Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Chapter 2: Indecent proposal

Santanu did the best he could to raise his son. Like every rich parent, he expressed his love to his son by buying expensive gifts. Devavrata…
(Ganapati: Here on referred to as Deva, since it’s a pain in the trunk to write the entire friggin’ name EVERY single time. Why can’t you ever come up with smaller names?
Vyasa: Are you done whining?
(Vyasa: Grrr. Alright fine! Just write.
Ganapati grins widely.)

Deva recently had his sixteenth birthday and this year his father bought him the fastest, sleekest and flashiest chariot with gold rims and everything. Deva did not care too much for the gifts. All he wished for was a little personal time with his dad. Everybody knows that killing some animals is the best way for a father to bond with his son. A fishing trip was definitely in order. After all, his dad would go by the river every day, but not once would he ask Deva to accompany him.

Santanu was completely unaware of Deva’s frustrations. Santanu was lost in his own world. He would not admit to loneliness but the truth was he was desperately missing Ganga. He reminisced about the coincidence that bought them together. In Santanu’s words, “Her name was Ganga and I met her by the shores of the river Ganga. They were both called Ganga! I mean what are the chances of that happening?”

That fateful evening, Santanu decided to go walk by the river Yamuna instead of Ganga. As he sauntered by the river he came across a beautiful maiden. All the blood in Santanu’s body quickly rushed to one strategic location and he found himself using his cheesy pick up lines. As Santanu approached her, he was captured by her mesmerizing smell, “You smell like heaven.”
“Wow, how did you guess that I am wearing ‘Heaven’ from the new line of perfumes from Chandramukhi’s secret?” asked Satyavati.
“I have two questions for you, what is your name o heavenly fragrant woman? Will you marry me?
(Ganapati: Okay this time he deserves it.)

Satyavati was a little more conservative than Ganga. She asked him to request her father for her hand in marriage. Clearly not thinking from waist above, Santanu decided to approach her father with the proposal.
Father, “I will accept your proposal on one condition, you must promise that a son borne by Satyavati will inherit the throne.”
Santanu gave it some thought and saw visions of alimony pony. After some consideration he said, “As long as Satyavati signs a pre-nup I accept.”
“Hmm…alright,” said the father, “Do you want to ask any questions to my daughter?”
Santanu looked at Satyavati and said, “Are those real?”
And just like that they got married.

Deva ofcourse got the raw deal here. He could not believe his father abolished his right to the throne over the prospect of marrying a stranger. Quite unexpectedly Deva’s anguish was subdued by Satyavati’s loving nature. He felt like she was the mother he yearned for throughout his childhood. And boy did she smell great. He assured Satyavati that the throne held no interest to him and her son would inherit the throne. But Satyavati’s father was not convinced of this and he would incessantly talk about this with his daughter. Deva took it upon himself to assure Satyavati’s father.

Father, “I trust you to sacrifice your right to the throne. But I am afraid that your children may feel differently.”
Deva was now in a dilemma. The only thing that would appease Satyavati’s father was a vow of celibacy. Should Deva sacrifice his right to get laid, for a father who had chosen to get laid with a stranger over his son?
(Ganapati: Vyasa, don’t you think the drama is a little too much here?
Vyasa: No
Deva decided to make the sacrifice. He took the ‘Bhishma pratigya’ or ‘I will never get laid’ vow. From then on Deva was called ‘Bhishma.’
(Vyasa: Don’t even think about it. Bhishma is short enough.)

Satyavati could not believe the sacrifice Bhishma had made. As a token of gratitude she asked Bhishma to name her children. Bhishma took his sweet revenge and named her first son Vichitravirya (vichitra=weird, virya=semen). She decided to name the second son herself. Her second child was called Chitrangada.
(Ganapati: You are picking long names on purpose. I am going to start charging you per alphabet.
Vyasa: Whine whine whine.)

(To be continued...)

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Chapter 1: The 60 year old virgin

King Santanu was a great admirer of beauty. Yes he had a fetish for pretty women. Despite the cheesy pick up lines he was quite the ladies man. That’s right, size does matter. He drove the ladies wild with his oh so huge bank account.
( Vyasa: Mind out of the gutter please Ganpati and continue writing.)
One day he was passing by the river when he met a well-endowed woman in a scantily clad outfit. Santanu could not stop checking her out and she seemed to enjoy the attention. So Santanu decided to approach her. Overcome by sensations that will not be described here, Santanu said, “I have two questions for you, what is your name o well-endowed woman and will you marry me?”
“I have four words for you,” Ganga said, “show me the money”. King Santanu offered a gaudy diamond ring as a token of his lust and flashy lifestyle. Impressed but not yet convinced Ganga made a list of demands, “I will marry you on the following conditions. I refuse to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. You shall not ask me any questions about my past, where I go or what I do. You have to give me compliments every day. If you don’t fulfill any of these conditions a divorce will follow. Will you please look at my face when I am talking with you?”
Santanu: “Are those real?”
And just like that Santanu and Ganga got married. The honeymoon was spectacular. Two days into the honeymoon Ganga made a shocking announcement, “Santa honey, I am pregnant.” Santanu, “What? I knew I was good but man, I sure outdid myself this time.” After nine long months Ganga gave birth to a little boy. Santanu was ecstatic, “Ganga this is the happiest day of my life. In fact I think I want more children. I want a whole gilli danda team.” But Santanu’s joy was short lived as Ganga made another shocking announcement, “Santa poodle, our baby is dead.”
(Ganapati: Wow, you weren’t kidding about the sex and violence.)
What followed was a roller coaster of emotions for Santanu. The death of his first child was followed by six more pregnancies and all of these babies died the day they were born. Santanu’s fairy tale marriage had turned into a nightmare. He realized he was married to a serial killer. It took seven baby killings and five years before Santanu decided to ask Ganga to stop the madness.
(Ganapati: Seven babies and five years?
Vyasa: What? She had triplets once.)

Santanu: “Honey I know you are a serial killer and all, but I am not getting any younger, can we atleast keep one?”
Ganga: “Good Lord I thought you’d never ask. But by asking this question you have broken the promise you made me before I accepted your proposal. My lawyers will contact you for the settlements. As you know by now, I am not much of a mother figure, so I am more than happy to let you keep the baby.”
Santanu then uttered the wisest words he had for as long as he could remember, “Never again will I marry without a pre-nup.”
A nasty divorce followed and Ganga rode off into the sunset on the alimony pony.
And just like that Santanu became a single dad of the little baby boy he named Devavrata. Rumors have it that it was Santanu’s wild parties that scarred the little boy for life. Others say it was the mom’s serial killing that led to what Devavrata grew up to be — a sixty year old virgin.

(To be continued...)

Monday, November 28, 2005

Vyasa's dissertation

Vyasa did his graduate studies on fictional literature and it was time he did what he had procrastinated for as long as he could. He had to write the dissertation. It was going to be long and detailed with three key elements romance, action and a happy ending. Soon the complicated plot was brewing in Vyasa’s head and he finally wrote the first draft. Vyasa realized he could get a great publication out of this and decided to contact some publishers.
He tried his luck with the most famous publisher at the time, Brahma. Brahma listened to the plot.
Brahma: “The plot is okay. But considering you don’t have any prior publications it would be a great risk on the publishing company’s part.”
Vyasa: “I am willing to do this free of charge. All I want is my dissertation read. I want my work to reach out to people. You know...the publish or perish rule. I don’t care for money. I wouldn’t be going to graduate school otherwise you know.”
Brahma: “Okay but you still haven't written the book. I can’t make any promises without looking at the final version.”
Vyasa: “Well that’s another problem. My advisor wants me to work on all these other projects and I can’t find time to write the book. I was hoping that you can provide someone to write the book for me as I narrate it.”
Brahma: “I generally don’t do this but the booty squad in your draft has intrigued me. So here is a number of somebody who owes me a favor. His name is Ganapati. He may be a little difficult to work with but that’s all I can offer.”
Vyasa: “He couldn’t be worse than my advisor. I will come by when the book is done.”

Vyasa calls Ganapati.
Ganapati: “Hello?”
Vyasa: “Hello this is Vyasa. I am looking for somebody to write a book for me. Brahma said you would be willing to help me out?”
Ganapati: “That depends on what your book is about.”
Vyasa: “The two main pillars of the book are sex and violence.”
Ganapati: “So when do we start?”

And so it came to pass, the great epic called Mahabharata.

(To be continued...)

Saturday, November 26, 2005

My first day in kindergarden (Rated PG 13 for violence)

I am four and life is changing fast and I am very confused. The first day to nursery school was such a shock for me. I don’t like it too much. I am stuck with some 20 cranky kids who are mostly yelling and crying. I decided something terrible is about to happen to all of us so began crying loudly as well. Who are these people? Why am I here? What do they want? I feel like I am in some sort of boot camp because of all the violence we are subjected to. What you are about to read is something no child should have to go through. This is what we were taught in nursery school.

Piggy On The Railway
Piggy on the railway,
Picking up stones,
Along came an engine
And broke poor Piggy's bones.
"Oh" said Piggy,
"That's not fair"
"Oh" said the Engine,
"I don't care"

I felt bad for the piggy but maybe I shouldn’t. Like the wise engine driver said, if you see someone stupid enough to walk on the railway tracks, they deserve to get run over and I should not care.

The Lion and the Unicorn
The Lion and the Unicorn
Were fighting for the crown;
The Lion beat the Unicorn
All about the town.
Some gave them white bread
And some gave them brown;
Some gave them plum cake
And drummed them out of town!

I guess I should beat the crap out of the neighboring kid for his action figure and I might get some plum cake in the process.
I Love Little Pussy
I love little pussy,
Her coat is so warm.
And if I don't hurt her,
She'll do me no harm.
So I'll not pull her tail,
Nor drive her away.
But pussy and I,
Very gently will play.

My teacher seemed to enjoy this one a little too much, wonder why?

Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree.
Merry, merry king of the bush is he.
Laugh, Kookaburra,
Laugh, Kookaburra,
Gay your life must be.

I told Uncle Mishra that he is gay.

Little Bo Peep
Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And can't tell where to find them.
Leave them alone, And they'll come home,
Wagging their tails behind them.

Does that mean no one will look for me if I get lost? I feel cold and alone.

To Market, to Market
To market, to market to buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again, jiggetty jig.
To market, to market to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggetty jog.

After I learned this one I called Mishra aunty…well fat Mishra aunty. I got into a lot of trouble. I am confused.

Goosey, Goosey, Gander
Goosey, goosey, gander,
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs, and downstairs,
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers!
I took him by the left leg
And threw him down the stairs.

People who don't believe in god and people who are old deserve to be thrown down the stairs.

Five little monkeys
Five little monkeys swinging from a tree,
Teasing Mr crocodile, "You can't catch me"
Along came the crocodile, as quietly as can be
and SNAP! Went the crocodile,
and then there were:
Four little monkeys swinging from a tree…
Continue until there are no little monkeys.

If you want to pick on someone make sure they are weak and powerless to get back at you, like grandpa. Monkeys are stupid.
I dedicated the next poem to Mishra aunty the last time she came over. I even added my special touch. I substituted Mishra aunty for elephant to make the poem more personal.

An Elephant Walks Like This and That
An elephant walks like this and that,
He's terribly tall and he's terribly fat.
He's got no fingers, He's got no toes,
But goodness gracious What a LONG nose!

I think Mishra aunty was deeply touched by my gesture. She was speechless.
Mom said watching TV is doing no good to me. So I have to go learn a new nursery rhyme now, about a baby falling from the cradle.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Sketching a woman

Added a new link in the link list called "Sketching a woman". It's a sketch starting from skeleton structure of a woman. The artist transform the skeleton by adding on muscle layers and then giving a more difinitive form. Check it out.