Author: Jamshed V Rajan

Jammy, as Jamshed V Rajan is affectionately called, is a wannabe stand up comedian. He has a funny take on most things but documents only some of them. If you are interested in chatting up with him, do drop him an email at jv.rajan@gmail.com or message him at +919650080255.

Indian Liars Hall of Fame

It seems there is a National Liars Hall of Fame in Dannenbrog, Nebraska, US of A. No, I am not lying. It is true.

Maybe, we could set up something like this in India – the Indian Liars Hall of Fame. It would be an able platform for all those out there that have never been recognized for their ability to keep a straight face, while delivering a fast one.

Since I conceptualized the whole idea (I did not read about this in The Hindu dated 5th July 2004), I get to be Exhibit No 1. I will be in the space suit that I was wearing when I participated in NASA`s `Find a successor to Rakesh Sharma` program.

I could fill the whole museum with my own exhibits, but I guess I would not be doing justice to my counterparts – in fact the whole World. World is divided into those who have to tried to lie, those who have lied and those who have lied and have been tried. In short, you and I have company.

Here are some of the exhibits that the museum will display –


1) The vest that I was wearing when I escaped Jallianwalah Bagh massacre. It is full of holes from the bullets.
2) The guitar John Lennon forgot in my house when he got pissed drunk in my house and had to take a Taxi. My father was hosting him over a drink.
3) The stuffed crow that some 15 years back shat on Michael Gorbachev`s pate. Ever since the Perestroika man, who has been too sensitive to urea, has had a scar on his pate.
4) The handkerchief that Kapil Dev used to wipe his tears after crying during a Television interview. This will be a masterpiece.
5) The 10-gram diamond ring that I presented Rekha yesterday (it was her B`day). She has agreed to its display on select days.

Parties interested in displaying their wares at the museum can get in touch with me at the toll free number: 91-98843-91221

Happy Birthday Rekha!

 

When I got online….

I was introduced to the internet five years back. I started out with e-mails and slowly graduated to yahoo chat. The net was just right for me. I could lie. I could pretend. I could hide. I could lie again. Given below is the transcript of my attempts to find a friend online…that day five years ago.

Vital Info: My yahoo id is pppumpkincarver

6.30 p.m.
pppumpkincarver: Hi
pleazemeetme: ASL pls
pppumpkincarver: What…?
pleazemeetme: Are you a guy or a girl?
pppumpkincarver: Guy. Why?
pleazemeetme: F*&^ off you punk.

Later I would come to know that pleazemeetme was a guy looking for a girl.

6.45 p.m.

pppumpkincarver: Hi
meetmeinheaven: asl?
pppumpkincarver: You mean sex?
meetmeinheaven: Yes. How did you know what I was thinking?
pppumpkincarver: Just like that. I am a guy.
meetmeinheaven: Then why do you want to have sex with me?
pppumpkincarver: When did I say that?
meetmeinheaven: Buzz off you fruit cake (incase you did not know, it means a homo)

This guy was desperate.

7.00 p.m.

meetmeinheaven: asl?
pinky190479: 20/F/Lackhnow
meetmeinheaven: whats that?
pinky190479: My asl dumbo.
meetmeinheaven: Does asl mean age, sex and location?
pinky190479: Yes. Guess you are too dumb. Bye.
meetmeinheaven: No…no.. I am new to chat.
pinky190479: That`s fine. Bye.

By now, I had smartened up and realized that on the net the guys are looking for girls. And girls too are looking for girls.

7.15 p.m

radhika_krishnamurthy (BTW, this is me): Hi
jaya_bisht79: Hi
radhika_krishnamurthy: asl?
jaya_bisht79: 22/F/Nanital (UP)
radhika_krishnamurthy: Cool.
jaya_bisht79: Your asl?
radhika_krishnamurthy: 23/F/Chennai
jaya_bisht79: Thats neat.
radhika_krishnamurthy: So what do you do?
jaya_bisht79: I am a web-designer.
radhika_krishnamurthy: I cannot believe my luck. My brother is a programmer and he wants to shift to web-designing. He had some doubts.
jaya_bisht79: What kind?
radhika_krishnamurthy: If it is worth the shift, salary expected …you know that kind. If it is ok with you, shall I give him your id?
jaya_bisht79: Hm….fine. Should not be a problem. Is he online?
radhika_krishnamurthy: No he is not online now. I just called him up and gave him your id. BTW, his yahoo id is pppumpkincarver.
jaya_bisht79: No hassles.
radhika_krishnamurthy: That is really nice of you. He will get in touch with you shortly. I will log off now… need to catch the 8 p.m. bus.

Fifteen minutes after I logged off, I logged in again, this time as pppumpkincarver. We struck the right chord. She is still my chat friend and keeps enquiring about my sister Radhika Krishnamurthy. The only grudge is, in my hurry I did not select a good surname for the family.

Crime Management

Crime is ramphant in this World, more so in India which makes its presence felt at the top of the list of the most corrupted countries. That is not to take away the credit of Mexico, which is the most corrupt country in the World.

Tale of a dead towel

Ever lived in a hostel? If not, you would better stop reading coz you are not going to understand one bit.

Today morning when I walked into my balcony, I saw my towel fall from the line where I had left it to dry. It was dry all right. But it was kind of stiff too. My towel fell and broke as if it were a porcelain saucer.

I know it is hard to believe, but then you are not I. Neither do you have a towel like mine.

I have been a proud owner of this towel for the last three years. Turkey towel, the shopkeeper said when I was paying him Rs 110. Pity, he did not ask to me to change my towel every thanks-giving day. I could have done without the demise of my very Turkey-named British towel.

Was it a rotten towel? No sir. I know a rotten towel from the other..I have seen Vamsee`s. By the way, I share my apartment with this supposedly creative dude called Vamsee, whom we affectionately call Nellore Ka King.

Now back to towel talk. Of late my room had started stinking. I could not lay the blame anywhere. I had too many choices. Due to lack of water, I had ceased to take bath. Was my deodorant failing me? Or was the stink due to that rotten banana in the corner of my room that I had left unattended for a week. Or was it the un-flushed toilet?

Eventually, it turned out to be my towel. Protests from Vamsee could not be resisted and I had to pick up the remains of my towel and give it the due burial. I had everything ready for a state funeral, but my towel refused to burn. Some unfulfilled wish, I presume.

Probably it wanted to wipe my ass, one last time.

Oxymoronic life that we live in…

Ever been in a fine mess?
Ever been absolutely unsure of the happenings around you?
Ever been left alone in a crowd?
Ever had a stroke of bad luck?
Ever been given a blue rose?
Ever been part of a civilized warfare?
Ever been fooled by somebody’s daily special?
Ever hazarded an educated guess?
Ever been told an important trivia?

On why I hate photo albums…

Ablums…no.. albums. Yeah, albums. I hate albums. Especially if they do not belong to me.

I hate them so much, that I have even stopped visiting my friends and relatives. Here is what happened when I last visited a friend`s place.


It all started because Prakash, my friend wanted to take a bath before we went for a concert. After he slammed the bathroom door shut, I turned towards the India Today lying around and buried myself deep into it. I still cannot fathom what made Prakash`s mother to think that I was bored. She walked up to me, with something that seemed like a pillow from afar, and a treatise on Darwin`s Theory of Evolution from near.

“You have not seen Sonal`s marriage photographs have you?”

Sonal was Prakah`s sister. I hated her. One she was not pretty, and two she hated me coz she thought I was the reason behind her brother`s smoking.

Even before I could lie that I had seen it before, and liked it, she was beside me on the couch. She was excited and understandably so. Sonal was her only daughter and her marriage was probably her biggest single achievement in life. But why the &^%$ did she think I would be interested, I would never know.

“Nice couple, heyn?” She asked.

“Yeah. In fact, I am looking for some girl like Sonal,” I said. I got a cold stare, but the torture went one.

Pointing to a picture of a man and woman who looked like they were straight out of X-Files, she said: “That is her in-laws. Nice people. They even bought me a saree.”

“Wow. Great.”

“Ho..you should see the color of the saree. It is amazing. You don`t get these colors south of Baroda. Will show you the saree next time, I washed it in the morning and it might be wet.”

I let out a sigh. It was a close shave.

“Or would you want to come to the terrace?”

“No aunty, that is fine. Prakash has anyways come out,” I blurted out in sheer desperation. He was my ticket to freedom, and I was going to use him as a human shield wherever necessary.

By now, Prakash had come out. Sort of gift-wrapped in wet towel. He saw me looking thro` the album, and shouted at the top of his voice: “Mama, show him the one where I am wearing the blue suit. Ohh…Jams that`s a killer man.”

I did not make it to the concert. Besides being late, I did not want to go to a concert in blood-stained clothes. If only I had controlled myself….

Am I a lesbian?

Yesterday I read review of the Hindi movie Girlfriend. It is about two girls, who like each other and eventually develop sexual attraction towards each other. A prominent word used in the review was `lesbian`.

Being the innocent man, that everybody knows me to be, I went out looking for what the word meant. I asked a lady who was sharing the table with me at a restaurant.

Me: Madam, who is a lesbian?
She: If I like to have sex with a woman, I would be a lesbian.
Me: Wow. Does that mean I am a lesbian?
She: Not exactly.
Me: But I love to have sex with women!
She: But you are a guy and you cannot be a lesbian.
Me: Why not? I want to be a lesbian.
She: Even if you want to, you cannot.
Me: But I do not like having sex with men.
She: Yeah, if you liked it, you would be gay.
Me: You mean I am not gay?
She: No. You are not.
Me: You mean I am neither a lesbian nor a gay.
She: Yes
Me: Then, who am I?
She: Hmmm…you are straight.

(I straightened up a bit)

Me: Blame it on my not so flexible spinal chord.
She: No stupid. If you were a man who loves to have sex with woman, you would be straight.
Me: That`s a very simple word. Isn`t there a hep term? Something like `gay` or `lesbian`.
She: No.

(I realized she was losing interest, so I swerved to the flirting zone..a place where I hold sway)

Me: By the way, are you alone.
She: No
Me: I am off to the beach for a walk, would you want to join me?
She: No.
Me: Are you trying to avoid me?
She: Yes.

All of a sudden everything fell in place. She was a lesbian and like me was not turned on by the other sex. “Hard luck baby,” I told myself, and walked away into the sunset.