Being Bong!

Alcohol level: 400 ml of Bacardi Breezer and 120 ml of Tequila and Smirnoff. Yes, I have a high tolerance for alcohol. Get over it.

PS: If you’re in Bangalore and would like to get drunk together, mail me out!

When I tell people that I’m a “Bong”, this is what I mean:



As in, I’m a Bengali.

Unfortunately, this is what most people think:




Le Gf was dealing with an outbreak of pimples.

Le Gf: Ahhhhhhh!

Me: What happened?

Le Gf: I have so many pimples!

Me: It’s just a phase.

Le Gf: Just a phase? I’m 26! People my age don’t have pimples! People have pimples when they are 16!

Me: Chill babe!

Le Gf: Chill? You’re the one to talk!

Me: What?

Le Gf: First of all, you’re way fairer than I am. Second, you skin is as smooth as a baby’s ass!

Me: So?

Le Gf: So it means that you have no idea it’s like to have pimples at 27!

Me: Well, I’m Bong!

Le Gf: So?

Me: Bongs in general have good skin!

Le Gf: What bullsh*t!

Me: Don’t believe me?

Le Gf: My previous roommate was a Bong and she had more pimples than I did!

Me: That’s cos she was promiscuous!

Le Gf: WTF?

Me: True story babe! She’s slept with half of Bangalore! You said so yourself! 

Le Gf: #FML 





It’s Down And Dowdy

I was headed to a house party after office and I dropped in at Le Gf’s house to pick her up.

Me: You ready?

Le Gf: Yup!

Me: Alright, let’s head out!

Le Gf: Wait!

Me: What?

Le Gf: Are you wearing that to the party?

Me: Yeah, why?

Le Gf: Don’t you think it’s a little dowdy?

Me: Not at all! I love this shirt!

Le Gf: Errrrrr…..

Me: What’s wrong with this shirt?

Le Gf: It looks like one of those Fab India shirts!

Me: IT IS A Fab India shirt!

Le Gf: My point exactly!

Me: Jeez! I like this shirt, alright!

Le Gf: But it makes you look so…. So Bong!


Le Gf: So this is what is going happen. You’re going to change your shirt, wear something that doesn’t look dowdy, or else we’re staying in.

Me: Seesh! Fine!

Le Gf: That’s my baby!

Me: GF – 1. Me – 0. This ain’t over.

Le Gf: We’ll see about that.

Me: #FML.



Stalkers Extreme!!!

Day: Saturday Night

Location: Parents room

Scene: Ironing my clothes


Me: Mom, Dad. I’d thought, let you know that I’m dating someone.

*Mom sits up straight*

Mom: Really?

Me: Yes.

Mom: Great! I don’t have to find a bride for you!

Me: Errrrr, yes….

Mom: What’s her name?

Me: *******.

Mom: Where’s she from? 

Me: Hyderabad.

Mom: Gulti?

Me: Not exactly. Half gulti, quarter tamil and quarter bengali.

Mom: Jeez, all your girlfriends are such rare specimens no?

Me: Ummmmm….

Mom: Does she have a last name or does she have a string of initials like A.B.C.D *******? 

Me: She’s got a last name. 

Mom: Can she speak bengali?

Me: I guess she can understand but not speak.

Mom: Fine, teach her bengali before you marry her. Then I can communicate with her easily.

Me: Jeez…. I’m out of here!

*After five minutes, I go back into that room*

*Dad is on his iphone and mom on her laptop*

Dad: Does she work in ****** ****** ******? (Worlds second largest spirits brand).

Me: What? You googled her?

Dad: Yeah… We wanted to put a face to that name. 

Mom: This is her facebook profile, right? 

Dad: Her linkedin profile looks good! 

Me: Oh god…. Tell me that this is not happening!

Mom: What is this company? 

Dad: Spirits. As in they sell alcohol. 

Mom: Oh, that’s why you’re dating her?

Me: Eh?

Mom: So if she leaves that job, you’re going to break up with her, right? 

Me: Oh god! What fresh hell is this?