THE Toilet Seat Rodin's Blog

Pushpa was getting ready and thinking of Happy. She could not quite put her finger on why she had sought out Happy and invited him out. Yes, she liked the fact that he was very easy to get along with and that he seemed to belong to a class of people who are real- with no affectations whatsoever. Yes, he was a bit larger-than-life but that could hardly be held against someone who came from a culture that practiced hyper-masculinity. If anything, he was better mannered than most men she knew. Not the most polished- she didn't think he would be very comfortable in an ultra-formal setting- but he seemed to have his heart in the right place. And yes, he was a flirt! He had flirted with her on the train and now on the phone too. Pushpa, however, knew that he would never cross the thin line between flirting and harassment. Oddly, she reflected, she trusted him implicitly even though she had met him just once. He would be a great friend if he ever got over his moods- Pushpa thought o...

I looked at my watch. The time was 8:45 pm. I almost jumped out of my skin. Reaching Bandra would take an hour in an auto- rickshaw and I was to meet Pushpa at 10 pm. As I nearly got up, I remembered what our mom always says- Never start anything new at three quarters of an hour. I was getting late but was willing to make Pushpa wait five more minutes than start off an evening with her on an inauspicious note.  Fortunately, my phone pinged and there was an SMS from my bank advising me of a large credit in my account. I opened my banking app and there it was- a six figure amount. As usual, there was a homily from Karan with it- "All work and no play makes Happy a sad boy". I had to smile- trust big bro to take care of his younger siblings.  Karan had sobered down since marriage but the villagers still remembered him as a hell raising, hard drinking Casanova who was as ready with a hug as with a punch. He had terrorized all of the village and us siblings at one tim...

I came out of the shower and just stood right under the fan. The A.C. was gunning on all cylinders and it felt good to be feeling clean again. It was early evening- around 8 pm. I had come home half an hour ago after a hard day's work. My single malt , on the rocks, was waiting for me on the table. I'd made the drink before going in for the shower and now it was chilled, with rivulets of icy sweat running down the glass. What a bloody dichotomy, I thought, we sweat when we are hot, and whiskey sweats when it is cold! God! I needed a drink! In fact, I needed quite a few. I'd been busting my butt the last few days, trying to negotiate a good deal for our organically grown farm produce. The buyers had flown in from USA, driven a tough bargain, but had finally signed on the dotted line. For the next three years, they would buy most of the herbs that were being grown on our new farm. The new farm was my project, and not only had I faced a lot tough questioning from my old man a...

Madhavi felt herself fighting her way towards consciousness through a fog of unconsciousness. The first thing she became aware of was the intense cold that she was feeling. As she became more aware of her immediate surroundings, she realized that she was lying on the floor. Thankfully, the carpet was providing a degree of insulation from the floor chilled by the cold December weather.  However, there was nothing on top of her, and hence, the feeling of being cold.  Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. The act seemed to require a superhuman effort. Raising her head off the floor, she winced in pain. Yet another drinking binge had left her a familiar morning-after-present: a hangover headache.  As she became more aware of herself, she realized that she was still drunk and that her tongue tasted foul. "First things first", she thought as s he managed to pick herself off the carpet and head to the bathroom. Kneeling beside the pot, she shoved a finger down her throat to try and...

Dhoni's Thoughts During the Match. After nine overs of England inning: “Sala thuk gaya, aaaj to Bhuvneshwar to bhi bhoon ke kha rahe hain...Shammi ka to shammi kebab ban-na hi tha.” In the tenth over when Bell got out to Ishant: “Baja di na talli mere dilli ke sher ne!! Jeo mere laal; series jitwa de, CSK me select karwa doonga!!” (Usually playing for the nation is more respected, usually) In the twelfth over, when Kevin got hit by an Ishant delivery: “Thok de sale ko, out ho na ho, bheja khol de sasure ka!!” In the 23 rd over, when Cook got his half-century: “Saale ne jeena haram kar diya hai...Sachin ko alag fikar laga hai ki uske record tod dega; aaj phir phone karega aur bolega, “Mein retirement vaapis leta hoon, mere ko team me le lo”. Abey Sachu, idhar apni jagah ke vandhe pade hain, tere ko records ki padi hai...team spirit hi nai hai!!!” In the 32 nd over when Cook got out: “Sala Ashwin ghatiya se ghatiya ball pe wicket le jaata hai!! Kya ...

I looked up to check the compartment number; sure it was ‘G’. Bingo! I pulled open the door and stuck my neck in to make sure that at least one berth was empty. Sometimes folks just take any berth and have to be requested to move to their berths. Oh! This was one of those compartments that have only two berths. Yes, one berth was empty and on the other berth was....... a very gorgeous woman! She looked around 25, had creamy, alabaster skin, and looked as if she hit the gym quite regularly. Aha! This journey was going to be interesting, I thought.  She must have a drop-dead beautiful smile I mused. However, she wasn’t smiling. In fact, she was looking at me as if she had seen something particularly distasteful. Hmm, had someone, unbeknownst to me, painted ‘Jack the Ripper’ on my forehead? Did I have something like a booger on my face? I ran my hand over my face, nothing; it came back as clean as nun’s habit. Was I wearing one of those T-shirts with sexually explicit sloga...