The (Bad) Times of India and the Final Solution

Population Control: The Final Solution

The Indian male is like a global average of all men of all races, ethnicities, regions or any other parameter you can think of. The average Indian male is brown, average height, average intelligence, average build, and also unfortunately average well you know :-T which is why a lot of them are from time to time, can get a little insecure. In the movies (especially the South Indian ones), it’s relatively easy for the hero. He can just kill a hundred people or control an angry bull with his bare hands (or both at the same time depending on the script) and the heroine half his age will fall for his rugged “manliness” and bushy moustache!

But the average HIM (Horny Indian Male) in Shivpuri district, Madhya Pradesh doesn’t have the luxuries of a South Indian film star. So as a symbol of manhood he fathers children, lots of them. Shivpuri district has about 5.1 children per couple, probably the highest in India! The bureaucrats there, who were supposed to keep the population explosion in check, were having a hard time educating HIM about the inconvenience of having too many kids around. And just when they thought they were losing the battle, they have come up with a brilliant solution.

I may have accused the bureaucrats of being problem solvers of the worst kind in the recent past but this time, no sarcasm intended, they have done a really good job. What they have done is that they are offering firearms permits in exchange for vasectomy surgery. In other words, the government is giving guns as a symbol of masculinity to insecure men with average size things if they choose to become sterile! Can you think of a better population control strategy? Pure brilliance!

Don’t believe me? See for yourselves: http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/asia/article3593874.ece

The (Bad) Times of India

Remember when I wrote that the Times of India does not want us to read the news? As a next step to prevent us from reading the news, The Times of India has stopped reporting the news. I recently chanced upon an article that sprawled across half a page. If it is half a page, I thought it must be important news. I realized how naïve I was because the article was about Adnan Sami’s dogs.

Apparently, Adnan Sami got married for the third time and has been in Germany with his wife for the last couple of months. His poor dogs have been missing him and have been barking a lot lately. So the pissed off neighbors tipped off TOI journalist Vicky Lalwani, one of India’s best EJs (epic journalist) about the situation and soon he was on his investigation trail looking for clues.

EJ Vicky interrogated the watchman of the building first. The watchman was a tough nut to crack; he wouldn’t give away anything except for a series of blank stares. But EJ Vicky at his usual vicious best grilled him for half an hour and the watchman finally broke down and confessed, “It would be best if you speak to his servant Ram — he has been with Adnan for a long time”

Wasting no time waiting for the elevator, Vicky ran up dozens of flights of stairs and soon confronted Ram. This time he meant business -

Not convinced with the web of lies and ugly cover-ups everyone has been making, EJ Vicky smelled something fishy out there. To set things straight, he called Adnan’s close friend who, for the sake of convenience, "shall not be named". The friend-who-shall-not-be-named probably told EJ Vicky to go get a life. So Vicky concludes that Adnan might actually be in Pakistan spending time with his family and now hopes that he would return soon for the sake of the canines.

The funniest thing about the whole article was that I did not even have to exaggerate anything! People who read Times of India deserve this shit --> http://bit.ly/do5Cuc

P.S: This article is dedicated to all those brave and courageous people like EJ Vicky who are the fourth pillar of democracy working night and day often keeping their lives on the line so that “we, the people” can know the answers to questions of national importance like “Why do dogs bark?” in the comfort of our homes every morning.

@Indibloggers: Promote the post on IndiVine here --> http://www.indiblogger.in/indipost.php?post=24280

It's not Che, its Cliché

“What’s in a name?” said Shakespeare, “That which we call a rose; by any other name would smell as sweet." – This has to be the most annoying cliché EVER! Everyone from editorial columnists to noob bloggers use it. I wonder why? Are they trying to prove that they are well versed with Shakespeare? Do they really think that we’d fall for such a lame quote? Here are some more clichés that really piss me off.
 
The suffix-gate scandal: Why is the Indian media trying to ape the American media? First they are naming cyclones and then they add a –gate suffix to every silly scandal! Don’t they know that the average American is considered dumb? It has been almost 35 years since Watergate scandal. The American media has moved on and we’re still giving names like Slap-gate, IPL-gate, Tweet-gate… like losers. Media people, I hate you enough already; don’t insult my intelligence. 

Think outside the box: if I get to choose one phrase that I do not have to hear again, it’d be “Thinking outside the box”. “Think outside the box” is so cliché that it is now inside the box! The box has grown bigger and it has swallowed the phrase.

Isn’t it ironical that a phrase that was invented to motivate people to think beyond clichés is now a cliché? That brings me to irony. I bet half the people I am acquainted with don’t know what irony exactly means. So learn it, and do me a favor –don’t use it.

F***: I hate it when people conceal words with stars and write them as f***. Who are they trying to protect by using all those **** and @#%^? Even a twelve year old knows what f*** means. Are they trying to look polished or something? If they really want to protect the kids from the bad words, why give away the 'F'? Just print four stars and keep them guessing. However, if you insist on using it, use it like a man!

At the end of the day: This is one my all-time favorite bullshit lines. What does it even mean? “End of the day” – End of the day what? From my personal experience, people use it when they are losing an argument and it is usually followed by the words ‘it all boils down to… ’ and they repeat the same loser argument stating them as inevitable but improvable truths. Use it only if you are a loser. 


Ballpark: If you are trying to impress people around you by using what you think are sophisticated words, get a life asshole! I know you picked up the word from the Economic Times. Why would any normal person right in his mind use the word ballpark when you can use the words ‘roughly’ or ‘approximately’?


To be (perfectly) honest with you: Was that person lying all this while? And what the hell is “perfectly honest”? It’s either honest or it’s dishonest. At this juncture you might be tempted to say, “The world is not black and white” but remember that is in the extended list of clichés I hate. 

I’d be more than happy to: Again, do they really mean it when they say it? Seriously more than happy as in delighted, blissful, ecstatic, exalted, joyous? “I’d be rolling in ecstasy to take care of your dog for the weekend” doesn’t sound right does it? There is a reason the phrase sucks. 

Literally: I have friend who literally uses literally so many times that I am beginning to think she literally. has no brains. A fly landed on her nose the other day and she said, “A fly literally landed on my nose” How can a fly non-literally land on someone’s nose? Hi honey, if you’re reading this, you can thank me by buying me a muffin. You’re welcome.

The newspapers also use it a lot. Haven’t we all heard during the election season something like, “It was literally a landslide victory”? The only scenario in which this sentence can make sense is if all the people who are planning to vote for the other guy are tragically buried alive in a landslide the day before the election. If that happens, you can hail it as a literally landslide victory. 

You should give 110%: For the last time, there is no such thing as 110%. 100% is the maximum you can give. The phrase was probably coined by a frustrated basketball coach during the half time of a match his team was about to lose. Needless to say, the frustrated coach flunked math in highschool.

And finally: It's not Che, its Cliché - 

 
This list in no way is comprehensive. I just wrote down a few I could think of. Having said that, I’d like to add that I’ll leave no stone unturned towards my campaign that seeks to end this abuse of language. If we start the campaign right away, we can still touch base and save the language in the nick of time. But I have a sneaking suspicion that, from time immemorial, intelligent people have been trying to do this but at the end of the day, I am sure that it all boils down to whether I walk the talk as well as I can talked the talk. Well some things are easier said than done. 

P.S: Tweetable Thoughts is a new series of comic strips with short commentary or one-liners which will be published in gtoosphere's facebook page. Tweetable thoughts is exclusive to the facebook page, so join the page using the like-box in the side bar.

g2 vs. Problem Solvers of the Worst Kind

Chapter 1: Traveler g2

I love traveling but I also hate packing. These forces of love and hate ensure I am in a perennial state of internal conflict. But when I do travel, they usually are long train journeys. The special thing about long train journeys for guys is what I call the “five minutes of hope (F-MoH)”. It’s those five special minutes between getting onto the platform and getting into the train where one does not rule out the possibility of sitting next to a hot girl for the next 24 hours! It never happens in real life and yet we guys never learn to get over it! Our mojo needs the F-Moh! This raises a more important question, “What mode of transport do the hot girls use?” (Hot girls, please comment. We really need some answers here!)

Chapter 2: Problem Solvers of the worst kind

Every train journey needs a ticket and getting it is not easy, especially for the 80% of the people who plan their journey just one week in advance. A few years back, it was impossible for an aam aadmi to get tickets just one week in advance. It was because the travel agents used to block tickets and hoard them to sell at a higher price in the last minute. Ah! The nerve on those travel agents who take the aam aadmi for a ride when all he wants is a ticket! Do they think they can just get away behaving like the mafia?


Not, so easy fellas because our folks at the railways, being the wonderful problem solvers they are, came up with a superb idea to solve the problem. Their solution: TATKAL. So the money we used to pay to the travel agents now goes to the railways. Problem solved – at least that’s what the folks at the railways thought!

But the travel agents are like the mob, they won’t lie low for long. So two or three years into the system, getting an online tatkal ticket is impossible at eight in the morning. Getting it at the railway station – next to impossible. People are sleeping there all night to be first in line! And who are these people sleeping all night? The agents of the travel agents themselves! So once again, aam aadmi is forced to crawl back to the travel agent but now he has to shell out extra money to both the railways (as tatkal charges) and the travel agents.

So much for solving our problems. Our folks at the railways truly are problem solvers of the worst kind. And remember: the mob travel agent eventually gets to you.

g2 vs. Problem Solvers of the worst kind

With the scars of traveling in sleeper class of Konark Express in peak summer with 130 Oriya people in the coach still fresh, I was determined to travel AC for my return to Bombay. Getting a tatkal ticket is difficult, but getting an AC ticket in summer is almost impossible without contacts. So I made a couple of phone calls but all my contacts soon reached dead ends. I either had to go to a travel agent or do it myself and I chose myself.


Day 1: I was at the station at 4:30 AM; there were 20 people in the queue and there were only three reservation counters. I did not stand a chance – retreat.
 
Day 2: I chose a sparsely crowded counter this time and found myself third in queue. I stood a chance this time. It was 7:50 and the clerk hasn’t arrived yet! He came at 7:55, but there were two people accompanying him into the office. Travel agents! (those sons of bitches), the clerk was on their payroll! The first two tickets went to the travel agents. I was essentially fifth and my turn came at 8:06. But it was too late, just 6 minutes after the reservation opened and I had to go back empty handed but at the back of my mind I knew that I live to fight another day. 

Day 3: Did not wake up. 

Day 4: Unexpected relatives at home, so ditched going to the station.

Day 5: Relatives still at home; booked a bus ticket as backup.

Day 6: The D-day. I knew this was the last shot but I had it all planned. This time I went to a different counter at 11 PM the previous night, parked my bike, slipped in a fifty to the guy at the parking lot and gave him my reservation form along with the exact instructions.

"The parking lot guy is to keep an eye on the reservation counter and hand out my reservation form to the first person that stands in the queue thereby automatically reserving the second spot for me."

This time, it worked. I went leisurely at 6:30 AM and yet I was second in line. I was sure (from gathered intelligence) that no travel agent will jump the queue at this counter.

At 8:03, it was my turn… I was nervously waiting as the clerk efficiently types in the form and says, “AC 3-tier not available, take sleeper”. My world kind of came crashing down. But this time, I was determined to go all the way and so I said, “try AC two-tier” to which he said, “yes available!”

That was it – a moment of elation. I was overwhelmed with joy. It was not just a personal victory; its a triumph of human will against inhuman adversary. I was somewhere between cloud nine and seventh heaven when I got some perspective and said to myself, “Dude, all you bought was a stupid return ticket, get a life!”

Just as I was on the way back home with the ticket, dark clouds from the south-west smeared the sky hiding the rising sun making the morning darker than dawn. The monsoon has finally arrived. It started to rain thereby making the AC ticket kind of redundant! 

Kites, Cannes and Laila

Chapter 1: A review of reviews

I have an extraordinary hunch about movies, so extraordinary that it is often confused with the other superpowers that I have. I can just look at the promo or the poster of a movie and I can tell how good the movie is with an almost hundred percent accuracy. The day I figure out how I can use this special ability to fight crime – I’ll be a superhero. So my hunch about Kites was something like… “They are really going to screw up the story but people will praise Hrithik” which is what always happens for Hrithik irrespective of how shitty the movie is.” (Remember the best acting award he got for Krish?)

Marketed as India’s first international movie, the reviews of Kites is pretty much close to my expectations. Not very well thought-through script, stupid Bollywoodish second half, Barbara Mori, a lot of publicity and the reviewers pimping out of the movie asking you to watch the movie “just for Hrithik” because he looks so "dashing"! May be its time straight men review our movies like in the good old days!

Chapter 2: Bollywood at Cannes

The Indian media makes a lot of noise during the Cannes film festival by meticulously covering the entire battalion from Bollywood making red carpet appearances. Strangely no one reports on what the hosts think of our film industry.

Around the same time last year, I was in this train from Normandy to Rennes (in north-western France) alone and bored. Sitting next to me was this hot chick immersed in her iPod swinging her head almost in sync with the movement of the train. I managed to strike a conversation with her and we discussed a lot of things; movies being the second (don’t ask what the first was!). During the course of our conversation she asked in a thick French accent, “Why do a lot of Indian actors come to Cannes every year? Your movies are not that good!”

That was one of the rare moments I was left speechless – I mean literally out of speech! Deep down, I do agree with what she said about our movies but accepting that fact before a foreigner is a completely different thing! (Patriotism?) Having said that, if I try to defend our movies, I’d look like a complete idiot and we all know women talk – which would make half of France think I am an idiot! So I was stuck in this classic delicate ‘country before self’ dilemma. In the end I am proud that I did the right thing – whatever it is :p

Chapter 3: Laila – you’ve got me on my knees

The recent cyclone that hit the coastal districts of Andhra Pradesh and Tamil Nadu is named Laila. I am not sure who names those things but this is definitely a recent phenomenon. I suspect it has something to do with scores of 24x7 news channels mushrooming over the past few years. The media hype over Laila reminded me of this monologue by George Carlin,

"Do you know why hurricanes have names instead of numbers? To keep the killing personal. No one cares about a bunch of people killed by a number. "200 dead as Number Three slams Ashore" is not nearly as interesting as the headline "Charlie kills 200". Death is much more satisfying and entertaining if you personalize it"

We Indians sure learned something from Hurricane Katrina ;)