Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Unambitious Martyr A.K.A Indian Women

27 november, 2012

*new girl walks in.*
*drinks water*
*starts running on the treadmill besides mine*
New girl: Hey.
Me: Hi.
Brain : Please just let me run.
NG: So how long have you been gymming?
Me: Two years in total. But this gym an year.
NG: Oh. I just joined.
NG: So what do you do?
Me: Mechanical Engineering.
Brain: I am not asking you any counter questions. Doesn't that make you realize I am more interested in running than talking?
NG: Great!
Brain : I don't think you are getting the clue. *stops running* Okay now let's talk.
Me: So what do you do?
NG: I "used" to run a boutique.
Me: "Used to" is a very sad phrase. Are you married?
NG: Yeah.
Brain: I don't think I can talk to you anymore.
Me: Why did you quit?
NG: I figured my family needed me more.
Me: Oh.
Brain: Right. Brb puking.
*leaves treadmill abruptly and starts doing the spinner.*

I refuse to have conversations or even stand in the vicinity of such a woman. Seriously? Stop making yourself believe that you stopped working or you stopped dreaming because your family needs you. Family needs especially your husband's can be very well met at night after work. "My in-laws don't let me work" is even a stupid-er statement. If only you had the zeal to work and be independent you would have inquired enough before marriage to make such a mistake.

One day when you'll be 40 and lonely with a 20 year old son who has already moved out and your are alone at home waiting for your husband to come home you'll know what I mean. He'll come, order around like he is the only one who works all day long because he can and you allowed him to.
Respect is earned.

And it sure as hell isn't earned by being dependent on somebody.

You did your share when you carried the baby for 9 months in your womb. You don't have to (or make yourself believe) spend your entire life at home looking after him/her like you are the only parent.

Dependency doesn't earn you respect. Maybe sometimes only rebellion does.

Monday, November 26, 2012


Because downloading paid apps is on the top of my list.
Because online shopping is suddenly cool.
Because after 17years of hating it I am suddenly a shopaholic.
Because my Phone is suddenly something I can't live without.
Because I have to fish for torrents every hour of the day.
Because Fifty Shades Of Grey/Indian TV has all of a sudden become bearable.
Because even with the anti-feminist angle Anastasia Steele is my role model.
Because watching every new show a minute after it's released is now my aim in life.
Because my love for books has been rekindled.
Because I have my birthday in 50 days and my next exam in 4.
And now you know.

You have been missed! Not.

P.S: In other news it was Justin's birthday today. And apart from the fact that it comes along with my Aunt(The Bitch). The fact that I gifted him nothing, made my really proud. :')

And because cakes aren't cool anymore (read: I am broke and calorie conscious at the same time). I still called him at 12:00 AM,
If they still count that as a good gesture.

P.P.S(If thats even an abbreviation): No More Posts till Exams. Maybee... then again... Maybe not.!!!


Saturday, November 17, 2012

Deepaw-Lee \m/

So Diwali's here. I know this because the photo-tagging frenzy on Facebook has begun, with me being in tagged in a million pictures of things that symbolise Diwali, such as diyas, crackers, light-bulbs, burn victims, the superiority of the Aryan race and so on.

As you can tell, I’m totally looking forward to this festival of lights, prosperity and violently choking to death on suspended particulate matter the size of cockroaches. Every time I breathe during Diwali, it feels like my lungs are being french-kissed by a dementor. This, of course, is a throwback to ancient times when Lord Ram returned victorious from Lanka and was welcomed with a traditional feast of anti-histamines.

And smog is a really bad idea if you want the goddess of wealth to visit your home. It must really mess with navigation. I can just imagine her circling over Mumbai for hours, before giving up and dumping all the cash at Antilla, because that giant space vibrator is the only visible thing around.

But that’s just grumpy ol’ me. Everybody else seems to be happy, and by everybody else, I mean the people who are not doing Engineering, who apparently have no exams in the coming week.. and the people in the “festive season” ads that come attached to your daily newspaper. You know the ones I mean – idiots gathered around toasters and juicers, sporting grins that scream straitjackets and padded walls. Seriously, nobody should look that happy about a toaster, not unless it can cure cancer and has the ability to spontaneously generate threesomes.

It’s not all bad though. Diwali is that once-a-year chance to catch up with neighbours and relatives, so that you can remind yourself why you only meet these people once a year. Some of these people will invariably be the ones setting off firecrackers at 6 in the morning. There’s an important cultural reason which allows them to do this, i.e. murder is illegal. If you can’t think of any such person in your building, then it’s probably you, in which case I implore you, on behalf of all mankind, to firmly sit on the tip end of an exploding rocket.

Speaking of homicidal urges and vapid consumerism, there’s Bollywood, with its annual Diwali Box Office Showdown, which, in this case, is ‘Son of Sardaar’ vs. ‘Jab Tak Hai Jaan’. JTHJ is the story of SRK falling in love with Katrina and Anushka, because all the other ladies he used to romance are, in Bollywood terms, deceased. Meanwhile, Son of Sardaar stars Ajay Devgn, a man best known for brushing his teeth with dirt. If you’re wondering which one to watch, flip a coin and before it lands, go jump in Traffic.

In other Diwali news, eminent lawyer and BJP MP Ram Jethmalani recently said that Lord Ram was a bad husband because he didn’t trust his wife – a statement that outraged nobody with more than two functional brain cells. However, it did cause a flutter amongst the BJP, and understandably so, because you can’t just say something like that when you belong to the BJP. That’s like being a part of the Corleone family and announcing that the Don loved to wear pink ballerina tights. It may be true, but nobody wants it said out loud.

And I don’t know about you, but if some random man took hostage of my Wife, for soo long, He defintly was not hunting someone to play UNO with him. I think it’d be perfectly reasonable to ask her to walk through fire. Yup. Totally. In fact, that agnipariksha was the world’s first recorded instance of Truth or Dare.

Having said all that, it is important that we hold on to Diwali traditions and celebrations, because somebody needs to keep buying Chinese stuff. I wish you all a very happy Diwali, and no matter what caste, creed or community you belong to, I want you to know that if you tag me in a stupid FB picture, I will eat your children. Cheers!

Indian TV

Traditionally, killing an average sized bison(or knocking out half a Dolly Bindra) Is best achieved by drinking enough alcohol, but since one rum and cola at a bar now costs an apartment in South Mumbai, this is difficult to do. The other option is to do hard drugs. But for one, that’s illegal, and more importantly, nobody wants to be the guy that has something in common with Fardeen Khan. Luckily I’ve discovered a third, relatively inexpensive way to get the job done; put on your TV.

Indian television is the stupidest thing on the planet right now. If George W Bush, Digvijay Singh, Rakhi Sawant and Masterchef came together to form a giant super-robot of stupidity, it’d meet its match if it tried to out-stupid Indian television. Stupidity isn’t a crime though; not making even a basic effort to be anything else is a straight-up felony. And Indian television makes roughly as much effort as an Indian man on his 25th wedding anniversary.

Idiot box: In spite of several channels, there is nothing worthwhile to watch on television

In an era where television around the world is growing in scope and ambition, often surpassing cinema in its drive to be art, Indian TV is the guy in the back of the classroom with his finger in his nose. Everyone else has moved on to bath-salts and shower-gel. We’re still dealing in soaps.

This week, During my 'Exam preparation time' Midst(LOL) .. I took some time off to relax, what i saw was not only disturbing to mind, but also im not gonna hav my next boner in a decade ATLEAST..
I caught an episode of one of those shows that comes on at 10 pm and looks like all the others that come on at 10 pm. And 9 pm. And 7 am. The sort of show in which men show up once every six days, and all the women dress like they’ve just come back from Bappi Lahiri’s coming-out party. I think the name of the show was Kya Aapki Badi Acchi Kasauti Ke Baarein Mein Log Kahenge Vadhu Smriti Irani or something. And I am not making this up.
In the show, the bahu (Hindi for “person who is about to have a relentless stream of miserable things happening to her”) discovered a bomb while the family was praying. Except the bomb was stitched into the bandhgala of a child in the family. So she took him outside, bit the wires off with her teeth and then flung the jacket over the side of a cliff. As if Indian girls didn’t have enough pressure on them, now they’re going to have to add “defuse detonator attached to C4” to their list of “Things to learn for marriage” list.

If a writer anywhere else in the world came up with that, you would have only one course of action; call Warner Bros and tell them that their Looney Tunes stinking skunk has escaped and has come to your office again. But we put this on TV. You’re thinking “Why not just change the channel?” Because it just gets worse. Changing the channel takes you to “youth channels” that used to be music channels that now run reality programming where half the cast looks like it’s on heroin, and the other half look like they deal it. Another change takes you to sports channels, whose idea of post-match analysis is Sidhu dancing with three cheerleaders to Halkat Jawaani. A third change takes you to English channels, which you can’t watch because they’re like the Fill In The Blanks section of every school exam ever come to life. “She said _____________ to that _________, that _______ ____ ______” is what most shows sound like, because apparently, if we heard somebody say the word “gay” or “nipple”, god would drop the entire west coast into the ocean.

In pandering to what we condescendingly call “the lowest common denominator”, our own content diminishes us. It reduces us to a collection of our worst tics and stereotypes. It blows my mind that we currently have more TV channels on air than we ever did in the past, but somehow, at the same time, fewer unique ideas than we did back then. We need better TV. We deserve less stupidity. Though at this point, it’d probably be easier, less painful, and more fun, to just legalise drugs.