#LetsUpvaas because everything is banned

After the heart-breaking ban on Maggi, and the logic-defying ban on beef, a master at exaggeration and relatively unemployed BJP legislator Ramesh Arora, (in his attempt to seem important) has now asked for a ban on the national dish of Shahdara: Momos. He has based his idea on the fact that Momos contain monosodium glutamate, aka ajinomoto, which is an addictive, carcinogenic chemical. Now, to prevent ajinomoto from causing cancer in humans, there were multiple options:

1. Ban production and usage of ajinomoto.

2. Ban production of things that contain ajinomoto, like Momos.

3. Ban production of people who make Momos, which is essentially getting every Nepalese immigrant vasectomised.

Of course, BJP took the second option because Sanjay Gandhi once took the third option and apparently we live in a cruel heartless society where you can’t even cut someone’s vas deferens for some innocent fun. BJP didn’t take the first option because ABEY O ANTI-NATIONAL SAALE BJP KI POLICY PE SAWAAL KARTA HAI?

Of course, we can live without momos and other Chinese cuisine dishes (or as they call it in Dilshad Garden, chaineej aytems) which contain ajinomoto, but look at what our other options are:

1. We could eat Maggi but then it was banned for excessive lead, and it caused a situation of utter chaos, where students had to eat the tortured-tape-worm-shaped Top Ramen noodles during exams and Tom Uncle’s Maggi Point in DU got demoted to Tom Uncle’s Point, which was pointless.

2. We could eat chicken but then bird flu happened. We could eat pork but then swine flu happened. We could eat mutton par ye June wali Eid to meethi Eid hai. We could eat fish but then Bombil is the only affordable fish and it smells like Arvind Kejriwal’s feelings towards Narendra Modi. We could eat beef but it is too early to have the last meal of our lives for many of us. 

3. We could eat Dal but go ask your parents how expensive it is, and eventually the conversation will reach at how you’ll end up selling their​ house because you spend like an idiot.

4. We could eat soya dishes, which are the Palika-Bazaar copies of butter chicken, and no self-respecting Punjabi will ever sink that low. 

5. We could eat khichdi or idli but then there would be no difference between my diarrhea and non-diarrhea days.

I have to agree that if a certain food item has a carcinogenic ingredient without which it cannot be prepared, it needs to be banned and put off the menu, just like BJP has banned other carcinogenic things such as cigarettes, bidis and the logic of its bhakts and the acts of cow vigilantes. Oh. Wait.

There are a lot of other killer things that deserve the society’s attention. Falling in love and getting friendzoned kills more people on the inside than any amount of ajinomoto ever can. Pressure of entrance exams is more lethal to our social life than a plate of steamed chicken momos for two years. The ‘ssssh ssssh’ hissing sound that people make while having the red chilli dip with momos is more poisonous to the environment than the entire stack of momos on that stove. Clearly, we are concentrating on the wrong problem here.

Having said all that, I think I’ll be able to live in a country without momos. It’s not the issue that is of paramount importance to me or the nation. However, if they ever try to even think of putting a ban on Gol-Gappe, yaad rakhna… Talwaarein chal jayengi. 

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Is it mandatory to rock and roll in Dharamsala?

Given that Delhi weather becomes similar to inside of an earthen tandoor in the month of June, for the second consecutive year I did what every middle class Delhiite does: go to a hill station in Himachal Pradesh decided after a meticulous procedure of research with special emphasis on affordability and number of leaves sanctioned from the office. Last year, I went to Shimla, and this year, I went to Dharamsala to enjoy a sudden drop of temperature from a burning 38 degree Celsius in Delhi to an icy-cold 33 degrees in Dharamsala.

Dharamsala is a green, hilly place in Himachal Pradesh famous for the fact that his holiness the Dalai Lama used to live there for some time during his exile, and that now there are a lot of restaurants serving good Tibetan food with names like Thenthuk and Gyathuk which formed the basis of a marathon of lame jokes on the same. I went with three other male friends, and we decided for Dharamsala because we found an affordable hotel with a great view from our balcony to enjoy while having a drink (or may be two, or any random number onwards of ten) in the evening when it’s totally dark outside and we realise that view ke naam pe toh kat Gaya BC.

We survived a 12-hour back-breaking sleepless bus journey in a Himachal Roadways bus (with seats which oscillated back-and-forth making squeaky noises for minutes together every time the bus ran over a speed-breaker) to reach our hotel. The first place on the list was Bhagsu falls, which was more of a running water tap than a waterfall, though the pool at the end of it had balls-numbingly cold water, although we didn’t decide to verify that particular adjective as me and my friends still have hopes of getting married and having kids, so we went only knees-deep into that. There was also a free common over-crowded swimming pool in the Bhagsu temple premises, and we had a gala time playing in the water, only to come out at regular intervals to wipe off the pubes and insects from our oral cavities.

The evening was reserved for the real purpose of the trip: getting wasted with moderately-priced whiskey with the feeling of ‘being on a vacation’. Of course the conversations took amazing twists and turns with increasing blood ethanol levels, and I won’t be able to recollect and write most of the things we talked about, let’s just say that it was a 7-hour long session involving cuss words, women, more cuss words, confessions, and random moments of clinking glasses with either “ispe to cheers banta hai!” or “abey ab har baat pe cheers karoge?“.

The final morning of a two-mornings-long trip, we went to Bir-Billing, the highest paragliding destination in Asia. There is a vertical descent of around 1100 metres with a parachute, and obviously excited, we discussed what we would say before the jump so that the selfie camera would record it as we had paid 500 rupees extra for that. I decided on ‘Volar Morghulis‘, although something sounding similar to “Aeeeggghhh Mummmmyyyyyy” came out, because darr ke aage jeet and obvious wetting of pants hai. Nevertheless, it was a breath-taking sight from the top, and I had a perfect walking-on-the-ground landing too.

So, paragliding was obviously the best part of my weekend getaway, but I can’t help but wonder, what did the first person smoke up before having the thought “hmmm, nothing could possibly go wrong if I jump off this hill and descend down a kilometre with a parachute. After all, Volar Morghulis!“.

That, and also, did his selfie camera have audio recording feature?

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The Women In My Life

Women are special and important to this world. They were created by God right after Adam first set foot on earth because God is intelligent and he didn’t create an anti-virus before he saw what the virus looked like and was doing to himself and the earth. Not everyday is International Women’s Day, but I would like to take a moment to thank, cherish and attempt jokes at the women in my life.

My Mother

Expectedly enough, she is a stereotypical Punjabi mother, who is proud that I am a doctor, but also pissed that I don’t fill the water bottles and keep in the fridge after drinking. She is happy to feed me Gobhi parathe with butter even if she’s not feeling well, but also angry that I am a lazy fool who is doing ‘tiktik‘ on his phone all day. She fondly remembers all those small things about me, like the first time I said Ma, the first time she ran after me in the street with a slipper in her hand and the first time she went to my Parents-Teacher meeting. The last moment is supposedly her most embarrassing moment till date. I’ll wait and see if that changes when she reads my blogs.

My partner

I prefer to call my girlfriend as my partner because it makes me sound intellectual and classy (to myself), and also the fact that she knows a lot of secrets about me, hence I must make this paragraph sound nice about her.  Before meeting her, I was a skinny, stupid boy with self-esteem issues and now, after 7 years, all thanks to her, I am skinny, stupid boy with self-esteem issues and a girlfriend. To think that there is someone who wants to hear my voice daily, without wanting to throw a brick at my face because of all the lame jokes I crack at a rate of 3 per minute, is a blissful feeling.

Ex-flames and crushes

From unrequited love and getting friendzoned, to restraining-order-level outright rejection, I’ve had a lot of stories in my life. My favourite reply was “it’s not you, it’s me” which roughly translated to “shakal se hi chutiya lagta hai tu” in Hindi. Some other gems were “you’ll find someone better than me” which meant “arranged marriage me hi koi phas Sakti hai tujhse” and “you’re one of my best friends, and I can never feel for you this way”, which was a slightly more polite version of “Bwahahahahaha kaise soch kaise liya be tune?”. About the present, I clam lucky that I can have a crush on multiple women without my girlfriend feeling insecure because more than her trust in my faithfulness, she has a lot of confidence in my face.


They say that your bhabhi is like your mother, and I would say she can even be better than a mother because my bhabhi has never tried to force-feed me green vegetables, nor has she criticised my hairstyle or an attempt at keeping a beard by calling me an ogre. She is the sweetest person in my life, a great partner to my brother, a great daughter to my parents and the person who will always like my Facebook posts because no one else does and she knows that it hurts my feelings.

Cousins and Friends

There are women who have to tolerate me because they are related to me by blood, and there are women who do so by choice. My friends feel bad for my cousins’ luck while my cousins (when I show them photographs as a proof that I have friends), question the choices in life made by my friends. Just kidding. I’m very lucky that many of my female friends became my rakhi sisters to feel safe.

Now all of them take a backseat, because the angel has arrived. And she’ll call me Chachu. 🙂

The cutest thing in the world, isn’t she?

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