revenge of the red tape and mediocre service

ok so ever wondered what happens behind the scenes when in ramayan or mahabharath one of those fellows in war raised an arro to his forehead and sadi a little prayer and it magically transformed into a super duper multiple arrow or flaming arrow or golden arrow which could oh so kick the flaming silver arrow. Ok if you were born anytime in the nineties and haven't seen maha bharath or ramayan on dd.... sue your parents now for a deprieved childhood . Anyway i was wondering imagine a god who was granting all these weapons of mass destruction and his office. people constantly filing requests for silver and golden and arrows that multiply like they were chinese people or hould i say indian. and the mess ups .

Hypothetical setting in Ramayan:

Call CentreExecutive:Hello thank you for calling shiv ji fire crackers this is Molly speaking how may i help you.
Ravan: Dekhiye madam meine shiv ji se golden arrow pucha tha and you gave me silver one.
Pichle paanch baar se mein prarthna kar chuka hoon lekin raam yahan meri vat baje ke rakh raha hai. aur pichle baar to engaged tone aa gaya hai matlab hadd ho gayi!!
CCE: could you please hold the line.
R: ....
CCE: actually we have checked our lines this could be a problem with your local towers this tends to happen due to conjestion we are having a lot of traffic nowadays .
R: pehli baat to yeh ki "drop the fucking accent, i know your name is malleshwari"
aur doosri bat ki pichli baar bhi apne yehi kaha tha( and he puts his phone down to go back into batle and loose the war and sita {who he has abducted} to a guy called Ram- bo.)

Moral of the story:
There is no justice in this world but lots of bureaucracy..... loads buhahahaha.

Mujhse dosti karoge..

So i recenty checked out the night life of the town i live in. We a bunch of brave desi boys(mostly imaciated) and girls made our way to the local night spot. After a few expensive rounds of beer(a whole crate of which is available in the gas station two shops away for the same price) we all start dancing all the while my desi sensibilities aware of the six and half foot gorrila like creatures dancing around me(read big white texans) . Little have i realised but the table i am leaning on (i am old as far as dancing through the night is concerned i have realised i can only last for so long.... twenty four is such a revalation.. my sweet aiyyappa) has two women who are scantily dressed and have their ahem.. do excuse my language, private parts rather close to my face. all through this while i am stangely reminded of my days in delhi where i used to shit bricks getting into a blue line and start screaming 'excuse me' even before i got into the bus so that the aunty who if you brushed up against even by mistake, would start screamng at you, wouldn't do what she does best, scream. So being the Sambar eating southie that i am i politely excused my self and left the table with beer for the ladies to dance on.


Moral of the story: Sambar eating sensibilities and hot scntly dressed women dancing on your table are are a great combination if you havn't been scarred for life on a Blue line bus.

Sniffle Sniffle Sob Sob...