Guys shouting 1 2 3 4 Push 

Climax of Salaam Namaste or a couch stuck in between the walls of the stairs at 51 Crittenden.

1. Grate carrots such that you get 3 cups of grated carrots.

2. In a big pan, heat some ghee and fry the grated carrot for about a minute.

3. Add 3 cups of milk and keep stirring at medium heat.

4. When the milk starts to boil, add 1.5 cups of sugar and continue stirring.

5. After 10 minutes of stirring, taste it once. You will find that there isn’t enough sugar. Add another half a cup of sugar and continue stirring.

6. After 10 more minutes of stirring, strain all the milk into a container and leave the residue aside.

7. Let the milk cool down and then place the container in the freezer.

The frozen stuff is now your Gajar ka Kulfi. Recipe serves two. [caption id=“attachment_210” align=“alignnone” width=“269” caption=“Gajar ka Kulfi”][/caption]

Since we believe in recycling, the residue needn’t be thrown away. Fry some cashews and raisins in ghee and mix it with the residue. Some people may like it as a sweet and call it Gajar ka Halwa. Recipe serves four.[caption id=“attachment_211” align=“alignnone” width=“300” caption=“Gajar ka Halwa”][/caption]

Special Inputs : Chef Goud.

I am back.

Mr Chambers, a state senator for 38 years, said he filed the suit to make the point that “anyone can sue anyone else, even God”. 

I believe Satan has the lawyers, but God still seems to have the judges and so He has got the case dismissed.

What next I say!

It is advisable that one uses the Fevi Kwik Rs.5 pack judiciously. I will now qualify one such aspect of care.

It so happens that it comes with a cap for re-use. You use it once and put on the cap. A few days later, you pick it up again to glue something else. The cap opens, but the hole at the top is covered up with the hardened glue. There are umpteen options available to make it usable. 

It so happens, that I chose to open it, by biting on the hardened glue. Spurted out did the remaining glue into my mouth, causing my tongue to stick with itself in folds , my tongue to stick to the teeth of the lower jaw, my teeth of the upper jaw to stick with the teeth of the lower jaw and my teeth of the lower jaw to inner side of my right cheek inside the mouth. 

Instant panic allowed me to untwine my tongue and detach it from the teeth followed by separation of the now seemingly conjoined jaws and then the mouth. After a good 10 minutes of scratching my teeth and tongue with a screw driver, I had my mouth in a better shape than before and was able to talk. There is still some of it stuck to my premolars, but that is left to be fought with another day.

So now you know the moral of this story. 

And by the way, this is not the worst I have put my mouth to trouble. A couple of years back, I gargled and mouthwashed with Dettol. Strong after taste you know. May be you can try. So strong, for the next 3 months, I could not taste anything I ate. True Story, Akshay, True Story.

I intend to sue Microsoft ( Windows Vista), Apple ( Safari ) , Dell ( Vostro 1400) and most importantly Wordpress, for not telling me that blog post drafts cannot be saved while not being connected to the internet.

Moral of Another Story :

Use Notepad. Always.

Prologue : This blog does not care for the feelings of Thalimpu Reddy. This is my version of a story that had been told to me and many others, in the first person. This post is purely, a practice of vendetta against him as I have had to bear the brunt of his TRIES in this nation. I have already done enough to shut him up with due help from extremely disgruntled and cooperating friends in the town of Gainesville. But then after all, Yeh Dil Maange More.

There was a time when Thalimpu Reddy went by one of the common names of a Hindu God, whose IUPAC equivalent is the Sun. This is a story of the times when our Thalimpu Reddy, was in school. He was, as he is now, very much pretending to be the goody goody boy. He was , as he is now, failing miserably at that. Well, almost. Because there was one person, who felt otherwise. That person bought his story.

Considering the frailties of the anachronistic memory of the author, this story can be dated to the season of 2000-01 with a tolerance of one year towards negative time. This was the time when our hero used to go to school with his cousins. It so happened, that none in his class bought his theory of goodygoodyness, but as it so often happens, he was proposing it to the wrong audience. In his cousin’s class, there was this innocent dame, who got enthralled by this theory and got deeply involved with it. Her mind started weaving stories ( just like this one ), and started taking genuine interest in Thalimpu Reddy. But then again, which gullible female, who ended up having a good opinion about him, would not want a tall, dark and handsome hunk to be her knight in shining armour.

And so started the series of short sightings. Short, since the boundaries of classrooms was becoming a serious barrier for her. She could not get to see him for much of the time in school. Our hero, even went off home for lunch, which seriously reduced her chances. But this girl was very determined and made every effort to see him. Mind you, there wasn’t any talking as yet. Ah the pleasures and pains of teenage love! One sight of the beloved and the heart fills with joy. Her only way of getting in contact with him was his cousin in her class and use that way she did. Our hero, too involved in getting more believers to bite into his theory, was totally oblivious to all of this. Why? Well, we all know why.

These mini meetings and small talk was not getting her anywhere. She for one, wanted to pour her heart to him, but couldn’t. From all that she had learned Children’s Knowledge Bank Volumes 1 - 6, Bollywood songs and Tollywood movies, it was very clear to her that he was expected to start the confession/ proposal. She took her time, tried every little way possible, to let him be aware of her feelings without actually doing it. But, it was Thalimpu Reddy, and for people who know him well it is common knowledge that there are certain things even when directly told, with absolutely no allusions , still do not attract his attention ( further stories on this in the very distant future ).

There came a day, when she decided that she couldn’t hold it any more and that she had to express her feelings. She decided upon penning a letter, as she knew she would not be able to face him and tell it. Fair play I say. The letter reached our hero via the obvious postperson, the cousin.

It is every schoolboy’s dream that he have a beautiful girl as his girlfriend. Not so much for the possible love, care , attention and the related melodramatic crap. No. That never matters does it. It is for the sheer pleasure of “Neighbour’s Envy. Owner’s Pride”.

Got sidetracked there a bit. Yeah , our hero got the letter. Thrilled to bits was he? No.Since he was the prophet of goodygoodyness, he decided that he was not part of the every schoolboy clan described in the previous paragraph. He was scared as hell. He saw this as a possible blot on his theory and that this could seriously damage his ( non-existent ) good boy image. She was seeing this as a lifelong commitment. He was seeing this as a battle. He sent message through emissaries( who else but the cousins ) and called for a meeting.

So on one fateful evening after school hours, the meeting began. For her, it was an opportunity for a prolonged sighting and possible exchange of pleasantries by word and not blink. Little did she know of what was in store for her and how life changing it would end up being. Thalimpu Reddy, started talking. Not one pleasant word from him. He started shredding all her dreams that she had built up over these days. Infatuation it was, that we all agree, but in one ruthless speech involving words such as education,career, future, parents,culture, morals, RSS, principal, curd, lassi and buttermilk, he ruthlessly shattered all the enthusiasm , all that could have been, in one go. She wept. Well that was all she could do then.

Days passed by. She still wept. Every right she had to that. That was the least she was entitled to do, as further efforts to contact him through emissaries or even eye-talk to him were repeatedly turned down.

And they lived happily ever after, separately.

Epilogue : This blog still does not care for the feelings of Thalimpu Reddy. But it cares for that girl and is sympathetic towards her and all that she endured in the times described in the story and the times left out of the story.

Notes : Due to repeated re-telling of this story, many discrepancies have entered the actual story. Pepsi Blue or Chota Pepsi were not contemporary drinks, as research suggests that Pepsi Blue was released in India as a special edition drink sold only during the ICC Cricket WC 2003 and 200ml Chota Pepsi bottles were introduced during 2002.

There was this time, when I used to stare at girls. Looked into their eyes, till they looked away, wherein I would claim victory at the stare-game to which I had my own rules and scoring system or till they went out of sight which meant it was a draw. My favorite match was with an unknown girl, who I ogled at in West Marredpally while I was in a  moving auto. It felt like the girl knew the rules and was not willing to give up. I would like to meet her again some time, because I gave her the only victory recorded against me.

But the most memorable one was the last one, only because it was the last one. I was getting back to my Bajaj after finishing up with veggy shopping at Monda. There was this girl on a Kinetic, who looked at me. I steadied myself and started off with my best efforts, looking at her non-stop. When I reached my Bajaj, she started coming towards me. Now this was unprecedented. The game never had any rules for conversing. It was strictly an eye game. She trespassed the barrier and created unchartered territory for me. What she said then is the reason why I stop playing that game. 

Bhaiyya. You are (my sister’s name)’s brother naa.

Fatass and Pandu went to Muscle Power Gym. They went there to watch ITV and I believe went to sit on the cycle. Long time ago. I never joined them. Why, I do not know.

I joined the URMC gym yesterday and bought appropriate shoes for the same. Today, after screwing up earlier in the day, I decided to continue to stick to THE SCHEDULE. I went there, a little skeptic, a little bashful, but went there all the same. I had not undergone the customary orientation due to some clash in schedule. To use any equipment, one had to sign up. I put in my name for the cycle ( I had to follow my seniors on this. Plus, it was beside the TV so that made the decision for me ). Since I had some time, I entered the squash court. My prior experience of squash has been of me trying it and then switching to Racquetball. I went in, alone, into the court with the necessities. Hit the ball once or twice and then it happened. I twisted my ankle and fell. And there ended my Gym story. I am hardly able to walk.

Moral of Another Story : Go to gym and then do gymming. Don’t do overaction.