“A friend cannot be considered a friend unless he is tested on three occasions: in time of need, behind your back and after your death.”
Ali (A.S.)
Allahumal’an Qatalatal Ameer-ul-Momineen Ali Ibne Abi Talib (A.S.)!
Tum Karo To Chamatkaar… 2
Wednesday, May 6th, 2009Almost one week later, things are no brighter.
Apparently on Monday, Mr. Senior Manager of Forde…err…For…uh…whatever, decided to complement Mr. Manager’s terrorizing effect on my sister by dropping in unannounced and asking her why she was late. Which in turn led to me being the target of frustration of the whole family, as always.
On Tuesday, she announced that her new leaving time would be 8:15 am, not 8:45 am. When my mom tried to wake me up at 7 am, I decided, in my sleep, to go to office by myself in hopes that the car would be back by 9 am. Ain’t the first time I was wrong.
As expected, both her Manager and Senior Manager don’t mind twenty minutes of make-up and other uselessly wasteful stuff. I woke up at eight, only to find her in the bathroom. Later on, when I was in the bathroom, she announced that she would leave after eight-thirty as one liability on her had been killed by my selfless decision to go by myself.
I got ready around 9:45 am, and my grandfather dropped me off. I was more than late but I could afford it as my bosses were busy with their exhibit at the ITConnect Expo.
As my luck has had it multiple times, another was no surprise: Mr. Senior Manager failed to show up. He postponed his visit by one day to…yes….today. The whole world wants to see me miserable.
My sister left this morning, again at “8:15 am”. And I being the smartest and most agile guy in the world, got ready at ten. Thinking that everything was going fine, I got out of the shower only to be verbally clobbered by my mom with a lecture on punctuality.
Got into a fight with her and after watching all my counterattacks being gunned down by her ultrasonic comebacks, I resorted to the last tactic in my arsenal: self-annihilation!
Well, not exactly. You wouldn’t call “refusing to eat breakfast” that.
This tactic worked, until she decided to use her last one as well: Call Daddy!
I fought valiantly, like a brave soldier to the last drop of my willpower and resisted the temptation of omelette and toast but her last attack made me shit my pants.
You won the battle mom, but you ain’t winnin’ the war: Daddy ain’t always home!
Now I’m sitting in office, feeling luckier than ever after being informed that Mr. Boss was inquiring into our arrival timings in the morning before leaving for the exhibit.
Someone kill me please!
The Origin of SAWJ
Saturday, December 27th, 2008This may be the last of cheerful posts for a while as hopefully Muharram starts on Monday and then I’ll be running Zakir Naik’s ass all over the place, as promised to someone. 
And I’ve quit smoking so be happy guys! 
And be happy too that the Los Angeles Lakers brought the 19-game winning streak of the Boston Celtics to a halt on Christmas. Yippee-kaiyeay (find rest of the sentence at the end of any Die-Hard movie)! 
*****
I’ve always been one of those guys who wanted to be cool. At times, I would try and make cool things out of my name. One of them was summing up my initials to see what they formed, i.e., SAWJ.
But I wasn’t happy with it then. I mean, it does sound cheesy. 
Khair, I was on a similar mission during my Intermediate years, trying to make something cool out of it. And then I discovered that SAWJ could be distorted to sound “savage”.
So I made an email address as lethallysawj@hotmail.com and asked all my friends to pronounce it lethallysavage@hotmail.com. But friends can be real assholes and they did the exact opposite. They started teasing me by the name SAWJ.
As time passed, I actually started to like it. It was unique and it did give me a sense of closeness to my friends. And now I’ve become used to it. Almost all the dudes call me that now.
Now, I am…SAWJ!
But that don’t mean I don’t like my real and full names. Because they are my identity. My pride. Hell, if I tell you guys the real meaning of my first name, you will all call me a heretic and send a suicide bomber over.
SAWJ also acts as a cover for my real name, a box which protects the valuables.
*****
Cheesy post? Sorry!
*****
UPDATE: I forgot to write this.
My new jacket has been acting as my second skin these days. I wear it all the time, everyone’s praised it and it’s very cool! Cost me 3000 ruppees and my father was well-beyond angry. I saw a leather jacket at the shop too, made of sheep-skin and still smelling of sheep. It was 6000 ruppees! Had I bought that, my father would’ve made a jacket out of SAWJ-skin!
MSN Astrology Don’t Know When To Quit
Wednesday, December 24th, 2008Your horoscope for December 24, 2008
The romance in the air is palpable. Women can’t seem to keep their eyes (or hands!) off of you today. Maybe it’s that new cologne you’re wearing, or your warm and generous demeanor. Don’t discount their advances as idle flirtations. One woman, in particular, is quite serious. If you’re already in a committed relationship, spend some one-on-one time together tonight.
Can somebody please hack them?
Love Is Like Constipation
Monday, December 22nd, 2008
Constipation is like when you want to poop but can’t.
Love is like when you want to say it but can’t.
When you’re bold and timid at the same time.
When you feel hungry but can’t eat.
When your mind tells you to forget her yet there is a small voice that keeps reminding you of her.
When you actually like being depressed.
When you’re hurt and pleased at the same time.
When there is a head on collision between your heart and your brain, and the heart survives.
When you keep hoping for the slightest chance…the slightest chance of…
Hell, love is worse than constipation!
Based on past experiences and…
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