Archive for April 2010
A well-dressed young college girl was sitting in the first class of a Central Railway local train when two lady ticket checkers (TC) got into the compartment along with a lady constable.
TC: Please show me your ticket, maam.
Girl: One minute, I have it here.
(Girl starts going through the contents of her purse).
TC: Will you hurry up?
(Two stations later the girl is still searching).
TC: Do you have a valid ticket or not?
Girl: (Screaming) What do you mean? Of course, I have it! And for your kind information, it is a quarterly pass costing a lot of money. I remember seeing it in my purse just this morning.
(She once again starts looking in her purse and a station later, is still at it).
TC: (Now irritated) Listen young lady, we were supposed to get off at the last station. Now we are reaching Kurla. You will have to get down with us and come to the station master’s office.
Girl: And you listen. I am traveling to the last stop and not getting off anywhere mid-way. I am sure I have my pass somewhere here but am unable to find it. I am ready to pay you a fine.
(TC charges her and gives a receipt).
Girl: (in a very soft voice) Will this be valid for my return journey back home?
TC: (angrily) Yes!
Girl: (in a loud voice, after the railway personnel have left) I don’t know why she was talking so rudely. I never wanted to show her my pass. She was the one who asked for it. These TCs always catch honest, law-abiding people like me.
One man to another in train:
Shashi Tharoor must be going around telling everyone (in Malayalam): ‘Ishq ne hamein nikama kar diya warna hum bhi aadmi the kaam ke.
This is the best description of Shashi Tharoor’s flair for words:
Shashi Tharoor’s dexterity with words borders on the sleight-of-the tongue; words slide out of his mouth gracefully and perform parlour tricks worthy of a gifted illusionist. He uses his words as he does his hair; his locks dance and glide sinuously at every camera lens, the charm of hair just that wee bit out of place. Like a too-skilled driver, his words often take him to the wrong places, so fond he is of his own driving. For someone to whom things always came easily, he has got it wrong astonishingly often. Tharoor represents the power of education that resolutely stays skindeep; if it went any deeper, the words would cease to flow so fluidly for they would be tempered with some selfdoubt. As it stands, there is no stemming the flow, and he continues to flounder in the labyrinth of his own vocabulary.
A gravy train called the IPL
Times of India, 19 April 2010
Have just received news that PB, 22, has reached the Caribbean port from where she has to board her cruise ship.
Aah… what a relief!
PB is my cousin, who, at a very early age, decided to stand on her own feet. At 17, she migrated to Bombay to complete her college studies. She then trained as an air-hostess. But unfortunately, by the time she graduated many of the airlines were downsizing and some like Kingfisher and Sahara were changing hands.
So she joined a classy boutique in south Bombay as a counter salesgirl.
Then three months ago, she made a career move that her mother considered dangerous and other family members, audacious. She took on a six month job with an American cruise liner. Her job profile: selling goods in one of the luxury shops on the ship.
As she winged her way to her new assignment, volcano Eyjafjallajoekull struck in Iceland. There was no news from her for three days.
This morning we finally heard from PB. Hers was one of the last flights to leave from Paris to New York before all airline schedules in Europe went for a spin.
No, I have a different take on this: Fortune favours the brave!
The eruption of the Eyjafjallajoekull volcano in Iceland today and its subsequent result – cancellation of 17,000 flights as volcanic ash drifted towards large parts of Europe – once again bears a message for the westernised, environmentally degrading, globally destructive world.
It seems like Nature is saying: “Don’t mess around with me. I can bring you on your knees any time I want.”
Met an old colleague yesterday – after 23 long, long years. Blistering barnacles!
Godfrey Pereira, former editor of Society and Island magazines, remains the same – humorous, irreverent, a warehouse of profanity… So much like Captain Haddock in Tintin. And like the comic character, one helluva drinker.
But unlike Haddock, a very senti guy, once the drinks had settled in.
“Oh Raju, it was so sweet of you to take time off to come meet me,” he said over and over again during our five-hour long get-together.
And to the other dozen odd ex-colleagues from Lana/Magna who had taken him out drinking to Dadar. “I am now in a foreign country (USA). It’s wonderful meeting all you guys again. Who knows anything about life? Who knows when – and if – we’ll be able to meet again?”
Wife: I was seeing a Ameesha Patel film* on TV – you should not miss it the next time around.
Daughter: Really? What was so special about it?
Wife: Ameesha played a mute in the movie.
Husband: Really? I am going to write to the producer to make three more sequels to it.
* Teesri Aankh (2006), co-starring Sunny Deol