Achyut Dutt is a phenomenon. Trying to introduce him is like trying to hold a typhoon in a thimble. It just doesn’t happen.
While most of us are hard put to manage one blog, Achyut has about 72 (not virgins you dirty minded ol’coot!). Not that Achyut wouldn’t be perfectly capable of dealing with twice the number of virgins. He doesn’t call himself The SpunkyBong because it sounds cute. He means every syllable of it. I read one post from him in which he modestly let fall that the Dutt Prowess was formidable. From what I have read of his pen, I have no reason at all to doubt the said prowess. The man is incapable of boasting. True story.
I was telling you about the 72 blogs. You can go to Spunkybong- A Gaggle of Giggles and find the rest of them laid out neatly in a column. In addition, he manages two groups- Heelayrius and Book, Movie and Blog Reviews– on Facebook which means he has to have eyes in the back of his 72 heads so that he can crack the whip from time to time and keep the inmates of the asylum group in check. Don’t tell me the job is easy; I’d hate to call you a liar to your face.
A word of warning though. Self- deprecation is his style. Beyond the funny words is a mind sharper than the point of a lance and a heart the size of the universe. He may come across as someone who would distractedly brush away a 20 kiloton missile away as you and I would brush away a pesky fly, in short he may come across as impenetrable, but under that tough exterior he is pure mush. He is an amazing, hands-on dad to The Kid. As you know, only the mushiest, tenderest men make the grade with the little humans.
I am proud that he is the first blogger to be hosted on Serenely Rapt. I hope I would be able to introduce you to other giants of spirit on these pages in the coming weeks.
Without further ado then, let me give the floor to the one and only Achyut Dutt!
*drumroll* **bring-the-house-down applause**
(PS: I never threatened the pest. As for alpha female… well… give him a break. The man is fifty- ate…! Over indulgence has addled his perceptions.)
Dagny puts you to work. ‘Write me a guest post’, she says in that bustling busybody tone of hers that you can feel in the back of your spine in the form of a shiver and immediately brings on goose pimples. I haven’t actually heard her speak of course, thank the Almighty Lord.
I imagine Dagny pounding her keyboard with a balled fist, eyes red with aggression,’ I..WANT..THAT..GUEST..POST..AND..I..WANT..IT..NOW’. Shudder. I feel like a trussed up Jew someone left on Heinrich Himmler’s front porch at suppertime. While GM and Ford test the performance of their cars at NASCAR, keyboard makers go to Dagny. If you find a ‘D’ enclosed inside a circle with an exclamation mark imprinted on the back of your keyboard, next to the serial number, it can withstand a 20KT nuclear detonashun, trust me.
Soon as I befriended Dagny way back, I raced to Google ta find out the meaning of her name. I couldn’t ask her, didn’t want it ta look like there might be things that I didn’t know about. Women like confident men who know everything. I googled ‘Dagny’ and there it was. Dagny was a voluptuous mythical Norse princess, daughter of the God of thunder, Thor. Do you expect Thor’s daughter to be wimpy? There’s simply no way.
Dagny spelt out the specifications my post had to adhere to strictly. The post has ta reflect my ethos, everything that I stand for, down to my very core. Meaning, it must be irreverent, inappropriate and incorrigible. While at the same time being very corny and stupid, with lots of sex in it. Did I forget to mention shallow, mindless and nonsensical? Throw those in too, please. Not that I’m not good at all that, mind. Its just that I can’t stand alpha women. And trust me, Dagny is as alpha as the stuff Po-210 emits. Alexander Litvinenko and Yasser Arafat were killed by Dagny particles, oh yeah.
Actually she caught me at the wrong time. I have been having a writers’ block but I can’t tell her that. To women, we men must sound invincible and smart at all times. I can’t think of nothing noo ta write. Even the topic I specialize in, sex, no longer sounds interesting. When you’re fifty-ate, it’ll happen ta you too. Sex will start seeming stale. I’m going through that phase right now. It is the end game and it’s called, ‘You mean I’m done, after fawry hyperactive years?’ I lied, make that fawry-ate. I started at ten. She was my nanny. Relax, I treated her well, I’ll have you know. Preet Bharara wasn’t born then, otherwise he would be giving me a medal, instead of having my cavities searched.
At first I thought maybe I’ll write about the year gone by, but that would be just two words – it sucked. Male menopause sucks. No longer being able ta hold my drink and getting high on just two beers, sucks. Asking the same question twice, sucks. Trying ta figure out why I’m in the mall with four grocery bags sucks. Not giving a f–k about how I look anymore sucks. No longer being asked by Nancy, my skin-tight-skirted hairdresser, how I’d like my hair done sucks. Not feeling anything even when she is two ångström units away, bending over to plug in the razor, sucks.
I could write about resolooshuns of course. I love making noo year’s resolutions but they are all x-rated and they have Scarlett Johanssen in them. I’m certain Dagny wouldn’t approve, so graphic are they (menopause doesn’t cramp the mind).
Lastly its about the AAP. I’m far away from where the action is but it seems to me that the Indian literati I come across on the FB newsfeeds pages are busy tearing the AAP chief, Arvind Kejriwal apart and he hasn’t even settled his tush in his Chief Minister’s chair and let out his first fart yet.
The literati, aided by a bunch of jerks called the Indian media, are eager to splash all sorts of petty things about him all over their timelines. They had gotten used to being jerked off for 65 years by crooked politicos of all hues and they didn’t mind going about their business gleefully bribing and being bribed. Now when there is this one man who appears on the horizon with at least a mandate which reads like everybody’s wish list, they are ready to cross him out instead of giving him the moral support that he badly needs at this hour.
Do Indians deserve honest politicians?
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this post are Achyut’s own.