ooh Barracuda

Listen. If you want to marry someone, send them something like this:
iam kanandevi. i do own businas.one sistar.he was marred. Thank you.
Else choose from these:

i want very simple boy. from brahmin educated family from Orissa state she is also know about RAMAYAN, GEETA BHAGABATA, and other homework

I am a happy-go-lucky kind of person. Enjoys every moments of life. I love to make friendship. Becauese friendship is a first step of love. I am looking for my dreamboy who will love me more than i. Because i love myself a lot. If u think that is u then why to late come on ........hold my hand forever !!!
i am simple girl. I have lot of problem in my life because of my luck. now i am looking one boy he care me and love me lot lot lot ...

(Thanks K.B)

Hokay...coming back to the business of life...came to Hyd on the 6th...dint do much that day, on 7th met A. K., got drunk in a nice way and came up with the philosophy that we are born either too late or too early. If we were to be born in the 1920's or something, then maybe we would have become freedom fighters or something...(dont really know, but am guessing this considering our considerable record of pissing people off)...and if we would have been born in 2020 or something, I really dont know what we would be but I guess we'd be better than this. The traffic in Hyd is still the same (surprisingly, and oh yeah, Dakar, Safari, WRC, SBK, F1, NASCAR eat dust.). Which brings me to a "Hi God. I am Jammi" moment. This moment usually comes when I got shit loads to say but divine again and divine otherwise. You got to see it to see it. You cant believe it anyway. If in case you are aware of the probability theory and everything complex and nobelish (Its that thing which makes you get Nobel prizes.), then be very scared when you are in Hyd. If, in case you are not used to people on motorcycles (or anything with wheels and a motor) jumping off the flyovers right in front of you (when you are going below the flyover), dont be alarmed. What is really going to boil your nuts is when you hear the perfectly trained, genetically altered, high - velocity, potent driving machine disguised as a harmless autorikshaw driver suddenly blurting out "maa ki, indicator to bhi dalna yaaron" (Translation: Oh mother's. You should have put the indicator on at least, you bloody fuck). It is the, and I mean THE perfect example of order in chaos. Which leads me to think that if there is enough chaos, at some point, it will actually look like its all prim and in order. But that is not a sunday kind of thing so we'll discuss that some other time. There is an interesting anecdote which I'd like to share with you. (like the "It happened to me" column in Woman's era. You should read it, makes for interesting bowel movement.)

Me and my boss, A.R, were once going on his Royal Enfield (Built like a gun, goes like a bullet. Nirvana under your ass baby.) and it started to drizzle. We were near a place called karkhana and if you are from Hyd, you'll know this place. Its right opposite the Satyam office. Well, anyway, let me educate the newbies, and this place is like the only narrow culvert where there is a small ditch on either side of the road, and continues on both sides with a normal road. I am confident that you are confused, so please refer to the diagram below:

The traffic that day was almost close to none and then this incident happened....me and A. R. on the bike coming on from one side and some other guy (X) coming in the opposite direction. Exactly when both parties were right in the middle of the culvert and at the point of deciding which driver was worst, there was this moment of confusion among both which led to some amount of expert mis - handling and almost skidding to a halt. (If you are wondering what that crap shit explanation was and you are not a Hyderabadi, you'll lose a lot in translation.) Both parties, now at that point of no return where they decide the offender and the offended, turned towards each other and started shouting (as is usual) to lay claim that they were on the offended side. The dialogue is chronicled below:

Me: Kya yaaron, kya chala re?

X: Tum bhi kuch kam nai chala re na baap...

Me: Arre, kya bol re yaaron, hum loga left mein ich the na...

X: Kaha ka left re bhai? pindi ki meri...

Me: Arre gaali kai ko dere re? maaki, izzat se baat kar re na..

X: arre jao re bhai...maa ki ...kaha se aate ki kya ki...

Me: Aree tum jao....fuckin shit.

X: ae, gaali diya re tu? maa ki, main kaun malum? (This is inevitable in every road squabble, the "Do you know who I am?" moment)

me: Jaa re bhai..(Though the repartee "nahi sir, pehli baar mil raha hun" would have been apt, as quoted by K.B once...There are times in your life when you get the "Hi God, I am (whatever my name is) moment". This happens when something in the matrix is, well, zonked. A singular monologue just after this last sentence altered the course of the intellectually stimulating conversation that was taking place till then. The chronicle continues...)

The Voice: Maaki ki kiri kiri....bhenchod...tum dono ko chalana nai aate re.....

At this point, both parties involved in the parry stopped, gave themselves the "Hi god. We are party A and B. Where the fuck did that come from?" moment. The Voice, came from the ditch. It was from the guy, who, in order to avoid hitting the both of us, fell off into the ditch. Welcome to Hyderabad. We can fit a Hummer in the space of a cycle tyre. And oh, we will.

Ooh....Barracuda.