Nice Guy at 50

January 30, 2008 at 11:23 am | Posted in King markiV returns | 8 Comments
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I get this a lot. Random people calling me mean, those around constantly advicing me to be nice et al.

Not fair, I say. Im a very nice guy if you will… And what better opportunity to remind the world of my niceties, than the Silver Jubilee of my blog!

Speaking of which, I bring you the glorious 50th post in this little archipelago of creativity, genius, emotions and a few other words from Karunanidhi’s speech last month.

And before you ask, here are the top ten reasons why I am a really really nice guy, and why you should get to know me better if you are a girl and just click on the ad banners and be away if you are a guy-

#10 The Group Thing: Whenever I make life hell for someone in the group I make sure that everyone else there enjoys it. Goes on to show my everlasting care for greater happiness.

#9 Tip of the Iceberg: Despite the fact that the tip amount you enter on the debit card recipt cannot be debited without a swipe, I always leave a handsome tip, just to make the waiter happy.

#8 Anger Management: I never kill, hurt, insult or in any other way harm any living being. Especially humans. Ever. Unless provoked.

#7 Man of the Masses: If I have to be depressed and take a suicidal drive down the road, I try to sqeeze in as many people as I can into the car and share the adrenalin rush. Most often I tend to bring back the love of life in them.

#6 Monosyllabic Caller: If there is something uninteresting in the other side of the conversation I pull it out to the top and bring it to their notice before they proceed to make a greater fool of themselves.

#5 Psychiatrist Adviser: With the occasional few people who do come to me for advice, I make sure that they don’t go back disappointed and give an understanding nod and the best course of action then on. Even if I don’t understand a shit of what they are talking.

 

#4 Alcoholics Anonymous: Talking to people when I’m drunk and they are not gives me the satisfaction of them assuming that all I say is the truth and nothing but the truth and thus ultimately feeling happy about it. If you are hearing what you want to hear or even what you like, Im just not drunk enough.

#3 Rubbing Salt: Everytime I meet someone who has done something to ever feel guit or shame that I know of, I carefully remind them about it and give them a pleasant cruise of nostalgia.

#2 The Path Finder: I take it a sense of responsibility in giving clear directions to the directionless many that stop by me on the roads. In fact I take this so far as to give them a clear description even when I don’t have a clue.

#1 Call back: Not a lot of people would really be this nice, but I always make it a point to give the girl a call after some intimacy. Or at least a message. Most often after. Usually. Sometimes…

 

That must do it. At least 10 awesome reasons to prove I’m probably one of the few nice guys left on this planet.

Oh, and now for a vote of thanks.

At this time of the glorious 50, I take a moment to thank all those who have made this possible. I thank the jobless IT guys who despite recessions and downsizing continue to rummage around blogs and drop inconsequential comments.

I would also like to thank my critics for… umm… Actually no. I wouldn’t like to thank you. The comments continue to get moderated, I read all your comments and I don’t care if you have cracks on your butt and therefore find my posts offensive.

I would further like to thank all those who like smokes and chai. Not much direct correlation, but thank them nevertheless.

Last but not the least, I would like to thank the millions of fellow humans who I do not know and therefore don’t have to care about not thanking.

Thank you all. As a “50” treat you could click on any of the many ad banners around my site. Please. I’m very poor and the recession got to me!

My Gran caused all these Rapes

January 7, 2008 at 6:58 am | Posted in life | 15 Comments
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A quick run around- the Mumbai molestation… The Kerala gilmaans… The Chennai silmishamms

Why are women being subject to so many more tortures than they had to endure even a few years earlier? I read a news cast that says that the women are to blame for wearing such revealing clothes and inviting trouble upon themselves. So much so, a rape victim is actually the instigator and therefore the cause of the incident.

Kudos there. That actually solves a major law and order problem. All cases now can be directly attributed to the flaw of the victim. That dude there snatched your chain because you were showing it out and therefore instigated him to it. The cheat manipulated you only because you were stupid enough. The assassin shot Benazir only because she poked her head out of the sunroof. Arrest the victims!

But lets take an honest ride and see where this stems from. A little over four decades back in the generation of my gran, and continuing up until less than ten years ago, the most massive extermination of women in known history took birth in our country. Genocide starting with kalli-paal-kelavis and peaking with scientific innovation of ultrasound and abortions, at least before the government woke up to it. The result? A major tip in the male-female ratio…

Now, that means there no longer exists one woman for every man. So much for divine love and soul mates. It also means that most of you male readers hawking this post right now would live up to a ripe old age in undisputed singularity. A few could become content Buddhas, delving into the greater pleasures of philosophy, science and alcohol. Some could turn the availability scenarios in sexual preference and look for similarities in partners. But most of the dejected masculine harboring jealously, pride and beer would wreak havoc to the few that do hold their prize damsels. And that, my readers, is exactly what has been filling our papers the past few months.

Without much ado, lets get into the subject of wider interest and personal expertise… Given that the few remaining women are getting more adept and competitive, and based on the logic that the greater mass still believes that the man should be higher up the social/economic/education ladder than the woman, that makes more men who fall through on the competition to go single.

Moreover given the fact that the little ray of hope for the lower rungs are still awed by the ‘mora-mama’ syndrome, that makes more relative-less men die relative -less!

As a final straw, based on the psyche that modern women would rather find themselves in association with an already wedded/ widowed/ divorced/ available man who matches their subjective criteria despite his abjectly not-so-single status pushes the free radical even lower.

If bad did not get to worse already, post modern women sentiments (read feminist) leads to a greater number of happy spinsters and like-like bonds in the woman fraternity, which creates a bigger hole on the deficit.

Pretty soon the demand -supply gap is going to catch on… With more single men, the future generation would either have to do with a drastic reduction in the number of women or have a system of polyandry.

Assuming that the demand side pressure wins the battle (a gal-guy many-to-one relationship), a case of polyandry would ensure multiple men wedded to a single woman. Emotions apart, this would rock the stability of the human species since the gene pool of ‘n’ men would require minimally ‘n’ gestation periods.

If the supply side wins the battle (a gal-guy one-on-one… not that you pervert), and women have their say, we could expect a gradual weeding out of the genes of men who do not fall on the minimal social ladder of women. Given the current encouragement for more women to rise up the steep, that is saying something. Two generations down we would then only find the upper middle class and the BPL peoples (since they still inbreed and so don’t get wiped out).

Either way we can hope to see women holding a powerful position on the future of the species and men shadowed to a point where they need to fight to pass on their genes…

And all this because a half century back my Gran chose to have a son!

Out of CTRL

A happening year if you will…

January 2, 2008 at 1:04 pm | Posted in bong, life | 11 Comments
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New Years have never been especially nice to me. My early childhood new years consisted of almost night long celebration at the only club my dad assumed worthy enough. That translated to a fun filled seven to eleven evening with hundreds of middle aged men and women carrying either toddlers or septuagenarians on their backs, playing lotto for stakes that included electic pressure cookers and non-stick cookware, and dancing to MAASHILAA UNMAIKAADALEEE…

Starting my high school years, I carefully avoided these trips (they are now extinct altogether) by planning alternatives with friends. In lieu of further length addition to the post, let me just put in quick pointers as to the yearly celebration patterns since.

2000-2001: Had a tough time deciding where to go. Finally settled at Qwicky’s G.N.Chetty Road until we were kicked out at 11. Had a new year countdown on my watch right outside Bhuvi’s house.

2001-2002: Again got confused with the many alternatives we had and singled it to spending the night at the beach. Got caught by the cops near Ashok Nagar for not having a license and ended up spending the midnight wagering the cop to let us out for the only fifty we had.

2002-2003: Got drunk at some galeej wine shop.

2003-2004: Class Tour at Kodai. Invested in a huge cake that was truly rock solid. So much so one of the guys ended up with a bleeding forehead…

2004-2005: Got drunk at the same galeej wine shop. Only it was now TASMAC.

2005-2006: Again indecisiveness ruled us to roam the streets of Chennai. Celebrated midnight at a petrol bunk in Nungambakkam.

2006-2007: Now that we were rich and all, we decided to get a taste of aristocracy, no matter how expensive and went to Courtyard Marriot. Two grand a night was a tad bit too much and we went to a cheaper place and had some good wine (WINE! The ends we go to for aristocracy!)

Back to the story now.

This year, we decided that we had waited far too long. After all, we were all well payed, old enough and terribly short of opportunities to throw our hard earned money on a dead end task. We looked around, singled on a moderately expensive disc and got our feet together. Clothes laid out, shoes, groomed hair, enough fuel in the car, and a sober friend tagging along so he could drive my car back home.

We go in at ten. My friend comes to hear that the booze goes on till 4 am. That is good enough to keep my juice flowing. We take it slow, walk around, observe the guys trying to manage their chicks who got high on round one. We take our drinks, get the grab… The music sucks but at least it isn’t just the FM playing in my car!

Its 11.20 pm. Im waiting for the first real count down, with real people… Im looking at the apparently hep and the obviously galeej and trying to match the responses when all the lights go off…

I guess you must have read the papers. The dance floor gave way at Savera. From my stance just a few meters away from the broken wood and splinters, I realized the horror the moment carried. The booze would now get closed down.

In a moment of despair, the faculty that sees prejudice, malice and reason breaks down. I, along with most others there pulled as many as we could to safety. I along with many others then promptly rushed to the beverage counter to get a couple more drinks before the inevitable happened.

At the strike of midnight, at least four people had been loaded into ambulances. At the strike of midnight at least five bottles were forced out from the holdings by the boisterous revelers. At the stike of midnight my friends and I sang an ancient poem we had been taught in pre KG and mourned the accident.

I learnt a couple of interesting things standing in the thick of the accident incident. For one, I realized the inherent flaws in communism and group tendency when the cycle-gap squadron of the mob decided to break the pots outside the hotel to express their anguish. I also witnessed the greater truth of human sentiments when the same group that had earlier reprimanded me for my insensitive nature in witnessing the scene later walked out with a bottle in hand under the auspices of the chaos.

Overall, it was a pretty passable new year merely in terms of experience and excitement. I heard one of the guys died that night. I’m really sorry about the anticlimax. Let his soul rest in peace.

As an epilogue, my car tire blew up on the way back. Thankfully I did not realize this until I had reached home.

Happy 2008 everybody. At least try not to kill yourselves.

PS: We got the money back! Free booze for what its worth!

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