Dear Indians, On behalf of the Pakistani government, I’d like to reach into my Big Bag O’ Cliches and condemn the recent attack on an Indian BSF convoy in the Udhampur district of northeastern Pakistan Jammu and Kashmir.
Seven Old Monk facts that may or may not be made up
F.R.I.E.N.D.S is said to be responsible for the rise of everything from a certain haircut to coffee sales to awkward guys using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because clearly, that’s all we do all the time for no reason.
Struggling to cope with opinions and feelings on Twitter, Facebook and god alone know what else? Ashish Shakya was too, until he realised how silly he was being.
The one thing that I'm really looking forward to in 2014 is the rise of the Aam Aadmi Party. Let's face it - everyone loves a good underdog story, unless their name is Sheila Dixit.
Google celebrated its 15th birthday with a piñata doodle on its homepage, thereby overclocking the already melted brains of Candy Crush slaves. Whacking away at the hapless decoration...
Every once in a while, I feel like getting out of my comfort zone and doing something totally wild, like sleeping with the AC at 22 instead of 24, or going into outer space.
Thirty years ago, the Internet was invented after American scientists got annoyed at having to lug around hard disks the size of Kurla just so they could watch two pixels worth of Sasha Grey. Ashish Shakya writes.
I hereby take this opportunity to declare myself an expert on weddings. Ashish Shakya writes.
Unless you’ve been living under a rock in some remote medieval outpost like, say, Kolkata, you’re aware of the latest blow inflicted upon the noble character of the T20 by Rajasthan Royals bowler and part-time item number, Sreesanth. Ashish Shakya writes.
It’s that time of the year when you’re bombarded with headlines like ‘23 Ways To Beat The Heat!’, ‘Sweat: It’s Like Drool, But From Your Armpits!’, and ‘It’s Totally Okay To Sell Your Kids For a Box Of Mangoes!’ In keeping with that theme, I present the only real solution to summer, ie leave. Head to the hills and come back only after the dawn of winter. Ashish Shakya writes.
This week Goa banned drinking on its beaches, which sounds about as blasphemous as banning siestas in Goa, writes Ashish Shakya.
Like most people, I can honestly say that fitness has always been my number one priority, unless I have to deal with more pressing concerns during the day, such as my job, my sleep, a new book, a new TV show, a new movie... Ashish Shakya writes.
You can imagine my reaction when a friend told me that he had good seats for Saturday’s Mumbai-Pune T20 match at Wankhede, and invited me to join him.
If I could buy a nice house anywhere in Bombay, I’d pick Bandra Bandstand,” I often tell myself, before collapsing in a pile of tears, because I’d only be able to afford it if I were reincarnated as Laxmi, writes Ashish shakya.
Google hosted the Big Tent Summit in New Delhi this week, bringing together under one-roof politicians, thinkers, speakers and item numbers, all of whom were Shashi Tharoor.
This week saw the passing of Paul Bearer, who had made a living by carrying around a mystical urn that granted powers to his friend, an undead beast with eyes so empty and soulless, you’d think they were donated by Arjun Rampal, Ashish shakya writes.
I don't mean to be a pessimist but given the problems plaguing the world today it is safe to assume that the future will also be a giant load of bollocks deep-fried in misery. Ashish Shakya writes.
This Valentine’s Day, I told readers I’d offer them useless advice about their love problems, whether it be the usual ‘How do I tell her I like her?’ to the offbeat ‘I’m attracted to a beanbag because it looks like Sonakshi Sinha’.
Once again, India was witness to a colossal whirlwind of stupidity when it had to stop sparring with Pakistan over Kashmir for a while and divert its attention to something far more important — the well-being of Shah Rukh Khan. Ashish shakya writes.
So I came across an interesting survey this week, which talked about the notion of privacy amongst Mumbai’s youth. When asked what privacy meant to them, 35% of the respondents answered ‘solitude’, while the rest were too busy trying to free their faces from random armpits.
What do you do when you leave home in a hurry and return a few days later to find that you'd left a couple of unwashed pots and pans to fester in the kitchen sink, thus turning it into a vat of toxic slush that smells like Mithi river hooked up with Mulayam Singh's armpit? Ashish Shakya writes.
It’s been a strange week. A Haryanvi khap leader went on national television to declare that rapes were caused by chow mein, a conclusion he arrived at via the scientific method of being dropped on the head as an inbred baby. Ashish Shakya writes.
By now you must be aware of the hype created by a certain offensive piece of tripe masquerading as a film.
I don’t like to brag, unless I’m certain it’ll grab the attention of thousands of people, so this seems like a good place to do it. Earlier this week, I got to do my first-ever international stand-up gig. Alright, so it was in Dubai, which is basically Kerala with better-looking people, but it still counts, okay?
If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s growing older. No seriously, I’m a natural. Over the course of these years, I have done many things that you do when you grow older: I’ve paid taxes, got my own place, managed to not burn down my own place and so on. Ashish shakya writes.
Friends, Indians, countrymen and six million illegal Bangladeshi immigrants living under my sink, I want to wish you all a very happy Independence Day. Ashish Shakya writes.
As the world continues to spiral towards inevitable doom, and as headlines about riots, drought, recession and global warming continue to slap us in the face every morning, I think it is imperative that I raise some serious issues, like the fact that cheesy pick-up lines are making a comeback on the dating scene. Ashish Shakya writes.
Stop reading this column. No, really. It doesn’t offer magic solutions, and it will not change the country you and I live in. It reeks of helplessness, and of a young woman whose images were seared into national consciousness, destroying the notion of Indian propriety that we’d been cuddling with all these years.
While you guys were stuck in gutters masquerading as roads, I spent the past week in a verdant, faraway land, watching majestic grey clouds ride in on the backs of winds, and unleash what can only be described as furious lovemaking manifest as rain.
Last week, the Indian government finally managed to get its hands on 26/11 handler Abu Jundal, probably because Kasab was bored and demanded company (I mean, there’s only so much goat porn one can watch). The arrest has been described as a major achievement for India, because we can now finally prove that Pakistan was behind the attacks, as opposed to earlier when the evidence pointed to pygmies from Congo.
The trouble began when Nitish Kumar, a key ally of the BJP, said that the party should choose a secular prime ministerial candidate for 2014, thereby ruling out that big basket of fluffiness, Narendra Modi.
This week brought about a setback for some people, and by ‘people’, I mean ‘cretinous racist Indian slime’. Ashish Shakya writes.
Unless your name is Kapil Sibal, I think you'll agree with me when I say that the internet is awesome. It is a place where even the most degenerate, depraved and desperate souls on the planet can find sanctuary. But enough about Orkut.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve found myself being enveloped in an aura of safety and virtue ever since our brave cops raided that party at Juhu and rescued hapless partygoers from the horror that is a Pitbull techno mix. Ashish Shakya writes.
So, as it turns out, women are important. I was reminded of this last Sunday when Aamir Khan descended from the heavens and broadcast his message against female foeticide through 'Satyamev Jayate', a show that was watched by about seventeen billion people, including tribes that have not been discovered yet.
As adult members of society, it is our duty to educate, mould and inspire younger generations, but most importantly, it's our duty to make sure that they do not boink each other. Ashish Shakya writes.
"Religion is the opium of the masses," said Karl Marx, after which Mamata Banerjee dropkicked him and set his beard on fire. Ashish Shakya writes.
A long, long time ago, the first humans set foot on Earth, invariably stepping in sabre-tooth tiger poop, because the BMC was inefficient even back then. Ashish Shakya writes.
So the IPL is here. Or as Sidhu puts it, “The IPL is like a didgeridoo frolicking in the monkeys of Mordor, even as angels get sloshed through the endoplasmic reticulum of the asymptotic haemorrhoids.” Ashish Shakya writes.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are in crisis mode. Our Army chief recently revealed that our entire military is obsolete and could be taken down any time by a bunch of Chinese kids with Beyblades. Ashish Shakya writes.
Firstly, let me state that even though I may be four beers down, I’m fully aware that you readers are absolutely sick of the Kochi controversy, writes Ashish Shakya.
I often get interesting e-mails from readers, such as this one Nigerian who has promised to send me a million dollars. Also, quite a few readers who aspire to write humour have asked me about what the profession entails, writes Ashish Shakya.
It’s that time of the year again, when we soak in the festive cheer, dress up in our finest and spend glorious evenings by the bathroom sink, coughing up blobs of phlegm so large, they might soon be granted statehood.
As a young professional working in the economic capital of India, I often feel a certain sense of accomplishment —a warm glow that comes from knowing that I can now afford to kill my liver at the finest bars in town.
Let’s get something straight. I am a North Indian. I was born in U.P. Of course, it wasn’t my idea. I was bred just so that one day, I could come to Mumbai, steal local jobs and snigger every time someone used the words ‘fakta’ and ‘ho’, writes Ashish Shakya.
As a freelance writer who works from home, I'm accused by friends of having “too much free time”. They, of course, have no idea about the dedication it takes to slave away in solitude, trying to come up with the perfect Twitter updates, writes Ashish Shakya.
Recently I was utterly humiliated, with my dignity taking more abuse than Harman Baweja at the box office. This is because I was referred to as ‘the boy who lives near Vasai.’ I’ve never been so insulted in my life, and this includes the time I was told I looked like Ajay Devgn. Ashish Shakya writes.