Thank you God! Thank you dog!


I’m not wearing a tuxedo. My hair isn’t gelled and swept back. My face isn’t freshly scrubbed. Instead, unshaven, unkempt and partly undressed, I lie sprawled on my bed clad in a slippery lungi and naked waist up.  I could very well pass off as a mallu nariyalpaaniwallah, except that, what I’m scratching aren’t exactly tender coconuts.

Nevertheless, I’m all prepared for the acceptance speech. Ready? Here it goes.

Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart! I am overwhelmed by your responses. 1.2 million eyeballs in a day! Even Giselle doesn’t get that many. We’ve created history together.

I accept the status of Superstar Writer, so lovingly and befittingly bestowed on me by all of you. I’m humbled.

Until two days ago, I’d have never imagined I’d enjoy anyone’s writing other than mine. But I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed yours. I have read and re-read your comments, SMSes and mails a million times. Look at some of these gems:

“Ramesh, you are our desi Rushdie. You, too, deserve a Padma (shree)!’


“Rajini sir might be an Enthiran. But our Ramesh sir is a Penthiran!”


“Ramesh for President! Okay…IPL Commissioner!”

I couldn’t have put it better myself. There’s soul in what you guys have said. Ek sachayi hai usme! Keep writing such stuff, guys.


That noise ended my dream speech.

‘Ahem! Excuse me!’

I can’t believe I didn’t recognise that voice or wake up well enough.

‘Autographs later! And strictly no cameras please!’ I said and turned around hoping to see my first celebrity stalker. There was no one.

Then it struck me. There’s only one voice without a face. My lifelong stalker.

‘You are lying, aren’t you?’ it asked with no cushioning whatsoever.


Heard that? One prick is all it takes to burst life’s wishful bubbles. Ask any married woman she’ll tell you more.

‘Did the readers actually say all that?’

I hate courtroom kind of questions.

‘Well, not exactly,’ I said trying to turn this into a billiardroom kind of answer. ‘It’s a matter of interpretation, you see.’

I was hoping we would leave it at that. But life is a check-until-mate game.

‘Oh, if that’s your interpretation, then it’s only fair that readers know what’s mine. So here’s what I think readers said:

“Ramesh, I’m sending a link to Vidyut’s blog. He writes really well. It might help.”


“The idea is good. But it reminds me of Kartik Calling Kartik.”


“Hey Ramesh, my wife’s into Multi-level Marketing. Care to join her?”


“Cut the crap, pal. Don’t hide behind that Inner Voice. There’s only one voice. Own up!”


“You know Ramesh, your strength lies in the shorter version of the game- brand names, bus panels, car stickers. I still remember your classic POP line: Get a Santoor Free with every Indica-VX!”


In life, humiliation is always followed by sermons.

So, thus spake my Inner Voice.

‘You know the worst thing one can do to oneself? Pretend to be what you are not. He who is weak and accepts he is weak is stronger than he who is strong but says he is the strongest.’

This is an old Satsang trick. Confuse people until their mind goes numb. That’s nirvana, too. But I wasn’t going to fall for it.

‘Listen, it’s taken me 18 months of sitting at home doing nothing, to write this one piece. If people think your interpretation is the truth, then so be it. I’m not giving up just yet. Nothing is going to stop me from blogging.’


That’s one voice that has instant effect on everything and everyone at home. Pressure cooker stops whistling; Microwave beeps its submission; even mobile phone stops vibrating, and starts trembling.

‘Yes dear?’ I replied.

‘I believe there’s no money-shoney in all that blog-shog of yours. Is that true?’ she asked from the living room.

I quickly sat up gathering my lungi.

‘Well…not exactly…er…let me explain.”

As I prepared to go across for what promised to be a really long chat, I heard someone giggle. Not sure if that was my youngest son or you-know-who.

So, if there are no more posts on this blog, you now know why.


3 responses to this post.

  1. Posted by Sunit on September 30, 2010 at 3:20 pm

    Actually reminds me of Busybee with Bolshoi the boxer.


  2. Posted by kumar ganesan on October 1, 2010 at 3:59 pm

    God proposes. Dog disposes. Oops have i started my old ways again……


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