Monday, November 14, 2016

Hong Kong - a cheesy tax-free country



Image result for woman speaking to another


Yesterday:
Scene- I am in the Tax Department, standing at the Enquiry counter.
Me: Hello Madam, I need to file the tax return for my company, should I go to counter 1 or 2.
Lady: Taxi?
Me (switching to Chinglish): No no! My company. Tax. I file.
Lady: Aiyya! Taxi ah?
Me: Huh?
Lady: You go counter 2. 

Lesson:  If tax is taxi, taxi is also taxi, Hong Kong is a tax-free country?


Today:

Scene- I am in a restaurant and food is just served.
Me: Hello, can I have some more cheese please

Waitress: Huh?
Me (switching to Chinglish)- I eat more cheese. Is ok?
Waitress: Sorry Missy ah, we no have.
Me: I want Cheesy
Waitress (adding cheese): More?
Me (smiling): Thanks

Lesson: Hong Kong is all about cheesy masses.


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Lips dont lie



This woman at my workplace- her story is truly inspiring. 
She is the ray of hope for many. Especially for perennially mentally f*cked up and depressed people like me. 


There are moments when I feel too lonely, sad and depressed and feel I’ll die alone in this country of dry, cold and rude people. And, even when I am dying, and I shout in my poor Cantonese “I am dying”, Chinese people around might mistake my tone and think – Oh she is weird, why is she yelling saying she loves chocolate do-nuts!

So, now, whenever I get such do-nuts eating thoughts, I mean suicidal thoughts, I just think of this diva.


Why do I think of her? Is she that angelic?


Well, she is the ugliest woman I have seen in Hong Kong. She is fat and short.
She is gossipy, spine-less creature; back-bites against everyone; lies every second of a minute, has a crappy sense of humor, and is late to work everyday.
When she walks, it looks a used-up plastic bag full of trash rolling. Well, I am not interested in defining how the whole of her body looks like, but one part of her body that can’t be overlooked: Her lips.


Her ugly lips are so big and wide- it looks like two caterpillars crawling on her face. The shape and color of the lips being irregular, it looks as if she accidentally bit the caterpillars with her teeth while they were crawling over her mouth and after chewing for a moment, threw up immediately; now their inured bodies are oozing out the creamy-pus fluid while they continue to grovel.
When she stands in front of you to speak, her moving lips give out a sight of terror- you keep on contemplating how she is balancing the caterpillars on her mouth while speaking, or worst, other caterpillars will come out of her mouth. 
When she eats something, food keeps sticking on her lips for hours. And when she licks her lips later to get that off, trust me you'd prefer getting blinded than to see that awful act!


And, she declared the other day, showing her ring finger that she got engaged and is getting married next month.


That moment of suprise shook me from inside. I couldn't fathom an appropriate reaction to that!
So,there exists a person, a man to be specific, who fell in love with a woman like her? REALLY!!


Voila! And there I see lights in the sky.
I realized that if somebody can get married to her, I mean HER, I mean nobody else, but "HER", yes,  “THE HER”, I will certainly not die a lonely death. 
If she can find somebody to love her, my chances are 11 out of every 10 cases. 


Her engagement has filled me with hopes of promising future. 
Each time she crosses to pick up papers from the printer, or bumps into the cafeteria, her caterpillar-laden smile fills me up with love, light and hopes.
 
Imagine, there is a guy in this world who has taken the commitment to kiss THOSE LIPS for the rest of his life. My God!
Somebody, please nominate him for bravery awards!


And there is this me who repents on all those stupid bad decisions taken in this life, look at that gentleman on this planet on his blunder-making spree. 

And, that made me curious to go and meet that guy and personally thank him for making me feel less bad about myself.


Well, the possibilities are high- the guy lost a bet, is a lunatic, is broke, is a crack, is blind, had a memory-loss, or worst, he loves caterpillars. After all Chinese cuisine has everything under the sky.


I can definitely ask her for her pre-wedding shoot to see who this mysterious guy is, but then photos, in this era of photoshop, where she would like Angelina Jolie, doesnt make sense. So, I am really keen to meet him in person and know more about him, and the circumstances that led him to....


But, am concerned, if none of my predictions is true and he is a normal guy, then what! How would he kiss her at the wedding!


If I am a guy, keep aside my lips, I won’t put any of my other body-parts between those pair of caterpillar lips. But, I know, men will be men!
 

P.S. I am so tempted to post her picture here but I know I ll get sued

Monday, September 19, 2016

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Friday, September 16, 2016

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Monday, April 18, 2016

The smoldering Sun



The Sun 
burns the whole day
smolders during the dusk
scatters ash.

The nights hence
continue to fall...




Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Life- At the Start or the End



Probably Life starts after all the miracles have extinguished
Probably Life is more about what happens after the story ends

Probably what we are taught to read as the Start is actually the End… 






P.S. I am not going to believe that it is midway. Don't tell me so.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Addiction

- Elizabeth Gilbert 

Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story.  It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted –an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. 
Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted ( not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore—despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere…because he used to give it to you for free).  Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have that thing even one more time. 
Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you.  He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. 
The irony is, you can hardly blame him.  I mean, check yourself out.  You’re a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.  So that’s it.  You have now reached infatuation’s final destination—the complete and merciless devaluation of self.