Patriotism Ki Maa Ki Aankh!

OK! Call me unpatriotic or whatever fuckin shit you want to. If you have no better use of that desi topi you bought last year, please book the nearest maidaan & start an 'India Against Aakaash' campaign right away... But if you ask me, I care a crocodile's ass for whatever you think of this post.

As some of you might know, Diego Maradona (needs no introduction), was in Kannur, Kerala this week. Lemme not waste time in giving you details of his visit you already know about from the TV, Newspapers and whatever! What bothered me outright was the footballer screaming "Indiaaaaaa.... Indiaaaaa" as the crowd cheered his name & went into a frenzy. I am not balled over at the hysteria of the poor Malayali crowd for a player of Maradona's stature. What irked me was the player's blazing ignorance in geography. I am not extolling my geographical genius here, but I am bloody well aware of where Maradona comes from. Of course, I must admit it is all thanks to my geography teacher Sindhu miss, who in her own inimitable tempting style taught my class how far the Andes mountain range spread. Sigh! Good 'ol days when she'd........ Oops! Sorry.... Drifted off topic :P

You don't hear me scream "South America.... South America!" when Argentina's playing right??? Bledddy Naaaaansense... Then why Mr. Maradona you shouting "Indiaaaa... Indiaaaaa" at the top of your lungs??? In case you didn't realize, a Karan Joharishly creepy but ultra magnanimous Malayali philanthropist called Bobby Chemmannur got you to this strange land of crazy football fanatics called Kerala... North Kerala or Malabar to be more specific. Kerala, in case you didn't know is a country in itself with its capital at Dubai, Washington D.C, Bangalore, Moon & everywhere else except Thiruvananthapuram (Trivandrum for those who've never used a tongue cleaner). So if you can't scream "Keralaaaaa... Kerala!" when you're here as a OUR guest... pardon my audaciousness, you can go fuck yourself somewhere in that area where Sindhu miss told me to shade darker (some big shit volcano I believe) on the Andes mountains. Thank you.


Sincerely,

A Bleddy yaangri Mallu.

The Story-teller & his Chatterbox

The master story-teller had no words to speak for the first time in his life as he stood in awe of the adorable chatterbox. Every word she spoke fell on him like tiny pear-shaped drops of summer-rain. He felt his body & soul getting drenched in the voluptuous magnificence of the rain that was now beginning to engulf him in its amative wrap. He fell on his knees & surrendered himself to the story she had to tell. For he had no doubt, it was the Greatest Love Story ever told!