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In my office we have a colleague called Victor. I have changed his name to maintain some privacy…but his name does start with the alphabet ‘V`. Most in the office call him ‘dry fish` because he has no life and no juice….but somehow I don`t agree to him being called by that name because I love ‘dry fish`.

If you are a Tamilian, you probably respond to the word ‘karuvadu kozhlambu`…the tasty dish that`s made from dry fish.

Warning: It is suggested that non-meat eating Bhramins, PETA-supporting vegetarians, and sea-food allergic quit reading this article NOW because there is going to be a lot of ‘dry fish` beyond this sentence.

As I was saying, I love ‘dry fish` preparations because of its salty-spicy taste. I also like its commitment – name me one Human being who would taste so well even after death? The two-three stand up comedians I have tasted…tasted funny.

A small amount of well-fried dry fish can help South Indians gobble up a plateful of curd rice (and it is only half the meal!). Personally, I prefer the deep fried preparation over the gravy because when it is the latter, I feel guilty. Who wouldn`t feel guilty seeing a once-alive fish float in spicy water?

Since I love it so much, when Rekha started from Madurai, I requested her to get me some ‘dry fish.`

The biggest problem with North India is that it is landlocked, and thus fish is really costly….leave alone ‘dry fish.`

When I went to buy fish last weekend, I noticed that the ICICI Bank was right next to it. I asked the security guy there, why they had set up a branch near a fish market…and he said: “Sir, the mountain has to come to Mohammed.”

Apparently, the bank had been getting lots of calls from the fish market asking for personal loans (probably to buy fish) and decided to open a branch nearby. The bank`s strategy was simple…before the fish was bought, the buyer was asked to fill in the loan details post which two witnesses put in their signatures (the shop owners were helpful, here).

The money was directly credited into the fish shop owner`s account. The fish buyer could then pay off the loan in Equal Monthly Installments (EMIs).

Anyway, since I asked her to get me some ‘dry fish,` Rekha bought it before she left Madurai. From Madurai she was to leave for Kannur (her place), spend a week and move back to Gurgaon.

If you haven`t been exposed to ‘dry fish` let me tell you that it smells a lot. That`s why when Rekha was in Kerala…her father hung the ‘dry fish` on a mango tree outside the house.

Three cats fractured their legs trying to escape my father-in-law`s bursts after nearing the smelly dry fish. These are the times I really like my father-in-law.

During her flight from Calicut to Chennai, the ‘dry fish` was packed and checked in as a baggage. Rekha says the ground staff did twitch her pretty nose as the ‘dry fish` was being handled by the support staff. A little skeptical that the prejudiced ground staff wouldn`t have booked the ‘dry fish,` Rekha asked a baggage handler if he had seen a small, red bag being loaded. The guy said: “Yes madam I just loaded it. Next time…why don`t you try Air Deccan?”

At the Chennai airport Rekha was picked up by her ex-colleague Sheela`s driver. Rekha was to spend the Saturday in their house, and then take the next day`s flight to Delhi.

As soon as Rekha sat in Sheela`s car, she realized Sheela was a Bhramin and wouldn`t like ‘dry fish` in her car. She immediately called me up and asked: “Rajan, I have fish with me but unfortunately I am in Sheela`s car.”

“So what? Doesn`t the fish have driver`s license?”

“Aree…Sheela is a Bhramin. She would be upset if she came to know that I had ‘dry fish` in her car,” Rekha was on the verge of crying.

“Just ask the driver to hold it outside the car. Simple.” I have a knack of coming up with simple and executable solutions.

“If the driver holds the ‘dry fish` out in his right hand…everybody will think he is turning to the right.” Rekha was being very upright.

“So…ask the driver to turn right!”

“Wouldn`t we be going in circles then?” Rekha sure knew where she was going.

After a long discussion, it was decided that Rekha would ask Sheela`s driver to take the ‘dry fish` to his house and bring it to Sheela`s house when he came to pick her up the next day. That way, the ‘dry fish` would never enter Sheela`s house.

The next day, Sheela`s driver didn`t turn up. Apparently, his wife was a vegetarian and when he landed at their house with a packet of ‘dry fish` she got scandalized. They had a quarrel of sorts and as part of the agreement it was decided that the husband will quit his job as Sheela`s driver.

However, the driver`s wife delivered the ‘dry fish` in time for Rekha to board the flight. After my wife told me that in the flight from Chennai to Delhi, she was allowed to sit inside the cockpit because rest of the passengers complained of a dead-fish like smell….I didn`t probe her any further.

Today, sitting in Gurgaon – a city that doesn`t even have lakes – I am having the best of dead, dry fish!

Other Funny Reads

# My adventures – Chennai to Gurgaon
# Different types of fathers in law
# Reporting straight from the Bangalore Airport
# The art of swearing unnoticed

Gentlemen are requested; servants are commanded, to keep off the grass.

– A sign in a London Park in 19th century.

Funny, I have to be ‘writing` about the freedom of speech. I am doing so because if I speak this out, people will identify and bump me off as another fundamentalist….some day I am late from office.

Two recent incidents have caught my attention and believe me it is not Kiruba going to Amsterdam or Arnab Ray (the GreatBong) getting 400+ comments for a single post. For those that don`t know them…I consider these two people as my greatest blog enemies. I need to have enemies, to be competitive. So much so, I want all Ouchmytoe readers to visit Kiruba`s & Arnab`s and thank them for such funny articles you get on Ouchmytoe.

Now, for the one real incident which concerns me – Taslima Nasreen`s second exile.

My advice to Taslima would be to start writing a travelogue as soon as possible. At the rate at which she is being moved from State to State, very soon she will be able to publish a book titled: “India Exposed – 28 States & Seven Union Territories.” My only hope is she doesn`t mention the word ‘Islam` in the book.

I am divided in my concern for Taslima Nasreen. In the early 90s, when I was young (and so was Taslima) I would have laid down my life for her. If you don`t believe me, take a look at her photograph from the 90s….isn`t she a sweetheart?

But today, being a married man (with two women in his life!) I asked myself: “Did my Taslima do the right thing?”

For long I didn`t get the right answer. After all, who was I to comment on what was wrong and what was right?

Here is a conversation I overheard between two of my colleagues at the Cafeteria. I didn`t join them in the conversation because that would have meant abandoning my chair positioned between Sunandini Basu & Tinky Toinkers – two of my pretty (but married!) colleagues –

Krishnamurthy: When somebody`s voice has the power to reach the public…one should be careful about what is being said.

Naeem: Does that mean celebrities can`t have freedom of speech?

Krishnamurthy: They can. But they can`t say everything that a common man can say.

Naeem: So, the celebrities can`t have freedom of speech?

Krishnamurthy: They have the freedom of speech. But as they said in Spiderman II, with powers of celebrity-dom come bigger responsibilities.

Naeem: Are you saying that Taslima shouldn`t have written about Islam the way she did?

Krishnamurthy: She definitely shouldn`t have. Taslima is the culprit.

Naeem: But I fought with my father when he blamed Taslima for writing ill about Islam.

Krishnamurthy: You did? Why?

Naeem: By writing ill about such a magnificent truth of life, Taslima showed that she didn`t know anything about Islam.

Krishnamurthy: I agree.

Naeem: Yeah…so why don`t we just laugh Taslima away and give her space to grow up and realize her folly?

Naeem`s suggestion hit me hard. That`s why, when my baby girl spit on me last evening, I didn`t spit back (which I usually do). Instead, I gave her some space to grow up…and start calling me: “Daddy!”

Shucks…this definitely isn`t Ouchmytoe style. Since when did we start having such serious articles in here? Hmm…let me guess, since the Chivas Regal Scotch Whiskey got over?

Looking for Funny Articles?

# Every photograph has a story to tell
# Where is the Submit (to sex) button?
# How Indian wives take their husbands for a ride
# What if there were no women in the World

For the last four days I have been coming from office at 12 midnight. Thank heavens my wife Rekha is in Kerala. I topped this performance last night (or today morning!) by leaving office at 3.30 a.m.. No surprise considering we launched an application called Chak De Girls, on ibibo.

In the last five days I have realized the sleep is an important part of man`s life. Perhaps that`s why I am home today and its just 10 p.m.. Those that work in the IT sector would understand…the others can start counting the sheep till they get some sleep.

Rekha is back from Kerala on December 2, and I hope by that time I (and my boss!) is done with the tight schedule. Coz, I don`t want my daughter to grow up and wonder: “Who is that dark skinned man, who visits mom every night?”

Till it started getting tough at ibibo.com, I had made it a habit of sleeping at 10 p.m. because my favorite dream started at 10.30 p.m. sharp. My favorite dream involved me eating a giant, white, creamy cake…and then burping. Well…to be honest with you, that was my favorite dream only till Rekha told me that we overshot the monthly budget because we had to buy 30 pillows last month!

While on the topic of sleeping, I have to tell you what my strict Armyman father did to wake me up early in the morning.

He thought that sleep was Satan`s doing and shouldn`t be indulged in. Perhaps, that`s why he would sit with us (me and my two sisters) and give us dictation till it was 10 p.m.. If only there was Fashion TV in the 80s, me and my sisters would have slept early.

While going to bed, all three would place a soap wrapper (Lyril, in our case) under our pillow because Ikroop Singh – my 5th standard classmate – had made an accidental discovery and wanted all of us to reap the benefits. Apparently, if you kept a soap wrapper (without the soap, of course) under your pillow while going to sleep…one tends to get up early. There is no proof, but it seemed to work. I would get up every day at 5.30 a.m. to see if the wrapper was there and it hadn`t moved from under the pillow.

My mother and my father had different approaches to my sleep habits. Coincidentally, both involved water.

My mother thought that if I drank loads of water in the night, I would get up at 5.30 a.m. to visit the loo and thus get into a habit of getting up early. The arrogant kid that I was, I didn`t go according to my mother`s plan. I pissed in the bed around 2.30-3.00 a.m. and spent sleepless two hours or so because of damp clothes, and then sleep heavy at 5.30 a.m.. When I continued to piss in bed even in the ninth standard (which was exposed to the whole World when we went on a Scouts expedition) my mother gave up her trials.

My father`s rules were simple if one doesn`t obey orders make his/her life miserable. After 5.35 a.m. he would stop giving orders, and instead dip his hand in water and sprinkle it on our face. Believe me, as a child early morning sleep is the best because you are dreaming of chocolates, toys, and cakes…and for it to be dampened by a spray of water is bad. This would be followed by a handful of water and if I still managed to stay in bed, a mug full of water would be on its way.

If you have been woken up like this by your parents, I am sure you still nurture that grudge. Perhaps, you might want to join the SPRAY (Society for Parent`s Real Abuse of You) or STEEP (Society Towards ‘Enema-ing` Erring Parents) to take revenge.

But if you are 45 plus and have a kid who might be joining either SPRAY or STEEP, you might want to ensure your safety by enrolling at SPRINKLE (Society of Parents in India with Naughty Kids, Lambs and Eels).

Now, for some sleep….zzzzz

We all know that every air plane in the air has a few people with cotton in their ear. They do this to avoid the air pressure getting to them. Read more about it here

Now, I have a related question…I have heard that in New York, there are buildings with more than 100 floors. Does this mean, that people working on the 100th floor place cotton in their ear before getting into the lift?

If the answer is yes, I have an awesome business model in mind. Why not tie up with all major builders in the US of A, and offer to set up stalls right next to the lifts and sell cotton buds?

The costs can be real low, if the manufacturing of cotton buds is done in India and the items exported. Every pair of cotton bud will cost us only 25 paise (and if we have to emboss ‘Made in US of A` on it, ten paise extra) and even if we sell it for a paltry sum of 10 cents a pair…we will make: 4 Rupees per pair.

Did I just hear you say exporting costs? Well, I don`t mind even if it is as high as Rs 2 per pair…because I still make Rs 2 per pair as pure profit.

Now, let is arrive at how many such cotton buds we can sell.

Like all good business planners, I worked out the monies in an excel sheet. Find the details below. Note: The money involved is big.

Now, that`s a wholesome profit for as small an activity as making cotton buds. Mind you, thats a SINGLE’s DAY’s PROFIT!

If you want to be my business partner, please send in your age and sex, and a studio-clicked, full sized photograph of yours…so that the person with the right talent can be selected. My mail ID: jv DOT rajan AT gmail DOT com

Other Such Reads

# When this blogger met God
# When I was no longer ‘cute` for the women
# Drinking with the wolves
# Do Platonic relationships exist?
# The initial months of pregnancy

It has come to my notice – albeit a little late – that the less we speak, the better we are perceived to be. My mom has always been saying it…but since she could never give me an example, I didn`t trust her. Today, I have an example.

I can.

The above sentence is powerful and is loaded with meaning. If I said that to my boss, he is bound to give me a double promotion and an Exceeds Expectations ranking.

I can deliver

The above sentence dilutes the power that I feel when I say “I can.” By adding ‘deliver` I am adding a filter and the listener tends to think that I can only ‘deliver`. Whatever ‘deliver` means.

I can deliver pizza

Now, the power has been further diluted by two filters – ‘deliver` and ‘pizza`. “I can deliver” was definitely more powerful than “I can deliver pizza.”

I can deliver pizza for money

Now I am telling the listener exactly what I want him/her to listen…this is dangerous because I am leaving nothing to his/her imagination. In short, I am not making full use of my listener`s powers of imagination.

Moral of the Story: Speak less, start a blog and write more.

Via: India Uncut

The Gods have been good to me so far. Today, I made a discovery which I think being a God fearing gentleman, I should share with the rest of the men folk. Tip of the year: While traveling, ask for a first row, aisle seat.

Of course, ladies with not so straight tendencies can also use this tip.

During my flight from Chennai to Delhi, I was allotted seat number ‘1D`. For those of you who don`t know where 1D falls…here, take a look at this graphic below –

*AH= Air Hostess

Now that you know where exactly I was sitting in Air Deccan`s Chennai to Delhi flight number 639, please continue reading.

Thanks to the flirt-friendly seating, I got a chance to observe two air hostesses from close proximity – as close as 3 feet. So much so, when one of the air hostesses was telling me about the emergency exists, and life jackets and all that lovey-dovey stuff…I could smell her perfume. I remember watching a movie in which Dharmendra buys all the tickets in a theatre and views Hema Malini`s performance sitting all alone….for a moment, I thought I had bought all the tickets in the airplane and she was reeling out the instructions for me.

As a mere mortal, you can`t even imagine how lucky I would have felt staring at two pretty girls from that close a distance for 150 minutes. Wondering why I say 150 minutes and not two and half hours…hmm…let me give you a hint – I am 165 cms tall!

Let me describe the two girls for you – Poornima and Kavita, who were in Air Deccan`s flight number 639 from Chennai to Delhi. If you know them, please let them know that my heart beats for them. If you don`t know them, but know some air hostesses…please forward this link to them…so that someday (and that`s before they get old), the link reaches them and they mail me at jv [.] rajan [@] gmail [.] com.

Now, my only concern is…what do I do if both of them propose to me at the same time? To tell you the truth, I love them both.

When the plane was taking off and the girls were belted to their seats and couldn`t move…I didn`t even look at them. I could I have just unbuckled my seat belt and kissed them both! But by not staring at them, I gave them a chance to stare at me.

When Kavita handed me the complimentary Kingfisher Mineral water, I even said “Thank You, Kavita.”

When Poornima handed me a bag of peanuts and said, “Sir, this can be yours for just Rs 10,” I gave her Rs 500 and said: “Why don`t you buy some bangles for those nice, delicate wrists of yours?”

She didn`t reply…but she didn`t return Rs 490 as well. Wonder what kind of bangles she would buy.

Thanks to my seating and the view blocker which allowed for a sneak preview…I could even see the air hostesses change clothes – what if they were just removing their jacket and wearing the apron? A change is a change…not to mention, welcome.

Now, let me reveal a secret…when the girls changed into their apron they left their jackets near the food storage area (just behind the opaque view blocker) and I managed to smuggle my visiting card into their jacket pockets.

Now, the question is…who will get ME first! People, wish the girls luck!

Note: I can`t read his name properly but it says Brinder Singh, First Officer, Air Deccan…and I think he is flirting with my girls. Why isn`t he flying the plane? Is it on auto pilot? I am so angry with him, that if ever I can…I will ask him to pilot an Auto…for that would also be called ‘Auto Pilot`!

Other Worthy Articles

Humor in everyday life – a sample
Buying a pram for my daughter
Mother in law vs daughter in law
Pre-marital sex: to be embraced or not?
Kissing – how it all began