We finally submitted our final exam which was seriously becoming an albatross hung around our neck. The format was weird. We had to form our own question, four of them in all and then answer them. How silly you might say but according to our professor it was his way of knowing whether we can teach him what we learned.Hmmm... we were pretty much going around in circles after that.

Anyways so what happened after that my two roomies and best friends Vishal and Nicholson(names kept the same in order to inflict as much publicity on them) decided to leave and join a training course in Chicago. Apparently the decision was taken on a whim and was conveyed to me in a similar manner while I was in office trying one of the cookies baked by one of the most beautiful girls at our workplace. Needless to say I choked on it and lost my only chance to praise that beauty....the cookie you nutheads.

And now I am living alone all by myself in a two bedroom apartment feeling cut off from the rest of the world. Friends for two years and vanished in a jiffy. But........I am HAPPY. Alright girls here is your cue ;) Welcome but maintain discretion, don't all arrive in a heap seeing an eligible guy alone

As I write this,I am completely in a state of shock as I have been viewing the live pictures from the terrorist attacks in Mumbai. It is downright ugly and even though I am sitting thousands of miles away, I am slightly shaking with fear.

I don't know why but somehow this attack feels different as if the perpetrators want to hammer in the message that you o' people of India, it is not safe enough for you to even walk on your own streets. This is indeed one of the saddest days in our history.

Saddest of all was to see my favourite hotel, The Taj , burning away. It was not the building on fire in my opinion but a page in history of this great city that was being reduced to ashes. I am too appalled right now to write anything more. Sometime later in the future I will write something about my fascination with Mumbai.

Let us show some solidarity countrymen. Jai Hind.

The best part about engagement and marriage parties is the food. Chand Palace in Parsippany has the best Indian food in NJ.

So one fine day Vishal, my roomie comes up to me and says he has to attend his cousin sister’s engagement which incidentally was at Chand Palace banquet hall, Parsippany.
‘So, what’s the problem’ I asked him
He said he needed a drive to the place since no public transit facilities are available, its almost 20 miles away (32 km for you metric maniacs). Actually there are buses but they are too infrequent to be taken seriously, besides he is too lazy. No, the fact was we were moving house, so we would be busy in the morning. He also informed me that his aunt had invited me, the driver for the day, to attend the event and have lunch as well. Like a fish, I took the bait and agreed to drive him there. After shifting we got into my new black Honda Civic(yes I am a show off), and drove west along I-280.

Eventually we reached there (2 hours late). Vishal introduced me to his relatives whose names I forgot as soon as I heard them. I congratulated his sister and her fiancée who seemed pretty happy giving their umpteenth smile even after seeing my uninvited face. I felt like a fool over there. There was a musical arrangement too where two singers were crooning melodies of yesteryear, those pyar-bhare nostalgic poetic moments like kabhi kabhi, yeh ladka hai allah, and many more. It was sad that no one was listening to them since they were doing a pretty decent job of it. They were to put in kind words ignored people. They were like the background noise as compared to the incessant felicitations and artificial smiles that the couple were receiving.

Then came the big announcement, lunch was served. Almost immediately, there was a sound of furniture dragged along the floor as people pushed their chairs backwards to get up from their seats and make a queue at the buffet table, me included. After all wasn’t that the only reason I was there? Vishal and I, took our plates, filled it up with more than we could manage. The mughlai paneer got mixed with the dum aloo and raita. The papad was sogged by the streams of unrelated gravies flowing left and right. There was Punjabi kadhi with biryani along with tawa fried veggies. It was a concoction so muddled that I at one point was dipping my nan into the kadhi infiltrated biryani thinking it was an exotic combination . I unabashedly gulped it all down with two full glasses of mango lassi. Delicious !!

The by now completely forgotten male singer announced that after lunch he would like all the people to assemble on the dance floor for a round of boogieing. Ironic I thought, as I saw a man with a belly as round as a barrel, walking towards his designated table with what I assumed, was his tenth plate of mughlai paneer. The hungry crowd couldn’t care less. I did manage to shake a leg(not to mention, a satiated stomach) but it wasn’t my cup of tea.

The party finally ended with the two singers officially declared extinct.We gave our customary greetings to the newly engaged couple and made our way out who were still trying to make out who the heck was this freeloader. Thanks Vishal.

The best part about engagement and marriage parties is the food. Chand Palace in Parsippany has the best Indian food in NJ. (Have I mentioned that before?)

The phenomenon is back, the full package, nasal twang and all inclusive.!! . Karzzzz is the story of Monty, a successful singer who has everything in life but happiness. He gets frequent hallucinations of some place if he plays a particular ‘high’ note on his guitar(Hmm, interesting, I get the same feeling when he starts singing). His doctor advises him to take a break, which he does(I wish he would in real life too) and goes off to Kenya. Surprise, Surprise it turns out to be the same place, he is been having dreams about. Seems he is the reincarnation of Ravi Verma, a businessman killed by his wife(Urmila) for his estate. The movie takes a familiar path of revenge, redemption and some point I seriously wish Monty(Himesh) meets the same fate as his previous embodiment. But we aren’t that lucky and are subjected to a dragged out drama.

Urmila looks old, the new heroine has no scope. Danny and his cohorts are alright. Gulshan Grover looks like he has just woken up or something and he plays a mute villain who punches garbage on something which looks like a mp3 player on his wrist.

The star of the show is undoubtedly Himesh Reshammiya. I haven’t seen the 1980 original starring Rishi Kapoor but I know Rishi Kapoor must have done a far better job. All the criticism notwithstanding, our man does admittedly put in a much better performance than his wooden act in Aap Ka Suroor. He sings, dances, romances and fights his way to exact his vengeance ( on Urmila or on us is your opinion). The songs are zany and the classic Kishore Kumar Ek Hasina Thi song has been badly rehashed. All in all, a predictable fare, you can afford to miss. Karzzzz is only zzzz…

My office has this PA(public address) system on which a sincere voice frequently calls out an employee’s name and instructs him/her to come to the reception or dial a number to get in touch with a customer or whoever. Maybe it was just me or the lunch I had just had (McD – u devil), the woman calls out “Don,…… Don Blackman, please call extension so and so. Well, nothing particularly wrong with that but it was just the tone, with a generous dose of romantic affection attached to it. As if she was asking rather coaxing him for a date or something. It helps that Don Blackman is the VP of marketing in our company and many women would like to share a cup of coffee and ‘other’ things with the guy. (he is married btw).

I just wonder, he being the VP and all with his decades of experience, gets so much respect, hypothetically speaking we would be treated like the pits. We as in I, who is a month old, new kid on the block, somebody calling my name would perhaps go like this

“Ray” in a malevolent voice “Ray, better drag your friggin’ ass to the reception on the double, come on " . Hmm so much for respect.