Sunday, June 26, 2005
Friday, June 24, 2005
Venue :New Boys Hostel ( The hostel where Me stays )
But I may have missed something.There may be something great hidden within that bottle.A lotta people drink , and they feel good about it.My dad drinks , most guys at IIM C drink , my uncle who spent 11 days in hospital with a liver problem due to drinking drinks, a lot of IIM girls drink and Devdaas drank. So something has to be there.And if there is ,I can always lie to my mom.I can actually drink without letting her know. Then I may not spend the next hostel party sipping coke around quiet south Indian girls while drunk guys go around ripping shirts , falling off tables and kissing each other.Any purpose in drinking? Hic.Hic.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
1945: Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombed.
1975: Indira Gandhi imposes emergency in India.
2005: Washerwoman at New Boys Hostel , IIM C goes missing.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Saturday, June 18, 2005
"hell, u r so artificial...trying to get one of your blog reader dames into bed with u, eh? "
This was a comment to my last post.I am smiling.sacchi.Actually this is the problem with our lifestyle these days.Achieve this.Grab that.Win it.A life of progress.A life where you are constantly judged and compared.Where the purpose of life is to be better than the others.And what stokes all this ? A single word which holds around 93% of life's problems and woes -
I mean it friends.EGO.Why did our friend post the above comment.Because he wants to belittle
me.Because belittling me would make him relatively higher.Thats the problem.We are no more
content to be ourselves.We are always comparing and judging.
Live your life.Life is not a race.You dont have to be better than others.Just be what you are comfortable being.
And I am amazed by the technological assumptions the comment implies.How can a fellow female blogger get into my bed ? Does she e-mails herself and I download her and take her printout and put that in my bed ?
But I am really not angry.Life is too short to carry hate in our hearts.Infact I am sorry if my writings have sexually aroused you anytime.I just write to bring a little more joy in this world.
And another reason I am happy is that monsoon in Bengal is about to set in.Heat is costly affair.I have spent a lot on buying Real juices , frooti packs , coke cans , aquafina bottles after coming to calcutta this time .A lot of cash has flown out on them. My dad thinks im into buying drugs to spend so much.My ma thinks Im into buying booze to spend so much.ma,papa,its just juice ,coke and water.
But now that the monsoons are coming ,spending would relax.The campus looks great when it rains.The lakes look great with all the water falling into them.Lush green trees.All the birds.The cool breeze.All the water coming into my room through an open window. Me spending half an hour sweeping it out.Beautiful.
And I have started jogging in the mornings.Ok.Just two days since I have started.But I intend to
keep doing that.With the wonderful campus , its wasteful to sleep open mouthed in a dinky room
till 9 in the morning.Its like listening to radio when you are a Michael Jackson live show.
That reminds me,they are making small Michael Jackson toys in America , so that kids can play with him ,for a change.But seriously if MJ is innocent, the poor man is being too bugged.Its wrong to trouble him for being a celebrity.
Sweat dripping off the elbows.The wet tee shirt clinging to the back.The "Om" locket around my
neck flaying wildly as I jog.Its real good going jogging .And then I reach the little bridge over the lake.I plop down on its wooden planked floor and stay there before I decide to jog back to the hostel.And I see quite a few of our professors.In shorts.With their kids.Wives.Its good to see them as normal people with kids and a family.They aint just interested in flunking me in all the finance courses.I pass a professor on my way.He is with his little grandchild.He is showing him the flowers along the path.I say a hello.He smiles back.And suddenly , for that moment , we are not teacher and student.We are just two human beings at different stages of our lives , enjoying the bliss of mother nature.Its good to shed our roles and just come across as two natural human beings.
Oh,now I can see real dark clouds through the window .Baras Jaa pyaare Megha .( Non Hindi guys : Shed some water dear cloud ).
So now I have to study.Till later friends.Be good and do good.Life is beautiful.And I dont want to seduce you.I swear.
Monday, June 13, 2005
And these wonderful gadgets purr in all the classes here at IIM Calcutta.So even if I sit between a fat girl with a hint of beard and a guy who allegedly tried to kiss another guy during the new year hostel party , attending classes is a pleasure .
These days I am beginning to spend a lot of time alone.I feel very peaceful and content these days.I am making a conscious decision to be what I am.And that makes me stay away from a lot of people with inflated egos I used to be with earlier just to be a part of the group. To be oneself , the most natural yet hardly followed thing. We got a total of seven lakes here at IIM C . We even got a little wooden bridge over one of them , just like those drawn in little nursery class books.The water is barely around 10 feet down from it.We even got ducks in the lake.I am beginning to spend a lot of early mornings sitting alone on the bridge and looking at the water , the ducks , the trees , hearing the sounds of splashing water , crickets and a lot more . Real lovely place , after a dance bar maybe. A couple of days back, me and a friend went over to the bridge after dinner and sat there for around two hours.We discussed a lot of issues ranging from degrading Indian culture to the lack of female professors to how appealing must Saddam Hussein look in a mini skirt. And I talked about "her" maybe for the first time after things broke up between us. I am not moping around.
But the episode has left me a lot more mature.I am no more the "Slurrp ! See a non-male goes there ! " type guy you tend to be after living through four years of engineering and one year of IIM . Thankfully , this experience has taken me further away from the type of people who fall for external attributes . I was reading this magazine earlier in the day where a guy comments he wont mind swapping girlfriends with his buddy ! Man , i pity you and your girlfriend.Romeo would have strangulated that guy . And even "she" was not a girlfriend to me anytime.I hate that term.
Simplicity and truth are the most treasured attributes for me and meeting people with such qualities is always a pleasant experience , especially if they are rich ladies . If you have seen Roja the movie , that kind of character , so innocent and simple , yet with an inner strength.
Simplicity in this artificial and plastic world. As common as condoms in a monk's shopping list.
Anyways , now that I am out of that thing with "her" , and even she has made it clear I mean as much as a music system to a deaf guy , I am feeling like before - content, single and gay.The tamil guy who moved into the next room looks real hot. You gotta check out his legs.
And I missed the strategic management class yesterday.I did want to attend it. I was waiting for my turn outside the hostel bathroom some 20 minutes before the class. A guy who must be around 6 feet , maybe more , walked up behind me and growled ,"See kid , I have to bathe first. The maximum I can do is to let you join me".
I had a pink bath mug in my right hand , a yellow bucket in my left.I was wearing just a towel around my waist.I looked up at him.To soap the back of a guy with dense chest hair and a gym membership sounds like an once in a lifetime experience , but I let him bathe first. Alone. So i got late for class. And hence I had to stay in my room when a heavenly AC was spewing paradise in Lecture room - 3 of the Academic block , IIM Calcutta.
Anyways , I really got to take a bath now before the 6 footer spots the bathroom before I get in. And in case that happens , I am carrying my nail cutter which has this little hidden knife to the bathroom along with the pink bathmug and the yellow bucket this time. So here I go. If I do not return , please drag that 6 foot guy with the thick chest hair and gym membership to the court. Let justice prevail.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
I have watched some three movies over the last two days.LA confidential , Van Wilder , Page 3.There is something very fine about watching movies on a computer rather than on a Television.
Arjun , the "imaandaar" son of an ultra "imaandaar" school teacher master Dinanath , has testified against Saleem Pistol ,who has risen from a rag picker to become a terrifying underworld baddy.To avenge the testification , Kareem Rifle , who is the big brother of Saleem Pistol , picks up his sword and takes off after Arjun. Arjun is standing in the queue at the local mother dairy to buy a litre of double toned milk.Kareem Rifle spots Arjun and charges towards him. Arjun spots Kareem Rifle running towards himself with a sword in hand.He panics , pees in his shorts, collects his milk polypacks and then runs.Kareem Rifle is after him.both running on a busy mumbai street.Panting.Sweating.The distance is closing between them.Kareem Rifle is too angry and charged up to let Arjun go and make a milk shake with that milk.Running over parked cars.vegetable carts.Arjun is tiring.Kareem Rifle is almost there.He makes a final lunge , floors Arjun, gets on him , yells horribly ,and pulls back his sword to chop down Arjun.
A baseball Cap wearing Sunny Deol tells me he wears "Jo pehne So comfortable" brand innerwear all the time because its 100% cotton and makes him feel like hes wearing nothing.Thats what commercial breaks do to you.When the sword on Arjun was about to come down and I was trembling with the anticipation of spurting blood and double toned milk , I suddenly have to acknowledge the underwear Sunny Deol wears.Thats the good part about watching movies on a computer rather than television.
No commercial breaks.How I love being concise.
But Sunny Deol and his "i feel nude" innerwear notwithstanding , I am loving this term. We can actually choose electives and study what we like.Thats a very good thing.Makes this term much more interesting.
And I have been reading a lot about Rapes these days.Its bad.But every male is being branded a part time rapist.See , not all of the males have boiling hormones.If I try to help a lady struggling with her shopping bags in a mall , she thinks my sole motive of existence is to impress her,and ask for her telephone number and address, and to turn up at her home on some rainy night and then to end up sleeping with all the females in her household.I mean , I know women have been living under a cloud of threat.But what do I do , wear a "I-wont-rape-you" tee shirt ?Anyways , what me worry.But if anyone thinks every male have this desire impress females , I am not a male according to his theory.
Some guys have better things to do than to think of girls .So relax ladies .Atleast I dont care.
A friend who reads my blog commented im beginning to sound like a misanthropist these days.Oh its perfectly fine.You dont need to drown youself in yourbath mug for not knowing the meaning of the word.Its one who hates the entire mankind.Thats news for me.I dont plan to throw acid on girls or to trip old men or to plug chewing gums onto the backsides of innocent citizens.But yeah , I am beginning to feel very comfortable with myself these days.Like I have no need to be a part of any group.I am becoming more and more of myself with each passing day.I am shedding all the pretensions and masks each of subconsciusly wear.Its like I need no one as an emotional support or to complete me.I am very fine with my solitude.Just give me some music and I can spend decades in my room alone.Maybe that makes me a little socially withdrawn.But I have two goals in life.One is to see Ashwarya Rai tie a rakhi on Vivek Oberoi's wrist and walk off into the sunset with me.The other is to lead a peaceful life where I dont have to be someone I am not. And just being myself brings me closer to the latter aim.
Someone just put on this south indian song at pretty ear-drum challenging decibel levels here.That reminds me , a lot of South Indian students have moved into the rooms around me.We call them "Idlis" here at IIM C. Nothing offensive.We are all Indians. Just that we call them "Idlis".All in good fun.And they are free to call us North Indians "Mattar paneer" or "Bread Pakoda" or anything. So I don't want any "Aiyyo , I swear on Rajnikanth Saaar , I weel keel you machaaan !" kind of comments now. But this sudden cultural exposure has been good for me.Suddenly I am one of the fairer guys on my hostel wing.
Anyways , I have to watch "Zeher " now. And guess what , without any Sunny Deols and "Jo pehne so comfortable" underwears.
On the Jukebox : Ek Na Ek Din - Lucky Ali
Thursday, June 09, 2005
See , I do not really care if anyone reads this.I have my fun writing.But still ,if you read my blog and do not comment ,this is not on.I am a vegetarian.I wont eat you unless I am real hungry.We can be friends and I can actually help you get a job some day.So do leave a comment ,just anything ,be it about your desire to kick me in the crotch real hard.Which anyways ,you cannot do online.
"Life is not a cartoon film abhinav! You have to learn to be serious. Grow Up !"
-- Old chinese proverb.Recited to me by everybody around me.
Huh ? serious ? I am serious.I am seriously serious.wait a minute.why do I be serious ?
Looks like there should be shops selling the "british-stiff-upper-lip" all over the world from the backwaters of Kerela to the red waters of the Red sea.It would sure run up seriously roaring sales.
Maybe the world thinks being serious is the same as being responsible.A guy who looks grimly stiff must be very particular about his work.The world thinks that a guy who looks straight faced is thinking about something deeply important and philosophical.In reality,he may be serious due to the constipation hes been suffering from.Or maybe from diarrohea which makes him shit like a camel.If you look serious enough to be paid to haunt a house ,you are thought to be responsible.
Infact , its the way kids are brought up around here , enjoyment is linked to all the useless things.Pappu enjoys playing cricket .Pappu's mom orders him to burn his cricket bat and study how gandhiji screwed the british.Pinki laughs a lot while playing with her Barbie dolls.Pinki's mom comes in , wrings the neck of her doll and tells her to find out more about the pythogoreas theorem.Little Sachin loves driving his cycle around the colony streets.Enter sachin's mom.She bans the cycle.Orders him to read about the water cycle.
Its like if you are enjoying , if you are laughing , you are not making yourself into a breadwinner.The entire Indian society is designed to make enjoyment a very ridiculed thing ,just after Saurav Ganguly.
So Pappu , Pinki and Sachin grow up to be fine young men/women/whatever who think anything they enjoy is basically as useless as a porous condom.Success is not about enjoyment.Its about sweat , struggle , competition , hard work as hard as a steel condom.
And this makes success mutually exclusive with enjoyment.If you want success,dont waste time in enjoying.
Pappu , Pinki , Sachin all would die one day . Poof . Gone. Hey guys , you left your dollars , cars , mansions , flat screen televisions , microwave owens all behind down here.Do I call the Blue Dart guys to send all this up there ?
When it all has to end a day ,whats the point in living life so intensely ? Why take it so hard ? Why crib about your job , about a broken relation , about a wrong that has happened.By the way ,my computer seems to have got too slow these days.Fuck.Anyways.Life is not about living in the past or future.Live in the moment.
All of you will die .If you drink cheap wine or eat too much of fatty stuff , you will die soon.I would die too ( Daactar , main marna nahi chahta !!).And what am I waiting for ? For life to throw up something one day which will make me happy for long ?
I dont think life would do it.Theres nothing which can make anyone perenially happy.You get a big car , and you want a big car with automatic transmission, you get that , and you want a big car with automatic transamission and a CD player , you get that , and then you get real fat and the doctor advises you to cycle to work.Without generalising the "I want a car" funda ,desires would never end.And no outside thing can make you happy forever.So stop waiting you cribber.That moment you are waiting for would come and die down and you will set off in the pursuit of the next one.
And youll miss all the fun along the street and keep dreaming about the massage parlour at the end of the street.
Hey , just put on this number "piyu bole" from the movie parineeta.Nice little melody.Anyways.And I am downloading "harold n kumar went to white castle" , some kind of cross over flick.Lets see how it turns out.Back to the gyaan.
So lighten up.
Work hard but grab the fact that your happiness aint in any screwed 18 hour job or any moment you are waiting for.Your happiness is right here.Smile a little.Smell the roses.Smell my socks.
You think Im some spoilt and pampered and insensitive brat yet to face the hard spiky life ? You think I dont have any worries ? You think I dont have any bleeding memories ? have you ever heard of this deadly ailment - limphoosircoma of the intestine ? Though I am not suffering from this , I have my share of heartaches.I have probably a lot more pain in my ass and heart than most.But its when life threatens to screw you that you need to smile and laugh more.Its not like im puttin up a fake attitude when my insides wants to cry.
Im not escaping my pain , i have embraced it , understood it ,taken responsibility of it ,and left it behind.Being miserable is so easy.I refuse to be miserable and serious and intense.
Not that I dont have any skeletons in my cupboard.I have enough of them , im planning to donate about a dozen to medical schools in Bihar.But I know skeletons would keep running into my cupboard.If I have to be happy , its my job. I cant let life decide about my happiness.So if I keep waiting for reasons to be happy , I wont be happy.A light heart is not a by product of circumstances , its the best way to live when the circumstances wanna push you down.So I am happy.Without a reason.You too smile right this moment.Ouch !You got a real stupid smile.
Life should be cartoon film for me.Do I need to grow up ?
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Ye world hai na world , isme do tarah ke log hote hai , ek jo finance mein major karte hai, aur wo jo marketing mein major karte hain.
And I have decided to major in marketing.This is the week where we have to decide upon a lot of electives for our specialization in MBA.And marketing it is for me.Between , aint "chhup chhup ke" from Bunty and Babli a catchy song ? listening to it and loving it.Apologies to my side roomie , but I am turning up the volume.Oh yea , about the specialisation.I think I would prefer a marketing job to a finance one.I can stuff free detergents or wafer bags in my shirt while returning from a HLL or Lays office .Wat do I steal from a financial firm ? balance sheets ?So marketing it is.So if a couple of years later , your door bell rings just when the India needs 8 runs off the last three balls , and you open the door to find a guy selling aluminium foils with
extra freshness at very reasonable rates , don't smash his head with your baseball bat , it may be me.
The good part about being at the hostel is that even if you want to play Bappi Lahiri at 4 in the morning , nobody can hurt you provided your room door is bolted strongly from the inside.Hmm..even "Nach Baliye" from Bunty and Babli aint bad,a little more decibels wont kill anyone , ever heard of anyone dying of ear-drum attack ?
But know what , its real humid here at calcutta.I dont wear a shirt when I am at my room.Salmaan bhai zindabaad.Infact , ill take a bath after the download of "Kya Kool Hai Hum" completes.I saw "Devdaas" yesterday.Paro.Paro.Paro.Paro.Abe chuck Paro Shahrukh bhai.I feel Devdaas could have been saved had his home TV carried ESPN.Poor guy did not know how to pass time and then that nutty Chunnilaal gave him that Bagpiper bottle to make a complete nut out of him.Huh , look at this.man man man.DC posts "Silence is the wavelength of the soul".Just this.This is a complete post.And more than 15 comments.Is the entire world going spiritual save me ?Am I the only one listening to this stupid song "cheeky girls" while the rest of you are dipping yourselves in the books of OSHO and discussing social and other deep rooted issues ? I better change the song to a more respectable "chadti jawani-ketchup mix."
And I will take a bath now.Then I will catch up with "kya kool..." and then I have to go to the dinky shop opposite the campus main gate to get a SIM card.I must have lost 273 tablespoons of fluids just travelling to that damn shop from my room.That guy thinks I want to smuggle a nuclear missile to Saudi Arabia.He is asking for all kinds of documents except my death certificate.
By the ways , the good part about Calcutta is that the girls here a lot more decent and pleasant than those at Delhi.Like I went to a multiplex at Delhi just before getting back to Calcutta.Im not the one to "hang around" such places much ."Hang around", as the youngsters these days call it.I have never been to a discotheque , do not drink , do not smoke , don't have a girlfriend , don't like fast food.You get the idea.I am like an audio cassette in a CD case.Like a 1979 Ambassador on a road reserved for luxury cars.Like a pajamas clad guy in an Allen Solly showroom.
But I went to this multiplex.A lot of young girls around.High class girls.Sunglasses.Piercings.Colored hair.Looked like brand ambassadors for the Indian undergarment industry.It embarrased me to just look at them.Low waist jeans.The "chaddi" straps peeping out.Skin tight tops."not-so-innocent" one liners across the fronts.Smoking and drinking girls.Colored hair.I am told this is modernism.The bold and independent girl of today.
Men are bad.Real bad.Just spend half an hour in any Delhi market place and you would feel ashamed about the way women are treated by the Delhi men.But those multiplex girls make me ashamed too.
Wearing surface area challenged clothes which wud put most Indian Garment mills out of work is womanhood ? Showing off your underwear strap just because a certain "Dj doll" decides to let the nation know wat she wears beneath her knickers in a music video , is womanhood? Wearing a "if u got it - flaunt it " tee shirt is womanhood ? Drinking and lying to your parents about it is womanhood? Wearing tight clothes which show off your figure with geometrical precision is womanhood ?
Wearing a simple salwaar kameez but being proud of your womanhood is.Wearing thick glasses but not having to lie to your parents is.Tying hair in a plain "choti" but helping an old woman cross the road is.Being another Kalpana Chawla is.Having the courage to be what you are instead of trying to follow Kareena Kapoor is.Womanhood is not about flaunting your figure , its about having the heart of a woman.
I was really appalled at the ways of those girls at the multiplex in Delhi.They cant inspire shayars and ghazals anymore.Only music videos.
Maybe Im an MCP.Maybe Im too backward in my thoughts and to make matters worse , I have the IQ of your bellybutton.Maybe its global warming forcing those girls to show so much skin.But just tell me - What part of liberation of women is in low waist jeans and showing "chaddi" straps ?
Anyways , the download of "Kya Kool.." completes."Chhup Chhup ke" is playing again on the jukebox.Real cool song.Do check it out.If you like it , remember me when you are dying .If you find it pathetic , I dont care.So time for a "snaan" , or a bath for the linguistically challenged. So till next time , bbye , be good , do good , remember to zip up your pants before going out , and chew with your mouth closed.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
I left Delhi this morning and a couple of hours later ,landed safely , here at IIM calcutta to start upon my second and final year of M.B.A.
I have set up the room . The clothes have been shoved in the almirah.The curtains have been put up.The computer has been set up.And I have got this table fan which whirrs and throws pretty good air.Its just so good to have it in this stuffy heat of Calcutta.
But I'm missing my family now.Would be fine once the classes start from tommorrow.But not now. Really want to sneak into the kitchen at my home right now , and scare my mom by shouting in her ear.And then she would turn and say "munnu ! tu kisi din heart attack dilwayega mujhko! ".She always says this when I do such stupidities.What would my Dad be doing right now ? Maybe he would be reading the newspaper.I always want to read the newspapar when hez reading it.I pull the newspaper and he pulls it back.Then ma comes in to settle the issue and we divide the newspaper pages.Im happy with the sports page usually.And then my sister would come in and call me a lazy bum or something to that effect.I would call her a stupid girl and then she would say that getting into IIM has gone to my head.I was surprised to see her cry at the airport this morning.She rarely cries without my hitting her.
Why do I have to be away from them.Oh yea,this career's sake.So that I earn a lot of money and make them more comfortable and proud of their munnu.I understand.My being here is the best thing for our family.But for those of you who are with their parents , dont let the moment go unrespected and unrelished.Maybe its only when we move apart that we realise the value of being together.
A Family is the most natural blessing.Maybe we have become so used to a ma working in the kitchen , to a dad reading the newspaper , to a sister teasing us that we don't notice them anymore , and search outside for someone special, something special .But nothing can ever come close to the love your parents give you. I look at my right hand. This hand has been through quite a lot.This hand slapped a guy when I was in class 6 ,caressed a glittering trophy when I was adjudged the best student in class 11 , high fived other hands when we joked at the college hostel.
But still the most natural and loving thing this hand must have done is to curl around my ma's finger.
The love in a mother's heart.That cannot be found in any investment bank , in any dollar note , in any degree .We guys search the world for trophies and medals.But the best and most natural form of joy you can get is in feeling the unconditional love your parents can give you.You will always have to return to your parents to see that glitter of true love and caring in their eyes.You may sleep on huge beds with lavish furnishings in an air conditioned room.But the timeless feeling of relaxation , without any work or tasks to worry about , is when I place my head in ma's lap and she strokes my hair lightly.
Neend kahin bhi aa sakti hai , par araam to ma ki god mein hi milta hain.
Have you ever talked to your ma about the moment you took your first step ? The twinkle in her eyes , the soft excitement in her voice , the slight smile on her lips , recounting that moment after all these years is something else.Different that any other joy.Its like her soul is
completely immersed in the unbridled joy of the moment when you pressed your soft and tiny foot against the earth on your own , for the first time.
So just remember that somewhere , those two people , are still wishing for your happiness with all their hearts , and still waiting to stroke your hair with their now frailer hands , and still feeling joy at every smile of yours.
People , you may have created empires , businesses , nations but those two people have created life. They have created you .
Life may be about achieving huge targets , getting into IIMs , getting a job in New York , buying fast cars . But life is also about watching your ma fold clothes , about sneaking behind her and surprising her,about pulling your sister's ponytail , about making your family laugh by acting stupid , about helping dad in cleaning the car , about mom calling me and asking me not to run down the hostel stairs too fast.
Life is not about a few big moments , but a million small ones.
So please go out , win the world , be a famous man , but please don't ever forget to care for the two golden hearts of your ma and dad back home, beating just for you.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
And I have to tell you this.My home did not have a satellite cable connection till May 2004.I think cable TV entered indian lives sometime in early 1990s.But all the TV at my home carried till the summer of 2004 was doordarshan.Two channels.One.Two.And then back to one.Lets not get into the reasons.But the talk of the colony used to be Mrs.Malhotra's extra marital affair,the aggarwal family feud, and the absence of cable TV at our home.
This channel , doordarshan , ran a regular news bulletin. The news there was read by women as sexy as Uma Bharti and men ashot as a cold coffee.And that was typical doordarshan.Women as plain as they get.It usually ran movies from the 1970s and the 1960s.The ones which proudly attached a little "eastmancolor" under the movie name.So while my friends watched Shahrukh stammer his way to glory , I watched Dilip Kumar ride a "taanga" in "naya daur".While salmaan attempted to destroy the indian shirts industry by promoting a "say no to shirts" campaign, I watched Manoj Kumar lose his eyes , legs and arms in every second movie.And while Karishma Kapoor wiggled her butt to "sexy sexy sexy" before drooling husbands and angry wives in cinema halls , I watched a saree-clad , no-noodle-straps, yet radiant Waheeda Rehmaan.
But thats not the point.The point is the break between the news bulletin.The time when those government sponsored advetisements came on.Say NO to drugs.Say NO to drinking.Say NO to "kandom" less sex.And say NO to girl discrimination.It showed stuff like a girl saying "bapoooooo main padna chahti hoon " , "main apne feet pe stand karna chahti hoon" , "main daaactar banna chahti hoon".These advertisements ended with the girl smilimg and clutching her degree victoriously.And then the message flashed :
Stop discriminating between boys and girls.ladka ladki barabar hain.
Treat boys and girls equally.
And I plead with the world around me.Treat boys and girls equally.
Take away the huge advantage girls get at every step of life.
Stop this "man"handling of boys.Stop treating the "UNFAIR" sex ( thats boys ) unfairly. As a sidenote , an american boy's skin is as white as snow.A south Indian girl's may be more like coca cola's color.But shes still said to belong to the fairer sex.Anyways, Let me explain the ways boys are treated unfairly.
There may be villages called daaruhera and jharsa where men drink "desi" hooch till midnight, go home , and beat their wives till the wine shop reopens.But I have never been to that village and can only write about what I see.
Have you ever driven a blood red BMW at 160 kms per hour with the car stereo playing some altaf raja song ? Neither have I.Instead I have to use a combination of auto ride , bus ride and hitchhiking to get to home each evening.Talk about asking for a lift.I stand near a barber shop after a day of hard work with my sleeves rolled up and tie loosened.I stick up my thumb to every passing vehicle.I keep an expresssion as if my wife is to have a delivery in three minutes and I need a lift.Still I have to wait for almost half the duration of a soccer match before some guy on a shaky scooter decides to stop for me.
And then this girl walks up next to me and stands there before the barber shop , seeking a lift . And the next leather clad guy on his monster bike screeches to a halt almost grazing my toes , let the dust cloud settle , looks back at the girl and asks "need a lift ,miss ?".She leaves with the uzbekistan wrestler clone.And i keep on my "I need a lift" show running.
Scene moves to the DTC bus.I am a small guy.So a lot of girls are capable of mashing me and stuffing me to make a stuffed vagabond parantha.But still these broad shouldered , biceps flaunting girls have these ladies seats reserved snugly for them.I have to stand in the crowded bus and struggle to keep my nose away from the armpits of the guy to my left and to keepmy butt away from the "dance master"-ish gay looking guy on my right.
Now for the interviews.Me in a starched white shirt.Navy blue trousers.A necktie.I walk in.The interviewer looks like a cross between a crocodile and kadar khan.I hand in my certificate file.He hardly looks at them.How many types of fan regulators do you know about ? , he asks with a frown. But saaaar , I am a computer engineer , I protest.He looks at me like his cellphone has more grey cells than my head.Havent u studied electrical engineering in term 3 ? Now I cant tell him that I got 37% marks in electrical engineering and dont know much about a fan , forget its regulator.I am out before you can spell regulator.
The next candidate in is a girl.White starched salwaar kameez.Enchanting smile.Pretty eyes.Heavenly ears.Wonderful nose.Even the hair in her nose would have looked marvellous.She walks in.The crocodile-kadar khan cross looks at her and forgets about his overweight and loud wife.He smiles widely.She sits down.She hands him her file.He goes through it with the interest of a teenager going through a porn magazine for the first time.OHHH , you have learnt Bharatnatyam ?? !! Tell me about it , miss ! And the next10 minutesare about the "mudraas" and whatever ways they twist their bodies in Bharatnatyam.And then the interview ends.No fan regulators.She is selected.I get ready for some other crocodile clone some other day.
And the list is endless.I am running out of time so would have to stop my outpouring about the gut wrenching discriminationI as a boy have faced till now.But believe me , its for real.And getting really real by the day as I watch the world around me.By now , the women liberation movement supporter in you would be itching to send a mob of angry and agitated broad shouldered women to my place.I swear I have never been to Maharashtra.I swear I have not accepted a nickel from the RSS.Neither do Ikeep a passport sized picture of Bal Thackrey in my wallet.I dont even have a trishul hidden under my bed.So as I get ready to leave office now ,you guys just remember the Doordarshan advertisement.
Treat boys and girls equally.I have to go now.An hour and a half later ,I would be found standing before the barber shop , sticking my thumb, asking for a lift from passing scooters and mopeds, in this unfair world.
And yea.My lovely sisterly angel (angelicsoulsback.blogspot.com) has got All india Rank 1 in the IIT master's entrance.And without any unfair advantage.A huge congrats to her !