humour, science

An Egg, 1000 year old

The first thought that came to my mind, when I read about it is, ‘Would the chick hatched out of a thousand year egg be 1000 year old?’ Such profound thoughts do cross my mind, once in a while.

Recently the Israel Antiquities Authority discovered a fully intact egg from 1000 years ago during excavation at a town named Yavne. But how did it manage this era defining journey of 1000 years. Did it travel by a time machine? Well, there was no such adventure. The archeologists say that the reason for it being so perfectly preserved is that it had made a soft landing. It was pillowed in soft human poop inside a 1000 year cesspit. How it managed to end up there, in the first place, is not yet known.

Surprisingly they were also able to recover some yolk, which has been preserved for DNA analysis in future. I can imagine some chicks and cocks flaring their feathers in anticipation of their unborn ancestor. The human cesspit does have its uses, though a trifle smelly.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Videographically yours

In today’s time of constant exposure to the social media, the making of pre-wedding videos at most of the picnic spots around town is trending.

Whenever I visit a lake in our vicinity, I happen to encounter atleast one such photographer and his client couple. While I hope to see pristine nature at the lake, my senses are assaulted by these over-enthusiastic photographers. Okay, if they just click the photos and get the dirty deed done with and vamoose from the spot, it would still have been okay. But they want to assault the early morning walkers, joggers and pranayam enthusiasts with the most acrobatic pyrotechnics.

One such client couple had come dressed in their best Western wear, the girl in a flowing gown while the guy was in a suit. Now, since she had worn a flowing gown she had brought along her friend to hold and manage it. Mind you, this is the hardest job, for the gown has to be kept away from the morning job of some random dog, in addition to ensuring that the would-be bride doesn’t trip on its flowing folds. The would-be bride was also most conscious of her makeup, her dress and her appearance. Running her hand through her hair and adjusting her dress, she needed her friend’s continuous barrage of words of support and encouragement.

The guy in suit knew who was the center of attention and watched his would-be wife with a blank expression. 

The photographer, on the other hand, was enthusiasm personified. With the continuous contortions of his body to capture the best shots, I don’t think he would need to join a gym or do yoga to keep himself fit. Sometimes he went on his haunches while sometimes he lay flat on his stomach while holding the camera near his eyes.

Another trend is for would-be mothers to get their videos done. For such videos, various props are very important and the photographers use the most ridiculous ones. Baby clothes are one such. Then there are the toys, dolls,  etc. Once I saw a would-be mother displaying baby shoes near her face, which was tilted at angle.

So friends, those who are at that stage in life, what are your plans? Do share your thoughts.

Yatindra Tawde

book review, humour

Vellagiri on FB – A book review

Book title – Vellagiri on FB

Author – Krishnan Seshan Iyer
Publisher – StoryMirror Infotech Pvt. LTD.
No. Of pages – 150

‘Expect the unexpected’ when you pick up this book because it is unlike any other. There are no short stories, it is not a novel nor is it a serious commentary. Instead it’s ‘Vellagiri’.

Now what is ‘Vellagiri’ someone may ask. It is a totally Mumbai lingo which the author has used so innovatively in his book title. ‘Vella’ comes from ‘Velle’ which is used for people wasting time, doing nothing. So, ‘Vellagiri’ is a tongue in cheek reference to the author sharing his treasure trove of quotable quotes on FB to the benefit of his immense friend circle. And now we, the mango people, can equally enjoy the fun.

Now, why do I say it is a treasure trove of quotable quotes? Well, for that, open this book and start reading.

Whoever said only famous personalities are capable of quotable quotes have not met the author, Krishnan Seshan Iyer. His quotes arise from his intrinsic scathing sense of humour and a sharp mind honed over the years in the Corporate law field. He is blessed with an ability to critique and capable of giving ‘Jor ka jhatka, dheere se…’ and sometimes not so ‘dheere se’ at all. You may not necessarily agree with him, but please do enjoy the sarcastic humour while you are at it.

And for those who cannot do without FB, here’s a quotable quote from the book, ‘I just realized that MZ is my wife – keeps reminding me of things I said a few years back!’

So guys and gals, go for this book. Let me assure you, you won’t be disappointed.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

The Mask

Why the hullabaloo over a mask, someone may ask. Well, since it has become such an intrinsic part of our lives there’s no option.

Thus, mask manufacturing is an industry in itself. Like every product manufacturing industry it is very important to know the user or consumer profile to design masks.

I also tried to study the user profile and here are my findings –

The warrior – he/she is totally committed to avoid spreading the virus and protecting himself from the virus. He is a warrior because he fights against the virus by following the proper precautions. He is also a warrior because he will not think twice before disciplining others who fall short in following the precautions. He will shout or argue against such irresponsible people whose masks have slipped a bit. He will point to the lowered mask with his finger and with the slightest of upward movement, ask them to place it properly on there nose.

Flaring nostrils – he tries to follow the precautions but his mask keeps slipping from his nose while just managing to maintain its position on his mouth. He has not yet got used to having his nose covered due to suffocation.

Chin music – he is in majority and many times his mask gets mistaken for facial fuzz (I am talking only about ‘he’ here). He is committed to protecting his chin from the viruses which might find a way into his body through the skin pores. His nose and mouth are relatively virus resistant, or that’s the impression he creates.

Neckers – as you must have deduced by this time, the consumers are getting labelled as per the lowering position of the mask. Thus he/she flaunts the mask on the neck while pulling forward their ears. So they appear like ear-pulled rabbits. These are the next in majority.

Hookers – don’t misunderstand, these are the people whose masks hang precariously from one of their ears which act like hooks. These hookers increase the blood pressure of the warriors precariously.

Nudists – these will flaunt their nostrils and lips in full public view most shamelessly without a care in the world.

Jokers – they will wear the most outrageous masks, sometimes shaped like animal heads and sometimes painted with cartoon lips bringing a smile to spectator lips which are themselves hidden behind masks.

Fashionistas – these are mostly the better half kind though not necessarily. The masks always match their clothes and such masks are most innovatively designed ranging from saree type masks in Paithani, Kanjeevaram, et all to diamond encrusted masks for the elites. To cater to such connoisseurs of masks, entire showrooms have come up in almost all towns.

So Guys and Gals, which consumer profile do you belong to?

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Marriages or…mirages

First posted on #ArtoonsInn

The enticing aroma of coffee wafted across CCD, as l lost myself in the dreamy eyes of my wife, Priya. The hint of a smile curling her face was too alluring as i reached for her soft palms to take them in mine. 

Just then our order arrived and we untangled our hands in a hurry. As i  reached for the egg wrap, Priya rapped me on my knuckles. She picked up the egg wrap and lovingly extended her hand towards my mouth. Closing my eyes, I elongated my neck, imagining the egg melting in my mouth when…

“What are you doing, Rohit? Pay attention! I am already late for the office. Rotate the chapaati properly on the tava. It should nicely fill up with air, otherwise it will harden by lunch time”, she admonished.

As usual, I was day dreaming, mistaking a chappati being transferred on to the skillet, with an egg wrap being deposited into my mouth. And as usual the bai making the morning chappatis had taken a ‘sick’ leave leaving us with no other option. 

It was a nice and fluffy bed with soft pillows filled with feathers. A giggling, bubbling Priya started a pillow fight with me. She picked up the soft pillow and like a lithe shot putter, flung it at me…I grabbed at it and promptly deposited my shirt…yes, my shirt into the washing tub. 

Was I caught day dreaming again? “Rohit! I think there are 12 clothes. Take a spoonful of washing powder, it should be enough.”

“Hoy, Maharani!”, I said in jest. In reply, she threw another shirt at me to dip in the frothing tub.

Yes, i am sure you must have gathered by now that I love helping my wife in domestic duties. Or rather, the options have run out.

It wasn’t always so. 

When I was but a child, watching the weekly movie at the neighbour’s, I was enamoured by the love life of a film hero, who broke into a boisterous song or two, on spotting the cycle riding, shyly smiling heroine, always accompanied by a gaggle of giggling friends.

When they managed to get rid of those irritating friends, they ended up in a flower garden, dancing and running around umpteenth trees. I could never understand how two neighbouring flowers managed to caress each other whenever the hero,with a silly smile pasted on his face, got anywhere near the heroine.

After facing many childish obstacles, when they finally pranced hand in hand towards the sunset, the child in me was flushed with joy. That night, I used to dream of myself in the hero’s shoes. 

But the lie was exposed, and how. After the initial passionate flush of married life, I finally understood that a marriage is built from the building blocks of daily chores and mutual understanding to achieve those necessary tasks to keep the marriage engine running.

There! I have spoilt the romantic notions of a few unmarried individuals.

humour

A ‘fart’ful life

The useful farts

In your childhood you indulged in them shamelessly and obnoxiously, without a care in the world. Some naughty friends held competitions; who managed it the loudest, with various permutations and combinations. 

As you grew older you learnt to hold them in, as society pressure overwhelmed all other pressures of the internal kind. However you weren’t always successfu, as they found escape velocity. If they didn’t make a noise, they announced themselves with a degree of pungency, leaving you with no place to hide. 

If there were more than two people in the room, at least you could put it on the next person. But all suffered equally though the originator suffered the least. Because he knew where it came from.

The generator was always ridiculed and the habitual one was derided and scorned at. The only safe place was his home, and the better half complained futilely. She had to bear the brunt of a few smelly, loud ones.

But guys, you no longer need to hide. Because research has proven that farts are good for your health. Now you can proudly do the needful as they help avoid cell inflammation making them live longer.

Hydrogen sulphide, that foul smelling fart gas, is naturally produced in the body, which could be a healthcare hero having significant implications in future therapies for a variety of diseases; or so says the research.

Of course, farts don’t cure cancer but are certainly good for your overall health.

So the next time, the wife complains, let her know this secret of your long, smelly life. 

Which proves that, not all research is useless. Sometimes it does throw up some funny, loud and smelly surprises. (But who thought of doing this study in the first place…)

Yatindra Tawde

Fiction, humour

Rattled

First posted on #ArtoonsInn…

The clock struck twelve. The repeated hammering of the ancient gong dislogded timid Tony from his hiding place in the clock and in his hurry, he fell right into the path of Mrs. Batliwala. She screamed in terror, let go of the bone china bowl of hot soup and gave out a blood curdling scream. 

The shrill scream reverberated in Tony’s ears and he tried to scamper away and found the nearest dark recess to hide himself. Unfortunately it turned out to be the ample pyjamas of old Mr. Batliwala who jumped up from the rocking chair in fright. The beer glass toppled over, Mr. Batliwala pushed against the wooden table and lost his balance. As he fell backwards, Tony struggled to break free of the pyjamas and just managed to avoid getting squashed under the ample bottom of Mr. Batliwala.

Timid Tony rushed to his hideout, the drainage pipe just outside the verandah of the Batliwala’s. This part of the neighborhood was the haunt of Dirty Purry, the evil feline. But the noon wasn’t the bread earning hour of Dirty Purry, hence Tony was safe for now. Safe with his family, whom he had settled inside.

“What did you get for lunch, you good for nothing fellow?”, screamed a shrewish Mrs. Tony.

“I…I…I…” squeaked poor Tony.

“What I…I…I… you are just not cut out for the man race. My parents ruined my life by marrying me off to a nincompoop like you. And me…how the hell did I fall for your sqeaky clean image?” She continued to stare at her husband scornfully.

“Learn something from your brother, Rancid Ronny. Such a foul smelling fellow living in the old neighborhood of the gutters. But see, he hasn’t failed to feed his equally caustic wife, Rita during his entire lifetime.” Mrs. Tony was in a belligerent mood tonight.

“And look at you. No capacity to get some cheese in the pipe but can’t control the carnal urges! Who the hell will feed these 21 twintuplets?”

As if on cue, all the twintuplets started singing a high pitched song of hunger. “Squee…squee”, they cried out in unison.

Unable to bear it any longer, Tony pressed his ears with his forelimbs, then held his head while closing his eyes tightly.

“Yes, I knew that. You will now feign depression. Don’t you know, the great Woman says that there is no such thing as depression. Mental health issues are all hocus-pocus. Everyone wants to run their own shop and so do you.

“Here, take this bamboo strip and discipline your hyperactive brood. While I go out and do what is needed to feed them”. Mrs. Tony was quite egoistic about her ability to subdue her hubby and provide for the family.

Tony watched her retreating form and heaved a sign of relief. Once she was out of sight, he jiggled his tiny bottom and stretched out beside his brood of twintuplets.

Soon, he was assured of something to eat.

humour

Superpowered life

First written on @#ArtoonsInn…

I woke up one day and was zapped that my left eye was fluttering. Mind you, it was just the left eye and the right one was blinking like usual. Suddenly I remembered my guru.

My guru, Shri Baburao, snorted hard through his one nostril while jamming shut the other one, his snot flying through the air towards me. Me, being his ardent devotee, had ungrudgingly accepted the divine gift and let it fall on my palms and eagerly waited for his blessings. He had blessed me with his divine vision and declared that the day I wake up with my left eye fluttering, I would have a superpower whose nature I would discover during the course of time.

So here I was, with my fluttering left eye, trying to understand my superpower. But first, as advised by Shri Baburao, I rushed to the cupboard to dress myself in red track pants and brown baniyan for that was to be my attire from now on. And though apprehensive, I followed his next advice to a Tee. I fished out my blue underwear and wore it over the track pants and observed myself from all angles in the mirror. To my horror, I found that the underwear was torn on the backside. Though this mishap was invisible to others with my normal clothing in public, I was dead sure that it would not be socially acceptable with my current attire. With a heavy heart, I made the unfortunate decision to replace the blue one with a yellow one, thus deviating from my Guru’s strict decree.

Now I was ready to face the world. But before that, I wanted to check the effect of my superpower on my cat, Priyamvada, who was sleeping in the hall.

I stepped into the hall. Priyamvada was having his bath cum yoga, but as soon as he saw me, he froze, with his bristled tongue hanging out. In the next moment, he bounced with his hair standing on end, and as soon as he landed back on the floor, he gave out a blood curdling combination of screeches and yowls and flew out of the window. I had been told that animals detect things which are beyond the understanding of mere mortals and Priyamvada’s robust reaction assured me about my superpower. So I decided to step out and opened my apartment door.

Old Mrs. Municipaltiwala coincidently had the same idea and we opened the respective doors simultaneously.

“Dikra, what happened to Priyam…”, but before she could continue, her eyes took in my divine, cosmic sight. Overcome with ecstasy, she swooned to the floor.

That gave me much confidence to face the world and I entered the lift. I did reflect on directly jumping out of the window due to my superpower but hesitated. Though Priyamvada and Mrs. Municipaltiwala had given the right vibes, I thought of taking careful steps into my superpowered life.

Afterall, I am quite a sorted person.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

Population control

From the title, you would think I am going to sermonize. But I have not joined any administrative service so why should I? Neither have I a target for sterilization.

After sterilizing his own species to control population explosion and then using this weapon to sterilize his pets, man was itching to apply this birth control method on sundry species on the planet. So a search started for the most dangerous pests.

And which other species is dangerous as well as a pain in the neck for the humans? The tiny mosquito, of course!

In addition to stinging on all areas of the body, this pest has a tendency to buzz around the human ears, that too, in the dead of the night, acting like an alarm clock.

And finally today, it made it to the news.

The final frontier has been crossed. A protein has been found. And also a way to block the protein has been found too.

Apparently it works like this. With whatever chemicals the scientists work with, a protein is blocked and this results in faulty eggs in which the mosquito embryo does not develop. And more than that, the female mosquito is rendered unable to concieve again in her three week life.

So is it possible that in a few years there won’t be any mosquitoes left on Earth?

I think not, the mosquitoes might turn into a Super Bug.

Yatindra Tawde

humour

The Monks who brew

In ancient India, Soma was the preferred drink of the Devas and the Asuras. They fought a lot of wars for possessing this valued drink. It was so popular that it is praised in many hymns in the Vedas. 

Not much is known now about its manufacturing process however it is thought that it was made from some hallucinogenic Himalayan plant. The supreme Indra is said to have enjoyed drinking Soma to his heart’s content. 

It is not known whether the Rishis made it or someone else but now that knowledge is lost, maybe for ever.

But not to worry as in today’s world, the monks have taken to brewing beer and this beer is for the common man like you and me. 

Yes! 

These Belgian monks have been brewing, what is known as Trappist beer but they have certain rules for their customers. The customers cannot resell the beer; it is for their own consumption. 

The monks have a well defined process of selling their beer. People can order by phone and can collect a maximum of two crates in person. But due to its limited availability this beer is comparatively expensive. 

Precisely the reason why it piqued the interest of middlemen. They saw cool profits by selling it in the black market. Or to make it a part of legitimate business. Just like a famous Dutch supermarket did, by selling it at inflated prices. And they had been able to stock a staggering 7200 bottles! How? How was a company able to buy in such volumes?

This question caused them sleepless nights and they had to take steps to overcome this commercialisation of their non-profit venture, which was meant to cover the annual costs of running their abbey.

So they have stopped phone bookings and turned to a more efficient and customer friendly online reservation system. Under this system the customers will have to give their Aadhar card details, or rather, their address and car number, as they stay in Europe. And a single buy will be limited to two crates of beer for a period of 60 days. Priority will be to those who have waited the most since their last purchase.

And no, the Trappist beer is not expected to be sold in the near future in India. We don’t have any Belgian monks… otherwise I was already imagining a few Indians reading this, sharpening their Aadhar Cards for booking a crate or two and swiping their credit cards.

Yatindra Tawde