Sunday, March 22, 2015

The woes of Pongala

Sree wouldn't have imagined such strong repercussion when he posted his thoughts on Pongala and the innumerable difficulties it brings to the citizens. This snowballed into a barrage of abuses with him being termed as anti-national, anti-hindu, sickular etc. Sree did the wise thing by simply removing the post.

It isn't uncommon these days for the people getting more and more hyper-sensitive about religion. The people have becoe aware and identify with their religios and cultural beliefs which inturn helps them to identify with their nation and fellow citizens. In a way it may be good to prevent a slippage into anarchy, while it becomes more and more difficult to identify yourselves with a neighbour of different ideas and beliefs.

India has always been a religin f spirituality, religion and Gods. Men of power realized that the easiest way to rule is to divide. Back then, in an agrarian society where mutual co-habitation was necessary for survival certain differences were tolerated for survival. Even then the society was not free of racial tension rifling ino riots.
Today in a scenario where individuals become independent in terms of his survival, he can coin his own thoughts irrespective of neighbour. But in an urban setup where physical spaces are less and information sharing takes place in a crazy speed throughout the breadth and width of the society, impact of religion and race could be catastrophic.

A decade ago Pongala was a local festival of the city where women spread out to few kilometeres to cook in the open air. In the eveining it was a prety thing to see the women crowding on public buses to rerach home. Even before that Pogala was a festival the rich household sent their servants to celebrate
Thanks to some marketing gimmicks of the temple and adoption by  the media to develope this festival as some sort of cultural wonder plus world record fete, it got hold of public imagination. The film stars flocked into cook pongala in frnt of five star hotels. Various associations started even bigger cooking fetes  of breakfast and lunch for the poor darlings. Then the sad truth that Devi would show her displeasure if you don't cook rice for her has made this a huge exhibition of vulgarity. People has  to tolerate this show for the sake of national integration and secularism. All the shops and hotels close down. In the evenings over enthusiastic youths thrust cheap sodas into the faces of tired fat aunties. And all the garbage is cleaned out of the city by burning it all up.

Secularism is not tolerating bullshit

Thursday, March 5, 2015

The Mauka World Cup

If you ask a tamilian to pronounce 'Mauka' he will prononce it as 'Mokka' which means a total waste. Our cricket world cup is somewhat on that course with periodic jingles reminding you who will play India next.
The jingles are fierce and patriotic with the war cry- We won't give it back'. The war cry is certainly missing from real life, as I found people are not very enthusiastic about beating their arch rivals Pakistan.
I was in a hotel at Bangalore for the breakfast an I seemed to be the only guy who bothered to strain my neck as others ate their idlis peacefully. We might have learnt to be cooler than our Captain Mr Cool.

Pakistan on the other hand are least interested to vanquish their enemy as the play couple of elder citizens and rest who aen't sure whether they are good at batting or bowling. Same goes with teams like West Indies and England who might have dropped in for a paid holiday in one of the exotic places.

Many years ago cricket burst into commercial game with 8 cricket playing nations and other ássociates'. Years have passed and it seems the number of cricket playing nation have dropped down even further and only Indians are bothered to watch the game.  The governing concil have formulated such a policy that 3 top revenue generating nations would play each other the maximum. Rest can pray  for mercy from the three almghty. 

Inorder to make the game fairly attarctive, ICC came up with some strange suggestions like shortening the boundary and flatten the pitch so that he batsman can have aa field day. Today some of the worst batsman make quick 50s by simply tappng the ball away.

As wild batsmen tap away madly, all eyes are fixed on IPl whih has to start soon after the WC

Monday, February 9, 2015

The guy came with a pink nose

I usually hit the bed very late on Saturday nights and come out of the Sunday morning service half asleep
I was in the process of waking myself up after the service, when I heard someone calling and turned around to see a guy in full sleeves and black leather shoes. It took a few second to make out the face

A few years ago, this guy had some genuine worries about doing his masters in Medicine when he flew to USA. Now he has come back shining in all the glory afforded to a NRI

I was just about to say Hey when his mother came from nowhere to drag her son for a parade around the church
The aunties gathered around to exclaim how pinkish his nose had become. Well then I noticed, it's true. The unmissable mark of an NRI

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

An anarchic human

Today morning I decided to put a full stop to my nightly chat with girls. It's just that I get horny after dinner and I search for girls over whatsapp, facebook, gtalk, viber and ask them every wierd question ranging from mini skirts, shorts, boobs, sex and lesbian friends (strictly in that order). At the end of it I earned another name 'Jerk'. It is not that I don't deserve to be called so. But I prefer not to go 'viral' and freak out anymore ladies.

In the afternoon, after making the life saving decision, I went out to get my daily coffee from a joint nearby. Now the joint, ICH, is quite famous in the city and there are good cances to run into old friends who happen to be there for a long conversation or silent rumination

And today I met my old friend who was into law these days. We chatted over a coffee  about the case he was into. A IT proffessional lady conspired with her lover to bump off the kids and in-laws. Her idea of a rosy life-ever-after was to get divorce from the husband with no strings attached.
I have always had  this fascination for men in black coat. They gulp up pages and pages just to drag the process for eternity. I asked my defense-lawyer-friend if he thought she deserved punishment.
Óf course she killed the kids'

I wondered aloud , what made her take such a risk knowing very well that a small mistake can result in te murder plans falling apart. She would be faced with a society too eager to cast the first stone and a judge too happy to tie the noose

A few days ago,  a couple of hundred miles from here, the cool liberal youths got together to kiss in public. Suddenly out of nowhere a religious group who hated people kissing in public brought an Ox and cow to drive home the fact that kissing in public is 'çattle culture'

What is it really that differentiate a 'human' from a 'çattle'. Is it the rules he conforms to? Who has set the rule? What do you really mean by the term 'society'? Why do we fear anarchy?

I had a friend from college who had this cute figure. More than the figure it was this mysterious current flowing underneath which could whip up some passion. After college we drifted apart and she got married , migrated to the paradise- USA. Last time we talked I came to know that she wa bringing up her baby alone, while her husband was far away busy minting money. I being the usual jerk, kept on probing and realized she was forced into marriage with the belief that life was adjustable.
I was disturbed that the girl, whom I believed to be the strongest ever, was forced into a decision which could ruin the rest of her life . If givena chance I would have asked what tied the 'husband' to her? But then she might call me the jerk.

If I was made to plead the case of the murderer I would ask the judge- Why couldn't we allow her to fuck the person she loved? Why did we make her someone she didn't know ? Why did we ask her to bear children when she didn't want to?

Saturday, October 18, 2014

Accidentally Rich

The high beams were beating straight into his eyes. He would have sweared at these fancy cars any other day. Over the years the scooter ride home has become too tiring. The fancy cars are too fast, te drivers too careless and added to that the roads would beat the craters in moon. Back home he spent his evenings nursing the sore back

But this evening his thoughts were drawn somewhere else. The high beams didnt bother him. It seemed to him that the traffic was simply floating.

Each morning he woke up hoping his day would be smooth, that he would end up a millionaire, that he would go for jogging or badminton in snowhite outfit. Decades ago when he joined the company, everyone said his life was made. He managed to land up a pretty girl (thanks to the profile). He managed to get a loan and built a small home ( not exactly big as his dream home though)

Then at some point or the other everything stopped. He seemed to be stuck in his position for decades. Company seemed to have got over its boom. Everything became stagnant. The once bright lights seemed to have dimmed, wooden furnishing seemed to be peeling off and the air stenchy.

People seemed to hate each other and were too eager to bite each other behind the back. Can't blame them. This is the only way to get through this eternal pit. Back then , while joining, 'no-pension' didn't bother him much. Life seemed to be forever young. Now with a little more than a decade left for a 'tearful send off' he felt the involuntary shivers down his spine

The only thing he feared was his sons ending up doing mediocre things like him. Unless he wins a lottery or some childless uncle leaves him an estate he doesn't have any chance. But the probablity of both incidents were very very negligible.

That's when the well dressed sauve-speaking marketing executive came up for a 'financial education' session. He had tried his  hand at all fancy financial instruments and came out unhurt but not rich. Even though nothing else interested him, the 'Áccidental insurance' caught his imagination. A paltry amount can make him richer if he 'died'. And added to that there is no limit for the amount to which his life can be nsured. The marketing executive, seeing his interest went a step  ahead and regaled him with the stories of dead men who ended up rich.

The scooter kept on floating in his dream world until rudely awoken by the sudden beam of light from a car that took a sharp turn in front of him

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Travails of a Bride Hunter

In two weeks I would have finished a journey of 29 years on earth, having finished up almost all my youth remaining a virgin. It's no mean feat considering my beauty, handsomness and enormous temptation I have been subjected to.
Jokes apart I had hoped to officially shed my virginity by getting married, the traditional Kerala style. But I don't think that's going to happen any soon

Now you guys have been reading blogs after blogs on travails of hot feminists in choosing from dumb boys. Have you ever read travails of a hot guy who had to choose his bitter half from a herd of dumb girls. Well, you're about to, atleast you are almost about to.

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' Is this your first kiss?' Imagine your wife asking you that. Just imagine the looks of suspicion when you find it dfficult to choose between  a Yes and a No.
If my better sense prevails I would say its my first and I feel wonderful

But if my sensiblity fails me I would say I had kissed a drunk girl a few years ago. She would pretend to take it cool and come up with the next question. 'Then why didn't you marry her?' 'Well it was a one night fling'. That would be the end of my brief 'happy-married-life'

That's the greatest challenge we men face. To be honest or not-to-be. If you tell the girl she is fat or dumb or pain in the ass, which is likely to be truth, could mean a lot of trouble. But instead if you say she looks smart, beautiful or sexy- you will have a successful, long , happy married life

The same rule applies for a bride hunter as well. Firstly speaking I am not a fan of marriage-the-institution. I would prefer to be a free single bird shagging off at Sunny Leones and Priya Rais. But my fate was that I was born into a traditional christian family who registered my profile in some matrimonial site without even me knowing it. I always despised and still despise this matrimonial site match making. This practice which was considered too posh and too ungodly is very popular now, since the old joint family no longer works. Even the good old brokers doesn't go around town searching for unwed handsome people. They too use the internet to hunt their prey.

So I told my parents, as they gave me no choice, to set up a profile and put in whatever they wanted in the profile. A few weeks later I get a call from a hysterical friend. I scrambled for my profile and to my dismay discovered that they had uploaded a passport picture of mine and created a profile which looked as if I was a Arsenal Football player. I was unbelievably mad, but then I realized my parents knew noting much of me and I don't have any proper looking photos.
Proper looking photos are essential for selling your profile. The old fashioned will get the help of a studio.  The chic people will  use a professional profile creator. Even selfie photos have become quite populare among girls. Among the boys, the fashion is to put up something in an exotic place. It shows you are cool guy and fun loving But let me warn you, get ready to get a shock when you finally see the girl for real.

The nature of work is the most clinching factor to get a 'good match'. If you're some top notch government servant or a doctor or a software pro working abroad the girls queue in front of your house with the placard 'steal my flower'. But if you have some boring jobs like say a banker or a software engineer in some god forsaken city you will have to hunt some equally loser girl. If the guy is settled abroad not only the girl but her mother and sister will give yo a blow job readily, irrespective of what your job is. That's the secret why guys try desperatly to get some posting in USA for a short term and get married before the whites kick your ass alll the way back to Hindoostan.

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A few weeks ago, after a year of bride hunting some God-fearing NRI came with the proposal for his doctor daughter. First his call came from across the seas, then his friend,s call, then the friend came for a visit to gauge the waters. Then came the NRI's facebook friend's request
He hadn't even seen me and the friend's request came before him.

This is a very creepy and wierd part of modern matchmaking. Your facebook profile is taken as your mirror image and it has to be filled with so much verses from Bible and other politically correct posts, photos and images.
Rest of the story is something like after so many visits the creepy NRI stopped calling  at all. End of the story

To tell the truth i hate most of the girls i see. But this seems to be an inevitable evil

Friday, August 22, 2014

A marriage and some memories

i was not very sure about going for his marriage, in the first place. It has been a principle not to attend marriages over 'Facebook invites', But it has been 13 years and it wasn't a bad idea to meet up some old buddies. And at the last moment I decided to ask my driver to drop me at the marriage venue.

As soon as I got down, a white scooter stopped right in front of me with a sudden brake ' Hello Jon!!' Here comes Arun. He was kind of sweet guy back from school. We weren't best buddies then. But some years ago he sends me a Facebook request and here comes request after request to read his blog. I didn't have the heart to tell him that his blogs were all equally pathetic. And now, I dreaded if he would want to make sure I read his blog. Thankfully he didn't, in anyway. But I was quite surprised when he peppered his sentences with English in proper American slang. Every distraught techie who hasn't got a chance to 'fly out' spends time to google about life and times in USA. By the time he reaches USA, he would be knowing more about Obamacare than the non chalant American.

The marriage began. The bridegroom, Aswin hadn't changed over years except for the visible paunch. He hadn't lost his trademark look- one eye larger than the other. Something you would see in cartoons. I remembered a joke we made out of  him. He used to doze in class and he would wake up suddenly to twitch his organ as if turning a door knob. He had a best friend- the typical talkative small guy you would find in every class. The small guy was the one who taught me how to masturbate by stimulating it on a pen

Unfortunately I couldn't find anyone except for John. John was of slight built back then. Then we learnt he joined Airforce before joining college. He was talking about the desperateness to get out of the job. We had considered him to be lucky back then.
How wrong we are. I hung around to see if I could get a whiff of air from school. But no, time had flown by so fast and it seemed difficult to me, a bunch of guys who tried hard to masturbate, now getting married

About Me

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Shakespeare,Da Vinci, Benjamin Franklin and Lincoln never saw a movie,heard a radio or looked at TV. They had loneliness and knew what to do with it. Thay were not afraid of being lonely because they knew that was when the creative mood in them would work.