Did you know that Indians are the largest spenders on holidays abroad and with the dollar falling, ho boy American Malls here we come. But on a more serious note, there’s a growing trend amongst people to immigrate because they think other countries are better.
Everyone wants to go to America “land of opportunities” or Britain, which, I can proudly say is filled with pre-independence based Indians {Curry on England}.
But it’s not so hunky dory to immigrate or even to study abroad because eventually like it or not, you encounter racism. And I’m sure everyone is anti-racism but really, look at the bigger picture; we are in fact all racist pigs. And racism gets really ugly. Some drunken Brits beat a friend of mine and I thought he’d be angry or terrified but he wasn’t a tiny bit fazed so I asked him “why?” and he said, “they were just trying to make some money” “some money” “yeah, you see in Britain you get money if you’re a health hazard and recently they’ve added xenophobia to their list, so… Had to agree, you can’t argue with that.
Recently some very dear friends of mine immigrated to Australia and they had many problems getting some stuff across customs. So when they told me, I was surprised and said “well, pretty tough for a penal colony don’t you think”. Yup, before Foster’s Australia was a penal colony and that makes for a good pick up line if you’re ever in a bar in Australia “Hey good looking, wasn’t your great,great,great grandfather a convict? What, mine too, only recently, but mine too”.
Another thing I stumbled on was that the Brits refer to the Queen as “mummy”; This gave Shekhar Kapoor, the writer and director of Elizabeth and Elizabeth: the golden age an idea on how to get his film prints across without plagiarism. He simple titled them “the Mummy” and The Mummy Returns”
Oh, and before I forget, I promised to dedicate this blog to my friend, which is why the blog is named such and so as to not leave the title completely useless here are some thoughts –
The amazing delicious plant is the 4th largest crop in the world and Ireland depends on it.
There’s quite a famous song based it as well, if you don’t remember it here are the lyrics
“You like potato and I like potahto,
You like tomato and I like tomahto;
Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto!
Let's call the whole thing off!”
Now isn’t that a good way to handle feuds. Just Potato Potahto it. India can make the nuke deal don’t call and say the left is threatening to topple the government, just say “oh Potato Potahto”.
And on that note would like to leave you but if you have anything to say for which I should apologize; I say to you “Potato Potahto”
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Where's my mommy
Well, well well….if it isn’t you again.
Keep coming back don’t you. But now that you are here, might as well give you something to while away your time {I know I certainly am}.
I’m sure all of us at one time or the other have, in our childhood mistaken somebody else for our mothers. That perhaps, is the beginning of your abandonment issues {call my psychiatrist, its discount rate for friends and family, I’m a good customer}.
Anywho, you realize that all this happens only because we, as kids, don’t give a damn really. We’re to firkin busy looking at the He-Man’s and the Barbie’s and fantasizing {about imaginary friends, you sick bastard}. You’re too busy too care until, of course, you want to buy something or in the words of my grandma “en nu bhukh lagi hai, ya ninder ayi hai” , in other words, you’re either sleep, hungry or cranky; so you look for mother dearest.
And here’s the kicker - you can’t find her cause you too wee to look up and see their faces and God really did not give us a fashion sense to remember what mommy dear was wearing {damn Tommy Hillfiger}. So you do the next best thing, you go by leg length and width {and if mama was big, it was easier} and eventually you latch on to the first pair of legs you think meet your standards {which was - good looks}. But whatever the reason, you find yourself crying, not because it’s the wrong woman but because it’s the wrong woman in front of whom you’ve made an ass of yourself {it would have been less traumatic is someone told us that we get many chances to do that in our adult life}.
And just as strange lady is about to buy you an ice cream, MOMMY appears {how do they do that, maternal instinct?} and there goes your ice cream, just when mommylessness was turning into a good thing.
But, before I forget, the reason that I mention this is because a good friend of my dad went shopping with his family. Now, Micky uncle is quite a sharp fellow, very witty and very funny but a bit zonked at most time.
Carrying on, Micky uncle was standing in one shop when his wife and one daughter moved on. He didn’t realize and kept looking around and started {to the amazement on his younger daughter, who was still there} to talk to a strange woman about dry fruits. As he turned around, he saw his daughter staring at him, about to break into laughter; when he swung about, looked at the strange woman and said, “Darling, I’m going to the other shop” and walked out as if nothing had happened.
Enough whiling away, I have work to do and I’m sure you do to.
Keep coming back don’t you. But now that you are here, might as well give you something to while away your time {I know I certainly am}.
I’m sure all of us at one time or the other have, in our childhood mistaken somebody else for our mothers. That perhaps, is the beginning of your abandonment issues {call my psychiatrist, its discount rate for friends and family, I’m a good customer}.
Anywho, you realize that all this happens only because we, as kids, don’t give a damn really. We’re to firkin busy looking at the He-Man’s and the Barbie’s and fantasizing {about imaginary friends, you sick bastard}. You’re too busy too care until, of course, you want to buy something or in the words of my grandma “en nu bhukh lagi hai, ya ninder ayi hai” , in other words, you’re either sleep, hungry or cranky; so you look for mother dearest.
And here’s the kicker - you can’t find her cause you too wee to look up and see their faces and God really did not give us a fashion sense to remember what mommy dear was wearing {damn Tommy Hillfiger}. So you do the next best thing, you go by leg length and width {and if mama was big, it was easier} and eventually you latch on to the first pair of legs you think meet your standards {which was - good looks}. But whatever the reason, you find yourself crying, not because it’s the wrong woman but because it’s the wrong woman in front of whom you’ve made an ass of yourself {it would have been less traumatic is someone told us that we get many chances to do that in our adult life}.
And just as strange lady is about to buy you an ice cream, MOMMY appears {how do they do that, maternal instinct?} and there goes your ice cream, just when mommylessness was turning into a good thing.
But, before I forget, the reason that I mention this is because a good friend of my dad went shopping with his family. Now, Micky uncle is quite a sharp fellow, very witty and very funny but a bit zonked at most time.
Carrying on, Micky uncle was standing in one shop when his wife and one daughter moved on. He didn’t realize and kept looking around and started {to the amazement on his younger daughter, who was still there} to talk to a strange woman about dry fruits. As he turned around, he saw his daughter staring at him, about to break into laughter; when he swung about, looked at the strange woman and said, “Darling, I’m going to the other shop” and walked out as if nothing had happened.
Enough whiling away, I have work to do and I’m sure you do to.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
It's a funny life
If you’ve ever caught just for laugh on Zee café, you’d definitely think that it’s great to be a stand-up comedian.
I thought so too and tried my hand at it but failed. I’m a much better sit-down comedian.
Life can be quite funny at times, especially when it tricks you with strange absurd and embarrassment causing diseases.
Have you ever had such a disease? Nope?! Too bad!
Well, I have. It all started when I told my ex-girlfriend I was going to be a PHILANTHROPIST and to my excited amazement she was quite OK with it. I though I had found the one girl every man wanted when a week or so later she found me with another woman and blew her top off {not to be confused with a blouse}. Anywho, I later checked and found that the word I was looking at was PHILANDERING, but apparently CLOSE didn’t quite cut it with her; she left with a broken heart and I left with a broken arm and some fractured ribs.
The fact that these words were polar opposites struck me. Of course, I spent a week recovering from a mild concussion and a lasting headache but it was quite an impacting experience.
It has removed all traces of trust for the English language, I mean what kind of a moron would pronounce the sound of F with a PH, where is the logic. Like math and religion, we have all accepted any and everything dictated by a bunch of morons to be absolutley true.
While pondering over the mystery of my FENOMINAL discovery {I refuse to obey laws set by morons} when suddenly E called out of the blue and said she wanted to spend the day with me. It wasn’t too agreeable, especially since the days are getting expensive. I told her the night were better {and cheaper too}, so we met for dinner and I told her how I was planning to start an account in the bank with my unspent afternoons.
As the dinner continued, E ordered a curious drink for herself and I asked her what she was drinking. She said “scotch and carrot juice” and I asked “why?” to which she replied “I get drunk but I see good”.
As the night continued we discussed many things and realized many truths; one of them being that if I were ever a woman I’d be a lesbian.
Have you ever experienced a sharp pain in your wrists when you're writing? You have?
THE END
I thought so too and tried my hand at it but failed. I’m a much better sit-down comedian.
Life can be quite funny at times, especially when it tricks you with strange absurd and embarrassment causing diseases.
Have you ever had such a disease? Nope?! Too bad!
Well, I have. It all started when I told my ex-girlfriend I was going to be a PHILANTHROPIST and to my excited amazement she was quite OK with it. I though I had found the one girl every man wanted when a week or so later she found me with another woman and blew her top off {not to be confused with a blouse}. Anywho, I later checked and found that the word I was looking at was PHILANDERING, but apparently CLOSE didn’t quite cut it with her; she left with a broken heart and I left with a broken arm and some fractured ribs.
The fact that these words were polar opposites struck me. Of course, I spent a week recovering from a mild concussion and a lasting headache but it was quite an impacting experience.
It has removed all traces of trust for the English language, I mean what kind of a moron would pronounce the sound of F with a PH, where is the logic. Like math and religion, we have all accepted any and everything dictated by a bunch of morons to be absolutley true.
While pondering over the mystery of my FENOMINAL discovery {I refuse to obey laws set by morons} when suddenly E called out of the blue and said she wanted to spend the day with me. It wasn’t too agreeable, especially since the days are getting expensive. I told her the night were better {and cheaper too}, so we met for dinner and I told her how I was planning to start an account in the bank with my unspent afternoons.
As the dinner continued, E ordered a curious drink for herself and I asked her what she was drinking. She said “scotch and carrot juice” and I asked “why?” to which she replied “I get drunk but I see good”.
As the night continued we discussed many things and realized many truths; one of them being that if I were ever a woman I’d be a lesbian.
Have you ever experienced a sharp pain in your wrists when you're writing? You have?
THE END
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