The Crooked Cockroach

An update

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on November 6, 2009

This post is just a small update. For all my new writings, please update your subscriptions to my old-new [that’s right! You’ll know why once you visit the old-new blog] address – here.

I no more am that damn cockroach anymore. Cockroaches have a small life span anyways. I’m just your regular guy next door with the same old sapne as you. I’m the guy your mom told you to stay clear of.

I – have just relocated.

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The pooper – Part I

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on November 4, 2009

The hostel my friends, has a lovely pooper
It poops here; it poops there
It poops every-damn-where

It poops in people’s room; it poops on the volley ball ground
On frantic searching it is never to be found

The pooper is a pain; O what a shame!
Not knowing where to drain, it makes me want to whip it with a cane

Now tell me, with all the filthy smell, wouldn’t you want to be cruel?
Sadly you can’t do anything
‘coz the pooper has the tiny office lady’s solid backing

Sometimes my friends, with great confusion I wonder
If life due to this pooper has become a big blunder
So, I think its time to flex the arm
Before this place becomes a s******g farm

Arise! Awake! And fight back
‘coz pooping randomly isn’t any average Joe’s knack

If on reading the above ‘poem’ you haven’t gotten who all I’m trying to poke, it’s only because you’re not part of the place where I’m staying right now. So, to enlighten the ignorant [and logically the lucky – for having escaped the wrath of the demoniac pooping cats] among you about the latest problem in my life [ya, ya, I know I get obsessed with the pettiest of matters], here it is in simple words:

There’s a lady. She has a billi. No, not one actually, she has the daddy, mommy, three-four kittens, their grand dad, grand mom, aunt, uncle…the whole damn package. But every story should have a central character, right? So for this story, I’ll make this ‘one billi‘  the hero of my kahaani. And what does our hero do? He poops in a devil-may-care manner wherever he finds suitable. Now each member of this family tree poops, but I’m having so much trouble tracking one billi‘s poop that I’ll just pile it all up on our hero itself. Surprisingly, he never finds the lady’s room poop-worthy; I don’t know why. Is it because it is so damn yuck that makes even the pooper go pink with blushes? Or is it genuine respect for the lady and her personal space? Now that is one tough question I’ll leave you to ponder over.

Now, I’ve been staying here for a couple of years and dozens of students have come and gone past. But never did we see any woman. Me and my closest buddies always used to feel how barren this place was with respect to the factor of women. It felt like a jail of some kind, some sort of emotional torture. And when I used to see these pictures of my male friends back home cuddling all these women on social networking sites, it used to end up wondering where did it all go so wrong for me. It was in those desperate, wretched moments that an atheist like me used to pray to God and beg for a little mercy.

The Almighty finally heard my plea – and gifted me and my buddies with the lady. Little did we know that what was coming along was also an avalanche of poop. The first few days and months went nicely; everything was lovey-dovey. We flirted; the lady flirted back. We laughed; the lady laughed along with us. Life was a fairy tale. My faith in God slowly but finally began getting restored.

But the damn cats came along soon. The irony of this story is that the hero billi himself is the villain. Actually the lady didn’t bring them from outside, but they were adopted from the original Godfather of the cats, Mr. Apa, when he left about a year ago. Now, don’t even get me started where this bizarre name comes from – that can spawn a whole new story in itself. I don’t know what the Godfather Apa is up to these days, except I saw him roaming the hallowed corridors of my hostel a few days back with a nicely grown beard [looking much like a cat with whiskers himself].

As I was saying, the cats came along.

Now we are finally ready to embark upon the Adventures of the Lady and the Billi in the magical land of My Hostel. I have a lot to tell you, but I’ll just save it up for my next post. So, far I’ve established the history of the cats and this might seem an abrupt ending, but I guess you should also get used to billis and their antics like we guys did, isn’t it? I promise I’ll be back with a lot of s*** for you to read.

Till then, keep wondering what if the Lady had taught the cats to do ‘it’ this way –

The cat's gotta poop

I never would have come up with this story [:)]. It’s sad that cat lovers don’t have even this amount of common sense.

Maha Purush…the Indian “Super” “Man”

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on November 2, 2009

Not much to write here; I know the awesomeness of this video will render my writing about it totally worthless. Just see the video, and I know you too will agree.

After watching this, I hope you too will have developed a newfound respect for Govinda [like me]. No wonder he became a Lok Sabha MP [ = ‘Maha Purush’ again!] from Virar after the 2004 general elections.

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The God of all monkeys..

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on October 29, 2009

For a long time, I was in the search for the male version of Rakhi Sawant.

KRK Recently, Kamal Rashid Khan [left] and a certain ‘pretty’ designer Rohit Verma [right] came close to that after their ‘beautiful’ spat [believe me, its like watching Bruno on television when you see Mr. Verma] under Big Boss’s watch. You can watch that video here.

So was Chand Mohammed [below, right] on my list, the ex-vice-CM of Haryana who made a big tamasha of his pyaar for Fiza [next to him], but she clearly took away his thunder later by going on TV and speaking about her suicidal plans. ChanduMany guys, hunks and non-females came close to being numero uno on my list, but then, yesterday I found Guddu Rangila [below], the God of all these monkeys. Who could be better at that than apna babu, diamond singer, flamboyant Guddu Rangila? Watch him shake his hips in the video below [If you don’t understand the lyrics, never mind. I too didn’t understand. But the moron’s 7 min. act was completely worth it]. Just blew me away! Uski kamar kya hilaata hai! Aur uske leherate baalwah! wah!

baap hai yaar!

Apparently, this guy is some sort of Elvis of the Bhojpuri sangeet duniya and this song is very famous [for a regional language song, ~1,00,000 hits on youtube is no mean achievement]. Anybody got a spare mirror and a comb for our dashing dude?

Now, a vote of thanks to bhaiyaa for showing me this amazing piece of s***.

It’s guys like Guddu [duh, I’m thinking of calling my kid that now – imagine calling out to chotu Guddu while reading the newspaper in the morning] who’s ‘art’ makes my hopeless life worth living. Rock on, fatso!!

And for the guys who know who Swarnava is, I bet you’ll agree that there’s their faces have an uncanny resemblance.

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Hey, Paul Krugman!

Posted in Uncategorized by cready on October 28, 2009
paul krugman


I [and thousands of people the world over] read Paul Krugman’s NY Times column very religiously, and man, he makes sense. I don’t know how he manages to convince me of his viewpoint every time no matter how opposed I might be to what he’s saying. He’s undoubtedly the best critic there can be. But the obvious question which comes to the mind is, if this guy is so damn good at giving advice, why doesn’t he get involved in the action himself? After all, a guy who’s op-ed column influences opinion in the American Congress should ideally be a ‘fix-it’ guy at least for some part, right?

The song I’m embedding below perfectly echoes this very same sentiment in the ‘awesomest’ way possible. Very cool indeed. I know I’m a little late in discovering this video, but I’m sure if you’ve not seen it, you’ll like it too.


The lyrics –

Hey Paul Krugman,
Why aren’t you in the administration?
Is there some kind of politicking that I don’t understand?
I mean, Timothy Geithner is like some little weasel.
Wasn’t he in a position of power
when all this sh*t went down in the first place?

When I listen to you, things seem to make sense
When I listen to him, all I hear is blah, blah, blah.

Hey Paul Krugman,
where the hell are ya, man?
‘Cause we need you on the front lines
not just writing for
The New York Times.
I’d feel better if you were calling some shots
instead of writing your blog and probably thinking a lot.

I mean, don’t you have some influence?
Why aren’t you secretary of the Treasury?

For God’s sake, man, you won the Nobel Prize.
Timothy Geithner uses TurboTax.

When I listen to you, things seem to make sense.
When I listen to him, all I hear is blah, blah, blah.

Hey Paul Krugman, where the hell are ya, man?
(Obama Breakdown)

Sing it with me!

When I listen to you, things seem to make sense.
When I listen to him, all I hear is blah, blah, blah.

Hey Paul Krugman, where the hell are ya, man?
Your country needs you now.

And here’s Mr. Krugman’s reaction to the video –

The silence is palpable. Poor guy, I wonder what he must be thinking!

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