Earlier this year, I had resolved to see what could be done to avoid watching all the top-10 worst movies this year again. I discussed the situation with the wife, and she skillfully convinced me that it is my own fault that the movies are bad. Not only that, she also proved to me that watching bad movies improves memory, reduces cholesterol and fights global warming.

And so, reluctantly, I agreed when the wife announced that we were going to watch the movie “Welcome”. But all was not lost yet. I am not the one to take defeat lightly, and I had been working on a master plan to do something about this. The plan of action this time, is to stall and delay us so that we arrive at the theater late and end up missing the movie. Oh, what a brilliant plan! I am so proud of myself!

Soon, D-Day arrived, and it was time to go to the movie.

Wife: “Come on, come on, we’re getting ready. Are you dressed yet?“
Me: “In a second. Almost ready.”

I am sitting in front of the TV.

30 seconds later, The wife comes into the room.

Wife: “You said you were almost ready!“
Me: “Yeah. I said I’m almost ready to start getting ready.“
Wife gives me a cold stare. I try to resist the soul-penetrating tension she is creating. I can hold out for 4.5 seconds, and then I have to get up. Every second matters. My strategy is already working.

After much dilly-dallying, I am unfortunately at the door, ready to go. I look at my watch. We still have plenty of time to catch the movie. I need to stall. I put into action my master-plan.

Me: “What shoes do you think go with this outfit?“
The Wife looks at me strangely, trying to evaluate what I’m up to. I think she’s got a wiff of my plan. I have to be careful now.
Wife: “You have one one pair of shoes. There isn’t much choice now. Just put them on!”
Me: “That’s pretty bad. Oh wait! I can’t go out like this! I need to iron my shirt. Look at how wrinkled it is!“
Wife: “You’re wearing a T-Shirt and a jacket!“
Me: “Yeah. I want to iron my Jacket!“
Wife: “Nobody has ever ironed a jacket. Let’s go!“
Me: “Ha! That’s what they told Einstein when he was working on the theory of relativity. But he didn’t get discouraged by the negativity of others. He went on to do great things!“
Wife: “You want to do great things by ironing your jacket? Have you ever used an iron before?“
Me: “I’ve never used one, but that’s what discovery is all about!“
Wife: “What’s the matter with you? Come on, let go. We’re getting late!“

The wife is hurrying it up. Time to turn up the strategy to ‘evil genius’ level!

Me: “Wait, wait! My hairstyle is not right. I need to apply Hair Gel. I’ll be back in a minute!“
Wife: “You don’t even have Hair Gel. You’ve never used it.“
Damn! Why do I keep bringing up stuff that I’ve never used?
Me: “But we can’t go out now! There is Rahu Kala going on. It is inauspicious to leave the house between 5:00 and 5:45 PM. It said so in the horoscope today! Please don’t bring upon us the wrath of the planets! We’re all going to DIE!!!“

It got a little pathetic at the end, but one cannot be choosy when one is fighting battles. What matters in the end is victory. And I had mine! Oh Yes! My cunning strategy of stalling at the last minute worked, and we were a full 12 seconds late for the movie. I am going to keep working and refining this strategy. My goal is to raise it up to 45 seconds by 2010.

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I come home one day, to find the wife in a very pensive mood.

Me: “What happened? What are you so deeply thinking about?“
Wife: “I think we should go watch Saawariya again.“

I feel a sudden pain shooting through my heart. My brain cringes with the horrifying memories of those 3 hours spent watching the movie already.
Me: “*GASP*…I…I….I think I’m having a heart attack!“

Wife: “Drama Queen! Anyway, I have this feeling that I didn’t understand the movie. I didn’t ‘get it‘, you know what I mean?“
Me: “There’s nothing to ‘get‘ in the movie. Even I didn’t ‘get‘ it“
Wife: “That’s not surprising. The movie was targeted at a certain audience.“
Me: “What is that supposed to mean?“
Wife: “All I’m saying is that you need to expand your horizons a little bit. Learn how to appreciate art“
Me: “My horizon is too wide already. I’m starting to think about mailing Sanjay Leela Bansali a copy of his own movie. Looks like he forgot to watch it himself.“
Wife: “Anyway, we haven’t watched a movie all week.“
Me: “That is a GOOD THING!“
Wife: “You know what? You’re pretending to hate the movie, but your subconscious liked the movie so much that you can’t stop talking about it.“
Me: “I’m not talking about that stupid Saawariya movie.“
Wife: “See, you did it again!“
Me: “Oh! Wait a minute…My suconciousness wants to say something….I…SLEPT…THROUGH…THE…MOVIE…“
Wife: “Very funny. Oh, by the way, we’re going to watch the movie ‘Goal‘ on Sunday“
Me: “Why?“
Wife: “To help you connect with your inner self.“
Me: “My inner self is well connected, thank you. 8Mbps Broadband, too! If my inner self watches this movie, then it’ll probably disconnect from me.“
Wife: “You owe it to me.”
Me: “My inner self will need to see a psychiatrist if it watches the movie.“
Wife: “Oh by the way, you’re paying for the movie. Thanks a ton!“
Me: “NO I’M NOT!“
Wife: “Oh, I’d check your credit card statement. I think you might find something interesting there.“
Me: “AAaarrrrghhhhhhh…“

So, it turns out, that not only have I lost 3 hours of my life that are not coming back, but apparently I ‘volunteered‘ to pay for the movie tickets! Sanjay Leela Bansali has taken my time and money too! I WANT THEM BACK! DO YOU HEAR ME SANJAY LEELA BANSALI?

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Hey everyone! I’m sorry I’ve not been posting regularly. But I’ve been really busy playing with my latest electronic toy - A Digital Voice recorder.

This thing has me totally hooked. It allows me to record anything, anytime and play it back later. I always carry it around. It’s fun to hear my own voice. Just think of all the things you can do! You can send the voice recorder to all your meetings where it will record what everyone said, so that you can ignore it later. Also, you can use the time you saved by doing more productive things, like reading this blog.

But the best part is that now I can tell jokes to myself. Usually, it’s difficult to laugh at your own jokes. Kinda like tickling yourself. But this way, I can tell a joke to myself, and then play it back later when I’m feeling down. My own jokes sound so much funnier when I hear them later!

I feel so bad for not having this when I was in College. I could have sent this to the class and gone playing snooker.

Me: “Prof, I’m not going to come to class from tomorrow. But I’m going to send my Voice Recorder instead to listen to your lecture. Please give me attendance”
Prof: “No. If you’re not in class, no attendance”
Me: “But this thingy is so much better than me.”
Prof: “How?”
Me: “Well, the Recorder won’t organize a tic-tac-toe tournament during your lecture distracting everyone in a 10-foot radius.”
Prof: “It’s a deal!”

Having the Recorder is a little bit like having the ability to time-travel. You can ask everyone to talk into the recorder in the present, and listen to it in the future, and respond to their past questions in the future, which is really the present when you play it, which means we are currently in the future. Or is that the past? Hmm…I’m presently confusing my future self.

Anyway, I think this will come very useful when having “discussions” with the wife.

Wife: “We need to talk about the shopping we need to do for Diwali”
Me: “Sure. Why don’t you tell my Recorder everything, and I’ll get back to you when my TV show ends”
Wife: “I think you need to start paying more attention to what is happening in the real world instead of….”
Me: “Can you tell that to the Recorder too? And, it can only store 44 hours of sound, so…Try to keep it short, OK?”

I think that will work great, no?

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In this post, I’ll share with you some lessons that I recently learnt from the wife, the hard way, about how to successfully carry more than 100 Kgs of stuff back to India from your latest US trip.

Lets say you went on a Shopping Spree when you were in the US, and bought way more stuff than the Airlines will let you carry back. What do you do? For the record, most airlines will allow you 2 bags of 32Kgs each, but what if you’ve bought well over 100Kgs of stuff. What do you do now?

Here are 4 easy steps to getting all that stuff back to India without paying *any* excess baggage fee. All you need is a little bit of cunning and trickery and an unsuspecting husband.

Step 1: Stuff your own bags to the absolute limit.
This step requires some super skills and a total disregard for the laws of Physics. You stuff your bags until they can take no more. Then you stuff them even more. You keep on stuffing until you have enough density to be dangerously close to creating a black hole.

Step 2: Take one of your husband’s bag, throw out his stuff, and then put your own stuff in it.
The key to this step is not letting your husband know that you’ve completely stuffed his suitcase with your stuff. He’s going to have to carry his suitcase when he comes back, so he’ll get all your shopping automatically.

Step 3: Give more stuff to your husband, and ask him to bring it back with him.
The key part in this step is to ask nicely. Say something along the lines of “There’s this tiny-winy little things that are not fitting in my bag, can you bring them back with you? Thanks so much. I promise I’ll make you Alu Paratha if you bring them…“. Another important thing is to “accidentally forget” to mention that you’ve already stuffed one of his bags.

Step 4: Hide all the remaining stuff in your husband’s wardrobe.
…and don’t say anything about it. When your husband prepares to leave, he’ll “discover” all this stuff that you’ve cleverly hid, and he’ll have to get it back with him. They key is to make sure he discovers the hidden stuff only *after* you’ve already gone.

I can assure you, this strategy works *really* well in real life. Just ask my wife. And in case you’re worried about the husband, don’t be. He’ll only have to throw away all his clothes to make room for all your stuff, but that’s just collateral damage. Everything is fair in Love and War. Especially fair if it’s both.

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Apparently, Life is unfair. I was shocked to find out. I always thought that Life came with a lifetime warranty. Unfortunately, as it turns out, that isn’t true.

When I was little, I thought everyone got turns getting first rank in class. I first started getting suspicious when the same girl got the first rank for the whole year in 3rd standard. But when I didn’t get my first rank in 6th standard also, I thought something was wrong, so I went and asked my teacher.

Me: “Ma’am, when will I get the first rank?”
Teacher: “Eh? You want to get the first rank? That’ll be the day. Hehehee”
Me: “When will my turn come?”
Teacher: “If you want the first rank, why don’t you study?”
Me: “WHAT? I HAVE TO STUDY TO GET FIRST RANK?”

After that episode, I permanently gave up the dream of getting a first rank. But I still had faith that Life was fair.

My faith was fundamentally shaken when in college, one day after the internal exams, we were, as usual, arguing about marks with the lecturer.

Me: “But this answer is exactly correct. You have to give me full marks for this question.”
Lecturer: “That’s not what the text book says. The book says ‘public static void’ is the signature of the main function. You’ve written ’static public’ instead of ‘public static’. No marks for you”
Me: “But it’s the exact same thing. The ORDER doesn’t matter. YOU ARE WRONG!”
Lecturer: “DON’T RAISE YOUR VOICE! I will call the principal”
Me: “But my answer is correct. Go check with any compiler. You have to give me marks!”

As I was standing there, negotiating my marks like haggling over the price of tomatoes with a street vendor, a pretty girl walked up to the lecturer.

Pretty Girl : “Sir, it seems there has been a mistake in my marks. Can you please increase the marks for this question?”
Lecturer: “Why?”
Pretty Girl: “Sir, because you are a fair and ethical person and because if you give me 1 more mark, then I’ll get 25, and I’ll be very thankful to you, and I’ll tell everyone how nice a person you are”
Lecturer: “Well, OK. Here, 25-on-25.”
Pretty Girl: “Thank you so much sir!”
Me: “WHAT? YOU GAVE HER MARKS AND YOU DIDN’T GIVE ME MARKS? HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?”
Lecturer: “Shut up and go sit down.”

Eventually, I didn’t get the extra marks. The pretty girl later told me that you have to be nice and polite when you ask for favors. Give the other person what they want. In this case, the Lecturer wanted some respect, and that’s what she gave him. The Lecturer didn’t want to be told he’s an idiot for not knowing simple stuff.

This, apparently, is called “street smarts”. Interestingly, I don’t have any of it, but some pretty girls seem to have lots of this stuff. Have you noticed how they seem to get most of what they want?

Anyway, I ended up marrying that pretty girl, but she promised not to use any tricks to manipulate me like she did that teacher in college.

Well, I have to go now and drop my wife to her friend’s place, pick up her clothes from the laundry and arrange for dinner. See ya’ll tomorrow.

Wait a minute…

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It’s 15th of August, and the wife is packing her bags. She’s going to The America for 4 weeks. And I’m celebrating Independence Day right here in Bangalore. Anyway, she’s “encouraging” me to help her pack all her stuff. Unfortunately for her, there’s a Rakhi Sawant “Top 10 songs” special on Channel V, which I absolutely have to watch.

Wife, screaming from inside: “Come here and help me fold all these Salwar Kameezes“
Me, grunting: “But there is a special program on TV!”
Wife: “What are you watching, anyway?”
Me: “Hmmm? Oh, It’s a discovery channel special. About wild cats. And how they stalk their prey.”
Wife: “Is that more important than me?”

That, as I’ve come to learn very quickly, is a checkmate. That question has no answer. It’s a rhetorical that basically translates to “Come here this instant or I will kill you.”

I drudgingly go into the room where there are more clothes than I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re all over the place, like flood waters after a deadly storm.
Me: “Are all these clothes yours?”
Wife: “Of course. Whose else can they be?”
Me: “You’re planning to take all these? In those 2 bags? They’ll never fit.”
Wife: “Of course they’ll fit.”
Me: “That’s against the laws of physics. See, the law of conservation of mass says…”

Wife is giving me THE LOOK.

Wife: “Look, are you going to help me or not?”

Another of those rhetorical questions. This one translates to: “Fold all these clothes into 6 categories. Partywear, Office wear, Office Casuals, Office semi-formals, Office formals and Friday Casuals.” And that’s just the office wear.

Me: “You’re planning to take 5 pairs of shoes?”
Wife: “Look, just put them in, OK?”
Me: “But you’re going only for a few weeks. Why would you possibly need 5 pairs of shoes?”
Wife: “Stop arguing, OK. Just do as you’re told.”
Me: “You do realize you’re only allowed 2 bags, 23 Kgs each?”
Wife: “STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT THE BAGS”
Me: “You’re never going to be able to carry all this. Hell, you won’t even be able to push the Trolley with these bags on it.”
Wife: “That’s it! GET OUT!

VICTORY! Hahahaha…I had managed to nag the wife enough to secure release. Oh, it’s a good feeling. Now I know what she feels everyday. I anxiously get back to the program. The countdown has already reached song #6.

Suddenly, there’s a blood cuddling scream. It’s coming from inside the room. The Wife has let out such a high-pitched shreek, that the clothes must have all folded themselves in fear. I run inside the room.

Me: “What happened? What happened?”
Wife: “The…Oh my God. The… red… I….”
Me: “Red what? You saw a cockroach?”
Wife: “No…no…OK. This is an emergency. The red thing…Oh no! How could I forget. Oh no!”
Me: “Take a deep breath. Relax. What did you forget? Is your passport locked in the office? Is your VISA expired? What’s the matter?”
Wife: “The Red Bag. I forgot to buy a red bag! Now I don’t have a bag to go with this dress.”
Me: “WHAT?”
Wife: “We have to go and buy one now. Let’s go”
Me: “Now? It’s 10 in the night!”
Wife: “I don’t think you appreciate the seriousness of the problem.”

Much convincing and cajoling later, the wife finally agrees that it is possible that she could buy one when she lands in the US. After 15 minutes, she’s managed to calm down enough that she’s breathing normally.

The rest of the packing session doesn’t go so well. The bags are overweight, she can’t find the Knoor soup packs, and there’s no room left for all her watches.

Eventually, she does get all done. I want to tell her that her Chanel No. 5 is not going to be allowed in her handbag, but decide against it. Let the security people tell her. After all, they’re paid for dealing with hazardous objects. And perfumes.

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This is the second part of a series. The first part is here.

Harry Potter has this really cool toy that I’d love to have. I think it’s called the invisibility cloak. You can put it on and simply disappear. I desperately needed one of those because my Vegetable Hydrabadi Biryani was looking more like a bomb than like food. I needed an escape plan.

I evaluated the situation and concluded that my options at this point were:
Option 1:
Throw the mess out of the window, and say “I ate it all because it tasted so good” and hope the wife buys it.
Option 2:
Run across the hall, out of the door into the street, and go into hiding for a few months.

At this point, option 2 seems more attractive. Just as I’m trying to see if the front door is bolted, the wife finishes talking on the phone, and is coming back into the kitchen.

Me: “No no….Why don’t you call all your other friends?”
Wife: “What’s that smell?”
Me: “That’s my new deodorant. Do you like it?”
Wife: “Something is burning!”
Me: “That’s you being jealous because I can cook better than you.”
Wife: “It’s coming from the kitchen”
Me: “Is that a new dress you’re wearing? It looks FABULOUS on you!”
Wife: “What have you done?”
The wife definitely knows something is wrong. It’s hopeless. I’m dead.

“I …err…. I think I’ll go check my e-mail … or something”. I try to make my escape, but before I even get out of the kitchen, all hell breaks loose…

Wife: “OH MY GOD!!!!”
Me: “I beg your pardon?”
Wife: “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
Me: “You mean to the biryani? Not much….you see…The garam masala… …I… I didn’t know…”
Wife: “DID YOU PUT ALL OF IT INTO THIS?”
Me: “There’s still a little bit left at the bottom of the pack, if you want some more…”
Wife: “ARE YOU CRAZY? What’s the MATTER with you?”

What followed were a series of explicitives that are best left unsaid. There were a few in there whose meaning I was not clear on, but decided that this was not the best time to ask for clarifications. After much monologue, the conclusion was that I was a stupid idiot that could not understand even simple instructions. That seemed reasonable to me, and I agreed with the wife’s conclusion. That seemed to calm her down a little bit.

Wife: “What are we going to eat now?”
Me: “We could still order pizza.”
Wife: “I WANT TO EAT HOME FOOD!”
Me: “Yeah, don’t worry, they’ll deliver it home.”
Wife: “NOT LIKE THAT!”
Me: “Hmmm…..”

The wife now decides that we will go to her mom’s house, where we can reliably get home-cooked food. My protests are duly ignored, and we end up in the car, on our way to their house. It’s a short 20-minute drive, and during that time the wife gives me the silent treatment.

We land up at their house. Her dad opens the door.
“Oh, hello?” he says
“We’re here for dinner because a certain someone managed to screw up our dinner”, the wife says pointedly.
“Oh! You should have called. But that’s OK. We’ve just ordered 2 large pizzas! That should be enough for all of us. Come on in!”

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