It’s Love, Stupid!

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There’s an imbecile in all of us, dying to come out at the first hint of love. My first brush with the incredible stupidity much in love couples display was as a 10 year old on a summer trip to Mount Abu. It was one not so fine morning, when we stepped into the sightseeing bus crammed with eager tourists armed with cameras and Uncle Chips, that I first encountered this strange species - a motley group of honeymooning couples coochie–cooing like crows in heat. One of them must have spotted the terror in my eyes. Before I could scream Mummy, save me, I was perched firmly on their laps. The next few hours I was privy to the most inane conversations ever heard and embarrassing public displays of affection. Every time the bus halted they would scurry off to the nearest cliff and pose Khajuraho style with me as the hapless spectator. Needless to say I was traumatized.

Love spares no one and I knew I was infected when Nadeem Shravan and Altaf Raja songs started making sense. I discovered the true meaning of insomnia in “Mujhe neend na aaye, mujhe chain na aaye”. With a stupid smile plastered on my face, I would walk around aimlessly, often banging into pillars. A firm believer of keeping my options multiple, I would be in love with at least 4 guys at a time. A lost- puppy look on my face and a playlist of the cheesiest romantic songs constantly playing in my head, I was dying to feel like a heroine in a Mills and Boons novel, touched for the very first time.

I was in search of my tall, dark, obscenely rich and brooding, silent and tortured hero! When I did find a guy with looks to kill, he’d open his mouth and spoil it all. The silent brooding one was dull and the rich one was yet to be born! But that did not deter me from crushing over guys I had no intention of confessing my love to.

Finally I did find love and with it the imbecile in me. Every time the phone rang, I would run towards it like PT Usha on steroids, sink into deep depression if he didn’t call me every two hours. I would look for pathetic excuses to call him again and again. Mind you, these were the pre-mobile days, so I had no way of driving him up the wall with “do you miss/love/care for me?” texts! I found everything about him incredibly endearing including his body odour and would feel hurt if a friend passed a snide remark on his cute flappy ears. Silly girl, she’s just jealous!

If poverty is a state of mind, fodder is food for thoughts that cross the mind

Courtesy NDTV.Com

The union of Murderers Arsonists and Rapists (MAAR) registered a strong protest after ex-Bihar chief minister Aloo Prasad was taken to Ranchi Central jail. The jail, named fondly after Birsa Munda who died here of cholera, will be home to Aloo and his 44 thieves. MAAR spokesperson Sushil Gunde expressed concern at this alarming trend of disqualified elected members invading their sanctum sanctorum and promised to dismember the members’ members.

In a country where criminals get more protection than law-abiding citizens and a judicial system that’s so slow and complicated, it is a miracle that criminals actually get convicted. Getting into jail is no cakewalk – it requires a clever combination of perseverance, enterprise, willingness to get caught and pissing off influential relatives or elected members, disqualified or otherwise. “Just as we were looking forward to enjoying the fruits of our labour and spending a peaceful, bribe free, inflation free and rent free existence in prison, our peace of mind is shattered with the arrival of these VIP inmates. It sucks that jails are now reserved for former politicians and businessmen. Where will poor run-of-the-mill murderers, thieves and rapists go?” exclaimed Gunde.

Besharam Kundu, a long time veteran who has spent 26 blissful years behind bars for stealing his neighbour’s goat rued: “there was a time when the high and mighty were forced to sup with petty criminals like us. Be it a serial killer or a pick-pocket, we were all made to share the same stinking lavatories and have the same watery daal with undercooked rice. My stomach still grumbles at the memory of that momentous day when all 420 of us went down with cholera after feasting on six day old kheer served in honour of the jail-warden’s birthday. Not anymore!” he spat. “We now have to put up with disgraced barons, real estate magnates, high profile ministers who arrive with much fan-fare and are treated like damads visiting their sasural. I fear, they will damage our cholera reputation ”.

The Dark Cloud over Nina Davuluri's win

Courtesy - Indian Express

Nina Davuluri is the best publicity the Miss America pageant could have hoped for. A carnival of beauty that has been long shunned for parading women like cattle and judging them on the basis of genes inherited from their parents. It’s nothing more than a procession of Barbies in bikinis and high heels with perfect hair, flawless makeup and disturbingly white teeth and uniformly boring when they mouth rehearsed wisdom to the 25 questions they had prepared. Or like Jon Stewart of The Daily Show so eloquently describes as a wonderful mosaic of sizes 0 to 2.

Why just America, beauty pageants across the world are dull! I can’t remember the last time I sat through one.

In India the reaction to Ms Davuluri’s historic win came in stages. It began as a trickle of self-congratulatory posts on social media for sharing the same gene pool as the first made in India, Miss USA. A few hours later it turned into a tsunami of outrage after BuzzFeed shared a tirade of racist tweets directed at Ms Davuluri. It did shock a lot of us that the world’s most powerful nation had citizens with Geography so poor that they couldn’t differentiate an Indian from an Arab and had heaped unflattering epithets like Ms Al Qaeda on her!

Interestingly, a lot of us returned the favour in equal measure as we went around dissing America as a nation of dumb racists.

It was convenient for us to ignore the fact that there will be as many opinions as there are people and if you go looking for ugly underbelly kind of stuff, there are people who will collate and find it for you. So, why get upset over the riff-raff that is carefully screened and used as proof to dump on the whole nation! If a set of Americans found it impossible to accept that an immigrant was chosen as America’s most beautiful, there was also the panel of judges and audience that selected her to represent first New York and then their nation internationally!

Just like no single template can be used to describe a diverse culture like India, we cannot paint the world’s third most populous nation with the same brush.

Kyonki Dadajee Bhi Kabhi Driver Thhe….

Courtesy - The Unreal Times

Episode 18678 - Rajnath shows concern for Adwhiney

Telecast Date: Friday the 13th - 15th 2013

Minutes after Moody is anointed as the new chariot driver of the Kamal family for the Great Chariot Races, he rushes to rejected driver, Dadajee(DJ) Adwhiney to sort out their differences and seek his blessings. Adwhiney has yet to come to terms that despite being the head charioteer for decades and causing riots like his arch rival Moody, he has been discarded like a banana peel. The patriarch refuses to accept that at sexty-three, fast and furious Moody is Lotus family’s only hope for a win in the marathon against the evil Gundi family. Unfortunately, at 85, Adwhiney jee the Iron Man (Louh Purush) of the K family is rusting.

As he enters DJs chamber, Moody overhears him seeking tips from Afridi on how to remain 18 forever. Moody blushes a deep shade of saffron before rushing headlong to DJ jee’s feet. He tries his best to mute the noise of bubbling ladoos in his heart because he can’t bear to see Adwhiney burst into tears, yet again. DJ is no mood to forgive Moody for putting a brake to his race to the finishing line. He is distraught that he will never be allowed to run over the economy like Gundi family in his out of control chariot.

PM, Sonia Condemn Condoms For Their Irresponsible Conduct

Image Courtesy - dnaindia.com

A day after the comptroller and auditor general took the Union health ministry to task for the 10,000 missing condom vending machines (CVMs), India TV, a channel dedicated to matters of national importance like “khatarnakh bhatak” stunned the nation with the video footage of the vending machines walking away in a huff! It’s still unclear how inanimate machines that had dedicated the rest of their lives to vending weapons of mass protection had come to life to express their dissent.

Speculations were rife about the reason behind this sudden uprising and which foreign hand to blame this time. Some even went to the extent of expressing their doubts about the patriotic leanings of these made in China machines! “Is this China’s ultimate revenge against India for desecrating their cuisine with Gobhi Manchurian and Chinese Bhel” thundered Arnab Goswami!

Prime Minister Manmohan Singh was quick to condemn the condoms and added that they will not succeed in their evil designs. When asked to clarify about the exact nature of their evil plans, Manmohan Singh added that condoms have advantage of surprise and assured that he’ll continue to condemn them come what may.

Sonia Gandhi sent a stern warning to the missing CVMs saying once caught they will be injected with power to corrupt them absolutely.

As panic spread throughout the country and everyone got jittery anticipating the surprise condoms were contemplating, a few enthusiastic twitter addicts went ahead and predicted boomsday. Ms Arundhati Roy, a staunch supporter of Comrade Condoms issued a statement stating that she’s in touch with their secret spokesman who has revealed that they intend to make it large before the big bang.

Salman Khurshid, Minister of Unnecessary Affairs tried his best to pacify the nation by saying that “boomsday predictions are absolutely absurd”. The angst of these misguided zealots can be addressed by simply applying an ointment. He further added that his office has contacted M/S Vaseline to make them smooth and lubricated and if possible offer them six fruity flavours as a bonus.

The CAG conceded that "The wayward behaviour of CVMs may be attributed partially to the poor self-image and Mr Khurshid’s healing touch may just do the trick”.

Assaram Clears Juvenile Test with Flying Colours

 This post was published on The Unreal Times, dated September 4, 2013

Image Courtesy - Google

Since it’s mandatory in our country for all sexual offenders to be juveniles especially if they are expecting little or no punishment, Jodhpur Police issued a search warrant for Baby Assaram’s birth certificate. The controversial Baby has been in news lately for molesting a 16 year old girl. Assaram in true spirit of the guilty denied all charges. After all he’s been touching many lives and their wives inappropriately for decades and has received nothing but adulation, donations and unnecessary security cover from the government!

A staunch defender of bhaiyagiri and its effectiveness against rape, the self-styled godman tried to do his bit for women’s equality by sharing the blame equally with his teenaged victim. Incidentally Assaram has always had an interesting relationship with young boys and girls. He either gets them chopped into pieces or tries to rape them! He also specializes in grabbing land and women foolish enough to be his devotees.

In our country only a man with such impeccable credentials enjoys political patronage and his many offences are treated with selective deafness and blindness.

With so many feathers in his cap, it’s shocking that Assaram doesn’t look like a peacock! But what’s more shocking is his appearance that belies his descending age. The bushy greys framing his innocent face effectively camouflage his youthfulness. It is a terrible tragedy that despite using Saundarya nikhar and Kesh Poshak, bestselling herbal remedies by his own ashram, the Guru of all things nasty looks so old and wrinkled. He’s now contemplating switching over to Madhuri Dixit’s secret to youth – Olay Regenerist.

What to do, we are like that only!

 

We Indians are a free spirited lot and don’t believe in masking our true selves with needless niceties. We love to flaunt our bad manners like a newly acquired SUV that honks imperiously in midst of barely moving traffic, expecting the annoying twerps blocking the way to get crushed under its wheels or take wings and fly out of sight.

We are always in a hurry to get somewhere. That’s why we shove, jostle, stamp on unsuspecting feet to get ahead in the queue and almost push that gangly boy to the Metro tracks just to be the first one to get into the coach. The moment our plane touches down for landing, regardless of how many free pegs of whiskey we have downed, we spring into action and start taking down our hand bags from the overheard compartments, completely ignoring the airhostess’s plea to remain seated. And before the aircraft can come to a halt, we start running towards the exit as if we expect the cabin crew to set the plane on fire, if we don’t disembark on time.

Yet, we are never on time. Rather, we expect time and the punctual fool to wait for us while we saunter in two hours late without even a hint of remorse.

It’s because it’s never our fault.

So, if we turn up late without having the courtesy to inform, it’s because of the damn traffic jam. If we make a nasty dent on the car in the neigbouring parking slot at the mall, it’s because the idiot had parked it wrong. If we dump our garbage in our neighbour’s compound, it’s because it looked dirty anyway. If we merrily film a girl’s cleavage as she bends down to pick up her pen, it’s because we were trying to teach her a lesson for wearing a low-cut top. If she’s out of her house, on her own, she is meant to be groped and pinched. If she dares retaliate, she’s being an unreasonable bitch.