If you have questions regarding your worth, if you start doubting your abilities, think of the people that love you. Think of the unreasonable love that has you. Love from your mom, when she says, “My son is the best”. Think of your best friends, who would, while emailing, always mark you the mail first. You are of primary importance to your loved ones.
You just feel good! And you’re fueled up to do good!
Apoorv for India TV
Doesn’t matter how happy you are, how peaceful your surroundings come as, there is something that ruins your day. I am bantering about the news channels, the crazy Indian media.
There was a time when for good news’ sake, we were strictly shown the happenings in political reigns. And ever since we saw the Great Indian Media battle, came along the news channels, popping up like pop-corns. And to make it worse – with their linguistic variants! From cameras being shoved in private parts to rooms, and from filming a terrorist gunning to being gunned down self and, they are doing it. No one is stopping them, for the fact that Indian audience digs it! Like for example, some family is shown mourning their son’s martyrdom at the border and we somehow tend to see it. Are we susceptible to really see it? Or is there a psychological eclipse that completely makes us insensitive? We see it. Next day we don’t even remember it.
It’s generally that, when I come from a tiring day at work, my dad is engrossed in all kinds of news channels. Bombs are detonating, murders taking place, gang-rapes happening and life fucking moves on! At the end of the day, I am left with terror, because I’ve anonymously inherited this lame tendency to relate things, you know, to self. But it for sure spoils my entire day.
One thing that ‘totally’ entertains me is the religious miracles stirring everyone’s faith – even deeper. The recent one being: Sai Baba doing à la Virgin Mary, crying and all. Interesting. But hold; we should not forget our semi-bald ‘Aap ki Adalat’ protagonist Rajat Kapoor’s ‘India TV’ venture, truly an experience in the name of sensationalism. Not too late, we will see soft-core lesbian porn flashing on our TV screens. After all, you never know what these so called news channels throw to you as hype. Two hoots to ACP Arjun (really, how Bollywood’ish can the name go?), I never saw a single episode of what you do and probably never will. I am just apprehending, because your virtual mannerisms ACP Arjun, reminds me of my colony’s stone-pelted bitch.
As you witness everyday, shit-loads of accidents happen in India and the CG (computer graphics) translation on these news channels is a sheer joke played on them. A face appears and briefs us the biased news – on how the trains collided and within moments a cartoon’y illustration is constantly darted on our screens. When they expect to actually get my awes, all I land up is watching porn. Though, some viewers seriously ogle at that illustration thinking how science and technology has advanced in India. Some dude holding a degree in animation doing all the sidey CG renditions seems the reality to me.
Astrology is another recipe to shoot your TRPs to stratosphere. The reason being the same: crazy media for us crazy Indians. We would just see anything pertaining to astrology. You have all kinds of astrologers, from flashing their ‘advanced astrology’ through their laptops to babas that confuse me for flesh-munchin’ Aghoris. I ain’t listening to what you say; especially when your bid to make my day better goes something like feeding green grass to five cows and milking them to offer to some deity I never heard of.
The much popular stint of ‘Breaking News’ seems a never-ending trend to me. From some dude fracturing his leg to Rakhi Sawant’s deliberate nip-slip, the great Indian media slots everything to ‘Breaking News’. I do watch all breaking news, provided it is delivered by a female newsreader that has crystal clear boobs and big voice. Just kidding. Female newsreaders with small boobs ain’t allowed in the news room anyway. Yes-yes, the CEO dude of Aaj Tak happens to be my uncle’s nappy-friend.
Some other things that amuse me about the Indian news channels are the bitch-fight to claim they actually broke the story with in-your-face evidences, infixed footages of lame laughter shows between news sessions, so just when I am thinking about Ahemdabad blast victims, Raju Srivastav unhesitatingly comes to tickle my funny bones. That’s black humor for you after all. Silly news feature titles – “Chor machai shor” (Thief creates ruckus), “Don ka gong” (Don’s gong) or ‘Mandir ka bhoot” (Ghost of the temple) –are all my impromptu creative children and I easily fare better than what they do in this regards. Latest was when news channels went crazy on 08-08-08 deluge (was it one?) saying the world might come to an end. Moronic biased announcers did not know that it is four more years for the world to get doomed, also announced in one of their previous broadcasts.
So, where is the truth?
Truth is, everything is here to stay and News Channels will go that extra mile to basket that extra TRP rating. It is us, the Indian audience, who at the threshold of receiving fresh and sensible news is served – the chaos of jeopardized Indian news media.
“you are one scumfuck who I want to die instantly. I don’t care if you get dismembered or suffer a cardiac arrest. I don’t give a toss if your wife has devised rat poison in your lunch box. I just want you to die. Get off my feet and keep that elbow away from my face.”
Just today, when I boarded a local, the pot-bellied bastards weren’t letting me in. So I stood on the foot-rest till two stations and got a chance to slide myself in between two bellies. There… I was somewhat comfortable. Now it was my turn, fine. Around eight mid-aged monsters boarded the train. Half of them risked their wasteful life between the train and the platform while I got myself busy trailing them out.
Mumbai locals make you inhuman. They suck away your moralities. Travel in the wee-hours and satan may fear you, because you start behaving like a rabies infested pitbull.
It’s not as easy to bear as it is to think, when a 120 Kg retard stands on your costly PUMA and you can’t help but watch his disgraceful face, helplessly. And just when you are about to say something, an elbow wades your face through. These are the times when I desperately think to become a Jehadi. Boom! Happiness!
I spend ten minutes of my regretful life in these trains and experience various chemical occurrences happening on my body. It’s my sweat, Mr. Sharma’s sweat, that old man’s sweat, and some unfamiliar mixture of liquids sliding down my body. They begin from my forehead, glaciate down to my neck, while those liquids mix like ‘Ganga-Jamuna Sangam’ and smoothly flow-down till my belly. And why do I wish for fresh air? I don’t know what I am breathing. The air passed from someone’s mouth or – a fucking butt?
It seems the MNCs in Mumbai are providing free first-class travel to their employees. That means more MNCs stuff more losers in the first-class compartment. And everyone seems to have chip on their shoulders. An accidental touch and they can show you the most venomous of feminine expressions. At least I react that way! Because it’s almost a gay fest when 100 men from all despicable backgrounds cling together. And I’ve seen that men strike when the iron is hot. Be it intentional or unintentional. You do turn into homophiles for each other. Why would a man grab my crotch and why would someone try to sniff my armpits? These are the questions even satan will shiver to answer to.
So…
Just die everyone who intentionally and unintentionally inflicted tortures and pains upon me causing me lose ounces of blood!
Nimbostratus
Since I read about the untimely demise of Eric Tadla, haven’t been feeling very good. Moreover, the weather today seems to be dark and gloomy. Always loved rains but the thick layers of nimbostratus make me feel I am lacking something in life (lame, I know). Have to pen down some promotional strategies for the new In & Out convenience store opening at BPCL colony in Chembur. Nothing seems to work out at the moment. Have a hectic 1-hour journey to complete which, at this point of my life, seems inseparable. The day for me has come to an end. I think I will now wind up and move. Let’s see how my mood takes off once I leave office.
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Back home. Just got a call from my senior about the official uncertainties. People are quitting in my events department which is struggling to get new business. I am equally uncertain about my existence here, in this company. The day has come to an end. What was thought to be done today, yesterday is now pended for tomorrow, future. Time flies by. Days go by…
Ahh… just started raining and with the crashing sound of those innumerable drops, Anticipation by Lemon & Einar K sounds excellent. I am fine now, for the moment.
