Miss Korea

So if you take all the contestants for Miss Korea beauty pageant and put them in one GIF...

Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt the long pause on this blog with a (seemingly) racist post (which is not, cause I didn't say anything at all). Now please carry on.

House warming and other pet peeves

It's a well known fact among my near and dear that I generally avoid the never ending pujas and the 'functions' (and methods and procedures) of even my near and dear. Though I should quickly mention, the same should not be mistaken for why I am usually absent from some wedding ceremonies - that almost always is because I have poorly timed my other errands.

But the pujas are a different story.
 * The sthothras and the mantras, the meaning of which have long been forgotten by the people who organise them, with the exception, if at all, by the people who
conduct them.
*The thronging of the sheep, most of who are sweet enough to show moral support by simply showing up, might sometimes seem charitable and narcissistic in its own sense that if they
didn't, God wouldn't rain prosperity on the organiser, or simply on the other hand, that the host would feel disappointed of their absence among the scores that they invited.
*The overwhelming crowd and the inherent attribute of everyone in one to withstand the sea of guests as they wade or back paddle in them.
*The possibly fatal (for me, or even those in my vicinity) insufficient supply of my coffee.
*The need to appease every single node of my overgrown, overly-in-touch family tree, by  acknowledging relatives whose faces (occasionally) are the only thing I remember, not how my dad's distant cousin's wife's younger son's elder daughter,
was ever introduced to me or her name or anything else for that matter, let alone the fact that I have to keep myself from even blinking, as this person who had probably only met me twice before, is asking me the intricate details of my salary and how soon I intended to tie the knot.
The list is inexhaustible.

However, all said and done, there are days when I have to relent. Simply because my mum-and-dad invoke the 'I-am-your-mum/dad-and-thou-shalt-do-as-I-say' rule. Haven't heard of that one?
Well its the second most powerful rule. The first is 'I-am-your-girlfriend' rule, which eventually will be null and void and replaced with 'I-am-your-wife' rule, but that's a discussion for another day.

So, the rule was invoked and my fate for this last Sunday was set - I was going to attend a house warming ceremony at my dad's sister's big ass shop in the neighbouring galaxy.

After 16-17 months of tirelessly searching for a house to buy for my folks, all efforts in vain, there is nothing more relaxing than riding in the sun, on an empty stomach, in Bangalore traffic, through the Mysore road, for 33 kilometers, so that I could sit inside an unventillated room, with the sunfacing side covered only by glass, among 200 other people engulfed by the smoke from the holy homa and think about how I could have been sitting in my own house warming ceremony instead.

Oh I forgot, the babies who cry like there is no tomorrow- music to the ears. They add that little zing to the entire episode.

How? How do you people do it? Do you take something to endure this? Is it ingested orally? Tell me your secret!!

Quiet

It's pretty quiet on my blog roll for the past few months. Nobody seems to have anything much to say. Honestly speaking, its been like that for almost 2 years. And anybody who does have anything to say are kids who have discovered blogs and have the most inflated opinions on the most boring topics, expressed in painfully elaborate notes. The general consensus when I was in the middle of my BE was that blogging was dead. Seems a bit like that now. Read old post (with a weird spam comment) now! Also I wonder how many of you will actually read this, since I'm not really gonna post its link anywhere.

It's been quiet from my end too. But trust me, I have only been quiet because I have been busy as a beaver on speed and a pretty happy, contented one at that.

Break the streak, I must. Soon, I will. Until then, let the force help you live long and prosper.

How some things are born

A man in a suit walks up to a clan of female coconut climbers...

Him: "Hey you"

Her: "Yeah?"

Him: "Who is the leader of your clan?"

Her: "It's me. What do you want?"

Him: "I have a job offer for you and your clan"

Her: "We already have a job."

Him: "But we pay slightly better. Are you interested?"

Her: "I'm listening.."

Him: "It involves a little bit of dancing..."

Her: "Dancing? We hardly know anything about dancing. We pluck coconuts! Are you out of your mind?"

Him: "Na, you don't have to worry. Just pretend there is a coconut tree and make the same moves you make while climbing one. Except, there will be some music."

Her: "That it?"

Him: "Yup. That it!"

Her: "Deal. Girls, get here!!"


--

That ladies and gentlemen, how the Sri Lankan T20 World cup cheerleaders were born.

Culture politics

There is a problem with this country. A problem that has been brewing, slowly and steadily. And this problem is not gonna go away easily, because that problem has been nurtured among us. It has penetrated its slimy tentacles and imbibed itself into our so called society, if it can still be called that - society. Isn't a society a place where people live socially and behave like civilized humans?

There are elements at play. Elements that claim they are doing a religious duty, of morally policing the "misguided youth", to correct them, to teach them to dress appropriately, to never go around with a person of the opposite gender. And all this is done by harassing and mercilessly beating up helpless boys and girls. All in the name of culture.

Someone should ask these neanderthals:
Is beating up each other, even young school/college boys and girls a part of our culture? Who taught you how to behave? Did a stranger have to come and beat you up for it?

If a guy decides to put his arms around his girl, if a girl wants to dress up like a slut and walk the streets, if a bunch of kids want to have an all night booze party then its their decision. Its a decision. Its not a decision that broke a law, put you or anyone else in harm. If at all there is any harm, its for themselves and if so, they shall repent. And if they do repent, so will their parents, who obviously took a wrong step somewhere.

This country doesn't need a Taliban. It doesn't need messengers of Hindutva neither does it need the caretakers of our culture.

Culture was what evolved from millions of thinking minds over thousands of generations. If its changing, then its following its own free flowing course.


You know why this country has a problem? Because any guy who can't get laid, has a problem with a guy who can. Because any woman who wasn't allowed to peek out of the window while growing up, has a problem with a girl who can roam the streets. Because every single person, who doesn't think on their own shoulders, blindly follow these rowdies if they say it was done in the name of "saving our culture" or in the name of religion. Because any Xenophobic, forever-alone, self-hating, hypocrite can be a celebrated hero if he/she says the right things. These elements are leading us in the direction of another Afghanistan/Waziristan.

If this goes on, the day is not far away when this army of zombies are gamed into thinking that its okay to rape a girl in the name of saving our culture, because she was misbehaving. Trust me, that day is not far away at all.

I might not like it if the new generation if full of self-centered, slutty, shameless, coke-sniffing, never-sober, disease infested people. But I doesn't mean I will not tolerate them. As long as they keep to themselves, it is none of my business.

We need a revolution alright. But a revolution where we focus on correcting ourselves instead.

Are you worried that your son or daughter will be one of them? Then do us all a favour, don't be an asshole, just - BE A GOOD PARENT!


--
Sincerely yours,
A believer

Life in two cities

Two beautiful cities. Two beautiful lives.
What connects the two, is a wonderful bike ride.
One gives me my bread and butter,
while the other has my family, friends and a soulful lover.

Pretty people everywhere and not a friend to be seen,
in the city covered with smoke, but still so green.
The other is full of friends at every step,
Every time, best 48 hours that's ever been.

In one life, I earn my dreams I ever dreamed,
in the other, I dream to earn, like I ever earned.
One life built the man I am now,
while the other life was built by the man I already was,


Two beautiful cities. Two beautiful lives.
Both connected by an enchanting ride.

Cosmic romance

I have been waiting. Patiently.
Because, it was written. 14 billion years ago. 

I have been waiting for her ever since we were just star dust as she was waiting for me. I don't know how many suns were born and destroyed over and over again to ensure the ensuing gravitational dance would bring us together and finally, here we are, in this solar system, in the only known life bearing planet.

I wonder what all forms we had to take just so that our star dusts could come together and finally turn into the molecules that now make our bodies.

If she was the star, I was her planet.
If she was a planet, I was her moon.
If she was the moon then I was her tide.

From mere star dusts who once fell in love,
billions of years ago,
from millions of miles apart,
made a silent promise to each other,
to be together one day,
and waited for this to happen while gazing at the stars,
we are now here on the dirt of this earth and
as a bead of my sweat rolls down her shoulder,
I hear her whisper my name and I feel that breath on my cheek.


I know,
this cosmic romance has reached its more interesting point.