But Head-Butt Kyon Kiya?

Well, we solved the mystery.

Matterazi asked Zidane -

"Hum Chlormint Kyu Khaate Hai?"

Update Some Chinese guy has gone and registered Zidane's notorious headbutt as a trademark. More here

Aliens watched World Cup too

At least that's what The Times of India wants you to believe. Its July 11 editorial says that 32 billion people watched the 2006 World Cup.

Now, since the earth's population is only around six billion, I assume the daily conducted a survey in nearby galaxies and found that the 26 billion aliens on planets Zzor, Bimbor and Galifa were also ardent fans of the game.

That's not all. The editorial also talks about the record four red cards in the England-Portugal tie. Mr Know-nothing-about-the-World-Cup-and-still-writing-TOI-editorial should kindly take note that the four red cards were issued in the infamous Portugal-Netherlands match.

There might have been more bloopers in the piece but I was so disgusted I didn't bother to finish it. Wotsay?

My experiments with Orkut

You know you are obsessed with Orkut when you check it even before you check your email. Yes, I have become one of those orkutting weirdos.

The internet community website seems to be making a strong comeback with several people I know making a beeline for Orkut last month.

I first joined it a couple of years ago at a time when few in India had heard about it. In fact, I remember telling a friend about it and him thinking Orkut was some kind of fish.

Those were pioneering days for Orkut in India. Disheartened by the lack of enthusiasm for what was obviously such a brilliant idea, I quit. I soon forgot my username-password and Orkut became just a distant memory.

In February this year, persuaded by a friend, I rejoined Orkut. Things didn't work out again. Friends and acquaintances did not respond to my invites to join, thinking it would be a waste of time. The Orkut search did not turn up any long-lost schoolmates. I quit.

Things perked up only in June when a friend forced to me give Orkut a third and final try. I logged in with my Gmail id and Voila! It worked. Almost everyone I knew was finally online and I was actually getting scrapped.

Orkut in India was inundated with users in June, a fact which remains inexplicable. But I am not complaining. Go ahead, give Orkut a try. It really does work.

Am tagged again - Help!

Thanks for nothing SIB

I am thinking about how long it's been since I had a cup of coffee at Barista

I said... I think therefore I'm online

I want to... write a novel before I die. Seriously

I wish... Tumblers of Hot Chocolate Fudge were a dime a dozen

I miss... carefree days at IIMC, Delhi

I hear... John and Bipasha are breaking up over Mallika

I wonder... if girls are attracted to hunks or geniuses or a combo of both

I regret... not being a Hrithik Roshan lookalike

I am... going to kill SIB for tagging me

I dance... when no one's looking

I sing... in your dreams

I am not always... the nice guy I'm made out to be

I make with my hands... well, nothing. I can't lie too much, can I?

I write... a lot of stuff I shouldn't be writing

I confuse... Confucius and Confucianism

I should try... spending more time with my pet fish Oliver

I finish... packets of biscuits in 60 seconds

Now I punish Friendly Ghost, Jhansi ki Rani and One Fine Day by bestowing upon them this tag.

Paternal Instinct

I have inspired several friends and acquaintances over the past few years to try their hand at blogging. Some gave it up almost instantly while others have diligently stuck to it.

But my biggest achievement was getting somebody from my own family to take up this pastime. Yes, ladies and gentleman, please welcome my sixty-something just retired Dad to the blogosphere.

It's too early to say whether his blogging mania will last a day, a month or all eternity - which is why I am not allowed to publish his blog address here.

But be that as it may, I am proud of you, Dad. Which brings me to my next question - when are you getting Mom into the blogger fold?

Most embarrASSing moment

It's funny how school-leaving 'slam books' would invariably have a column on Most Embarrassing Moment.

Since we were on the verge of bidding farewell to people we might never see again, my classmates left it blank - some because they hadn't gone through an embarrassing moment and others (like me) because it would have been much more embarrassing to reveal it.

But were the same question asked of me today, I would answer it without hesitation. And since no one has bothered to quiz me yet, I decided to blog about my most embarrassing moment till date.

Which is -

Brushing my teeth with shaving cream

Now don't smile and shrug it off. This actually happened. And it wasn't even my tube of shaving cream.

The incident took place some years ago while I was doing my Masters in English from Hindu College. Some of us had gone down south for a leadership training camp in Kazipet (Andhra Pradesh) and clumsy nitwit that I was, I forgot to pack my toothpaste.

My roomie gave me permission to use his stuff and I proceeded to brush my teeth. Then almost puked.

T: What the hell is this stuff?
Roomie: You stupid ass! It's shaving cream
T: But...Bluh...Bluuuhhhhh
Roomie: It's written in big bold letters. How can anyone mistake shaving cream for toothpaste?
T: (grimace) The pack's the same colour as my toothpaste

Being the bosom friend he was, Roomie promptly went and informed everybody in camp. And for the remaining two days in Kazipet, I had to endure being called 'Shaving Cream' and listen to animated discussions on my unusual dietary habits.

I know what you are thinking - "This is nothing, there was a rip in my wedding dress" and of course Carol Gracias must be saying "I wish I had made that slippery buckle a bit more secure" but what can I do?

Nothing more embarrassing than the shaving cream incident has happened to me. And I will certainly tell you if anything happens in the future.

The dangers of being tech-challenged

Am in a very bad mood. Had been tinkering with my blog template two days ago when something happened - either the Blogger server went down or God knows what - but when it ended I found that half my template had disappeared.

Although I managed to salvage my posts and archives using what html stuff I could decipher from other blog templates, I lost all the links to my articles online that I had painstakingly collected over the past year to put up on the blog. That too after ranting about the lives of deskpersons in a media office.

I tried Google cache and web archives too but to no avail. I realised I have been relying on technology quite a great deal and how a small glitch can bring Toe Knee literally down to his knees.

Update: Things seem to be a bit okay now. I managed to painstakingly salvage a dozen individual links to my articles. Thank God for Google. As for the rest of the links, they are out there in the world wide web. Just you wait.

Canine Angel

Did I tell you about the army war exercises in Punjab that I covered last month? Anyway, after a hectic two-day interaction with tanks and troops and most importantly dirt and dust of every hue, our group of journalists reached Delhi at around 3 am.

In a scary no-taxi no-car scenario, I managed to get a lift from an NDTV reporter (Thank you - Randeep Singh Nandal) and he dropped me off at Khanpur crossing about 1.5 km from my pad. I started doing the best thing I could do to reach home - Walking.

It was at this point that a mangy dog with a limp appeared from nowhere and started trotting by my side. It wasn't as if this thin ragged-looking specimen, which looked nothing like the Hound of the Baskervilles, could pose any threat to my six-foot frame, but I started walking faster all the same. It was 4 am on a lonely stretch of road, so I guess you will understand.

(To deviate from the story, I had been bitten by a monkey at the age of ten and got a gazillion painful anti-rabies shots, including one in the bum, and have been morbidly scared of rabid canines and simians ever since)

But the dog managed to somehow keep up with me. I didn't have the heart to throw stones at it so I just crossed the road, divider and all, and resumed walking. To my surprise, pretty soon I heard it trotting beside me and a dreadful wheezing sound emanating from its mouth.

"Man, this dog is sick," I thought to myself and redoubled my efforts to outpace the dog. I tried crossing the road twice more but each time the dog successfully manouevred its way over the divider and crossed over to my side.

The funny thing is each stray dog has its territory marked out and this specimen by my side seemed like a newcomer in the area. Which explains why every 200 metres or so, a group of stray dogs would start barking and howling away at my canine companion, which would cringe and give off a few pitiful barks of its own before following in my footsteps.

I was just about to reach home and wondering how to get rid of the menace when stray dog group no 16 launched a fresh onslaught on my unwanted friend. Mangy Dog cowered under a nearby car before escaping on the other side.

At this point, I managed to give it the slip and rush inside my apartment gates. I watched as the dog, which had lost its bearings by then, tried to locate me and then trotted off in the wrong direction. I never saw it again.

Good riddance to unwanted companion, I thought. But when I reflect on the incident, I am kind of grateful to the dumb dog. Walking 1.5 km when you are dead tired and sleepy and carrying a heavy handbag is no fun. But I had been so engrossed in trying to escape Mangy Dog that I had covered the distance without even realising it.

Was the dog an angel in disguise? To make sure I reached my house safely. Maybe. What do you think?

Conversation between Watt and William Knott

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?