My First Birthday......

          Yesterday was my birthday.  The celestial event came back again without much difference.  I woke up in the morning as usual.  No one shouted as "It’s a boy, IT's A BOY".  No fanfare or cut outs.   There wasn't a single nurse to give me bath.  So I took my own bath !  Prayed to God.  Because When I was born in 1973, Bruce Lee died.  When I turned one SN Bose died and it went on.

          I have never cut a cake on my birthday.  Why should I blow and spit on the cake and give it to everyone. I wanted to cut a cake only after accomplishing something and I am a young boy who has a lifetime ahead to achieve.

         But this year I was compelled to spit on the cake alongwith my colleague and wonderful friend Mr.Pradeep who sadly shares his birthday with mine. He is a large man with larger heart.  He is such a divine who appreciate all my blogs. Even if I write a blog like 1, 2, 3, 3, 4, 5, 5,   He will laugh boisterously and say “Why Ashok, did you fail in 3rd and 5th Standards  !!”. So when he stood near me the happiness was doubled rather tripled due to his size !!!   So we were like “two peas in a pod” no don't think “two pees in a pond”.  He is like a saint who loves everyone.  Only condition is that they are to be women.  He is getting kinder and kinder.  At this rate, I may propose to him sooner or later.  Together we can prove that “Two wrongs can make it right!”.

           My friend is as young as ‘Everest”.  So when they decided to order a birthday cake for both of us, they ordered the cake from “Cakewaves” and candles straight from the factory.  When all the candles were lighted, the airport was like the place for candles peace march and Chennai clocked its highest temperature. We put off the candles with a blower.

            I had always wanted to age like wine, tastier and better.  At least would have loved to remain as honey, unchanged. But it seems I am ageing like garbage.  My body is ballooning and eye sights are retracting. My memory was always at the rock bottom. Now it is digging deeper and my…  mm.. never mind.

            I sincerely thank my colleagues for their speech,  arranging the party and burning a hole in their pant pockets !

            I thank all the well wishers who are happy to see us getting old.  Hearty thanks to one and all.

Hairy Problems….

Being Humane or  He-man is easier than being a man especially ‘young’ man. 

Being humane is easy as all you have to do is to wear the slogan T-shirt and shoot the deer and Being He-man is also easier as you are not to take haircut but wear a metal brief. But being young man is impossible like keeping the women quiet for an hour.

Men faces many important battles like fighting men for women and fighting women for women. Among those problems, hair greying is the second hardest battle. First one of course is "balding" which will shed in other article.  While balding is nothing but growth of hair downward i.e excess beard and moustache, greying on the other hand is maturity of hair ahead of the person!

When your hair starts to fade and when the female genre start calling you ‘uncle’, that word will shake your world and cause heart attack.  This is the main reason for heart attacks among men.  

It is important to dye.  Check TV Ads...

If you don't dye, your wife will not come out shopping with you. Children won't talk and neighbourhood fellow will call you 'Uncle'.

If you dye, all will sing and dance around you.

Dyes change a grandpa to ‘bro’ in a jiffy. If Godrej hadn't sold dyes, many Indian women would have gone for divorce. That's the reason saloons loot more money like Vijay Mallya. To escape them you have to be either bald i.e blessing in disguise or Sardar ji  i.e disguise in blessing.  I am planning to become a Sardar ji. 

Our national Sunday duty is dyeing when grandpa, grandma, father and mother sit together for a session of family dyeing.

When moustache start to fade within 4 days after dyeing like husbands' lies and we get furious like seasoned wives. Desperate times need desperate measures.  Maskara, eyeliners and dark pencils stand for us. 

North Indians use different colours widely and one can see red heads, rangoli heads and wooden heads. Some come out as if they had played holi on the saloon.

In South, People prefer black alone as they don't want others to know.   They will happily reveal national secrets but not dyeing secrets.

Luckily we had shed all the body hair from our Gorilla ancestors. Otherwise we can dye only in dyeing tanks used for fabrics.

You can become a modern Artist, if you dye regularly, as the strokes are same!  

If snow white heads suddenly turn as black as Tar especially the forehead and sideburns and if dogs bark or children weep on seeing you, it is better to change the dye.

Choose your dye more carefully than you choose your wife as it kills slower.  But you got the liberty to change to other company die or have two three company dies at the same time.

Go for popular brands who advertise a lot like Modi ji and preferably foreign brands.  Don't fall for “Make in India" campaign or else you will roam as if born to ration card and aadhar card photo.