More Antimatter Life

I never considered my life interesting enough for others to follow. But after reading many blogs, books and other assorted crap I ‘did’ realize that I ‘do’ lead an interesting life. Therefore I am going to write about myself (don’t you worry, the usual incoherent ramblings will also continue) and make an online diary to help people learn a bit more about me. Not interested? Oh yeah! And fuck you too
18th March-10 Pm- the antimatter is happily drinking in the hallowed precincts of the Haddows club. A friend decides to put in an appearance and tells me that he wants his next drink in Bangalore. Yippee, that is right up my alley.11 PM, the Antimatter is near Sriperambadur, sipping extra diluted whiskey and driving.

The next two days consist of, just drinking and being a total idiot. ‘Taika’ in Church Street, Bangalore is highly recommended for doing things like that. I-bar@ THE PARK is also pretty interesting. I spend two days drinking and eating, nothing else to vie for my attention.

21st March- 6 PM- @ home. Still continuing the drinking binge and I decide I want to go to Sikkim. Been wanting to take a peek a boo of the Mt.Khangchendzonga, and if the mountain wont come to Mohammad then Mohammad has to go there, right? There is a flight to Delhi at 8 PM. Called my travel advisor and he tells me that the flight to Delhi is full therefore I cant leave. So I invite him home and we work out options over a drink. I end up booking myself to Kolkatta on Wednesday evening and then to Bagdogra on Thursday morning. We send half a bottle of whiskey to its demise just to celebrate the booking. (Boy, this went from mad to worse). A friend who was drinking with me (the same dude who began this whole saga by coming to Haddows club and putting the Bangalore idea into my noggin) was to leave to Japan that night. So I decide to drop him at the airport. Since we were in the mood to decide on lots of things, we decided to make one more decision and that was to decide to make a pit stop at The Trident to familiarize ourselves with the layout. And we end up having a few more drinks there. By this time I have lost count of the amount of Bacchius nectar that is parked in my system. We reach airport without any unfortunate incidents. On the way back, this time someone sober is driving, (the antimatter might be wild but he’s not really into Hara Kari) I am invited to the Ramada for a final binge. Who am I to fight fate. So I go there, get cuckooed and reach home in an approximate state of consciousness.

22nd March 9 AM- Went to Indian Airlines office, got my ticket endorsed (that 16 coupon thingy that IC decided to bless us all with). Updates from Kolkatta and Sikkim will happen in a few days. Till then have fun and do what you wanna do. Remember YOU only live once.

More Disclaimers:
I never intended to write about what I do, did, or will do. But then I spent an inordinate amount of time listening to an idiot talk about the interesting evening he spent with the “Lions Club”. Jeez if people actually think that others want to hear about a “Lions Club” meeting, then they are definitely willing to listen about the consistency of dog poo!

P.S.Side note: That Modi moron pisses me off, but when Bush decides that he won’t give a visa to the Modi moron, it pisses me off even more. Ti’s all relative. (Thank you Einstein and screw you Bush).

Contributions to:
Play More Work Less Foundation
C/O Work More Play Less Foundation
Psychological Research Foundation
Lions Club Foundation.
Rotary Foundation
Foundation Foundation.

Rituals for the Dead

If you are unfamiliar with the Indian rituals for the dead (specifically the Hindus, but other religions have jumped into the bandwagon in recent times) you will find this informative. If you are familiar with the rituals then you might find this either amusing or disgusting. If you are one of those prudes with a hemorrhoid who thinks making fun of traditions or death is wrong, I suggest you click here.

Description of the dead:
A person who forgot to breathe for an extended period of time.

Lay out of the dead person’s earthly remains and surroundings:
The dead body is placed in the living (pun intended) room with the relatives of the dead surrounding it. The wails are punctuated with a brief episode of silence before someone else takes up the wailing. The place is filled with enough smoke (ritual burning of incense sticks) to give an inferiority complex to a pub on a Saturday night. The decibel level of the wails is indirectly proportional to the wealth left behind by the dead person.

Accepted conversations around the dead:
There are specific things that fall under the category of “accepted topics of conversation” in a dead mans house. Talk about what a good man he was. He could have been a homicidal psychotic maniac who killed the bishop, but that is forgotten during the funeral. (I wonder what would have been said during Hitler’s funeral if there was one. “Here lies a good man, who killed six million Jews and two million other assorted fellow beings. He believed in the supremacy of the Aryan race, he lived and died a man good at heart, unfortunately he misplaced his heart on the day he attained puberty and never found it till the end”)??

Rituals of the dead:
The dead person is laid out on a mat with a ‘One rupee’ coin stuck on his forehead. Probably to buy a ticket on the bus to wherever he is going, heaven or hell costs the same I guess. (This one rupee ritual might have originated from the ancient Greek tradition of covering the dead persons eyes with coins, which is used to pay the boatman Charon, who takes the dead person across the mythical river Styx to the land of the dead. No coin, no ride, the dead man is left in a limbo, haunting old castles instead of either rotting in hell or living it up in heaven.)
He is then taken on a ceremonial tour to the crematorium. This is where the fun begins. Amateur dancers dead drunk on cheap liquor escort the ceremonial tour. As they have enough liquor in them to be hired out as a brewery, they act crazier than is normal for humans. The path to the crematorium or cemetery is converted into “The strip”. Firecrackers, flash bangs, mad dances, drunken screams, floral displays, it makes one think that the whole family has been eagerly waiting for this guy to kick the proverbial bucket. Once he decided to oblige them, the joy overflows and celebrations are unleashed with an urgency that would have made the dead man proud to be dead.

The Crematorium or burial ground:
Spooky songs belted out on high quality loudspeakers and drunken ‘funeral directors’. (I use that term loosely.) Hindu rituals say that the people accompanying the cortege have to put rice over the dead mans mouth besides sticking more coins on the forehead. When the funeral directors see the coins being brought out, a fight usually erupts amongst them as to who gets the coins. Sometimes it turns violent, and the whole thing takes on a surreal tinge.
A bunch of half naked graveyard workers fighting on the sidelines, big speakers with spooky songs, a slight drizzle, stray dogs all around chewing on big bones (big bones in a crematorium would certainly be the femur of someone’s grand mother). Human bodies being burnt all around, the smell of burning flesh, the ash flying like mist in a mountain. A nasty old crone mumbling to herself and digging through the ashes of bodies already burnt hoping to find a coin that others had missed. The laments for the dead in DTS surround sound. Thank heavens I wont be there for my funeral.


If you want Antimatter to say a few good words during your funeral send your contributions to:

Antimatter.

Antimatter and his life

The antimatter hasn’t had an opportunity to write in a long while. It is not writers block, just lack of time. Complaining about lack of time has never been a virtue of mine (yeah, some people think it’s a virtue and complaining about lack of time will get them a membership in a high profile “Oh, I am so busy“ club). All of a sudden there doesn’t seem to be enough hours in a day, nor enough days in a week nor…….. A quick recap of events the past week. Went to watch Mark Knofler – he was brilliant; went to Bhubaneshwar- it sucked; ate crab meat in ginger sauce- it was ok; met a long lost friend- went on a nostalgic trip; flew on Alliance Air- it was like bungee jumping; spent hours with my three month old nephew (ok, now I know why I was always short of time)- it was amazing; saw Indian politics go from filth to stinking filth- nothing new; taught “sing a song of sixpence” to a friend in her mid twenties- satisfying; got a job offer when I hadn’t asked for one- went D-uh and just took it!

That’s enough biography to last a couple of lifetimes. Getting back to things that matter, vinodg has written his take on the union budget, brilliant piece of work. If you want entertainment, that’s the place to look.

Contributions to:
Fund to balance the budget
Money for nothing foundation
Federal governments worldwide.