Very uncool hinglish translations

“Naach na jaane aangan teda"
“Dance doesn’t know that the courtyard is slanting”

“Saale, main tera khoon pee jaoonga”
“Brother-In-Law, I will drink your blood”

"Bohot yaarana lagta hai"
“Lots of friendship is hitting”

“Ek macchar aadmi ko hijda bana sakta hai"
“One mosquito can turn man into eunuch”

“Doodh ka jala chaas bhi phook phook kar peeta hai”
“If burnt by milk, drink buttermilk also by blowing”

“Maine terah kya cheez bigada hai?”
“What are the thirteen things that have I spoilt?”

“Kala akshar bhains barabar"
“Black word is like buffalo”

“Yeh iss purey ilake ka dada hai”
“He is the grandfather of this whole area”

“Mooh mein Raam, bagal mein churi”
“Raam in the mouth, knife in the side”

“Iski biwi ekdum chikni hai”
“His wife is so slippery”

“Tu mera ek jhaat bhi banka nahi kar sakta”
“You cannot bend even one of my pubic hair”

“Dhobi ka kutta, na ghar ka, na ghat ka”
“Washerman’s dog, neither from house nor from riverfront”

“Kaam theek chal raha hai”
“Work is walking well”

“Khane mein kya hai?”
“What is there in the food?”

“Share baazar mein mere kaafi paise doob gaye”
“Lot of my money drowned in the Stock Market”

“Chirag taley andhera”
“Light under darkness”

“Aaj nakad, kal udhar”
“Give me cash today, I will give you loan tomorrow”

“Mujhe lagta hai ke tum iss sal pass ho jaogey”
“It is hitting to me that you will come near this year”

“Sar mundate hee ole pade”
“When you shave your head, there will be a hailstorm”

“Yahan garmiyon mein loo chalti hai"
“During summer, hot wave walks here”

“Ek kaali billi ne rasta kaat diya”
“One black cat has cut the road”

“Jis ki lathi, uss ki bhains"
“Whoever has got stick can take the buffalo”

“Abb pachtaye kya hot, jab chidiya chug gayi khet”
“Why are you repenting, when it is the sparrow who pecked the farm”

“Ghar ki murgi, dal barabar”
“Chicken in house is like lentil”

“Dal mein kuch kala hai”
“Inside the lentil, there is something black”

“Ghoda ghas se dosti karega toh khayega kya?”
"Will horse eat if he makes friendship with grass?”

“Waise, mein aaj kal Qatar mein rehta hoon”
“Like that, these days I live in queue”

Essential Fraud Mallu phrases

“Don’t play rolling rolling on the floor after falling down”
“Veeneduthunu urundu kalikkenda”


“Even one grass will not walk here”
“Ivide oru pullum nadakkula”


“You cannot do even one dry ginger”
“Ninikku oru chukkum cheyan pattula”


“He has no information”
“Iven oru viveravum illa”


“Why have you become a faceman and sitting there holding your muscle?”
“Enda avide monthakaran aayi musilum piddich irrikkunadu?”


“I will kill him, he called my father”
“Njan avane kollum, aven ente acchane vilichu”


“My gold boss, this won’t walk here”
“Ente ponnu saare, idu ivide nadakkula”


“She is a bottom breaker”
“Aval adi poli aanu”


“Will there be water beating in the party?”
“Partyil vellamadi indagumo?”


“Even if you give elephant, don’t give hope”
“Aana kodutthaum, aasha kodukaruth”

 “When a buffalo lift his tail, we know why it is”
“Kaala valu pokkiyal arayamello endina ennu”

“Let’s go, call two on his father and come”
"Vaa, avande thandakku randu vilichittu veram”

 “He is a garbage man”
“Avan aaal kacchara aanu”

“If crow takes bath, will it become a crane?”
“Kakka kulicchal kokku agumo?”

"I am thinking no, no, and you are climbing on head and jumping?”
“Venda venda ennu vijarikkumbol thalayil keyri tulluano?”

“Why are you simply taking the snake lying on fence and putting it on your shoulder?”
“Verudde endinanu, veliyil kadakkuna paambine edutu tholathu idunnadu?”

“Yesterday, in the party we fought and peeled”
“Innale partiyil addichu pollichu”

“For failing in market climbing on mother’s back”
“Angadiyil thotadinu ammayude porathu”

“No, don’t play near me”
“Venda, ente eduttu kallikkenda”

“Go grass!”
“Poda Pulle”

“Gave stick and got beating”
“Vadi kodutthu adi vaangi”

“Dog has licked my life”
“Ente jividam naya nakki”

Baba on Indian Cricket

Baba Bangali Kadak Guaranteewale, Chawl no 4, Behind Ram Bachan ka Tabela, Kurla (W), recommends the following five to improve India's overseas Cricket results:

1. All boys to wear 'Nazar Suraksha Kavach', which they should display prominently, especially while batting.
2. All boys (esp oldies) to have one capsule of 'Supractiv Complete Man' along with two tablespoons of 'Cinkara' during each drinks session
3. '3g Magnum' to be installed in each boy's tummy. This will increase their mileage by 37%, reduce emission by 45% and boost performance.
4. Offer sweets mixed with 'Jamalgota' to the opponent team before each match.
5. Visit Baba's Meditation and Relaxation Center at Deonar Bakra Mandi and deposit chanda of Rs.500/- or more to collect the guarantee card and to find out the fifth recommendation.

JAI HO BABA KADAK GUARANTEEWALE KI!!

THE HIGH FIVES

1. FIVE COMPLAINTS THAT INDIANS CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

• Vote for thugs (repeatedly) and then complain that they’ve looted the country.
• Throw garbage and plastic all around and then complain that our cities/trains are not as clean as the West.
• Eagerly wait for a Cricket series to begin and then complain that it was all waste of time.
• Watch every SRK movie on the big screen and then complain that it was utterly rubbish and total waste of money!
• Fill up with greasy heavy food till you burp and then complain that you have a big belly and an aching back.

2. FIVE THINGS THAT MALLUS CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

• Toddy/Brandy
• Rains
• Lungi
• Mallu food
• Hartal

3. FIVE THINGS THAT FRAUD MALLUS CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

• Mallu jokes
• Mallu food
• Gold
• 40days Annual Vacation to God’s Own Country
• Santosh Pandit and all other kootharas!

4. FIVE THINGS THAT GUJJUS CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

• Money, more money and even more money
• Gujju Snacks - Farsan, Khaman-Dhokla etc etc
• Mukhwas
• Roadside eating
• Garba/Dandiya

5. FIVE THINGS THAT MUMBAIKARS CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

• Mumbai Local
• Rainy Day Off
• Vada Pav/Misal Pav
• Office!
• Dance Bars

Coming for Lawn Tennis?

For the first time in my life, I woke up at 5:00AM on both days of the weekend. No, it was not to watch the third test at Perth.

After almost a month of lull, I and my tennis partner resumed our Lawn Tennis sessions. For over a month now, the Qatar Tennis Federation courts were out of bounds for us amateurs. Firstly because of the Arab Games and then the Qatar ExxonMobil Open. The good thing though, is that they have now redone the court flooring and have installed new benches, nets and a quiescent freezer in the new courts.

After two days and two hours of rigorous (at this age any activity other than which is done lying down is rigorous) tennis, I have realized two things:

• The fastest way to finish a game is by serving four straight aces.

• The second fastest is by serving eight faulty serves.

And here I am, proudly proclaiming that I and my partner can do both of them very effectively. Albeit our aces are not those fast and zippy ones that fly like a bullet and akin to what used to come out of Goran Ivanišević’s racquet. Our aces have a lazy flight and parabolic trajectory with its vertex high in the sky. The only reason why it becomes an ace is, because it ceases to bounce back with the same vigour. How could they? They are our balls. By the time they reach the other side of the court, there’s no vigour left at all!

Well, it’s not funny. Playing an hour of ultra-slow tennis can be very strenuous and demanding. For one, you have to look up straight in the sky (and sometimes straight into the sun, which can almost burn your eyes in this part of the world) and spot the ball among the birds and the many Qatar Airways aeroplanes.

It is just like trap shooting, but much more difficult. In trap shooting, you have to stand still in one position and shoot the target down. In this, one has put into use all known engineering ken. First estimate all the x, y, z’s whatever, then solve a complex parabolic equation, estimate the path and when all that’s done, walk slowly towards the impact point with your racquet held high. That’s not all. When all this is done, one has to estimate the bounce and the whole calculation exercise repeats.

I must’ve written my Engineering Maths exam three or four times before I cleared it, but frankly life was much easier then.

Well, it’s not these complex calculations that make our style of tennis so difficult; it’s the waiting. Imagine standing in middle of a tennis court with a racquet over your head, waiting an eon for the ball to drop. The worst however happens, when the ball lands right on top of my head and I am left with no option, but to whine “Opps! Wrong formulae! I should’ve taken my engineering subjects more seriously while in college”

And then, the pain turns excruciating when I’m reminded that I have paid an equivalent of Rs600/- per hour to play on this court, where just few days back the likes of Federer, Nadal and Tsonga practiced for free. For my partner, the rent (and pain) is almost double in his currency. He is from Pakistan.

All in all, this is a great way to work out, and I recommend all my ‘already forty’ and ‘soon to be forty’ year old friends to start playing this game. By the way, there are many advantages of playing ultra-slow tennis:

• You can actually see the ball! 

• Chances that you’ll get injured due to a speeding ball hitting you are tremendously low. 

• Your wife, who is equally slow in taking pictures can click you hitting (or trying to hit) a shot.

• The soles of your expensive branded tennis shoes will never wear out.

• No scampering around the court, so no chances of backaches or joint pain.

• You’ll hardly hit a shot or two, and so there’s no chance that you’ll get a tennis elbow.

• In an hour, you will hardly finish four games or so, and so there won’t be a winner/loser to declare. So no scope of disputes at all between you and your partner; although your countries may be one of the bitterest of enemies, you both end up staying friends forever!

• You can make yourself a ‘Players ID Card’ and use it to show off to your friends at work and the college alumni. Also point out to them that although you have a tummy (which makes you look like five months pregnant) you are actually very active and sports inclined. Who knows, like me you might end up getting at tennis racquet as a farewell gift.

So yeah, all of you are invited to join us in our quest to redefine Lawn Tennis. We play on weekends, (every Friday and Saturday) from 6:00AM to 7:00AM at the Khalifa Tennis Complex, Doha, Qatar.

And while you do, do bring your own tennis racquets. No need to bring your balls; that we have plenty!

☻

I hate the Goat King

I hate SRK. I hate that name. I hate a perfume by that name. I hate every brand that is associated with that name and I hate going to watch a movie with that name on the cast list.

My wife is a movie buff and loves this self proclaimed King, this despite his breaking her heart four times over the last four years. His movies OSO, RNBDJ, BB and MNIK were all pathetic and most disappointing for her, and I am astonished that despite all those atrocities he still continues to reside in her heart. I am sure that if I had done the same even once she’d have given me a black eye and asked me to take a walk. I hate him.

Well, I am not the only one who hates him. Alongside me stand many men and women of my generation, of which, some men hate him purely because they are jealous of his stardom. The others, like me hate him for various reasons.

For having the naivety to even dream of challenging The Big B. How could he even think of it? And when he fell down flat on his face with a dhobi pachad, what does he do? To prove that he is bigger, he runs to some nondescript town in Malaysia and buys himself some Knighthood. Shame. Shame.

For he is my Bhaijaan’s enemy; and he is responsible for sowing the initial seeds of rift between Bhaijaan and our ‘would have been Bhabijaans’. Because of him, to this day my Bhaijaan remains a bachelor. Sob sob.

For making fun of South Indian movies and southies in general with his rubbish ‘chatti patti’ dialogue in OSO.

For making a goat look bad on the movie screen.

For all those times that my sisters, (girl)friends and now wife drooled (and continue to drool) over him shamelessly every time that he appeared (and appears) on TV, starting from his Fauji days.

For doing whatever he did to The Dada of Indian Cricket.

For all those evenings that I fought with my wife after she hijacked the TV remote to watch recordings of his cheap comics as he played host to one of those petty cine awards nights.

For redefining the way the business of Cricket and Cinema is run in India and for showing to the masses that one can make profits even after coming last in a cricket tournament and by producing an utterly senseless movie.

For proving again and again and again that the masses are nothing but cattle, which can be directed to any direction that ‘he’ desires.

For all his friends who make worthless goods and who believe that they can sell that crap by just putting his picture over it.

For becoming the epitome of a ‘self made man’ and for reaching such dizzying heights that even my best friends are compelled to look up to him as their idol.

For trying to make inroads into my son’s heart with his marketing gimmicks and youtube promos.

And of late, for conniving with my wife and trying to convince me through my seven year old lad that his latest flick, the one on a computer game gone awry is indeed a movie worth a watch.

Yes, I hate this man. In fact, like most of my friends, I love to hate this man. So much that I am compelled to kick my lazy bum to go and watch Ra.One in the theatre; this after making myself cognizant of the fact that this is one movie which has received some of the worst reviews of all times.

Come Saturday, and I am taking my family to the City Centre Multiplex, and there, I plan to put my son through the ultimate test, which will decide whether he is different or just like all other Indians, one of the herd. He will have to choose between Ra.One, Real Steel, Lion King and Johnny English. My son loves heavy transformer like robots, cartoon movies and even Rowan Atkinson, and so I expect that he would not choose to watch Ra.One. But, even in the worst case if he does so, I’d have no regrets. For one, I know the Goat King would only end up breaking Tara’s heart for the fifth time, and in such a circumstance I’d be just more then eager to offer her a shoulder to cry. Secondly I’d be going in with a mind set to watch an ‘F’ grade movie. And either case it’d be a win-win for me. If the movie is bad, I’d have proved my point. If it turns out to be good, I‘d have had a good time. J

But whatever, in the end, I see only one winner, SRK.  

And that’s why I hate him so much. Because, even if you don’t love him, you cannot ignore him, you’ll still love to hate him. And that’s what he wants and gets; just your attention.

And the money? Forget it; that he knows how to make.

iDiot on iPad.

Jay had just come back from a hectic workshop conducted to turnaround one of the troubled projects that he was working on. He entered his office cubicle, dumped his register, lazily walked to the kitchen and started to make himself a cup of tea. As he stood there for the water to boil, he stretched out his arms wide, and let out a groan. He was tired and frustrated.

He was frustrated on his Chinese Contractor’s engineers who would just nod their heads and reply “Yes Yes” to every instruction that he passed on, and yet in the end keep doing all the best that was in their hand to procrastinate work on some or the other pretext. He was frustrated on his Boss, a sexaholic  sexagenarian, who although present in the workshop, shied away from taking any decision at all, and rather spent all his time focussed on his latest obsession of playing Angry Birds on his IPad while intermittently checking on the playboy website.

Jay was tired. He hadn’t had a wink of sleep last night. He had worked the whole night developing a detailed proposal, which would turnaround this project, however his Boss did not bother to pay attention to it, and his Contractor, who although seemed to pay attention and agreed to all his suggestions, which was merely out of hierarchical respect, did not seem to grasp anything.

Jay walked out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in his right hand while massaging his eyes with a small bottle of chilled water with his left. Back in his cubicle, he dumped those on his table and slouched on to his revolving chair, kicking it sideways. He was done for the day. After twenty years of working on projects all over the world and in multicultural work environments, he was now beginning to feel the heat. All he wanted to do was to pack his laptop and head home, where he could do something worthwhile, like having a drink or sleeping or playing with his kids. Sadly, it was just 4:00PM, and a hour of office time had to be, but endured. He was in no mood to do any further work, and so shut off all his work related files and logged on to his favourite socializing website, FB. Little did he know that entertainment was waiting his way.

No sooner did he log on to FB, a little chat window appeared on the bottom of his screen. It was a message from Lolo. Lolo is a thirteen year old girl suffering from the pangs of preadolescence. Lolo is Jay’s distant relative.  She resides in a small town in India, some 3500kms away from where Jay is currently based. Her father Cello, who is also Jay’s second cousin, makes millions trading in the Spices Exchange. Needless to mention, she is a rich daughter, and like all girls of that age and background she thinks big, likes sporty cars, older men, dark chocolate and is in love with her iPad, which she loves to flaunt and talk about. She attends high school, and for her age she is pretty tall, which has conned her to believe that she can aspire to become a model. She is a simple girl with little dreams. Her plans are to become a supermodel at the age of sixteen and win the Miss World crown by nineteen. She would then like to act in Bollywood movies, and yes, when she does that, she’d be very choosy about the script, her co-actors and would not do any revealing scenes unless the script absolutely demands it. She is also possibly the biggest fan of a certain mallu film star called Prithvirajappan.  Well, if we base on the last chat that Jay had with Lolo on FB, Lolo was unable to decide whom she likes more, whether if it was Prithvirajappan or SRK or Justin Beiber. Anyways, this is how their chat went about:

Lolo:   Hai lng tym no c?

Jay:     Hi! How are you? Didn’t see you around for a long time now. Everything okay?

Lolo:   Yea lng tym. Ma Comps dead. Nt on lyn. Cudnt tlk. Coz me stk wid ma stupid ipad.

Jay:     Why so? Did you not get a sim card for your IPad?

Lolo:   Wht. Rly? U cnt hve a sim 4 IPad

Jay:     Tell me which version are you using?

Lolo:   Androids

Jay:     Really?

Lolo:   Yea

Jay:     I am using the latest one. It has got a slot for sim card and an SLR camera option as well.

Lolo:   u crious?

Jay:     Pretty serious. Hmmm….. let me guess, you must be using the Indian version right? Where did you buy it from?

Lolo:   Chyn

Jay:     You mean China?

Lolo:   Yea

Jay:     Then it must not be an iPad. Must be some duplicate stuff. I must say these Chinese guys are very good at making fakes.

Lolo:   Hey, its ipad.

Jay:     Really? Who brought it?

Lolo:   ma dads frnd

Jay:     Oh no! And how much did he pay for it?

Lolo:   dunno lyk myb lots

            me tnk 4000

Jay:     You said 4000 rupees?

Lolo:   Yea

Jay:     Oh my God. I got mine for $1500. That’s around 75000 rupees. You got cheated girl. Is it an iPad or iPod. I think yours must be an iPod.

Lolo:   ipad ipad ipad

Jay:     Check the box. What does it say? iPad or iPod

Jay waits for a reply from Lolo and goes on to sip his tea while checking his wall on FB. After some ten odd minutes they commence the chatting.

Lolo:   I chkd. It ipad

Jay:     Poor girl. I can only sympathise with you.

       Tell me, does your iPad have a big screen that’s like half the size of the your computer screen? Does it?

Lolo:   yea

Jay:     Then it must be something like an iPad. But I am sure it’s fake.

            Tell me, what all can your iPad do?

Lolo:   all that urs cn do n mor

Jay:     Does yours have mirror option?

Lolo:   whts dat?

Jay:     It’s called the iMirror app. When I run that app my iPad screen becomes like a mirror and I can actually see my reflection in it. It’s cool. A must for women I must say.

            Doesn’t yours have it?

Lolo:   Yea, me hv it 2

Jay:     Great. Did you download the 3D app

Lolo:   wat?

Jay:     Well, with the 3D app you can convert any movie into a 3D movie. It’s a special technology called image overlaying. All you require is 3D glasses and you have a 3D movie. I even have an iProjector.

Lolo:   wat dat?

Jay:     Well, it’s a projector which you have to just connect to your original iPad and it would project the image on to a wall or a screen. The real movie experience you see! And the great thing is that I can even project 3D images from it. HD quality.

Lolo:   Uh?

Jay:     Actually, since mine is connected to the net through a sim card, I have booked myself for the premier show of Ra.1 on netflix and will be watching 3D of it on the release date.

Lolo:   I thnk, gt sum wrk. Gt to go.

Jay:     Okay. Is your dad back from work already?

Lolo:   nop bad trfic cums late

Jay:     Oh that reminds me of an incident that took place few days back.

Lolo:   wat?

Jay:     The other day, I was with my friend in his big GMC and we were stuck in traffic. You know what he did?

Lolo:   wat?

Jay:     He took out his iPad, fixed the iWings and converted it into an iHelicopter. He then opened the sunroof and sent it out, controlling it with his iRemote. The iPad flew over traffic and took videos, which he then emailed to the Traffic Authority’s website. In no time the police came and cleared the traffic.

            Your dad could do something like that.

            But then, you guys are stuck on that fake Chinese thing. Shucks.

Lolo:   me no blv dis. u lyin

Jay:     Ahh! Why should I lie? Cmon!

Lolo:   u lier….. stop it.

Jay:    Do you know, that I use mine to even monitor my Blood Pressure and Sugar levels.

           There’s a small gadget that we’ve just got to tie on our thigh. It’s called iMonitor and it gives out accurate readings of my Blood Pressure and Blood Sugar too, without drawing any blood.

Lolo:   really?

Jay:    In fact, the one that I’ve brought is a bit advanced. It came with the iLoo attachment, which can with an accuracy of one minute tell me as to when I’d feel like going to pee or potty. And my iPad would further give me the exact co-ordinates of the nearest loo. Isn’t that great?

           Once a week it would also tell me the quantity I’d shit and the amount of water I’d require to flush it.

Lolo:   eek yukk! U filthy … chee…

Jay:     If you don’t have the real iPad, ask your Dad to get one.

Lolo:   ma ipad s real

Jay:     Doesn’t look like. Did you get it from a Stationery Shop?

Lolo:   Yea

Jay:     I got mine from a Computer Shop. I think you should do that too.

Lolo:   ma ipad is real

Jay:     Oh c’mon. I think your Dad got you a digital scribbling pad and fooled you.

            You know, my iPad is so so fast that it has come with extra rubber on the bottom.

Lolo:   shut up nw bcos u lyin

            dis is too mch criously

            u filthy fella

            i no u gt no ipad and i no need ur adv

            me going

Lolo went offline with a heavy head and enough tensions that could spoil the remainder of her week. She logged off after typing her range of expletives, swearing for the nth time that she would never ever again chat with this man.

Jay checked his watch with a naughty smile on his face. It was 5:00PM and he had just accomplished what he wanted. He was light again. He packed his bag and left for home. As he drove back home humming on to his favourite song, he hoped his little friend had learnt her lesson: “Never argue with idiots; they'll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience”