Benefits of Morning Walk /Jogging /Running

I am growing old. Tell tale signs – gray here gray there, receding hairline, bags under eyes, fine visible lines, lack luster skin, almost rotund appearance etc. Do I need to explain more?

The other day, I woke up to the fact that if I can’t make much of a difference to these cosmetic changes unless I have money to burn, let me try to ensure that my machine continues to run. Run – that’s the word, I decided to run each day. I was in bed  and I visualized myself running at the speed of light leaving the lesser mortals and their motors behind without breaking into sweat and then the scene shifted to fitter and sexy me in the best of fashion and I saw people green with envy. I couldn’t resist the dream, it made me jump out of bed into my sneakers and I hit the road. I ran at first and then gradually jogged and finally my machine came to a grinding halt and I was sweating and panting profusely. I had barely ran a mile. To avoid fellow joggers stare and snigger, I  took to mild stretched immediately and then laboriously walked back home with shattered dreams and aching legs. I have wiped out the dream from my memory but still harbour the desire to run. I  have set an achievable target for myself – a mile a day.

Benefits of Morning Walk /Jogging /Running:

1. It prepares you for Walk The Talk. (Anything could happen tomorrow)

2. You  are better equipped than your neighbour  to run and save your life.

3. You could out smart the mongrels when you  encounter then in the dark alleys.

4. Me time – away for the nagging wife and noisy brothers and sisters and complaining parents.

5. Makes you feel better to see many hapless souls trying to lose what they happily gained with that second helping.

Tea, Coffee & Mom

I do not remember when I first tasted tea but I do remember my mom trying her level best to wean me away from it. The old trick – dude you would look like what is in the cup didn’t work for me. I didn’t have affinity to milk at all. My mom had ample supply of it from the Jersey cows which she reared but alas! I was no taker for their milk. I would run away, hide, fake being unwell etc. from that glass of milk. But what I remember most was the involuntary tumbling of the milk glass followed by sever scolding and the compulsory spanking. It almost happened daily and I have a strong belief that it was the milk fiend; he didn’t like my attitude towards milk and to teach me a lesson would tumble the tumbler. I had absolutely no hand in it and before I would react or offer explanation my mom’s wrath and fury would have taken over.

Then she gave up. And I was fed nectar of tea leaves, sweetened just right with a hint of milk. I didn’t mind her warning that I would grow weak and small which unfortunately turned true. I have to confess that I have tried quite a variants (white/green/oolong/tisane) but  I come back to the good old intensely sweetened overcooked tea leaves sometimes flavored with ginger/cardamon/cloves/cinnamon etc. I never cared for health benefits of tea and still don’t, I just love if for the thing it do to me.

Somewhere along I discovered coffee. I for a while liked it better then tea and started demanding it. Mom was happy initially as it had milk but she happen to read/hear that it is not good for health – she confused caffeine with nicotine and its supply was limited thereafter. But my love for coffee brewed more through the college days. Today, I swing between the regular cappuccinos, espresso and the exotic ones which I can’t even pronounce.

I have always found it difficult to choose when given a choice. Coffee or Tea and I always end up making a wrong choice and then cringe all along looking at the other person’s drink and sipping regretful what I choose. I am not definitely absolutely a coffee or tea lover – my loyalty sway.

I only have ONE rule – Coffee on dates and Tea at home .

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No Sweat

Another beautiful Sunday spoiled. It’s in the real sense of HOT, please don’t misconstrue HOT for zany, snazzy, lively, sexy and whatever adjective one might use to describe an extraordinary time. The mercury is touching 44 C and inching upwards each day.

I started my day early at 7 hoping to catch some cold breeze while I read newspaper and breakfast. I was in sweat from the heat then the spicy breakfast my grumbling mom made for me; her mood seems to be in sync with the weather these days. And by 8, I wanted to run away somewhere cold and never look back. My old air con seems to be inept in countering the heat (I do not blame him) and my finances don’t even allow me to but a new handkerchief – excuse me, let me wipe off the sweat. The coolers are no longer coolants and the heat is getting into my head – I am loosing my cool.

Wonder why nobody is using the phrase No Sweat anymore.

(The HOT picture has been borrowed from the internet. © who cares)

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Go fly a kite!

Ouch! It’s a rushed one. Yes, I plan to do away with it in flat 5 min and dash off. I still have 4 more. I am very sure what I want to write about; it about me – the landlubber. My brother say that I have a magnet in me that keeps me grounded – I have never flown. Though I have tried the old trick of jumping off the walls and roofs but have met with the fate millions have met. We humans can’t fly that the reason why we pay thousands for airfare. I have another 3 min. I am little pissed and I feel its okay to use the word ‘pissed’ to describe one frustration with the elitism and the attitude of the high fliers. Attitude! where did they learn to talk like that. The unexpected nemesis ‘Ash Cloud’ has grounded many like me. Ha ha… now who is laughing. I am done. Oh! I still have 20 sec left. Before I fly… cheerio!

(The stupid picture has been filched from internet. What were you thinking AS****#)

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It’s Not Funny BOSS

It has been a while since I wrote something and then I read someone lament about the slow death that his blog was going through; it woke me up from my stupor and complacency (no writer’s block, pure ennui). Let’s see if I can string some pearls of humorous tid bits today (though I am not too hopeful).

There is nothing normal about my life these days. Its topsy-turvy and I can’t figure why. I have never been so busy yet so free in my head. I run to office and then I run back and the next day I run back and in between I eat and sleep and yes sometime at work I do take a breather and the cycle continues. I am stuck and I can’t run too fast and far.

I am unable to unlock the secret of this mysterious situation. I thought food would assuage it, tried binging – no luck (I feel a bit fat). Tried finding solace in sports and soaps – failed, them I have also tried watching almost all the Oscar winning movies to keep with the latest in the movie business and get the zing but still feel parched (and depressed). Ahh… the search is still on. Being a teetotaler is difficult.

What is it that could help me?  The answer my friend is a clever joke.

1) A linguistics professor was lecturing his class one day.

‘In English’, he said, ‘A double negative forms a positive. In some languages, though, such as Russian, a double negative is still a negative. However, there is no language wherein a double positive can form a negative.’

A loud voice from the back of the room piped up, ‘Yeah, right.’

2) Robert went to his lawyer and said, ‘I would like to make a will but I don’t know exactly how to go about it.’ The lawyer smiled at Robert and replied, ‘Not a problem, leave it all to me.’

Robert looked somewhat upset and said, ‘Well, I knew you were going to take a big portion, but I would like to leave a little to my family too!’

3) A policeman spotted a jay walker and decided to challenge him, ‘Why are you trying to cross here when there’s a zebra crossing only 20 meters away?’

‘Well,’ replied the jay walker, ‘I hope it’s having better luck than me.

4) Two lawyers arrive at the pub and ordered a couple of drinks. They then take sandwiches from their briefcases and began to eat.

Seeing this, the angry publican approaches them and says, ‘Excuse me, but you cannot eat your own sandwiches in here!’

The two look at each other, shrug and exchange sandwiches.

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Anyone Can Cook (eggs)

I wanted to be a chef 10 years ago, not just a chef but the greatest chef. I idolized Gordon Ramsay of the Hell’s Kitchen fame (though there was no Hell’s Kitchen then) and asked frequently for Escoffier’s blessings. I could differentiate my consommé from the other clear soups and could rattle off the names of the french mother sauces and their derivatives and come up with a quick menu in no time; let me pause for a quick breath here.

Things have changes since then; now I am just a plain egg cook (not even a chef). I see changes in myself too; starting from appearance to my outlook (pun intended). Nobody knows this has been an extraordinary year for me (how would anyone know until I shout). I have stopped doing extra and ordinary work completely at home and at work place also. I spend less time in office, less time eating, less time sleeping and more traveling, talking and dreaming.

After a recent visit to see my brother, the dormant chef in me seems to have awakened (I helped fix dinner for his house warming party). Since then I have being doing rounds of the stores in town for the appropriate (read unnecessary expensive) kitchen tools and utensils to satisfy my culinary and gourmet aspiration. The other day, I nearly bought a knife set work Rs/-12,000 – don’t sigh there were more expensive one too.

Today, I tried cooking biryani needless to say it turned out a better and improved version of the pullav (What were you thinking? I am more than a decent cook.). And en route to office, I even conjured up images of myself doing the best of food.

Let’s see what I am good at.

- Tea (nobody can make better than me)
- Coffee (quick fix in 2 mines)
- Eggs (my repertoire range from scramble to sunny side up)
- Pullav (most of the times it turns out to be finger licking good)
- Maggi (trust me, it requires special skills to conjure the right kind – not too soupy not too dry)

What would be my next step..

1. Read and compare recipes
2. Try the best of recipes and improvise
3. Throw a lunch for unsuspecting friends
4. Standardize the recipe after few of these lunch trials
5. Share the recipe with friends and family
6. Volunteer to cook for them on special occasions
7. Get rated and evaluated
8. Walk around with air

But then when do I get to eat and relish the good food?; maybe never.
Stop chef stop.

Bye bye dream. I am happy being an egg cook.

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Please Interview Me

Everybody fears interviews. Ask anyone that they would be interviewed and you could see tiny beads of sweat appear gently on their forehead in the freezing cold winter making it glisten more brightly than the morning sun. And if it happens to be a job interview some even have to remove their pullover (it’s getting hot in hear).
But being on the other side of the table is equally difficult.

A tid bit from one of the interview.

Who is your favourite author?
-I do not read books.

Would you like to see Rahul Gandhi as your next PM.
-No comments.

Your favourite movie star.
-I have none.

Talk about your city.
-I was not born here.

Why you here?
-For the interview.

Why you interested in this job?
-I am not interested, I just want to experience an interview.

What would you do with the experience?
-Use it in the next interview.

Thankyou for interviewing me.

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Happy V’Day – Love Birds

A zoo is a place for animals. That’s what I always thought until my visit to a small zoo (name omitted for obvious reasons). I had to kill time and was excite at the prospect of visiting a zoo in 20 years; last I visited a zoo was when I was 10.

I asked the hotel to pack sandwiches (did I mention they charged me a bomb) and off I went. After haggling a bit with the auto driver for the fare (it always helps), I set out. It was a bright sunny day; perfect for a zoo visit. I was dropped just beside the gate which proudly announced the ZOO. I stepped in and was greeted by concrete monkeys jeering at me; I learn later why they were jeering. I ignored them and bought my ticket and declared the stuff I had in the bag and deposited the plastic bags with them.

The beautiful flamingos greeted me as I steeped in, then the goose and then the pheasant and many more caged birds. Did I mention a languor even tried to rough me when he felt I had something in my pocket and was saving it for some other animal – that made me cautious and I dared not take my hands out post that incident.

The Zoo announced to have 55 odd animals (not too big a zoo, I thought) and during my 3 hrs stay there, I spotted at least 65 odd canoodling couples. Most looked hungry and starved; I bumped into them on every turn and every good shady spot. They would stop whatever they were doing when I would approach and start again when I passed them. I wanted one to click me in the zoo and I offered my camera, the bloke was taken aback and asked do I want to click them (duffer the camera is in your hand). I politely said ‘no, please click me’ (he did a really bad job with the pic).

I didn’t know the zoo attracted so many love birds. Maybe the place gave them a perfect place to meet, amid grunts of rhino, growl of the lion, chirping of the birds and the shades of the trees. They not only distracted me but the animals too; I could see two monkey expressing their disgust. Plus some kept the zoo keeper busy to remind them to behave.

I felt I should leave the love birds and the animals alone. I found a quite spot under the shady tree, had my sandwich and napped. After my fill of sleep I walked out a disappointed man and again I was met up by the concrete monkeys. Now I know why they were jeering.

Happy V’Day.

P.S: Zoo is not too bad a place to spend time with ones beloved though. 

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My Name Is ‘Kumar’

My name is Vijay Kumar, call me Vijay. I have no idea where I live but if you ask me my gender and age, I can help you with the information (let me pull that wretched ticket).

My train was late last night by 10 hours. Don’t gasp, it’s pretty common in this part of the world. Someone (not too intelligent) has said in jest if humans can be late why can’t the train?. You definitely have a point mister.

So, I was stranded. The curious travelers gasped and empathised and then the unwarranted advises started flowing. Some accused me for mindlessly booking on a this train (they say it is never on time), one even accused me of traveling in first class and then there were some who offered to help but they couldn’t look for that someones number (I was hoping it was not that someone who I mentioned at the beginning) through the phone directory who could help.

I had to sneak into any train, I have had a rough day and over it this. I was prepared to travel any class even on a general ticket – with it you have the right to get on the train into the general compartment but in all probability one would either be standing and if lucky would get some inches to squat no and then (what more could you get for Rs/- 100). I had been away for 3 days and missed home; I wanted to be home in the morning and in my cozy bed.

I dragged my luggage and looked around for some help. I ran to the reservation counter but got a little confused with the counters (they say a lot and do little), I asked an unassuming old porter where I could get my general ticket. He casually asked me where I am traveling to and his next question was do you need a ticket – my eyes lit up. Of course! he took me outside and under the rain shelter his partner flashed a wad of ticket. He handed me one it had sex as M and age 27 on it and its was a sleeper class ticket. I paid him almost twice the price of ticket but I was happy that I would be home in the morning.

The adventure starts picking speed now. I rushed back to the platform and waived the ticket to the fellows who had suggested me to get a general one. They couldn’t believe I had a real confirmed ticket (most were jealous). My first task was to find out what would my name be for this journey. I only had a part of my identity (sex and age) but that’s not enough sometime (some of the ticket checkers try to make their jobs interesting by asking some personal questions and quizzing the travelers).

Thirty mins before the departure time they put up the list of the traveling passenger. There I was, but not as Kamal Sharma but Vijay Kumar. My name was to be Vijay Kumar for this journey. I memorized it and practiced introducing myself as Vijay.

Sweat broke down my forehead as I recalled a T.V advert of the 80′s where one traveler was pretending to be ‘Praveen Chadda‘ and traveling on someones ticket. He had to face humiliation and not to mention a hefty fine. It played in my head over and over again. I visualized myself fumbling when the checker would look at me and try to match the details (I even had a plan B if I was asked to deboard the train). I prepared my excuse statements and rehearsed them well (just in case) – my great grandfather is unwell and would breath his last any moment, I have an exam – ‘mera career ka sawal hai‘ etc.

I looked upwards and shot a small prayer to the almighty to save me (if everything fails). The train chugged along noisily and after about 30 nervous minutes a lanky kid of about 25 asked me for my ticket. Before he could ask anything, I diverted his attention to the broken window and the loose latch and mildly complained. He muttered some acknowledgments and handed the ticket back to me. As he passed me I heaved a sigh of relief. Finally I smiled, it was a smile of triumph and victory but more of a relief.

Caution : Never travel on someones else ticket, it’s a punishable crime; unless you like trouble and excitement.

catch it @ http://myblog-kamalsharma.blogspot.com/

If you not on Facebook, I do not know you.

I have always loathed (read feared) joining any group(s) or anything social which involves introducing oneself and making intelligent and proper conversations (I completely lack in this skill). I have been shouting all this while ‘I do not want no thought control’, but I might have to admit, I have missed meeting some nice people (and shining in their company). Remember the old adage, if you don’t have your own light steal some (I just made it up – hope you like it). Let’s move on.

Lately, I am hooked to Facebook (if you are not on FB please do me a favor and click on the cross sign on the top right corner of your screen). Call me snob but the only people who are going to read this post have to be on FB.

All my waking hours (I hardly sleep at home and make up for the loss in office) is spend checking and finding if any of my friend has uploaded a nice picture or written something on the wall – it gives a perfect reason to connect and bond over common things (and make up for the stupidity that I did all my life until last month when I discovered FB). I feel purged now. Thanks FB.

On last count, I have 48 friends, 61 friend requests, 6 friends suggestion and 5 group invitation. So much for being on FB (‘I am not alone, you listening’ – this one is for my ex ex GF). GF is short for girlfriend (don’t assume it to be some sister site of FB). If you didn’t know what GF is, I would request you to click on the cross sign on the top right of this page. Call me prig.

Just like we choose our friends carefully in the real world we should be careful who is on our friend list on FB (and also who is reading our blog post.)

Some stellar tips for the newbies (advisory – follow on your own peril).

- Keep your boss and your subordinate out of your friend list (why do you want them to know what you doing this evening?)

- Only add colleagues who have a common objective (ready enemy – the good old boss)

- Put the best of your pictures clicked at the most exotic locales and most expensive spots (for obvious reasons)

- Never have your ex or current on your friend list (do I need to explain this also to you. Could you please look for the cross sign on…)

- Comment only on pictures where people have left their comments (to let them know you have same if not better taste)

- In comments always mention or suggest a better beach, restaurant, holiday spot etc. (shows you are not less travelled then them)

- And when you get busted simply choose the virtual death (delete your profile)

If you have persisted reading this post you could leave a comment with your name and email, I would like to see you in my friend list on FB.

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