The reason I did not do a women’s day post
I got countless messages and mails on Women’s Day. Somehow they did not move me ……
One of the most infamous lines of Tulsidas were
Dhol,gawar,sudra,pashu, nari sakal tadana ke adhikari
A drum, a village idiot, an animal and a woman, all need to be beaten ….. have the right to expect being beaten ….
Times have changed. Apart from the drum (unless its the electronic sort) none of the others need to be beaten. However the other alternative is also a stick …. in the form of a crutch. That is what reservations are, these stuff like “Ladies first” and the oh so patronizing platitudes about the gentler sex are.
I dont agree with them. I dont believe we women are lesser than men, or on contrary, better than men …, or less corrupt or less blood thirsty. We are just different.
Once as a child, I heard one of the ladies who belonged to my mother’s kitty and card parties defend her decision to enroll and keep her handicapped child in a school meant for normal children
“If I put him in a school meant for handicapped people, I will cripple him from day one. He will only learn to beg and then demand special concessions.”
No, she did not think that she was being a bad mother, she insisted that it was good for him …. and it was! The boy (Nirmal remember those days?) learnt to play cricket, wield a hockey stick and also to study with normal kids. He is blind from one eye, had a club foot, could not write with his right hand but so what? What he learnt was that he was no less than the other kids. So what if he could not make it in the team, he was equal to other kids and that made him a winner! Today he is in the IAS and doing well for himself.
My BFF (best female friend) is the scholarly idealistic type. She is out to save the world …. hmmmm just realized that may be ~ just maybe ~ I am one of her countless missions … I need to call her up for clarification. Sorry for the digression – I type the way I think
Anyhow ~ she insists that Women’s Day is important for a lot of women in really bad circumstances. I cant see that! Women’s Day or Reservation of any sort is a label. It cripples us mentally. Just read what IHM says in her blog about her maid . The maid she talks about has more empowerment in her little finger than a whole lot of the Main bechari abala naari types – born to more affluent circumstances and having more education have in their entire persons.
I think we should have a Liberation and Empowerment Day for humans. A day to remind men that they do not need to save the world and bring in the bacon and look macho. For men to understand that its okay, they do not need to hide the fact that they also find the world hard, cruel and overwhelming. For them to be okay with crying or being soft, and not have others point fingers and say “Dude that is so G A Y Y Y !!”
We, as women, need that so much! When guys unbend, they will stop freaking out and trying to control us or shove us back into the restrictive moulds, in anger, in fear and with force and violence. The mould is outdated and one that many women have already broken and crawled out of – some in anger, some in desperation and so many of us in pain and for our very survival.
Women have evolved, we have changed a lot, in spite of Ekta Kapoor and our mothers/mother in laws. Those that are stuck in the restrictive mould are drawing inspiration from others that have grown out of it.
What we need is a Liberation and Empowerment Day for both sexes. We need our men, they need us. We need a joint day and together we need to learn the lesson that I found in IHM’s blog
The lady in question may be a maid by profession – but to me she is a sage! She is truly empowered and we – no not as men or as women, but as humans and thinking beings – have a lot to learn from her.
Its all about the mind, the attitude and not about being a woman or a man. I think the “abala naari” bit is overdone, and I think the “man as superior sex” is overdone too. It imposes role models and burdens that are quite unnnecessary. True empowerment would do away with labels and help us meet at the same platform as equals – different but equal.
This is a call for true equality here. Wish we get it – in my lifetime.
My daughter's stricken eyes haunt me
Its been thirty years since that horrible night. My husband brought a few friends for a party, to share booze, dinner and later on – his wife. They beat me up and tied my hands up with my own sari. One of them held my legs to prevent me from kicking while the other took his turn on me.
I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth and looked at my five year old daughter, standing still and shocked holding her younger brother’s hand. They looked death like. My eyes met hers even as I was being penetrated and I whispered in despair
“Misha help!!!!”
Her stricken eyes looked at me. Then she pulled her little brother and they both fled. The door slammed shut. I felt abandoned.
We did not come from the lower classes. He was educated, well travelled and sophisticated. I come from a equally wealthy background. But this perversion – a fetish for treating women as objects……
After they had had their fill, they left, no doubt to search for more sport. More Saturday night rapes?
I dragged my bruised body into my room and bed. Surrounded by luxury, violated by my need for it.
Her eyes haunted me, it was as though she were screaming silently into my head : “Mama, get your act together. We need you to protect us.”
I hated her and the way she made me feel inadequate. I hated her for abandoning me. It took many years of therapy to figure out that Misha did only what she could do in the situation – protect her younger brother and herself when the adults could not.
Those eyes made me act. They made me seek help, made me get out of the rut. I still can not look her in the face. I still can not admit it to myself … can not bring myself to thank her.
My daughter’s stricken eyes haunt me ….
I tag the following
The Classic Diwali Syndrome
(I think this describes the situation in most households around Diwali/Pooja/Christmas etc. ….)
Early morning Lady of the House picks up the newspaper, discards everything apart from the pages advertising Sales, Schemes etc etc and either gets on the phone with her friends or starts planning the route to be taken with her sister/daughter etc.
Man of the house comes into the room, blearily picks up the remainder of the newspaper and his tea and tries to join in the conversation ….
M.O.H. : So what are you planning to buy today?
L.O.H. : Just some diwali things, you know, candles and toran …
M.O.H. : (Trying to be helpful) I’ll ring up Rakesh Seth and he will send them over
L.O.H. : Looking balefully : Naah, I promised (insert saheli’s name) that we would go together.
M.O.H. : Oh I see
L.O.H. : In a tone as sweet as honey : You dont mind do you? I packed your lunch, and we will order something in the night if I am late
M.O.H. : Knowing not to open his mouth to wonder why candles and toran will take the whole day : Its okay dear ……
Its the time women rule. We shop, we bargain, we hunt for deals, and fall prey to all the buy this and get that cheaper schemes
I’ve also noticed one thing …
If we live in North Delhi – we want stuff from South Delhi or Noida or Gurgaon
Somehow the malls and the deals on the other side of town seem so much more alluring.
I love to shop at Gurgaon or Delhi – I think the petrol I burn adds to the fun of shopping
Noida will do too – but definite not my town
Even though in these days of Malls, everything is available in each and every mall, all the brands, all the schemes.
Dont ask a female to explain. It is just the way it is
Then we come back home laden with goods. We go with lists of course, and come back with everything not on the dratted list.
In the evening the men of the house dutifully help us unload the packages from the car, while we come home happy and tired after blowing up far more money than we ought to, happy to share all the details of the fantastic deals and the money we saved on our spree
M.O.H. : Oh did you get the candles and toran
W.O.H. : (Without batting an eyelid!) Naaah, we’re going for that tommorow ….
HAPPY DIWALI
English Literature in Indian context
I always wondered how root beer tasted and what pot roast was when I read Enid Blyton as a kid ….
I also wondered how people could live in the countryside and have electricity, functioning shops and their kids could take pangas with local cops like Mr. Goon …. cant imagine this in the Indian context.
I could not imagine kids running some sort of secret society without mothers butting in and effin the hell out of this bid for independance ….
My friend, a writer called Dr. Jayshri Kannan has put it wonderfully, in a speech she delivered at the British Council recently. I had to put it on my blog, hope you dont mind Jay …
Studying English literature in an Indian context
I have not written anything populist for a long time. But why talk to a congregation of Educators about Education? So I make an exception here. Hmmm do I hear sighs of relief? I too need to do something different fellow educators.
I grew up studying British and American children’s books at the Delhi Pubic Library. The characters had names like Tom, Elizabeth, Lucy and John. They drank ginger beer, they ate sandwiches and cakes, their hair was golden and eyes blue.
I pursued my studies in Literature at the University. I studied more of Tom’s , Elizabeth’s, Lucy’s and John’s who drank more ginger beer or root beer now( what they tasted like, I had no clue but beer the forbidden word in usage was exciting enough), ate more sandwiches and cakes, and had shiny golden hair and transparent blue eyes.
It never occurred to me that people like me who were breaking norms and paving some life in their own terms in India could also be part of literature. Stereotypes were carved in my mind.
But Indian writing got bolder. No one cared about the – oh – so Englishie – English. They wrote about life around them. Sopna, Seema, Rajneesh and Asano who ate mishti Dohi, idli, parathas or rice and had black eyes and black hair. These I recognized. Thus began my gradual mental shift.
The American and British books I read were wonderful. They opened up a new world for me. A world that was so fascinating! But they had inadvertently told me that the real people around me couldn’t be a part of this literature.
I come from a conservative middle class background. We went to visit our Grandparents in the countryside during school vacations. During these vacations we visited many families. We were told they were poor people and we were clearly told not to flaunt our urban ways in front of them. But these so- called poor people offered us milk in huge jugs and lived in lush green farms!
I am equally guilty of forming stereotypes in my mind’s eye. It had not occurred to me what was luxury in the city was of common use in the countryside. It had become impossible for me to think beyond my visions of poverty. I went to them with a well meaning, patronizing pity. I had felt sorry for them even before I met them. I had a stereotyped image of the poor.
I am guilty more than once, guilty and ashamed when my microscopic vision comes alive! When my husband got posted to a place in the north eastern part of India, I began touring these places. I had an impression that the people there were drug addicts and irresponsible drunkards. On my first day in the North East (I mean Nagaland in particular), I saw people laughing, meeting each other, shopping , just the way we lived in other parts of the country. Initially I was a bit surprised and then I was overwhelmed with shame. I realized I had been bought over by the images commonly created, images that showed people as one thing over and over again. I came with the sure shot faith that there was no possible connection with them as human equals and returned home with some, who I can say are my best friends now.
I must quickly add that I too have been judged by stereotypes. In North India, Madrasis are supposed to be Intelligent and good in Maths. Unfortunately to the disappointment of my North Indian friends I regularly failed in Maths and sported a skewed look which far from showcased me as intelligent. To the culturally conscious South Indian I was generally a creature from outer space. They couldn’t strip off the popular images and connect with me as a human mind.
When the North Indian looked for South Indian sensibilities in me I wondered:
What if they knew of my journalist friend Arun in Chennai who dares to live with the Dalits?
What if they knew of my friend Lakshmy who tried every progressive method possible, to gain some recognition within her household?
What if they saw meaningful South Indian cinema and the not so meaningful cinema working in their own innovative ways?
What if they knew of my dear poet friend Kanimozhi, who dares to question establishment besides being a part of the political set up?
What if they knew of all my friends staying in south India who pray together and open champagnes together-despite the fact that alcohol is an unutterable word among Indian Hindus and Muslims?
What if they knew of the caste, creed and religious barriers writers like Vairamuthu break just to be honest?
What if they knew of Kuttirevathi, Sukirtharani and Malathy Maitri talking of sex in the same breath as food attempting to expand the subversive creative spaces available to women writers?
Because
For every journalist like Arun in the south there is a Peter Hodge in Australia or a Deepak Bharti.
For every Vairamuthu in Kollywood there is a Javed Saab in Bollywood
For every Kanimozhi there is a Medha patkar who vociferously fights the establishment
Didn’t they know of children tolerating and paving his path despite poor academic support everywhere?
Didn’t they know everywhere they remixed Bob Marley, Abba and Gun and Roses to popular taste?
Didn’t they know both places had committed NGO’s resiliently working for a cause?
Didn’t both poles of the country have those bunches of kids who loved pizzazz, pastas, sushi, as much as they loved their home cuisine?
I often wondered if my south Indian community would accept me more easily:
if there had been a television network in each of the Indian villages to telecast its ever changing ruralism?
OR if they knew about my beautician’s cleaner who collects the hair cut in the Salon and runs a booming business of hair extensions?
OR if they knew of that Business man in Delhi who fights every hurdle created by the political structure – sometimes have failed but managed to rise and remain afloat despite odds?
All of them are real India. And yet no one single image is India.
Stereotypes never tell these stories. Stereotypes are not always untrue but surely they are incomplete perceptions. They emphasize differences and not similarities.
I never thought of myself as an Indian or a south Indian or a north Indian till someone pointed it out to me
I conduct writing workshops every summer and am always surprised at how many people are keen on attending them. The only thing I make sure is they take back with them the ability to break and question stereotypes. Start the story of Environmental degradation with an I, you have an evolving view point; start the story of corruption with your experience you will have a more humane writing evolve.
I was charmed and touched to the point of tears when one old lady recognized me as the Jayshri Kannan ,the author of her daughter’s English Text.She took me aside and said ,” M’aam you are very daring. You must write more such books. But I don’t like the fact that you write only one book a year. Write more and write about this. .” She gave a me along curriculum plan! I was really charmed. This old lady not only had read my book; she also took ownership of my next book! This is was a North Indian old women .North Indians are said to be less inclined to reading.
One of the stereotypes is that India is a land of two races – the lighter- skinned Aryans and the darker-skinned Dravidians -
David Frawley in his impartially written essay on Aryan Dravidian divide says:’ The British ruled India, as they did other lands, by a divide-and-conquer strategy. They promoted religious, ethnic and cultural divisions among their colonies to keep them under control. Unfortunately some of these policies also entered into the intellectual realm. The same simplistic and divisive ideas that were used for interpreting the culture and history of India. Regrettably many Hindus have come to believe these ideas, even though a deeper examination reveals they may have no real objective or scientific basis
This stereotyped image of India I think comes from western Literature. Mark Twain in one of his famous speeches says:
In religion, India is the only millionaire – the One land that all men desire to see, and having seen once, by even a glimpse, would not give that glimpse for all the shows of all the rest of the globe combined Mark Twain quotes American Humorist, Writer and Lecturer. 1835-1910.
So power plays a major role in creating these stereotypes. How powerfully is it said? By whom? What is the economic and social power of their countries? How many times is it said? All this matters. Yes Power matters.
Things said in the colonial rule, Indian writers took years to demystify.
My American student recently told me, my ways were not authentically Indian. I am willing to contend that I had failed many a times and agree I have a number of oddities but the fact is I didn’t know who an authentic Indian was?
I was so much like my friends all over the world .I wasn’t starving, I questioned and I did not worship sadhus .I didn’t fit the single story .They had stereotypes drawn out. India to them was one entity, a land of sadhus, poverty and prejudiced citizens, beautiful landscapes, incomprehensible people, people unable to speak for themselves- waiting for a kind white person to save them from impending disaster.
But I never had such preconceived notions about America. Not because I am in anyway superior to my student but because a variety of American writing was at my disposal. I had read Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Hawthorne, Walt Whitman, Melville, Hemingway, Saul Bellow and Toni Morison. I didn’t have one stereotyped image of America.
If I too hadn’t grown up in India I too would see India as is seen through popular ideas. These images alienate continents, alienate cultures. To those who read that, “one single story” and form opinions about countries and people, there is no possibility of other people, being similar to themselves in anyway. I borrow the term ONE SINGLE STORY from Chimamanda Adiche, a Nigerian storyteller who in her extremely well articulated talk on the danger of a single story says,”how impressionable and vulnerable we are in the face of a story particularly as children,”
I would like to conclude with her punch line, “when we realize that there never was a single story about any place, we regain a paradise.”
How to be a gracious bitch
I got this as an email forward and I absolutely wanna be like this lady!
I am sure every woman who reads it would admire her for this
HOW TO BE A GRACIOUS BITCH
Jennifer’s wedding day was fast approaching. Nothing could dampen her excitement — not even her parent’s nasty divorce.
Her mother had found the PERFECT dress to wear and would be the best-dressed mother-of-the-bride ever!
A week later, Jennifer was horrified to learn that her father’s new young wife had bought the exact same dress as he mother!
Jennifer asked her father’s new young wife to exchange it, but she refused. ‘Absolutely not. I look like a million bucks in this dress, and I’m wearing it,’ she replied.
Jennifer told her mother who graciously said, ‘Never mind sweetheart. I’ll get another dress. After all, it’s your special day.’
A few days later, they went shopping and did find another gorgeous dress. When they stopped for lunch, Jennifer asked her
mother, ‘Aren’t you going to return the other dress? You really don’t have another occasion where you could wear it.
Her mother just smiled and replied, ‘Of course I do, dear. I’m wearing it to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.’
NOW I ASK YOU – IS THERE A WOMAN OUT THERE, ANYWHERE, WHO WOULDN’T ENJOY THIS STORY?
And if I were a man!
Indyeah gave me rave reviews on her blog! Thanks girl!!!!
And she tagged me to think like a man; and compile a wishlist of the lovely ladies I would eye lustfully lovingly.
Well I know how men think! I have two sons who are frank and think I am buddy. They say anything in front of me!
So for all intents and purposes for this blog post I am a man!
Sigh! So many ladies I would love to get intimate with!
*Scratch my ahem … butt and settle down to list em*
And here’s my wishlist, compliled ever so lustfully
What can I say? Never did understand size zero obsessions! A guy does like his hands full. Them tits are awesome! Drew Barrymore really fits the bill.
Angelina Jolie
Those lips were made for kissing! Plus she is athletic. A guy would love a romp in the hay which is dirty, passionate and athletic! Angelina would be the perfect choice.
Preity Zinta
Just look at that balcony! She is a busty girl, and that is soo nice. Cleavages on girls is an emminently desirable thing. Plus Mommys dont object to nice girls with dimples. Best of both worlds what?!!!
Kiera Knightley
Just picture the girl on a rope, just picture the rope in a bed room, just picture the swinging night ….. I think you get the picture! ;)
Catherine Zeta Jones
What can I say? Latino, sexy, hot!!!!
Jessica Biel
This is one drop dead gorgeous babe, one would love to love and never ever get into a fight with – that is – if you did not want to be punched in the …..
Hard core fighter, in your face, hot!
Scarlett Johansson
She has oomph! Athletic, most definitely has the stamina of an ox!!! So she goes on the lust list
Penelope Cruise
She is sensual, sultry ….. and Oooooh! She can cook! Unbeatable combo
Anne Hathaway
She makes it into the list because she has kissable lips. So does Angelina Jolie. Heyyyy wait a minute, so does Preity and …… Oh forget it – whateva!
Saved the best for the last
Michelle Rodrigues
The bad girl a guy would like to do bad things with!! She can kick ass, she can play fast, she can be downright dirty. In short she can drive a man insane!
Phew!!!
Done the tag !
Hope my sons dont read this post!
Victim Mentality
Indian Home Maker posted a blog post on a conversation she heard at a beauty parlour. The ladies were talking about a man beating up his pregnant wife while the wife’s brother stood out in the balcony.
It really disturbed me. No not because the man was behaving like a beast and a coward, and the brother opted out of the fight and stood outside – which means he kind of condoned the behaviour. It is cheap I agree – but is there all there is to it?
It points at a deeper malaise in the entire scenario.
It points at society sanctioned violence
It points at women being conditioned to accept this violence
It also shows that women are not respecting theselves and being confident or desperate enough to walk out of this situation.
It disturbs me because I was there some years ago. When relationships break up, it leads to hatred, and it degenerates into violence, it I can understand how helpless the woman who is carrying the child from that relationship must be feeling.
People will stand by. They will want you to compromise, so that all is right with their world, and you dont destroy their pretty picture of a perfect happy family. People will even bully you so that you stay put in that violent atmosphere, and they can keep sympathising with you and let it continue.
I think it is up to the woman to make a decision. I have a friend who is in one such relationship. She is a PhD and lives in a small town where every one knows her and her husband. He locks her up and goes out to work. He sets her children to spy on her. Now the kids tell tales on her to her husband, and watch her getting beaten up. It is how they have been brought up.
She did not respect herself …. she did not value her own worth, and now she lives among her own people who have become the enemy. She did not walk out when she could have taken the kids and moulded them to be better.
Now she does not know any better, neither do her three children. This is the home they have built. Its ugly and sick.
She rings up often asking for sympathy.
Strangely (and I am sorry but not ashamed to say this) I do not have any sympathy for her.
Even God helps those who help themselves.
I am just a flawed human being.
Maxine for World President
Dontcha just love her?
Like A.R. Rehman she never goes stale …….
1.My husband and I divorced over religious differences. He thought he was God and I didn’t.
2.I don’t suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
3..Some people are alive only because it’s illegal to kill them.
4. I used to have a handle on life, but it broke.
5.. Don’t take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.
6.. You’re just jealous because the voices only talk to me.
7.. Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder.
8.. Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.
9.. I’m not a complete idiot — Some parts are just missing.
10..Out of my mind. Back in five minutes.
11.. NyQuil, the stuffy, sneezy, why-the-heck-is-the-room-spinning medicine.
12.. God must love stupid people; He made so many.
13.. The gene pool could use a little chlorine.
14..Consciousness: That annoying time between naps.
15.. Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
16..Being ‘over the hill’ is much better than being under it!
17. Wrinkled Was Not One of the Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew up
18.. Procrastinate Now!
19.. I Have a Degree in Liberal Arts; Do You Want Fries With That?
20.. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
21.. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
22.. Stupidity is not a handicap. Park elsewhere!
23..They call it PMS because Mad Cow Disease was already taken.
24. He who dies with the most toys is nonetheless DEAD.
26.. Ham and eggs…A day’s work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.
27..The trouble with life is there’s no background music.
28..The original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.
29.. I smile because I don’t know what the hell is going on.
and of course the 30th
Sometimes I think Maxine should run for president. She was right on with this one!
Everyone concentrates on the problems we’re having in this country lately:
illegal immigration, hurricane recovery, alligators attacking people in Florida …
Not me. I concentrate on solutions for the problems. It’s a win-win situation.
+ Dig a moat the length of the Mexican border.
+ Send the dirt to New Orleans to raise the level of the levies.
+ Put the Florida alligators in the moat along the Mexican border.
Any other problems you would like for me to solve today ? Yes ?
Think about this one:
1. Cows
2. The Constitution
3. The Ten Commandments
C O W S
Is it just me, or does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow
born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the state of Washington?
And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country.
Maybe we should give each of them a cow.
T H E C O N S T I T U T I O N
They keep talking about drafting a Constitution for Iraq …. Why don’t we just give them ours?
It was written by a lot of really smart guys, it has worked for over 200 years, and we’re not using it anymore.
T H E 1 0 C O M M A N D M E N T S
The real reason that we can’t have the Ten Commandments posted in a courthouse is this:
You cannot post ‘Thou Shalt Not Steal,’ ‘Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery,’ and ‘Thou Shall Not Lie’ in a building full of lawyers, judges and politicians… It creates a hostile work environment. (Loved this one … 
)
The things we do for love
1. Eat burnt toast with a smile
2. Eat the half eaten biscuit that your infant kid lovingly feeds you happily
3. Wake up in the middle of the night to rock the infant to sleep or tend the loved one.
4. Eat artery choking food served by over-hospitable people with a smile while cringing inside and reminding oneself that it is hospitality, not hostility.
5. Tolerate the plunking of guitar strings all the goddamn time, even at 2 a.m., and even pay for the damn guitar lessons just because offspring has musical aspirations.
6. Go attend parties hosted by those people just because husband finds them interesting.
7. Assure the husband that he is not balding, just having a bad hair day
8. Assure the wife that she is not putting on weight on her butt, its just the color/cut of the dress she is wearing that makes her look fat.
9. Convince her that you did not notice the old school mate who still looked hot while she is pleasantly rounded due to having kids etc.
10. Walk all the floors of the mall along with spouse searching for the dress and the shoes that will make or break her/his all important appearance.
11. Look lovingly impressed when your tone deaf spouse sings you a love ode
12. Take second helpings of some horrible meal cooked by your spouse because he/she made the effort though every fibre of your digestive track revolts.
What are the things you have done for love?
Post Poll Blues
I was involved in two elections ….. and I did not get to vote or participate in any! Needless to say I am bummed! I do not like spectator sports, which is my chief grouse against blue flicks. The other is that the calisthenics performed by the lead couple gives me a distinct feeling of inadequacy and who needs that! I definitely do not need that kind of competition. But I digress …..
The first poll was the Indusladies competition I took charge of. It was quite an education. Like they say : Usme emotion tha, drama tha, action tha, booth capturing tha, fraud voting tha, aur to aur, Usme Ma bhi thee! Well it was a Mother’s Day competition, so it had to have mothers …. The only thing it did not have was a fight sequence – even though at times I was spoiling for a fight. The ladies were very civilized. Khair …..
Any how, the deserving candidates did win and I managed to ensure that it was fair. It was fun while it lasted, even though as a moderator I did not get to participate or vote.
Then came the desh ka election. With my name missing from the voters list, I could not vote but it was fun watching TV and listening to all the citizens of the country investing enormously on sound bytes and very little on physical presence at polling booths. I swear, we are absolutely intoxicated with the sound of our own voices. And we have opinions, even though we wont budge an inch or make an effort to make them real! All in all its fun and I do so love a tamasha.
Now its over, BJP is sulking, Behn Mayawati is on the warpath sacking her party people and the Left got left behind. Khel Khatam ho gaya boss. IPL is the only entertaining thing left. Sigh! I need a life, I need a man in my life to fight with and blame for all the miseries and boredom in life.
The conversation would be something like this
Me : Lets do something, lets go out somewhere
He : Okay, shall we go out to the mall?
Me : Nah! It’s gonna make me spend money unnecessarily. I dont need the stuff I’ll buy
He : Okay, shall we go out to eat?
Me : (offended) If you dont like my cooking just say so ….
He : Honey I love your cooking, but you wanted to go out (said in a WTF tone)
Me : Oh ohkay. I am bored let’s do something
He : I know, lets go visit friends. I’ll ring up jhgttuy
Me : B o r i n g. I dont wanna visit friends.
He : (warily) Okay, what do you want to do?
Me : (miffed) I got to decide this also? I want you to decide
He : gjhgjhiyiuuyopuouoipui
Me : Sulkily : No one understands me, no one wants to take me out, I am bored, bored bored …. You never do anything fun. We are such a boring couple. There’s nothing fun to do!~
Working myself up into a fine state of emotional uproar
Sounds of the door slamming and the car starting
The man has left the building …….
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