Vinphy’s AnyTimeMoney? Laws:

1. An ATM is a thinking machine. It has an ego so Be Kind to it.

2. On cash-strapped days, one can see the neighborhood ATM grinning from side to side.

3. The bugs in the ATM s/w get activated at the same rate of urgency with which you need cash.

4.The amount of currency inside the ATM is inversely proportional to the amount needed.

5. The newly installed standby machines are just that – stand by.

6. The first time ATM users who are learning all the functions will almost always be before you.

7. An ATM has a soul and a karma and the money in it is an illusion.

8. God doesn’t need cash. All ATM’s are in hell.

9. The queue at the ATM is directly proportional to the urgency of cash needed.

10.‘God-damn-you!’ command to an ATM means that you want to gift your card to it.


P.S: These are my ‘real life’ experiences/ lessons. Please abide by them seriously.

Vinphy’s Date Laws:

1. Prior to the special date, a mountain of a pimple will erupt overnight.

2. A certain well-wisher will fix blind dates for you on your bad-hair days only.

3. The only dress that fit correctly will be in the laundry just before a ‘sudden date’.

4. Your mother will wash that one best-fit, never-washed jean on the day of your ‘first impression date’.

5. If your date is a secret one, you will most definitely meet your curious neighboring aunty at the neighboring table.

6. Your date will almost always arrive after you have escorted a blind old man/woman to the other side of the road and returned to the meeting spot.

7. The more expensive your date dress, the more the chances of something spilling on it.

8. Dandruff comes along with the black dress.

9. Your date will almost always be shorter than you, the one time you wear that extra high, special stilettos.

10. High hopes on your old battered car is of no use; it will run smoothly on that special long drive.

P.S: Please share if you have more and I’m sure you guys have loads to share 🙂

Beauty and the life rainbow…

And just when I had begun enjoying the concept of life akin to chasing a rainbow and actually riding on it, along comes my old friend and blows it up! Remember my parlor wala fiasco and that girl who after much pleading and lauding finally relented to do the mowing ? I had sworn never to go there even at the risk of frightening the kids and adults alike in the family and elsewhere. But time and eyebrows wait for no man err..woman. Their collective desires conspired with the universe to literally push me there.

It so happened that I had reached this other parlor just a moment before they shut-shop for the day, even though I had ventured out early but its just that my day starts in the evening and boy! what a day..There were no parlors in my line of sight and the ones which ‘seemingly’ looked like parlors and catered to both men and women didnt seem worth it. Also, as I’m the chosen one and carry the thunder cloud right above me, it would so happen that there would be a raid the very moment I set foot to ask if this is ‘indeed’ a place where they ‘cut and trim’ hair or thread eyebrows. I could already sense the triumphant joys on the cops faces for catching me young at this Godforsaken place and teaching me a lesson. The probability is that this may happen like once in a million times when the cops were not ‘catered to’, but I’m sure it was waiting to happen as soon as I would set foot, rather it would be favorable only when I set foot. Period.

But I am not as stupid as I seem to look. So, I did not set foot in the ‘all-in-one’ parlor ! That left me again at sea, where do I go for a decent threading job? The usual parlor seemed quite decent and hey..what the heck..she isn’t the only girl there. If she is hell bent on making me feel like a disgrace to feminine beauty, I would replace her with the other efficient (read humane) girls. So, I go in there but alas they too were getting ready to shut-shop. And if Truth be told, who the hell am I kidding…I’m no celebrity. Let that be my self-promotion tactic for blogsville. The owner told me to come back tomorrow within the stipulated time. Ohh Well..yes madam! Needless to say that ‘the girl’ was super delighted to see the disappointment writ large across my face which was now resembling the debutant Karishma Kapoor with her squirrel-tailed eyebrows! I did not see the looks on the other girls though.

I walk out with my face down and the life rainbow somehow had transformed into a grayscale image. I was too ashamed to walk back home and scare the kids yet again. So I take this long walk on the highway, reminiscing on the parlor wali girl’s inhuman gesture and how all the parlors conspired to boycott me. It’s not as if I were walking around with a walrus moustache or a goatee, but I almost felt like I was!

I was nearly half way up the highway when a girl caught up with me and asked me whether I had come to the parlor some time back. She was very beautiful, the kinds a guy would take home to his parents. I faintly recognised her since she wasn’t in her uniform. I said yes. She asked me what exactly I had come for. I replied. She eyed my eyebrows sympathetically and told me to visit the parlor tomorrow without any further delay. As an urgent emergency procedure, she even offered to come home with me and operate upon me! I declined her ‘over humane’ gesture but inside I was very happy that a beautiful parlor-wali girl cared for me. I laughed at the walrus moustache and the goatee I had been wearing on my mind sometime back. Hmmm…and the life rainbow burst with colors once again!

P.S: I so love these beauty parlor-wali girls:)

When Ms. Junglee barged into the beauty parlor…

It was quite a dull day yesterday, though the spring has just sprung fresh warmth everywhere. Sadly, she couldn’t feel a thing. It was all hazy with some kind of fog wherever her eyes moved. On a day like this, a flavored tea would be quite potent to shoo away the fog. Alas! The haze was still there…

Life was calling but where was she? She, the favorite, she the damned soul, she the inspiration behind every murphy’s law, she the Frankensteinne! She glances at the mirror, just a second lesser than one can begin to say ‘F-R-A’, before the reflection gets misty. And what does she notice…a jungle complete with flora and fauna right above her eyes!

She zooms across to the nearest beauty parlor in sight and with God’s grace, they let her in.

Now what happened is the real ‘horror’ part of this post. She became ‘The lady in question’. They glared at her in utter disappointment with a look which seemed to say ‘ how-the-f**k-do-you-think-we-can-help-you’. If she could bury her head, she would do that right away!

Whoever said that eyebrows need to be threaded and not mowed down could well…just be proved wrong! After a hell lot of begging, the parlor wali girl relented and proceeded with her gardening tools err beauty tools. She gave her a decent brushing down too and I mean that literally.

Spring is all blooming now in bright colors and the haze has vanished. She now looks at the mirror till as long as one can say ‘Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the brightest of them all?’

P.S: And need I even state the obvious – I so hate these beauty parlor- wali girls:)

I have a dream…

All of us do – just that one dream to live for! Mine keeps waxing and waning along with the germs up there, now you know where. The same old culprits who play Pac-man with the map I so painstakingly etch in my mind. As I was day dreaming for today’s quota, as per my personal timetable, I had an ‘idea’ and what an idea, sirjee! Also to mark the moment, a light bulb did flash – ting!

What if, the scientists at NASA take up my case on priority and keep those goddamn space aeronautics studies on hold and provide me some ‘navigational’ moral support in my space? Come on, guys! Can’t you devise a gadget and insert into my brain, much like the game Pac-man, only the villains would be the new heroes. It would work somewhat like this: I draw my map, the nasty germs begin gobbling it up, the gadget is triggered to shoot little things (I don’t know what to name them but have envisioned them like the ones in picture), these things will go right after the germs and gobble them back, yeah, that sounds so good… Tit for tat!

My map would be secure and losing my way would be a thing of the past. I could then also volunteer as a guide for this otherwise complex metro. Yey! There must be a few thousands like me at least, and the additional thousands in the form of harassed passers- by who have to go out of their way to show us our way. Considering these large numbers, it is definitely a noble project worth taking up to ensure world peace.

And I do know about GPS enabled gadgets which work along with google maps but what about a tiny creak of a road, the kinds where the tiny creeps in my brain will have a field day? Either, you customize google maps for me, or you make my tiny Pac-man fighter and I’m sure this would be akin to moonwalk for you. So, all the best, guys! And, do not give moronic excuses like – we don’t do this, we love rocket science, etc.

Wanted: A Knight in matte cotton shirt!

Well, I’m no more a teenager with stars in my eyes and I’m ages away from being referred to as an adult female homo sapien. Now imagine me singing that Britney number – I’m not a girl…not yet a woman, but please, without her curves for Christ’s sake, mine are better! I am single now by choice but in love with my teddy who reciprocates unconditionally. So, one may safely presume that I’m stuck somewhere in a time warp! I also suck at every day relationships right from the traffic policeman, the building dog and her newborn litter, the crows nesting outside my kitchen window right up till the society watchman and the Sai baba temple pujari besides. Nobody seems to acknowledge my presence. I am the living dead or the dead living! And, my mum thinks only a man can save me now by way of marriage to me, Poor man!

So, is marriage the ‘be all and end all’ to a girl’s identity? Well, maybe! Every goddamn form wants to know your father and/or husband’s name. But, I’m in no hurry, I like it when the dogs stay away from me and I don’t find crows any cuter; what to say about the other ‘assorted’ folks, I come across every day if relatives are not enough punishment already! This is what I gather from their eyes, nose, ears et al except their tongue – Oh, She is waiting for Mr. Right! She is expecting Pierce now, and I mean like ‘N-O-W’! She thinks she is the diva queen- all this with giggles and muffled jokes doubting my sexual preferences. So, I take this opportunity to all and sundry – I am straight, very much straight, and as straight as a line joining two imaginary points anywhere and as straight as a light ray. I am not waiting for Mr. Right; he is as common a sight as an UFO (unidentified flying object). Well, I am no diva queen or any other queen either; I am just a girl at heart with dreams of an enchanting home somewhere bubbling with my kids and my partner for life.

So, all I want is one common man – any man with loads of common sense and can see through the obvious. Most definitely loaded with fresh jokes on him at all times. He should preferably be dressed up in matte cotton shirts only, I don’t fancy ‘shining armour’ anymore; you see I’m not into fairy tales and ‘happily ever after….’ fantasies. Apart from the usual attributes of TDH (tall-dark-handsome), absolutely great sense of responsibility, great conversationalist, great listener, great lover, best friend, the better cook, the hygienically-inclined, the ability to withstand female nagging, the supreme strength to change diapers every hour and that too cheerfully, genuine love for my folks – especially my mum, etc. etc., I want only an extra bit thrown for good measure to be referred to as my Mr. Right and that would be – ‘He should simply love me for no rhyme or reason’. I abhor terms and conditions in love and will go to any length to break all of them intentionally. Now, is this asking for too much?

Maybe, yes! Apart from the cotton shirt, how can one man alone be gifted so? So, nowadays I have started thinking on these lines – my preferences and the ultimate choice or the world’s preferences and a so called compromise! And I have come to this – I’m pretty soon going to forget the very essence of marriage if all these attributes are not present in a single man. Isn’t it exciting to be single and mingle with all the separate aforementioned men? Or, I will just place a finger on any of the profiles placed in front of me and make my mum and the other ‘interested parties’ happy?

Jaam…aur ek nasheeli shaam, Kishore da ke naam!

OK! This post isn’t about alcohol or the ama-ZING effects later on. This is me sharing my new found secret to an alternative to alcohol as I’m health and wealth conscious now:) It’s also got something to do with an advice from an old friend, philosopher and guide -‘Friedrich Nietzsche’, who told me that ‘For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication.’!!!

So, this post is about me and my state of mind nowadays – trying to get kinda intoxicated with emotions – deep seated love, sorrow, happiness, gratitude, anger, joy, hatred and mischief- just about everything is surfacing! In the absence of alcohol, every image of it looks so divine! And, what does a once-upon-a-time-moderate-drinker-now-abstaining supposed to do to get ‘intoxicated’?

Now, alcohol is pure nirvana, isn’t it? So, can there really be an alternative – an equal one?

Most regulars wouldn’t care about an alternative anyways. An alternative to the instant cure for escaping reality; an alternative to the free ticket to freedom; an alternative to the same highs; an alternative to …OK, you get the point. Now, my point…

Post strenuous and hardcore brainstorming, I got innovative and a light bulb did shine above my head – ting! I created a bar like effect around me to fool the brain though. You know the slow, soft music, happy- very happy-very,very happy people floating around, cloud number 9 just beside you, angels at your beck and call types, etc.etc. Given that I grew up on an ‘Imaginary boyfriend’ on the moon, this was nothing but cakewalk or so I thought. Imagining is my full time occupation but imagining something specific is like trying to walk in a straight line in high spirits. But, for art to exist, I have to get intoxicated!

Something was missing …just couldn’t point a finger though. Anyways, what I did was what I always do and that is to listen to the one and only juggler of melody in emotions, the greatest that ever was – Kishore Kumar – the other ‘Ganguly’! This man along with Burman have created eternal magic and I’m sure when my grand-grand kids read this, they too will not disagree. Just about every emotion that had surfaced mixed and dissolved into pure intoxication! A little necessary ambience would be silence, a dimly lit room – main aur meri tanhayi types or just very close friends – no alcohol…plain old water works wonders…it’s the tunes that lift your spirits, trust me!

One can’t imagine the kind of highs reached on listening to Kishore. It has to be experienced. I did and realized that it is beneficial – both in body and in spirit! Do try it for the sake of art…It will do wonders to your life. Cheers!

U.P.S (Useful post script): If you are a married man and your wife nags you to quit or nags habitually, you must listen to this Kishore da’s sure shot remedy:

Yeh jeevan hain…is jeevan ka…
yahi hain..yahi hain..yahi hain ..rang roop
thode gham hain…thode kushiyan..
thode gham hain…thode kushiyan…
yahi hain..yahi hain…yahi hain..chaav dhoop’

Lost !

…………………..this is what happened to me on a routine trip to my art materials supplier shop and one would wonder – it’s a routine trip, so how come Vin? Well, it so happened that the usual map I have in my mind after losing my way many times before, got deleted! Not accidentally though…remember the old culprits, those naughty germs in my brain. Yep, they were at it again. For those millions of my new readers, unaccustomed with my germs, please read an old post titled ‘Manzile apni jagah hain….raasthe apni jagah and GPS’, with which I also made my debut in Blogywood. Only the title is long but the post isn’t, I swear!

Let me make a few things clear first:

a. I am not directionally challenged. I challenge the directions.
b. Those germs are entirely a figment of my imagination. I only delete the brain map since I sincerely believe that if there’s a will, there’s a way. Agar chah hain, tho raah hain…..Hum honge kaamyab, ek din!

Things occurred somewhat like this….The shop is called ‘New Bombay Stationary Stores’ and it is as old as the Gateway of India gifted to King George a long long time ago. It is located in a lane called ‘Abdul Rehman Street’ in CST. There are millions of shops in the same street and another million roads in and around CST near Crawford market. Now, there aren’t any hoardings or billboards on this lane ‘Abdul Rehman Street’ so poor Abdul! Nor are there any trees, so poor me! What do I use as a base for my brain map then? Imagination …Life is my creation!

Unusual sounding shops would be the new billboards for me. When I returned from my second trip which was a long long one, needless to say that I got lost that day, I decided to take immediate steps for the map drawing. So, this is what was the route: the lane starts with the biggest BATA showroom – then Toy World – some shop selling arms and ammunition – a bylane called ‘Zanzibar Street’ – keep walking on the right till you see the red post box – that’s it, bang opposite the post box is a stupid shop selling labels and stickers (the shop isn’t stupid, the shopkeeper is and I’ll tell you why in a little while).

I have been somewhat successful in reaching my manzil with the help of this map in my subsequent trips, until yesterday which was my 7th or 8th trip maybe. It so happened that I had to hunt for new suppliers for a new idea I had. In the process of doing that, I got lost somewhere in that dingy lane, but this was nothing new. Getting lost was also a routine thing now.

I tried to get back to my route map, but just couldn’t find any of the strategic places I had made a note of. I was in the middle of millions of shops selling everything that man aspires to have, including maps. But I needed a personalized map – a map that understands me. Anyways, chah hain…raah bhi milegi….so, I inquired at a nearby shop if he knows the now popular AR street. He nodded sympathetically and pointed straight another 50 shops ahead. It was noon so no sympathy from the sun. Poor me walked straight ahead, keeping an eye for the red post box or any box which is red would do.

I finally got there and the stupid shopkeeper of that labels shop was grinning at me. He somehow knew of my days happenings. My face said it all! Our eyes met and we made the last conversation hopefully. He seemed to say ‘Kya madam..hamesha aathi ho yahi…hamesha punchthi ho…phir bhi’. I too gave an answering ‘look’- ‘main tho pehle baar aayi hun..woh meri judwa behen hain’ 🙂

By the way, I have decided not to go to that New Bombay stores anymore, I have found an easier route to a shop called ‘Himalaya Art stores’ bang opposite Sir J J School of Art!

Jahan chah…vahan raah. Jai Himalaya!

My weight-gain program!

OK, I am 6 kgs lesser than the ideal weight required as per body mass index and I too won’t tell you what my current weight or height is. Numbers are just that…senseless finite measures in an otherwise incomprehensible infinite universe! Though you may take a guess…even a moronic actor like Tusshar Kapoor can carry me but if he dares to do so, I swear I would claw him to pulp with my 1-inch nails! I am slim and daring but only not the healthy weight.

Now, coming to the weight-gain program designed by me, my action points are simple and derived from logic: Do the opposite of everything that is prohibited in all weight loss programs. So I checked Dr. Nigam’s, VLCC, Pretty slim clinic and a few others with quite impressive punchlines ‘Lose 8 kgs in 45 days or your money back’!! All they talk about is proper controlled diet and hell loads of exercises. So, it’s got to be the ‘eat and eat till you drop to sleep’ mantra for me then! What happened later is another story…

I have been gulping just about everything ever since I became aware of being underweight to the point that I got digestion related disorders, lactose-intolerance related disorders and not to mention my extreme affinity towards ‘rich’ foods – I began having a bar of chocolate every other day! Sadly, nothing had worked to the point required and I had been able to gain only one kilogram. One kg may be significant when you are in a weight loss program but trust me its nothing in a weight-gain one! Even stretch jeans look comfort fit on me.

But, me the woman of substance err the woman of slightly-less-substance was firm in her conviction. She believed that ‘Where there is ghee, there is also loads of fat gleefully settling around her for nonstop gossip” Many beauty conscious women avoid ghee so I thought this is perfect for me. I started dreaming about all the fat I’m about to gain, what women would say when I pass by : ‘Hey, look at her…she’s got it all man…all that plump and curves…I wonder how she got it?’ and all the south Indian movie directors making an offer to me – I would be their next plump heroine starring opposite Rajnikanth! Imagine me dancing and jingling all that adipose and becoming an instant heart throb of the south Indian men in the country that’s nearly 50 % of the Indian male population! WOW! Also, all the channels would be vying for my interview, my ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures would be shown by worried mothers to their teenage daughters who have been corrupted by Kareena and her senseless size zero; the plump me would be the new youth icon (female)!


Ghee it was that finally worked, but only a few grams. Stretch jeans still look comfort fit. I do sleep more with all that ghee but my constantly active brain like a cloud of mosquitoes buzzing over you on a night safari breaks down all that adipose into God knows what…I still can’t find much fat! I still look like ‘Laurel’ when I am with real ‘Hardy’s’.

Then it dawned on me. What my mom really wanted to say all these months and what she ended up actually telling me!! She always referred to my married friends, relatives, and neighbors and never failed to make a special mention of their post-marriage physique which was the ideal one. This means the only way for me to gain was to get married. Now, how can I even think of ‘doing it as a weight-gain exercise’ without getting married? Sounds exciting but hell, no..can’t indulge in it, I am better off looking like Olive Oyl…surely there’s a Popeye waiting for me somewhere…sometime! Ok Dreamland again!! Maybe, Pierce Brosnan, that hot Bond – his wife is really huge now:) The World is Not Enough!! Tomorrow Never Dies!!!

Dreamland zindabad…

My first commissioned artwork!

OK! I am no cartoonist but a good friend managed to make me one! It so happened that yesterday he sent his photograph with a strange request to make his portrait knowing very well that I’m not a portrait artist. Therefore, don’t accuse me of making faces – it’s not my my bread and butter! I worked hard towards achieving a museum-worthy portrait piece but his face triggered innate cartoonist skills instead. So, this is what happened…


Fig a: Photograph
Fig b: Photograph (modified) 

(added stubble to reflect growth while sleeping and also that he felt the previous one lacked resemblance. As for me, both of them lack any resemblance!) 
 
Fig c: Cartoon

Claimer: Any resemblance to the photograph is purely unintentional. In case of discrepancies, please attribute it to ‘artistic liberty’. Please give your valuable feedback and remember ‘It’s easy to make cartoons but difficult to make a cartoon character’- a quote by some famous cartoonist. But I have managed to create not only a ‘cartoon character’ but also a cartoon in my first portrait piece. Enjoy!