Friday, October 19, 2007

Hi-5 Champoo learns a lesson

After all those embarassing moments, falling down and getting up, misventures and unknowing mistakes.... you might be wondering how champoo learned, unlearned and relearned the various chapters, Life has to offer. Here it is.....

Hi-5, eeks...Prints on cheeks

No No...Champak hasn't joined any web-based social fraternity neither he's amidst a picture perfect climax of India-Bangladesh match with his friends. And above all he's least concerned in finding out the rhyming words... High-Five. This is rather a melting pot after a few pot-boilers. So readers lemme take you to Champak's journey of learning a lesson, while someone teaches him the REAL ONE.

Champak kicked off his schooling days in style with pouring the clear english soup (on the floor) that was suppose to go in the drain. He sat alone in one of the corners for the whole day crying and longing for home. 2nd day saw a bizarre turnaround. Snatching snacks from the friends beating them and chattering whole day with the fellow-mates. He always use to narrate a single story throughout his Kindergarten..."There was a donkey, who with his friend fox entered the sugar-cane farm.......brayed aloud and got beaten badly", & facing the biggest irony of his earlier years- unable to inscribe the letter that has been most significant in his life, 'R'(in cursive). Complains gallored and punishments-a routine affair till he got ONE from his parents. He learned chapter one of a book called LIFE-Play the GAME, Enjoy the FAME but don't get diverted from the main AIM. Then.....all he got in KG was Banu teacher's KISS on cheeks, Lots of A's in report cards and larger then life friends. Primary schooling gave him Miss Norah's accolades, full 50's in all subjects, escalation from student to monitor and much more. High School was about talent and fame, teen adventures, Mr. Kapadia's pat on back, presidency post, sailing ahead and away.....And den der was Higher Secondary.

Designation changed-FFB (father of first bench) was now LLB(Lord of the Last Bench), Occupation changed from NEWSMAKER to NOISEMAKER, Earlier activities like GK quiz and debates were replaced by bird watching and bench-carving, the earlier respect and achievements rapport between Sir and Champak gave way to jargons like DOBBERMAN (for Mr. Trivedi's continuous barking on Indian History) and PostBox(for Ms. kalpana's gaudy and mismatch attire). Handshakes were replaced by slinging paper-planes and peanuts on the der shiny bald head. Above the desk textbooks were out and beneath the bench magazines and comics were in. Amidst all such things he admired Professor Laad and he simply loved Physics. He believed he was simply born to worship Einsteins and Gauss.

One such fine day, it was Mr. Thakkar aka Tilak Sir's (becoz of sholay fame KAALIA like Tilak on his bouncy and bumpy face with hundreds of crests-pimples and troughs-molar voids per square inch )Maths Lectures on a trot taking place and usually late Champak was jus5minutes late (in the second lecture). He alrdy received the lightening thunderbolts which were unable to deteriorate his high spirits. But this "More face to wash, less hair to comb dude" with hair on his ear-lobes and inside the nose growing with the speed of 5mm/day kept a constant watch on him. Just when Joules and Pascals diverted Champak's attention to Physics book under his desk, very little did he knew dat all his doubts and fundamentals in Physics would be answered today.

Soon his first half of Doppler's Effect got cleared with the an 80-kg object moving towards champak resulting in increasing intensity. Soon he answered Newton's second law F=ma with flash in pan, a big hi-5....on Champaks cheeks clearing definition of Torque and Force drubbing champak's hard earned self-esteem. He decided to revert back with Newtons third law with equal reaction but was helpless. On asking the reason for this phenomena, Mr. Tilak said "Unless and until any external force acts on an object, body in motion remains in motion and body at rest remains at rest" and since he violated the law(was at rest) and lagged in work done per unit time taken, his hand defined mew-coefficient of friction for his cheeks. His embarassing moment in life, the worst ever. His eyes turned dewy and specs foggy and the whole atmosphere gloomy. Silence was chewing him and the after-cause blues haunting him. He never spoke a word deraftr for a long time. All he could say was a SORRY with some hiccups. He learned a lesson taught- "Life is a matter of choice and chance, number of chances you get is directly proportional to choice u make".... And he met Prof. Thakkar with their eyes at same level after so long...bcoz he passed out with flying colors and topped MATHS.

Since total amount of energy in the universe remains constant but can be transferred from one source to another, the energy champoo gained through hi-5, he transformed it to start a positive phase of life and being a self-controlled human being.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Hotma(i)l(e).com-an encounter with 'P'-word.

Recap: After lots of i take a serious care dat i check out the trouser's strength before any of dancing ventures or i stick to my basics and be a life-long bathroom dancer!!! ----

Hotma(i)l(e).com-an encounter with 'P'-word.

Champak was in mid teens that time and had started to show the clues and hints of being a teenager. His dictionary showed some wordly transformations. Girl was now a chic, hearts and lungs gave way to glands and hormones, Sportstar was replaced by Cosmopolitan, Paintbrush outscored crayons, Razor grabed the position of proud possession over cricket bat and Sabeer Bhatia was more fascinating to him then knowing about Atal Bihari Vajpayee, the then P.M. of India.

It was an Indian summer of '99 when his interests in computer games was at peak. Aladdin, Prince of Persia, Wolf and Lion King ruled his checklist. He used to break his own high scores everyday and later on every hour. On that very day, he almost broke the highest ever score possible in Prince of Persia and was about to clear the final stage.......and THEN....Power-cut. All enigma and anxiety flew away with the currents. The very next moment, he left in hunt for a cyber cafe (pretty cool joint at that time). It was a dark cabin at the center in the café (at eye-striking view) with a dusty system which had no games installed in it. Pretty dumb. Just when he was thinking wat to do, champak remembrd one of his Phoren retnd cousin, Chatur mentioned something about internet and communicating through it via feemales (dnt laugh, e-mail was tough to grasp). So with some help from the managing guy, he typed his first URL reading it aloud 'H','O','T','M','A','L','E'.com (jus bcoz he correlated email to female, he thought it to be m,a,l,e, bloody hot word did the trick)

.....And there came down the boggling nerves and up goes the punk-like hair. Welcome to the P-world, an exposure to the world of pornography at such a tender age. Imagine a gal sitting in the adjoining cabin, the manager behind his back and hot-males in front of him--pretty embarrassing offence. He wondered what he should do. tried searching dat silly closing ‘X’ sign on the window but ended up getting lots of X signs all over the places, tried hard pressing the RESTART button but the button stuck up and just when monitor switch was a glimpse of hope, he couldn't manage to escape unnoticeable. Red-eyed manager caught him red-handed and threatened him to take him to police (wasn’t matured enough to know the difference between threat and risk) and even worse, he stretched the situation keeping him in line of fire stating to call his parents at home (I always learned by never implemented dat doing bad is not an offence but getting caught while doing it is). This innocent child of Lord (no dats not my parent’s name) got as weak as ever with water drops forcing der way out (from every possible openings in the body). Newtons 3rd law was proving to be false with reactions exceeding the actions. But as always u knw Mr. Champak!!! Though he lagged in cyber-info, though he lagged in maturity and brave-heart, he had an amazing knack of establishing PR and that saved him. THE GREAT ESCAPE-and Champak never turned and looked back.

That was then.....And this is now!!!

If u thought that growing up is a boon, jus imagine getting involved in sch nightmarish Xperience at this age? As an MBA aspirant, once Champak was Xploring some valuable information in his college lab (amidst the faculties and other bunch of batch mates) about IIM-Ahmedabad, later only to realize that if would hav bn replaced by in nick of time. You want me to narrate the after-shock or want to stress up ur creative genes imagining the rest.

Statutory Warning: Ignorance of an URL may be injurious to reputation and respect, kindly use Google in all aspects. According to research, Pornography damages ur nerves and alters ur thinking so strictly stay away from it.

Images sourced from,,

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

phurrrrrrrrrr.......der it goes!!! Champak Steps in to dancing shoes.

Recap: After Mr. Champak's cooking adventure resulting into disastrous misventure, finally he's able to cook world famous daal, mouth watering bhindi, yummy cheese garlic toasties, amazing enchilladas and ofcourse our national drink butter milk....Refer previous posts to be right there with Mr. Champak Chowksi.

phurrrrrrrrrr.......der it goes!!! Champak Steps in to dancing shoes.

Long time back there was a macho stud who studied in a palatial college amidst the nature. He used to go to college in a chauffered Chevrolet with his dudes. Stylish as he was in his Diesels and fcuk's, sharp he was in his maths and electronics. As mentioned in previous part that hardly there were things he can't do (coding as of course), he was novice to dancing then. He always thought to win over all damsel dudets, playing guitar and dancing are must. Guitar he already knew but he always preferred Dancing (in pairs). Till now u might have guessed it dat it can't b other den champoo(his college caption).

Now champoo was on a hunt for few of the things namely an opportunity to dance, a platform to perform and a tutor to teach him steps. He got all the three when one of his friends champi offered him a chance (going by his looks) to perform on "Jise dhundhta hoon main.." in annual culfess of the college. Quite confident with his capabilities of exercising, he soon discovered the demarcation between muscles and curves. They started practicing on a high note and with lots of aspirations and buckets of perspiration, champoo managed to get the steps right (wait wait wait...jus the steps, who'll spare a thought for expressions, sync and rythm). But highly optimistic champoo pumped in more and more efforts and on one fine day when the music struck "woh ladki hai kahan", champoo came dashing down with vigour and der came a b/g sound phurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr(repeat 'r' till 10 secs) and.........

.......there it goes!!! The brand new jeans and all the confidence, sync and esteem accompanying it. But before anybody could realize it God bless the companies for not manufacturing cam cell phones at that time), he managed to escape from the backdoor convincing fellow mates that he hurt himself. All he needed to find was an isolated place, another trouser of his waist size and a perfect reason that could save him for dis wardrobe malfunctioning embarrassment.

Finally....the star was back where it belonged in his own style. He did create an atmosphere of commotion with his lame walk but made everyone feel like he's strong and sacrificial. Just when he thought he survived a bizarre embarrassment, a shrill voice broke the silence with "Champak, is that ur zip open?" and the hall broke in laughter leaving poor champoo amidst the nightmarish run that followed him....He didn’t know wat to do. Gaining all the confidence, he was jus able to say, “It’s a new trend”. But leaving the past behind, everything went perfect in the D-day performance and guess wat. Our champoo won the trophy as well……(awestruck)….hmm not for the dancing number but enacting a human robot in the same performance. Now dats what I call blessing in disguise.

That was then, and this is now!!!

Occasions may come and pass by, his dancing legacy continued and so did the phurrrrrrrrr thing (5 of his trousers has sacrificed their lives of champoo's sake). The closest he came by to this incidence was while playing cricket with all the relatives, he dived fiercely to pocket a catch n phurrrrrrrrrrrrr (with the same thrill and intensity with which hanuman in ramayana sliced his chest)......der it goes!!!

Dear Readers, that was Mr. champak and his ventures. I'm sure even you mite have gone through such experiences. Do post me ur f/b and incidences in comments section. So till Champak plans to decide something else.....take a break.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Champak learns to cook...

Explore more about Mr. Champak chowksi alias Champoo from champaner and his ventures in previous blogs....
Champak learns to cook.....and everybody else shook.

...As such Mr. Chowksi is a self-proclaimed Jack of all trades. He's into finance arena, luvs variety of sports, entrepreneurial instinctz, he has developed wierd and varied hobbies, vivacious and creative being trademark adjectives that can be used for him. Infact he plans to write the shortest books ever written on a particular subject-"Things I can't do". So the latest venture into champoo's kit is Cooking.

So this son of a versatile mother, who prefers his "maa ka khana" to any of the restaurants in the world decided to justify the penetration of his genes and blood in veins as he started to kick of his cooking venture by boiling milk. On a very fine sunny sunday, he woke up early and took a stainless steel (full of stains) vessel and displayed some of his creative talented tricks while liting the burner. As confident he was of his minuscle venture, he was cocksure that he'll complete reading newspaper before milk boils up. Meanwhile, he got engaged with his roommates discussing about nagging the one who left his footprint on the polished floor, who should replace the maid servant whose no longer ready to clean the mess, solutions to serious hairfall this s/w industry has offered and the pathetic food offered in his office cafeteria.

.....20 minutes later! One of his friends
Chaman: Oh wow i can smell a wonderful paratha....
Chandu: stomach's feeling it.m so hungry.
Chirkut: Is it aloo aur gobi...watever it is, hw it must be if the aroma is so mouth watering and tongue licking.

....After 30minutes the view changes!!

Chaman: I gues dat SOB is overcooking the paratha...somebody stop him.
Chandu: nose is sensing the burning odour.
Chirkut: Y d hell is he not taking it (future tense of aloo or gobi paratha) off the pan.
All the 3: suspicious look towards der anything dats burning in our kitchen... !#^!$&#%&$(edited part).

Champak took off showing one of his blitzkrieg running talent full of wild gestures only to realise few minutes later that all milk can't b white....dey too get tanned. Kitchen had fumes all over the places amidst milk(which it WAS) fountains with the irresistible mind blowing(that can literally blow up the mind) aroma and a dead body of that vessel which sufferred severe strokes of racial discrimination and Maa Kasamm not a single bright spot was visible.

2days after--chandu boiles the milk for everybody, chirkut shifted his room which was earlier adjoining to kitchen and chaman supervising champak whose making unsuccessful invaluable attempts cleaning the vessel. But no storm or fire can deteriorate Herculean Mr. Chowksi. Today he is an authentically GOOD cook who sometimes adds extra asafoetida touch to daal, experiments over his friends with overcooked bhindi, tries out how raw potatoes amidst cooked cabbage tastes like and researching on whether double salt in buttermilk has something to do with blodd pressure.

That's how Champak learns to cook(sounds like Michael learns to rock). So readers when do u vish to b among the privileged invitees at Mr. Chowksi's home on a weekend dinner and cherish the delicacies prepared by the connoisseur himself.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Mr. Chowksi boards a bus!!!

Refer "Know Mr. Chowksi" for a quick recap!!!!

Mr . Chowksi boards a bus....

......As his employer firm has just managed to cross a billion dollar benchmark, they don't provide him a chauffered driven cab or a bus so he thrives hard to manage a lift from a biker who can drop him till the BMTC(Badboo marein, tel chipke) bus-stop. Somehow he manages his way into the bus amidst all bulls and rhinos who stares at him with walnut like eyeballs, and saw-like hands. Getting a seat to sit-forget it....Those who are sitting are hired to endorse FEVICOL brand, they won't get up until you get down. Sources reveal that such people get on from stop 1 and get down at last stop when they feel their daily pass has enriched them with rich dividends.

The worst enemy of people like Mr. Chowksi is the owner of the bus-Mr. conductor who thumps heavily on ur back and forces you to take tickets even if you alrdy have one. He'll also choke you wid some slangs in regional language bt the commotion is easily noticeable through his gestures. The real nightmare starts after he has boarded the bus the more lot push in. His hair gets twisted like a brush used for cleaning toilet, his shirt wrinkled like a 95yr grandpa's face and shoes as if he's working in a concrete factory. His nose somehow gets well-placed toward the adjoining individual's underarm(while he's holding the iron rod) and coincidently its the underarm of the guy, who doesn't know smething like deoderant exists. While you try to breathe in patches while revolving your face, it gathers the finest varieties sticky coconut oil in one 180 degree motion. The last thing you wanted on such a trip is someone picking a nose and pricking out the shortest of hair and proudly publicizing it. Soon you are to ur destination and u push ur way in altogether different world of sigh, relief, air and life.hhuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh poor Mr. Chowksi, for him the day is ended before it kicks off.

So whenever Mr. Chowksi gets a window seat or a seat for instance, he jumps with joy and messages to every known person in the colony to let them know his achievement only to regret later that an old man or physically challenged individual is standing tough jus besides you without any complaints.....

So readers, dat was one of Mr. Champak's chronicles.....Wait and watch out for the next one and find out what's next on the plate to be served.

Any acquaintance with such incidences???

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Know Mr. Chowksi

C-cube....Curtain Raiser

So here's a tale of a complicated common chap who dreams of a 100-acre ranch and still lives in a rented place for future investments, who aims in possessing a Bugatti Veyron or a Maybach but prefers to travel in public transport or rather walk to gather penny for it, who wants to setup a largest private sector company in the world but works (although he hardly works) for a small-scale firm, who wishes to be in the company of Warren Buffet, Steve Jobs, Dr. Vijay Mallya but loves talking to his security guard, maid servent, barber or a cafe guy for instance, who desires to earn a million $ a day but will squabble with autorickshaw driver for 2bucks, who aspires to take his girlfriend to Venice but he himself is yet to visit Vasna barrage road.......Pretty wierd!!! Yeah that's the guy Mr. Champak Chowksi alias champoo from Champaner. Name as complicated as he is!!!

Now Mr. Champak works as a s/w engineer for a small firm at a happening area of a cosmopolitan city. He is basically employed for 3 things namely code-writing, code-evaluating, and code-debugging and he follows all the three things, minus code, firmly. On reaching home he's required to perform 3 "ing"s namely cooking, washing and reading but he's rather taking only quoted letters pretty seriously and he does eat-ing, shit-ing and sleep-ing. If this was more than enough of Mr. Chowksi, lets peep into his daily affairs.

wait wait wait....for my next post as i need to increase my HCP ratings. Wonder what's HCP, it's hits, comments and points.