Since I’ve been writing Aditya’s Advice Column, you (the readers) have been asking the questions and I’ve been giving the answers. But not today. Today, I’m asking a question, and I want you, the readers, to give me some gyaan about it. The person that gives the best answer wins a secret prize! So don’t wait. Leave your answers as comments!

Q: I’m really bad at remembering birthdays of folks (I have no trouble remembering my own b’day, though). So I met this friend today, and I’m am generally chatting with him. I suspect that it is his birthday, but don’t know how for sure. If I ask him if it is his birthday today, then I’ll come out as a jerk . If I don’t ask, and if it is indeed his birthday, then I’ll come out as jerk again, for not wishing him “happy birthday”. What should I do?

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This is part 2 of a series. Part 1 is here.

I’m sitting in a fancy restaurant with some exotic italian dish in front of me. Not only does this “exotic italian dish” look like a bar of RIN soap, but it also smells like one. The problem, as always, is my big mouth. The wife had warned me that this would happen, but I made a big fuss of being “culturally sophisticated” and “eating like the Romans” or something like that, and this dish has turned into an ego issue for me.

I have managed to stuff only one bit of this dish down my throat, but my stomach is not co-operating in this war. It is desperately trying to shoot the thing out right from where it came. Only my mouth that is firmly held shut is preventing an eruption from my stomach.

The wife can sense my discomfort. She has a sort of sixth sense in these matters. She launches another attack.

Wife: “How’s your Gratin de Verdure?”
Me: “Exquisite!”

I say that very calmly, without any hint slipping by that my internal organs are in revolt. She thinks for a second if I might really be enjoying it. Ah! This is my chance. I plan my counter-attack. But I’m not going to come out directly at her. Now, it is time for THE ART OF WAR!

Me: “Would you like some?”

What a beautiful move! As soon as she says she’d like to try some, I’ll dump a huge piece on her plate. She won’t like it, and SHE’LL have to admit she doesn’t like it, and I can harp on how “one has to develop a taste for the fine cheeses” or something like that. But the biggest bonus is that I’ll get rid of a huge chunk from my plate.

The wife regards this question carefully. She’s trying to evaluate if I’m being completely honest about it. I keep my calm. She stares me in the eye, trying to look into my soul. I stare back at her, keeping eye contact. The key to such situations is to not loose eye contact. If I look away now, she’ll know I’m lying.

A few moments later, she says “Yes”. Bravo! My trick is working! Aahhh… Now to move in for the kill.

I stick my fork into one of the four big pieces. Just as I’m going to put it on her plate, which she’s held forward, I realize that even if I get rid of this one piece, there are 3 more remaining. I think quickly. Two pieces! That’s it. I should give her two pieces!

I take my fork once more, and stick it through the second big piece as well. But she notices this, and immediately figures out what’s happening. Before I can put the two pieces on her plate, she withdraws it.

Wife: “You know what, I’ll just have a bite from your plate.”

And she reaches over to my plate and cuts a tiny-tiny piece out. Oh NO! My greed has cost me. I should have got rid of at least the one piece. Now I’m stuck with all 4 pieces.

She takes the tiny piece and eats it. I can see that it visibly disgusts her, but she manages to eat it anyway.

Wife: “It’s very good!”

Oh No! A counter-counter-attack! Now, she’s acknowledged that the dish is good, which means if I say it is bad, then she’ll take all my gyaan and give it back to me. Crap! Crap! Crap! The situation just got worse.

My mind is racing to figure out alternatives. Can I just dump the whole thing under the table when she’s not looking? Maybe I can distract her and swap this dish with the neighboring table. That old lady next table probably won’t even figure out what happened. This is a sticky situation to be in.

I consider just admitting defeat at this point, but quickly back away. If I give up now, I’ll have to listen to those dreaded 4 words that every man fears - “I TOLD YOU SO!”. She’ll give me a lecture on how she told me this would happen and all that stuff that will destroy my ego. No, failure is not an option!

As I’m considering if it’s feasible to knock the plate over and say “Oh no! How clumsy of me. Too bad I can’t eat it now!”, the wife excuses herself and heads to the ladies room.

HERE’S MY CHANCE!

As soon as she’s out of sight, I frantically motion for the waiter. He comes to the table, and I ask him to quickly clear my plate. He looks at me, then at the dish, of which only 2 small bites have been eaten.
Waiter: “Did you enjoy your meal, sir?”
A wise ass. I scream at him:
Me: “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?!?”
I shoo him away and he takes the plate away with him.

When the wife comes back, she asks what happened to my dish.
Me: “Oh, it was so good, that I couldn’t resist stuffing every last bit of it. I ate it all up. Yup, all of it, every last bite. These Italians sure know a thing or two about food! HaHa!”
She looks at me weirdly, and has probably figured out what I’ve done, but she lets it go.

I am so happy to have gotten rid of that thing that calm and peace are returning back to me. My ego and my stomach have just made peace again, and everything is fine once more. But as I sit there, the pizza that the wife is having is starting to smell very delicious, and I’m starting to get very very hungry.

Wife: “Oh, I’d offer you some pizza, but considering you stuffed yourself with the ‘Gratin de Verdure’, you probably don’t have any place left?”

Ooooohhhh…. she’s going to let me have it. She’s not going to give it up so easily.

Me: “True! I’m completely stuffed. Fully. Not one bit of space!”

Oh, this stupid ego is really costing me. As the evening wears on, I get hungrier. I try to order deserts, but the wife skillfully shoots down that as well, and I have to return home, more hungry than ever. My stomach is behaving like a 5-year old, screaming and shouting for food, and I can’t take it anymore. I can feel another war brewing inside me. This time, my stomach and ego and involved in a skirmish. Just as we get home, my stomach throws a round-kick and knocks my ego out cold, and takes control of me.

Me: “I’M HUNGRY!!!!!! PLEASE MAKE ME SOME FOOD!!!!”

The wife has a hearty laugh at this. She knew I wouldn’t be able to survive for long. She doesn’t lecture me, but instead nicely makes me a sandwich.

Aaahh…I figure out why she’s not said “I TOLD YOU SO!”. She’s not going to say anything now and waste this wonderful victory. She’s going to save it, and use it as heavy artillery when she REALLY needs it sometime later. This is not over yet! The battle goes on…

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The wife and I are out for dinner in a fancy, upscale Italian restaurant. This place is so dimly lit that I can barely read the menu. I’ve never really understood why these fancy places have dim lights. Probably so that you don’t see the prices on the menu. But I have only myself to blame for getting us here.

The Wife wanted to go and eat Masala Dosa. I like Masala Dosa too, but for some reason, my ego, which is sleeping most of the time, suddenly got up and made a big speech about how we should be culturally sophisticated and try all kinds of cuisines. I got into an argument with the wife, and made some preposterous claims, just for the heck of it.

Among other things, I claimed that I’m a very culturally sophisticated person. Apparently, I enjoy a wide variety of cuisines, with Thai and Argentinean food being my favorite. I also, it seems, don’t like Pizza and other clichéd recipes that have been corrupted to suite the common man’s taste, but preferring instead to try the exotic flavors of the world.

I made all these claims randomly, of course, but the wife has taken me on, and here we are, sitting at an expensive Italian restaurant where I can’t even order my favorite - Pizza - because I’m pretending to be culturally sophisticated.

The waiter comes by our table, and asks if we are ready to place our orders.

The Wife: “I think I’m going to have the Pizza!”
Me (chuckling to myself): “How cliché!”
Wife gives me the look. Now, I have to pretend to be “culturally sophisticated”, and need to order something unpronounceable. That’s what culturally sophisticated people do.
Me: “I’m going to have the Gratin de Verdure, with Mushroom Sauce, please.”
I can see a hint of a suppressed smile in the waiter as he writes that down. “Excellent choice, sir!” he says and walks away. I can definitely sense that he’s laughing. I hope I haven’t gotten myself into trouble ordering some random thing.

As we are waiting for our respective meals to arrive, I give the wife a good lecture about being culturally sophisticated. “It is important to express your palate to a wide variety of flavours. A well travelled man is one that has taken in all experiences - The new and the old, and is not afraid to mix it up a little bit. To be culturally sophisticated, one must learn to live with the traditions of the land - When in Rome, do like the Romans! Expand your senses to the richness of diversity, and it will return the favor in time!”

I wasn’t really sure what all that meant, but it sounded culturally sophisticated, and so appropriate at the time. But in hindsight, it was a big mistake, but these kinds of things are only obvious in hindsight.

The waiter bought our dishes. He placed a yummy-looking pizza in front of the wife. And as he placed my dish in front of me, I had a panic attack.

It was a yellowish-blue bar of what looked like RIN soap, cut into four long pieces, with some gooey dark liquid that looked like old engine oil next to it.

Me: “Looks delicious, doesn’t it?”

I had to keep up my culturally sophisticated image. Especially after my big lecture about it earlier. I couldn’t loose face over this. Oh god, why do I talk so much? This is not the first time my big mouth has gotten me intro trouble. But wait…Maybe it won’t be so bad. It just looks bad, but maybe it tastes awesome!

Just as I was thinking to it, the smell of the dish hit my senses like a cannon ball - Stinky cheese smell! It was so nauseating that I felt like I was going to throw up. But I calmed myself down. Can’t admit defeat! I’m a culturally sophisticated person. Can’t loose face.

Wife: “Let’s start. What are you waiting for?”

Ohhhh, she was playing the game. She probably sensed my fear. She was turning it on, just to break me. If I admitted I’d screwed up now, this defeat would stick with me forever - I’d never hear the end of it. I couldn’t let that happen. She knew this, and was attacking me, trying to bring me down. But no, I was not going to admit defeat. This is no dinner, this IS A WAR!!!!

[Update: Part 2 is here]

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It seems that there is some “journalistic integrity” or some such thing by allowing your opposition to present an alternative viewpoint. And so, here is Paras Sharma, or JustPazz as he’s known on his blog, with the inside scoop on me.

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Friends, Readers, Fellow Romans, Lend me the ears!!….Today I wish to bring to your notice how an unassuming, innocent looking, ‘Software Officer’ is stealing precious moments away from your lives. Moments you could have spent with your family, your loved ones, the hot girl next door, or just sleeping, this man is sucking them away without you even noticing anything of out place. You don’t even know what I am talking about right now but as we speak over 3600 hours have been taken away from the world in the last 6 months alone by this nuisance. And I’m not even talking about Bird Flu…..I’m talking about a brain virus called Aditya Kulkarni who is slowly seeping to the rest of the world, since July 2007, when the first outbreak was reported in Bangalore.You may think of this as an attempt to sabotage a rival bloggers reputation by a struggling humor writer who has been writing for a longer period of time (and better to might I add). You may say I am jealous because he garners the same number of hits in two days that I do in a month. While all of that is true, it is irrelevant. The purpose of this expose is to attempt to rescue the 90 innocent souls who readily plugged him into their daily lives and the hundreds others who could follow suit and fall prey.

I did some googling on Aditya Kulkarni…how do you like that PK! And just by my primary research I found some startling truths, some not as relevant as the others, but who cares. If you still don’t believe me, be prepared for a rude awakening.

Firstly, Aditya who comes across as a harmless humour writer, is actually a conman. You might say, WHAT RUBBISH, and go back to chat with your online fraands. Aditya’s blog is part of his plan to take over the world and become the One-World Dictator some day. He plans to publicize his propaganda through means of his blog. As more and more readers come by, he plans to float his own religious - cult – The Adityaists. Soon enough he will claim tax-exemption as the head of a religious sect and with all that spare cash, he will further his efforts to someday take over this planet. Who knows he can be an alien too…Look at that unusually round head and buttony eyes, doesn’t it seem obvious already.

But to make this evil system work, he needs to distract you and get all your personal details. He plans to make a fool out of himself on the internet so you’d visit his site more often, thereby divulging all your personal details one by one.

Today he asks you to click on his ads and if you are generous enough, to send him some donations, but tomorrow, mark my words, he will be out with his wifey dearest shopping for Rakhi Sawant DVDs, Tinkle Comics Omnibuses, and home theater systems for the wifey so they can truly understand what Saawariya was all about….all with your money….because after one point of time, he’ll have all your details, even your credit card numbers….Chew on that for a while.

For those of you who know him as a person and would beg to differ, beware, for you are at greater risk.

Take the example of the poor victim Drinivas (name changed to protect privacy). He didn’t ever visit Aditya’s blog, or even use the internet, but he was a victim none-the-less. Why you ask? Simply because Aditya already had first hand information on him which needless to say he used against him.

Recollecting the trauma of the day he discovered he was being mocked on the internet by a so-called friend, Drinivas said,

“When at first I received phone calls and messages from my friends saying that I was the laughing stock of the internet, I didn’t believe them. Then someone linked me to Aditya’s blog. I didn’t suspect anything out of place at first, even though the story closely resembled mine. I though of it as a co-incidence. Maybe there was a Drinivas out there somewhere. But the stories didn’t stop there, there were more blog posts, about topics which were increasingly private in nature. I started to grow suspicious when Aditya mentioned that Drinivas also had a classmate called Dwetha…who seemed a lot like my actual classmate…Dwetha (name changed to protect privacy again). I wanted to sue for defamation but Aditya placated me and said I could make fun of him on his own blog by being a guest writer. But my awesomely funny jokes were misconstrued and once again I was made to look like an idiot. Now over 10,000 people each month send me insulting letters and make crank calls. I was so frustrated that I had to secretly move to Dunnyvale (location changed to protect anonymity).”

Dwetha, when contacted was unavailable for comment, but sources revealed she had become dependent on sleeping pills and was a shadow of her once chirpy self. And so far attempts to find out the true identity of one Chitradeep Chetty have proved unsuccessful. We suspect the name has been tampered with yet again.

But the most shocking revelation came from Mrs. Kulkarni herself. In an online conversation, she revealed to this writer that the only things that were true about Aditya’s write-ups featuring her were that, Aditya has a wife….nothing more. She further revealed that indeed there was a funny person in their household but hinted that it wasn’t Aditya.

The facts have been placed plainly in front of you ladies and gentlemen. It is now upto each one of you to bring an end to the very menace we helped grow. Stop visiting Aditya’s website, he is an evil evil man, henceforth visit only http://justpazz.wordpress.com

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It’s time again for Aditya’s Advice Column

Q: I’m a feminist, and a very passionate one that that. But there is this guy at work that keeps arguing pointlessly about feminism with me. He doesn’t have anything positive to say, and I think he’s arguing just for the fun of it. Is it OK if I use my Karate skills and kick this guy?
- Ghayal

A: I completely understand your frustration, Ghayal. I’ve known guys like that. But you know what? People that argue pointlessly are often the ones that have the greatest wisdom. Pointless Wanderings, as I’m sure you know, are the contained in the Principles of the Japanese art of Zen. The ancient Indian texts also refer to Pointless Wanderings extensively - Also known as “meditation” to the common man. So I urge you to look deeply at this person’s ramblings, go to a mountain top and meditate on what they mean.

Also, I understand your urge to use your 2 violent skills - Feminism and Karate - together. I would direct your energy towards Sanjay Leela Bansali, who has managed to make several anti-feminist movies. “How” you ask? Have you noticed that SLB’s movie titles are all Male sounding?

“Saawariyaa“, and not “Saawariyee“. “Devdas“, and not “Devdasi“. “Black“, and not “Pink“. If anyone deserves the kick, it’s Sanjay Leela Bansali. Best of luck with that. Let me know how it goes.

Q: I’m in my final year of Engineering, and we have our placements coming up soon. With the recession and all happening, everyone is saying that it’s going to be a tough year for placements. What should I do to maximize my chances during the interview?
- K

A: Getting prepared for interviews is one of those very important life-skills that colleges ignore to teach the students - along with kite-flying, jargoneese-speaking and back-calculations. Fortunately, I can give you some interview tips:

Always be prepared for answers to common questions. One of my friends, Uddwal, was an expert at interviewing. Check out his answers, they may be helpful to you.

Interviewer: So, why do you want this job?
Uddwal: Oh, I don’t really want this job. This job is my backup. But thanks for asking, anyway.

Interviewer: Where do you see yourself 5 years from now?
Uddwal: My friend and I plan to become Tobacco farmers. I want to do timepass in your company till then. I heard you have a snooker table?

Interviewer: And finally, Do you have any questions for me?
Uddwal: Yes. How many interviewers does it take to change a lightbulb?
Interviewer: Excuse Me?
Uddwal: Only one, but he’s going to ask the candidate to do it, because the interviewer doesn’t know the answer himself. Hehohehehoahaharharhar!

Q: I’m the big boss of a largish software company that makes operating systems and such things. I’m retiring later this year, and I have a bunch of money stashed up that I don’t know what to do with. I’m thinking I’ll give it away to charity. What do you think?
- Bill G

A: Hi Bill! I think it’s a bad idea to give away your tiny little savings to charity. What will you eat after you retire? But if you feel strongly about it, you can go ahead and give it to charity.

But before you do, you should ask which group of people deserves the money the most? I think the answer is Bloggers. Yes, these are the under-previleged group that lives on the streets of the internet, leading miserably lives, trying to get by on the daily laughs that they get on their blogs. Nobody cares about their plight. They need the money the most. Especially young Bloggers, say in the 25ish age group whose names start with an ‘A’? If you donate money to this very charitable cause, you will automatically get a ticket to heaven, and that too business class! What a good deal, no?

So do your soul a good deed and donate the money. Send me an email if you need specific details (like bank account numbers and such).

If you’d like to ask a question in Aditya’s Advice Column, send a mail to advice@pointlesswanderings.com. Don’t worry, your identity will be kept confidential.

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My funky Mummies-hate-the-stock-market theory found some subscribers today, when The Economic Times published my poetic interpretation of the Sensex! Check out the online edition here.

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Oh! The beautiful life of the good old days,
Filled with memories of my snooker craze!
A Happy life, with absolutely no worry,
Time passing us by without any hurry.

Where “by-two” coffees qualified as a treat,
And eating 6 dosas counted as a big feat!
Rushing through the morning in a mad blur,
Just to be on time and say “Present Sir!”

Spending the sem, revolving around pretty girls,
But when finals came, getting sucked into swirls!
Studying all night, just one day before the exam,
And then fighting for marks, Oh! What a scam!

Never ever aware what real life skills we lack,
Whiling away time discussing Shahruk’s 6-pack!
I miss those days of in-the-moment living,
Now knowing what the hell I was doing.

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