Category Archives: blog


Have you any idea of how bad a food (or travel) blogger I would have been? People would have called my posts ‘flogging‘, akin to vlogging that people do to realise the cost of the webcam they bought (originally to do the dirty things the internet supposedly encouraged but they never found courage for). Do taste the flavor of my flogging, once you repeat after me, “Long Post Alert!”

I have been known to enjoy my holidays, and have blogged about them before, and a not-too-past trip to South Africa was outstanding in every way.

 So, you could say I was spoiled there with good food like braised lamb shanks.


I even loved the exotic steak meats like the crocodile and the ostrich.



The fearless gourmet in me even dared to sample the kind of foods even those bred on eating meats would baulk at—sample the typical jerky-style dried beef, ostrich, deer, antelope, and bigger game. 

DSC01485(These jerkies would go well with beer and a game of football, the Africans would have you believe.)

At Cape Town’s famous restaurantDSC01499 Mama Africa, I chickened out of 

DSC01629the invertebrates in the menu!DSC01502

And all the exotic food and drink were enjoyed in backdrops that are the stuff of dreams and hallucinations.


Don’t miss the author’s celebrated feet as he savors his cheap and excellent South African wine in the midst of the Kruger while watching elephants mate (or whatever it is that they do when not taking gigantic craps).


So (hello, readers, are you still there?) with this African experience not having entirely receded from my mind, I ventured off recently to Thailand with minimal expectations.

I had been to that country several times before, and what would be different this time? Leela was very kind when giving me a list of places to eat, and I thought I would somehow endure the few days of holidaying in Bangkok and Phuket.

As my cynical mind suspected, I was spot on.

In Phuket, the weather was gloomy, as we saw from the hotel.


 The room had only two verandahs with ocean views, and only one of them was air-conditioned! Gasp, I thought, what has this world come to!


In addition, there were little animals in the room, which kind of competed for space in the tiny suite provided.


The nearby events in Samao and Indonesia were reminders of how perilously perched our world often is.


The Thai Engrees made things more fun.

DSC02788(helloo! Can you hear me?)



(come in side, but chill out side, geddit? Hopefully, the verb meant a form of leg movement!)

In Phuket’s Jung Ceylon mall, there is an excellent food court, with Wine Connection (a restaurant that serves the most incredible chocolate moose mousse and caramel custard,  unfortunately un-captured in photographs as they had incredibly short table lives) standing out for class. The KFC in there (and in other places) has a Thai curry-style fried chicken that is an experience! Such a spicy and delectable chicken dish is really unusual! My son had it every day (I kid you not), not heeding my stern warnings about trans fats and atherosclerosis.

In Bangkok, as Leela had recommended, I decided to have dinner at Cabbages and Condoms. However, I had not reckoned with the awesome traffic.


In fact, bikes and scooters were riding gaily on the pavements, a la India. 


 At the restaurant, the starters were exceptional, specially the prawn with peppers, the tom yum goong, and the catfish salad (it has spiced raw mangoes in it).

The restaurant, in spite of its name and its social purpose (they serve condoms in place of mints), is tastefully designed.


I was wondering what the heck the fried thing in the salad was, though the name said it was catfish. It was as if egg fritters were fried in hot oil. Delicious and unique. The chicken tom kha soup I had was good, but slightly sweet. Not bad at all, but I love a more creamy tom kha.


The entreé of deep fried pork in garlic pepper was disappointing (they burned the garlic, I think), but the chicken in lemongrass was excellent. In the pic, you can see the pork and the jasmine rice (including a unique red variety) in the background, and the chicken in front.

I must say I had planned to eat Tab Tim Krob, the delicious water chestnut sweet, after Leela’s post on it. I was not disappointed. This was in one of the Be Siam (or some such) restaurants.


Bei Otto:


Another evening, it was time to try Bei Otto, a German restaurant (possibly the only good one in Bangkok)  located in Sukhumvit. 


A simple grill platter of German bratwurst, pork chops and veal cutlets, served with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes, was enough to sate three of us, though I had, gastronomically speaking, a relative off day. Dessert was mangoes served with cream and ice cream and a light filo pastry. Amazing. Definitely worth a visit every time!

Restaurants apart, even the food courts in the many malls of Bangkok offer uncountable treats for the foodie. I had sushi like I have never had before. Cream pastries. Cakes. Miso soups. Pad thai. Oh, I am already tired, with so many foods I have yet to list!

The street food is eclectic. You can find incredible junk, and you can find delicious local specialties like grilled bananas. I believe they sell frog legs but I never got to eat or see that!


 So, in summary, I hope I have convinced you that Thailand is one country I am definitely not planning to visit in a long time, till next year, anyways. Especially considering that I gained ten pounds in eight days.

The only reason that I can think of is it might, just might, get me a guest post in some celeb blog like Or maybe not. Once bitten, twice Thai, I mean, shy!


Why do famous bloggers stop blogging?

1. Is it because they forget their username/password and get locked out of their blog?

2. Is it because they start new websites and write for the development of that site?

3. Do they lose their speech because some greedy female fan bit off their tongue (a species of Ardentophilus linguophagicus)? Aside– do ‘they’ have a tongue or several tongues?

4. Do they get elected President?

5. Do they rub shoulders in fashion events with scantily clad nymphs who look like Asian Paints representatives? 

6. Do they lose their sense of humor and start writing columns for other websites?


DSC00131In case you guessed it, here is a holiday for two to Alaska from me– here is a priceless depiction of the erstwhile blogger Rambodoc (now occasionally seen, like a horse in pajamas, in social media like Twitter or Facebook) on the ramp. The pictures of sundry Asian Paints representatives rubbing their ample assets on his strong arms have been deleted by the Indian Government. 

Oh, and about the Alaska trip? Just buy the tickets. I will buy you a bear beer.


In one of those infinitely crazy moments that have always exemplified His Non-existence, the Great God overseeing the Virtual World (Webramha) decided to amuse himself by putting together a bunch of virtual people and getting them to interact with each other, with each taking up the last thread of a mad conversation. Some of these folk may resemble familiar people, but you alone are responsible for assuming any resemblance. The following is the excerpt from the BBC WordPress Report.

Dirtymindoc: Hi, gays, I mean guys! How are you feelin’? Heh, heh, if you know what I mean? My old girlfriends always had hard feelings for me, you know?
Pal’s Coughing Phallus: I had a late night thought: do feelings go through your hands and mind at the same time? And if my Hand’s feelings are due to Hormones, are my Mind’s feelings due of Mormones?
Dirtymindoc: Yes, more moans, Pal! That is our religion.
Kool Karni Nita: In India, according to the last Special Committee on Religions Report, there are more than 743 of them. Of this, there are 733 variations of Hinduism.
Flabbydoc: There are 733 variations of the push-up. Would you like to see one where I keep the scapula protracted?
Dirtymindoc: Interesting. Can you keep your scapula protracted when you are, you know, pushed up? Heh, heh!
Pal’s Coughing Phallus: I had a late night thought: Can Don do push-ups?
Kreema: I saw Don 23 times and blogged about it 24 times. Did you read them, ki na?
Litterabuse: I have don something akin to it 42 times. :-p
Shefolly: Why did Michelle Obama smiley at the Queen? Read my latest blog post over at my other blog. Just make sure you are wearing a tie. And please don’t go beyond smiling.
Flabbydoc: Smiling is an aerobic exercise. As research has shown us again and again, it is anerobic exercise which can burn fat in 7 days. I challenge you to smile intensely for 7 days and see the difference.
See-smut: It was the difference that caught her eye. He was so strikingly unsmiling. She thought, a warm summer breeze would freeze near him. The river stood silently beside her. Brooding. Grim. Cold.
Shefolly: It is cold in London today, as brilliantly shown in Penniless Dope’s latest blog post. However, many (less intelligent, hélas!) deny this, while the Pope….
Pal’s Coughing Phallus: The Pope is (according to the Authority on Authoritarians) God’s Weapon of Mass Distortion. I had a late night thought: is Distortion of Reality part of Reality or a part of Distortion?
Cracked Nippil: You get Distortion of Reality if you drink too little beer. I would normally drink real fucking beer back home, not the kind of donkey piss that I am forced to have now that I am stranded in Mumbai with a stacked chick and that I am suffering from what my fucking doctor calls as ‘Nippil Distortion, that perverted jerk!
Kreema: Distortion was one of my exam questions this year. As you know, I am one of the most awarded bloggers in here. I even did an award-winning tag on ” Eighty Distorted Things in My Life” where I had 127 smileys in the main post and 289 of them in the 66 comments that followed.
Kool Karni Nita: Me too don’t like too many comments. That is why I have made a limit of 15,000 comments for each post. That way, I don’t have to answer too many comments, and I get more time to devote to my hubby and my freelance work.
Dirtymindoc: Yeah, I like ‘free lance‘. Heh, heh!
Rada: He…he… he was actually trying to touch my feet, imagine that!! Thinking he could get pubbed in Dishypundit, but am so not into all this, you know?! I was with my daughter when this…
Danish Bobby : You know, my daughter asked me, “If you get free speech in the US, where do you get a free lunch?”
Shocki: It was a free lunch where Kavita met him. His manly looks instantly got her attention, but it was when he smiled that her heart went fluttering. Subconsciously, she fingered her wedding ring, while the baby in her belly gave her a smart kick. Choking her tears, she looked away.
Flabbydoc: Looking away is a great way of exercising the sternomastoid muscle. If you really want to develop six packs in the neck, you must look away and up, and hold it for ten seconds. Repeat a hundred times in one set, and four sets of this will give you great results in a few years. But you will look different (though in a weird direction)!
God: I am the One giving Directions here. Cut (the freakin’ crap)!


Over at my new blog, I posted on the above topic, something I put in for DR of Health Habits.
I was among an elite group of health and fitness bloggers (from whom I learn on a daily basis) contributing to Fitness Guru DR at his blog Health Habits.
This is my contribution, and check out those of others by clicking this link:

The intro:
“Indians are always geared to recession, though you may not understand that from the media reports of a resurgent and shining India. Indians are generally conscious of not wasting money, especially while giving it off to people (ask me, I have to take my fees out from my patients through their body orifices!). But, in these difficult times, being careful with your money is a policy that resonates easily with everyone here. We are all finally in one recession-hit global village today!
I have some suggestions:”
Go there if you want to read it.


(pic source:
India’s Finance Minister, Mr. P Chidambaram (affectionately called PC) has advised his countrymen not to use certain words. A Twist of Word and Mind has the exclusive excerpts of his speech. If this country’s economy were not on the cholera commode, I would have asked for money for readers wanting to enjoy his historic speech. Anyways, such is the life of the unfortunate many who are not destined to make big money. Here is PC’s exclusive remarks he made to us:

I strongly caution the media against using the word ‘recession’ when referring to the Indian economy. We are not in a recession. We are merely in growth retardation, like a midget, sorry for not being PC!
You should, similarly, avoid using words loosely. After all, the Indian media cannot behave like an irresponsible blogger who misused his invite to the Leadership Summit in New Delhi last week. That was insinuation, another word we don’t want to see too often.
There is no confusion, either in me, or in the minds of the High Command. You cannot make good pasta if you are confused. You know, the art of pasta making is very precise and scientific. In a way, it is the culinary equivalent of sending a rocket to the moon. Imagine: a hundred different pastas, and each has a different boiling time. Each one is different: for example, you can’t use the shell types in a dry garlic-olive mix, you need it to be soaking in lots of gravy or soup. I could go on and on, as I have done a lot of research on this before I became Finance Minister, but let me get on to other equally important subjects. Don’t say there is confusion. There is none.
Don’t talk of the Opposition: there is none. We do not need one. We just need more position.
I hate people using the F word: there is no inFlation: we deFlated it. And this is thanks to the media. If they had not gone hammer and tongs at us over the weekly inflation data, we would not have created this economic growth retardation. After all, if you kill growth, there won’t be any inflation, will there?

But, Sir, what about Zimbabwe? There is a 225 million percent inflation there, and the only growth they have is of the HIV virus. How can you…”

Please let us not compare spaghetti and vermicelli. We cannot compare with an advanced country like Zimbabwe. They even have more monkeys than we have, if you don’t count the Bajrang Dal!
Like I was saying, the media and the blogging community together have to be sensitive about the language. We are not negative, there are actually words we like: punctuation, dictation, relation, donation, election, defection, etc. But let us not use offensive words. Let us be Politically Correct (the real PC, I say, haha!) in our language. We like to see our people use more words like reservation, but not words like secession. Commission yes, corruption no. Seduction and secretion is good, not … let me not run out of words!
I would like you to create a Commission to make a list of shun-words that create inflammation in the minds of our silly public. Why don’t you put your suggestions for our implementation in our next media policy?


Many of my readers are exercise freaks: they freak out whenever they have to do some strenuous exercise. Like turning the orbits 5 degrees to the right and scroll down two inches to check into the blogroll of authors whose glorious names are enshrined forever in the posteriority posterity of the internet. These readers have no energy for mousework beyond that required to just get into this blog (pant, pant)! Some have dispensed even with that. They get their fix from emails. Now, it is my singular intention to drive those readers into reading the exciting blogs of my friends.
Since I cannot anticipate exactly what these folks will post next, I am imagining how the next post could be like. If you get interested, then do visit my friends.

    Is the Nightie going to disappear?

According to this report prepared by the Indian Association of Garment Retailers, sales of the nightie (the single garment that covers the body from neck to toes favored erstwhile by urban Indian women) are falling. Indian males, according to this report, are very conservative, and 105 percent of them think the nightie is too revealing when their own wives, daughters and sisters are wearing them. Even my milkman told me that he threw out his wife for wearing a nightie. At the same time, he does not mind roaming around in his lungi at home. Typical male double standards, huh!
Women, on the other hand, this study reveals, don’t agree. 35 percent think the Burkha is too revealing and vulgar.

(two paragraphs skipped)

According to the World Negligeé Research Center, the statistics from other countries are startling.
Kenyan women and Kosovo’s women have something in common with ….
Picture copyrighted to me.

To read more, visit Nita‘s record-breaking (in terms of readership/research/comments) blog.

    Another Award!

Randy, Dandy and Arancini-Blogsmith have all, for some strange reason, awarded me an award of Overwhelming and Profound Blogger. I am in two minds: part of me asks, like Nagasaki Haragawa asks in his profound blog, where do I show my profundity? I never mean to intimidate people with my PhD and sundry other degrees. I merely ask people to think like B-school graduates with additional capabilities in French and Cambridge Inglees.
The other part of me, busy as it is in creating Hawt Posts, spearheading research projects to slim down residents of the EU, increasing the profitability of certain charitable Banks in Geneva and Zurich, and completing another PhD on ‘Communicating with Unfathomable Giants of the Post-Modern World’, is pleased that serious readers, among them Alex Allergia and Constant Horsense, are now regulars….

For more of Shefaly‘s unique brand of blogging, click here.

    Title Does Not Matter

I often wonder, while I lay by the side of Caroline, Betty and Paris, “why does man need to have sex?” Isn’t it so much more comfortable to be just, well, asexually confused?

Next post:

Andy Borowitz says white supremacists will not vote for Obama because he is black. Now, it seems Borowitz is himself a sort of KKK fluke without the hood. Obama, of course, is not black, he is a victim of advanced melanosis…..

Next post:

I met an old friend in a coffee shop where I tried to find shelter from a couple of overly friendly women who were chasing me. My friend was torn apart in conflict. Or at least his underwear was. One leg wanted to go to the bar, and the other to church. I wondered, does God understand this important fact: that one’s underwear needs to be free of tension and conflict? And do we need to wear underwear to Church? What do you think?

For the intellectual aroma of Cafe Philos, click here.


I went with my two dogs, Jai and Veeru, for a walk to the Tughlakabad Fort which is near my million-dollar residence. I have never been to the Fort, and I was pleasantly surprised to see how beautifully it was kept by the monkeys of the Fort and the Government. I thought of an Urdu shairee by ghalib:
“Dard ho dill mein to dawakijay
Dill hi jab dard ho to kya kijay”.
I know the couplet is irrelevant, but we Dilliwallahs are like this only.

For Prerna’s interesting blog, walk in here.

    Neologism of the Day

Sal-sa-va-tion n.
(modern American ‘Salsa’– Mexican sauce with chillies and tomatoes + ‘saliva’– spit + ‘salvation’– you know what it means).
The state of bliss when there is a spurt of saliva in the mouth following a mouthful of spicy salsa.
“The remark fell on deaf ears, as Rambo was in a state of intense salsavation“.

For more inventive English, click here.
I realise there are lots of other blogs I need to lead you to, but let us stop here for the moment. That way I get to retain at least some of my friends in the blogosphere!


I am known to be nimble with a bra and undies but, somehow, Shefaly forgot to press the space bar, and it so happens that I have to talk on, no, not even brandies, but brands.
I might have married a branded wife (handsome young stud that I was am), but I did not. The one I did nearly branded me with a hot pressing iron for lateral winking, following which I signed off my right to liberty and pursuit of happiness. Whatever is left is called life, at least as per the pieces of paper written by Father figures like James Madison and Benji Franklin.
As for material objects that rule our lives, I am ambivalent about brands. Some are awesome and to-kill-for, while others are overrated, and many unbranded things are outstanding.
I will take this meme my way. Because it is my brand of blogging.

At daybreak, I get into the standard Nike/Reebok gym gear and drive my car to my gym, which is not Gold’s Gym. International gym gear is outstandingly high class. It allows one to stretch one’s limbs so far away from each other that it seems inconceivable how they manage to come back to status quo ante. My shoes create no ecco when I move, because I wear quiet, red shoes, which means they scream “I am sexy, look up!” However, it is alleged in certain quarters that only street dogs hear that particular scream. Jealousy has its own brand, doesn’t it?

ON return, I scan The Times, both Economic and Indian. Stardom Levis its own price, depending on the sign of your Zodiac, I think as I dress up, looking at the Flor sheimfully. I exit for work, leaving a trail of sarcastic exclamations: “Dior me! He is going Higher, a Huge Boss. Will you return by 212?”
At work, I see the unbranded and unwashed poor who come to me. At surgery, it is important to Image One self as a medical Stryker, though not in the Indian communist sense. I Proceed through a mesh of cases in Harmonic motion. Thank God, I am spared a pile of trouble in the hospital bathrooms.
Back home, I am the Apple of my own iSight, and get Bourdeaux watching the Sam sungs on MTV in my den. In no time, I sleep. Unlike the Citi which I don’t bank on.
You can be happy alone, but misery is contagious. I propose to inflict this meme on Bikerdude and Marc.


The title of this post could have been “What I have been up to to have stopped blogging for so long”. Since I wasn’t sure whether, in the title, I could put into two to’s together, I desisted.

Whew. Life has been hectic, lemme tell ya!

I have been operating a lot, including some pretty difficult cases. Some sad, like a thirty year old girl who had advanced rectal cancer. I knocked off her left colon and rectum along with her uterus. She’s not gonna live too long, though chemo would give her some years, hopefully. She glares at me so angrily (she has a temporary colostomy) that I asked her, “Do you hate me, or you just angry with me?” She burst into tears and wailed “I am so scared!” I felt like a narrow-minded rat. Peculiar, that. Rats would have narrow minds and hinds, too, wouldn’t they?

On top of work, I have changed my life quite a bit without any New Year resolutions.

*For one, I have totally quit smoking, like Shane Warne has totally quit cricket and SMS-sex. The girls who have visiting rights to my mouth say they wished they could move in permadently. If you can stomach this gummy and toothfool statement.

*I eat only one sweet a day, rather (inversely) like an IPO attracts one customer a day.

*I eat rakshashoid portions of veggies and fruits daily, rather similar to the reserves of love that one of the Thackerays has for the Biharis, Gujaratis and Madrasis of Mumbai city. See pic of subject’s breakfast, for example, weighing around two pounds.


*I do an hour-and-a-half solid gym workout six days a week. This is, I notice, the exact time the guys who kill chickens (cullers, not killers) must be spending a day doing their work. No wonder, West Bengal and its contained bloggers are protein-starved and liable to be renamed Beangalis. The punned plant product being the main source of amine nitrogen in our diet in these days of the H5N1 virus.

*I cooked a very elaborate Chinese dinner one evening, but the flavors fell flatter than my puns.

*I research a bit on what is happening to the stock markets, preparatory to investing a bit of money when the market is down. So far, I think I have invested more money than I ever knew I had earned. Which means about as much money as an Ambani’s driver makes in a month.

End of story. All of this would make it next morning already. 7am, and work starts again.

Net net (as the corporate and CNBC-types say so irritatingly): aforementioned blogdoc is lighter by 4 kilograms in two weeks, plenty of muscle fibers showing, belly flattening, preparatory to the development of the imaginary six-packs. Only my shaven head (another new development) prevents the chicks from accidentally falling on me, lips locked to mine.
I am, of course, poorer now, and very blogopenic (Greek penia=lack, poverty).

Do accept my genuine apologies for not blogging, and for not visiting. And for the ladies who are not falling for me now, I have this to say: “The weight will be worth it!” I think the Emaar-MGF (also called the Bimaar MGF) IPO-wallahs will be saying more or less the same thing, as they nurse sore backsides from the kicks of the non-paying public.

(Oh, this post is dedicated to Geetha for being so sweet!)


Regulars in ‘this’ blogging community (for there is no name for the loose association of bloggers and readers I come across) might have noticed some quietness creeping in from the sides.
Bloggers are becoming silent, one by one. Nothing has been as pronounced as Mahendra‘s quietness. He seems to have decided to throw in the towel, for his own reasons. I have reasons to believe that he is alive and otherwise well. Arun, Oemar, Madhuri are some others who have gone quiet. Xntric Pundits has been blocked by WordPress due, probably, to some problem with their Terms of Service.
Bancheese has just announced a period of silence till January, feeling a writer’s block.
Which brings me to me. I have no dearth of comments, nor do I lack the passion to bore you people with my pontifications or upset you with my singular lack of conventional morals, tact and niceties.
However, I am getting very little time these days. Increasingly, I am resigned to a quick look at my Dashboard, and then pack up. This makes me a bad blogger. I managed to write my last post only because I was out of town and was waiting at airports with nothing else to do.
A creepy voice inside me says, like Moaning Myrtle to Harry Potter, “So shall we assume this is the beginning of the end? Will your blogging end with a whimper, like the rest of your pathetic life?”
To which I am tempted to strongly respond in the negative. My life may arguably be described as pathetic, but it will not end with a whimper. It almost certainly will end with a rasping, orgasmic gasp. I, however, reflect on this again, and cannot but wonder, “Is Moaning Myrtle’s voice the voice of truth?”
MM continues to purr in with a sickly sweet voice, “You could do with some exercise, you know that? And are you forgetting that you have not read a page of the last ten books you bought?”
Which is true. I could do with exercise, and I could do with some reading, some listening to music, and maybe some more academia. If I write, I will probably not stop at less than a thousand words, and eradicate every spelling mishtake or poor punctuation, or missedspacing.But not write right bad English.
That said, things are tough. Look at tomorrow. I start operating at 7 am. I have twenty cases, almost all major procedures. I will mostly trudge back home at around 7 pm. This leaves me time in the evening, but not enough to really do justice to writing.
Doing the inner voice thing (exercise, reading, etc.) will spell doom to my promising car-rear as a word-winning blogger.
MM tells me that my not blogging will not change anything. Is she right? I can only say that not blogging might make a difference to me, if no one else.


I don’t normally write a blog post on an article without having my own say, but here is an exception.
Amit Varma of India Uncut writes a splendid article on rights.
Check it out.