Yesterday before the IPL started I was watching the news. To my pleasant surprise I heard this news about the MPs taking up the cause of the ordinary Indian family and our value system. The cheerleaders employed in IPL are vulgar and obscene. They are degrading to cricket. Next time they dance they should be arrested and thrown in jail just like the Bar dancers.
I am so relieved that AT LAST the saviors of Indian morality came forward and prevented me from sinning and saved my soul from being eternally condemned to the lower echelons of hell.
Thank god the cheerleader are a matter of priority in a country where parents have disowned a girl child. They are right actually, they should be given the right to kill the kid before she is born. Women ARE a burden on the family.
I hope removing the cheerleaders from the clean sport of cricket will stop the rapes of minor girls and public sexual harassments of women who attend parties. Well the rape is a girls fault anyway. She should be held responsible for any corruption of the values of sex starved Indian men.
Lastly I hope that women in close proximity of drunk men at the cricket grounds realize that it is their fault if they end up corrupting HIS moral fiber and god forbid something unpleasant happens to the man.
P.S. - Lets move to Afghanistan next to mullah omar's palatial presidential cave.
Showing posts with label Sarcasm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sarcasm. Show all posts
Friday, April 25, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
India IS a superpower
I have been hearing that India has the capability of being the NEXT super-power since I was 5. We have arrived on the global scene..FINALLY...Don't believe me? See this
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Mentally Detrimental Dental Science
Sooooo...haven't been posting regularly lately. Here is the reason..
After a LONG time had to visit a dentist as the toothache was UNBEARABLE. I consider my threshold of pain to be pretty high, but that day even the painkillers stopped working. Anyhoo, so finally went to this "dentist" at a "reputed" clinic near my home. The doc was nice enough to tell me your face is swollen you need root canal treatment. WO! he didn't even need a X-Ray to determine that MAN he must be good.
So, the treatment moved to the dentist's chair with me in a compromising position (NO YOU FILTHY MIND, I MEAN I HAD ANESTHESIA PUMPED IN MY MOUTH. GAWD!). Well I should have guessed all is not well when the hose called suction tube kept being shoved down my throat by the "dentist's assistant"(18-20 yr old kid). And then the doc says shit, I figured my dental hygiene needs help, alas I am still suffering from that momentary lapse of competency on the dentists part.
He said, OK.. enjoy..come back in 2 days I'll finish the job, here is my mobile number. Pretty helpful guy yaar I thought. He was just covering his ass I guess.
Thursday evening-
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up
Doc - It is ok, take the antibiotics and it will go away.
Friday evening -
Me - Doctor my face looks like yours (how I wish I had said that)
Doc - It is ok, take the antibiotics and it will go away.
Sat Morning
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up, no change AT ALL
Doc - OK come meet me, I'll take a look at it.
Doc - Hmm...you are allergic to the medicine I placed in the cavity, it is VERRRRRY rare.
I thought atleast the dude knows the reason!
Sunday Morning
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up, no change AT ALL
Doc - (SHIT! he would have thought) ok stop the antibiotics and meet me.
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Monday Morning
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Me - Well that seems harsh!
DAD - I am the one who has to look at your face. (I think he thot!)
Me - well OK, I like being an equal opportunity patient.
New DOC - WTF?? (no no he did not say that but MEANT it)! what happened?
Me - blah blah blah
New Doc - The tooth and gums are completely septic (infected) now, go pray to your gods that we can save the tooth(I rolled over and started glory glory Man Utd and the doc begged me to stop).
Well after numerous photo shoots of the tooth (for the benefit of mankind and dental students ) and ALL the NOOB docs and Interns taking a look at my mouth poking with shiny pointy thingys, it was decided to start treatment.
I still have to go to the hospital EVERYDAY at 9 BLOODY A.M. to recover from the shit incident that happened in the vicinity of my teeth.
I can't sue the guy as the new doc doesn't want to get involved in a 10yr battle and neither do I. For the same reason I am not mentioning the Clinic (extension of a well known hospital in Bangalore) or the "Doctor"'s name.
If I do not update the blog in the next week, consider me to be in a compromising position in a dentist's chair some where in Bangalore.
After a LONG time had to visit a dentist as the toothache was UNBEARABLE. I consider my threshold of pain to be pretty high, but that day even the painkillers stopped working. Anyhoo, so finally went to this "dentist" at a "reputed" clinic near my home. The doc was nice enough to tell me your face is swollen you need root canal treatment. WO! he didn't even need a X-Ray to determine that MAN he must be good.
So, the treatment moved to the dentist's chair with me in a compromising position (NO YOU FILTHY MIND, I MEAN I HAD ANESTHESIA PUMPED IN MY MOUTH. GAWD!). Well I should have guessed all is not well when the hose called suction tube kept being shoved down my throat by the "dentist's assistant"(18-20 yr old kid). And then the doc says shit, I figured my dental hygiene needs help, alas I am still suffering from that momentary lapse of competency on the dentists part.
He said, OK.. enjoy..come back in 2 days I'll finish the job, here is my mobile number. Pretty helpful guy yaar I thought. He was just covering his ass I guess.
Thursday evening-
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up
Doc - It is ok, take the antibiotics and it will go away.
Friday evening -
Me - Doctor my face looks like yours (how I wish I had said that)
Doc - It is ok, take the antibiotics and it will go away.
Sat Morning
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up, no change AT ALL
Doc - OK come meet me, I'll take a look at it.
Doc - Hmm...you are allergic to the medicine I placed in the cavity, it is VERRRRRY rare.
I thought atleast the dude knows the reason!
Sunday Morning
Me - Doctor my face is swollen up, no change AT ALL
Doc - (SHIT! he would have thought) ok stop the antibiotics and meet me.
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Monday Morning
DAD - You need to change doctors!
Me - Well that seems harsh!
DAD - I am the one who has to look at your face. (I think he thot!)
Me - well OK, I like being an equal opportunity patient.
New DOC - WTF?? (no no he did not say that but MEANT it)! what happened?
Me - blah blah blah
New Doc - The tooth and gums are completely septic (infected) now, go pray to your gods that we can save the tooth(I rolled over and started glory glory Man Utd and the doc begged me to stop).
Well after numerous photo shoots of the tooth (for the benefit of mankind and dental students ) and ALL the NOOB docs and Interns taking a look at my mouth poking with shiny pointy thingys, it was decided to start treatment.
I still have to go to the hospital EVERYDAY at 9 BLOODY A.M. to recover from the shit incident that happened in the vicinity of my teeth.
I can't sue the guy as the new doc doesn't want to get involved in a 10yr battle and neither do I. For the same reason I am not mentioning the Clinic (extension of a well known hospital in Bangalore) or the "Doctor"'s name.
If I do not update the blog in the next week, consider me to be in a compromising position in a dentist's chair some where in Bangalore.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Wierd world of punjabi abuses
The charges of racial abuse against bhajji have been dropped.
From BBC's website
"BBC sports editor Mihir Bose revealed that the Indians claimed Harbhajan had used a Hindi phrase that could be misheard as "big monkey" in English."
Welllllllllllll....that could only be the "phrase" used by Kareena kapoor in "Jab we met" or Rani Mukherji in "Bichchu"
The part that baffles me is Symonds is OK with bhajji abusing his mother but not with being called a monkey (which BTW in India is not a racial abuse. Some of our gods are monkeys for god's sake).
Wierd shit man!
P.S. if you still haven't figured out the PHRASE, please contact your nearest Punjabi for details!
UPDATE: From www.rediff.com (in case you did not know a Punjabi!)
"A viewing of the video shows that people were moving around but certainly Mr Tendulkar appears to have been closest to Mr Singh in the course of the heated exchange we are concerned with. Contrary to reports that Mr Tendulkar heard nothing he told me he heard a heated exchange and wished to calm Mr Singh down. His evidence was that there was swearing between the two. It was initiated by Mr Symonds. That he did not hear the word "monkey" or "big monkey" but he did say he heard Mr Singh use a term in his native tongue "teri maki" which appears to be pronounced with a "n". He said this is a term that sounds like "monkey" and could be misinterpreted for it," a copy of the judgement released by the International Cricket Council said.
From BBC's website
"BBC sports editor Mihir Bose revealed that the Indians claimed Harbhajan had used a Hindi phrase that could be misheard as "big monkey" in English."
Welllllllllllll....that could only be the "phrase" used by Kareena kapoor in "Jab we met" or Rani Mukherji in "Bichchu"
The part that baffles me is Symonds is OK with bhajji abusing his mother but not with being called a monkey (which BTW in India is not a racial abuse. Some of our gods are monkeys for god's sake).
Wierd shit man!
P.S. if you still haven't figured out the PHRASE, please contact your nearest Punjabi for details!
UPDATE: From www.rediff.com (in case you did not know a Punjabi!)
"A viewing of the video shows that people were moving around but certainly Mr Tendulkar appears to have been closest to Mr Singh in the course of the heated exchange we are concerned with. Contrary to reports that Mr Tendulkar heard nothing he told me he heard a heated exchange and wished to calm Mr Singh down. His evidence was that there was swearing between the two. It was initiated by Mr Symonds. That he did not hear the word "monkey" or "big monkey" but he did say he heard Mr Singh use a term in his native tongue "teri maki" which appears to be pronounced with a "n". He said this is a term that sounds like "monkey" and could be misinterpreted for it," a copy of the judgement released by the International Cricket Council said.
Monday, December 03, 2007
The great indian tamasha revisited
Had gone to attend another wedding last weekend in Delhi. Well I am 27, single (happily) and HATE crowds. As is customary and polite I ended up meeting with all my "relatives". well before I get to what went on there, the Delhi mornings are something I just need to get out of my system.
The flight being delayed by the mandatory hour, reaching Delhi at 2 a.m. you want to sleep the whole day. Around 6:30 a.m. you hear a crow around you window...aah I love the nature...you fall asleep again....6:35 RAJUUUUUUUU...ja ke doodh le ke aaa (Raju go and get some milk)...nope I'm not raju...he is the neighbor's son....I haven't been able to figure out his name in 20 years...maybe coz I never asked....you can hear yourself snoring. Then AAAAAAAAKHHHHHHHTHUUUUUU...snort SNOOOOOOOOOOOOORTTTTT....BETA GEEZER on kar de.....AAAAAAAAAAAAKKHH THUU....that was the OTHER neighbour brushing his dentures to get ready for the Indo-Pak cricket match. And then the Crow found out that jumping on the metal bolt of the door makes this hediously irritating sound like that of fingernails on a chalk board...and you are wide awake....
So after a refreshing 5 hour sleep you are ready for the show tonight!!
I have never been the best at anything in my family in terms of the money I earn...the way I look ...my marks in school and college and I like it that way. Anyhooo, to everyone's surprise (except from somebody in IT who knows how common it is) and my biggest mistake to date, I was in the US for about 4 months. So, with me trying to mingle with my relatives the question that is the answer to the world's problem of global warming comes up.
Aunty, uncle, raju, bubbly: BETAAAAA TU KAB LAGA RAHA HAI RAUNAK AB???(when are you getting screwed err sorry married)
Me: Ji aunty aapko bina bataye kaise...
Them: Arre tune koi dhundi nai abhi tak?? aaj kal to khud ki choice chalti hai!!
Me: Trying to smile.
Them: Tujhe to kafi time ho gaya na is company main??? kitna mil jata hai??
Me: err, ummm.....he he
Them: Meri beti, beta, nawasi, sachin tendulkar, rajnikant ka to 8 ka package hai.
Me: ( Wishing I had my i pod) kaafi acha hai "package"
Them: Haan, US main kitne milte the?? office kaise jata tha?? wahan to kafi mehnga hoga na?? US se kya le ke aaya???
Me: Still smiling, eyes squinting as chintu , the offspring of a distant cousin is figuring out that the sauce with his snacks tastes better on my trousers.
And then you repeat this with your cousins whose actual name is not known to you....only their nick name by the way of their locations....prasad nagar wale bhaiya, saket wali aunty....sadar wali chachi...and then you wish for the crow to come back and play on the door handle.....
The flight being delayed by the mandatory hour, reaching Delhi at 2 a.m. you want to sleep the whole day. Around 6:30 a.m. you hear a crow around you window...aah I love the nature...you fall asleep again....6:35 RAJUUUUUUUU...ja ke doodh le ke aaa (Raju go and get some milk)...nope I'm not raju...he is the neighbor's son....I haven't been able to figure out his name in 20 years...maybe coz I never asked....you can hear yourself snoring. Then AAAAAAAAKHHHHHHHTHUUUUUU...snort SNOOOOOOOOOOOOORTTTTT....BETA GEEZER on kar de.....AAAAAAAAAAAAKKHH THUU....that was the OTHER neighbour brushing his dentures to get ready for the Indo-Pak cricket match. And then the Crow found out that jumping on the metal bolt of the door makes this hediously irritating sound like that of fingernails on a chalk board...and you are wide awake....
So after a refreshing 5 hour sleep you are ready for the show tonight!!
I have never been the best at anything in my family in terms of the money I earn...the way I look ...my marks in school and college and I like it that way. Anyhooo, to everyone's surprise (except from somebody in IT who knows how common it is) and my biggest mistake to date, I was in the US for about 4 months. So, with me trying to mingle with my relatives the question that is the answer to the world's problem of global warming comes up.
Aunty, uncle, raju, bubbly: BETAAAAA TU KAB LAGA RAHA HAI RAUNAK AB???(when are you getting screwed err sorry married)
Me: Ji aunty aapko bina bataye kaise...
Them: Arre tune koi dhundi nai abhi tak?? aaj kal to khud ki choice chalti hai!!
Me: Trying to smile.
Them: Tujhe to kafi time ho gaya na is company main??? kitna mil jata hai??
Me: err, ummm.....he he
Them: Meri beti, beta, nawasi, sachin tendulkar, rajnikant ka to 8 ka package hai.
Me: ( Wishing I had my i pod) kaafi acha hai "package"
Them: Haan, US main kitne milte the?? office kaise jata tha?? wahan to kafi mehnga hoga na?? US se kya le ke aaya???
Me: Still smiling, eyes squinting as chintu , the offspring of a distant cousin is figuring out that the sauce with his snacks tastes better on my trousers.
And then you repeat this with your cousins whose actual name is not known to you....only their nick name by the way of their locations....prasad nagar wale bhaiya, saket wali aunty....sadar wali chachi...and then you wish for the crow to come back and play on the door handle.....
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Small Talk II
If you know me then you know I can't have the "Howz the weather" kinda conversation. That usually leaves me with my iPod when around new people. So I tried to change during this trip to Amreeka!!
It is a bit weird that we desperately seek change in the routines that are our lives, when we get the change we longed for we seek familiarity... So, the most critical task on the "to do" list. Get Indian food (can't cook so ready to eat :)) Being a guy I was finished with the shopping in 10 minutes and had about 20 minutes to kill before the cab got back to pick me up.
The owner of the store behind the counter (Also known as Bhaiya or Uncle) seemed harmless enough. So I took the plunge...
Lets skip the conversation and lemme tell you
1. He is from Rajisthan
2. Been in US for 15 years in Tucson for 12 years, 3 years in denver
3. Used to own a 3 Video Shops in Denver before Blockbuster and Netflix started and he moved to Tucson.
4. 1 daughter who is married and lives in Florida (who's inlaws are visiting btw)
5. Her husband is a doc (SURPRISE)
6. 1 son...yup he is a doc too
7. They are traveling to India to find him a Bride.(Sundar, Susheel, Saral ;)). Don't worry his daughter will take care of the shop in his absence.
8. The retail business is good. A big market for Indian stuff. Although they can't return perishable stuff to the supplier.
9. Some things are made for Import while others are the same for Indians and NRIs.
10. A freezer had broken down thus the fewer ready to eat Naans and Kulchas.
I was so proud of myself. Mission accomplished!! MAN I HAVE CHANGED!!!
Next week, out for grocery shopping. I went back to my new "friend". I asked him how's the plan for the trip coming along?? He said o.k. but looked at me weirdly. And it dawned on me..."UNCLE", did not know who the hell I was!!
I have started wearing my "CRAP, U R GONNA TALK TO ME AREN'T U???" shirt again. I think I need new earphones for my ipod.
It is a bit weird that we desperately seek change in the routines that are our lives, when we get the change we longed for we seek familiarity... So, the most critical task on the "to do" list. Get Indian food (can't cook so ready to eat :)) Being a guy I was finished with the shopping in 10 minutes and had about 20 minutes to kill before the cab got back to pick me up.
The owner of the store behind the counter (Also known as Bhaiya or Uncle) seemed harmless enough. So I took the plunge...
Lets skip the conversation and lemme tell you
1. He is from Rajisthan
2. Been in US for 15 years in Tucson for 12 years, 3 years in denver
3. Used to own a 3 Video Shops in Denver before Blockbuster and Netflix started and he moved to Tucson.
4. 1 daughter who is married and lives in Florida (who's inlaws are visiting btw)
5. Her husband is a doc (SURPRISE)
6. 1 son...yup he is a doc too
7. They are traveling to India to find him a Bride.(Sundar, Susheel, Saral ;)). Don't worry his daughter will take care of the shop in his absence.
8. The retail business is good. A big market for Indian stuff. Although they can't return perishable stuff to the supplier.
9. Some things are made for Import while others are the same for Indians and NRIs.
10. A freezer had broken down thus the fewer ready to eat Naans and Kulchas.
I was so proud of myself. Mission accomplished!! MAN I HAVE CHANGED!!!
Next week, out for grocery shopping. I went back to my new "friend". I asked him how's the plan for the trip coming along?? He said o.k. but looked at me weirdly. And it dawned on me..."UNCLE", did not know who the hell I was!!
I have started wearing my "CRAP, U R GONNA TALK TO ME AREN'T U???" shirt again. I think I need new earphones for my ipod.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Pothole Society
Today, after about 2 months I got stuck in a typical B'lore traffic jam. The kinds because of which I spend 45 minutes to get to my office...6 Kms away.
Anyhow, with all the variety of specimens that end up driving it is a pretty interesting mix.
The rules of India still apply though:
1) You always curse the person whose vehicle is of the same size as yours or smaller.
2) In case of an accident, the guy with a bigger gadi is at fault. Any damage to the bigger vehicle is well deserved.
3) The middle class which is the first to break the rules (drive on the footpath) is also the first to curse the infrastructure (yup me too).
4) Basic logic, driving sense and common courtesy are fairy tales
5) You curse the media (Fm radio) for being pathetic and still listen to them and try to save the world via SMS (please let us know if saddam should be hangged or tickled to death. Please send us a solution to the Kashmir/Mid east/ iraq/Constipation/stray dogs).
6) You curse the autowala who just spit in front of you and never think twice before watering any greenery next to the stick no bills or a no parking sign.
7) Reliance is still leveling the playing field. (The guy on a cycle just passed you while you are stuck in the traffic was telling his would, could, should or may be wife/gf how bad the traffic is)
All beacouse they don't build flyovers/metros/mono-rails I TELL YOU!
Anyhow, with all the variety of specimens that end up driving it is a pretty interesting mix.
The rules of India still apply though:
1) You always curse the person whose vehicle is of the same size as yours or smaller.
2) In case of an accident, the guy with a bigger gadi is at fault. Any damage to the bigger vehicle is well deserved.
3) The middle class which is the first to break the rules (drive on the footpath) is also the first to curse the infrastructure (yup me too).
4) Basic logic, driving sense and common courtesy are fairy tales
5) You curse the media (Fm radio) for being pathetic and still listen to them and try to save the world via SMS (please let us know if saddam should be hangged or tickled to death. Please send us a solution to the Kashmir/Mid east/ iraq/Constipation/stray dogs).
6) You curse the autowala who just spit in front of you and never think twice before watering any greenery next to the stick no bills or a no parking sign.
7) Reliance is still leveling the playing field. (The guy on a cycle just passed you while you are stuck in the traffic was telling his would, could, should or may be wife/gf how bad the traffic is)
All beacouse they don't build flyovers/metros/mono-rails I TELL YOU!
Thursday, December 14, 2006
The great indian tamasha - 2
Continued from here:
So you think you have survived? Hope to get up as late as possible the next day?? Hope you can watch the Arsenal Vs Chelsea football match. Well you are pretty optimistic. You have been assigned a task by the overwhelmed family of the bride. Take your pick.
1) The 6 A.M. recieving party at the railway station: Well "recieving party" works two ways. The obvious one is you get to be the sheaperd to all the relatives of the groom who will be gracing you with their presence. Also, you are the designated telephone (a mobile one too) operator. How you ask? well the driver of the official bus is not a mobile user (Mr Ambani is going to provide him with a free reliance set soon). So you need to convey the status of search party 2 to him periodically so that he can stay at his current location till.... well till the bus is full (I couldn't figure out the relation either).....The probability of the only train being late that day is directly proportional to your impatince.
2) The recieving party at the hotel: You gotta be at the hotel where the "BAKRA" and relatives will be put up. You need to well, show them to their rooms and help them get comfortable for whell about 12 Hours of their stay in Delhi, of which 8 will be spent in the Loo, 3 eating and the solitary hour sleeping. Incidently, the 1 hour of sleep will coincide with the actual marriage taking place.
3) Chaperone: Well the Bride to be has to look the best she can be, so you are the designated driver to go where no man has gone before.....well atleast you haven't....her beauty parlour.
Get ready dude, you will miss all the fun...and the fun is to wait for every other lady you will be escorting to the crime scene a.k.a "The Pandal". This can be described as a temporary bomb shelter with ample arangements of stuffing your self accompanied by lots of people in uncomfortable dressed clothes who can recognize you but for the saving grace of your facial hair.(Thank god for small miracles)
The Annoyance quotient of the occasion grows exponentially with the volume of the "D.J's" Remix of all Himesh reshamiah songs. Now pick a spot diagonally opposite to the make shift dance floor or else you will have to acompany one of the "Ladies" who couldn't sing yesterday and cant speak today not being able to walk tommorow. The only problem being the group of Shenai maestros who blow their talent directly into your brain.
Once the insatiable appetite of the guests is somewhat curbed and the have had their 15 seconds of fame. A still photo with the pair whose day this is and a small part in the video reel too. They mysteriously disappear. Note that the marriage hasn't yet started, The event for which they had supposedly come there. The pair is fed for they will need all their energy for the Secomd innings.
The Pandit (priest) is revising his performace. This somehow makes you uncomfortable..WHY??
well either he doesn't know his job....so you will have to be there for a LOONG time, or he does know what to do and well then you will have to be there for a LOONG time.
Time 1 A.M.
Temp 5 Deg C
Mood GET MY GUN!
The Grooms shoes have been promptly hidden by the bride's sister.(behind him both the sister and teh shoes.) The pandit is being widely ignored by everybody except for the one gentelman who has doubts about what the ritual is. This guy is inturn being ignored by teh pandit. The one irritating uncle/cousin you have who is always ignored, has got his chance to show you his new ceell phone and plays all the ringtones in his cell at full volume asking you after each is done "NICE NA??"
Time 3 A.M.
Temp 4 Deg C
Mood LOAD MY GUN!
The "Ladies" are negotiating the cash they can get for "stealing" the shoes. You are just staring into oblivion waiting for somebody to pay the pandit so that he stops explaining the nuances of Karma and Dharma with the background tone of PAPPU MOBILE uncle.
Time 5 A.M.
Temp 4.125 Deg C
Mood SHOOT ME!
After catching the rice crispies thrown by the bride (for some inexplicable reason) as she exits
the crime scene you can see your somwhere on the horizon. As you start rejoicing. Someone calls your name. You are supposed to drop the bride to her new home.... well atleast you will get some sleep in about half an hour.....but the Mobile less driver is MIA and you need to find him.....
So you think you have survived? Hope to get up as late as possible the next day?? Hope you can watch the Arsenal Vs Chelsea football match. Well you are pretty optimistic. You have been assigned a task by the overwhelmed family of the bride. Take your pick.
1) The 6 A.M. recieving party at the railway station: Well "recieving party" works two ways. The obvious one is you get to be the sheaperd to all the relatives of the groom who will be gracing you with their presence. Also, you are the designated telephone (a mobile one too) operator. How you ask? well the driver of the official bus is not a mobile user (Mr Ambani is going to provide him with a free reliance set soon). So you need to convey the status of search party 2 to him periodically so that he can stay at his current location till.... well till the bus is full (I couldn't figure out the relation either).....The probability of the only train being late that day is directly proportional to your impatince.
2) The recieving party at the hotel: You gotta be at the hotel where the "BAKRA" and relatives will be put up. You need to well, show them to their rooms and help them get comfortable for whell about 12 Hours of their stay in Delhi, of which 8 will be spent in the Loo, 3 eating and the solitary hour sleeping. Incidently, the 1 hour of sleep will coincide with the actual marriage taking place.
3) Chaperone: Well the Bride to be has to look the best she can be, so you are the designated driver to go where no man has gone before.....well atleast you haven't....her beauty parlour.
Get ready dude, you will miss all the fun...and the fun is to wait for every other lady you will be escorting to the crime scene a.k.a "The Pandal". This can be described as a temporary bomb shelter with ample arangements of stuffing your self accompanied by lots of people in uncomfortable dressed clothes who can recognize you but for the saving grace of your facial hair.(Thank god for small miracles)
The Annoyance quotient of the occasion grows exponentially with the volume of the "D.J's" Remix of all Himesh reshamiah songs. Now pick a spot diagonally opposite to the make shift dance floor or else you will have to acompany one of the "Ladies" who couldn't sing yesterday and cant speak today not being able to walk tommorow. The only problem being the group of Shenai maestros who blow their talent directly into your brain.
Once the insatiable appetite of the guests is somewhat curbed and the have had their 15 seconds of fame. A still photo with the pair whose day this is and a small part in the video reel too. They mysteriously disappear. Note that the marriage hasn't yet started, The event for which they had supposedly come there. The pair is fed for they will need all their energy for the Secomd innings.
The Pandit (priest) is revising his performace. This somehow makes you uncomfortable..WHY??
well either he doesn't know his job....so you will have to be there for a LOONG time, or he does know what to do and well then you will have to be there for a LOONG time.
Time 1 A.M.
Temp 5 Deg C
Mood GET MY GUN!
The Grooms shoes have been promptly hidden by the bride's sister.(behind him both the sister and teh shoes.) The pandit is being widely ignored by everybody except for the one gentelman who has doubts about what the ritual is. This guy is inturn being ignored by teh pandit. The one irritating uncle/cousin you have who is always ignored, has got his chance to show you his new ceell phone and plays all the ringtones in his cell at full volume asking you after each is done "NICE NA??"
Time 3 A.M.
Temp 4 Deg C
Mood LOAD MY GUN!
The "Ladies" are negotiating the cash they can get for "stealing" the shoes. You are just staring into oblivion waiting for somebody to pay the pandit so that he stops explaining the nuances of Karma and Dharma with the background tone of PAPPU MOBILE uncle.
Time 5 A.M.
Temp 4.125 Deg C
Mood SHOOT ME!
After catching the rice crispies thrown by the bride (for some inexplicable reason) as she exits
the crime scene you can see your somwhere on the horizon. As you start rejoicing. Someone calls your name. You are supposed to drop the bride to her new home.... well atleast you will get some sleep in about half an hour.....but the Mobile less driver is MIA and you need to find him.....
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
The Great Indian Tamasha - 1
If you are into bollywood movies then you obviously know about Hum Aapke Hain Kawn. My sis dragged me to watch that one. All my whining and protest were drowned out in the 14 or so songs looking for "The One" for Ms Dixit (NO NOT KEANU REEVES).
It is only fair that I cringe at the thought of attending any other event, reel or real life that makes me relive that traumatic experience (I'm scarred for life, nd it is my sis's fault). This weekend all my fears came back with a vengance!! That too in 3-d. This two part post will try to get you to sympathise with me and convince you not to invite me to the "happiest" (ha ha) day of your life.
Background: I'm a Bangalorean with the unfortunate coincidence of supposedly being a
Delhite. My cousin got married this weekend. I was pulled out of the self imposed premature retirement from my international career of attending social gatherings. CHALO DELHI!
The journey: Delhi was waiting for it's revenge, for the fact that I have been enjoying the great wheather of B'lore and hate cold. Any way after the mandatory delay the flight got us (me and dad) to New Delhi. Outside temp 12 Deg C. Got to the my aunt's place and colapsed on the bed....This was 2 a.m. Got up....did some things that were LONG overdue, got back home. Asked around...so what plans for the evening. The dreaded reply...LADIES SANGEET. NOOOOOOOOO
The EVENT:
Well if you are not familiar with this, lucky you. It involves the following.
Everybody is on the floor gathered around the floor ready to flex their vocal chords. One of your aunts on the floor with the "Dholak" The beat is the same as any Himesh Reshamiya song well remixed or not. Another aunt, sitting with her with a spoon (yup, a spoon), ready to pound the wood of the dholak to smithereens. Rest of the ladies (and hence the name) sit aroun clapping for the lack of any better thing to do, or the lack of instruments or both....not sure not to keen to find out either. The bride to be sitting on a chair somewhere in this mele, almost handicapped as her hands and leds are painted with some wierd orange pattern (coz of the Henna or mehndi).
So the guys, with ourImmaculate taste in music start to slowly slide towards the door can't stand up or you might be asked to move the mattress, get water or dance(HELL NO). As you escape the reign of terror, you reach the place where all the Men are sitting. Please note, there is a difference between Men and Guys...Men have given up any hope of escaping. Yes they are married. They get more exercise on this night because of some inexplicable reason, all kids start running around as soon as their Moms start "singing". The fathers wondering if when does the warranty for these things expire so that they can take em apart.
After about a couple of hours of pounding the dholak and trying to sync with the tape recorder (the guy on the tape doesn't know the lyrics you see) the end is near. The men have served their purpose by then finished as much food as possible, and fed the kids. Now feeding the women, well no comments. Everybody congratulates the host for the lovely food, arrangements, wheather, lights, air, life etc.
The journey back is great. Figure out the logistics of getting the people to fit in the vehicles that are available. And you wonder how the hell did they fit when they got here?? Well the thing is after 2 Hrs of singing all the ladies have an alterego that can(debateable) sing...so the number of people has doubled. However, how do you pry two women away who are discussing topics of national importance. Which saree should she wear, and what is the bride, her sister and their 4th cousin are gonna wear!!!
Then, the reviews start...the dholak was not tuned, the food was bad, the light wasn't enough, the water was too watery, the night was too dark. Now that most of the guys are deaf. The men have lost their power to hear anyhow, they are just the designated drivers.
Get home at 12ish. Go to sleep. live to fight another day....well the war has just started.
It is only fair that I cringe at the thought of attending any other event, reel or real life that makes me relive that traumatic experience (I'm scarred for life, nd it is my sis's fault). This weekend all my fears came back with a vengance!! That too in 3-d. This two part post will try to get you to sympathise with me and convince you not to invite me to the "happiest" (ha ha) day of your life.
Background: I'm a Bangalorean with the unfortunate coincidence of supposedly being a
Delhite. My cousin got married this weekend. I was pulled out of the self imposed premature retirement from my international career of attending social gatherings. CHALO DELHI!
The journey: Delhi was waiting for it's revenge, for the fact that I have been enjoying the great wheather of B'lore and hate cold. Any way after the mandatory delay the flight got us (me and dad) to New Delhi. Outside temp 12 Deg C. Got to the my aunt's place and colapsed on the bed....This was 2 a.m. Got up....did some things that were LONG overdue, got back home. Asked around...so what plans for the evening. The dreaded reply...LADIES SANGEET. NOOOOOOOOO
The EVENT:
Well if you are not familiar with this, lucky you. It involves the following.
Everybody is on the floor gathered around the floor ready to flex their vocal chords. One of your aunts on the floor with the "Dholak" The beat is the same as any Himesh Reshamiya song well remixed or not. Another aunt, sitting with her with a spoon (yup, a spoon), ready to pound the wood of the dholak to smithereens. Rest of the ladies (and hence the name) sit aroun clapping for the lack of any better thing to do, or the lack of instruments or both....not sure not to keen to find out either. The bride to be sitting on a chair somewhere in this mele, almost handicapped as her hands and leds are painted with some wierd orange pattern (coz of the Henna or mehndi).
So the guys, with ourImmaculate taste in music start to slowly slide towards the door can't stand up or you might be asked to move the mattress, get water or dance(HELL NO). As you escape the reign of terror, you reach the place where all the Men are sitting. Please note, there is a difference between Men and Guys...Men have given up any hope of escaping. Yes they are married. They get more exercise on this night because of some inexplicable reason, all kids start running around as soon as their Moms start "singing". The fathers wondering if when does the warranty for these things expire so that they can take em apart.
After about a couple of hours of pounding the dholak and trying to sync with the tape recorder (the guy on the tape doesn't know the lyrics you see) the end is near. The men have served their purpose by then finished as much food as possible, and fed the kids. Now feeding the women, well no comments. Everybody congratulates the host for the lovely food, arrangements, wheather, lights, air, life etc.
The journey back is great. Figure out the logistics of getting the people to fit in the vehicles that are available. And you wonder how the hell did they fit when they got here?? Well the thing is after 2 Hrs of singing all the ladies have an alterego that can(debateable) sing...so the number of people has doubled. However, how do you pry two women away who are discussing topics of national importance. Which saree should she wear, and what is the bride, her sister and their 4th cousin are gonna wear!!!
Then, the reviews start...the dholak was not tuned, the food was bad, the light wasn't enough, the water was too watery, the night was too dark. Now that most of the guys are deaf. The men have lost their power to hear anyhow, they are just the designated drivers.
Get home at 12ish. Go to sleep. live to fight another day....well the war has just started.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)