How Sick Are You?

HOW SICK ARE YOU?

- By Ashish Patil -

Last week, I happened to catch a bit of the flu. Or what doctors call something when they have no fucking idea what’s wrong with you, “viral” [Note: This has nothing to do with the term that Senior Brand Managers use when briefing their creative agencies these days, “Ek viral banaa ke do!”]

And the viral was really going, erm, viral! I knew of at least 6 to 8 friends/ colleagues/ friend’s colleagues/ colleague’s friends/ relatives/ relative’s friends/ friend’s… you get the idea… who’d caught it as well. And no, there was no IPL, FIFA, long weekend round the corner that usually triggers violent retching, high temperature or the loosies in most people. Often simultaneously.

I realized, that you could classify people into 4 quadrants basis their state of health – both, actual & perceived. So, showcased below is a special ‘sickness mapping chart’ that you can use to categorize people.

Why do you need to do that? Well, knowledge is power. And knowing where people stand [or lie down – depending on the state of their health] will better equip you to deal with them. These could be your employees, your spouse, your kids… or even yourself. And honestly, it’s just fun. Here’s how it works…

Graphic: Sickness mapping chart © Ashish Patil 2015

X-axis is the actual sickness axis. The further to the right you are… the sicker you are.

And if you’re at the start line on the left, you should be racing Milind Soman.

Y-axis is your self-perceived state of health axis. The higher you are… the sicker you think you are. So, if you’re at the bottom of this axis, you probably think you should be racing Milind Soman… though you should probably not even race your bladder to the loo. [Sister, pass me the bed pan!]

1.     Hi Hypochondriacs

These are people who are fine. But always think they’re sick. And their self-diagnosis could range anywhere from having caught the Ebola virus to having got tested HIV+

Their [mental] immune system is the weakest. And they can catch anything by even reading or hearing about it. The most likely source of contagion is Google. They read up the symptoms and grow a tumor! And their condition is usually very very serious.

The reasons for this are not known. Various hypotheses exist. From being needy attention seekers to just being lazy assholes.

The best way to deal with them is – firmly. The best prescription is a kick in the ass!

2.     Bimaar Baalaks

These are people who are genuinely unwell. And know and accept they are too. Simple hai phir. Medical certificate, sick leave, dawaa aur kuchh zyaada ho toh dua.

If it’s a frequent occurrence then it could be something that requires some serious evaluation of lifestyle, habits and certainly some tests. They should probably date a doctor and/ or take up an assignment/ position like Senior Strategy Officer or Vice President HR. There’s no heavy lifting involved and the delirium from the medication will probably help fuel the bullshit required for those profiles.

3.     Fit Fuckers

These are people who are hale & hearty plus they know it and like to show it. They are probably from Krypton and can only be weakened if you were to find green kryptonite to shove up their bums. Matlab, haraamzaade, kabhi bimaar hi nahi padte.

And some are worse, they go on and on about their ‘fitness regimes’. Now these could vary from the no tea, no coffee, only green tea/ no carbs, no fat, only salads diet/ no elevator, no sitting, only stairs, standing desks/ walks, runs, jogs, swims, gym, yoga, hot yoga, cold yoga, Pilates, kick-boxing, meditation, Zumba, aerobics, treks, planks, reps, legs, abs, arms, biceps and what not. Eww!

They shouldn’t frankly even be featuring on this note – they should go drink a protein shake while they bench press with their babies.

4.     Health Hazards

These are people who are actually unwell, but refuse to believe it, accept it or do anything about it. “Oh, it’s just a cold!”/ “Oh, it’s nothing, probably lack of sleep!”/ “Kuch nahi yaar, just tiredness!”

These are people who [while we appreciate their commitment to work and all that] are simply stupid. They believe they have adamantium fused into their bones, which gives them magical healing abilities [no, you shit, you are NOT the Wolverine!] They will delay any and all kinds of treatment until they are on the verge of collapse and they will usually take one or two people [usually at least their partner or a colleague] down with them. “Iss dawaai ki kya zaroorat hai?”/ “I think you’re over-reacting!” These are the guys who will usually land up at work and spread their germs. Or realize that all their arteries are blocked only after the heart transplant [thank God for the green corridor – but “isski kya zaroorat thi!”]

The only way to deal with them is – from a distance.

Arre bhosdike, so jaa! Ghar jaa! Aur usse pehle, doctor ke paas jaa!

Ok, so now that you guys know how to categorize people – you don’t have to wait to actually get sick or for a visit to the doctor’s clinic to start identifying these people. Run through your FB friend list. Even their posts are a good clue, e.g.:

Typical Hi Hypochondriac posts

“Feeling sick”

Typical Bimaar Baalak posts

“Checked in @ Kokilaben. Visiting hours are 5 to 7pm.”

Typical Fit Fuckers posts

Picture of their abs, #selfie #workout #gym #trainer #reps

#chutiye!

Typical Health Hazards posts

“Feeling awesome”/ “I’m ready for Monday, Monday are you ready for me!”

I’m not sure where I classify under these… I still need to run a few tests to arrive at a more conclusive diagnosis. But one thing is for certain, my sense of humor certainly is sick!

The Day I Snatched A Blind Man's Walking Stick!

The Day I Snatched A Blind Guy’s Walking Stick!

- Ashish Patil -

This was sometime in 1994/95. I was working for SSC&B. The new creative hotshop that Lintas had set up. I wanted to be close to creative and in those days, the only ‘creative’ options were Advertising. [TV, radio, films or for that matter digital weren’t really serious or stable options then as they are now.] The advantage of working in advertising – even if I had crossed over to the ‘dark side’ of Account Planning/ Client Servicing from Copywriting [I had to get a ‘real job’] – was that you occasionally got a shot at writing the odd headline, a tagline, a one-off radio jingle or more. And the kick of seeing something you’ve written up on a hoarding or a half page press ad was incredible! For a 21 year old, starting out on his career, it was like you’ve been given the Lifetime Achievement Award at the Abby’s [yeah yeah, I know it’s the GoaFest now.]

Lintas had a division called SOMAC [Social Marketing Advertising & Communications] run by a wonderful lady called Gulan Kripalani. This unit did all the CSR work for the brands Lintas handled. And some of it’s own. And as NGO units are run, they’re non-profit organizations. They’re not meant to be non-profit themselves, but they often are ;) So you get your work done through favors, influence, ‘leaning on’ people and more. But you get your work done! SOMAC also had a couple of hoardings across the city. Chowpatty/ Marine Drive/ Babulnath temple. High traffic locations in Mumbai. Like those traffic/ road safety creatives that Karishma advertising [that was a really cool agency that did some kick ass work @ralphcrasto will bear me out!] used to do – though the new ones are all shit. Each creative got a 4-week window. Base exposure needed for a campaign, besides the fact that it was unaffordable to repaint hoardings more than once a month.

Just like everyone knows how disability/ pro-social communication & stories are award magnets – look at the Oscars® – it holds true even in advertising. So every creative guy [including the not so creative creative guy] would love to take a crack at a campaign every month for SOMAC. Big advantages were that…

a) You’re not working from a [usually shit] brief – you’re writing your own brief!

b) There’s no client approval necessary, feedback of “logo badaa karo” or “Issmein wo nahi hai yaar”

c) You’re guaranteed a release so you can enter all awards – don’t need to pay Meghalaya Midday to get a release out!

So I also thought I should take a crack at this. And wrote a hoarding for World Sight Day. My very dear friend @amardeb was creative head at SSC&B then. He was always very supportive of even ‘those client servicing people’ trying to be creative. Amar really liked the idea I’d cracked and got the very talented @maheshgharat who was a junior art director then [but is now Very Very Senior Creative Director at Ogilvy for South Asia, Intergalactic, Milky Way and some parts of a new yet to be discovered Galaxy Far Far Away] to even do a layout for me. And what do you know, suddenly the idea looked even cooler. Excited, I took the ad to Gulan at SOMAC. And she liked it. But… I sensed a ‘but’ coming. And sure enough, she said, it’s great, BUT it’s the classic advertising creative trap. Great creative, no action. Even if it moves me to want to act, I have no way to know how. And you’ve lost a genuine opportunity to create impact. The agency and advertising in general is full of people who want to do lip service. And don’t really give a shit. Don’t be that guy. Not so early on in your career at least!

Gulan

Amar

Mahesh

Lesson #1: Ideas without Actions AND Results are pointless

The other thing she did – not in a Senior Management Way – was she threw the problem back at me, but did NOT give me the solution. She told me to think about it, figure it out and come back as she’d love to run the ad in the coming month itself if I could nail this action bit.

I was as irritating & persistent then as I am now – ok maybe a little lesser then – and decided to go at it. And in those analog days of no mobile, digital, etc., when having ‘Rediff.com’ on your media plan came out of the ‘innovation’ budget… the answer sat in plugging in a simple helpline you could call to donate your eyes or at least get more information on. I got to work. Went through the Tata Press Yellow Pages. I made some calls. And sourced out the most respected set up that could be the answer – NAB [National Association for the Blind]. And pulled the correct helpline number. Besides ratifying the same with the NAB guys. I wanted to go a step further, so I managed to get a conceptual nod from NAB to also have their logo carried if we chose on the ad so that it added some credibility to the communication. I took it back to Gulan. She was thrilled and said let’s go for it. The hoarding had to go up in 2 days.

NAB

Lesson #2: If you really want to teach someone something then don’t spoon feed them… guide them, but let them figure it out on their own. [The parallel of ‘give a guy a fish and he’ll eat for a day Vs. teach a guy how to fish and he’ll never starve’. Btw, I’m vegetarian.]

The only catch was basis Lintas systems & procedures; I needed to get an NOC from NAB to carry the logo. By that evening. 4:30pm to be specific – as accounts closed by 5pm – if the creative had to go up in time for the new month. Shiiite! Ab itni duur aakar, I was not about to give up. I called NAB’s head office. And dropped every name from Alyque Padamsee, Prem Mehta to some fabricated foreign sounding names. I think I used Steven Spielberg as well. I was worried about the bureaucracy, pace of movement at NAB that could deprive me of my Academy Award®. They had not heard of any of these names and were clearly unimpressed. But, irrespective, were kind enough to put me through to the Chairman of NAB. I gave him a background to this. He patiently heard my requirement and me out for the NOC. And simply said, no problem. Come on over, carry the draft, he’d sign off on it. Bingo!

Given I was working on a crazy deadline, and the fact that I’m geographically challenged [I often get lost getting to the bedroom from my own loo!] – I asked him if he could help me with directions to get there.

This was my introduction to the world’s first Human GPS service. He asked me a set of very specific questions. Where am I coming from? What time do I plan to leave? And what’s my mode of transport? [Bus/ Taxi/ Car/ Train/ Walking, etc.] He said he would guide me accordingly. I used to ride a bike in those days. What followed was the clearest set of directions I’ve ever received. [If only all clients, partners, artistes or people in general could be so clear in their communication/ feedback – the world would be a better place!] It was really like the navigation voice talking me through every twist, turn at every meter. It was incredible. Cross Nehru Planetarium on your right. 20 meters, right at Mela restaurant. Hit Worli sea face. That as I’m on a bike, there’s no parking, no right turn. So use the gol-chakkar further up. And after 8 buildings and 1 mosque, I will hear a beeping sound. This is a low decibel beeper kept to guide the blind school students who work here. So to keep my ears open for that. Once I’m in the gate, and I cross the 2^nd door on the right which will have a Maharashtrian guard at this time, I should come to the 1^st floor – Apologies lift is not working today – get to the 3^rd cabin on the left. It will have a very big and embarrassing placard that says ‘Chairman’. I should walk right in.

I could visualize everything as I rode there. Literally playing out just like he described. I got there and peeked into the Chairman’s office [and it was a large sign – hung lower for a reason – it also had a Braille tag to it]. I saw a middle-aged gentleman, in a safari suit, grey hair at a desk. And as soon as I knocked, he flashed a really warm smile at me and got up to greet me, shake my hand, bring me in. He looked straight into my eyes as he said, “You must be Mr. Patil… come in, come in. Hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.” I was thinking to myself – after those directions, I could have found my way to the moon. But was just getting over someone calling a 21-year old ‘Mr. Patil’. I told him to please call me Ashish and sat down. He said I seemed even younger than I sounded on the phone. He offered chai/ coffee but I told him I was in a rush, as I needed to catch this deadline for the hoarding creative. He then opened a jar of some ‘special kela wafers [banana chips]’ – he said meetha nahi toh kuchh moonh namkeen toh karo! Telling me how he loved these knick knacks and afternoon chai is incomplete otherwise. He thanked me for doing this for them. I pulled out the NOC and handed it to him. He pulled a pen, signed it. Made a call and asked someone to get an NAB stamp. After stamping the letter, neatly folded and handed the paper back to me. I needed 2 copies, so asked him to also sign the second one that I’d kept on his table. And he started fumbling to find it.

That’s when it hit me! He was also blind.

The specific directions, some of his statements… ‘seemed’ vs. ‘looked’ even younger, etc. all came together. I was just speechless for a bit. With just his attitude to life. His jokes. The efficiency and speed with which he moved. The way he was talking to his staff and even to the office boy who brought the stamp and pad in. The passion with which he was talking about NAB and what they were doing. About the newly set up Braille printing press & library. What they were trying to do to make blind people independent. And more. I sat, listened. He signed the second paper. I thanked him. For not just the NOC but for more than he knew. I rode off happy. Blown away. And changed for life.

With how a blind man taught me how to see.

Ps: The hoarding did get approved, painted and mounted in time

Pps: I sent a large packet of assorted chips for the afternoon chai-naashta at NAB after it finally went up

Ppps: The hoarding read as follows:

SNATCH A BLIND MAN’S WALKING STICK!

Give him your eyes instead.

[The number you call to donate your eyes followed with an NAB logo]

Pppps: I didn’t win any awards. But I felt really good about this.

LIFE WITH SHITAL [among my early attempts at writing a book, written as a b'day gift for my then girlfriend, now wife, in 1999]

LIFE WITH SHITAL

- Ashish Patil -

Front inside flap:

Flip the cover flap to conceal embarrassment

Dummy cover:

THE COMPANIES ACT, 1956

An Analytical Study of Section 44 (D)

with added emphasis on

Sub-section 28.69, Clause (iii), Row 11, Seat 23

- Ashish Patil -

Ph.D, L.L.M., MA. TRIC.

OTHER BOOKS BY THIS AUTHOR

Ashish Patil Falls In Love

The Patil Diaries 1993-1999.5

When Ashish Met Shital (film)

Some Plays and Skits

Some things that I won’t admit to having done

The Fountainhead

(Ok! Ok! I’m kidding about the last one!)

First published in India, November 23, 1999 on an MTV laser printer.

Copyright © 1999 by Ashish Patil, 514, Bombay Market, Tardeo Road, Mumbai 400 034. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9 8211 38411

The author of this publication, hereby, (using words like ‘hereby’ normally implies that there’s legal shit involved) reserves the moral right to be acknowledged as its author under any circumstances.

This is a work of non-fiction. All names mentioned in this document are of real people and have not been changed. Any resemblance to any character living, dead, trying to live, trying to die is purely intentional and has been retained to simply malign his or her character.

This publication may be reproduced in any form or fashion (provided you find a good mommy and daddy for it who promise to treat it well) without the prior permission of the publishers anywhere except in Mumbai and outside of Mumbai. (Excluding the southern suburbs of Nepean Sea Road and the nearby cow belt.)

A CIP (what the hell does that mean?!?) catalogue record for this book is not available from the British Library.

To my laptops

(Both Shital and the IBM)

One helped conceive, the other helped produce

INTRODUCTION

“Hi, I’m a book. Who are you?”

How’s that for really sick humor?

I hope this sets the tone for the rest of this book.

FOREWORD

The written word is probably more personal and comes closest to communicating one’s true feelings as compared to any other medium.

I remember my first shot at a book about us, “Ashish Patil Falls In Love”. The descriptions, the writing style, the minute details (like; “She farted out loud in front of me today, it was sooo cute and sooooo smelly”). The record of small BIG events like the first date, the first movie, the first kiss, the first this and the first that. (More of this than that.)

Reading it like a flashback that brings back fond memories even today. It conveys what and how I felt about you. So I thought doing a book this year might be a good idea. (Considering, I’ve already done audio and video.)

Now came the tricky part. Actually doing it. Practicing what one preached. Bolna aasan hai, karna mushkil.

I used to bring home the laptop virtually every weekend and stare at it for hours. But inspiration finally came after a month (the 20^th of October, to be precise) after the jhopad patti dudes had finished banging sticks (dandias) at a half past one in the night. I was indeed feeling very fertile (I mean my imagination, you pervert!) and decided to put pen to paper. Or in this case, mouse to monitor.

Before I realized, I was off. Hey, I’m already half a page down, you know. (And my using Arial in 72-point size has nothing to do with that.) Words were flowing, forming sentences, paragraphs and thoughts. Finding connections, inter-connections freely and comfortably. I was writing. Writing about writing too. But writing. Cool.

This is not a book in the strict, conventional sense of the word. But just stray isolated thoughts, feelings, expressions, and sentiments. All loosely tied together in some way since they are all about you and me and us.

The objective here is not to create some sort of a magnum opus that you could look back at and say, “AAH!” The raison d’etre of this ‘book’ (shall we call it that for want of finding a better descriptor?) is not even your birthday. It’s something that’s just there. Sort of like the guy who climbed Everest giving his reason for doing so as, “Because it’s there”. Good enough for me.

It probably drives you nuts to not have a logical, rational, explicable funda behind things – but that’s why I’m here… to drive you nuts! To nurture the illogical, irrational, inexplicable side of your life. To maintain the imbalance in your life. And to keep you from going nuts by driving you nuts. Go figure.

I have taken care of small things (like I always do) in this book that will make you happy. For instance, you will notice that this book starts directly on pag number 187. There is a reason for that. And a good one at that. And it’s not that the printer screwed up or that I can’t count.

I know how intimidated you get by fat books. And how it’s a ritual to ask, “How many pages down?” like it’s a race. And how depressing it is for you to realize that you’re only 3 page down (with only 3000 more to go). So, I’ve started the book directly at 187. That way when anyone asks, “How’s it coming along?” you can respond with, “Oh, it’s a breeze. I’ve already finished 187 pages!”

This book comes with a reversible flap cover. So if you have trouble reading it in office, college, at home, in the bus, at a client meeting, for reasons of embarrassment (I know I give you enough of those); all you gotta do is flp the cover flap. And voila, out goes musy title and in comes “The Companies Act, 1956 – An Analytical Study of Section 44(D) with added emphasis on sub-section 28.69, clause (iii), row 11, seat 23.” (I think of everything, don’t I?)

I have left out loooooooooooooooooooong winded descriptions (of anything) that you hate so much. “Grisham spends 2 pages on the briefcase, 3 on the sofa and 4 on what she was wearing. Dammit! I don’t wanna know if the mountains were ‘snow-capped’ or not. Just get on with the book and tell me who died and who killed him!” (If you’re wondering where I got that emotional outburst from, it’s from you!) In fact, the longest description in the book that you will probably encounter is the only of the longest description in the book. Namely, this one.

I have also left out all the heavy words from this book. So the most difficult one you will encounter will be ‘Walsingham’. But, I know, every Walsingham girl learnt how to spell it by the time she got to Class X (so what if it was with to ‘E’s.) Most of the words in the book will not exceed six letters. You can breathe easy and put the dictionary away now.

Where required, words are given a footnote, descriptor. E.g. “Ghantaa*” (*Ghantaa, meaning = bell… what where you thinking?)

The events follow no particular chronological order and are arranged, thrown about completely at random with a two-fold objective:

1.     To make reading this book more challenging for you and

2.     So that you don’t flip to the last page to see how things turned out

For your information and to anticipate and end all possible anxiety attacks, I might as well tell you how the book ends now itself. The butler did it.

There. Now, you can read this in peace.

CONTENTS

Chapter	Title	Page
	Introduction
	Foreword
1.	Opposites Attract	196
2.	Selfishness	197
3.	“What Should I Wear?”	198
4.	Jealousy	199
5.	Violent Unprotected Sex	200
6.	Love & Marriage	201
7.	The Sunday Times	202
8.	Boredom	203
9.	‘Driving’ Each Other Nuts	204
10.	Building Nests (and fighting over the bathroom tiles)	205
11.	Sounds Of Silence	206
12.	20 Questions	207
13.	When Harry Met Sally	209
14.	Am I Mature Person? A Scientific Quiz	210
15.	Some More Chhoti Baatein	212

OPPOSITES ATTRACT

An often repeated statement about us. How we are as alike as chalk and cheese. How we have totally different approaches and attitudes to life. How our mindsets are totally different. How you are the rational, stable logical (HAHAHA) one and I am the nutty, creative one. How you are as careless and clumsy as thorough and sure-footed I am. (Your turn to go, “HAHAHA”.)

How, still, our core values, ideas, thoughts, are so identical.

But I am really glad our relationship is not based on mutual interests. Not on something as sill as, “Oh, we are both cricket addicts” or something equally ridiculous.

I feel relationships or even friendships based on mutual interests are doomed. This is because, interests change. Over time they evolve. And if your sole or core connection is that one interest, then it is bound to be doomed.

For a relationship (be it love or friendship or any other type) to last, there has to be more. What you’ve gotta look for is something that gets better with time. Trust that grows through storms, respect and mutual admiration before love; cause you can respect someone you love but you cannot love someone you don’t respect.

So, net-net, what I am really saying is that I am witty, intelligent, good-looking, a keen lover of the arts, with great tastes in music, books an films; I’m friendly, wise, smart, loving and a great romantic.

And that opposites attract.

But I still respect you.

SELFISHNESS

You've taught me a lot of things. How to invest wisely, how to not fritter money away on unnecessary expenses, how to be more ambitious, how to enjoy food, how to dig my nose and get rid of the boogers without anyone noticing… among other things.

But one that that I have really learnt from you is to love.

I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I have to do it again for the record.

I am probably one of the most selfish persons I have ever known, On a selfishness scale of 1 to 10, I’d probably score an 11. The only person I really care about is myself.

But that was until I met you. I remember the day the Contessa rammed into my car at Worli. Your first reaction was, “Ashish!!!, Are YOU okay?” In that daze and through the shattered window glass, it still registered how much you loved me. I wrote my life off in your name for good from that day on, Shital.

Before that I used to probably write, do stuff, more for me, than for you. It was the creative kick that I got out of the process, rather than the end result. But I’ve learnt to think beyond myself thanks to you. And it feels good.

I have realized that it is by not always thinking of yourself, if you can manage it, that you might someday be happy. Until you make room in your life for someone as important to you as yourself, you will always be lonely and searching and lost.

And I am glad and fortunate to have found that someone.

So here’s a rare compliment for you…

I love you Shital. As much as I love myself.

WHAT SHOULD I WEAR?

One question that has been troubling womankind since the beginning of time has been, “What should I wear?”

The interesting thing is that this question is a rhetorical one. Not meant to be answered. Because if you pick an option from the ones offered, you’ve had it. E.g.:

Her: Should I wear the white salwar with the bandhni dupatta or the bandhni salwar with the white dupatta?

(This is assuming that you remember either one. It’s a guy thing. I mean, ask us about the dialogue from that great Kishore Kumar film or about Kapil’s average in 1982… but her outfits… oh-oh)

Me: The white with the bandhni dupatta

Her: Why? That other one doesn’t look good is it?

Me: (Now you’re on the defensive) No, I didn’t say that. Okay, wear the other one

Her: But you just asked me to not wear that one

Me: Uh, oh, ah…

Her: Do you think that makes me look fat?

Me: (HELLLLLLLLLLP!!!) Uh, I have to go to the bathroom

(Eventually, she will decide to wear a totally different outfit.)

JEALOUSY

They say jealousy is a form of insecurity. It makes its presence felt when you are unsure about yourself. You have a constant fear of losing someone or something.

Well, true and false. While I am convinced about your love for me and us. I keep thinking that this is all a dream. I still cannot believe someone like you could ever be seeing or even considering spending her life with a guy like me. It all seems like an illusion.

Something I will wake up from with the sound of an alarm bell. And then I’ll have to get ready and report to work.

It’s somehow too good to be true. That’s why when I see anyone getting even a little closer to you, it’s discomforting. It’s not a sense of insecurity or jealousy, but wanting to be able to provide you with whatever you want. If you want it, I gotta have it. I want to provide you with the biggest and the smallest things that you ever desire and even not desire. I wanna be your Soul and Sole provider. From all the material pleasures to all the intangible things that make life worthwhile (like those fabulous cream massages.) From CDs and cell phones, to clothes and advice on taxation matters also, if possible. (That’s a tall order, I know, but I would if I could.)

I wanna be your everything.

Now, is that being unreasonable?

(Don’t answer that!)

VIOLENT UNPROTECTED SEX

Are you one of the perverts who flipped to this chapter first purely on the basis of reading it’s impure title?

If yes…

Good. I’m proud of you. You’ve passed the test and are fit to be acknowledged as someone I know.

Although the point I’m trying to make is totally different.

What I like about you is that while you are not a prude (I was convinced of that the day you made me wear that thong underwear and brought that whip and those handcuffs along), our values still match.

You still agree with me about ‘saving’ it up for later.

I am also glad you have a voracious appetite (and I’m not referring to your eating habits). Okay, down girl, down, stop tearing my shirt, hey, wait, hold on, WHOA, wait…

PS: One interesting thing to note is that this chapter titled ‘VIOLENT UNPROTECTED SEX’ appears before the chapter titled ‘LOVE & MARRIAGE’. Isn’t it ironic?

LOVE & MARRIAGE

There’s a nice saying I remember reading somewhere. Something about Love & Marriage being like Horse & Carriage. Interesting, isn’t it?

What is even more interesting is the fact that you can have one without having the other. One hears about enough people loving one and marrying another. Loveless marriages are also abundant as mobile phones these days. (I know I can crack that joke now without hurting you.)

I am just really thankful to God that the two of us are blessed enough to be able to have both.

I love you Shital. And I do want to marry you so. I did when I proposed to you last year this time and do so even more now.

“Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be.”

THE SUNDAY TIMES

We have a ritual of reading the Sunday papers together. Not too surprising as it’s the only day we really meet for the entire day.

We split the paper between us, sharing the color and the main section. So far so good. We settle down comfortably and start absorbing the news, lazily. Cool. We finish and then we swap. We’re doing fine so far.

But the minute we swap, we go bananas. Inevitably, once the section she was reading reaches my hand and I immerse myself in it… it becomes more attractive than it was when it was with her. She will find some article that she had missed that she will suddenly develop an urge to read immediately. Almost, as if it were a matter of life and death. Now, the feature could be about cattle rearing in 4^th world countries or even the reproductive cycle of Oonga the She-Walrus. She HAS to read it now.

Of course, I will have found an equally interesting article about the side effects of eating too many home made ‘chakris’ in the same section by then, so the tug of war begins. By the time we finish, The Times of India is reduced to the size of Reader’s Digest.

Which is fair, cause then none of us wants to read it anyway. (Didn’t you know only people in Sec A+ are it’s target audience?)

BOREDOM

I cannot get over the fact that couples get so bored with each other. They want to meet and hangout with others. I believe, boredom between two people doesn’t come being together, physically. It comes from being apart, mentally.

I love the fact that we can spend hours with each other doing nothing and still not be bored. If I had my way I’d just steal you and myself away from everyone and everything and just hang.

What say you?

‘DRIVING’ EACH OTHER NUTS

Most people have never seen us fight in public. To the extent, they almost find us abnormal. Considering we have witnessed fistfights (WWF style), swear matches and worse among most couples we know, they probably find us weird with good reason.

Shital and I, too, argue and fight like most couples. What differentiates us from the others, however, is the reason we fight. While most other couples fight for a variety of reasons like, “You never take me anywhere!”/ Non-compatibility/ Boredom/ Venting frustrations/ Anger on each other or so; we have only one reason. Just one point that leads our potential matrimonial bliss to the brink of disaster.

MY CAR.

She insists on driving the car from every possible seat. The passenger seat, the back seat, the bonnet, the dickey… even from the top of the car.

No matter what I do, it’s always screwed up. Now, I cannot help it if she sees a pothole in the road at Mahim junction from Charni road and expects me to avoid it. I cannot help it if she thinks going to Breach Candy from Nepean Sea Road would be shorter via Cuffe parade. I cannot help it if she believes the car is meant to be washed yourself using Super Soaker Advanced Ariel with ‘micro-wash boosters that remove enzymes and bacterial types that haven’t even been discovered by modern science yet’. I cannot help it if I disagree then. Then all hell breaks loose.

I think, there are possibly 2 reasons for this entire conflict:

One, that Shital hasn’t understood the concept of a car. She has got a bit carried away with the entire ‘pilot-vision’ tag and thinks driving or sitting in a car are like being in an airplane.

Cool. No problem. The only hitch is you are a PASSENGER in the flight. NOT CO-PILOT. The controls are only on my side remember? No clutch, gear, steering, ignition on your side. Thenga, ille-ille-po, khaali, empty, nothing.

So believe the plane story if you’d like but then make noise only about the in-flight food, “Madam, vez or non-vez” otherwise turbulence is inevitable.

Two, could be the answer to the question to the question she often asks me, “GOD! Where did you learn to drive so badly?”

“From her!”

BUILDING NESTS

(AND FIGHTING OVER THE BATHROOM TILES)

One thing I have thoroughly enjoyed (believe it or not) is doing up the 514 loo. Through all the painful and nerve wracking decisions right from the color of the commode to the budget for the bum-washer. Even the endless queries from mom have been okay since we were in it together.

I still remember standing with my arm around you in the empty flat and discussing where we’d put the wall unit and where would we place the (HAHAHOHOHEHEHEHE) bed. It was such a wonderful feeling.

I am still looking forward to completing the entire process and finding the right drapes and bed-sheets and photo frames and wood finish and paint and so on and so forth.

But what is important for us to remember is that in spite of all this, this is just a house. It’s our house, but it’s still just a house.

The home is us. Wherever we are. Wherever we go.

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

I remember you noting once early on when we first started seeing each other, how I used to be very quiet when I was with you and how I used to jabber away when with others. This used to make you fairly comfortable at first.

But then you slowly, realized that I was really being myself when I was with you. That is how I really was.

I am comfortable even in my silence when I am with you. Words almost imply that I want you to be my friend, while silence says that I already accept you as being on.

It is an affirmation of already being together as one.

20 QUESTIONS

I often think that Shital would have made a great lawyer or a cop. This is purely on th ebais of the observation that she is the only person I know who can even answer questions with questions.

Sample a typical conversation:

Me: So, Shital… what do you wanna do?

Her: What do YOU wanna do

(Please note this has nothing to do with her being sweet and willing to take active interest in whatever I wanna do)

Me: Wanna go check out some books?

Her: NO. Is there something else we could do?

Me: Music?

Her: NO. Is there anything else we could do?

Me: Wanna catch a film?

Her: Is there anything good running?

(Meaning, “Is there a Shahrukh film running somewhere?”)

Me: Yeah. There’s ‘Heat’ starring Al Pacino, Robert De Niro and Val Kilmer at Eros

Her: NO. What’s running at Sterling?

Me: I don’t know, lemme check (I flip through the papers). Ummm… Wild Wild West

Her: Sounds bring. Regal?

(By this time, I’d have exhausted the entire Entertainment section of Times)

Wanna go to Crossroads instead?

Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!
No, I don’t wanna go to Crossroads. We went there only yesterday. And day before and the day before that and the last weekend and the weekend before that. I DON’T wanna cross the road near Crossroads until the year 2004. No. I don’t wanna go to Crossroads.

Her: Does that mean I can’t have lunch at Food Court?

THUD! (Sound of me passing out.)

It doesn’t end here. Besides asking too many questions, she also times them beautifully. For instance, just when I’m in the middle of a performance appraisal (please to note: my bonus, increment, promotion all depend on this), the phone rings. It’s Shital.

Her: Hi, Ashu

Me: Uh, I’ll call you back

Her: Hunh? Does that mean you can’t talk now?

Me: Yeah

Her: Why?

Me: I’ll call you in 15 minutes

Her: Is someone with you?

Me: Later

Her: Who is it?

Me: Umm, ah, oh… (and other sounds of embarrassment)

Her: Is it Alex?

Arun?

Jiggy?

Sajjad?

Patricia?

Rupali?

(The entire MTV attendance register is read out)

(By this time, you have already been demoted to the pantry)

Her: Why can’t you tell me now?

Alex: Ashish, get a cup of coffee for the visitors and while you’re at it, just wash the dishes in the basin, OK?

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY

This particular piece actually has nothing to do with this book. But I just love it. (You already know that.) I used to actually have it written at the back of my office notepad. It’s not a very profound or romantic piece of writing but what I like about it is that it’s really honest. Just like your writing. It has to be written by someone who has experienced true love.

Lemme set it up for you. Billy Crystal (Harry) narrates this to Meg Ryan (Sally) on 31^st night after he realizes how much he loves her. It’s realization dawning and a beautiful proposal. Here’s how it goes…

“I love how you get cold when it’s 62 degrees outside. I love the way your mouth turns down just a little bit, right there. I love how it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I even loved when you used my sweater for a Kleenex. I love that after spending the day with you I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. I love how you’re the first person I want to talk to as I wake up. I love how you’re the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. It took me 11 years to figure this out. And I came here tonight because when you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Reading it just makes me feel glad that I have you in my life.

AM I A MATURE PERSON?

A SCIENTIFIC QUIZ

This quiz has been scientifically designed to assess your progress on the human evolutionary chart. The methodology implemented draws upon Freudian principles outlined in the Psychological Maturity Scale (PMS) frequently adopted by the Walt Disney Organization while hiring employees to dress up as talking mice or ducks with names like Mickey and Scrooge and hand out balloons to 8 year olds with bad attitude who kick them in the groin. (Personally, I think they’re all #%^&*# Goofy!)

You are evaluated on a simple scale of Minus 43 (Retard) to Plus 11 (Clinically dead). Answer the questions as honestly as possible (try harder than you did for your final CA). There are no “right” or “wrong” answers. The objective here is not to judge you on the basis of someone else’s prejudiced and arbitrary system of values but to judge you on the basis of my prejudiced and arbitrary system of values.

1.     You are running high fever, you have an upset tummy, have thrown up enough vomit to geographically cover 3 South East Asian countries and have been complaining of a constant headache since the past one week. Your obvious, mature behavioral pattern will be to:

a)    Call the doctor

b)   Take a pill or at least try some home remedy

c)    Ignore it, “It’s nothing, it’ll go away”

2.     You are at the losing end of an argument and are obviously wrong. You would:

a)    Admit your mistake, accept defeat, apologize

b)   Stop arguing, keep quite

c)    Continue arguing, shift the discussion to a totally unconnected “higher moral ground” and generalize about how, “you always do that”, start quoting instances from World War 1 “when you did the same thing” and stick out your tongue at the other person

3.     You’ve just finished hearing a song you like for the 14^th consecutive time in the  car. Your co-passenger is going to have a breakdown (the medical terminology for that is “Ruth-aa-gayee-osis” if he hears it again. Your next move would be to:

a)    Remove the cassette from the player, replace it in it’s rightful cover and throw it away where no one (unless assisted by Mr. Spock) can ever retrieve it

b)   Forward to the next song

c)    Rewind the cassette and replay the same song for the 15^th time. Break into a car jig with your bowel movement keeping rhythm with Sukhwinder Singh’s vowel movement and sing along totally off-key (the same line over and over again) until your co-passenger goes into a coma

4.     You’ve just finished eating a really messy portion of Uncle Corleone’s “really convoluted spaghetti covered in gobs of red sauce and green gooks that are meant to be eaten with toothpicks to make it more challenging for you”. You’ve dribbled all over your fingers, palms, wrists, elbows, arms and shoulders. Bits of red sauce have even made their way into your armpits. Your next logical step would be to:

a)    Excuse yourself to the bathroom and have a quick wash (if not a bath)

b)   Pull out a napkin or a handkerchief (that you always carry, even if you are going for a swim) and wipe yourself clean

c)    Wipe your hands, legs and the snot from your nose on your boyfriend’s sleeve

5.     If it were entirely up to you to feed yourself, your diet would consist of:

a)    Fruits, well-rounded meals comprising a balance of pulses, wheat, rice, vegetables and low-cholesterol protein sources

b)   McDonald’s happy meals (with a free limited edition, completely useless ‘simley face stamp’), oily fries and 23 soft serve cones

c)    Sandwiches, sevpuri, sandwiches, doas, sandwiches, pau bhaji, sandwiches, wadaa pav, sandwiches and sandwiches

How to score:

First of all, you gotta make the woman feel that you really care for her as a person and…

OOPS! Sorry!! Wrong kind of scoring!!! To score yourself on this maturity quiz, give yourself 2 points for every a) answer, half a point for every b) answer and negative 43 for every c) answer. Then total up the points.

If you actually took the trouble to do this, you are a fairly mature person; a lot of us have already flipped to the next chapter.

SOME MORE CHHOTI BAATEIN

I love the fact that we still play that game about who says, “I love you” first at ‘Homi & Co.’ after all these years

I love how we still kiss at the steps every time we leave my house

I love how we still hold hands in the theatre

I still love how your lip turns upwards at the corner when you smile

I love how you rest your head on my shoulder when you go to sleep

I love how you drool when asleep on my shoulder and leave a pool of saliva on my shirt large enough to drown a municipal school

I love how your kiss tastes (both, the SWPs – SAX-waali pappis – and the others)

I love how you nag me to take care of my car

I love how you take care of my finances

I love buying you stuff

I love getting you music (that you’d be too chingoos to spend on)

I love going shopping with you

I love watching you dress

I love watching you undress

I love watching you naked

I love watching you

I love the fact that you actually play along when I ask you to do corny, kinky things (the fact is, and I know, that you enjoy it as much)

I love the way you ask me for money to pay for an ice cream or a sandwich

I love introducing you to my friends

I love going to places with you

I love having you over

I love the fact that you like cooking for me

I love it that you lean how to cook new stuff just for me

I love it when you fuss over me

I love it when you remind me about things, be it birthdays, chores, errands, jobs…

I love your smell

I love your gracefulness

I love the way you look

I love the way you look at me

I love the way you blush when I look at you

I love the way you dance

I love the thought of being married to you

I love the thought of raising kids with you

I love your butt

I love the way you bite your tongue when you’ve screwed up

I love the way you laugh, yeah, even the one where you sound like you are choking

I love the way you can never get a song tune or its lyrics right

I love the way you sing the same song over and over (each time in a different tune)

I love the way you run your fingers through my hair

I love the way you look when you’re sleeping

I love the fact that you are so honest with me

I love it that you consider me your best friend

I love having you in my life

I love talking to you on the phone

I love bouncing off ideas with you

I love it when you tell me the minutest detail about your day, irrespective of whether I can understand it or not

I love it when you worry about me

I love it when you ask me to call you once I reach home however late it might be

I love it that you would defend me in front of anyone else

I love that you always tell me the truth

I love the fact that you buy lingerie keeping me in mind

I love the fact that now when I buy clothes, I think about what you’ll think of them

I love the things you write for me, because they are so honest

I love the fond memories we have of things we have done and places we’ve been to

I love sharing my fears and frustrations with you

I love the fact that you’d rather go with me to a good restaurant than to the ‘right’ restaurant

I love it that you wear the clothes I like rather than what designers thought was ‘in’ that year

I love it that you chose me over someone who has a car bigger and more expensive than my house

I love it that you’d much rather have a quiet talk or even a walk with me than a night at a pub with the gang

I love it that we enjoy being with each other so much

I love holding you

I love it when you praise me, because I know it’s honest praise and something well deserved

I love how you ask me what to wear

I love that you understand why my pursuit for creative satisfaction at work exceeds my pursuit for financial gains. I know that you hate that about me, but you still understand

I love it that you let me be me

I love it that you listen

I love the fact that you put up with my moods

I love the fact that you put up with me

I love the fact that you love me

I love you

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ashish Patil has just cleared 2^nd grade with Honors in Marathi. This makes him the most qualified person to write this book. He knows Shital since more than 8 years now. That also makes him the only person ever willing to write a book of this nature.

This book reveals Ashish’s thoughts and offers valuable insights into subjects like, “Animal Husbandry”, “Terracotta Plantations” and many more. The more you read, the more you will be convinced that whenever the world’s greatest philosophical thinkers get together, Ashish will not be among them.

But we’re sure, you’ll love this book anyway. It’ll irredeemably go on to prove at least 2 things:

1.     He loves Shital more than anyone or anything else in the whole wide world and

2.     Your sense of humor is almost as weird as his

Design by: Ashish Patil

NOTE TO PEOPLE WHO HAVE ACTUALLY READ THIS BOOK:

Please disregard this section. It’s intended purely as a sales tool to con people who decide whether or not to buy a book by flipping to the end and on reviews and opinions of critics who have not managed to get past kindergarten.

“Mr. Patil is the funniest man alive!”

- The New York Times Book Review

“Life with Shital is a deserving nominee for the Booker and the Pulitzer literary prizes.”

- Time magazine

“An action-packed, laugh a minute, suspense filled thriller that has 173 sex scenes and very useful and practical tips on how to become a millionaire and lose 30 pounds in 3 days flat without doing anything.”

- The Times of India