A Letter. A Makeover. And A … Fag?

Technology has effected many casualties…the most poignant being the art of letter writing! So it was a refreshing change when we were delivered letters early morning, asking us to meet Sangeetha, the anchor.

Have you ever shared a room with 4 wannabe celebrities? My God! I never thought that boys could take so much time to get dressed! This has something to do with their aspirations of wanting to make it big as actors I tell ya. There are hair sprays that spike up your hair! Why anybody would want to look like an electrocuted chicken is beyond me. There’s this one snob amongst us – Smarty Pants … who’s got this “Hail me ye lesser mortals and kiss the path that I tread!” attitude. And he’s got this de-feathered chicken (with a permanent plastic grin on her face) for a partner. She looks more like a certain Mr. Ahuja’s maid-in-bed friend than an uptown girl. Jesus! What’s the channel’s description of an uptown girl? It’s as completely convoluted couple – Smarty Pants and A’s Maid – as it can possibly be.

People, I think we have a faggot amongst us! Now, that is a bold statement and a politically incorrect one, but who gives a FCUK? The perks of technology allow me to bitch the entire set while staying mysteriously invisible! But back to the faggot – this guy’s got the hots for Smarty Pants. Now, if he’s hot for Smarty’s pants, then it cool with me, but if he’s hot for pants in a general sort of way then there's a prob – he’s a roomie! Mr. Brokeback Mountain’s partner is a silent washed out hag called Dukhjeet.

Now the task … The Great Male Makeover Round. The girls were to give us a makeover! Now if it had been limited to an apparel makeover… I could have worn a stupid dress to win the round … but the caveat – the girls could cut our hair too! Now my entire dressing style is to blend inconspicuously into the background. And my partner – the beautiful Ms. Snooty Snobs-on (earlier referred to as Hot Angel) – had dreamt up a makeover that would, in her own words, “be outstanding!” That’s what I was afraid of – standing out! Have you ever tried telling a woman that she’s wrong? It doesn’t happen! So there I was, at the end of the ardor, looking like a Christmas turkey.

And we didn’t even win it, Smarty Pants and A’s Maid did. Guess their fight just before the task actually bonded them better. But the Maid had a point – Smarty had chosen her as a partner because he thought she could perform tasks well.

I almost forgot to mention – Adhyayan Suman had come to the sets today. He’s a cool dude. Patthar Baba, who’s more interested in advertising his family business of selling stones than winning this show, suggested that Adhyayan wear some stone on his middle finger. And Adhyayan thought he was being shown the middle finger and blasted the Baba! You should have seen Patthar Baba’s face!

The day ended with Smarty and Maid getting a shot at immunity from next week’s elimination. At last I got to change into my “blend-in” dress. I was too traumatized by then to socialize. As I drop off to sleep I can see Smarty and Brokeback having a tête-à-tête by the pool. Something’s cooking there. I’ll start my investigation tomorrow…too tired today. Bon nuit.

Raise the curtains, let the show begin…

6:30am…even the sun was sleeping when I went to Royal Palms, the venue of Zing Ne Bana Di Jodi. Today was our first day. They’ll keep us imprisoned here till we are thrown out of the show or as everybody these days puts it – eliminated. The reality is yet to sink in…I’m a part of a reality show! And that too on a Zee channel! Heavy stuff, nah?

But it wasn’t easy man. The channel played a trick on us. There were 13 of us guys and 8 girls. As we were anxiously wondering if a few of us would have to do a Brokeback Mountain, the anchor Sangeeta informed us that the girls would select 8 of us. The rest of us would be packed off from the show! So there we were - 13 guys strutting around, gyrating and stripping to some horrible music, while the girls were checking us out…literally.

If today’s events are any indication of the greater female psyche, they should never pass that Women’s Quota Bill in Parliament. The female of our species just loses it when you make her master (mistress, if you insist) of the game. The moment our girls understood our fate lay in their hands, they morphed into mean bitches. One mean bitch was like Mystique…changing forms, and each meaner and bitchier than the other. At the end of all our shameless gallivanting the girls gave us reward points in the form of placards shaped like puckered lips. Wish they had given us the real ones! Somebody should have told the stupid producers that that would have guaranteed more eyeballs!

Anyways, after chucking 5 guys out, the tables were turned. We, the boys, had to choose our partners! Haaa…ab aaya oonth pahar ke neechey. A tall dark dude snatched the girl I had hoped to choose – remember the hot gal I’d met on audition day? So Miss Hot Angel was gone (her name is derived from a reality show she’d recently won – so she tells me). But hey I got a chick. Now she’s not as hot as Angel but she loves being in her “natural elements”. And anything that crosses her mid-thigh and goes above her collar bone aint quite natural for her! Lucky me! Thank you God!

Oh…I almost forgot about Superbitch Mystique. Nobody wanted to choose her. So from a roaring tigress, Superbitch suddenly became a whimpering billi. But you can’t keep her down man. The moment she got paired she was back clawing and meowing with ferocity hitherto unknown to the human civilization.

The channel must have gotten enough masala from our tamasha for they surprisingly morphed into human beings from TVR scavengers, and allowed us some free time. One more thing – the channel aka Zing aka Zee Muzic wouldn’t allow us our laptops but the Einsteins didn’t bar access to the business centre of the resort!

So ppl, I’ll keep you guys posted on the reality of Zing Ne Bana Di Jodi aka ZNBDJ.

Chala Murari Heroine Dhoondne

This could turn out to be a philosophical post…so the impatient ones bugger off.

I’d gone for the auditions to the reality show. It’s called Zing Ne Bana Di Jodi. Yeah people you got that right. Someone had commented to my previous post accusing me to be a copycat. But mon ami, lemme tell you, this world is full of copycats. Look at this show that I so desperately want to be a part of – the title is ripped off the recent SRK blockbuster! So why blame me alone? Atleast I’m man enough to accept it outright!

That’s enough preaching! Now more about the auditions. I walk into the offices of Zee Muzic (which now calls itself Zing) and I was given out a form and a script. I got to tell you guys … it’s a pretty chilled out office.

The guys who took my audition were wannabes … wannabe Rowdy Rams. One even sported a goatee like him! But he wasn’t that mean. The other one, a tall strapping manoos, was a mean bastard. He kept bugging me … and he was a belligerent MNS type! He wouldn’t allow me to speak in English!

Allright guys check this out. If I get selected (which am sure I will) I’ll be paired with a hottie for 3 months! Yaaaahhoooooo! What a desperate loser I am, aint’ I? One of the questions they asked me was am I open to kissing a girl on the show? What a stupid Q! Would any guy in his right mind say no to such a mouthwatering proposition? But lemme stop..i’m becoming outright lascivious!

There were these guys waiting to audition and one of them thought he looked like Triple H! Our Desi Hunk wasn’t able to figure out the questions ‘coz they were all in English! So he copied it out from my questionnaire! See how the Indian education system helps us in the long run! There also one HOT HOT girl who walked in for the audition as I was about to leave. I wanted to stay back and chat her up, like, you know, “hey there wazza, where are ya from?” But being the gutless, imagination-less loser that I am, I just walked out…gawking at the girl all the way out!

I hope they take me on the show. And I hope I get paired with that girl…And I sure as hell wish I get to kiss her!

An Inspired Begining

I aint a leader…I do not have either the guts or the imagination to be one. But all my life I’ve been a pretty good follower. I’ve followed more than one cause (and often contrasting ones) together, as I’ve never quite bothered delve into the intricacies of ideologies and causes. I’d rather invest my time in TV, Playstation and the net.

And its here, on the net, where I’ve picked up my latest Guru…FIP! I find many similarities between us…we both revel in our “loser” status and both of us are part of something grand…ummm…I’m trying (and hope) to be part of one. It’s a new reality show and completely disconnected with cricket and I will go for the auditions on Thursday. So this gives me the chance to be a much talked about FIP of reality shows…FRC – Fake Reality Contestant! And Times of India could do a story on me too!

I have always wanted to be a part of a reality show. Not the singing and dancing types (of course by now you must have gathered that I posses no such talent), but the other type – the adventure and bitching type. In these shows, I am fully convinced, I can just about hang around for dear life to make it to the top 5. I can not think of anything clever to say in the bitching sessions and I don’t have the balls to be aggressive, so I wouldn’t be an abominable prick (though I do envy the abominable pricks – man do they have confidence!). And since I can’t seem to shake the sloth off me even if my life depends on it, I am sure I would be a disaster at the tasks. Ergo, I’m sure I can slink to the final stages of the show.

Now, the hardest part is to get selected for the show. But there’s one relief – I wouldn’t have to face the bald wannabe baddie of Indian reality - Rowdy Ram*. I am all very confident that I’ll get selected. Methinks I’ll do a puja before going though, just to be doubly sure.

* The “Ram” used here denotes the battering mountain goat and does not refer to the Hindu God. So my Hindu brothers, please don’t flood me with hate comments.