Showing posts with label People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label People. Show all posts
Ray
So we are in a Mexican restaurant the other day, with a couple of Indians and an American. My colleague MP starts to narrate an incident about food. Now MP is a know-all…. apparently he used to be a professor in a college in Gujarat. He is interesting to listen to but sometimes he is grating with his all-round opinion on just about anything under the sun.   An American who sits opposite to him is all doe-eyed as if he is ready to get his lesson from Confucius himself. Now I don’t remember the whole story since my attention span for MP’s self important notions, is truly abysmal much like the politicians dozing and having a snoozefest in our Lok Sabha.

The topic has two keywords – food and tissue paper . We as Indians know that a tissue is something that is used when you have a runny nose, or you dropped something on the table, you need to clean up. So not a big deal if you are an Indian and the desis around the table already look around with impatience towards the waiter to get us our burritos especially with MP in his typical style just beating about the bush without getting to the point. Oh, but wait…. the American is just beginning to squirm. The Burrito is the last thing on his mind.

The food arrives and we dig in. MP digs in too, but even a mouth full of rice, beans , peppers and cheese isn’t enough to stop the Rambo of “I shall explain to you the hypothesis, theory and law behind our very existence”. Such trivial things like annoyed expressions, overacting of boredom theatrics do not bother MP who will continue to talk even if a man has half a ear. I have long lost interest but the burrito is kinda not that tasty so I have to order hot sauce. Meanwhile though since the human ears do not have an open and close button I am forced to listen.

MP by has now made Galileo and Einstein look like mere children in the scientific playground. We are used to this, however, everytime the words tissue and food are used in the same sentence, the American winces, flinches and makes a face that says he is just about to puke his burrito out on to his plate. He fiddles with his fork, his thumbs twiddle , his face is a riddle and I am afraid he is about to piddle.

Figures that the Americans call a tissue paper as a napkin, fair enough and a tissue paper is something you use in the toilet. Since MP’s world renowned explanations are so circuitous, they are like the foreplay before the main act. But before climax is reached, the American can’t take anymore of these life-threatening symptoms and he ejaculates prematurely which means he butts in.

“I think MP, you mean napkin, don’t you?”

MP shakes his head in disgust, what the f*** is a napkin, he asks.  Disturbing MP is equivalent to if someone had stolen Newton’s apple away and crushed it to make fresh apple juice, leaving the great English scientist with no fruits to base his theories on. 

The American clarifies “napkin that you use to clean your mouth.”

“Ah, yes yes,” MP says in a petulant manner finally looking at who has interrupted his gospel. He is agape at the American. He quickly downgrades his aggressive look to one that is similar to a moustached  rascala villain who is about to get beaten up by Rajnikanth.

“Oh you are soooo right Mr. American, I meant the napkin all this while. You see I have just come from India, my wife, she is been here a long while and is a lot more modern than me. And so as I was saying……………”

Now it is my turn to feel irritated. I felt miffed at MP for accepting the Amreekan’s opinion without informing him that in countries other than Uncle Sam, we have different terms that are just as correct or the terms are used interchangeably. Just because he calls it a napkin doesn’t mean you clean his backside,  and I don’t care if you are using a napkin, tissue or whatever to accomplish that. What has modernity got to do with calling something by a different name. Why the justification that oh my wife is more modern than me, which she might as well be and I don’t know how she ended up with him in the first place but that’s beside the point.

We Indians love to denigrate and sully our own and our country’s reputation just to gain a few brownie points. In another incident in my friend’s company, a boss asked his Indian subordinate about how was Mumbai as a place to visit in May. My friend who is a true Mumbaikar said May will be extremely hot but a cool cab will get you to all places comfortably. On the other hand, the Indian subordinate immediately said, Mumbai is a tough and polluted city, if you stand outside for half an hour , you will be blackened blah blah. This is downright silly and such people who mislead or dissuade potential tourists should be made to walk naked in the Frigid Canadian winter.

I for one never miss an opportunity to educate the people here about culture back home because all they know about India is through Slumdog Millionaire and that isn’t a good thing. If only Indians here would stop supporting that impression.
Ray
"Headlines" don't get saucier and more intelligent or tongue in cheek than this.

"After sex sting, Tiwari ejects prematurely" (Report: courtesy TOI)

Nice one !! "The Times" are good.

Anyone has some meaty headlines they might have come across ?
Ray

There is a saying that it is better to keep your mouth shut so that people assume you are dumb, than to open it and remove all doubt.

Frankly this could apply to me in many walks of life but an even more special case demands a few words or bandwidth on this blog. From my college acquaintances I know a guy called Mystery whom I happened to visit a few days ago. Now, now people, despite what you might imagine from his name, Mystery is no suave secret agent or someone who woos girls with just a look or dismantling criminals with high tech gadgets. Au contraire he is “something” which hardly fits a description. He is a wimp , a certified whiner. If one were to draw a portrait of him you would start with : a pakoda for a nose, rubbery ears that look like they might have been attached by a substandard glue and cheeks so swollen that sometimes I feel like checking if he has cotton stuffed up his mouth.

He listens to only English songs because he thinks India doesn’t make good music anymore as though he went to music school with Rahman. I doubt he has been to any kind of school. And now that cricket season is here, the game randomly and inevitably creeps into one of our discussions. His bullshitting antennae pop out of his head adding one more to the already loosely hanging parts on his face. India has never been good at the game, he claims having absolutely no idea about our cricket team's recent performances. He is the kind of guy who thinks it is great to support foreign teams like England and Australia just because one of his “30 cousins in between” uncle is residing there so he got to visit England once(admittedly that is good. I don’t get invited to my real aunty’s house also, but let us not go there).

Now smartass thinks I was born yesterday and prefers to shoot out random statistics. Throw everything at the wall and something might stick he thinks. So I decide to see how much of Australia he loves.


‘So you must have really followed every match of the Ashes’ I said
‘Ashes?’ he makes another funny face, which is a different facial expression from the one which is congenital. ‘No,’ he shakes his head
‘Ashes dude, the urn, the legend , the clash, the bodyline....'
‘Ah, bodyline, no dude I don’t like watching contact sport like Rugby or Football.’
Thanks a lot toadface , you just proved what a moron you are because the Ashes is the most prestigious "cricket series" between “England” and “Australia” from the last 127 years.


Moving on to relationships, he asks me about my ex-flame. I deny the flame ever existed and say that whatever it was it had been extinguished by female ego. And so says he is feeling sad all of a sudden because he remembers his first girlfriend and that's when you know whinathon is just around the corner. So what am I supposed to do, take him in my arms and caress him. First girlfriend eh, what about that , a bit strange considering his sexual orientation veers between men and dogs. So one girl in the past just praised him by saying "Good idea Mystery"(rumored to be, he offering to disappear from the face of this earth) and this turdpile thinks she is his girlfriend. What a loser!

I am not the guy who enjoys taking digs at other people but really guys like Mystery piss me off. I hate them. They are compulsive liars who have an opinion on everything but solution to none. Such bastards should be impaled through their backsides and arranged on shelves for display. Corporal punishment should be meted out to these no-gooders.

Finally, all this discussion took place over a bit of alcohol during which Mystery intermittently claimed that beer is the only drink which can satisfy him while gulping down close to ten cans of beer. This was once again in response to my just taking a small glass of wine.

At the time of writing this blog, Mystery has just filled his 9th bucket of puke, his eyes are perilously hanging from their sockets and sniff sniff…his bed seems to be wet with an ammonia like chemical mixture.