The Lovell Dies Crapsite

Continued from: Part 1: The Cast.

Part 2
In office one morning. At Johnny’s desk.

Me: Danny is coming for the trip.
John: What? F*cker are you serious?
Me: Ya, f*cker. Why the f*ck would I joke for no reason?
John: F*ck.

Eight heads pop over to the cubicles and give us blank stares.

Me: Not so loud man.
John: F*ck them!
Me: Vignesh called him from the US. Threw some senti dialogue and convinced him. Said something something, Jesus something, you have to come something. Basically he is coming and I’m gonna book his ticket right now.
John: Awesome news man. But I think he will ditch us at the last moment.
Me: He can’t man. F*ck him. His wife said to take him and show him the world. Said he is a boring fellow and he needs a holiday. So we have her green signal too.
John: F*cker, what if he dies on the trip? Who will take care of his kids?

Time for some context. Danny’s wife is actually his fiancee. And they do not have kids. John Paul’s and my conversations are always over exaggerated and we make things sound like the end of the world is near.

Me: F*ck his kids man. I mentioned that Danny could die, she said “Danny can’t die” and that Jesus will keep him alive.
John: Ch**tye he is not even married.
Me: Yeah, screw all that man. He wont die. Jesus will save him.

‘Jesus does not exist. Hanuman is the real God’, shouts Rahul from nowhere. He joins us at John Paul’s desk.

John: Abbey saale, we are both Roman Catholics here, we will convert you and your whole family!
Rahul: Hahahaha, Mayawati will convert you guys as soon as you reach UP man.
Me: Lets take a fire truck to his house and spray his whole family with holy water.
Rahul: Abbey, teri behaan ki…..
John: Okay, okay, Important news here. Danny is joining us for the trip.
Rahul: Dude, that is such awesome news dude!
Me: Yeah, f*ck that sh*t.

Danny arrives and place his bag at his desk.  He puts each and every strand of hair in place and starts walking towards us. All the ladies stop what they are doing, time slows down and then you hear a collective siiiigghhhh. Danny joins us. The ladies resume work.

Rahul: Dude, I heard you are coming for the trip. This is such awesome news man!
Danny: Arrey, what da. I don’t know man. I’ll decide today and let you know.
Me: F*ck you man. Lets go my desk and book the tickets.
Danny: We shall book it later man, I’m not sure.
Me: Suck my c*ck, motherf*cker, f*ck your sh*t and just come to my desk and we will book the f*cking ticket, b*stard.
Danny: Arrey.. but..
John: Ch**tye, just book the tickets and you can decide later.
Rahul: Dude, book it man, this is awesome dude! Don’t worry Jejus will protect you.

More context. We weren’t just seven of us. There was actually eight. The last person on the trip was Jesus.

This is not a joke, nor is it supposed to be any kind of mockery. Yes, Jesus was on this trip too. Little did we know that He would be playing an important role in the trip later on. Jesus will be referred to as Jesus or Jejus.

We all leave to our respective desks. Johnny unlocks his computer and resumes chatting with eight women, yawns, scratches his head and resumes consuming his cornflakes.

Me: What’s your problem man? Too much fuss. Just shut up and come for the trip else f*ck off.
Danny: Hehehe, what are you saying man?
Me: F*ck you come to my desk, lets book the tickets.
Danny: Okay.

Danny reluctantly comes over and we start the process of locating flights and in the next half hour or so the tickets were booked. Daniel Peddity was officially part of the trip. The spoilt brat who could not live without air-conditioning, fresh water or toilet paper was now in for the trip of his life.

Me: Now you are in.
Danny: I can cancel the tickets man.
Me: F*ck your cancellation. If you even think of that I’ll get some 400 horny hairy f*ckers from Madhya Pradesh to gang rape you!
Danny: What are you saying man? Disturbed child you are. Did someone abuse you when you were a kid?
Me: My b*lls are disturbed. Now go to your desk and do some f*cking work. Ch**tya saal, talking too much for your height!

Danny laughs and goes to his desk. A days work begins.

1230 hrs IST.
John Paul’s stomach starts to growl. The smell of chicken and mutton travel from the cafeteria into Johnny’s nostrils triggering a chain of events which results in him locking his computer. Fourteen women are now left on their own. They will have to wait till Johnny comes back. Nothing stops the John Paul from satisfying his hunger.

John: Chal, lets go.
I look above my cubicle and see a hungry John Paul ready to sink his teeth into the next thing that moved provided it tasted good.
Me: Go where f*cker?
John: To the loo, to hump the guys there, ch**tya. Lets go.

I lock my computer.

Me: I don’t wanna hump any guys man. F*ck you.
John: Abbey saale, lets go eat.

I leave my cubicle and throw a drumstick at Danny (who sits diagonally opposite me). It missed his head by a few centimeters. Danny turns back all surprised.

Danny: Arrey, I could have got hurt man.
Me: F*ck  you, Jesus is protecting you. Nothing will happen. Lets go eat.

Danny locks his computer. One girl is left waiting. We head towards the urinal. More sighs are heard. The output graphs of the female members in the team take sudden dips whenever Danny is found walking around the floor. We reach the men’s room. Three of the seven sh*t compartments are occupied. We head to the urinals and relieve ourselves. A collective sigh is hear, but this time out of relief.

Me: Johnny, lets beat the sh*t out the first guy who comes out of any of these sh*t compartments.
John: Hahaha, dude, I think they are beating themselves right now.
Me: Hahahaha!
Danny: You fellows are so bad.

And saying that Danny heads off, stares into the mirror and starts adjusting every strand of hair on his head. There are times when I felt the mirror would crack after having to look at him do this at least five times a day. Johnny and I wait outside while Peddity grooms himself. He comes back out after like, forever.

Me: F*cker I hope you go bald.
Danny: Hehehe, dude what’s wrong with him?
John:  Dunno man, never really bothered to ask. But seems like he is okay. If he stops abusing then that means something must be wrong.
Me: F*ck you both, motherf*ckers. Suck my c*ck.
Danny: Disturbed child he is.

We head off to Rahul’s desk and drag him for lunch.

Rahul: Arrey, saale, kamine log, let me work man. I’ve created this awesome tool man..
Me: F*ck your tool man. Shove it up Danny’s ars* f*cker.
Rahul: Dude, what’s wrong with him?
John: F*ck him man, let go to eat and plan for the trip.

The four of us head to the cafeteria. A majority of women stop eating and stare at us.

Rahul: Dude, all the girls are staring at me.
Me: F*ck you, they are staring at me. These Hyderabadi women, they like guys with beards. So f*ck you.
John: Ah, chicken! Woohoo!! (And heads off to serve himself).

Danny adjusts his hair and puts that stray strand back in place. The place goes sigh again. In a few minutes we are done serving ourselves and head off to one corner of the cafe so that we can survey the entire floor for hot women.

Me: F*cker sit on the other side, f*cker.
Danny: Huh?
Me: B*stard, you are committed what the f*ck do you wanna check out chicks for?
Danny: Arrey, what are you saying?
John: Abbey saale, go sit on the opposite side.

Danny reluctantly goes and sits on the opposite side of the table with his back facing a freak show of colleagues. Rahul comes with his plate filled with some vegetarian nonsense.

Me: F*cker how can you eat that sh*t?
John: Ya f*cker, eat some meat.
Rahul: Oye! I’ll complain to Mayawati, she will eat you.
Danny: You guys are crazy!

John: Okay, now serious stuff alright. Just few days left for the trip. We need to plan everything and make sure nothing goes wrong.
Me: F*ck that man, lets just go all out and if we have to die then so be it.
Danny: I don’t want to die man, I have to come back and marry my girl.
Me: F*ck your girl man. No offense okay, I didn’t mean it. All respect to her, but f*ck your girl man. F*cker.
Danny: You are really disturbed man.
Me: My b*alls are disturbed.
John: Arrey, f*ckers listen to me at least.
Rahul: Dude, this paneer is awesome man. Try it!
John: Abbey, shove your paneer up your ars* f*cker, now listen to me.

We all start munching our food while Johnny takes charge of the proceedings.

John: All tickets are booked and a list has been made of what to carry so make sure not to forget anything.
Me: You know what would be really cool, getting abducted by terrorists.
Rahul: Dude, yeah man. I heard they take tourists hostage sometimes.

Danny’s face goes white. He stops eating.

Danny: You serious man? I’m not coming then.
Me: Then f*ck you.
Danny: No man, I’m serious. I don’t want to get into this terrorist nonsense.
Me: Yeah hope they catch only you and cut your b*alls and feed it to the dogs.
Danny: Dude, if there are terrorists there then I’m not coming. I’ll go cancel my tickets in the evening.
John: Arrey f*cker, you think they will be standing there with boards saying that they are terrorists?
Danny: I can’t take the risk man.
Rahul: Dude, try the palak also. Awesome food today man.
John: F*ck your veg sh*t man.
Me: Danny f*cker, don’t worry. You won’t die man.
Rahul: You have Jejus also no?
Danny: Dude, it’s Jesus man, stop making fun.
Rahul: Ah ah! Jejus for me. All same. Jejus, Hanuman, Allah, all are the same.
Me: F*cker, Allah means God.
Rahul: Same thing man.
John: F*cker chill, we are there to save you incase we are taken hostage.
Danny: I’m not coming man, that’s it!

With that Danny goes into deep though. He starts thinking of the great future that is in store. He will marry his girl. Make small Danny’s. All talented. Yes all. One will play the guitar, one the drums and the other will sing. They will start a band and form a Counter Strike team. Danny starts to wonder why one of his son has a beard.

Me: Screw that, Johnny just think man, we are taken hostage and then the terrorists ask the government for a ransom. All the media coverage and in between we kill the terrorists man. We will become stars man. Chicks will dig us.
John: No man. What terrorists f*cker? If I got to die, I want to die after fighting a tiger man. Imagine a tiger comes and attacks us. I start to fight it and save you guys, but I die in the bargain. That’s the death I want f*cker.
Me: That’s so cool man! Getting killed by a tiger. Chicks dig that kinda stuff man! You will be a hero man. Imagine all the necrophilic chicks would so want to do you man.
Danny: What rubbish you guys talk.
Rahul: Dude, paneer man. Really awesome!
Me: Abbey vegetarian go f*ck your paneer and die!

John: Danny f*cker, listen. If any of us have to die, we will die in proper order.
Me: Sounds so cool man!
John: If we are attacked, I will die first.
Me: F*ck you man, I will die first.
John: Abbey saale, we will both die first f*cker. The point is one of us will die first. Then Rahul.
Rahul: What about Vignesh and those two friends? What are their names?
Me: One’s Maruthi. God knows the other guy’s name.
John: Suzuki.
Me: It’s not Suzuki man.
John: It’s a joke f*cker!
Me: F*ck your joke.
John: So lets do one thing. Let those two f*ckers die first man. We will use them as decoys. Make them do something to distract the terrorists and die, you and I will fight and let Danny run away.
Me: F*cker but I thought that you wanted to die first. Ah, nevermind. So let those two machaan die first. What about Vignesh man?
John: Vignesh will also die man but later.
Rahul: Dude, paneer. Awesome!
Me: This f*cker. They should kill him first. I’m telling you man. They should f*cking shoot Rahul even before they take us hostage.
John: So then it’s just you, me and Danny.
Me: F*cker, we will fight man. I’m not going down without a fight. I will f*cking kill at least two terrorists man.
John: Danny, f*cker. Stop getting upset. You won’t die.
Rahul: Dude, Jejus man. Jejus will save you.
Me: F*ck you man. Johnny and I will save him.
Rahul: Even I’ll save you Danny.
John: F*cker, you are dead.
Me: My b*alls are dead, f*cker!

With that we finished out lunch. We headed out of the cafeteria. Heads turned, sighs were heard. Danny was still in shock hearing about terrorists and death.

But one thing was fixed. The Dying Sequence. Rahul would be killed even before we could be taken hostage. If the terrorists did not kill him, we would. This would be done just to keep the sanity of the terrorists in check and save us from getting killed too early. Next, Johnny and I would come up with a plan on the fly and execute it commando style. We would use Maruthi and Suzuki as decoys, make them do some sh*t and distract the terrorists. The terrorists would in turn get angry and start shooting at the two of them. Johnny and I would then put up a fight against the terrorists while we instruct Vignesh and Danny to make a dash for safety. Maruthi and Suzuki die. Johnny and I would hold the terrorists for however long it would take us until we knew that Vignesh and Danny are safe. During this stand off Johnny and I would die. The terrorists would then spot Vignesh and Danny at the horizon, just almost out of sight. They fire shots. Vig and Dan are about to fall out sight, when one bullet hits Vignesh right on the head. Tall f*cker that he is, he did not manage to clear the horizon in time. Danny survives.

Danny would go on to tell, his three songs and the world, the story of how three machaans sacrificed themselves and how two brave men stood up against the terrorists to keep him safe. Chicks dig dying brave guys!

Update: Part 3: The Day, The Wait is now up.

Well as some of you may be knowing, recently a bunch of suicidal non-committed guys decided to make a trip up north to the amazing state in India, Jammu & Kashmir. Well okay, there was one committed fellow, but it was decided that in case we were ever abducted by terrorists, we would somehow save his booty and make sure he reached back to his lady love in one piece, without a scratch. And yes, we had a dying sequence in place in case we really had to die.

We also had some crazy discussions like who was the  real saviour. Jesus, Hanuman or Mohammed? The great Buddha also became a serious contestant after learning that most of the people on the north are buddhist. Lots of content from this discussions shall remain classified. We even tried to convert Rahul into following Christianity, but he was too attached to Hinduism and did not cave in to our pressure. Having two Roman Catholics and one Protestant, we even thought of a mass conversion and building churches. But that never kicked off.

We saw Pakistan, hot chicks, met Minissha Lamba and some gay actor who’s name I can’t recollect. Almost got killed by a crazy driver (but later realized that Rahul maybe on dope) and almost skid off cliffs on multiple occasions. Got caught in heavy rain, hail and snow in a matter of hours. Ate some stuff that tossed everyone’s stomachs. Rode up and down one of the highest motorable roads in the world, almost froze to death, got punctured tires, trekked for hours and hours together. We even saw some breathtaking landscape, stayed on private boat house, had a dedicated butler, got stuck in some violence in Srinagar and survived. Collectively clicked more that five thousand photographs, had fun and loads of more stuff.

And here my friends, is a documentation of the trip up north!

Part 1: The Cast

We shall begin with the brainchild behind this trip. The one and only John Paul Sankardhas.

You don’t mess with the John Paul. The man hails from the army. His father is the Major Superior General Something Something Big Man in the Army fellow. Basically John Paul sh*ts in his pants whenever his father comes home. Having spent his entire childhood loitering around the hills of North East India, this man was nick named ‘Ibex’ after displaying immense hiking skills on a previous trip to the Himalayas. John Paul takes the final call on disputes during trips. Also, it has been noticed that the women have some kinda fetish for the fellow. In this documentation, we shall refer to him as Johnny, John, Baap, Saale, mallu f*cker, etc. You get the drift.

Next on the list is the machaan from Chennai, Vignesh Anand.

The Machaan is known for his fetish of bikes. Show him something that has a motor, a chain, two wheels and a petrol tank, and he will shut down mating season to ride it. The man is is denial about Tamil Nadu being part of India. Well I can’t blame him for that. He got a bad reputation as far as stamina was concerned, but little did we know that on this trip he would go on to surprise us all. He is also known as the poser, coz he poses for all photographs. But I now think its just a tamil thing and not really his fault. Machaan, will be referred to as Machaan, Vignesh or Vig.

Third in row, the paranoid f*cker, Rahul Rishi.

The other poser. My theory of tamil boys being posers was at stake after this guy start asking me to click his photos. Anyway, the man is from the really screwed up state in India, politically known as Uttar Pradesh. Which is now being split into like 800 parts. Yes, that state where murder is cool and robbery is a family past time. His presence is always appreciated, especially as we are kept entertained non stop. His negotiation skills are really good and his paranoia sometimes reaches to an extent such that everyone around him appears to be murderers and hardcore criminals. He shall be referred to as Rahul, Bosad, Saale, Ch**tya or Rishi.

Number four. The Good Boy. Daniel Peddity.

The above photo was clicked at the start of the trip, when we were in Delhi. It speaks a lot. Daniel Peddity, our nice holy boy, wasn’t too excited about the trip. Right here he was thinking, “Muskit Muskit, safety safety”. It took a lot of convincing, abusing and some pressure from his better half to get him to say yes. Now this is the one person who we did not want dead on the trip. A lot of people depends on the young man. His Church would have to shut down if he died, I am not kidding. When you get a phone call from your Pastor, who is half way down the nation, on why you haven’t come to Church, you ought to be someone important. His hands are gifted. Yes, only the hands. Counter strike champ. Plays the guitar, drums, piano, TT, chess and can basically do anything with his hands. More about him in detail later. Daniel will be referred to as Danny, Dan, Peddity, Peddity Bhai, Satan, Soitan, Muskit and Daniel.

Fifth on the list. Another machaan named Maruthi Raj Manivannan.

This man, I met him for the first time. He is a friend of the original machaan, Vignesh. Besides that, I did not know who he was, I did not know what he did or who he did, but all I knew was that he was Maruthi. He would also land up playing a vital role in reinforcing my theory that all tamil boys are posers when it comes to photographs. Now since I don’t know him too well and he is not within punching distance, I shall not abuse him that much. He is referred to as Maru or Maruthi.

Sixth. Anand Narayanmurthy. No I don’t know if he has a Facebook profile.

This man, yes he sealed my theory on the tamil boy poser thing. He is another friend of Machaan and I did not know him before the trip. He also shall not be abused brutally. He will be referred to as Sharja (no don’t ask me from where that name came), Anand or Sarjah.

And last, Me. Lovell D’souza.

Foul mouthed Goan guy. I’m also in denial when we say Goa is part of India. Clicked like three thousand photos and annoyed everyone with the shutter sound. My role was to throw around 200 highly abusive and sensitive questions to Danny in order to get him to abuse, but failed. I abused Rahul at times too. I documented the trip by clicking photographs, taking GPS readings, recording the paths we trekked and  making candid audio and video recordings. I shall be referred to as Me or I.

And that is the cast. The seven of us who went out to explore the great state of Jammu and Kashmir. Not knowing if we would come back alive. But knowing one thing, that Danny would surely come back alive and would tell the world what brave people we were and what great adventures we went on. The trip up north begins!

Update: Part2: The Dying Sequence is now up.

Before you start reading this, you would like to get some context by reading about the Murder at Hanuman Nagar #48.

Now to what happened.

I wake up in the morning, actually it was more like an afternoon. But on a Saturday, my morning begins post noon. The guy who takes care of the house was in our balcony. This guy is also the laundry man of the colony, and he uses our terrace to dry his clothes sometimes. We are cool with that as long as there is someone to keep an eye on our place so that robbers and murderers stay away. And, the terrace is huge, so we don’t really have to look at someone else’s underwear hanging around. I don’t really know this guy’s name, so lets call him Appa.

Appa greets me can calls me sahib  (thats like ‘sir’ in hindi). I feel good. My morale is boosted. Alright!

Appa: You guys came pretty late last night. Wasn’t it around like 2 am?
Me: Yeah we did come late.
Appa: Had to work overtime I guess.
Me: Yeah, theres a lot of work. (If only he knew what bad people we were, he would stop hanging the clothes on our terrace).
Appa: I was ironing clothes late into the night. Even I have a lot of work nowadays.
Me: Yeah I noticed you. (Sh*t suddenly he makes me feel so bad).
Appa: You guys were awake even after that, I saw your balcony light on.
Me (F*ck, hope he did not see how we disposed the bodies): Ya, there was a dead cat here and two dead mice too. We were disposing the bodies.
Appa: What? Only one cat?
Me (Holy mother of the Phantom): What? There are more dead cats here???!!!
Appa: Yes.

Appa walks to a small cemented block in which our water meter takes shelter and points to it. And there lay another dead feline. It’s body under the meter, with one paw on top of the meter and another pointing towards the North Pole I guess. It had bled through the nose, all the blood dried by now. Disgusting sight. Well, not really that disgusting, but disgusting to some extent nevertheless. Appa puts his hand into the  water meter compartment, finds the tail of the cat and tugs on it. It does not budge a bit. Must have died last night and it’s body had become stiff. Appa gives another hard tug and manages to get the dead cat out. It’s body had taken a very weird indescribable  shape. He carries it to our gate, and in one smooth swing of the arm, he flings it in to the dumping area we used the previous night. Blood drops from the cats nostrils flew into the air and went splat on the cemented road outside.

The second dead cat was disposed. Let me stress on one point. The manner in which we disposed the bodies the previous night was much more respectful. Something just short of a 21 gun salute.

Appa: Ah, that was that.
Me: What happened? How come so many dead animals in our balcony suddenly? Is the house haunted? I bet it is! No wonder the landlord gave it to us for such a low price.
Appa: No sahib, no no! This house is not haunted. It is the best house in the colony.
Me: Then what happened here?
Appa: Well yesterday just before Vignesh sahib could come some cats were fighting. One male cat came and started fight. It must have killed the two cats. Lots of noise sahib. Even the ladies next door came to watch what was going on.
Me: They came to watch? Couldn’t they shoo the cats away?
Appa: What to do sahib? I am only a laundry man, if I tell them what to do, they will stop giving their clothes to me. The cats were fighting for quite a while. I think the male cat killed the other cats. The mother cat is still somewhere around.
Me: Hmm, that’s disgusting. Male cats tend to kill kittens which are not theirs, and are in their territory.

Appa leaves and then I start to put all the pieces together. Two dead cats, two dead mice. Mother cat alive. Male cat killed the cats. Cashew nuts. White liquid out of the first cats mouth. A paranoid Vignesh.

Okay, so here is what might have happened that gory night.
Mother cat and her two kid cats must have come across the two dead mice or must have caught and killed them. The mice must have been poisoned by our crazy neighbor, surely. Kid cats must’ve been enjoying the evening snack and spending some quality time with mother cat. Male cat arrives and realized that those two kid cats are not his. All hell breaks lose. Male cat starts a fight. Mother cat starts to defend the kid cats. One kid cat runs and hides under the water meter. Male cat grabs hold of the first kid cat’s neck. Mother who is not as big and strong as male cat is not able to defend her kid cat or do anything. Male cat’s jaw are too strong for the kid cat’s neck. Kid cat starts to choke. Male cat shifts his attention to the other kid cat. He grabs hold if its next and chokes it to death. The second kid cat dies under the water meter. Male cat for some reason decides to leave. The first kid cat chokes to death slowly. The poison from the mouse starts to take it’s effect too. Vignesh comes home to see the mess of a murder. Panics and calls me. I’m too engrossed with the glass of rum in front of me. I talk him into coming to Club 8 and drinking too, not knowing how bad the situation was. Vignesh, with his fetish for alcohol, caves in and comes to Club 8. Somewhere between then and 2 am, the first kid cat dies. Two mice and two cats are left dead.

Case solved.

And, here are photos of Dead Mouse #1, Dead Mouse #2 and Dead Cat #1. The photographs are blurred, but if you are one of those people who go eeeeeewwww for no reason at all, then you are warned.

Due to the graphic nature of this post, viewer discretion is advised. This post involves two dead cats, two dead mice and a paranoid tamil machaan named Vignesh Anand.

My phone buzzes.

Vignesh: Dude, there’s a cat in our balcony and I think it’s dying. Where are you?
Me (in my head): F*ck you man. Kill it. Make the weight on Mother Earth less by a few kilos.
Me (in reality): I’m at Club 8 man.

Club 8
The place everyone loves to hate. Nothing fancy about this place, just that play some good metal numbers and it’s shady to some extent. The pros: They play stuff like RATM, Nirvana, etc. Bad @$$ pro: Very, very close to our house. The cons: No chicks. Real bad @$$ con: Some Telugu annas sometimes start to dance. Really freaky, but very amusing. Lets leave the cons aside, coz anyway we just go there to abuse and have drinks with some good people.

Vignesh: You there?
Me: Yeah man.
Vignesh: What should I do? It’s breathing hard man. I think it’s gonna die soon.

Now you’d be wondering, why the hell does Vignesh have to call me to save a dying cat? Well to add some context, I’ve been the proud master of a female cat named Tommy and I was expected to play Superman in this situation.

Me: Give it some water. Or, just give it a slight tap on the back man.
Vignesh: Tried that, nothings happening. Actually, I was moving the bike back, but it was wasn’t budging, and then I realized the cat was behind the tire. I think I must’ve hurt it.

(Aha!!! Murderer!!!!!!!!)

Me: No man, don’t worry, the cat would’ve ran away the moment you touched the bike.
Vignesh: But what to do? It’s gonna die any moment! There are some cashew nuts in the house. Should I give it cashew nuts?
Me: I don’t think it’s gonna eat cashew nuts, but yeah you can give it some.
Vignesh: I’ll do that. But I really think it’s gonna die. What should I do.
Me: Come to Club 8, lets drink. The cat will probably go after a while.
Vignesh: Ok, I’m on my way.

Three minutes later he is at Club 8 and the drinks are on. Cheers!
From Club 8 we landed up at a colleagues place, indulged in some anti-social activities and once we were done we decided to head home around 2 am.

Open the main gate and, f*ck! Dead cat. Sh*t, f*ck this cat, couldn’t it have utilized the other 8 lives that it had or gone somewhere else and died? Bl**dy dead cat. Son of a b*tch cat.

So I go in an turn on the balcony light, and voila! Two dead mice on either side of the dead feline.

The badly screwed up crime scene
The dead cat was in the middle of the of the balcony. Near it’s mouth lay some cashew nuts. Yeah, cats don’t like ‘em nuts imported from Goa I guess. It’s neck had some puncture marks, but there was this liquid that had flown out of it’s mouth. But hard to say weather it had choked or it was poisoned. On it’s right, just at the foot of the stairs that lead to the terrace, was a dead mouse.

Dead mouse #1 looked like it had been choked and had it’s neck broken. It’s body was intact and in one piece, but yet it looked disgusting.

Dead mouse #2 was on the other side of the cat. This was one badly mutilated body. All that was left of it was its head, the backbone and the rear end of it’s body torn in a manner such that it was inside-out with the legs and tail facing the back of the skull. Very disgusting, hard to explain.

Vignesh: How do we dispose this stuff?
Me: Hmm.. dunno man. I think I’m high, lets do it tonight itself, else tomorrow morning when I wake up I won’t be able to do nothing.
Vignesh: Maybe we should toss a coin and the loser cleans the mess.
Me: Yeah amazing plan! Nobel award winning material you are. F*ck your plan, I’m going and getting a stick or something and we shall fling it out.

The front side of House #48, Hanuman Nagar Colony, faces an open deserted area, dedicated to disposal of waste by all the people of the colony. It also serves as a dumping spot for carcasses, and tonight we were gonna put it to some good use!

I walk around bout can’t find a stick. Just then my eyes fall upon a… oh wait, the manner in which we disposed the bodies would be considered ‘inhumane’ by a lot of people. Keeping that in mind I shall not document it. Lets just say that the 3 carcasses made it’s way into the deserted area with respect and some skills that would make Tiger Wood smile with appreciation.

Me: Alright, cool work man, high five!
Vignesh: Yeah, thank God. Hope I don’t get any nightmare with cats tonight.
Me: Screw the cats man.
Vignesh: Why do you abuse so much?
Me: Screw you too.
Vignesh: Goodnight machaan.
Me: Yeah.

And with that, the Tamil boy and the Goan boy go to their respective room and sleep.

What had happened that led to the death of the cat and mice? Was it Vignesh who ran over the cat with the bike? Was Vignesh the murderer? Why was it mentioned that there were two dead cats, but only one accounted for? How did this all happen? Will the readers get to see photos of the crime scene? Is Shiney Ahuja really ‘Bhai’-sexual?

For these answers, stay tuned for the next blog post! :D

Update: The Murder Mystery Solved is now up.

To begin,
Goan = Anything to do with my motherland, Goa.
Omelet = Omelet.
Pao = Loaf of bread.

The Goan Omelet Pao!

Now if you ever land to Goa, you would like to eat an omelet pao because (in order of preference)

1. It’s cheap.
2. It tastes amazing.
3. You get to meet friends.
4. Someone lands up sponsoring you omelet pao (high five!).
5. You get to check out chicks, as these omelet pao guys open shop at strategically placed junctions.

There are a variety of omelet paos that you could choose from, but I would suggest you go to the guy at the Mapusa taxi stand, not only because the stuff there tastes good, but also because that guy has employed human robots. More about them later.

Now for some omelet pao etiquette.

Rule #1: You do not, and I mean do not, eat omelet pao alone. You should always make sure you have company.

Me (on the phone): Hey, !@#$%^ lets go eat omelet pao.
Lesley (who stays like 3 kms away): Eh, wtf man, I’m watching TV. !@#$ off.
Me: !@#$ you man. Screw you. Just come. It’s on me.
Lesley: It’s the woman volleyball finals man.
Me: Screw them.
Lesley: I will.
Me: Are you coming or not?
Lesley: Parcel it and come to my place man.
Me: @!#$#(@$*#@$@#)%*&^&#(@$@#$ . !@#$ you man, I’ll eat alone. Lemme know who wins.

Srijay: Hello.
Me: !@#$%^ lets go eat omelet pao.
Srijay: !@#$ you man. I stay in Porvorim (which is like very far from where I or Lesley stays).
Me: Lesley is coming man. And we may go and play some Counter Strike too.
Srijay: Cool, I’m in. Where do we meet?
Me: Taxi stand, omelet pao.
Srijay: Okay.

Lesley: Hello.
Me: !@#$%^ I spoke to Srijay, he’s coming to Mapusa to play some Counter Striked. He said he wants to meet up and go beat some school boys in Dust 2 (a Counter Strike map).
Lesley: Where are we meeting?
Me: Taxi stand, omelet pao.
Lesley: Cool, will be there in 10 mins.

And, this is just one example on how you do not break Rule #1.

Rule #2: You always eat your omelet pao with the roas. Roas = Chicken curry.

You have the option of consuming your omelet pao without the roas, but if you are gonna do that, I suggest you’d might as well eat a newspaper. Besides, the newspaper would be 1/10 the price.

The essence of the omelet pao is lost if the curry is not allowed to create a thin slimey, juicy layer between the omelet and the pao. This being the primary tastemaker.

Thus, Rule #2 should not be broken, yet those who do so may be allowed to go unpunished.

Rule #3: Order some juice.

It should not come as a surprise that there always is a guy providing fresh juice right next to the omelet pao guy. This is the age old marketing technique that they do not teach you at MBA class. The juice guy provides the exact balance between hunger and thirst. Hunger being satisfied by the omelet, thirst being quenched by the juice. Now imagine eating a lovely omelet pao and then not having anything to drink. FAIL!

Rule #3 is not mandatory, but should be followed. So order some juice.

These are the 3 main rules that are to be adhered to when you venture out to eat your omelet pao.

Now back to the human robots. The means and speed of the delivery of you omelet pao is directly proportional to the experience of the human robots at the omelet pao stall. Older the human robot faster you get your omelet pao. Lets refer to these human robots as hubots. Hubots are of a special breed. They do not have something known as hand-eye coordination. Their eyes and hands function separately. They also use their mouths a lot primarily to pass on information from one hubot to another. They produce anywhere between 6 to 12 ready-to-consume omelet paos in a minute.

The way you acquire your omelet pao is as follows. You shout for your order. One hubot picks up the information and registers it. And signals that he has heard you and your order is on its way. What you do not notice and realize is that the rest of the hubots have also registered the same information and are already preparing your omelet pao.

The hubot precision of omelet pao preperation is unmatched. One hubot breaks a couple of eggs which land onto a massive frying pan. In seconds another hubot has had them fried. A third hubot busily cutting loaves of bread in the middle, suddenly puts his arm out with the pao, only to grab hold of an airborne omelet which slip right into the pao. This omelet pao then moves into the hand of another hubot who adds the roas and next thing you know your omelet pao is wrapped into a tissue and is handed to you by one of those mobile hubot.

The mobile hubots are the ones who make sure you enjoy your meal without having to go to the counter to place your order or have to watch the other hubots at work. The mobile hubot also get you juice from the jucie guy if required.

Next thing you do is bite into you omelet pao. Aah! Life is bliss! The Goan Omelet Pao!!!

Now you may be wondering what happened to Lesley, Srijay and me. Srijay who stays in Porvorim which is like 10 kms from Mapusa has to take one of the local buses, get down at the Mapusa bus stand and walk to the taxi stand which is right opposite the bus stand. I stay in Parra, so jump onto the so call ‘Beast of the Road’ aka the Honda Activa and ride 3 kms to the Mapusa taxi stand. Lesley, the lazy b*stard stays in Mapusa, 3 minutes away from the taxi stand. As protocol always an important part, Srijay reached first by default, I reach a few seconds after he arrives and Lesley, that moron never turns up on time.

Srijay: Where’s Lesley?
Me: Dunno man, he should be here anytime. (One mobile hubot catches my signal for two omlet paos).
Srijay (on pohone): Where the !@#$ are you man?
Lesley: Ah, I’ll leave now.
Me: He just left right? (Sirjay nods, our omelet paos are in our hands by now).

Lesley decides to show up after 3 minutes. On an average 30 omelet paos must have been produced by now.

Lesley (to Srijay): !@#$%^ what do you wanna game suddenly?
Srijay: Me? You are the one who came up with the idea.
Lesley: B*lls.
Me: Hey looks, hot chick man. Looks known, must be our junior.
Srijay: !@#$ you man, you are paying for our omelet paos.

Amen. Goan Omelet Paos!!!