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.

Farting…the fading art

I would never know how many guys will hate me for this. Neither would I know, how many girls will pretend to hate me for doing a piece on the art of farting.

It is only today that the Gauris and Prithvis sent up by India and Pakistan are making all the noise. But it has not always been like this.

There was a time, when a well-timed fart would have been loud enough to attract attention. Believe me. Or ask any of my uncles.

In the days of the yore, the dal-roti diet ensured that there was enough of celebration going on. Diwali or no Diwali, there were enough fire-crackers.

There were the loud ones. Then there were the silent ones. And the adage “barking dogs seldom bite” holds true for farts too. In my 20 year association with the art of farting, I have never heard one that smelt bad. It was always the unseen, unheard that did the maximum damage to the nostril hair.

For me, it all stared one day when all of a sudden, without any prior intimation, one loud one escaped my system. As my luck would have it, it happened when everybody was silent and the teacher was about to take attendance. It brought me instant popularity. Now, the teachers knew me by name.

I took immense pride in the commotion it created. I would let go one, and look out for the reaction. I would suggest you try it out sometime. I can assure you that the feeling of relief when combined with the happiness of seeing the expression on other’s faces change is a potent mix.

Perhaps, I will never understand why people shy away from farts. Each one of us is guilty (is guilty the word?) of letting go, once in a while. Man. Woman. Boy. Girl. Everybody. Why then, do they shy away?

I have never heard of anybody being sent to the guillotine because he/she farted. Well, yeah, many sent to the guillotine have known to be good farters.

In fact, the Indian Judiciary is witness to instances when the man in the witness box has accepted to a murder but has refused to own up to a fart.

There are all kinds of farts. The sneeky. The smelly. The dubious. The burst. The Installment. The push through. The bulbous. The short and sweet. The blink-and-miss. You name it and the practitioners of the art, have it.

But now, the art is fading. Something like the Murals ….everybody loves it but nobody can afford it.

If you want to join the Fatso Fart Federation, just mail me at jv.rajan@gmail.com and we could meet up for some fire-crackers.

Smelling like an onion

Somehow I do not have a liking for foreign products. They are made to suit the conditions out there.

The latest product that has disappointed me (and as a result will see a significant drop in sales) is this so-so foreign deodorant that I bought. Entices the girls all right, but by noon I start smelling like an onion. You might argue that an onion is an aphrodisiac. Yes, I agree. But what is the point in me alone reaching a high?

The deo is custom-made for Italy, the country where it was made. And Italy is a cold place, just like its coldest export to India so far – Ms Sonia Gandhi. There you would sweat less; that is unless you are a Roberto Baggio.

I was misled by the fact that the deo was popular in Italy. On the contrary, Indian made Axe-effect, has been amazing. The fragrance lingers on till evening.

Till this can of deo gets used up, I have been reduced to humming the Bryan Adams song “Please forgive me.” I wonder why Adams had to sing this song. After all, he is from Canada and people don`t sweat much!

Now they are my favourite four lines too..

While it is a known fact to my friends that I would have preferred a short life in the Indian army than a long life out of it, not many know my favourite four lines. Well, these lines became my favs…only after Nameet told me. Nameet is a good friend of mine from Bangalore.

And the lines are  –

If I die in a combat zone,
Box me up and ship me home.

Pin my medals upon my chest.
Tell my momma I’ve done my best.

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Ten things I want to do

This is a borrowed idea. Mr Mohan, a colleague and a friend mentioned that I should write about the ten things I want to do before I breathe my last. And here we go –

1) I want to pair-a-jump with my girl, and when there are a few kilometers to go, I want to close my eyes and kiss her. A free-wheelie. She is sitting beside me even as I write this.

2) I want to walk into an old age home, sort out the saddest of the inmate and fulfill one of his wishes. I know it sounds like a Miss Universe contestant talking.

3) I want to walk into a jewel-shop with my mother beside me, and buy her the costliest pendent-diamond combo available. But would that suffice?

4) I want to take my father back to all those army units where he served (from Nathula pass to Station Workshop, Colaba, Mumbai) and show him that time has stood still since he left. You are the dude papa!

5) I want to spend a week in Kendriya Vidhyalaya, Madurai with the Super Seven Group – my school gang involving Rajah, Arun, Meenakshi, Selva, Muthu (2) and Chinta. Do we still know who sent the bomb hoax letter to the Princi?

6) I want to meet the first love of my life (if I can call her that) and see how many kids she is a mother of. Would be a funny sight.

7) I want to meet one Nevil Stephen, a MA English student at the American College, Madurai, in 1997. He is single-handedly responsible for me being a journalist today. Donno to thank you or not.

8) I want to meet the Brigadier who at Staff Selection Board, Infantry Road, Bangalore, after trying a host of tests on me, said, I would not make a good Army officer. Just to tell him what a good officer he let go 😉

9) I want to be the one to accompany my son/daughter on his/her first day at school. I still remember my father doing that for me.

10) I want to take Rekha`s parents on an all-India tour and prove that their daughter landed a good catch. She is still sitting beside me.

I have a new mail account!

My hats off to Google`s G-mail. Incase you are interested, you could mail me at jv.rajan@gmail.com

I am somehow appreciative of the way Google works. Their philosophy seems to have two prominent phrases

1) Keep it simple
2) Surprise the suckers

While the `keep it simple` bit is for users like you and me. The ‘surprise the suckers` bit is for its competitors like yahoo and hotmail. I would not be sure if Google considers Indian mail services as its competitors.

As a knee-jerk reaction Yahoo has increased its mailbox space to 100Mb. Hotmail is keeping is cards close to its chest. As for all those mailboxes with 4-5-6 Mb of space, only God can come to their rescue.

But what will I do with so much space?

– I will not have to delete any of the mails
– I can save huge files in my inbox, and download them later
– Me and my friends could use this as a file transfer system (I upload the file, and my friend downloads it)

There are some amazing features on g-mail. And if you want an invite, mail me…and and as and when I get offers from Google, will consider you. 😉

Diamonds mean a lot to women

Diamonds are real…problems. At least for the men. For the women it is a boon. I mean, what else can it be, when it helps you further your standing among the other women, yet you do not have to pay for it.

I know how it feels because I have once bought a diamond for my girl. Despite the fact that it was a dream, the feeling was nightmarish. Now, I cannot even dream of giving my girl a diamond.

For one, it gives her a false feeling that I care for her. And as if that was not enough she miscalculates the depth of my wallet and keeps mining for other things reserved for the elite of the society.

As of now we are not married, so I guess I have some elbow room to maneuver, but once we get married, I think I might be in trouble. But I might be forced to buy a diamond on the day we get married, or if finances permit, maybe on our first anniversary. Just wanted you to know that she is watching me as we type this.

When I decide to buy the piece of crap that my girl wants to hang around her neck, I will have to go alone. Never has woman walked into a De Beers showroom with a man, and come out happy. She might pretend to be happy, but deep down inside she is upset because she wanted the bigger diamond – the one, her man could not afford.

I had once been to De Beers, to buy a diamond for my ex-boss’ mistress. Here are two things I did not understand:

1) How can De Beers afford to sell a diamond listed 25K for just 15K, and yet make profits? Well, that`s the amount of discount they offered me.
2) When you end up bargaining, they say “fixed price”. But once you show you are determined, they say, “Sir, we do not make much profit on such small diamonds.”

Yeah right! Then how come you wear Armani suit, a Tissot watch and drive a Mercedes?

The White House Intern

I know, it could seem a little out-dated, but what to do. This occured to me while I was taking bath. Now, do not ask me what I was doing!

Get the message?

According to a survey, 70 per cent of all mails sent over the net are spam. And within the next few years, the figure is expected to reach 90 per cent. All this will happen from London, where laws for spammers are not so severe.


Ever thought how it would be to receive spam in your mobile? Well, to start with, it would be nice. You could get to know the local events – garage sales, exhibitions, food festivals etc. Slowly, you will also be getting messages from fitness centers, educational institutions and Churches – in short messages you are not keen on.

Philip Kotler`s next edition of Marketing Management will have a new chapter Mobile Marketing. And you will come across business units that are into sending messages to mobiles all over the world – in short, Mobile Marketing.

“So, what do you do for a living,” you would ask your cousin.
“I send mobile messages to the people. Will have to send 3,000 messages tonight – we are a 24×7 operation you see.”

Soon 90 per cent of the messages we get will be spam. And since we will learn to delete the messages without reading, the powers-that-be will come up with a genuine idea – their first spam to your mobile will have something called a Mobile bug.

Once in your mobile, every message you get from that marketer will be made to look as if it came from one of the guys/gals listed in your phone book. Now, you will never be able to delete the messages without opening them. Your mobile will say – Message from Mother. And when you open it, the message will read “Get the best of colored, scented condoms at Tri-Color Condoms, Adayar, Chennai. Door delivery for order of more than 100 condoms.” Dont ask me how you going to use them!

With so many messages to read you will spend atleast four hours of your waking time reading messages. Soon it will eat into your working hours, and your employer who anyways was not very keen in having you, will show you the door. With no money to even eat, you will eventually sell your mobile. And lead a peaceful life.