Someone emailed me the following conversation. I think it starts off fine but gets too contrived in the end. Wotsay?
The telephone rings. William Knott picks it up
"Who's calling?"
"Watt"
"What is your name, please?"
"Watt's my name"
"That's what I asked you. What's your name?"
"That's what I told you. Watt's my name"
A long pause - and then Watt tries again
"Is this James Brown?"
"No, this is Knott"
"Please tell me your name."
"Will Knott"
"Why not?"
"Huh? What do you mean why not?"
"Yeah! Why won't you tell me your name?"
"But I told you my name!"
"Didn't you say you will not?"
"Not not, knott, Will Knott!"
"That's what I mean"
"So you know my name"
"Of course not!"
"Good. So now, what is yours?"
"Watt. Yours?"
"Your name!"
"Watt's my name"
"How the hell do I know? I am asking you!"
"Look I have been very patient and I have told you my name and you have not even told me yours yet"
"You have been patient, what about me?"
"I have told you my name so many times and it is you who have not told me yours yet"
"Of course not!"
"See, you even know my name!"
"Of course not!"
"Then why do you keep saying of course Knott?"
"Because I don't"
Pause
"What is your name?"
"See, you know my name!"
"Of course not!"
"Then why do you keep saying Watt is your name"
"To find out your name!"
"But you already know it!"
"What?"
"See, but you know mine!"
"Of course not!"
"Exactly!"
"Listen, listen, wait - if I asked you what your name is, what will be
your answer?"
"Watt's my name"
"No, no, give me only one word"
"Watt"
"Your name!"
"Right!"
Pause before it hits William Knott
"Oh, Wright!"
"Yeah!"
"So why didn't you say it before?"
"I told you so many times!"
"You never said Wright before"
"Of course I did"
"Ok I won't argue any more. Do you know my name?"
"I do not"
"Well, there you go, now we know each other's name"
"I do not!"
"Good!"
Pause before it hits Mr Watt
"Oh, Guud!"
"Good"
"No wonder, it took me so long, is that Dutch?"
"No, it's Knott!"
"Oh, okay. At least the names are clear now Guud"
"Yes, Wright"
Any scope for continuing the conversation?
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
About girls who push their dads
My brother stunned me today with this absolutely disgusting specimen of a riddle (at least that's what he called it).
The Question: What do you call a girl who pushes her dad off a cliff?
.
..
...
The Answer: Pushpa
Ya, I know you guys want to murder me. Will let you know when I'm available.
The Question: What do you call a girl who pushes her dad off a cliff?
.
..
...
The Answer: Pushpa
Ya, I know you guys want to murder me. Will let you know when I'm available.
Suicide Blues
Please, please don't take me seriously. Or at least too seriously. My post on being a disgruntled deskperson led to a lot of frantic calls. Guys, I am okay. Am not about to give up journalism or do something equally drastic.
I remember how one of my first blog posts also led to phone calls from worried friends and relatives. The topic - 'Ways to commit suicide'.
The post got me a phenomenal response from total strangers. Half of them tried to tell me how life is a beautiful gift and I should think happy thoughts while the other half - weirder still - wanted my advice on how to die and whether I could actually provide them some cyanide tablets. Excusez-moi but I do not wish to die. It was just a stupid blog post. See for yourself -
I remember how one of my first blog posts also led to phone calls from worried friends and relatives. The topic - 'Ways to commit suicide'.
The post got me a phenomenal response from total strangers. Half of them tried to tell me how life is a beautiful gift and I should think happy thoughts while the other half - weirder still - wanted my advice on how to die and whether I could actually provide them some cyanide tablets. Excusez-moi but I do not wish to die. It was just a stupid blog post. See for yourself -
How do you want to die? Please, no morbid fascination with eschatology here, just insatiable curiosity. Which do you prefer - hanging, drowning, burning, cyanide... or the thousands of options of snuffing out God's gift of life?The same thing happened with another of my blog posts two years ago. Why, why do people take me seriously? Can someone contemplating suicide actually write the following post -
Personally think burning to death is the worst possible way to die. All that skin flaking off and virtually boiling to death. Ugh! Being crushed to death in a torture chamber does come a close second. Watching the ceiling coming slowly but inexorably down to crush your cranium and bones to bits would take a lot of courage.
Drowning is bad too but only just - think of the discomfort as water wends its weary way down your lungs. Hanging - whenever our venerable Bollywood directors want to show somebody committing suicide, they invariably take recourse to the lethal noose. Is it easy? Or are you trying to emulate our martyrs?
Would you hire someone to batter you with an axe? You would have to, you know. It's never the same thing when you stab yourself with a knife or attempt to scrape your head off with an axe. Most likely you'll be left with a horrendous scar and the pain of living with it.
Or do you want to jump from one of the Nehru Place skyscrapers? You will know what it feels like to be free as a bird in the sky. For a few thrilling seconds, before you land with a thud on the concrete, splattering your entrails all along the sidewalk and bloodying the immaculate trousers of an innocent bystander.
On the flipside, taking potassium cyanide must surely be the easiest way to die. At least, you will be doing a service to mankind if you can just convey what it tastes like. Even qualify for a posthumous Nobel Prize.
Hey, I am no harassed docent explaining the concept of danse macabre. Just wanted to know how you would wanna die 'If' you had to?
They say, curiosity killed the cat. But in my case, I just don't care. What do you say?
I wonder how a proper suicide note should be written. Is it something people rehearse for hours on end or something they whip up on the spur of the moment?
Is it written like an Oscar award acceptance speech (I thank my wife, children and so forth) or like a post-it note on a refrigerator (I am tired of life. I quit).
How about a Booker Prize for suicide notes? Obviously, the recipients would all get it posthumously. Or we'll make sure attempted-and-unsuccessful-suicides are excluded from qualifying.
Should it be typed, handwritten or embossed in ink with a calligrapher's panache?
Should it be indited on paper, ancient parchment or the back of a used napkin?
Should it be a word (Death) or a ream or a 375-page novel?
What about style - dramatic, staid, artistic, modern, Shakespearian (To be or not to be - I have decided on the latter) or SMS.
Choices - why are there so many choices. And until I can figure out how to write my perfect little suicide note - I refuse to take my life.
The height of stupidity???
Illusionist David Copperfield is planning to go one better than rival David Blaine by impregnating a woman live onstage.
The magician will carry out the stunt in Germany, without - he insists - even touching the volunteer. Read more here
The magician will carry out the stunt in Germany, without - he insists - even touching the volunteer. Read more here
Saturday, June 03, 2006
A deskperson speaks
Being a deskperson sucks. We are the ones who toil away at the uncut stone of 'bad writing' and nurture it into the diamond of good newpaper reportage. We are the ones who deserve the byline, not Mr I-got-the-news who just gave us a couple of flashes from his news sources. After all, we are the ones who fashioned his crap into a full-fledged story.
I know you think this is the grouse of a deskperson who's just had a bad day at work. Maybe you are right. But don't you agree we should at least get some credit. And not remain some faceless entities in the background while Mr and Ms I-got-the-news soak up the adulation and adrenalin rush involved in hands-on news gathering.
I have a compromise formula. How about a double byline for news stories? Maybe Mr I-got-the-news and Mr I-made-it-into-a-story could share the limelight together. Isn't that a reasonable demand? But then who listens to a deskperson.
I am not complaining. I have had my share of reporting (the once-in-two-months-go-on-a-junket kinds) and the results are what you see on the right-hand side of this blog.
People often accuse me of looking for publicity by putting up stuff I have written on my blog. That may be true. But then, these 30-something stories are all that I have achieved in three years of journalism. Reporters notch up 300 bylines in the same timeframe apart from all the 'unbylined' stories they dish out.
Don't you agree? Anybody buying that 'double-byline' theory of mine?
I know you think this is the grouse of a deskperson who's just had a bad day at work. Maybe you are right. But don't you agree we should at least get some credit. And not remain some faceless entities in the background while Mr and Ms I-got-the-news soak up the adulation and adrenalin rush involved in hands-on news gathering.
I have a compromise formula. How about a double byline for news stories? Maybe Mr I-got-the-news and Mr I-made-it-into-a-story could share the limelight together. Isn't that a reasonable demand? But then who listens to a deskperson.
I am not complaining. I have had my share of reporting (the once-in-two-months-go-on-a-junket kinds) and the results are what you see on the right-hand side of this blog.
People often accuse me of looking for publicity by putting up stuff I have written on my blog. That may be true. But then, these 30-something stories are all that I have achieved in three years of journalism. Reporters notch up 300 bylines in the same timeframe apart from all the 'unbylined' stories they dish out.
Don't you agree? Anybody buying that 'double-byline' theory of mine?
Friday, June 02, 2006
Why it's okay to rape Indira Ishwarlal Thakur?
Fellow blogger Vulturo has quite a different take on the reservation issue -
Let me tell you a little story. It is a bit gruesome, but quite interesting nevertheless. And there is a moral too, in the end. If reading about the illtreatment of women and violence against them makes you feel funny in your intestines, then this post is definitely not for you.
There was this unbelievably beautiful girl, Indira Ishwardas Thakur (You could call her Ms IIT for the sake of convenience), who used to live in this pretty interesting locality called Indrakumar-Natwarlal-Durgadas International Avenue (you could call it INDIA, for the sake of convenience). INDIA was interesting because it was full of diversity. Read more here
Thursday, June 01, 2006
The ghost who likes music
Finally! One good reason why you shouldn't listen to Himesh Reshammiya songs. Read more here.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
'Poomphet' has me stumped
Journalist Chidanand Rajghatta's 'Indiaspora' column in the Sunday Times is usually a good place to find and learn new words. But this week's column had me stumped.
Elaborating on the scarcity of Indian nurses in the US, Chiddu writes that Indians do not hold nurses in high regard.
Perhaps it's a misprint. Or maybe Chiddu is just trying his hand at inventing new words a la Salman Rushdie. Perhaps the readers of this impromptu post about this one funny word might be able to suggest a solution. Any answers?
Elaborating on the scarcity of Indian nurses in the US, Chiddu writes that Indians do not hold nurses in high regard.
"While we poomphet endlessly about our emigrating geek army and doctors fantastic, I have never heard hosannas for the nursing brigade..."Hello? What is 'poomphet'? Intrigued by this funny sounding word, I checked the Oxford English dictionary, I checked the Net, scoured Google and online dictionaries - in short, wasted precious minutes of my time. But 'poomphet' was nowhere to be found.
Perhaps it's a misprint. Or maybe Chiddu is just trying his hand at inventing new words a la Salman Rushdie. Perhaps the readers of this impromptu post about this one funny word might be able to suggest a solution. Any answers?
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