Monday, April 16, 2012

Title Suggestions, Anyone?


It was the night of Saturday the 14th. Yeah I know Friday the 13th is supposed to be the big deal and all, but I’m coming up with this new thing where Saturday the 14th will be the real thing.

So it was the 14th and not having any definite plans for the night, I called up my friend S. We used to be roomies once upon a time (read a little over 4 years ago). Then he had moved out, had lived abroad for a couple of years, had come back, got married. But somehow we had never met. We had planned to catch up on New Year’s Eve, but even that plan fell through.

I called him up and we decided to go to this upscale watering hole, but before that we planned to meet up at this low-scale place. Let me explain. Like every financially challenged Bangalorean who likes to go to swanky pubs, we too followed a plan whenever we wanted to get hammered. We would first go to a economically friendly place (read a cheap bar), down a few drinks, and then head off to the happening place, where we would be more than glad to settle with just a couple of drinks and a few eats.

We met around 8pm and after gulping 5 neat whiskeys, S said, “Let’s head to the other place. My wife will meet us there at 9.”
Me: “Errr...what?”
S: “At 9.”
Me: “You invited your wife?”
S: “Yes. Is it a problem?”
Me: “Of course it is! I’ve downed 3 drinks...”
S: “It’s 4 actually.”
Me: “Yeah exactly! I’ve downed 3 drinks and I can’t meet her now!”
S: “It’s ok buddy, she isn’t gonna judge you. I’ve myself had 4 drinks...”
Me: “It’s 5 actually.”
S: “Yeah exactly! I’ve had 4 drinks, and if I don’t have a problem meeting my wife after that, I don’t see any reason why you should.”

I grudgingly agreed. We reached there, and around 20 minutes later walked in Mrs.S. Now normally as a rule, I don’t letch at my friends’ girls. But this...I mean that...I mean she...was something different. It was very tough to not notice how ravishing she was. And then there was the added pressure of having a decent conversation with her, without being too apparent with the staring. But somehow I got through that (by focussing on the other pretty young things in the place of course).

As time passed, I realized she was not just about the looks, she was pretty cool too. She was getting my jokes and cracking up some good ones herself too. After a while, I excused myself and went to the loo, where I tried to convince myself that she was off limits by coming up with 10 reasons. I got only 5. They are:
1.    S will kill me.
2.    S will kill me.
3.    S will kill me.
4.    S will kill me.
5.    S will kill me.

That not having helped much, I stepped out of the loo and headed back to our booth. When I got there, I saw Mrs.S sitting there with a confused and nervous look on her face and S was nowhere to be seen.

“What happened? Where’s S?” I asked, and turned around to see where she was staring. S was involved in a scuffle with two guys. I immediately rushed over, and pulled them apart, and got one blow on my shoulder as part of the deal. One of the two was wearing a tee that shouted “PERFECTIONIST”.

“Meet me outside if you have the balls!” yelled the Perfectionist as he headed out with his friend.

Not knowing what was happening, I turned and looked at S, and realized he was already on his way out. Drunken brawl Rule 1: “When your friend gets into a fight, you get into it too”.

So off I followed after S. The three had already started exchanging blows. I pulled away the Perfectionist and punched him across the face.

Drunken brawl Rule 2: “You never hit a guy in the nuts, not unless you are outnumbered.”

I was prepared for a right handed-punch, but unfortunately he was a left-hander and I got one on my right cheek. Before I could reel from the after-effect of the punch, I got a low-power kick on my right thigh. I was finding it funny that this guy who looked pretty huge and all couldn’t come up with a decent kick. Before I could chuckle at the thought, I got a pretty strong kick on the right side of my stomach. Trust me; a left-hander kinda upsets the rhythm of the fight.

Finally I managed to take a swing back. I aimed for his nose, and hit bullseye. He went off balance clutching his nose, and sat down on the sidewalk. With one of them out of the equation, I headed off to S’s aid and pushed the non-perfectionist away from S. He was stunned and turned to see that his ally was already down. Realizing he was out-numbered, he immediately put up his hands saying, “Ok ok I give up”.

I was confused. Do we continue fighting, or is it over? I looked at S, who was still spewing anger. I put my hand across his shoulders and guided him back into the pub.

Drunken brawl Rule 3: “The winners always go back into the bar, the losers to the hospital, or home, or to their Mommas”.

We went back in and Mrs.S was relieved to see us with minimal injury. S had a bleeding lip and I had no outward sign of having been in a fight. S told her what happened. She hugged him and my “And I get nothing?” was met with a customary chuckle by all.

S went off to the loo to wash up. I ordered a repeat of my drink, and that’s when Mrs.S said, “Thanks”.

I looked at her and smiled. She leaned over and hugged me, and the 5 reasons that I had listed earlier on why she’s off limits went off like a fire alarm in my head!

PS: Did anyone notice that I never mentioned the reason for the fight? ;)

Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Transporter



He looked at his watch. He knew how much time he had. But it wasn’t entirely in his hands. “They” had to do it. He was just the transporter. He liked calling himself the transporter. True he wasn’t half as cool as Jason Statham, though he knew for sure that he had lot more hair than Statham could ever dream of. Well apparently they have these new hair transplantation thingies where you can grow your mane again. If Statham went for that, he would edge out this transporter in the only area where he was superior.

He looked at his watch again. Damn! It was almost time. What on earth were they doing? But he didn’t have the power or the authority to ask them anything. He was just the transporter. He got the package and was told the drop point. And he, well transported.

Another glance at the watch. Another sigh of exasperation. Are these people competing with a snail, he wondered. The recipients wouldn’t care whose fault it was. He can take the yelling, but what if they refuse to make the payment. The higher-up bosses will certainly catch his throat. No one would care enough to find out that he had got the package late!

Before he could sneak another look at the watch, they handed him the package. He rushed out. He had very little time left. He kick started his bike and raced away. There was a fair amount of traffic on the road. He expertly whizzed past it all. He knew he was riding faster than he normally is comfortable doing, but desperate times call for over-speeding. He chuckled at the quote he had come up with. “Desperate times call for over-speeding” was cool. Wonder if Statham could ever come up with something like that.

He realized he was almost there, as he looked at his watch. He took the last turn before his destination. Maybe he would make it just in the nick of time. That was the last thought that crossed his mind as he rammed into a parked van. He had taken his hand off the handle and his sight off the road to see the time, as he turned the corner, and had not seen the van parked there.

Less than 200 meters away, I looked at my watch. “Ok this is a first. It should have been here by now”, I thought. I picked up the phone, called them up, yelled, and within half an hour, was munching on my free pizza.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Who The @^*% Is Blunt Edges?


Recently I got a mail from someone who I presume had been at my blog, which read:

"Dear Blunt Edges,

Who the @^*% are you?

Regards,
X"

It was said in good humour, or wasn’t it?!?! We exchanged a couple of mails, and then I thought why not answer X here instead.

I’m a terrible blogger who surfaces once in a blue moon, and is unapologetic about it.

I’m not your guy next door, unless of course you’re actually my neighbour.

I’m the younger brother, who was jealous of his “better looking, better at sports, better at studies” elder brother his entire school life.

I’m the cricket fanatic who screamed his lungs out when India won the world cup.

I’m the guy who knows it’s not gonna be happily ever after with the love of his life, and has made his peace with it.

I’m the optimist who lives in the hope that the 2012 prophecy would be true.

I’m the guy who knows he’s definitely gonna get a dog one day and call it Kibber.

I’m the biker who gets pissed when someone calls his Avenger an Enticer, but beams when some kid in a rick at the signal points at it and shouts “Terminator ka bike”.

I’m the lazy ass who can hit the bed at midnight, sleep till 2 in the afternoon, and then start yawning around 4 in the evening.

I’m the IT guy who does zero exercise, even though he’s worried about the extra pounds he’s putting on.

I’m the sms addict who rarely sends out a text these days, coz his chat-friend isn’t in town anymore.

I’m the movie buff who still gets goose bumps when he’s watching Pulp Fiction.

I’m the reason Dominoes brought back the cheese burst pizza (or so I’d like to believe).

I’m the aspiring writer, who dreams of getting a call one day from some publisher asking him to write a book or some newspaper/magazine offering him a column (and a kick-ass pay of course!)

I’m the TV magnet who cringes at the sight of “reality shows”.

I’m the guy who was always approached by his friends in school to write love letters for their girls.

I’m the blogger who never finds the time or drive to blog, but suddenly gets tempted to do it, when something far more important demands attention.

I’m the guy who skips breakfast on most mornings for lack of company.

I’m also the guy who more than compensates for it during lunch and dinner.

I’m the bored reader who thinks I have just penned a load of crap.

I’m the employee who spends his week counting down to the weekend.

I’m the reason my Dad’s car has a major scratch on the rear left.

I’m the weirdo who hasn’t yet watched LOTR and Twilight for the simple reason that it didn’t appeal to him, and also the one who watched Avatar and Inception coz of all the hype and was bored within the first 30minutes.

In the words of the stupid common man, “Bheed toh dekhi hogi na aapne? Usme se koi ek shakal chun lijiye, main woh hu” ;)

I dunno if X would prefer this, or would just rather be content with my name and a link to my FB profile. Trust me buddy, you would never have got to know this much about me there.

PS: I’m also the blogger who hates seeing “0 comments” under his post! ;)



Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Time Travel


A promo of a recent movie screamed out “If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?” (Oh come on MS Word “would it” sounds more correct than “it would”!)

This got me thinking. What would I wanna change if I were to travel back in time? And then it struck me!

*Rewind to the time when Blunt was somewhere in the 3rd or 4th grade*
Li’l Blunt was playing cricket at the base of his building. Now there’s something you need to know about Li’l Blunt. Like majority of the children, who played cricket in India, he too hated fielding. Hand him a bat or a ball, and he’s the happiest guy around, but ask him to field and he gets all grumpy.

So there he stood all sulking and grumpy, when the batter hit a shot past him and he was expected to chase the ball, which of course had crossed the boundary line, but still had to be retrieved nevertheless.

“BLUNT!” The bowler had yelled the moment the ball was hit. Like every other bowler to have ever played the game, this one too didn’t like it when he was hit for runs and inadvertently found fault with the fielder or the pitch or the weather conditions or luck or the quality of the ball or …(you get the drift right?)
Bottom line: It’s never the bowler’s fault!

“Not again!” Li’l Blunt muttered under his breath as he ran behind the ball. And then he saw it. The ball had hit the door of a cab parked there. The cabbie was washing his vehicle and looked pissed. Now you must realize that kids of this age, playing near their buildings used to play with rubber balls, the kind that didn’t cause much harm when it hit a cab.

The cabbie had picked up the ball and was staring at Li’l Blunt, anger venting out profusely from his eyes.

“Sorry” Li’l Blunt said meekly as he reached near the cab.

Cabbie: “Why did you hit the ball on my cab?”

Li’l Blunt: “My friend hit it here. I’m just fielding.”

Cabbie: “Don’t give me answers, when I’m talking!”

Li’l Blunt: “But you just asked me a question.”

Cabbie: “Shut up!”

Li’l Blunt: “I’m sorry. Can I have the ball back?”

Cabbie: “It’s not your father’s cab, that you can just come, hit it and go!”

Li’l Blunt: “Why you dragging family into all this? I said I’m sorry!”

*Whack*

The cabbie slapped Li’l Blunt right across his tiny face.

Li’l Blunt (holding back his tears): “Why did you hit me? I wasn’t the one batting, I just came to fetch…” (His voice broke away as tears started finding their way out of his eyes)

Li’l Blunt’s friends had by then gathered around him and were pacifying him.
“It’s ok buddy. Let him keep the ball. We’ll go back” They said.

“BUT WHY DID HE HAVE TO SLAP ME?” Li’l Blunt yelled over his tears and looked at the cabbie with all the anger his little eyes could conjure up.

“DON’T YOU DARE STARE AT ME!” That was the last thing Li’l Blunt heard before another *Whack* sound blared into his ear. The cabbie had slapped him again. And Li’l Blunt was crying non-stop. His friends dragged him away as he howled uncontrollably.

“I’ll go right away and tell my Dad about this and he’ll come kick the cabbie’s ass” Li’l Blunt told his friends when they were at a safe distance from the cab and the monster who drove it.

“No no. It will just create more problems. Let it be Blunt. It’s alright. You’ll be fine.” They said.

And Li’l Blunt just kept crying.

*End of Flashback*

And for some reason, this incident stayed with me all these years. And if I could go back in time and change it, I might have wanted the ball to break the windshield of the cab, or ram into his nuts, or maybe both.

PS: Haven’t been around that much and don’t even have an excuse for the same. Just plain old laziness and boredom creeping in. And I know this ain’t the kind of stuff I normally write, but it’s been 5 months since I last posted, so obviously I would be a li’l rusty :)

Saturday, July 31, 2010

The Top Ten Blunt Edges' Pickup Lines That Never Work


1.       At a place of worship:
When she has her eyes closed and is in deep prayer, jump right in front of her and shout:
Ta da! Your prayers have been answered!

2.       At the movies (Watching a sob-fest):
When she lets her tear glands loose, put your arm around her and in comforting style say:
Though he is going away from her in the movie, I’m sure they are doing it off screen.

3.       At the movies (Watching a horror flick):
Shriek and cling on to her when a funny-looking ghost pops up on screen and don’t leave her for at least 5 minutes and keep asking:
Did it go? Did it go?

4.       In a lift:
When you are stuck in a lift and you happen to have a travel bag with you, open your bag, take out your spare underwear, put it on top of your pants, and wrap your towel around your neck like a cape and say:
Why fear when I’m here?
And then press the “HELP” button.

5.       At a bar:
You see her. She sees you. With a cool swagger, go up to her and ask:
Do you dance here?

6.       At a bar – 2:
You see her. She sees you. With a cool swagger, go up to her and ask:
Yikes! What is that smell? Is it you?

7.       At a bar – 3:
You see her. She sees you. With a cool swagger, go up to her and ask:
Seen any hot chick around?

8.       At a hospital:
Jump right in front of her and with a sigh of relief say:
Finally you decided to get the b**b job done ha?

9.       At a restaurant:
Seeing her at the opposite table with a group of friends on a binge night, get on your knees and act as if you are searching for something underneath your table and ensure you make enough of a scene that she, and better her entire group, notices.
Have your friend ask you: “What you looking for dude?
Your answer (as you turn to the girl gang): “A weighing machine. Anyone seen one lately?

10.      Anywhere, anytime:
I'm Blunt Edges’ friend."
Or better still.
I'm Blunt Edges."

PS: The idea and the title for this post came from a random comment by Grayquill a while ago. So even though it was a completely sarcastic remark by one of my most elderly friends, I still wanna thank him. So thank you Mr. Grayquill :P
PPS: I know I haven’t been active in the blogging world for some time now. I haven’t even been over at your blogs and I have like a million tags pending against me. I’ll surely try to catch up slowly. And a huge thanks to all those who kept enquiring where I had disappeared. It feels good to know people noticed  :D
PPPS: Wish all of you a very very happy Friendship Day :D
PPPPS: 115 followers? Unbelievably awesome! :D

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Gang War



Final year of college. A time when life is simple. A time when nothing worries you. A time when you command respect. A time when you are king of the world (er...if not the world, at least king of the college!)

Langda came home one day all furious and angry.
Idiot: “Wassup?”
Langda: ***Angry stare***
Idiot: “Some girl turned you down again?”
Langda: ***Angry stare***
Idiot: “Some professor yelled at you in class again?”
Langda: ***Angry stare***
Idiot: “You have attendance shortage again?”
Langda: ***Angry stare***
I and SG (Smart Guy) were watching this interesting episode unfold in front of us.
SG (to me): “Do you think we should tell Idiot to stop blabbering after Langda breaks his nose or before?”
Me: “You actually have doubts on that? After of course!”
Langda: “A first year guy challenged me to a fight and there were girls around when he did it.”
Me: ***Stifled laugh***
Idiot: “And what did you do?”
Langda: “I didn’t do anything. He was huge.”
Me: ***Another stifled laugh***
SG: “Boy this is embarrassing.”
Langda: “You don’t think I know that!”
SG: “I’m sure you know that. I was just trying to rub it in some more.”
Me: ***Bursts out laughing***

Langda made a plan to go the junior’s place at night and scare the living crap out of him. The script, screenplay and dialogues are all ready and put in place. All friends who have bikes and cars are called up to set up the ambience.

At exact 9pm, 5 bikes and 1 maruti 800 screeched to a halt in front of the junior’s place. Our roles were clearly defined. Langda, Idiot, SG and DrunkA were supposed to go and talk. The rest of us had to just keep on accelerating the bikes. In exactly ten minutes, I had to enter the scene and say the stupidest line of my life, “Hey guys make it fast. We need to go meet the Triggers at Kainos also.” (Triggers was a fictional “gang name” and Kainos was a pub nearby. I wasn’t even sure if they would get what we were trying to mean with “Triggers”, but then what the heck I was just an actor and all I could do was obey the director.)

And wait, I had some more stuff to do. My second line would be, “Which is the guy?”
SG would point out the guy to me and I’ll give him a threat-filled look in slow-motion from head to toe and back to head.

Sick, I know.

So we reached there at 9pm. We waited near the gate and the foursome went in. Idiot rang the bell and waited. Around 4-5 juniors lived there and we were 14 cool (apparently) people.

SG was supposed to give the opening line. The rest were to start after that. The junior opened the door and was flummoxed to see the crowd. Langda, Idiot and DrunkA were waiting for SG to start, but they didn’t hear a single word. They turned around to look at SG, who had held up a finger pointing at the junior, but no voice came out. Stage fright had gripped SG and he just couldn’t talk!

The entire effect created by the “gang” was wilting off. A smirk seemed to be appearing on the junior’s face. The remaining three weren’t prepared for this scenario. DrunkA realized it was time he came forward and took the initiative.

Fatak!

DrunkA slapped the junior right across the face. Everyone was stunned. This wasn’t planned. All the effect and more came back. The scene turned way grimmer than what we had anticipated. The rest of them said a few words and I thought its best to enter the scene and finish the whole drama.

“Hey guys make it fast. We need to go meet the Triggers at Kainos also,” I shouted.
 The guys came back and as planned I asked SG, “Which is the guy?”
 SG pointed at the junior.

I put on the coolest look in my armoury and nodded my head and looked at him from head to toe slowly and back up. And then I noticed him looking at me up and down with much more anger and humiliation venting out of his eyes, courtesy the slap.

“Damn!” I muttered under my breath as we left the place.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

A Visit Home and A New Lesson!


Every visit home teaches me some new stuff like the Pythagoras theorem, the theory of relativity and not to forget the Archimedes' principle. This time was no different. It thought me one lesson through different random incidents.

Scene 1:
I woke up the morning after I reached home. Mom got me my morning tea as I and Dad sat for a little Father-Son chat. It started off with an intellectual insight by Dad on the dinner prepared by Mom the previous night. I followed it up with a very thoughtful take on the dessert we had post-dinner. As Dad and I were peaking with one great point after the other, Mom called Dad for breakfast.
Both of us gladly hopped on for our first meal of the day. And when Mom saw me, she took me by surprise by asking the most unthinkable question: “Where are you off to?”
Me: “Eh? I thought you said its breakfast time.”
Mom: “Did you have your bath?”
Me: “Of course, I did.”
Mom: “Today?”
Me (sheepishly): “Err no. I didn’t realize you meant today.”
Mom (sarcastically): “Of course, you didn’t.”
Me: “Yeah big deal. I might as well have saved some water for the planet!”
Mom: “If that’s the case, you might just save some food for the planet as well. You know the rules here. No breakfast until you have your bath!”
Me: “Oh come on I’m not a kid anymore! Dad, see na.”
Suddenly Dad, who was listening intently and chuckling all this while, finds his breakfast interesting and starts staring at it as if he has to submit research papers on what constitutes his morning meal!
I let out a huge sigh and went for a bath.

Scene 2:
Lunch time at home. I had already downed what can only be described as the monthly food quota for an entire village. That’s when Mom leans to serve some more chicken on my plate.
Me (with a stuffed mouth): “No no, I’m full.”
Mom: “Are you kidding? What have you eaten till now?”
Unable to mouth anything (remember the stuffed mouth?), I just smile.
Mom: “You have lost your appetite.”
I smile some more.
Mom: “Here take some more chicken.”
I continue smiling, while Dad shakes his head.

Scene 3:
I and Dad are arguing about some very trivial issue. Now this is a very common occurrence. My visits home are incomplete without the mandatory argument with Dad.
This time it was about an IPL match. The situation heated up and decibels were raised. Mom sat between us playing solitaire on the iPod. I supported my claim with point by point analysis and live examples. I got Dad in a corner and almost literally shredded his stand and that’s when Dad took out his most lethal weapon: the veto power that all the Dads in the world seem to be born with.
He just walked off saying, “You are just talking nonsense! I don’t want to hear any more of this!”
I was left stranded there with a confused look on my face, while Mom gave out a smug smile, even as she continued playing solitaire.

So what’s the lesson I learnt from this visit home? “Some things never change!”

PS: Did you notice the new blog header? How’s it? It’s a gift from a very very sweet blogger friend for Blunt Edges’ second birthday. The said friend (yeah I have been sworn to secrecy) has sent me 11 blog headers and it’s very tough to choose a favourite, so I just randomly selected one and put it up. A huge thanks to the wonderful friend :D