Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Why Men Should Support Women's Liberation



Men of the world, awake
It’s time for the hold to break;
A deadly hold of strangulation,
On half the world’s population

It all began with mighty Ben,
Who, like other good cavemen,
Went out with his wife to hunt,
Before they heard that ominous grunt

The wife said “Wife weak, Ben strong.
Wife afraid of doing something wrong.
Stupid wife go back to den.
Will you fight, Mighty Ben?”

Dumb Ben felt his pride grow,
Thus inventing the male ego.
He risked his life for livelihood,
The wife had lots of free food.

Thus began the deception,
And centuries of exploitation.
Lives of men kept getting worse,
While women ruled the universe.

But then came the biggest joke
Played by women on the men folk.
They imagined it’s a ‘male dominated world’,
And at poor men, this allegation hurled.

And that’s how the world came to be;
It’s out there for all to see.
Look at what we’re made to do!
If you can’t, I will show to you.

Men are the dominant sex, aren’t they?
They ‘get to’ go to work everyday.
They sweat and toil and earn the bread;
Until, one day, they drop dead

While the poor oppressed ladies
Are forced to be home at ease.
They learn to sing and dance and knit;
That’s all for which they are deemed to be fit.

The young men, if brought up right
Are fearless and will battles fight.
The meek girls, they are mere girls;
They’ll learn the arts and comb their curls.

And so it passed for many years.
We never even learned to shed tears.
Until a smart man thought “Oh dear,
Something fishy is going on here.”

He figured the whole conspiracy out,
And hatched a plan to reverse the rout.
He began a movement called the ‘Women’s Lib’;
His only weapon was his fountain pen’s nib.

‘Virginia Woolf’ was his assumed name,
And he earned quite a bit of fame.
He spit venom against the ‘evil men’,
And all through his fountain pen.

So just like there was Dumb Ben,
There were several dumb women
Who believed the word of Virginia,
That going to work was a good idea.

And so it came to pass,
That women want to surpass
The stupidity of our ancestors,
And toil hard with their sisters.

And hence, my fellow men and boys,
It’s time we raised our collective voice
And support the feminist movement too,
Cause that’s really the right thing to do.

Amen.

If you liked this post, you may also like:
Angry feedback of a bored mind
Help yourself help others

Sunday, September 13, 2009

The Case of the Panting Panda-man (Part-II)

(Read Part-I here: http://secret-apple-sauce.blogspot.com/2009_02_01_archive.html)


“And lesson no. 13, my loyal friend, is to be alert. ALWAYS. You can’t afford, for a moment, to let your attention slip.
By the way, did I give you my Mercedes pen? I’m sure I had it on me in the morning..
Look! That man in the red shirt is running away! I’m sure he’s the thief...”
It was an ordinary day In Pune. Not so ordinary for me, though. I was getting detection lessons from the God of detection himself, Detective Deboo Dubey from Darbhanga (DDD). We were just getting off the train from Mumbai, in Pune for our first case, The Case of the Panting Panda-man. (Don’t even ask.)
Not a great start to a detective mission.


----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I was the one who discovered Mr. Rajadjyaksha’s body, here in the upper bedroom, yesterday night. I’m Sulakshana Rajadhyaksha. I’m a widow”
“Aww, you needn’t put it like that, we figured that out..” said Deboo.
“NO! I’m his sister. We stayed together. He never married.”
“Oh. Err.. so who poisoned him?”
“Poisoned? ”
I, for one, plainly saw the long ornate knife penetrating Mr. Rajadhyaksha’s chest. Deboo was surely playing mind games with Ms. Sulakshana. Was she a suspect?
“Ha! Everyone lies. Never mind. Tell us all about it. You can trust my friend, Dr. T. He’s trustworthy. Also quite smart.”
“Actually, he’s not the one I’m worried about. Anyway, here’s the whole story…”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DDD was staring thoughtfully out the guest room window, no doubt thinking about the case.
“Deboo, why don’t I lay out the facts of the case, just so everything is clear?”
“Yes, yes my friend, go ahead. We must be clear.”
“Ok. So the dead man ‘s name is Shrikant Rajadhyaksha, fifty-two, unmarried, rich, living with his sister in a respected neighbourhood in Pune, with seven servants.
“SEVEN servants?! Are you sure?
“Yes. A gardener, a cook, two domestic helps, one to do the cleaning, a companion for Ms. Rajadhyaksha and one to take care of the dog.”
“Hey, don’t call him that. You didn’t even know him, T. Just because he’s dead now…”
“No Deboo! They have a real dog, Tommy. He’s an Alsatian.
By the way, do you still want to call this case…”
“The case of the panting panda-man? Yes.”
“But.. why? Who’s panting!? And who the hell’s panda-man!?”
“T, you’re alright as a sidekick, but you really have no imagination. For example, I already know the profession of the criminal. Do you?”
“You know the criminal’s profession? Who..how?”
“Coolie, ofcourse! Didn’t you see the red shirt when he ran away?”

A quick note: After just two posts, it came to my attention that Detective Deboo Dubey and Dr. T have become quite popular. I have been led to believe that this 'franchise' has potential. Hence, there are unlikely to be further posts in this series. I will endeavour to bring DDD and Dr. T to you in a more refined form, through more than just off-the-cuff blog posts. Thanks for the feedback, and I promise you these dumb detectives will be back to entertain you!

Friday, August 14, 2009

By Toutatis!



My latest obsession, these couple of weeks, has been Asterix.
There you go ---> ********************.

Sorry, just kidding. I meant the comic.
Picked 4 Asterices at King's Circle after a wholesome Mysore Cafe meal two sundays back. Read them one by one, slowly, relishing each and every frame of mind-blowing detail and endless punning. Laughed at every single drawing and more importantly, every single Gaulish name -
Chief Vitalstatistix.. wine-seller Localpolitix.. Roman legionaries Gastroenteritus and Arteriosclerosus.. Fishmonger Unhygienix.. Bard Cacofonix..the list is endless.


Now, last weekend, Bambu, Atku, Sayantan (who's rumoured to be getting married in August, by the way), Sigmaxxe and I went for a trek. The previous night had been a little..err.. profitable.. for a certain public house in Mumbai. Like people tend to do on treks, we started this crazy game of coming up with Gaulish names for people we knew. So many names came up, I felt like putting them up here.. I take credit (or blame) for most of them. Wherever the idea belongs to someone else, I have duly referenced it. So here you go:

Yours truly: Toomanydrinx!!! (this was contextual, and irrelevant now)
Bambu: Logistix
Sayantan: Mario Augustus (Roman)
Toto: Drumstix (ref: Sigma)
Sigma: Sigmachix (first female machaxxe member)
Sumit Kumar: Highermathematix
Pallu: Telepathix
Seb Morris: Esoterix
Teelu: Sarcastix (I wanted this for myself, but Gubbs overruled)
Phreejo: Sonofabix
Foojzi: Campootergraphix (ref: Gubbs)
Prasoon: Pickupchix
A girl I know: Vartix

And now, my favourites:

Arjun Shetty: Sixbysix
Gubbara: Dbabnix (ref: Vanshika (?!) ..how the hell did I not think of this!!)

Phew.. this is kinda tiring.. Readers are welcome to suggest more..
Till then, I'm off to have some wild boar and bash a few romans. Hic.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Angry feedback of a bored mind




Blogging is an art. Too bad most people who do it can't get beyond doodling.
For example, most blogs, or almost all, are titled in this style:
'X Y of a Z mind'
For example, (Just to be clear, all examples in this post are true. I haven't made anything up.)
1. 'Random musings of a wandering mind'
2. 'Simple thoughts of a complex mind'
3. 'Sleazy thoughts of a perverted mind' (Ok, that i did make up)

And as if the title is not repulsive enough, there's a description below it:

'All about I, me, myself' (Thank god for the blog! How else would the world get hold of all this priceless knowledge?)

'The myriad thoughts that run through my mind shared with you' (Now that is an interesting read. Readers are crazy about this kinda thing)

And the most common: 'About life, the universe and everything' (Sigh. Poor Douglas Adams. He should never have come back from his year spent dead.)

Let me give you some concrete examples.

A friend of mine wrote a post - offering advice to Manmohan Singh on how to eradicate poverty and fix India's economy. All explained in thirteen crisp points. I think Manny has yet to come across it, for my friend still complains about not having enough money. Anyways, it went somewhat like this:
1. Ban sugarcane farming in north-west Guntur in leap years
2. Make marijuana legal in Ohio (I think this was lifted from his own 'What Obama should do' post)
3. Increase the money supply....and so on

My keen observing eyes didn't fail to notice that he had also slipped in a point saying 'Eradicate poverty & fix economy' in the middle.

This torture, however, is still avoidable. But not the kind directed personally at you.
My friend Nithya Anantharamakrishnan (name changed from Nithya Ananthakrishnan to Nithya Anantharamakrishnan to protect identity) writes a blog too. Unfortunately, regularly.
She once insisted that I read her latest post online and give feedback immediately.
It began, "Is life nothing but a motionless journey towards eternity amidst the noise?". I felt cramps in my right calf. It went on.. "In the evening, when I asked my husband if he wanted Sushi or curd rice for dinner (yes, ABCD), he said 'Either'. Was I to believe that this was a moment of truth where reality dissolved and the walls of the house took me in their arms as if to comfort me? An unconditional desire to let go..."
Here, I suddenly felt an unconditional desire to let go and headed for the loo. I told Nithya Anantharamakrishnan (name changed) that I had to go, and signed out. It turned out to be a false alarm and I didn't have to let go, but Nithya anantharamakrishnan (name changed) will never find out.

I'm not asking much of these people, or of you.
Of these doodlers, I just ask that they STOP. Like now.
Of you, I just ask that you only read high quality award-winning blogs. This on, for instance:
http://secret-apple-sauce.blogspot.com/
Ciao.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Happiness!!!!


Happiness. Aaah!. That one elusive feeling….., I must say, and I’m sure many of you feel this too, is what’s wrong with this world. Happiness shouldn’t be allowed in public places, where all of us, us normal miserable people, can see it. Whenever someone happy is found shoving their unsolicited smile in normal people’s faces, they should be caught, and sent to some far off island where noone can see them again.

I mean, we’re like, going about mindin’ our business, consistent frowns on our faces, when these creatures pop out of nowhere, all sunshine and sparkling white (visible) teeth, and push us further down into the rut we’re already so firmly rooted in. Someone’s loving their work, doing cool things, traveling n shit, while others are going coo and muaah about their loved one.

If I were president, I would make a great many much-needed changes, required by society, and warranted by sound public policy. I would kill all those happier than me. I much prefer to be surrounded by people less fortunate, more miserable, less happy than me. That makes me feel better. In fact, happy people shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near unhappy people.

I mean, think about it. I’m not being selfish here. At all. All I’m saying is its just against natural law to be lucky, happy etc. These people are anomalies that should be weeded out. Save these anomalies, the world is just a sorry place we’re stuck in till… you know, till the time when……. Err…… sorry. There’s no till really. The world is just a sorry place. Like forever.

Our life is nothing but a painfully long and boring journey that starts with Us crying. And then its just a slow, downward slide towards death. Period.

I rest my case, and I think I’ll go to sleep now. Have to live through yet another miserable day tomorrow.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Wrong start


“No, really. This is the first good thing that’s happened to me in years.” Said Ganesh.

“Are you serious? You are like.. me. You are just another me!” Sameer continued, “So, let me see, you suck at your work, as do I. You have fights with your wife (Mridula – isn’t that the name?) everyday, as do I. You get pushed around in buses and ignored at malls, get snubbed by waiters in restaurants, always get caught when jumping lights and generally suffer all the time. As do I! It sucks to be a loser, but it’s comforting to know there’s someone like you.”

“Yeah. And to be honest, I have never got a compliment for how I’m dressed. Today’s a first. In fact..err.. the @$$ of a boss I have never tires of pointing out how clumsily dressed I am. I don’t get it.. I spend so much time picking my shirts, and he likes this one! Not just him, I get some ten compliments in a day for the shirt! It doesn’t even fit properly. It’s your shirt for god’s sake. I picked the wrong one in the morning.. it is so similar to mine..”

“Sorry about that, I picked yours first, by mistake. But it seems to have worked for both.. God knows how many compliments I got today – a first for me too! Good thing they made us share rooms at this stupid seminar. “

“You bet. First serendipitous event in my life, I would say.”

“My friend, you’d probably flip at what I’m going to say now, but I have to at least share the idea with you..”

“An idea? Try me.”
-----------------------------------
One year later
-----------------------------------
“It’s been a year, Sameer. You think we should continue with this?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m a superstar. My boss loves me. Sorry, your boss loves me. So do your neighbours! And since the time you’ve started to shop for my clothes, I get compliments for looks almost everyday, waiters and conductors call me ‘sir’, and traffic policeman smile as I jump lights..it’s bizarre.”

“I know! It wasn’t half as tough as we thought it would be, no? I was surprised to see our bosses accept the swap so easily. Guess they were just eager to get rid of us. The other us, I mean.”

“Hey, but you’ll have to give me a bigger list of South Indian dishes. I love the food and I’m much healthier now, but I want more.”

“Thank God for that seminar.. I guess.. we were just born in each other's place.”

“Hmm.. now only if Mridula and Swati would relent…”

Saturday, April 25, 2009

A different morning


There was something different about the air that day.. It was unusually cool and it somehow felt very fresh. As Niku walked down the pavement, she felt as if her legs were carrying her by themselves.. she just couldn't feel any effort being put in. Morning wasn't her favourite time of the day, what with the alarm, the unbearable journey to work and the idea of a long day of hard work, but this morning was different. It felt like breeze blowing in her face.. and it wasn't only because she wasn't going to work today.


What lay in store for her? Was he going to say something.. say something special? It couldn't be.. she had known him for quite a while now - he was a nice guy, decent and cheerful - but they were always friends. But then again, she was attractive and single, and so was he.


The red skirt in the display window of 'Bold' caught her eye. She wished she were wearing that skirt right now and the white top her mom had bought her. She checked her watch.. she had no time to stop and shop right now.. maybe later. She thought back to the last conversation they had had, and a few more before that. There wasn't even a hint of romance in them. They'd talked about movies, about travelling and painting. She'd told him how she wished she were doing something more interesting with her life than reading laws, about her secret desire to work in an ad agency. She remembered the way he smiled cheekily that time...


What indeed was so important that he asked her to take the day off and see him in a cafe?! He said he'd change her life today.. that he would show her something today..or did he say someone? He seemed in a hurry to hang up.


She smelt the faint fragrance of fresh flowers as she passed the florist. Somehow the city looked more colourful today. She looked up at the sky, it was clear and blue.. bluer than usual. Actually it was bluer in the place she looked than elsewhere. She looked closely, and noticed that it was getting even bluer there. Strange.. it was dark blue in a spot, and the blue faded outward.. then the dark blue spot started getting bigger. And bigger.. no wait, it seemed bigger because it was getting closer.


Then, she understood. From out of the sky, this thing emerged and protruded out towards her. Sort of a reverse whirlwind in the sky, with the pointy part pointing towards her. Then suddenly, the tip opened. Then it opened wider, and even wider. Then, a large three eyed monster, made of jelly flew out with outstreched tentacles, picked her up and disappeared inside the thingie. It then closed and disappeared into the sky.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

अशीच एक गंमत ...

With apologies to non-marathi readers.

अदिती माझी मोठी बहीण
बहीण कसली मास्तरीण
बालपण माझे केले कठीण
धडे शिकवूनी

आगाउपणाला नाही सीमा
विरोध केलात तर करेल खीमा
नाहीतर करेल तुमचा मामा
हसत, नकळत २

केली माझ्यावर दादागिरी
पडली पटी-पटीने भारी
आवाज मोठा आमच्या घरी
केवळ तिचा ३

Tough-love म्हणे म्हणतात ह्याला
दूर गेल्यावरच अर्थ कळला
तेच धडे आता येती कामाला
रात्रं- दीन

अदिती माझी मोठी बहीण
बहीण नव्हे बेस्ट बहीण
पुरे आता खोटं लिहिणं
भिडू म्हणे 5

Friday, April 10, 2009

For the love of Depreciation.


Have been away from the blog for many days for a couple of reasons. One of them is that for a long time now, I haven't found anyone or anything to mock. The world is turning into an uninterestinger place everyday... very few jokers left (thank god for IIM Bangalore).
But today I decided it's time for change. Why be so negative all the time? (We already have communists to fulfill that function) Why not honour someone for a change?
Today, i dedicate this post to the glorious profession of accounting. This is in honour of the Chartered Accountants in India.

CAs have made a great contribution to this country through their work in accounting. Ketan Parekh (who i think made crores on the stock exchange), Shekhar Kapur (makes movies), etc. <--- (this last word means that I know many such examples but choose not to share them with you). CAs also have great linguistic skills. The other day, I asked this CA colleague where he lives. He said he lives in Thane, which is considered to be in Mumbai, unless otherwise specified (section 34 of the Bombay Rent Control Act, 323 BC read with Mumbai jurisdiction rules as specified by the Registrar from time to time). I have never heard anyone speak ancient Babylonian so fast before! This holds true for all CAs. I was once umpiring for a cricket match, and had to make a narrow boundary call. The CA fielder explained that the ball fell in the area appurtenant to the rope thereto and such area, inter alia, is deemed to include the area not included (as part of custom) in the ordinary course of business in the play area for a reasonable period of time. His team won the match convincingly. Mind you, CAs are also very interesting as people. I was talking to 3 CA friends just the other day. I casually enquired about their respective passions in life. Pat came back three replies, and the variety which they encompassed was mind-boggling. Such varied interests in life in such a small group! One said section 54EC, Two said accounting standard 18 - Related Party Disclosures (I knew someone would say party!) and Three said Reduction of capital under section 100. WOW! I can go on and on in praise of this great profession, but I have to stop somewhere. Because, after I finish writing, I need to go read that newest exciting clarification published by the institute on treatment of deferred taxes in case of impairment of assets in incomplete period financial statements. This statement of mine shall not be deemed to mean, unless otherwise specified, that I do not have interests which are significantly different from, within the meaning of the General Clauses Act of 1822, those specified in the third Schedule of the Public Interest (Meaning and Interpretation) Rules, 1943. Did I mention my former profession, by the way?

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

The Case of the Panting Panda-man


It was the kind of morning Mumbaikars from world over will fondly remember from their childhood days. You, standing on a railway platform with roughly 63 X 10^38 other people. Bodies that feel like sponge dipped in oil, and smell like..well, sponge dipped in other unpleasant substances pressing against yours from all directions, including up. Temperature that's only a few degrees above the sun's.

While I was waiting to receive the great DDD, I recalled that I'd never seen a private detective before, and i'm pretty sure noone ever has. Because the only known detectives are characters in novels, and the others have done a pretty good job of protecting their privacy.

"Shh.. password?" said this balding coolie with a goofy smile who owned the body pressing against me from the west.
"Luggage nahi hai" I replied.
"Damn. Wrong password again. Where the hell is this chronicler guy !!?"
My heart stopped beating. "Hey. You are Detective Deboo Dubey!!? I'm Dr. T. My function is to follow you everywhere and act dumb enough to make you look smart."
"Yes, yes! thank god.. i was tired of this sneaking up to people and asking for the password."
"What password?"
"The pass.. damn! I forgot to tell you about the password on the phone. I always use it in covert operations. Anyways, people here are really rude. Some even gave me alms! I'm offended. In Darbhanga, they treat you like any honest, upright man should be treated. They beat you up and kidnap your kid and YOU get to give away money."

I was finally face to face with Detective Deboo Dubey from Darbhanga! What smart a man he must be. You'd expect a detective to have an imposing personality, a beaked nose, wearing a hat or beret or something. But Deboo managed to disguise himself as a withering, balding dirty 40-year old coolie. Though why he was disguised I wasn't sure. When i asked him about it, he murmured something about the art of dejection (I think he meant deduction). But i'm pretty sure that was another ploy of his to mislead his dangerous foes. When he finally took off his makeup, I saw what he really looked like.. a withering, balding 40-year old coolie.

Back home, when I was thinking hard about what i can write in his praise, he sprung out of the bathroom after his shower and rushed towards me.
"Rise, my dear friend. It's time we start work on our first case. Can you lend me a 100? Thanks. So, i was saying.. our first case is called 'The case of the murder'."
"Deboo, can't we have a more interesting name? What is the case about?"
"Not very sure.. I think the lady mentioned robbery on the phone, but i may have misheard. But she did mention she'll pay us some fee. Pay me some fee, I meant. You'll bloody earn royalty on the chronicles anyways. "
"Fine, whatever. But I want to give it a better name. I'm calling it 'The case of the Panting Panda-man'."
"Good man, there's no time for small talk. Let's rush out now."
"Aren't you putting on clothes?"

And so we were out of the apartment in 2 minutes, on our first case.
"Wait." said Deboo, on the pavement outside. We're forgetting something very important.
I waited with bated breath for whatever he was about to say. My first brush with genius!

"I think i left the latch key inside the apartment. Damn."

(to be continued)

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Dear Balky,

Received your inputs. This was really helpful. Appreciate it.
My team will take a first stab at putting the materials together, and then we can touch base in the p.m. to make sure we are on the same page.
Just to give you a heads up, we could not get a lot of color on the APAC numbers, hence we have used ballpark figures. My sense is that we can get a lot more meat once Paddy gives us the entire download and then we can get cracking.
Let me give you a shout at 18:00 Eastern and then we'll take it from there.
Cheers,
G. Vishwanathan Iyer
Chennai

I MEAN, SERIOUSLY...
WHO ARE WE KIDDING?

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Three NISTs and two THs (pronounced THUHs)

I often get requests from eager parents to career-guide their young children. Contrary to what some ill-wishing ‘friends’ would assume, I get these requests simply because of my infinite wisdom. It has nothing to do with my advancing (sic) age. I believe that parents are the second most responsible factor in influencing children’s careers. ‘Influencing’ in the case of careers means spoiling. The first most responsible factor is careers themselves. They’re all rotten. Well, except the two THs (pronounced ‘THuh’s), of course. So I decided to compile my thoughts to let even future generations get the benefit of my unmatched intelligence.

There are 4 kinds of occupations, namely the 3 ‘nist’s and the two ‘Th’s (pronounced ‘THuh’s). The classification is based on fraud.. rather their relationship with fraud:

1) The Pollutionists – The worst kind of career. These people generate - hold your breath - immeasurable quantities of toxic gases every reported quarter, which simple people call ‘fart’, causing global warming, air pollution, business jargon and other evils in the process. What sets these people apart from the other nists is that they defraud people, but they themselves think they are doing good work. This, according to me, is the most pitiable state of human existence. Worse even than poets.
Occupations under this category: CEOs, economists, management consultants, astrologers, exit poll surveyors.

2) The Illusionists – What differentiates these people from the pollutionists is that these people know that they are defrauding people. This knowledge, combined with a sense of humour can result in great works of art (in the form of powerpoint presentations, business letters, stolen money, etc.). However, without a sense of humour, this can result in depression, constipation and even getting caught.
Occupations under this category: Investment bankers, lawyers, accountants, Ramalinga Raju.

3) The Delusionists – This category is difficult to understand. And precisely because of that reason, it is widely respected by a large number of morons who call themselves art critics. The Delusionists unintentionally defraud people and themselves. What differentiates them from the pollutionists is that the pollutionists defraud others only. Further, the output of delusionists themselves is not harmful per se. The output of critics which is based on their output, however, is. The critics are pollutionists.
Occupations under this category: Modern artists, drug addicts, Mahesh Bhatt, ‘experts’.

4) That leaves us with the two THs (pronounced ‘THuh’s), viz. theatre professionals and theoretical physicists. These are real occupations, all others are methods designed by poets to kill people.

There are further complications, like the incidence of quacks. Quacks are people from one occupation masquerading (knowingly or unknowingly) as those from another. Eg., investment bankers who believe they are making a difference are actually Pollutionists in disguise. For obvious reasons, THs (pronounced ‘THuh’s) have the largest number of quacks amongst them (eg. Experimental theatre playwrights, who are actually delusionists).

My general advice is to try to move from the earlier mentioned occupations to the later mentioned ones.
Unless of course you are lazy, in which case you should have lunch and take a nap.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Help yourself help others

I have always been a strong advocate of self-help books. Self help books are very useful and they result in general well-being. Well-being of the author, of course. Self help books sell large number of copies every year and are a great boost for the economy. The author's household economy, as any smart reader would have figured out by now. (It's ok, noone knows if you figured it out or not)
So much have I been overwhelmed by the utility and appeal of this genre of books, that I feel that its benefits should not be restricted to a small number of wily cunning idiots (authors, if there's any doubt left) who think reading books can help someone change his/her life. They should be extended to all wily cunning idiots (the general populace) who think reading books can help someone change his/her life. Having set this noble goal for myself, I have proceeded to write a self-help book. This one is different, though. It will really change your life. I have made reasonable progress on this front, and am glad to present to you:

23 EASY STEPS TO WRITING A BESTSELLING SELF-HELP BOOK

I present here a summary of the steps I have written that make the challenging task of writing a book that actually helps people ridiculously simple. (It should however be noted that I have put in many hours of research and great efforts - which included interviewing Joe who's now satisified with his fish-packing job and Mary who no longer craves to clean toilets while cooking - into writing this book and it was by no means a simple thing to do. Please buy this book. Crossword fills approximately 78% of its shelf space with this and similar books - the rest are cookery books)

Step 1: Choose a random number as number of steps
Absolutely essential. Imagine the title of ths book to be '15 easy steps..' . It is obvious from the beginning that the author just made that up and somehow filled the pages to create a round number of steps. Not cool. Choose 17, 23, 14 etc. THAT sounds thought out and intellectual.

Step 2: Choose your suckers
It starts getting tough from here on. There are millions of suckers out there. You just need to identify different sucker groups and pick one which you think you can easily foo- err.. easily help. Unsuccessful professionals, B-school aspirants, just-dumped-ex-boyfriends, the spiritual types, poets etc. The group should be appropriately miserable, and you should have some useful advice to offer to them. No, the last thing is not necessary.

Step 3: Pad it up with Aesop's fables
There's a myth amongst authors that anecdotes and vivid narrations have high impact on readers. Most readers believe this myth, so it's essential to make up examples of people named Joe and Mary who followed your techniques to become succesful. I understand this is difficult to do, hence I suggest you take a few of Aesop's fables, replace stork with Joe and wolf with Mary and lo! - you have your anecdotes. eg: Joe was an unhappy fish-catcher in the river. Then he met Mary, they had a bet and so on.. in the end, either Joe or Mary becomes happy. Perfect end to your anecdote.

Step 23: Get a Phd
A 'Dr.' before your name will increase sales by 33.4%. Medical doctors do not need to get a Phd.
An easy way to get a Phd. is to become a poltician and get honorary doctorates from universities in Tamil Nadu. However, to do that you will have to read my new book 'How to become a politician in 34 days'.

Smart readers may have noticed that I have omitted steps 3 to 22. This I have done for a variety of reasons, ranging from 'I want you to buy the book' 'I'm afraid you won't buy it if you read that shit' and 'Haven't really made them up yet'. But it's a good read. And it'll change your life. Available at your nearest crossword. Happy reading.