SCHOOL,YOU FOOL! by the Chauvinist

One cannot reason with a 1st grader who has failed his english dictation because there still isn't a logic as to why the word 'ball' is not spelled B-O-L-L.You could convince a first grader to believe  that he or she is too young to understand the funda, but trust me at about 24,even after having crowned yourself with that graduation hat,you'd still be wondering why its not B-O-L-L.

It ain't surprising as to why folks tend to be gravitated to Americanism.They are quite humble,at least when it comes to spellings.

If not for their bread,the French would've been persecuted for the hardships they've given the english speaking community.The British are obstinate about not simplifying things.

The system of schooling here in india (apparently inspired by the british one )is like parrot astrology-the parrot has no clue of what its doing and the astrologer has no clue of what he's saying.

Here,a kid has to turn 21 to drink,smoke and the worst of all marry.However,at the age of 15 when he hasn't even had his molars pop up is when he has to decide what he wants to be 15 years later down in his life.Not that the molars would make much of a difference but it must be for some reason that they call it wisdom tooth in school.

An 8th  grade kid here can build a complete sentence without any spelling mistakes ,but be assured that the grammar is not a tad bit right! 

It is in popular trend to send kids to english medium schools headed by the Central Board as against the state run schools that employ  the regional language as the medium of instruction.The irony of the matter is,the people who go to these prestigious CB schools neither know english nor the regional language properly. There are kids who can spell Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis without having to google it like most of us,but whats the point if he or she cannot read the time off a simple wall clock.

That twerp who crafted the current form of schooling in India needs some good spanking and has to be put through school once again in some country where education is aimed at creating a niche for  intellectual thinking and growth rather than making kids solve Pythagorus theorem before they aren't even old enough to have stopped peeing in their pants.For all you know,Pythagorus himself hadn't used the theory for any purpose.

Language and math are the subjects of utmost importance.You are never asked to write or speak your thoughts in school.All you end up writing is what some blooming idiot thought of whatever poem he had written some million years ago when the only source of entertainment probably was writing .Do they teach you to handle arithmetic well?Oh boy!you've gotta spend time on adding , subtracting,multiplying and dividing when you have people who've wasted the whole of their lives inventing something called a calculator!Its not the ability to analyze a problem that you are graded for,but breaking your head over something that a machine can do a thousand times faster than you and laugh at you while you are at it!

Those theories that you've probably spent sleepless nights to mug up couldn't entirely be useless.They could come into play sometime or the other,at least when you have to teach kids of your own.The question is whether you'd  recall that bunch of X's and Y's that are to be added onto some other value guarded inside brackets that are again of two or three types when you cannot remember the name of your crush in high school!

Today,when you can ask that lady enslaved into your iPhone to find an answer to anything including whether the world would end by 2012 and expect a logical answer,one really can't see how a textbook with illustrations as old as that of the pictographs by men of the neolithic period in Mesopotamia can help kids decipher as complex a concept as an engine.You really cannot do a thing about the system that printed and glued into high school textbooks Einsteins' speech criticizing the system of education prevalent .If the man was alive,he certainly would've committed suicide for this reason alone!

However,I cannot say i haven't learnt anything at all in school.If it wasn't for 14 years of schooling,i wouldn't have learnt 5 different methods of knotting a tie.But again,my field of work doesn't require a tie to be worn.

Cheers! 

The Chauvinist!

THANK GOD I'M AN ATHEIST! by the Chauvinist

I wanted to punch Tom in the face for what he had done.I didnt.My mom had taught me that one has to be nice to people and if we aint God would punish us.I didnt know what exactly he was going to do with tom,but i was sure it was going to be nothing less than grilling him on coal or feeding him to crocodiles.I watched the same Tom come to school for the next 3 years and go away to the US after his dad found a job there.
Initially,i was confused as to why God hadnt done anything to tommy, only later to figure out that his god was tall and had a beard as to mine who was blue in color and roamed around with a flute.I convinced myself that tom wasnt a part of my gods' jurisdiction.
I thought something like a pact between the two would be a bright idea.Something like exchange of prisoners of war sort of thing.

My friend Mohammad had no clue as to what his god looked like.I asked him if it  was the guy in the beard or the blue guy with a flute, he looked dumbstruck.He always did.
I shared my stuff with people,i watched less tv and i did my lessons well too while my friends watched too much cartoon and didnt share stuff.I was sure that they were going to regret it.Months passed without anything happening to them.Ofcourse,the teacher used to make them stand outside class for not completing homework,but then at the end of the day they'd get away without completing homework or attending the boring class.This i found to be unfair.

I made all attempts to meet god.I looked him up in the attic after hearing people in the house claiming everyday about someone from above watching.I checked them up on facebook too.Though i found a lot of men with the name,none of them were the color i was looking for.
This was about the time i started to have my doubts on the existence of god,i nor anybody i've ever known had met the man.I still had faith.until i got my math exam results.I had prayed to half a dozen gods whose pictures were hung onto the wall at home.According to my math,i was hoping to be one of the toppers.I was supposed to do my half and god was to take care of the rest.I hadnt done mine,but i had prayed to 6 of them.My math was bad.In both cases.

Being an atheist i must admit,is pretty cool.All you have to do is avoid or maybe just classify "OMG" to be a figure of speech.People take you to be some sort of a genius if your an atheist.You can do what you want to,for people dont consider you to have a morale whatsoever!

You can call yourself a logical person even if you dont have much of the uncommon common sense.Its like walking around with a license to kill.However,if one decides to turn into an
atheist,he is most likely to be tagged a communist too.Every communist could be an atheist,but i dont think the reverse quite works.But,its like that Kinder Joy chocolate,you cannot possibly get the chocolate or the toy seperately!
If an atheist decides to grow a beard and have long hair,hed be labelled a hippy.And if by any chance,the bloke is an artist he'd be called a druggie too.

Being an atheist and an artist,my parents are really worried as to how i would raise a kid.Im not really bothered.I dont think il even find a woman in the first place,but my parents,faith i'd say.Fate i mean!

Cheers :)
The Chauvinist

THE CHAUVINIST - by The Feminist

Everything happens for reason. And I have finally figured the reason out. It’s to piss me off! My future seems bleak and all my plans seem to be directionless at the moment. I have no money and no humorous friends around to keep me company. And the weather here is so hot that I might as well be living in a green house mansion. No matter how many inspirational quotes and philosophical books I read, I just can’t seem to make any sense out of them. So my dear readers, I have chosen you to listen to all my endless ranting, for I know you won’t judge me. For the very simple reason that you don’t know me.

And in these moments of utter loneliness and depression, I realized that I have spent 20 years of my life learning how to impress strangers, being nice to them and trying to prove to them how nice I am, I forgot to impress the most important person in my life -  me.

But you see the problem is, after so many years of ignoring me, how the hell do I start loving me? And this is where comes into my life a guy who proudly claims to be a male chauvinist. This person would without fail let you pay whole of the bill without even pretending to be a gentleman which in itself defies the law that has been in action from the time of the ancient Greek gods! This person would blame you for global warming just because you use more than one bucket of water to take bath each day! (if one of you can, please do explain to me how these two things are connected!!! O.0 )  This person would argue with you about everything and everything because annoying you is his one and only means of entertainment.

And amidst all this fighting and trying to defend myself, I realize that I am actually capable of seeing a brighter side of me and that it makes me learn more about myself. So all of these male chauvinists might look like smelly fishes, but beneath all the scales, there lies a truly noble sentiment. Whether they know it or not,  still needs to be researched upon. 

The feminist!

BEING WHO MAN? by The Chauvinist

While the youth around does so much to the society by wearing  tshirts that say INDIA AGAINST CORRUPTION or BEING HUMAN,here I am smoking american blend and wearing funny beer quote tshirts.I'd be damned!
Here in bombay,every second guy wears a BEING HUMAN tshirt,the clothing line is owned by a celebrity who has charges against him for running his car over a man  shooting a rare species animal and the list just goes on.
Whenever I see a guy wearing a Being Human Tshirt,i have an urge to punch him in the face and see blood gush out of his nose,but apparently every Being Human man is the size of Hanuman.

Offlate another celebrity has kickstarted a tv show that spotlights evil in the society.
The man definitely has a seat reserved in heaven,if not he'd buy one,there should be plenty of money left from the 30 million he earns from each episode.

Last time I was home,i caught my folks addicted to this reality show on a regional channel.
The format is quite simple,an old actor would play the negotiator in a verbal fight between couples on the brink of  divorce.There would also be a panel consisting of retired judges to spice up the whole thing.Few of my own folks were crying looking at the plight of some woman who was fighting to get her husband back from his mistress.
Sad situation,but I dont get why she or anybody for that matter would come on tv to share their problems.Its as lame as watching pornography with your whole family.My folks however,lost interest soon, the show they claimed lacked variety.

I had to deal with a client who wanted photographs of the city.Being the struggling artist I am,i went around for days with my gear and went back in with about 30 photographs.
The man had issues with my work.He claimed that my work conveyed just happiness.The man said he could get the editorial done as soon as I got him some variety.Begging handicapped people for instance.The editorial never happened.

I once made the mistake of tossing a few coins to a child who was begging.I usually dont do such a thing.But I had seen him look at kid walking out of a store with an ice cream cone.The kid all excited rushed in to get one while I went about doing my photography.In about 20 minutes,the kid had come back with about a dozen other friends of his and was demanding more money.I stood there looking at him and doubting whether i'd wet my pants.I was lucky enough to be spotted by the other photographer who had gone with me and she came in and sent the kids away.

The only time I felt the urge to attend an event for a social cause was when a female celebrity decided to strip.I didnt know what the cause was,but neither did the others who showed up.The event unfortunately didnt happen.I heard somebody say later that the celebrity didnt show up because she didnt have anything to wear to the event!Now that,I found to be a very lame excuse.

Cheers :)

The Chauvinist

DAD AND THE iPAD by the Chauvinist.

Everytime my dad comes to me for figuring out what a particular button does on his phone or tab,i'd secretly laugh out loud at him.Thats probably the only  time when i get to feel superior to him.I'd even make him wait at times,just so to take revenge for all the occasions he made me wait to get the remote,change the bloody news channel to put on Tom and Jerry. 

I was the tech guru back in my childhood.I could tweak and fix software issues on most computers and customize cellphones for all my uncles and aunts.

The good days came to an end with my kiddo cousin growing up.He's way too smarter than I am at things.He can figure out any damn gadget in a matter of minutes.

While i was walking around with my DSLR the last time i was home,he decided to stick around and watch me.Aware of the fact that he was eyeing me,i tried to make it look much complicated than it actually is.I changed my exposure a couple of times,played around with the scroll only to revert it back and take the shot.

After the shot I put on Mark Walhbergs' look from the movie Shooter and made it look as if i had just shot a president.

He walked to me and asked me if he could shoot with the DSLR,I was convinced that operating this would be a blow to the tech guru image he had stolen from me and happily handed over the camera.

He walked around for a while and came back with shots,the shots were compositionally wrong,but then he had managed to get the shots without any technical mistakes.The exposures were just right and the shots were steady. I said nothing and packed my gear.

I remember breaking my head over some setting on my phone that i couldn't tweak.Convinced that i couldn't solve it myself,i took it to the in house genius.He didn't quite like being disturbed during his daily dose of Cartoon shows.A  blue fat cat from japan was fighting the bad guys while i decided to wait.He solved my problem soon as the cat went away.

The new cartoons i must say lack quality and charm.All the new cartoons have people beating up each other and blowing things up!If you happen to see the new Tom and Jerry,you'd actually consider throwing the TV out of the window.The new tom and jerry look as if they've got typhoid and diabetes respectively.

The bloke who called the tv an idiot box,was an actual idiot. Tv was fun back then.Not anymore.

I grew up with my parents telling me every now and then about how they grew up without a TV or a computer and climbed trees or plucked fruits as kids.They'd play this card everytime i switched on my PC to game,this would put me in a situation.Growing up in a city that had trees only in public parks or between roads,i really couldnt climb trees even if i wanted to.My friend suggested that i tell them this,but after all they grew up without a TV or a computer, i didnt want to hurt their feelings.I actually felt bad for them.

However,their words made me realize a big trouble that was to come right at me.They could buy sympathy from me because they grew up without a computer or tv,but what am i going to do when i have a kid.Apparently,I did grow up with a tv,computer,gaming console,cellphone and a music player.I had even bought myself a DSLR in high school!!

I'd have to stand with my head down in front of my kid when he decides to switch on his gaming console every evening!I don't really know if there would be yet another revolutionary evolution of technology like the one that has been happening in the last 20 years or so.

I haven't lost all hope I must admit.If the rumors of the world coming to an  end is true,i'd be able to save myself from the embarrassment i'd have to go through with my kid.I wouldn't actually mind if we have to start right again from the stone age after 2012.I could cherish the days of the iPad and make my kid jealous!


Cheers :)

The Chauvinist

THE BALD AND THE BEAUTIFUL by the Chauvinist

After having watched Quentin Tarantinos Pulp Fiction,I wanted to be a contract killer.However,my dad didn't quite get my job description.I failed to convince him I must admit.I was still friends with the fat guy with thick specs who had poked me on my rear with a compass.So people had their doubts as to why I was hell bent about being a contract killer.
I was pretty convinced about the fact that real men were killing people.Eastwood,Connery,Stallone,Arnold Schezwan nigger(or however thats spelled) everybody.One way or the other they all were doing the same thing ,killing.
I had to grow up to be a high school boy to realize that my dream wasnt quite possible.
Most of the guys where athletes or into some kind sport.This gave them shape and me shame,i wasnt part of any.I could beat somebody at ludo or even monopoly,but running behind a ball with a dozen other people who have muscles you could BBQ on sunday and still have leftovers till next weekend wasnt happening at all.
I assured myself that sports was the real deal.I felt nothing close to a man.The only people I could connect with in a game were the cheergirls.Both them and I were doing pretty much the same thing,ofcourse I wasnt wearing miniskirts.
My belief lasted till the guys team lost to the girls team in the finals.

I started to take karate classes to finally get the feeling of doing something manly.
I spent most of my weekends watching Martial arts movies and trying them out in front of a mirror.I was all set to become bruce lee,it'd take a month or so I knew,but then I was finally going to be a real man.Bruce never happened,it was all bruises.Apparently there were more women taking self defence classes than men.The assault demos would require the guys in the class to be rapists or psychos trying to assault women.This was ofcourse a hypothetical situation,but my female partner didnt think so.
I wasnt surprised as to why men turn into psychos.

When every bloke started to get 6 pacs,i was tempted too.I rang up a friend who already had one(or six.) and decided to meet him for coffee.
He started off with workout sessions and supplements.It didnt seem all that hard.He then went onto the diet plan,i asked for the check.

I then took up smoking,that was manly.I was liking it.It wasnt all that hard. I started to take green tea as well,i had read in a magazine about the benefits of antioxidants for smokers.The very next issue mentioned how smoking affects the sperm count,I quit.

Eventually I got the manliness mantra.Baldness it is.A real man would go bald.
Scientifically right too.
Clint Eastwood is bald,so is hard to die man Bruce Willis.Connery,Jason Statham,Vin Diesel,Steve Jobs,all the real men!
I have a hairline thats depriciating like the pre android phones in the market.Im getting manlier by the day!
My long haired guy friend wasnt pleased at all.He brought up Jackie Chan.He claimed none of the bald men could do what Chan does .True,exactly why I dont consider him human.


Cheers :)

The Chauvinist

WHO’S THE MAN?   by the feminist

Just recently, as a result of boredom,   I was eavesdropping on my cousin while he was happily reciting all those cheesy lines from cheap novels to his girlfriend, or as he might say ‘his one and only white swan’.  After five minutes of eagerly pressing my ear to his bedroom door in the hopes of finding something to blackmail him later and failing, I was about to forget the mission and go to sleep when suddenly, I heard something unbelievable.

My brother was giggling. Yes! Giggling like a little school girl. Now this wouldn’t have come as a surprise if only he wasn’t so adamant on acting like a tough dude all the time. Of course, when I asked him about it, he first denied it and then reluctantly admitted to it insisting it be a called a ‘manly giggle’ for that is what it was.

Men aren’t genetically disallowed to giggle, cry or lay their emotions out on a platter.  But as soon as they do, we label them gay. The society forces them to shove all of their emotions into a dark cave and trap them inside. Therefore, not their will but rather, people around them influence their actions.

If somebody tells me to be myself, I would definitely throw a rock at their face because the moment you start being yourself, someone somewhere will start digging a grave for you… or rather, you would start digging your own grave.

This is a fact that men all around know. They might be spotted wearing light eye makeup and straightened hair in countries like Japan and South Korea, and girls will surely swoon over them. But the moment they step out, they will start wearing baggy jeans and cool shirts for the fear of being counted under the same head as Justin Beiber. Not to offend his fans, but come on! Would you rather call him pretty or handsome?

Calling someone a man is all about what culture we belong to. So next time you spot a guy wearing a skinny clothes and mascara and labeling him gay, stop a while before saying, he’s not a man…

The Feminist                                                    

HALOO by the chauvinist.

My friendship circle has a very small radius.My cousin in grade 2 probably has more friends.Ofcourse he is as stubborn and annoying as yours,but he can name all the players in the cricket team.
Somehow,I fail to posses respect for the tradition of cricket worship in my country.This unfortunately,has a lot of consequences.
Everytime i go to a gathering,i'd have to pour myself a drink and sit with a bunch of Men who stare at,eh,goats.

Sit and stalk women,thats pretty much all I'd do at a party.Not that I was complaining,but after a while you start to lose interest,especially when most of the women present are triple your size,twice your age or have boyfriends who look like they've come out of The Expendables movie.

I was itching to make friends.I considered walking upto a group and squeezing into their talk.I had done that once,the gentleman were busy talking about how certain rules of the game should be altered when I jumped in and stated how unfair the buckminister rule is,only later to realize that it was actually called the duckward lewis method.They got to know that i didnt know either of the two and I ended up losing the title of the genius/intellectual I had earned by staying away from the common man's conversation.

The situation demanded me to formulate a new strategy to make friends.After an hour, a couple of drinks and a "Eureka" I headed to the loo.
People talk about how they make friends at the bar,spa and theater.A world full of strangers and I was in a loo to make friends.
My first victim walked in and headed to a pot.I decided to go up to one that was a few away from his.I greeted him and we kickstarted a conversation.He was a good talker and pretty brainy too.Soon there was a problem.I had finished leaking,but he hadnt.This put in a dilemma,you wouldnt leave a friend at a dinner table when he isnt done,but then how long can you linger around for?
After washing our hands we shook them and I asked him to carry on as I had more people to meet.I spoke with a lot of men,and the last friend I made for the day was the washroom cleaner whom I had brought into a conversation by intentionally toppling the trash bin over.
I was convinced that the only method to possibly meet everybody at a party was to stay in the loo.I was on the top of the world for inventing this fabulous technique.I felt like Mark Zuckerberg.
The bubble burst soon as I opened the mens door to see the womens' door right across.

Ever since,I've been trying to develop a technique to make friends with women,but I havent made much of progress I must admit.
My technique I should say works only with men.This is because a guy wanting to use the loo would excuse himself and walk into one,whereas a woman would go to her girlfriend and then the friend would call her friend and then there would be a dozen chics giggling all the way to the washroom,like a bunch of annoying schoolgirls on a field trip. Offlate I've been working hard to tweak my technique to tackle the issue.The biggest obstacle however is that I dont know what a womens' room looks like.I've never been to one,not as yet.

Cheers :)
The Chauvinist

OF BUGS & INSECTS by the feminist

Of Bugs & Insects… 

Do you hate home cooked food, prefer to eat oily junk food 5 times a week and still not get a pouchy tummy? If you can, then congratulations! Give yourselves a pat on the back and relax, for you are most definitely the teenage college group who have been given the supernatural power to do nothing but eat tons and tons of food and still not be a victim to the dreaded ‘ salad diet’ syndrome. And if you are, then I’m sure your wives and girlfriends have already said everything there is to say and will I save you further embarrassment and not comment on the one pack muscles that you are the proud owner of.

I bet all of us at one point or the other have narrated a very fascinating and interesting tale of how much we are capable of gulping down our throats without choking on it in one go. And our friends have looked at us with admiration and maybe if you look closely, even a few jealous looks. That is the moment when we resemble that character from the Scooby dooby show.  Of course not the dog, I meant shaggy, the tall thin guy with the eating capacity of a gorilla, remember? Tap your - hidden from the world – cartoon network side of the brain and you would know it to be true.

So once you’ve stumbled across the fact that junk food tastes far better than home cooked low fat, low cholesterol, low everything food; you would without fail try to distract your mom from cooking and take her out by buttering her with all kinds of honey coated words.

However, I’m sure your view would change as soon as you are forced to eat the food that they serve in the mess, which is if you are ever unlucky enough to go away from home and land up in a hostel in the middle of nowhere. Personally, by the way they chop vegetables, I think they must be meat butchers before this job and were punished and forced to cook for us. And the utensils they serve you food in would undoubtedly be cleaner if you give it to a cat to lick it. And then right when you make up your mind and sit down to eat… BOOM! You would suddenly notice that you are meant to share it with another creature that you find struggling inside the curry. If this isn’t already enough, some of the days, you might even know precisely the length and the texture of the cook’s precious hair.

The sole person that gains anything out of this is your mom. Because next time she prepares bacon for you at home, you would be grateful and eat it with a big smile on your face!

The Feminist. 

BANG A LORE MR. BOND by the chauvinist

I was quite happy to see mr.ethan hunt chase the villan down to india in the 4th MI. My happiness vaporised soon as the bad guy stepped into the Sun Network Tv Broadcasting company claiming it to be some kind of a space research centre,to hit the big fat red button that'd turn the moon pink or make marijuana legal.
This year,the british agent mr bond was to come down to india.I guess its been quite a while since the gentlemans' slept with indian women.However,the stubborn Maharashta govt authorites,who are probably tom cruise fans,dissapproved and Bond just flew back home.

Id say Bond lost hope too soon.He shouldve flown down to Bangalore.Not that the women are any better,but the film would certainly have good twists.

Bond,being british we could assume kickstarts his day,just like the other english gentlemen;with a cup of tea .Dont be startled if u find a tequila glass on his breakfast tray,thats precisely the size of the glass in which Bangalorians have tea.
After his Raagi Upma,If bond was to take a rickshaw which mostly comes with a clueless driver,he'd probably have to ask for directions to a young geek in a white shirt and a weird shaped tie with a laptop case,he'd be told to head straight down the road and take the left turn at the dead end.
Apparently,Bangalore is someplace where it is quite possible to take a left or right from a dead end.So,if the bad guys manage to chase mr bond to the dead end of a tunnel and bond winks,dont misunderstand,hes probably showing off because he has a left or right to take.


Now,things are gonna be hard if bond has to break into an office to steal highly confidential files from a computer or copy itunes from the bad guys ipod,as every office with a computer I can think off in Bangalore has a night shift.
With pretty much nothing to do,Bond could go bar hopping.But the biggest disaster for bond comes after his shaken and not stirred drink.Bond is used to finding himself in a bed with a woman or more after he places 3 aces on the green table across which a one eyed or handed or legged or headed bad guy sits.
Unfortunately,gambling is banned.If bond thinks he could get a woman to his bed with a coupla salsa moves,tough luck.Dancing is banned too.

The rickshaw driver,whose fare would be more than twice the price of his rickshaw with him in it is most likely to be the baddest of the bad asses from the whole of bad ass land.
However,bond would be pleased to know that he could press the button on his steering wheel to pop the machine guns out of his tata nano and shred the rickshaw and the driver to pieces,the cop who has probably witnessed the kill would settle for half the bribe he asks for.
Infact the traditional clothing is just perfect for Bond business..Bond could use his dhothi as a parachute to jump off coconut trees and park his car in there otherwise.

Cheers ;)
The Chauvinist

THE BALLE BALLE DANCE by the feminist

The Balle Balle Dance 

What would you need to throw a big party? At the very least, perhaps an exaggerated amount of dishes, gallons and gallons of alcohol, couple of days running around planning themes… in short, way too much tension and too little fun.

On the other hand, gather a couple of Sikhs around with no money, no food, no plan and it’s still going to be a pretty brilliant party by itself. I had heard plenty of ‘sardaar’ jokes while growing up and I won’t deny forwarding some of the funny ones to my entire phone contact lists. I had also been warned by some of my friends about their anger and advised to keep my lips stitched together or the possibility of me missing my front teeth would be very high.

But it was only a few months ago that I actually had the chance to make friends with some of them. Though cautious at first, I soon began to notice their friendly and good humored nature and started interacting with them more freely. They have the ability rarely seen in people – the ability to make fun of themselves and being carefree about it. If you asked me to do the same, I would probably turn redder than a beetroot in embarrassment and use my bag as a monkey cap to hide my face!

I was invited to one of my Sikh friend’s house for lunch one day. Out of curiosity to know more about their culture, I accepted. Oh scratch that, I’ll admit it, I went for free food! I met his family, exchanged a few words in greetings and we all sat down for lunch. Simple paranthaas, curd and lassi. All things fattening and delicious looking! As we begin, I noticed how casual and informal the whole arrangement was. Everybody gathered up on one single cot, playfully conversing with each other, betting over who could finish their glass of milk and lassi first. What a feeling! Even if you tried to block all those positive vibes with all your might, you couldn’t.

As I became close friends with some of them, I suggested maybe we could all go for a dance party or something. They looked at me like it was the craziest idea they had ever heard of. Dressing up and spending money just to get an entry in for a dance party? Kidding right? Two of them got an empty bucket, turned it upside down, drummed on it, another guy got some crackers, and there we all were in beggar street clothes dancing like maniacs. At first it really did feel like a monkey dance, but as we got into the rhythm I could tell that I was enjoying myself more than I ever had in all the dance parties and clubs combined.

The simplicity of it all blew me away and I realized that is why they are always happy, smiling and laughing and ever so content. Being simple is the key. No exaggerated plans, no show, no meaningless words. Just simple everyday things to keep them happy. They showed me the true meaning of being down to earth. Maybe I too can learn their art of simple living someday.

The Feminist

PATRIOTIC POPCORN by the chauvinist

The inner voice in me,unlike yours does not preach.Its simply programmed to tell me when i need to do my laundry or call home or maybe burn some calories.
When it tells me that i've been lazying around for a while,Id put on a shirt, denim and tighten my belt to such an extent that it wouldnt fall even if an annoying school kid decided to hang onto it.

Everything buckled,id head to the local train station to try and get onto a local train.This,i believe is the most effective workout of all,especially when the platform ticket is as low as Rs.2

If you are new in town,you'd probably assume that the people out here dont go to work and simply keep switching trains all day.The crowd on trains

usually reminds me of the holocaust scenes from Schindlers' List.

You might even force yourself into believing that the world is to end that evening.I did.

The crowd is funny too.Everytime a man with facial hair and a cap puts his bag on the overhead compartment,all the eyes on the train would be on him until he picks up the bag and gets off the train.

mumbaikars,for all you know,he might just have a couple of pairs of boxers he has'nt washed in a while.Now that is most unlikely to blow up.

Bombay,i believe is the only place where you cannot possibly find a bite without Pav(Bread).Vada Pav, Batata Bajia Pav,Kanda Bajia Pav,Samosa Pav,Maska Pav,Burji Pav,Misal Pav,Pav Pakoda,Pav Bhaji and the list just goes on.

Mumbaikars eat pav all day.Though i love my Puttu And Kadala curry back at home ,i'd be equally happy if you served me some cereal and orange juice or Puri Bhaji and Chai or even a cup of strong black coffee and two slices of bread along with a bullseye with or without the yolk in place.(That probably says how modest i am!)

Another issue here in Bombay is finding a place that serves Beef.

Even with a million animals in the world that serve no purpose to mankind whatsoever,us indians had to pick the cow to be our god.HOLY COW!You couldve easily picked a Tiger or a Horse or a even a Pug for that matter,but u had to pick something that's probably much more delicious that any of the above.

Fellow Indians,if Cow is your god, I EAT YOUR GOD!

But if i was to believe in a superpower,id probably worship my dabbawala(lunch box delivery man).He is probably the superman in the neighbourhood.The person works all throughout the year and serves even if you call up an hour prior to your lunch time.This seems quite impossible to me.I keep telling people that i wouldve stayed in school if i had to work 6 days a week and 8 hours a day and heres' a bloke who doesn't take a break.I have my doubts as to whether he has 15 wives,but i consider it ill mannered to enquire.

Bombay is full of surprises.If you step into a Bar and decide to enjoy a smoke along with your drink,that huge bartender with a dragon tattoo on his right hand and a scar on his left cheek would show up to tell you that you aren't supposed to.This is something that i dont understand.A bar is not a place where an old woman with a heart condition is likely to show up dyingly to catch her breath.One does not go into a bar for yoga or meditation either.People drink in a bar and consumption of alcohol is injuries to health anyways.So,you wouldnt die because the bloke at the table right across lights a cigarrette.

So,its a sunday and you decide to catch your favourite movie,well,Bombay doesnt fall short of surprises there too.This is infact the lamest stunt of them all.Right when you have settled down on that soft seat with a stupendous pack of popcorn,tattling with your friend about the chic in front,a very fmiliar song  would start playing and all the folks would jump onto their feet.You all confused over the act would have the whole glass of coke all over your pants while getting up,identifying the song to be the national anthem.

A close friend and I have been called a wide variety of names because we simply remain seated while the others show respect to the country by standing up for the national anthem with spicy samosas in hand.

Strangely,despite all the mess here,people absolutely love the place.I wonder why.I'd probably understand once' i leave this place,go back home,put on some weight and decide to hit the gym.

Cheers! :)

The Chauvinist

MY ANGEL by the feminist

Have you ever once thought about how many hours a girl spends doing her eye makeup? Or

deciding what clothed to wear and what shade of lip gloss would go with the dress? And you

would think she is crazy and this is a waste of time. I think it is an unproductive activity as well.

But needless to say, I am a girl and play the role of a crazy fashion maniac sometimes too!

So on the day of a very important event happening in my college, I was all dressed up.

Complete with pretty jewelry and straightened hair. Now you see, even though I had done all

this to boost up my own confidence and feel good, compliments are always welcomed. So the

moment I stepped out of my room, all the other girls threw in compliments about how the new

style suits me and makes me look like a princess.

But I didn’t get any compliments from any of the guys I knew. Maybe one of the fifty guys said

something along the lines of how I looked a little ‘different’ but that just frustrated me even

further. As obvious as a new shade as a new shade of nail polish may seem to a girl, if you ask a

boy to spot the same, he would rather go fix a complicated electric appliance. . It’s not like I’m

miss popular and fish for self appraises but come on! One simple compliment of you look nice

from a boy would have sufficed me.

At the end of the day, when I failed to gather any extol, I was so frustrated that I wanted to pull

out the very first ever hair that grew on my scalp. But then came my angel, oh how I loved him

at that moment. He took one look at me and told me how pretty I was. This one little note of

observance made me fly in the air.

Maybe his intention was not to make me as happy as I was, but sometimes even the most

simple compliments can make a difference in somebody’s day.

The Feminist.

SHE FELL FOR MY COOKING by the chauvnist.

I have a friend who cooks pretty well. Though i enjoy her food, i've never  actually complimented her skills just so i dont hurt the male chauvinist in me.

Even with my least appreciative attitude,she'd call me over whenever she  found time to cook something that she tore out of a weekly or something.

The dishes would mostly be exotic.Now,exotic means two things to me-it  would have a name that I wouldnt be able to pronounce even if I took french  classes for over a 100 years & the quantum of food on the plate wouldnt be  enough to fill the tiniest of cats even after the third serving.The latter is what  bothers me the most as Im used to people who call me over when they  probably get a crate of beer and tonnes of junk food.

The dinner would mostly start with wine and end with a dessert as against  the beer and marlboro tradition im used to with my folks.

She,being the Connoisseur would sip the wine and let her taste buds tell her  the history of the wine while i'd be trying hard to recall the google search I  did a couple of hours back on holding the spoon and fork correctly.I'd wait  for her to pick up hers and follow suit so that i dont end up confusing her  as well.As the main course progresses she'd fill me in on the  history of the dish and i'd be contemplating on whether a third serving  would fill me.

With my only knowledge on the topic of food being eating,i'd have pretty  much nothing to say on such occasions and would continue doing what i  know best.

Things were pretty fine until the day she decided to ask me about my  favourite dishes.I wasn't sure as to whether she was expecting to hear  Kerala Paratha and Beef fry,but i certainly wouldnt change my tastes for a  woman that i wouldnt even try to flirt with.

The incident sort of hurt my ego and i decided to follow cookery shows on  Tv.Im used to listening cluelessly to guys swearing at each other over some  Real MAD  beating some ARSE a nail everytime i step out for coffee or  a smoke!Now that i watch tv,I started to tell them how Jennie and Sussy got eliminated  after they overspiced their Thai Chicken Soup and failed to please the judges.They'd give me a look,stare at each other and take a step away from me.

With hours of Tv shows,i totally forgot the sole purpose of watching them  and was getting emotionally involved with the participants.

However,i figured a way to tackle the problem.I'd call her up earlier and cunningly enquire as to what she was going to be cooking for dinner,

I'd google the dish and find out the details so that i would have something  to open my mouth for other than eating at the table.Alas!it worked! But the second time it didnt go well as i ended up memorizing details for an  entirely different dish as this particular dish spelled totally different from the  pronounciation as it was French or Braile or something.

With my wrong pronounciation of the dishes and elaborate  explanation,she was impressed and  thats exactly when i wished for the  ground to crack and take me right to hell as she now wanted me to cook it  for her!

The next morning,she asked me to jot down all the ingredients that i would need to cook.I sat down with a Pen and Paper,it was just like that day in school when the teacher decides to give u an undeclared test when you dont even remember her name or what subject she teaches.(They used to call it a 'Surprise' test in my school,i still havent figured out why,because for me a surprise is always a pleasent one!Unlike finidng a dead body in your car trunk or your boxers in the oven.)

There was no getting away,i had to cook.I was certain that i wouldn't be able to pull off the dish when i couldnt even pronounce it right!

So,I decided to tag along with her for shopping.

The Greengrocery section is particulary something i hate.Women would be all over the place.If you decide to be a gentleman and give the poor old lady behindyou  a chance to pick out the tomatoes from the box,you'd be standing there the whole day waiting and finally when you do get your turn you'd be left with an  empty box apart from the rotten tomatoes,while the neighborhood enjoys warm tomato soup.

I had all the vegetables that looked pleasing to the eye,the attendant warned me about a carrot being bad,but i ignored,it looked brilliant to me,the color tone was just perfect,he probably had to get his eyes checked.

My vegetables made absolute sense.Atleast to me.

Once we got back,I poured myself a drink and decided to put on the apron. I started off chopping vegetables while the meat defroze.

I put in some art into this task as well,there was absolute symmetry in every chop.You could create a million brilliant patterns with them,look at it and hallucinate.I was feeling like an actual chef.For a second i even considered switching my profession.

Soon she appeared in the kitchen after having changed  and sat on the platform sipping on the single malt whisky.This was making the chef in me very uncomfortable for i knew she could tell that i couldnt cook for shit.

So I somehow convinced her to go watch Tv.

Without her in the kitchen,i was getting back onto feeling like a chef again.

After having cooked the meat and vegetables with whatever ingredients i could lay my eyes on,i was able to get a good looking gravy.

It was'nt tasting bad,not good either.But after all,its an exotic dish,its just gotta have a weird name and has to be served in such a manner that you would have to wash just half the plate after finishing.

After the artistic plating i called her in.She came in and looked at it.She put on a smile and decided to put it on the table while i prepared the salad.While i turned around to my chopped vegetables to get started i heard something shatter.I rushed to the Dining hall.She had fallen for my cooking!she was flat on the floor along with the shattered plates and my art.I stood still.At that point,though an atheist i actually believed there is God and i thanked him for avoiding the bigger disaster that was to come.I picked up all thats on the floor and dropped it into the garbage except her.I dont know if she had intentionally dropped the plates and simply laid down on the floor,if so,u just saved yourself from a lot of medication my friend.

Cheers! :)

The Chauvinist