Wednesday, June 29, 2011


Diary Entry 13

Many people dread the number Thirteen. There is even a phobia called Triskaidekaphobia, fear of thirteen. In fact it has been suggested that there is a loss of around $900 million around the globe during Friday the 13th, because people are so afraid of the date and they move their wedding, travel plans etc to a later date. 

I dont think thirteen is unlucky. Angelina Jolie doesnt think that either. This lady got the number Thirteen tattooed to her hand (see image). Something bad must have happened to her right? Well she won the oscar for Changeling. Brad Pitt even left his long time girlfriend Jennifer Aniston for Angelina. I mean come on this lady is carrying this satanic number in her hand and she sees it every day. I dont know about you but getting a Oscar and if you are a girl having brad pitt as your boy friend isnt exactly something I would call bad luck.

Then there is all this fuss about Friday the 13th. I can see why the Christians and the Jews find it unlucky. But why the hindus and even athiests? Hindus, what happened to the good old times when we had our own superstitions like the cat crossing our path bringing bad luck. Cats scared the shit out of you people before. Now you have them as pets and make a fuss about Thirteen. Sometimes even the atheists gets it all messed up. They dont believe in god and shun it as superstition. Finding thirteen unlucky is not superstitious?

So when you see the number thirteen next time, dont run away like there is no tomorrow. Wait for a moment and look more closely. You might find Angelina there ;)

Previous Post - For those who think my english is good

Monday, June 27, 2011

For those who think my english is good

Diary Entry 12

My special thanks to Zephyr   

Dear Adulator,

Some people say my english is really great. Some even ask me for advice to help them improve. But the truth remains that my english is and will continue to remain pathetic. Maybe sometimes I can talk and impress you with words, but when it comes to writing my english is only as good as the english I had as a 5th grader. You know why? When I write, I still make the same mistakes I did then. Spelling has been something that has eluded me ever since I started to write. You dont see it here because of the spell check technology that gets rid of most of the errors. However the homophones and words that are spelled almost the same escape the spell check.

I had it all confused since I was young. Talking to women have helped me in a lot of places. Spelling is one of those places. I said this to a girl over the yahoo messenger,"Hey sweatie, wassup?". If you dont find any mistake in that then you are like me and I welcome you to the club. If you cant figure out why in the world I said that, I was actually trying to say sweetie and not sweatie. She for the first time thought that it was a honest mistake. But as I kept saying it, she thought I was making fun of her body odour. She told me to stop teasing her and that she will use a better perfume or deo next time.

You see people, the folks in school who were my english teachers never corrected spelling mistakes after the 5th grade. Mostly because if they corrected them, it would make them look silly. That did not help me and I kept making the same mistakes over and over again. Few of you might condone this and say hey everybody does that and that these things need no corrections. But its the people who have the guts to correct me when I am wrong that I like the most. My newly found friend corrected the spelling of a word I used when I sent her a message. The very next message she apologized for correcting me. Why should someone apologize for helping. I realize that most people are annoyed when they are corrected, but I on the other hand feel very grateful. So if you see me making mistakes please do correct them and dont  feel like you are correcting Milton. This ordinary guy with his ordinary english will think that you are Angel and not a Angle after that.


P.S - For those who have not heard me speak in English, I dont have that mallu accent for the most part. The only words I say with a mallu accent is Banana and Parrota (or Borrota or Barrota or whatever) .

Previous Post - The Terrorist

Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Terrorist

Diary Entry 11 

When I was in 8th grade nobody wanted to go to New Jersey, but my aunt talked us into it.  

My grandmother had to extend her visa the last time she was in the US. Though the Visa extension was approved, the documents was with my uncle in America and if you looked at her passport, you will think that she stayed for extra month last time illegally. Well that is exactly what the airport officials thought once we landed there. So this guy takes her to another room to verify. Me and my mother sit on the floor waiting for my grandmother and there is no sign of her. It so happens that they figured out that my grandmother got a visa extension within 10 minutes, but her passport was given to another lady. We had to wait for the officials to return her passport. So me and my mom wait and wait.

I drank too much free soda in the plane and I needed to use the toilet badly. So when I ask the guy there where the toilet was, he told me the nearest one is in the floor below, but if I go there I wont be able to come back up again. I told him that I needed to use the bathroom badly and then he asked me to use the one on the far corner of the floor I was in now. So I walk over there to take a leak. The only guy anywhere near the area is a cleaner who is moping the floor. I take a leak and walk back and this tall and muscular white guy stops me.

American: Sir.

Me: yeah?

American: What were you doing there?

Me: I went to piss.

American: It is a Restricted Area.

Me: The Toilet is a Restricted Area?

American: No that place is restricted. You are not supposed to go there.

Me: I am sorry sir. I wont do it again.

This is the response I have been giving my school teachers since kinder garden. My mother taught me that before the first day of school. I have always got away when I said this. But this guy wasnt going to let me go. I think he would have got a medal if he sent boys like me to prison.

American: Come with me.

I go with him to the toilet where I just went. I see the cleaner. I have never been more happy to see a toilet cleaner

Me: Sir. If you dont believe me when I tell you I pissed here. Please ask the man there who is mopping the floor.

American: Did you see this boy a moment ago?

Cleaner: Yes sir. I did.

American: You saw him, coming here and taking a leak?

Cleaner: Yes sir.

When someone tells you that they saw you taking a leak, you will feel very ashamed. But I have never felt more glad in my life. I wanted to turn back and say, "Ha. He saw me taking a leak." (and I wanted to do this ':P')

American: Can I see your id?

The cleaner shows him the id.  

American: You can go son.

Me: Thank you sir. I will try not to use any public toilets in your country.

I walk back to where my mother was sitting.

Mom: What took you so long?

Me: The guy over there thought I planted a bomb in the toilet amma.

Mom: What?

Me: Yeah I know. For a moment I thought I was going to go to prison, but the cleaner sent from heaven saved me.

Mom: Did you do something?

Me: Well I did use the public toilet to pee, which I am never going to do again in this country.

Mom: Hmmmm

Me: I love India amma. You can pee anywhere if its really urgent. People will understand. But in this country you cant even use the toilets that man has built to pee.

I was 13. 

Previous Post - Parents

Saturday, June 25, 2011


Diary Entry 10 

If you know my father personally, please make sure you read this before you read anything else.

When I went to Kerala this time, I met a distant relative of mine. 

Aunt: Eda, you look exactly like how you look in those facebook pictures you posted. I thought you must have gained some weight.

Me: Oh lol chechi, you know how it is in college. The food they serve us is not exactly ambrosia.

Aunt: Haha but still you have to eat da. You can eat outside.

Me: I can but not everyday. Too expensive. By the way, you told me you saw me in facebook. Did your daughter show you my pictures?

Aunt: No no. Ahvil onnum facebookle ennike kanikilla. (No. She wont show me anything in facebook.)

Me: Oh. How did you see it then.

Aunt: I log in to her account when she is not home da. You know, to check on her and to know what kind of people she is socializing with.


I was shocked. It was not because a mother was spying on her daughter, but because of something else.

Aunt: Endhu Pathe? (What happened?)

Me: Chechi when you were online in you daughters account, did you ever talk to me?

Aunt: Of course. Last time we spoke I asked you how your grandfathers health was, remember?

Her daughter has never met my grandfather. I should have known something was fishy when she sounded concerned about someone she has never met. I thought she was being polite.  

Me: Chechi, when I spoke to you thinking I am talking to your daughter, did I by any chance say anything I shouldnt have?

Aunt: Haha like what?

Me: eh chechi. You should know I completely respect you daughter. She is like a sister that I never had. I have told my mother many times that I wanted someone like your daughter as a sister.

Aunt: oh ho adhey yo? lol get to the point da...

Me: Eh. Did I by any chance, you know uh flirt with your daughter, eh I mean you?

Aunt: Haha you did flirt with me. But dont worry about it, I wont tell your parents. All her guy friends do that.

On the one hand she sounds like a really mature lady who is okay with guys flirting with her daughter (and her) and on the other hand she is spying on her own daughter. Man this lady confuses me.

Me: When you say all her guy friends do that, you mean that they flirt with you?

Aunt: Right. But of course they dont know its me. My daughter doesnt know that I use her account, and I hope she wont come to know in the future either.

Me: I wont tell her chechi, I promise.

(Who knows what inappropriate crap I have told her instead of her daughter).

Me: But why do you have to spy on her?

Aunt: Well you know how the Internet is. Bank account numbers get stolen, people killing themselves because of cyber bullying and stuff like that.

Someone has been reading way too much news paper. 

Me: I understand what you mean. Hackers can use facebook to get peoples credit card details. You are doing the right thing. I wish my parents were like you :P

This lady's daughter is a month older than me. She is doing medicine in a top university in India. I think she has the brains not to give away her bank details and to stay away from cyber bullying. Man I always thought that with her IQ level she can become president of MENSA and now I see someone smarter than her tricking her.

After I spoke to this woman, I realized that I have such mature parents. But ever since I started using the Internet I kept them in the dark about the things I do here. Internet is a lot more fun when your parents dont know what you have been upto.

But if I did show things like this blog for example to my father, he will love it. The next thing that he will do is tell all his friends and even some of that patients to go check it out. He makes a really big deal out of the smallest of things that I do. I once a wrote a speech about poverty. I sent it to him to see how it was. Everybody in Tambaram knew every line in my speech the next day. So when I tell you that I am never going to show this blog to him, you might ask me why I dont want all that free advertisement.

Its because my father is a complicated man. You can make fun of him and he will think its funny most of the time. But the times when he doesn't think its funny is not very pleasant. I for the most part stay away from making fun of him. But I wrote this post Travel Partner that so many of you liked reading. One of my friends who read that post told me that he had tears in his eyes after reading it. I thought he was a sympathizer of my plight. But it so turns out that he couldnt stop laughing. My father still thinks that incident was no big deal. He tells me its a valuable experience. The only experience I got was that of my mothers marriage. There is a very good chance that he might think that post was crude humor. So I am not taking the risk.

I told you in the beginning that if you knew my father that you have to read this very carefully. That is because some people try to impress my father for no reason at all. Konjam over ice they usually put. I can think of some fools who are going to read my blog and tell my father the following:

"Your sons blog is very funny. Especially the part where you two went to kerala together. How come you never told me about it?"

If you say this or anything like this, then you wont see me anywhere in the Internet after that.


Previous Post - Describing my ideal partner (in 45 sec)

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Describing my ideal partner (in 45 sec)

Diary Entry 9

You must be over 21 years old to read this post. If you are under 21 or do not wish to view humor only adults find funny then you must move on to the next post now. Mature audience only.  

In TOEFL there is a reading section, a Listening section, a Speaking section and a Writing section. I was told that the exam was so easy that people who don't even know the pattern get 100+/120. I havent got my scores yet. I do think I did well for most part of the exam, but I found only one question in the entire exam very very hard. It was the first question in the speaking section. A question about a familiar topic is presented to you and you have 15 sec to prepare and 45 sec to talk about it.

Describe an ideal partner. What qualities do you think are important for him or her? Use specific reasons and details to explain your choices.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta (26.8.1919-5.9.1997)...When I first heard the question. I was ecstatic. I mean, I think about chicks all the time :D. How hard is it going to be talking about the ideal one? If you are an Indian, and by Indian I don't mean the ultra modern one, you will think about a husband or wife when you hear the word partner. Probably because most women and eh some men in India want to save themselves for marriage and their spouse is the only partner they end up having in their lives. I decided I will talk about the topic in the most unindian way possible. That is, I decided to talk about the ideal girl friend instead of a wife. I was advised that in the speaking section it is best to have an image in the mind and to talk about the image and describe it. Did I have a image in the mind? Hell yeah. My ideal partner was something of a cross breed of Deepika Padukone and Pamela Anderson (the less endowed version). In my mind's eye she had the heart of Mother Theresa and the skills of T*ri B*a*k. (Please dont try to fill the stars if you are a girl) I had so much to say or so I thought.

When I took my pencil to write down something to talk about, I realized that my perverted spirit was running free. I had so many things that I wanted to say, but they were all perverse. Losing points for saying perverted things was not the last of my problems. There were 20 people in the same room who will hear every word that I will speak. This made me extremely self conscious. The girl next to me is what we call a 'pakka' iyer ponnu. To be a 'pakka' iyer girl it is not enough if you belong to the caste. You should also dress, look and walk the part. In short, they are the Indian version of Virgin Marys who hope to get pregnant without anything physical happening. The last thing I wanted was for this girl to look at me in shock and say, "You said the F word." So my choice of expression was limited by the people around me and the only thing I could come up with was that my ideal partner has to be hot and I wasn't entirely sure if I could say that either.

I did have other things to say. Like I wanted my girl to be employed and to be educated. But then I will be taking the Indian stand as I will be saying things that I wanted my wife to be. Even if I did take the Indian stand, it will take only 5 seconds to say everything I had to say and I have to speak for 45 seconds. The computer beeped signalling the end of my prep time and my notes paper had only one word written on it for me to talk about. The word was "hottie". Even god must have been biased in a level when he made men visual creatures and women verbal creatures.

I spoke for 40 seconds nonstop. I finally did take the Indian stance of describing the ideal spouse instead of the ideal girl friend. For the second part I ended up speaking about the girl who my grandmother would have thought was ideal for me. The compatible one who fits well with the family. I couldn't believe I came up with such crap. I said a lot of inappropriate things too. There was this place where I said I wanted my girl to have fire. What I meant was I wanted a industrious girl. But I guess the interpretation is left to the evaluator's imagination.

As soon as the computer beeped to signal the end speaking I was very relieved. Describing my ideal partner for 45 sec was the hardest thing I ever did. In GRE, if there was one thing that I needed no preparation, it was reading comp. I was so good at it. In TOEFL the level was even lower so I finished all the questions in record time and I finished the listening too in record time. I was the first person to start speaking and the first person to finish that section too. After the speaking section I started off with the writing. The guy sitting next to me just entered his speaking section and he got the exact same question I did. I know this because he started talking by saying my ideal partner is.... All the other questions were also same. I couldn't ignore him because he was talking so loud and I was trying to make up shit for my essay. But what shocked me was he was describing his ideal partner in the masculine. It was a relief actually because no matter how bad my description about the ideal partner was, there was always the chance for the evaluators to give me extra points for being straight. Then it occurred to me that he might have thought partner meant something like a friend or business partner.

Its been a week now and I am still wondering how my ideal partner should be. Frankly I will be okay with anybody as long as they love me. Still cant talk for 45 seconds though.

P.S - I like iyer girls (Just in case you thought the opposite). NO. FOR THE LAST TIME I AM NOT An IYER

My TOEFL score is 110 and you probably thought I will flunk :D (30/6/2011)

Previous Post -Travel Partner

Travel Partner

Diary Entry 8

I am so excited to go to Kerala. Its my cousins wedding. I have been looking forward to her wedding because it meant I will get to meet everybody in the family. It is my dads side of the family and he is my travel partner.

Act I

Act I Scene I

Dad: The train is 9:15 Pm. Allepy express. Have you packed?

Me: It will take only 15 mins to pack. I think mom has already packed for me.

Dad: Okay. Get ready. Car will come at 7 Pm.

Me: Okay Acha.

Act I Scene II

7:30 Pm

Me: Acha where are you I have been waiting for an hour. Where is the car?

Dad: The car is here in the clinic. I will be there in a couple of minutes.

7:45 Pm

Me: Acha I am freaking out here. Where are you? 

Dad: I am coming to pick you up.

Act I Scene III

8:00 Pm

My dad finally arrives. He gets down from his bikes and runs inside the house.

Me: Acha! Where are you going? We are going to miss the train.

Dad: Dont be neurotic like your mother. Wait.

Me: Where are you going?

Dad: Let me pack.

Me: WHAT!!!

Driver: Eppo pa train? (When is the train?)

Me: 9:15 anna. Po mudiyuma? (9:15. Can we reach there in time?)

Driver: Enna pa sollarey? Ticket nalla parru pa. (What are you saying? Check the ticket?)

Me: 9:15 dhane na. (Its at 9:15 only)

Driver: Va pa seekarama povome. (Come on lets go fast)

Me: Appavum vara re. (My dad is also coming)

Driver: Ahveriku wait panna poga mudiyadhy pa. (If you wait for him then we cannot reach the station)

My mother calls me in the cell.

Mom: Where are you?

Me: We have not started yet.

Mom: Dont you know about your father. Tell him to cancel the ticket and tell him to book a flight.

Me: I dont think he will listen to me.

Mom: You know the last time he went with your grandfather they came back home because they missed the train.

Me: Sheesh. Amma I will call you back if we reach there.

8:15 Pm

Me: Acha we can never reach the station on time. When I go with amma to catch the same train we go at 5:30 and we sometimes reach only an hour in advance.

Dad: You dont know how much time it will take because you have been going to the central station only with your mother. We have plenty of time. Driver konjam seekarama po pa. (Driver go fast)

Me: Acha lets stop in the bus stop and get a bus to Coimbatore and then we will take a bus from there to Cochin. Its the best thing we can do.

Dad: Dont be so negative.

Me: I am negative? You got to be kidding me. You know Acha, Its not me who missed the train with grandfather.

Dad: That was because there was a lot of traffic then. Besides your grandfather is very old. He was not able to run.

Me: I will have to run?

Dad: You might have to. Think of it as a good exercise.

Me: :| What a great time to do exercise. They must pay you a lot for being a doctor.

Act I Scene IV

9:08 Pm

We are still a kilometer away from the station and we are stuck in the signal. I have no idea how we even got there so fast.

Dad: Take your bags. We will reach there only if we run.

Me: Oh man. Okay.

We run and board the train. When we stepped into the train, it started moving.

                                   Act II

Act II Scene I

Me: Which is our seat Acha?

Dad: Lets ask the ticket checker.

Me: What? Why? Look at the ticket it will be there.

Dad: Its waiting list one & two kutta.

Me: Does that mean we have a seat to sit but no place to sleep?

Dad: Hold on let me go talk to the ticket checker.

Me: Okay

Mom calls.

Me: Amma we finally reached the train hahaha. I never thought it was possible.

Mom: Wow that's a miracle.

Me: It sure was.

Mom: Call me when you reach there okay. What's your seat number?

Me: I dont know amma. We are standing at the moment. Dad said it was waiting list number one & two. I think he has gone to ask the ticket checker where we can sit.


Me: Calm down mom. Its okay we will have a place to sit rite? I do that all the time in the bus. I dont mind if we cant lie down.

Mom: You dont mind sitting on the floor huh?

Me: What? No. We will sit on the seat they provide us.

Mom: They wont provide you with any seat. If they provided you a seat then its called RAC. You are not in RAC. You are in the WAITING LIST.

Me: SHIT!! okay amma. I will call you back.

Act II Scene II

My dad comes to me after talking to the ticket checker to find me filled with rage.

Me: Acha are you crazy? Who in the world will get into a train with a waiting list?

Dad: Our waiting list is one and two so I thought we will get it if we talk to the ticket checker.

Me: Well did you get it?

Dad: He said that if the ticket was booked through the internet, it will be illegal for him to provide the seat,  because the railways will refund the amount, if our name was not on the list.

Me: How the hell did this happen? Did I not tell you to book the ticket 6 months ago?

Dad: Well no point talking about that now.

Me: What do we do now?

Dad: We get down at the next station and take a open ticket to Coimbatore and then a bus from there to Cochin.

Me: Open Ticket? Does that mean we will have to go in unreserved?

Dad: Well we decided to go so lets just get there.

Me: If you knew this would have happened then why did you not listen to me when I told you lets take a bus to Coimbatore?

Dad: How am I supposed to know?

Me: What do you mean how are you supposed to know?

Dad: What kind of postmortem are you trying to do?

Me: (&@#$)

                                                                   Act III

Act III Scene I

We get down at the next station. It is in the middle of nowhere. No bus, no taxi nothing. I am mighty pissed. We go and get the ticket to travel in unreserved to Coimbatore. My dad realized that I will not put up with anymore bullshit or bad decisions, so he left everything to me.

Me: Lets take a ticket to Chennai and go to Coimbatore from a bus from there.

Dad: Why?

Me: Going in Unreservered is better than not going at all.

Dad: Okay

We go back to get another ticket and to cancel the one we already took. That is when the guy tells us the next train back to Chennai is at a 2am. 3 hours from now.

Dad: Instead of waiting, if we go in the unreserverd we will be half way through to Coimbatore.

Me: Have you ever been in a unresereved coach Acha? I have travelled in it and let me tell you that it is not like travelling in a luxury cruiser.

Dad: We will do what ever you want. We can go back if you want. I have no interest in going. We are going only because you wanted to go.

I felt really sorry for him. Maybe I have been too hard on the fella and maybe he deserved it but people make mistakes and some people dont learn no matter how many times they make the same mistake. But we always have to find some heart to forgive them right? So I decide to stop blaming my father for all the trouble and decide that it is upto me to find the most comfortable route to get to Cochin.

Me: Is there a way to get to Coimbatore from here?

Stranger: Well you can take a train from here.

Me: (We are in a railway station and I was hoping for the less obvious solution). We can travel only in unreserved and we dont want to travel to Coimbatore all the way from here in Unreserved. Is there some bus we can take from here?

Stranger: There is no bus from here even to Chennai which is only an hour away, leave alone to Coimbatore which is 7 hours away. You have to take a train back to Chennai and get a bus from there.

Me: What about stations in front? From which station will we get a bus to Coimbatore?

Stranger: Salem. Its 3 hours from here. You will have buses even at 2am in the morning.

I tell dad all about the new plan that the stranger had helped me draw up. The stranger was an angel sent from the heavens. This still meant we had to spend 3 hours in the unreserved compartment before we got into a more comfortable bus. But it was either that or waiting till 2 am to go back to Chennai. I felt that I should spare my father the guilt so I decided to put up with the torture in the UR compartment.

We reached salem at 2am. Got a bus to Coimbatore and from there to Cochin. We reached Cochin at 1pm. If we had travelled in the train that we were so desperate to catch earlier then we would have reached Cochin at 8am. It was not the shortest journey but we later got on to a 6 wheel Volvo A.C bus and it sure felt like a heaven when compared to the UR coach we travelled in before.

The day spent in Cochin made the entire ordeal worth it. The food, especially the karimeen (see picture) was heavenly apart from the other things that I cannot risk describing. But the best thing was the sense of belonging that family brought. The unreserved compartment was not that bad after all :)

This post is an entry for a contest by CupONation, an online retailer of discount coupons, and The Shooting Star travel blog

Previous Post - In the land of the Super Star

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

In the land of the Super Star

Diary Entry 7

If you take any place around the world, you will find two communities fighting with each other. The black people fight with the white, Muslims and Hindus, people in the same religion but different caste fight with each other, people from who speak different languages or from different states fight with each other and the list goes on and on. They are always fighting with each other because they believe in something very strongly to fight for it.

In South India there is a place called Chennai where people don't give a damn about which religion or caste or race you belong to. But that doesnt mean there is no fighting. However, the battles fought here are of a different kind. Even if you are a neutral observer, you will find yourself drawn into this war that has been going on for decades.

Let me tell you something about the city. No matter who you are or where you are from, the people here will accept you. But there are certain sure cut ways in which you can get rejected (maybe even killed). Crack a joke about Rajinikanth and you will be lucky if you don't get your ass whooped. There was a time when I used to forward messages in the phone. I got a message from a North Indian friend who lives in Chennai that Rajinikanth was dead and for further information watch the movie 16 Vayathinile. I being the jobless fool that I was then sent that message to everybody in my phone book. Some people who saw the two words Rajini and dead together got a minor heart attack. When they read the whole message their shock turned into anger and few people called me and said the meanest of things. Rajinikanth is like the Queen of England here. You never ever speak bad things about him.

But there is a war within the community that has been going on for a decade now. No matter how neutral you are, you find yourself drawn to it. It involves movies (which if you haven't realized by now tamil people take very seriously). In movies there are 3 people who make records which are impossible to beat. The first is Rajinikanth. The other 2 are Ajit and Vijay. Ajith and Vijay have set a impossible record of flops that nobody in the next century can beat. If you went for one of their movies with a "RATIONAL MIND", you will find yourself laughing during the fight scenes. If you don't find them funny you will get a migraine. If however you go to the movie without a rational mind, you will think those movies deserve an Oscar. They have been acting for decades now. Each actor has his own fan base. Each fan base hates the other with such an intensity that if you were ever between the two, you will think you are in between Israel and Palestine. You will totally hate the two actors from the core of your heart but you will get drafted to a side as if to fight the world war. This is how I got dragged into a fight once.

Guy 1: Who do you like the most macha. Ajith ah? Vijay ah?

Guy 2: Vijay dhane?

Me: Dai I hate both the fools.

Guy 1: You have to say who you like. Pick one.

Me: I dont like both of them da.

Guy 2: Vijay sollu machi.

Guy 1: Okay who do you hate more? Ajit ah? Vijay ah?

Me: Hmmm if you ask like that I guess I hate Vijay more.

Guy 1: Macha from now on you are ajit fan.

Guy 2: DROHI... (Traitor)

Me: What? How did I become a Ajit fan? I hate that guy.

Guy 1: Macha to be a Ajit Fan you should satisfy one of the 2 conditions. Either you have to be a Ajit Fan or you have to hate Vijay more than Ajit.

Me: What?

Guy 1: Your new god is Thala macha...

Me: Huh? Thala?

Guy 1: Amman machi. You are from now on a USA Fan.

Me: USA?

Guy 1: Ultimate Star Ajit.

Me: .....

Most people these days hope that these two actors dont start two separate political parties. Because if they ever did, we might have to divide the state.

Previous Post - The Chauvinist

The Chauvinist

Diary Entry 6

This post is not meant to hurt the sentiments of fellow women I have worked with in the past, it's a mere observation based purely on statistics... 

I have been part of a organizations and groups working collectively for a common cause. I am not going to name any of these organizations because naming them will be like naming the people I worked with. I had female team members working with me. I realized that working with women infuriated me beyond imagination (no matter how hot they looked). I am not talking about one event that happened in my life, but of several events that happened in the course of my life. No I am not a sexist. I don't have a bias against women. Why will I hate being around hot chicks? But women when working in a team show a utter lack of commitment. Things are either too hard for them to do or they have other important commitments or they don't have time to do it. Its understandable and you sort tend to fill in for them and do their jobs the first time. But once they realize that you will back them up, they will use you every time. The result is that you end up doing the things of two or three people instead of one. Was the mistake giving them the same responsibility as men? I am not saying that. But when I wonder what the problem is, when I like other men in the team end up having so much work load, I cannot come up with any other answer. This is especially infuriating when you are the leader of a group like a social service organization. You sort of tend to feel sorry for your female team mates and might think that maybe you are over working them when the truth remains that you are not working them at all.

The obvious solution you might suggest to this problem is refusing to do their work for them. But that's not a great idea because you will have deadlines to meet and when your team fails, no matter how much effort you put in you fail too. Well if you are a woman and you are reading this, you are going to say, "hey men do that too you know. There is no difference." Well there is a difference. When men slack off and give excuses for not doing their jobs, we tell them not to be a girl. For a man, being called a girl is very offensive. We don't hold ourselves back with men in the use of swear words either. But most gentlemen don't abuse women with swear words (sometimes because women don't know the meaning of those swear words especially if its in Tamil).

Women will defend themselves by calling people who say this as male chauvinist. According to them male chauvinism is the attitude of superiority that men have towards the opposite sex. Well the way I see it men have this attitude of superiority because men do all the work and end up filling in for women which makes them superior. So when I say I hate working with women, you might view it as a male chauvinistic remark. Feminist would say its because I am intimidated by productive women. But on the contrary, I have seen so many lousy women that when I see a lady who is productive, no matter how bad she looks, I will find her very hot. And why do I find her hot? Because such women are so rare that in my eyes they seem like exotic Persian beauties.

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Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Good, The Bad and The Cute

Brad Pitt @ Palm Film Festival Diary Entry 5

June 1 2002, It was my birthday and my dad took a couple of pictures to mark the occasion. Everybody in the family thought the pictures came out well and so I decide to upload them in the internet. I never thought I looked good so this was a big step for me.

Girl: Is that you Abhi?
Me: Yeah. Do I look bad?
Girl: You look soooo cute.

Me: Gee thanks. :D

I was ecstatic. I mean how many people in the world are called cute. I felt special. Guys always try to interpret what the girl actually means when she says this and that. Back in 7th grade we were no different. After a long and constructive discussion with my friends I learnt that being called cute is not something you should be proud of. They explained to me, the various adjectives used by both sexes. This is the wisdom we had as 7th graders.

Handsome/Beautiful - Well this is the best adjective a person can use to compliment you. If you are called this, then it means that the girl or guy has every chance of falling in love with you. You cant be called anything better. If they cant take their eyes of your face then you are here. But if you belong here it might not necessarily be because you look good. It might be the way you carry yourself or your intelligence or something of that sort. So don’t go wanting to be a super model just because a bunch of people say you are beautiful (True Story - I was once flirting with this chick and I told her that she looks beautiful. I had her so convinced that she asked me if she should try modeling. Sheesh never calling people without a brain beautiful again)

Pretty- You can think of modeling if people say you are pretty. It has more to do with your looks and nothing to do with your character, brains or the other things that a person should be valued for. But then again most  women dont care about anything other than how they look. All the extra makeup and hairstyles is going to give you a few pretty points.
Hot - This has more to do with the choice of clothes. So when they (men) say you are hot what they actually mean is that your choice of clothing provokes thoughts in a mans mind. Some women are offended because of this but hey they have only themselves to blame because we did not ask them to dress like J lo or Shakira. Then again not all women can look hot contrary to the accepted notion that if you dress in a way, you are hot no matter who you are.

Sexy  - This is something like hot except that it has nothing to do with the clothes you are wearing. No matter how they dress they are going to make even a saint behave lewd. Well this is the blessed category that men wish women would classify them in and women wish men don’t classify them in. If you are in this category people cant take their eyes of you. 

Cute - Sigh. This is one thing you don’t want to be called. If guys calls other guys cute its gay. If guys call girls cute then it means the girl is something like a little kid or baby sister. Its not a good thing. Because if you are trying to impress the guy and if the guy thinks you are cute then its over. However what girls mean when they call guys cute is still a matter of question. But it cant be good. 

The incredible 7th grader's wisdom was not enough to completely understand the term cute. All we knew was that its something offensive. It’s a kind of racism. That is why when a girl told me I am cute I tried to insult her back by saying that she looks cute too. You will expect her to be offended but no she blushes and says thanks. How the hell do you get back at people who feel complimented when you try to insult them?

So I went and spoke to a girl to end the mystery once and for all. What do you mean when you call someone hot, handsome and cute, I asked. She told me that hot is when they have a good physique like John Abraham. It can also mean someone like Brad Pitt who doesn’t have much of a body but you still want him. Handsome is the elusive guy that all women want. He is looks good, he is charming, he is smart and he probably is rich too. Then I asked her if I could ever be handsome. She said not in another 7 lifetimes because I am way too cute. Pissed off I ask her what she meant by cute. And she says that its like a teddy bear. A small puppy. Something you want to cuddle and play with.

This explanation only confused me more. The girl I called cute blushed and thanked me as if I complimented her. All I did was say she looked like a teddy bear or maybe worse - a small puppy. When men genuinely compliment women by saying they look hot or sexy they get offended. But when they try to offend them they are strangely complimented. No wonder men have such a hard time figuring out women.

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