God was Murdered

I'm not unemployed. I'm unemployable. 10th-Feb: Woke up at 1pm, Ate 4 half-fried eggs, watched Big Bang Theory. Slept at 1am 11th-Feb: Woke up at 1pm, Ate 4 half-fried eggs, watched Dexter. Slept at 1am 12th-Feb: Woke up at 1pm, Ate 4 half-fried eggs, watched How.IMY.Mother. Slept at 1am 13th-Feb: Woke up at 1pm, Ate 4 half-fried eggs, watched Modern Family. Slept at 1am 14th-Feb: Woke up at 1pm.....................................................................Frockin Hell...I hate 14th-Feb Only day & year changes, my story remain the same. Here it was. The dreaded Valentine's Day 2013. I was date-less. Nothing new for me. Girls don't hate me. They don't see me. For them I do not exist. I'm the greatest girl repellent. If Baygon ™ ever made girl repellant. They will use my blood specimen to manufacture this magnificent concoction. This magic-spray will destroy Taser & pepper spray manufacturers. Simple Instructio...

Here I’m, the greatest pain-in-the-ass perfectionist bastard. But this time I messed up big-time. There is enough evidence that most of the goof-ups weren’t in my control (e.g., kabootar peeing & pooping all over me, twice). I’m gonna stand up & accept me being human (not the Mr Salman Khan 'B eing Human' ). Yes, I screwed up.   After the unanticipated (yet totally clichéd) hassles of IDs, ticket screw ups, train delays & bitch-fighting I arrived in Jaipur. I found myself swimming in the potpourri of glittering (g)old grannies, silicon-encrusted Shobha des & obnoxiously stupid teenagers. The common thread that ties them is money. You got it: It ain’t theirs, they spend it. That’s all that counts. If I weren’t so old (31), grumpy & a classic asshole I would’ve tried to hit on these smoking-hot pies. But I’m as I’m. The paradox is that I’m attracted to them physically but totally nauseated otherwise. I pretend to ignore them – it works. Anyway nobo...

 "I love.............." Anisha started saying, holding my hands real tight. ".........someone else" she finished. She finished me. A limousine stopped near my toes. "I gotta go" she said, let go of me & hopped into the shimmering black car. Limousine sped away making a crushing sound. Must have been my heart . It was 11.23pm, 31st December 2002. It was Flinders street station, Melbourne. It was my frickin 21st birthday. The love of my life had walked away, without reason, showing me the middle finger. It was the worst goddamn day of my life. I wanted to vanish, disappear. I shut my eyes for like eternity ( 3 1/2   minutes). When I opened them I saw the - Young & Jackson - bar across the road. I jumped the red light & stormed into the bar. It was filled wall-to-wall. A local band was playing live rock music. At the side-bar, a delicate, pretty, gray eyed brunette sat caressing her ...

   Here we meet again. If you have forgotten me, let me rekindle your hopeless memory. I'm the radio jockey girl {Aashima Talwar} who drinks, smokes, parties till 3am, wears short dresses, dances with boys, have had 5 odd boyfriends & no, I'm not a virgin. And I'm smokin HOT.   I'm the perfect girlfriend material - and the worst marriage material. That's what the boys say.   It is 9.47pm by the wall-clock. I've just woken up after sleeping for 19 hours {21 hours is my personal record}. I'm sitting on the floor drinking black coffee. Coffee sucks. But my roommate Farheen {she's virgin...ha ha} says i gotta drink this. Shitty black coffee (no sugar) works miracles on a head spinning with Hangover.   So how did I achieve the 21st hangover of my life? Here's how:   Y'day I was sitting at home bored to death watching the re-runs of 'How I Met Your Mother'. So, I called my best fr...

“Death reveals much more about us than life ever can. Of all things – Death fascinates us mortals like nothing else – their departure made me think of death – To me death is magical rather than morbid – its inspirational – inevitable & in death we’re gone – what remains is what we did when our hearts still pumped – life is truly a gift, like a brand new car – for me death is the fuel to its engine – coz I know one day fuel will run out & I’ll be ashes or buried beneath – it inspires me to not be afraid – to listen to my voice – to trash all tried & tested wisdom – smash the paradigm – and become what I set out to be & not live within a bubble. Money doesn’t fascinate me – bringing about a change does – girls in short skirts & perfect rack don’t get me hard – girls who want to risk & be ready to fall flat on face & get up & walk the same road all over again – do – My family doesn’t inspire me – Inequality pushes me to b...

Last 2 months of my life have been awful (to put it mildly). How so? Here's how: 1. My mom kicked me outta her house. Here's her kind parting words: "Don't you ever come back, loser" 2. NDTV 'clicked' me peeing on the convent girls school's side-wall & now I'm the poster boy of the program: 'Uncivilized Youth' and have come to be popularly known as: "The Bastard who pees on walls" 3. I'm jobless (since KJo doesn't need me to cover for him on 'Koffee with Karan' anymore, sucks) & I'm living with my schizophrenic grandmother (no one else wants me & hotels creep me out) 4. Even my not-so-hot-totally-religious-no-sex girlfriend broke up with me coz she made a deal with 'her' god to never see me again (A classic 'Jab Tak Hai Jaan' after-shock) 5. And the worst: I've been sued for sexual harrassment - no, not by some dumbass girl. I've been sued for sexual harrassment by...

Fuck – This is the one word that we’re always told not to use – It is uncivil – It is rude - so we’ve been brainwashed. Yet it continues to fall off our tongue persistently – perfunctorily – pathologically. Our – oddly includes those too who lecture against it – condemn it in broad daylight with their lungis tied up, tiger moustaches twisted like Billy Bowden’s crooked finger, in their bombastic empty rhetoric. Does that make us all hypocrites? – Never by admission – that would defeat the purpose – wouldn’t it? We’re happy to say the 4-letter word when – we’re sad – bored – have committed the most heinous crime – found the coveted treasure – got nothing else to say – The god damn word is ubiquitous in our lives. Strangely - It doesn’t get any credit for its momentous contribution to the human race & fuelling the economy . No! That was no typo – The word contributes to Economy & creates Employment. Brands like FCUK   – apparently the acronym breaks into - ...

Tomorrow I’m getting married to this girl, Anjali, who is loved by everyone in my family – but me. Actually I can’t say that because I don’t even know her - I’ve only met her once with fifteen other people from our families. She’s kind of fat & I’m wafer thin. But my father thinks I’ll grow into her. I love him. By the way before I forget – I’m Rowan Shaw – my name is utterly misleading. I’m no descendant of Sir George Bernard Shaw; neither do I have any relations with Mr. Rowan Atkinson a/k/a Mr. Bean. I’m not even Caucasian or Christian - I’m desi – I’m Gujarati. Every frickin bone. My real name was Rohan Shah but as my family moved to Los Angeles when I was eleven – my father decided to ‘upgrade’ us. He upgraded his name from Jayesh Shah to Joyous Shaw & my mother’s name changed from Archana Shah to Archie Shaw & so on. I completed High School with distinction. I wasn’t the brightest bulb in the class but I shone through hard work. My father wo...