A Conversation

'What's up?'

'No.'

'No?'

'Yes.'

'That's so gay.'

Personal Space

Indians have a personal space issue.

Especially in public places.

Even more especially in public places like buses.

Now I  understand that we’re a country of a billion people, and that providing buses for these billion people, especially when there aren’t 1,33,33,333 buses (each bus holds 75 people. Do the math), will eventually result in crowded buses.

I hate travelling in crowded buses.

But luckily enough for me, people are generally idiots. Two of the exact same bus will happen to come by, one after the other, and they’ll all pile into the first one, leaving the second one completely empty. This is a good thing.

 

Generally.

Today, after waiting for about half an hour, I was ready to jump into the first bus that went my direction. Except when that bus eventually did arrive, it was packed to the bloody brim with people.

To give you a clear idea of what sort of people, I shall explain to you the surrounding conditions, and you shall infer the rest.

The temperature was at about 32 C, and heat index was at 37 C. That’s mighty hot. People sweat when it’s mighty hot.

People also sweat when they’re packed like rats.

Hey, hey! What a perfect combination of circumstances. The two things that bring out the sweat in people. Yay.

And I’m getting into this bus. First thing on the bus, and I’m already getting abused by the conductor for listening to my iPod. And then I get thrown in the mosh pit.

Wow. Arms and armpits flying everywhere. The sweat, the grime, the heat, the stickiness, the smell, the heat, the sweat, the heat.

Eugh.

About fifteen stops (I exaggerate not. I endured this for a whole forty minutes) later, the bus is reasonably clear, but there are still people clinging to me like I’m some life saver.

When they’ve got the entire bus to take their sweat to, they bring it to me. I must remember to thank them someday.

Personal space, people.

A foot on all sides, at all times.

He’s so chilled, he’s positively bipolar.

Monday was a very entertaining day for me.

I had an English exam on Monday. I generally find these terrible, boring, and drudgery-filled. Yuck would appropriately sum it up, because as much as I like reading, I don’t like ‘summarising’, ‘cause I find it hard.

Yes, I’m a loser. Live with it.

 

Back to story.

We had an English exam, and we couldn’t take the exam in the room assigned to us, and we got shifted a floor down. A friend of mine suggested calling our teacher and telling him (this wasn’t a scripted change, more of a spur of the moment get-outta-here-you-freaks decision) where we were, so he could find us. So I did.

 

“Sir, we’re in 101 and not 201 for writing our English exam.”

“What?” (I figured he couldn’t here me, ‘cause there was a lot of noise from his end)

“We’re writing it in 101 and not 201”

“Writing what?”

“Our English exam.”

“But you don’t have an exam today!”

“No, sir. We do… we’re all in class, waiting for you.”

“Oh, shit.”

 

We finally did write it, with me being given responsibility.

But whatever.

I love my college.

President?

“Whaddya talking about?” I  hear you ask “We don’t have a president.”

Oh, no. I must correct you. We do have a president.

“Yeah? Sez who?”

No, really.

“Naw. You’re talking through your hat.”

Okay, so let’s get this straight. You’ve seen that lady with the saree every now and then on the news channels?

“Yeah…?”

Yep. That one.

“What?!?”

You hear me.

“You mean… she’s our president? I thought she was the Prime Minister’s gardener!”

You’re pretty close on that one, lemme tell you. The only thing she does is tend to that garden of hers.

---

 

And that could probably be true. The conversation, I mean. Not the part about the president. That’s real. I’d much rather the other way ‘round.

‘Cause you know… gardeners, I’m told, don’t make very good leaders of countries. And she hasn’t done anything since she became president. She gave an acceptance speech which would have put a primary school kid to shame, and disappeared into obscurity.

I mean, do something with your power. You’ve got the entire damned country at your disposal. At the very least, you could declare an emergency.

Although an emergency under her, we’d all be forced to fade into obscurity.

 

First woman president.

Phooey.

Look! It’s the Saffron Brigade!

Will they save us?

Are they the salvation we’ve all been looking for?

Are they going to liberate us from this rubbish?

Shall we finally see an end to terrorism?

Or are they just a bunch of goons who’ve found a (not so) plausible reason to beat up people?

 

Yeah, that’s what I thought too.

Whatever happened to ‘secular democracy’?

Since when is campaigning for votes the same as hate speech?

Yep. Varun Gandhi, your friend and mine, has just been arrested for hate speech, and trying to incite communal violence. This is a good thing, and one of the few good things that we’ve got right in the recent past.

But looking past his arrest, we’ve got the RSS supporting this nincompoop, and we’ve also got people cheering at his speech.

Let’s come to the people a little later.

The RSS. These guys are trying to run for the central government, and if they’re elected, they’ll be in office for the next five years, and completely unanswerable to anyone. We’ve got some hot headed five year olds (emotionally, anyway) running our country, we’ll probably get involved in a couple of hundred wars, internal and external. We’ll have muslims, sikhs, buddhists, christians, zoarastrians, all being burned and shot at, ‘cause our lovely friend said so.

Our friend with the saffron scarf.

Our friend with the saffron scarf, who is the grandson of Nehru, arguably one of the most influential (in a good way, mind you) leaders in our history.

Our friend with the saffron scarf, the grandson of Nehru, who has read the Gita, and all it has to say about doing your duty and all that.

And apparently his duty is to see India burn.

Which, if allowed to be free, he will do with complete and total effectiveness. Atleast then we’ll have a politician who lives up to his word.

I don’t even think a party like the BJP is allowed to stand constitutionally. Aren’t all parties supposed to be secular? What’s with the whole Hindu-holier-than-thou-and-thou-shalt-burn-and-die attitude?

 

Quite frankly, I’d rather see Odie run the country than this guy.

We’d all be covered in drool, sure, but the BJP? Really?

Go forth and vote, I say. Go forth and make sure this guy never comes a hundred miles within the Rashtrapathi Bhavan.

Epic Fail

I set myself a challenge, remember?

Well, apparently, I didnt.

I failed.

Epically.

:(

“… and that’s what one atom said to the other.”

(Warning : This post is mildly geeky. People with allergies are advised to stay away.)

I think I first started learning Physics as a subject in the seventh, or the sixth, or something like that. Although the physics then was more “A good scientist always asks questions” sort of thing, no real physics.

But even then, when we started learning the rudiments, Newton’s Laws in their most basic forms, I was hearing things like

“When one body hits another with a speed, the other body does not want to stay still, it wants to move.”

My teachers were personifying the objects, giving them likes, dislikes, and a mind of their own. You piece together enough of this, and soon you’ll be giving them personalities of their own.

“But… no! Friction and motion are mortal enemies! I watched the battle the other day, and light and sound were the moderators. They always seemed the calmest of the lot.”

People will argue about who like who, and who hates who, and who is better, or ‘gooder’. You’ll have Physikmon cards, and people trading, and trying to attain the perfect set.

“I’ll trade you sound for inertia.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Sound diffracts easily!”

Possibly games for consoles, “Beat the Phenomenon” (Probably originate in Kerala, that one.)

An entire franchise, millions to be made of all this, all because some teachers are routinely personifying physics. Very cool, I think.

Although it is a very effective way of teaching, for people who have issues visualising, they just attribute it to the personality of the phenomenon, and that’ll be their explanation for a long time, or even forever.

This is a cycle, because if they go on to teach, then they’d teach the same way, and the kids they teach will teach the same way, and et cetera.

Although it is wrong to personify these things, they get the concepts right, and I suppose that’s what it’s all about.

I just find it downright hilarious.

Criminal Masterminds.

I saw something very disturbing yesterday in the papers.

Apparently during the last elections, in 2004, some 45% of our elected representatives had criminal records. Not like nice little amusing ones like road rage, or Grand Theft Auto, but ridiculously serious ones like murder, rape and extortion.

And they’ve all got sentences of more than two years (minimum) and apparently you can’t stand for elections if you’re a convicted criminal and have a sentence of more than two years, yet these people, quite chilled out, stand for elections, and get elected.

Anyone else spot something wrong with this?

And besides, even if they do stand for office, it would be nice if they have some plans for the city/state/country, instead of here, in singara chennai, we’ve got dear old overweight-lady, and senile-man, promising free rice and free colour televisions to people who vote for them, instead of really telling us what they’ve planned while in office.

On the other hand, when Obama was standing for election, we knew exactly what he was planning, with respect to Iraq, and Afghanistan, and the economy, and health care, and little old ladies, and stores, and kitchen wardrobe styles, Paris Hilton, New York subways, sandwiches…. you get the picture.

When our local goondas stand for election, we’ve got nothing except bribery. Bribery on a large, large scale. Sure, people argue that since a majority of our population is illiterate, there might not really be any point in telling them what is going to happen in the office. But they’re only illiterate, not stupid. That’s why you’ve got the televisio- oh. Is it even possible that our cranially challenged leaders thought of this, and forecasted this?

Oh, no. Wait. Our leaders. Okay. Where was I?

Television sets.

Television sets. Educate the uneducated, or reach out to the illiterates and all that… do that, and maybe for once in your life, you would actually deserve the position of power you get.

Returning to my original point – what the heck are the courts doing, allowing convicted criminals to run for office?

Sometimes, I just feel like hiding in a cupboard until this all blows over.

Count The Shadows

You’ve got to focus on all the silhouettes that you can see, because if the number keeps on changing, then you’re no use to me.

Lines of the chorus from a song I’m strangely addicted to. It’s actually quite a bad song, and ridiculous singing, but a very catchy tune. Go look it up at - “Chameleon Circuit – Count The Shadows”.

Day Two, now. Still don’t quite know how I’m going to finish this stupid challenge.

Today we (read : I) will talk about music. More specifically, we shall talk about the performing of music.

I learn the guitar, right? And I’ve been learning for the last nine years, and I’ve switched teachers quite a few times, and the one I’m with now is clearly the best teacher I’ve had for classical western music that I’ve had, by a long, long shot. And along with me, there are some twenty, thirty odd students learning the guitar, not to mention the innumerable number of people learning the bane of all instruments, the keyboard.

I’ve got an issue with people learning the keyboard. Sure, it’s a substitute for people who have no space for a piano, or can’t afford a piano, but that’s not all they use it for. They use it as a beat provider, and as a synthesiser.

Don’t get me wrong, here. I’m not all against keyboards. Professional musicians use them all the time, to great effect. But the difference is, they are producing their own music, not reproducing someone else’s music with a glorified toy.

There’s a certain beauty, or talent, if you will, involved with playing an instrument… a real one. The guitar, the violin, the piano, the saxophone, the harmonica, the harp, the freaking banjo requires more talent to play than the keyboard. To play the keyboard as a keyboard, not as a piano.

Anyway. So I’m sitting in class, and listening to the keyboardist bicker, because I have nothing better to do, and this one girl is playing a sonata by Mozart on the piano setting, and it sounds really nice. Then the ‘senior’ there (Some frumpy girl with an attitude, who thinks she’s queen ‘cause she’s finished eight grades) asks her :

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“….? Playing the sonata?”

“No. You’re playing it on piano.”

“…. yeah?”

“It’s WRONG!”

“What?”

“It’s WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! There is PROTOCOL to be followed. You can’t just put PIANO!”

 

I could have shot her at this point.

Protocol? Protocol my aunt Martha’s fag end.

The moronic, ninny, nitwit.

Sad part is that she truly believes that’s how it’s supposed to be done. Now she plays the keyboard wonderfully, and I take nothing away from her, but in my opinion, anything that sounds good goes. Playing a piano sonata on a guitar mode on a keyboard… now that’s just wrong.

That’s like having sugar and ghee with your idli.

Just not done.

P.S – Nothing personal against said girl.

P.P.S – If you did click through to the song, yes, I like it. What? Yes, it is pop.

What?

Yeah. It’s catchy, isn’t it?

No, I’m not buying the album when it comes out.

Challenge : Day One.

Now I’m hoping I can think of a liiiitle more creative titles as this goes on, but it isn’t off to a very good start so far.

My excuse is that it’s one in the morning, and I’ve just done two mind numbingly boring assignments, to the sound of some absolutely stunner U2 songs.

Yep. They’ve got a new album. No Line On The Horizon, apparently. I didn’t know that. I always thought there was a line. Hm. Then again, you always learn something new everyday.

 

Today I learned that skipping college, and hoping to hell your professors will follow suit isn’t a smart thing to do, especially if you can’t skip more than 22.5 days a semester. Why the point five? I suppose they want to give us hope, only to dash it to the ground, roaring in laughter at our bewildered looks at not being given another half a day of attendance.

 

Half a lousy day.

 

But I’ve got nothing to complain about. I’ve got another two and a half lousy days to skip.

Although knowing my record for attending college, having two and a half days to last me a month isn’t such a great thing.

I’ve got five hours a day, six days a week. Contrary to the economics department of my college, who gives them three hours free, and two hours to recover from home.

Yeah. That’s their life.

 

Yeah, my life sucks.

A Challenge, Perhaps?

I spend a lot of time on the internet.

Far too much time on the internet. 

Although one thing I've noticed lately, is that people seem to be doing stupid things. No, wait. The internet has always been stupid. A look at Facebook 'discussion forums' and you'd know what I mean.

Anyway.

People seem to be doing a lot of pointless things, and having fun with it. 

On Youtube, there was a channel where these two people tried to make a video every day of the week. But they stopped. Tough.

And other people attempting blogging challenges.

So I figured, one post a day, for a month.

Why not?

It'll just be so much more waste in the world, sure. 

But why not?

So starting... March 10th, for a month (April 10th, for the slower ones out there) I'm going to try and do a post a month.

Feel free to avoid me like the plague once you're done reading the drivel that I'm about to produce.

Sen-tient Beings?

So if you live in India, and have half a brain, you've probably heard of the pub-thing at Mangalore earlier this week, or month, or something like that.

Oh, last month apparently. End last month.

So.

If you live in India, and have half a brain, you've probably heard of the pub attack case late last month, and the tremendous fall out from it. 

Here's me, giving my two cents. Or less, as will be evident from the value of the following rant (?): 

Sri Ram Sena, the self professed moral police of India, just can't seem to get enough attention. Well, admittedly, seeing your name in print all over the country, and all over the world isn't something to mock at, although I'm sure people would love to appear in the news for all the right reasons.

"Hero saves day. Stops runaway train with bare hands"

"She stopped the plane from getting away with my husband : Woman-with-a-husband"

You know, hero-like feats, and general niceness. 

"Man beats up girl in pub"

"I hate women who are smarter than me, so I shall kill them - Sri Ram Sena guy"

Those aren't what people would like to be in the news for, generally.

But our dear friends from the Sena have broken all rules, and the rebels want to be in the news for those reasons specifically. 

The stupidity of the acts make it seem more like a bet, but apparently not. These guys really are that dumb. And they have egos to boot. Which gives them this 'master-of-all-the-world-known-and-unknown' complex. Not something nice to have, when you feel intellectually challenged by the less cranially gifted teaspoons. 

They've taken it upon themselves to stop 'the failure of morals in our country' or some other vague sentence like that. Just an excuse to beat up people, and vent their anger, the poor lugs.

Wearing jeans? I shall grunt at you menacingly.

Wearing tight jeans? I shall grunt at you menacingly and move agressively toward you.

Wearing tight jeans and have the misfortune of being a girl? I shall assemble forces and bodily assault you, until you see the folly of your ways, spawn of the devil!

Their views are completely hypocritical, and moronic. They don't do this to men, because obviously men are subject to different rules than women. One of the plus points of having a larger brain, right? 

And quite obviously, just because people wear jeans, their main aim in life is to walk around the country, untying the knots that hold our moral fabric up.

And furthermore, beating them up isn't wrong at all. Since violence in the name of 'protecting Indian values is justified.

They've just issued a warning to couples in Bangalore to watch out on Valentine's Day, because they don't want them getting together on Valentine's Day, because if you've got yourself a girlfriend/boyfriend, then your moral standards are so lax, that the only way you will be able to rectify it, is if you're beaten to within an inch of your life.

And this is what they intend to do.

"...whatever our men deem necessary action." is what the head of the Ram Sena said. 

Bring out the axes and chainsaws, then.

In the face of all this, what does our government do?

'We are considering their statement carefully, and shall discuss aprehending them as a preventive measure.'

Really? Discussing? Discussing what? What to feed these people?

The only way these guys are going to stop, is if they're dead. Next best thing? A solid jail term. Probably won't knock any sense into their heads, since they don't have enough room left for sense behind all that fanaticism, but it's worth a shot, I suppose. 

All That You Can't Leave Behind

Society is strange.

Exceedingly strange. 

Like shove-a-fork-in-your-eye-to-see-what-happens strange.

'Kitchi!' I hear you cry 'Why this sudden observation? Surely you've noticed this before? But then again, you've got the brains of a monkey. We're not counting on much.'

No, I've noticed. Although a little while ago, I just learned how absolutely skewed our perspectives are.

So I'm surfing the Wiki page for 'Black Metal', and came across the following statement.

"...some musicians have been associated with church burnings, murder and/or National Socialism."

How skewed a society do we have to live in, to club murder, arson, and socialism? To add a little more perspective to this - two of them deal with death, destruction and other ghastly words, and one's a political view.

A political view. 

How in the world can we club murder, with a political view? 

Jeez.

But I've just clicked through to find out what National Socialism is. 

Turns out it's a facy way of saying 'Filthy Nazi.'

So clubbing them together is completely warranted.

Rant negated.

Eek. A Terrorist.

I've just realised I've been missing out.

While other people have been 

ripping the terrorists (who attacked Mumbai a bit ago. 26/11 as the media is cleverly calling it) to shreds at various points of time, I've just completely ignored them. Left to the government, they'd accuse me of marginalisation, and ask me to give the terrorists a special quota on my blog.

But I shall thwart their evil attempts by blogging the terrorists. Or commenting on them, assuming my usual position of 'I'm smarter, therefore I can make fun of you'.

I believe that terrorists shouldn't be shot. Oh, no. 

Ridiculed, sure.

But outrightly killed, by shooting? No sir. 

They could be killed by the old and wonderful method, of tying each limb to a different car, and driving each car in a different direction. That would be cool. Serve them right, too. Killing rich people? *gasp* We won't stand for that, will we? No sir!

We could try sympathising with them, sure. The conversation would probably go something like this :

"Look, you've got the brains of a coconut, and the emotional maturity of a two year old. I'll give you a room, which is completely padded, and has toys for you to play with!" 

"The toys are infidel scum! I shall vanquish all the toys in the world!"

So sympathising wouldn't work.

Another thing that amuses me is they way these wonderful creatures think. I mean, the one terrorist who was captured from the attacks, was wearing a fake Versace t-shirt.

Fake.

I mean, the guy goes to all the trouble of obtaining firearms, and comes to India from Pakistan in a boat, and he buys a fake t-shirt? He obviously hasn't thought this thing through. He's obviously doing this to attain Jihadi paradise. And what would the 72 virgins of uncertain gender think of him, if he arrives in a fake t-shirt? 

Stingy. 

He was probably given a couple of million bucks, for the whole job. 

Or not. I don't know. I have no idea what terrorists are paid, if paid at all.

Taking a leaf out of Chuck Jones' hat, we could do this. 

With a wall in the direction of Coyote. It'd make good television, at any rate.

Aah - Toe! The Sequel

In the continuing trend of sequels, in all spheres of cinema, I too shall create a sequel.

This one's a personal experience.

So I'm waiting for a bus back from my guitar class, to get home. These buses aren't very frequent. One every fifteen minutes, or something, and it takes near an hour, sometimes an hour and a quarter, to get home by bus at that time of day.

So I'm waiting for over a half hour, and I decided to spend some money, and grab an auto home, or I might as well be getting home the next morning. Standing on the side of the road, at rush hour isn't a very enjoyable experience, but necessity is the father of all... necessity. Hence I was standing on the side of a road during rush hour. After getting yelled at, spat on, and plain ridiculed for how far away my house was, one kind soul offered to take me home.

Hurdle number one successfully cleared.

Now came the haggling over price.

(Note - Conversation has been translated into english, and has been embellished somewhat)

"How much do you want to take me home?"

"150"

"150? My dear man, you're out of your mind. I'll give you a hundred."

"A hundred? You poor misguided soul. Have you seen the traffic? You'll be lucky if you get home alive. 150"

"No. I've only got a 120. I'll give you a hundred and ten."

"You're going home, so you can go in and get some cash. 150."

After another five minutes of inventing excuses and reasons to not pay a 150, I ended up agreeing to give him a 140. Damn.

Anyway. 

So this isn't just one guy in the auto. Its two. Tag-team auto driving, like I've never seen before.

So I get into the auto, and no sooner are we (not so) up up and away, when we encounter the mother of all traffic jams. So one of the team gets out, and goes to find the source of the jam. He figures it isn't going to end any time soon, so asks his team-mate to take a u-turn, and get the heck out of there. But we're next to the median (made from those ridiculous metal stand things), but our ingenious auto man just moves the median out of the way to facilitate our u-turn.

We're then stuck in traffic going the other way. He doesn't like the way things are going. He wants more business.

Hence a couple of minutes later, I find myself seated next to this old couple, going elsewhere, which is apparently on the way home. Wonderful. 

Luckily I've got my iPod, so I don't have to make conversation.

Apparently not. I turn to be faced by two pairs of moving mouths, apparently directed at me, because the movement of the mouths is followed by expectant looks.

After some ridiculously painful small talk, we finally get to wherever they're going (in an auto I hired in the first place) get wished luck for the rest of my life, and we continue our journey.

When we get home (after a whole load of the scariest driving I've ever seen) the guy has the cheek to ask me for another ten bucks.

"Ten more? Why?"

"We took a detour."

They took a detour. For which they were paid a handsome sum of fifty rupees.

But let's forget that. 

Somehow I am to blame for him asking those nice people to get into the auto, and them taking a small detour to their house. 

Really, where do these people get it from?

Firengis.

So I've come to realise, there are actually two kinds of foreigners.

Foreigners who are Indian, and ones who aren't.

Okay, seriously. 

Two kinds of foreigners. 

One's who are interviewed by the media, and ones that aren't.

Right about now, you're probably going "But surely that's just chance? How can you classify them this way, when it isn't upto the foreigners in the first place?"

Well... there's a reason they're interviewed by the media. 

They like India.

Or they have some nice things to say about India.

Or they pretend to have nice things to say about India, and actually just want to see their names in print (Even if it is in India).

Now the one's that are interviewed by the media, just have nice things to say about us. 

"Oh, your culture is just so rich!"

"I really wish more people would appreciate your music"

"The art is very vibrant in this city, and country, as a whole"

"India is in touch with its culture, even in this day and age. Wonderful."

"I love being here... the locals are just so helpful."

And while interviewing all these people, we believe that we're interviewing a foriegn person in our country, and what they think is representative of their country, and hence we are highly thought of all over the world. Now, while this isn't wrong, it doesn't conform to being right, either.

We're being hypocrites.

If we do interview the ones that don't like India, we'd learn a lot of ourselves, and what we do wrong. 

The knee-jerk reaction to the above statement would be to say :

"Look, its our nation. We can do as we please. They visit us, they'd better learn about us."

While this is mostly okay, i.e. if you're a guest at someone's place, try not to offend them, its also not done to treat the guest like your dog's dog, if you're the host. 

So.

In the same vein, it isn't really done to inflict all our Indian-ness on some poor soul, who has come here completely not expecting in the least to be assaulted. In more than one sense.

No, it's only after we listen to the ones that don't like India, that we can do something collectively to be a little more receptive to foreigners. (Unless they're morons, and complain about the food being too spicy. Grow a stomach, pansy).

Why would we want to be more receptive to those people, who are completely against every ideal we hold dear in our motherland?

Simply because they aren't against every ideal that we hold dear in our motherland. 

And they often learn, and study our culture far better than we can. 

They document it better, anyway.

This is a good thing.

So ending the hypocrisy would be a good idea.

Loquacious

"But in a culture like ours, language is exclusive, not inclusive. Those on easy terms with words are distrusted. I was always encouraged to believe that cleverness and elegance with word obscured and twisted decent truth." 

- Stephen Fry

Reading his autobiography, this statement strikes me as ridiculously true. In all the fables I've ever read, all the children's stories, the villian (if possible) is potrayed as a glib, smooth talking wolf-like person. Someone who could run circles 'round your head with stories, and convince you to do something not conducive to your self. 

Ridiculous.

People have been telling me this since I was ye big, telling me that a person who talks to much shouldn't be trusted. Although talking too much isn't a yardstick, its talking to well that makes people get their guard up. 

Now in college, I had this problem. I didn't finish some work, and it was overdue by a couple of four weeks... and I explained to them, at the end of the four weeks why it was so late. To my credit, it was 90% truth, and 10% exaggaration, to warrant the four weeks. They had issues believing me, because I spoke so well. 

This often happens. I've got a large vocabulary. Larger than a lot of people, at any rate. Most people have a great grip on the language, but they don't really go beyond that. I take a certain amount of delight in words, hence the reasonable size of my vocabulary. At this point, I must hasten to add that by no means is my English fantastic. It has been brought to my notice that my grammar isn't great, and that my pronunciation could be topped by a chimpanzee with a slur. 

Now when I speak, I generally use a lot of words which I like. Words which aren't usually heard in everyday conversation, and hence by training, my teachers are prone to not believe me. 

Thinking about it, it seems like this is probably because glib people are generally smarter than non-glib people. People don't like smarter people, because smarter people make them feel dumb, hence glib people are looked upon as perpetually trying to put one over the other guy.

In defence of other word-y people, I just have to say this : We might be smarter than you, we might not. But we only occasionally try to put one over you guys, and even then (speaking for myself, now) its only just for fun.

Don't hate on us.

A Wintry Somnumbalist

Some people just can't take... well, I don't quite know how to complete that sentence.

So here's the story.

I was waiting outside the Dean's office at college, when this guy comes striding out of the office with a very important look on his face, and heads straight for the guy sitting next to me. The conversation is as follows, starting with the important chap.

Chap : Are you Varun?

Guy : Wha-? (Like he's just been woken up)

Chap : Are you Varun?

Guy : *looks confused for a bit, and stares into his phone for a bit*

Chap : (Yelling) Hey! Are you Varun?

Guy : *Looks slightly shocked*

Chap : *Gets quite annoyed*

Guy : (mumbling) yesgfpsnosphmhsn.

Chap : What? (Really annoyed now)

Guy : What?

Chap : Are you Varun?

Guy : *realisation dawns* Oh! No.

Chap : *makes a move to raise his hand, which has formed a fist, and then stalks off, no doubt cussing under his breath*

Its guys like these which make the world such an entertaining place.

Knee Jerks

So big news of the week - Obama won.

Hooray, and other assorted noises of joy and happiness. Not only for America, but for the world. 

Why, you ask?

Read the papers, fool. Its been there for the last... eon. I'm no expert on the topic. Not even close. Well, I doubt anyone can really be an expert in politics, but they've gone into it enough number of times for me to say all that again here.

Meanwhile in India, the politicians are having a whale of a time jerking their knees to anything and everything. 

What really astounded me was to see the following headline in a national newspaper "When will India find its Obama?"

What I figured I would be reading was an article about the stale politics in India, and how we are desperately in need of some new people, who aren't all about extorting the people at every elections. 

What I got instead was an article about how likely it was that India would get a dalit president. 

Ouch is all I was thinking, all through the article. Which I didn't read past line two, by the way. 

These people have joyfully ignored Obama's achievements in terms of him convincing America that at a relatively yound age, he was fit to be president, and his policies, and how he would try and lead America out of the stone age, and have instead chosen to see only this - A black president. 

A president from a minority community. A president from people traditionally marginalised. 

Is this what it's all about? A president from a minority community?

This is sick.

It's also a complete knee jerk reaction. They've got a minority president. Quick! Find one from here!

Quite sad, really.

I had a joke lined up, punning on the title. But I have no opportunity to use it.

Of Failed Story Attempts...

Suffice to say that I thought my two attempts at a story were sufficiently rubbish for me to abandon the idea with vigour. 

I shall resume my slovenly (albeit unhelpful) commentary on various useless things I (read : my mind) encounters every now and then.

... and I've struck upon hip-hop and rap.

Or to be more accurate, the culture that goes along with it.

I mean, to be annoyingly precise, the baggy pants, and the HUGE tee shirts, and the magnificently large and wasteful necklaces, and the extravagantly stupid 'grills' (grillz, in lingo, I'm told). 

The clothing bit is fine by me. I don't particularly care, because it follows my own personal belief. The baggier, the more comfortable. Hence, the better. What I don't get is why they have to stoop and shuffle like they're deeply afflicted by rheumatism. Boggles the mind. They're going to walk the same way in another 60 odd years... why do it now? 

Oh, probably practice, now that I think of it. I'm sure there's a Rheumatoid Olympics, which they want to enter, and they want to start practising now. 

So that's explained.

Next on the agenda - the chains, and the 'bling-bling, yo'. 

My first reaction is 'Wha-?'

Essentially what our slightly retartded and rheumatoid friends are doing is making it acceptable for men to wear jewellery. 

They've got necklaces the size of my car hanging around their necks... which explains the stoops.

But let us not linger on their modes of locomotion, I'm sure people are sick of it by now.

They wear braces, apparently. Which no normal person wants to do, even if its out of compulsion, but these people hop to it like... bunnies to chocolate? The direct comparison eludes me.  Point is, they do it, with vim and vigour befitting the most illustrious soldier in battle. 

And these aren't just braces. They're braces made of diamond. 

So they're loaded with brains too, then.

To calrify a point even further, they're wearing braces, made of diamonds.

Remind my again how that's smart...?

You've got the most expensive stone on the planet, nailed to your teeth. 

Doesn't exactly speak of abounding intelligence.

To conclude, here's my own cover of a famous rap song.

Yo, 

Yoyo.

Yo..... YO!

(Swear, in appropriate amounts. Depending on fame of singer, increase number of swears)

Ma' homie.

'sup nigga?

Nigga, nigga nigga.

Nigganigganigganigganigganigga YO!

Yoyoyoyoyo nigga.

Yea'.