AN OPEN LETTER TO SUNNY DEOL

Hello paaji,

I want to tell you how pissed off I am with the people who keep bickering over how Hollywood has got lots of superheroes and India has got nothing (except a masked long jump athlete in KKrish). I get filled with red hot rage when these sick people adore people like John Travolta, Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwargeneggar but on the other hand, ignore you. They forget that all the above mentioned action-heroes use lots of skills and technology to beat the asses of those baddies while you… you just do all of them with raw power.

There is this one thing that I like about your movies, I don’t have to bite my nails during a fight sequence thinking about whether the villain could kill you. I always know that somehow, at the end, you will manage to pound over the villains and guess what, you have never let me down. During those scenes I just pray for those poor fellows who dare to piss you off.

After Rajnikanth, if there is a man who can beat the shit out of those scoundrels, no matter how many in numbers they are, he has to be you.  I just get flabbergasted when you swing your hefty limbs and place those crooks in mid air. Plus, I am amazed by your undying spirit, I mean, in spite of having some 10 odd bullets inserted inside you, walking unsteadily, getting off balance, how you chase down the murderer of your kin or in some cases the guys who have pissed off the Indian in you, kill them in one swing of your withered arm, cremate your family, marry your only left sister to a nice guy, give them blessings and when it’s all done, then only, you  think of dying. I’d like to urge all the genetic  studies  scientists to study your genes as those genes might become the key to the immortality or if not, then at least they can be used to place supernatural immunity system in people, after some manipulations.

If you listen to me, I promise we may bring out a revolution in India. Here is what I’ve got to say. You can join the Indian National Army. Our enemies sitting beyond LOC very well know that they are going to shit their pants if this happens. They have still not recovered from the jolts that your deafening roars and your gymnastics over that moving train in their own country gave them in GADAR. They haven’t been still able to fix up that hand pump that you pulled off the ground and as it seems that they are not going to have enough luck in future too. Your joining the army would not only bring their morale down but also they won’t be having sufficient artillery and ammunition to gun you down. In case, they somehow pull this off, then also they know half of their troops are going down anyway as they have seen how bad you can be being wounded, with automatic guns in both hands and hand grenades in your pockets and hollering at a deafening pitch, Not to forget the above described immortal instincts. Man, they’ve got no chances.

Girls who get troubled with eve teasing should wear lockets having your photographs on them. They’d   just flash your photograph to these idiots and that alone would leave them paralyzed. That way the scoundrels know that God has sent his man on earth and now the girls are not at their mercy after all. Now this trick can be repeated with all sorts of problems that we face because of criminals.

Now we come to THE THING. The revolution I was talking about can be brought to life only if you think of donating your sperms. I mean, all that India needs to get rid of the problems that it is facing from within or outside the country, is having multiple Sunny Deols. Only your sperms should be used in procedures like artificial insemination so that we can produce more and more Sunny Deols for the welfare of this country. I would say this should be made mandatory. If possible, convince Rajnikanth too , to donate. I am cent percent sure this’ll turn out to be THE WAY OUT.

I hope you may take some time out of your already empty schedule and would consider my suggestions.

Your admirer

DementedSage

CAUTION: Those mothers who are interested in artificial insemination and want their child to have at least ordinary dancing sense then please ..i insist ..ignore Sunny Deol’s sperms.  Don’t believe me..have a look…

  

A day in Delhi Metro

Ask any Delhiite about that one recent change that has affected them most, reply has to be Delhi Metro (except if the guy happens to be a homosexual). With its sprawling wings, Metro is now set to rail over the entire city. Having said that, there are few things that every metro commuter experiences. Here I am, discussing few of them; A jaunt in metro, through my eyes.

Not gasconading about the vivid description of security checks again (last article. Here the only difference is that those hands belong to a constable), here, I would like to, just skip it and move on. After reaching the crowded platform I wait for the train. After a while as it arrives into the station, I can palpate the cumulative leaning-attention of public that it holds. The train stops and doors open. I intend to follow the cliché metro etiquette which expects us to first let out-bound passengers move but as I come to my senses, I realize, I am the only one standing outside the train. Through my gate, no one came out. I enter into the train.

Here is a description of what I see inside. There is a guy beside me boasting a french beard, pony tail , I-pod in hand, beads in ears, eyes closed, often jerking his head trying to match the beats. There is a couple. The guy holds the overhead bar while his girl, to hold on to something, keeps her hands in his jeans pockets. Lost in their own world, often mumbling into each other’s ears, so oblivious are they to the attention they are getting from an uncle who is keenly watching them and trying to eavesdrop. The guy says something funny to his girl, almost instantly the girl responds with a laugh and ‘dilruba-bobby-darling-esque’ slap on his shoulder. Apparently, uncle too manages to get the joke. He is smiling. Then randomly, the couple looks around and becomes aware of this interested companion. They see him and instantly their smiles contract. Now the couple is feeling conscious of  people around them.

On the seat behind me, there is a guy who is working on his laptop. He seems busy and tense. May be, he has to meet an imminent deadline. Suddenly, for the third time in the last two minutes, his phone vibrates. It is his girlfriend. Everybody around knows this, thanks to the previous calls. He is irritated now and rudely tells her that he is busy and will call back. He cuts the line. He looks upset. People around are smiling again.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates. It is a friend who wants to know a particular cheat code for GTA. After dealing with him, as I deposit back the phone into the pocket, I hear a hassle coming from the other side. A middle aged aunty is bickering over the famous ladies’ seat.

 “This is a laideej seat..don’t you understand??”

 A guy in his early twenty is the centre of attention. He tries to ignore auntyji.

 “A laideej of your mother’s age is standing in front of you, and you still are not moving??”

The guy still remains silent but rock solid on his seat.

” Today’s kids just don’t have any manners. You don’t care to respect elders. Gharvalo ne kuch sikhaya nahi hai kya??  Sikhayenge kya unhe khud nhi aata hoga kuch, aata hota to tum aise behave nai karte??“  

Now the guy looks up. He seems offended. Auntyji’s last blow was nasty. A man who is sitting with the guy tells him that he should have offered her the seat, she is an old woman after all. On this, the guy seems irritated and gives this man a ‘if–you-are-so-concerned-why-the-hell-are-you-still-sitting’ look and then just takes a deep breath and stands up. Auntyji won. Now auntyji is sitting on the controversial seat  and look, she is smiling now. Apparently, praising herself for the ‘seat-fetching’ skill she has mastered over the years.

Now I look through the window to know my exact whereabouts. There is still time for my station. I notice a group of friends (4 girls and 3 boys) chirping pretty dissonantly. They seem to be pretty excited. May be, going to hang out somewhere. They are planning what all they are going to do today. Everybody is joyous and giving suggestions. I understand. Friends make you forget your miseries. I start thinking about my friends and life but soon get interrupted as a family enters. They seem to be economically weak, superficially, have around six kids. They appear to demonstrate all the stages in a child’s growth through these kids. The leading man is clad with sunglasses. Though, I do not feel that ambience is that glary inside. He takes his kin to the juncture of two coaches and orders each one of them to sit on the ground. The family follows. But one rebellious but tiny child stands up and goes to the nearest pole. He now, is twisting himself around the pole, and see now he is running around it. He has done almost everything that is possible with a pole. ( no, sorry, not everything!! ) . This happens for around five minutes or so. Now the child is bored. He goes back to his family and sits with them on the floor. He is silent now.

Now it has started getting crowded in here. It will keep getting even more herded till Rajeev Chowk where I am going to de-board the train. Still four stations to go. I wait. I look around to check if something interesting is going on but unlucky this time. So, I take out my phone and start re-reading my messages to kill time.

The train is now going underground. I meanwhile prepare myself for some wrestling. All the people have become biased towards the exit gate side of the train. Everyone wants to leave first. I hate these clusterfuck situations. Train stops. Outside, there is an enormous crowd waiting to barge in. Gates open finally. The clusterfuck is in full swing now. Everybody inside wants to go outside at that very moment and everyone outside wants to make it first inside and grab a seat before it smooches someone else’s ass. It sets an impasse for some time until people self-realize what is needed to be done. Sense prevails at last. People make two lanes out of the gate. Finally things start moving. After coming out of the gate I take some deep breadths in. Feeling relieved, now I check for my phone and wallet. Ohh WTF?? Where is my phone?? My heart skips a beat. Not again…ohh. here it is. Thank God!

Now I am coming out of the station. A peculiar feeling is still lingering around as if my clothes have been scrapped off completely from one side while coming out of the train. Out of friction, may be, I reason.


picture courtesy : http://www.Hotgurgaon.com