*WARNING!!! This Poem is by K!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously!!!!*
My apologies to V-Dude,
Late as it might be,
For people just don’t see, dude,
This was written by me.
It must’ve been so boring
And so incredibly vast,
And I can’t go imploring
That you go right to the last.
Yes, Monolith may read,
And Rae may comment,
As may another breed
Of a literary bent.
All right!
Let me stop this moonlighting,
And all this shammin’
I guess I’m just writing
For the Middle-Class Brahmin.
K.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
My Problems With Language
All right. There’s originals and there’s originals. And there’s the shameless Indian copies of the same. Songs, music pieces, movies, car chases from movies TV Shows, Reality Shows, and just about everything else. We, relinquishing the need to further our understanding and appreciation of our own Indian-ness, have even usurped the English language, and – to be fair to us, and to me, since I’m writin’ in it now – we have done a bloody good job of making it our own.
Such a dam’ good job that:
We are proud of flaunting it. We are proud of all our Booker nominees and winners and our Nobel Winners and our NY Times Bestseller list-making authors.
But, let’s face it, there’s some shockingly bad English out there that just jars my senses. Oh I know, I know, some will say I’m prejudiced, and others will smile, but this is serious.
If we want to woo firangs with English, let’s at least get it right!!!
I’m not talking about auto-drivers (curse that arrogant breed!) or waiters using bad language, or even incorrect grammar/English; I’m not talking about hippie wannabe software professionals and their faux accents. I’m talking BIG LEAGUE here.
Yes.
The Times of India.
F’r Chrissakes!!!! They bill themselves as the most widely read paper in the country (or was it Asia? The specifics escape my memory).
Read this article. Though the blood boils at the tales of the VIP Brats (I shall apply my immense intellect to that problem just a little while later), one thing catches the eye. One thing brings the bile to the throat, one thing jars.
This sentence:
“The car and the two bikes dashed sideways.”
Such a dam’ good job that:
We are proud of flaunting it. We are proud of all our Booker nominees and winners and our Nobel Winners and our NY Times Bestseller list-making authors.
But, let’s face it, there’s some shockingly bad English out there that just jars my senses. Oh I know, I know, some will say I’m prejudiced, and others will smile, but this is serious.
If we want to woo firangs with English, let’s at least get it right!!!
I’m not talking about auto-drivers (curse that arrogant breed!) or waiters using bad language, or even incorrect grammar/English; I’m not talking about hippie wannabe software professionals and their faux accents. I’m talking BIG LEAGUE here.
Yes.
The Times of India.
F’r Chrissakes!!!! They bill themselves as the most widely read paper in the country (or was it Asia? The specifics escape my memory).
Read this article. Though the blood boils at the tales of the VIP Brats (I shall apply my immense intellect to that problem just a little while later), one thing catches the eye. One thing brings the bile to the throat, one thing jars.
This sentence:
“The car and the two bikes dashed sideways.”
DASHED sideways???? Who are you, O Writer??? A school-kid??? Dashed indeed! And this person starts off with high-falutin’ stuff about ‘kin of prominent personalities running amok’. Jesus.
Another sentence on a neighbouring article begins ‘Even as the shocked Deve Gowda’s clan…’ Plurals v/s apostrophes, anyone??? Singular noun followed by plural verb? Someone who sees that as proper English deserves flak on a Gargantuan scale. I would say nothing if my seven year old cousin did it, or even my classmate. But someone writing a headliner article for one of the world’s top newspapers??? I cannot let it go. And what happened to the World-Class editing? The Proof-readers???
Okay. Maybe these are isolated incidents (we’ll choose to forget such typos that occur everyday, thus exonerating all writers, proofreaders and editors, because it’s too stupid a duel to take up. We will never change. We will always show off and fall flat on our faces. Idiots, we are.)
And now, for the second situation:
This one is HUGE. This one is seriously embarrassing, because it occurs in a place that is supposed to wow all visitors, Indian and otherwise, a place of International importance and cultural relevance.
And it occurs so many times in just that one place that I, being Indian, wanted to run away and hide myself somewhere.
I was on a recent visit to Hyderabad when I happened to visit one of India’s most famous institutions, a place that people from all over the world come to see.
The Salar Jung Museum. The museum is brilliant, the arrangements and the lighting and the exhibits are all impeccable – well, as much as can be granted under the circs. But, the displays. The placards and the brochures that give information about each exhibit. Out of every ten displays, eight have typos, bad grammar, horrible mistakes with names and spellings, and basically, very bad English. Considering that the museum has THOUSANDS of exhibits (and I saw them all), this error count is no mean number.
Displays for such important exhibits as the Veiled Rebecca, the Paintings Gallery, the Indian Sculpture section and such are simply riddled with bad English. Add to this faults about names and places and people, and you get something that’s really embarrassing. This place is supposed to showcase our heritage and our cultural wealth. All it does is show what little care we take. I’m surprised that a museum that boasts collections from Europe and England and indeed, all over the world, takes such little care about what is said about itself on it’s own displays and brochures.
Alright, maybe I’m caring too much about what others will think of us, maybe I’m being too critical on my own nation. Maybe I shouldn’t be making such a big deal, but hey, I would do that same if it were in any other language, let me tell you. Kannada or Tamil or English. We raise so much hullabaloo if any other language is misused, why not this also??
I’m writing from a state that bans a movie because it considers the title offensive to a historical character (and that movie had nothing to do with that character at all, if anyone bothered to watch the first two minutes.)
A state that, to promote writers in its language, is sponsoring English translations of Kannada plays which are Kannada translations of English plays. (e.g. An English Version of P. Lankesh’s Kannada version of Tennessee Williams was on the books, I don’t know if it’s happening. An English adaptation of an English translation of a Kannada work happened a couple of days back – I’m serious: a Kannada play was translated to English which was then altered and adapted and then presented in English. True creativity.)
So I feel justified in saying that either we learn to do things properly, or we quit doing it at all.
Ever vitriolic,
I remain,
Yours truly,
K.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
A Review
Everyone I know said, Everyone we know dies, why do you want to watch it? But I was adamant. I said, No, I’d like to see for myself, if you don’t mind. They gave up. I bought a 3-in-1 DVD, with X-Men I, II and III. I proceeded to watch X-Men III or X-3, as it will go down in movie history.
It was, without doubt, one of the most difficult movies I have ever sat through. I know Brett Ratner is a good man in his own right, but I hope he had nothing to do with the development of the story for X-3. After seeing the cracks in Bryan Singer’s psyche in the way he destroyed Superman Returns, I’d like to think this was also a mistake – that is, I’d like to think that the storyboard for X-3 was also Singer’s baby during his difficult period. I would not like to think that anyone, any writer with a moderate respect for the movies, would go in for such a killing spree as this, unless he was of the mindset to make Superman Returns. That was some serious warped shit, man!
I am a writer. I love characters. I love death as it is portrayed in movies. I am a great fan of both Bergman and Pasolini. But comic book heroes exist in a world of their own. They are entertainment. I love them. I will watch anything. But I will not stand for such endings. You do not simply KILL superheroes.
Alright, sagas (Sagæ, you say, Monlith? Okay, sagæ it is.) – sagæ have to end. I agree. But it is not worth it to simply kill off everyone in the bloody piece. I admit, we knew that Jean was a Class-5 mutant, a Fifth Standard Party, as we know it in Ovar Yindiaa, but there’s no need to make her look like Nemesis reincarnated (and mutated, if you’ll pardon the pun). No need to have good ol’ Wolverine become a cryin’ lover. No need to have Charles X. Xavier show weakness, even if it was a scene of him being bested. The only person’s portrayal I liked was Ian McKellen’s, though even he needn’t have suffered such a fate. Halle Berry again was wasted.
Singer, please quit the Superman Franchise (unless you’re planning to continue with Superman – True Brit) and come back and end X-Men properly.
No, better still, come back and do another X-Men. Let the series not end.
One of the greatest wielders of the English language, and probably THE greatest of all of them thriller writers, Alistair MacLean, put it beautifully, when he had a German, one of the Enemy, say very simply, in one of his novels (Probably THE LAST FRONTIER, or one of the NAVARONE novels):
“No one should die like this. Not even our enemies should die like this.”
This is so very true, when it comes to X-Men III. A remake is needed.
Singer, please oblige.
K.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
A PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
My Dear Readers...
The adventures of K-Man and V-Dude was supposed to be the newest post, but as I had saved it under drafts, it has come under random coffee house conversations..Kindly do read, and as always, leave comments...
Dhanyavaad
Random Tandem
The adventures of K-Man and V-Dude was supposed to be the newest post, but as I had saved it under drafts, it has come under random coffee house conversations..Kindly do read, and as always, leave comments...
Dhanyavaad
Random Tandem
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Conversations at a Coffee House
The devoted readers of this blog will remember an article which gave us tremendous insights into the mind of a teeny-bopper. This sort of gives us an overall perspective into the minds of people who visit coffee houses on a rainy sunday evening..
Our conversation begins, as most of mine do, sitting and waiting for someone, who was late. I was early..(kinda goes without saying), and having nothhign else to do, I eavesdropped. All around me, people were seated and conversing. I did not want to be rude, so I decided to just imbibe everything around me.
As i settle down, I take a customary gaze around the place to see if there is anyone I am acquainted with, in order to pass the time while I wait. There is noone. A table away from me, there are two gents who look like the weight of the world is on them. The elder of the two takes a puff from his cigarette and stares at the smoke he has just discharged with a mournful air, as if saying goodbye to a really old friend. The younger of the two is continuing to speak, with an extremely grave air, that seems suspended over that table.
Two tables away from me, two intellectuals are matching their wits in a gripping game of chess....I fight the urge to scream Knight to black 32...kill that queen...I lose...I scream...people look at me wierdly..and I sink back into my chair....
And one table away from that sit my favorite muses...teeny-boppers..both male and female..this crowd is loud..that is normal..it consists of three people...two male, and one incredibly attractive girl..I'm all male...I stare..and then, the conversation lifts my moods...
Boy: Macchha..I have reached a monumental decision (here, I am impressed he knows the meaning of the word and can actually pronounce it right,,,but perhaps I am being too harsh)
His two comrades stare at him...mouths agape...probably wondering what new style of jeans is he going to try to buy.
Boy 1: As I said, I have reached a monumental decision
The other male sitting at the table nods, as most friends do, while the girl giggles, as most girls do.
Boy1 : I need a very hot female best friend.
He's got my attention!!!
The other male looks up, lifts an eyebrow and listens. The girl continues to giggle. But suddenly, in the middle of the giggle, she feels the need to ask a question
Girl: But why?
Boy 1: Very simple..See, in all american tv serials, the best friends are always damned hot right?
He looks around for approval, and the friend, with all his frenzied nodding, now starts to look like a thinner version of Silent Bob. I also nod, but i hope they can't see me.
Boy 1: See, now if I have a hot best friend, we'll both go out with all the wrong people initially, and then we'll both realise that we need each other..and we've been right for each other all along.
More frenzied nodding, and even more high-pitched giggling...Personally, I think the other male at the table was wishing that the speaker would just cock up and buy him some coffee, but one msut be supportive, and like most good friends, he did an excellent job.
I decide to move onto the bathroom. Nature was calling and I didn't want it to leave a message. I amble in, push the door with full confidence, only to not have it yield under my grasp. Damn. SOmeone is inside. And so, I wait. As I do, a thought from a long-lost sms forward comes drifting to my head. " The length of a minute depends on which side of the bathroom door you are!" Truer wrods were not spoken. I still wait, patiently, trying not to think too much, but the only things that seem to come to my head are waterfalls, streams of water, flushes, and the rains. As if on cue, the heavens open up. I'm up against the elements. Finally, the door opens, the previous occupant wiping his hands dry exits the bathroom. I hold my nose and walk in. Ironically, the first thing I see is graffitti, fresh, mind you, loudly proclaiming " Do not take more than five minutes!!" Good advice.
I return to my table, and take my seat. My coffee and my fate for the evening have both arrived by this time, and so I take my leave from all around me, and begin to lose myself in her eyes.
And with that, cheers and good notions
V
Our conversation begins, as most of mine do, sitting and waiting for someone, who was late. I was early..(kinda goes without saying), and having nothhign else to do, I eavesdropped. All around me, people were seated and conversing. I did not want to be rude, so I decided to just imbibe everything around me.
As i settle down, I take a customary gaze around the place to see if there is anyone I am acquainted with, in order to pass the time while I wait. There is noone. A table away from me, there are two gents who look like the weight of the world is on them. The elder of the two takes a puff from his cigarette and stares at the smoke he has just discharged with a mournful air, as if saying goodbye to a really old friend. The younger of the two is continuing to speak, with an extremely grave air, that seems suspended over that table.
Two tables away from me, two intellectuals are matching their wits in a gripping game of chess....I fight the urge to scream Knight to black 32...kill that queen...I lose...I scream...people look at me wierdly..and I sink back into my chair....
And one table away from that sit my favorite muses...teeny-boppers..both male and female..this crowd is loud..that is normal..it consists of three people...two male, and one incredibly attractive girl..I'm all male...I stare..and then, the conversation lifts my moods...
Boy: Macchha..I have reached a monumental decision (here, I am impressed he knows the meaning of the word and can actually pronounce it right,,,but perhaps I am being too harsh)
His two comrades stare at him...mouths agape...probably wondering what new style of jeans is he going to try to buy.
Boy 1: As I said, I have reached a monumental decision
The other male sitting at the table nods, as most friends do, while the girl giggles, as most girls do.
Boy1 : I need a very hot female best friend.
He's got my attention!!!
The other male looks up, lifts an eyebrow and listens. The girl continues to giggle. But suddenly, in the middle of the giggle, she feels the need to ask a question
Girl: But why?
Boy 1: Very simple..See, in all american tv serials, the best friends are always damned hot right?
He looks around for approval, and the friend, with all his frenzied nodding, now starts to look like a thinner version of Silent Bob. I also nod, but i hope they can't see me.
Boy 1: See, now if I have a hot best friend, we'll both go out with all the wrong people initially, and then we'll both realise that we need each other..and we've been right for each other all along.
More frenzied nodding, and even more high-pitched giggling...Personally, I think the other male at the table was wishing that the speaker would just cock up and buy him some coffee, but one msut be supportive, and like most good friends, he did an excellent job.
I decide to move onto the bathroom. Nature was calling and I didn't want it to leave a message. I amble in, push the door with full confidence, only to not have it yield under my grasp. Damn. SOmeone is inside. And so, I wait. As I do, a thought from a long-lost sms forward comes drifting to my head. " The length of a minute depends on which side of the bathroom door you are!" Truer wrods were not spoken. I still wait, patiently, trying not to think too much, but the only things that seem to come to my head are waterfalls, streams of water, flushes, and the rains. As if on cue, the heavens open up. I'm up against the elements. Finally, the door opens, the previous occupant wiping his hands dry exits the bathroom. I hold my nose and walk in. Ironically, the first thing I see is graffitti, fresh, mind you, loudly proclaiming " Do not take more than five minutes!!" Good advice.
I return to my table, and take my seat. My coffee and my fate for the evening have both arrived by this time, and so I take my leave from all around me, and begin to lose myself in her eyes.
And with that, cheers and good notions
V
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
The Adventures Of K-Man And V-Dude
Super-heroes the world over, STEP ASIDE!!!!! There is a new tandem in town, with such magnificent super=powers, such mights, and most importantly, such incredible comic-timing. Presenting to you, with incredible amounts of confetti throwing, and loads of fan-fare, we present- "The Adventures Of K-Man And V-Dude!!!" Dan-dan-dannnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!
The Characters::
K-Man: Mild-mannered, if highly verbose, college student by day.....turns into the dark and moustachioed K-Man, scourge of villains and dictionaries alike.
V-Dude: Bumbling, stumbling,Klutzy sidekick. Super-powers include gluing back Ching Vases back together in record time
The Monolith- Mentor to the Dazed Duo, and provider of food
Our story begins in the warm and sunny city of The Roasted Beans..RBVILLE, if you will....our heroes were just aimlessly wandering the streets, as is their wont, randomly arguing about something which had caught one's fancy and not the others. Suddenly, the dazed duo super symbol flashes in the sky.
Verbose Kurien: Holy Smokes....
Nat-so-ver-Bose: That reminds me..you still have to pay me for all those....
Verbose-Kurien: Ohh!! Don't be so cheap!! We have important business to attend to!!! Quick...to the super secret hideout!!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: We don't have one!!!
Verbose-Kurien: Well then, to the house of the Monolith!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: Well then, lead the way!!!
Verbose Kurien: No, my friend, YOU get to lead the way!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: You mean you finally trust me enough to lead the way?? As in me in charge?? Really? Really?
Verbose Kurien: Not exactly..I forgot the way to the Mentor's house!!!
Meanwhile, at the Monolith's house, a sinister plot is afoot.
Enter the super-villainess...Frizzy Girl...holding the Mentor hostage, she awaits the entry of our two heroes on the scene..
Monolith: You will never get away with this..
Frizzy: You actually think those two proteges of yours will be able to rescue you from this peril??
Monolith: Firstly, what peril? You have gotten me in my own house, in my own armchair, with plenty of food around. Secondly, you are unarmed. And thirdly, those two goofs, while they are goofs, will manage to swing something.
Frizzy: My henchmen will take care of them. Henchmen!!! (man-mountains arrive)
Man-mountain 1: You called, meydam??
Frizzy: When the dazed duo arrive, take care of them!!
Man-mountain 2: Jee sahiba!!! Chai Vaai pila doonn??
Frizzy: NO YOU IDIOT!!! HURT THEM!!!! HURRRTTTT THEMMMMM!!!!!
Man-Mountai 1: Jee Sahiba!!! (they leave!!!)
Monolith: Fine pair of henchmen.....
Frizzy: Better than those two bumbling oafs of yours!!
Monolith: We shall see!!
Frizzy: SILENCE!!! This is portion for evil laugh. Muahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
Monolith: I am not afraid of you, or your henchmen...what can you do to me??
Frizzy: I can Bite!!!
Monolith:: Ulp!! HAALLLLLLPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Meanwhile, our two heroes, after a lot of bickering with an auto guy, have landed up at the house of their mentor. They Knock on the door..
Frizzy: Say you aren't home!!!
Monolith: What?? That doesn't make any...
Frizzy: (baring teeth) SAY IT!!!!!!!
Monolith: I'M NOT HOME!!! GO AWAY, AND DON'T COME BARGING IN AND HELP ME!!!
V-Dude: Okay..he is not home..what should we do now??
K-man: Boy, HE just said that he is not home, and that we should save him. Do you not get what that means??
V-Dude: We can go in and use his computer to find the emergency??
K-Man: Sometimes I wonder how you can have such little brains!! No, you bashibazook, it means that he is in trouble and needs our help. Quick, to the back gate..
Our heroes forcibly enter the house, loudly screaming, "EVIL DOERS BEWARE!!!!!!! THE DAZED DUO ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Frizzy: Henchmen, ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The two man-mountains depart to the back entrance..
BANG!!!CRASH!!!WHAM!!!KABOOMM!!!!OUCH!!!!BIFF!!!!BOPPP
Many sound effects later....our super-heroes arrive for the confrontation scene....
K-Man: Surrender, oh rough-haired one..we cannot be beaten!!
Frizzy: How did you manage to get past my henchmen?? How??
K-Man: We have our methods..
Frizzy: Those sounds were not you beating the living daylights out of them, were they??
V-Dude: Ofcourse not!! That was me falling into that pile of vessels which then fell and bonked your henchmen on the heads...
Monolith: (to the heavens) HOW??? WHY???? HOW AND WHY DO THEY ALL FIND ME????
V-dude: Surrender, enemy!! There is no way past me!!! K-Man, release the mentor while I take care of this one!!!!
Frizzy: HAH!!!! You take care of me?? Go home little boy...I know your secret fear....(produces a cock-roach) come any closer and I shall unleash it on you!!!!
V-Dude: EEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Frizzy: High-Pitched screams!! I can't handle them!!!!! (drops cockroach, which scurries away!!)
V-Dude: Who new being high-pitched had it's benefits??
K-Man and Monolith: We didn't!!!!
Emboldened by the elimination of his fear from the scene, V-Dude strides and picks up the arch-nemesis off from the floor, and ties her to the chair, after suitably gagging her!!! (Those teeth really hurt!!) K-man frees the mentor from the chair.
Monolith: Many thanks, Dazed Duo...you really came through today..V-Dude, I shall never make fun of your high-pitched tendencies ever again!!!
V-Dude: Really??
Monolith: Ofcourse I will....you jsut saved my life..it's not like you saved the country or something!!!
K-Man: We shall move on to bigger things!!Worry not sirrah. Wherever there be evil, there be the two of us to spread Justice's good name and make evil-doers repent (cue fanfare), to protect the innocent, to embolden the weak, to strengthen the meek, to defend the defenseless....
Monolith: Does he always carry on so much??
V-Dude: I am afraid so...should I interrupt him??
Monolith: You think he would even notice??
V-Dude: I doubt it!!
Monolith: Alright! Lunch?
V-Dude: Excellent suggestion!!! Lead the way Sirrah!!!
And so, we leave our heroes, knowing that as long as there are people who dare challenge the tandem, they will get the stuffing knocked out of them of course!!! And yes, K-Man did not notice that his sidekick and the mentor had left the room........................................as he continued his mission statement........................ending at 4 pm.............................................the next day.............
THE END
(Toot-toot-toot-tooot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
In our next episode, K-Man and V-Dude take on Grandmother Lady. Stay tuned for more of the Dazed Duo's adventures...until then...live long..and prosper!!!!!!!!!!!!!
V
The Characters::
K-Man: Mild-mannered, if highly verbose, college student by day.....turns into the dark and moustachioed K-Man, scourge of villains and dictionaries alike.
V-Dude: Bumbling, stumbling,Klutzy sidekick. Super-powers include gluing back Ching Vases back together in record time
The Monolith- Mentor to the Dazed Duo, and provider of food
Our story begins in the warm and sunny city of The Roasted Beans..RBVILLE, if you will....our heroes were just aimlessly wandering the streets, as is their wont, randomly arguing about something which had caught one's fancy and not the others. Suddenly, the dazed duo super symbol flashes in the sky.
Verbose Kurien: Holy Smokes....
Nat-so-ver-Bose: That reminds me..you still have to pay me for all those....
Verbose-Kurien: Ohh!! Don't be so cheap!! We have important business to attend to!!! Quick...to the super secret hideout!!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: We don't have one!!!
Verbose-Kurien: Well then, to the house of the Monolith!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: Well then, lead the way!!!
Verbose Kurien: No, my friend, YOU get to lead the way!!!
Not-so-ver-Bose: You mean you finally trust me enough to lead the way?? As in me in charge?? Really? Really?
Verbose Kurien: Not exactly..I forgot the way to the Mentor's house!!!
Meanwhile, at the Monolith's house, a sinister plot is afoot.
Enter the super-villainess...Frizzy Girl...holding the Mentor hostage, she awaits the entry of our two heroes on the scene..
Monolith: You will never get away with this..
Frizzy: You actually think those two proteges of yours will be able to rescue you from this peril??
Monolith: Firstly, what peril? You have gotten me in my own house, in my own armchair, with plenty of food around. Secondly, you are unarmed. And thirdly, those two goofs, while they are goofs, will manage to swing something.
Frizzy: My henchmen will take care of them. Henchmen!!! (man-mountains arrive)
Man-mountain 1: You called, meydam??
Frizzy: When the dazed duo arrive, take care of them!!
Man-mountain 2: Jee sahiba!!! Chai Vaai pila doonn??
Frizzy: NO YOU IDIOT!!! HURT THEM!!!! HURRRTTTT THEMMMMM!!!!!
Man-Mountai 1: Jee Sahiba!!! (they leave!!!)
Monolith: Fine pair of henchmen.....
Frizzy: Better than those two bumbling oafs of yours!!
Monolith: We shall see!!
Frizzy: SILENCE!!! This is portion for evil laugh. Muahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!
Monolith: I am not afraid of you, or your henchmen...what can you do to me??
Frizzy: I can Bite!!!
Monolith:: Ulp!! HAALLLLLLPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Meanwhile, our two heroes, after a lot of bickering with an auto guy, have landed up at the house of their mentor. They Knock on the door..
Frizzy: Say you aren't home!!!
Monolith: What?? That doesn't make any...
Frizzy: (baring teeth) SAY IT!!!!!!!
Monolith: I'M NOT HOME!!! GO AWAY, AND DON'T COME BARGING IN AND HELP ME!!!
V-Dude: Okay..he is not home..what should we do now??
K-man: Boy, HE just said that he is not home, and that we should save him. Do you not get what that means??
V-Dude: We can go in and use his computer to find the emergency??
K-Man: Sometimes I wonder how you can have such little brains!! No, you bashibazook, it means that he is in trouble and needs our help. Quick, to the back gate..
Our heroes forcibly enter the house, loudly screaming, "EVIL DOERS BEWARE!!!!!!! THE DAZED DUO ARE HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Frizzy: Henchmen, ATTACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The two man-mountains depart to the back entrance..
BANG!!!CRASH!!!WHAM!!!KABOOMM!!!!OUCH!!!!BIFF!!!!BOPPP
Many sound effects later....our super-heroes arrive for the confrontation scene....
K-Man: Surrender, oh rough-haired one..we cannot be beaten!!
Frizzy: How did you manage to get past my henchmen?? How??
K-Man: We have our methods..
Frizzy: Those sounds were not you beating the living daylights out of them, were they??
V-Dude: Ofcourse not!! That was me falling into that pile of vessels which then fell and bonked your henchmen on the heads...
Monolith: (to the heavens) HOW??? WHY???? HOW AND WHY DO THEY ALL FIND ME????
V-dude: Surrender, enemy!! There is no way past me!!! K-Man, release the mentor while I take care of this one!!!!
Frizzy: HAH!!!! You take care of me?? Go home little boy...I know your secret fear....(produces a cock-roach) come any closer and I shall unleash it on you!!!!
V-Dude: EEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Frizzy: High-Pitched screams!! I can't handle them!!!!! (drops cockroach, which scurries away!!)
V-Dude: Who new being high-pitched had it's benefits??
K-Man and Monolith: We didn't!!!!
Emboldened by the elimination of his fear from the scene, V-Dude strides and picks up the arch-nemesis off from the floor, and ties her to the chair, after suitably gagging her!!! (Those teeth really hurt!!) K-man frees the mentor from the chair.
Monolith: Many thanks, Dazed Duo...you really came through today..V-Dude, I shall never make fun of your high-pitched tendencies ever again!!!
V-Dude: Really??
Monolith: Ofcourse I will....you jsut saved my life..it's not like you saved the country or something!!!
K-Man: We shall move on to bigger things!!Worry not sirrah. Wherever there be evil, there be the two of us to spread Justice's good name and make evil-doers repent (cue fanfare), to protect the innocent, to embolden the weak, to strengthen the meek, to defend the defenseless....
Monolith: Does he always carry on so much??
V-Dude: I am afraid so...should I interrupt him??
Monolith: You think he would even notice??
V-Dude: I doubt it!!
Monolith: Alright! Lunch?
V-Dude: Excellent suggestion!!! Lead the way Sirrah!!!
And so, we leave our heroes, knowing that as long as there are people who dare challenge the tandem, they will get the stuffing knocked out of them of course!!! And yes, K-Man did not notice that his sidekick and the mentor had left the room........................................as he continued his mission statement........................ending at 4 pm.............................................the next day.............
THE END
(Toot-toot-toot-tooot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
In our next episode, K-Man and V-Dude take on Grandmother Lady. Stay tuned for more of the Dazed Duo's adventures...until then...live long..and prosper!!!!!!!!!!!!!
V
NEITHER JOY, NOR LOVE, NOR LIGHT...
“…the world which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light…”
Matthew Arnold’s powerful, powerful lines. Today is a weird day, my friends. It is the day of a State-Wide Bandh. Nothing moves, no one ventures outside except the foolhardy – and adventurous shop-owners. Buses operate on a skeletal service, vehicles are sequestered. And thus, on this day when nothing moves, I wake up late. I go make my coffee and sit down to read the news paper. I switch on the TV, but nothing’s on except grey everywhere. I continue to peruse the newspaper. News of Shashi Tharoor’s backing-down as a result of a US Veto boils my blood, but who am I to interfere…
And then it happens. I catch sight of another article. And my blood really boils. Every hair on my moustache quivers with an excess of moral indignation, every common-sense related neuron walks away, waving it’s tiny little neuronal fists in the air (or in the surrounding CSF, to be precise). It is a tale of woe, of sheer stupidity, of a nation so long on the alert that everyone seems an enemy, insiders and outsiders alike, everyone is subjected to a ruthless examination that is revolting in it’s closeness (both of approach and mindset).
A Tamilian. In an airport. In a country whose name I do not wish to take, but if I had to set a Crossword clue for it, it would go thus:
1A) Country of you and me? (2)
He waits for his plane, this innocent Tamilian, this Indian National. Waits for his plane to arrive, waits for the Tannoy announcements requesting everyone to board their planes. And then he feels a vibration: his phone is ringing. With legendary Indian speed, he whips out his cell-phone, recognises the number as that of an old school-friend. Pleasure makes lines across his face deepen as he answers.
The two friends talk excitedly in Tamil, about a School Reunion game (may have been Cricket). They get excited, our man arguing with his friend about the outcomes and the various nuances of the day's play.
He argues..
when he feels
cold steel fingers grip his shoulder...
He turns....
And looks
Into the eyes of a steely young Airport Official. He is politely requested to hang up, when he inquires (“Hey! Am I not allowed to talk on the phone??”), only to be told forcefully but politely to hang up, and accompany the steely young Airport Official. Shaken, our man obeys...
And is detained in the Airport strong room. Soon, a higher official walks in, sits down, demands from our shaken compatriot an explanation. Our man is nonplussed. And then the senior man explains.
It seems our man was making suspicious movements in the airport. HUH???? In reply to an obvious qustion, the senior official explains...
And soon the truth is out: the steely young Airport Official considered the rapid flow of Tamil emanating from our man's mouth to be extremely suspicious and therefore, performed the Airport Official's equivalent of a Citizen’s arrest. An explanation ensues, and soon the stupid blunder is revealed. A young official's over zealousness. And then comes the insult:
Realising the error, the senior official apologises, but not before everything has become public. He speaks to Press people, and says, “Nothing to worry. Mr So-and-so (whatever his name was) has provided an innocent, satisfactory explanation.”
JESUS H. CHRIST!! SATISFACTORY EXPLANATION???
WHAT THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? NOT TALK IN OUR MOTHER-TONGUES?
Does Tamil sound any different to someone ignorant of the language, than Swahili or Taiwanese??? Face it, this man was hauled because he looked suspicious. He looked Indian, which is the same as Saudi Arabian and Middle-Eastern in the West, both of which are synonyms for a word which I will not use here, but if I were to set a crossword clue for it, it would go thus:
2A) Play with TT? Error is radical. (9)
This is the ultimate fear. Not being able to let anyone speak in their mother tongue because it sounds suspicious to you. Why don’t you put up a make up stall outside? So we will all colour our skin lighter and why don’t you provide us with free accent-training, so we can all speak like you? Then there’ll be no suspicions. We’ll all be one big happy family.
And this is the country we are all going to, to study and make our fortunes. My god.
MY GOD.
To paraphrase,
“…the COUNTRY which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new…
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
Except the armies fight by day. And they are waiting, hankering, hungering for someone to grab, someone to incarcerate, someone to subdue. This is what we have come to. See and believe.
You decide.
K.
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light…”
Matthew Arnold’s powerful, powerful lines. Today is a weird day, my friends. It is the day of a State-Wide Bandh. Nothing moves, no one ventures outside except the foolhardy – and adventurous shop-owners. Buses operate on a skeletal service, vehicles are sequestered. And thus, on this day when nothing moves, I wake up late. I go make my coffee and sit down to read the news paper. I switch on the TV, but nothing’s on except grey everywhere. I continue to peruse the newspaper. News of Shashi Tharoor’s backing-down as a result of a US Veto boils my blood, but who am I to interfere…
And then it happens. I catch sight of another article. And my blood really boils. Every hair on my moustache quivers with an excess of moral indignation, every common-sense related neuron walks away, waving it’s tiny little neuronal fists in the air (or in the surrounding CSF, to be precise). It is a tale of woe, of sheer stupidity, of a nation so long on the alert that everyone seems an enemy, insiders and outsiders alike, everyone is subjected to a ruthless examination that is revolting in it’s closeness (both of approach and mindset).
A Tamilian. In an airport. In a country whose name I do not wish to take, but if I had to set a Crossword clue for it, it would go thus:
1A) Country of you and me? (2)
He waits for his plane, this innocent Tamilian, this Indian National. Waits for his plane to arrive, waits for the Tannoy announcements requesting everyone to board their planes. And then he feels a vibration: his phone is ringing. With legendary Indian speed, he whips out his cell-phone, recognises the number as that of an old school-friend. Pleasure makes lines across his face deepen as he answers.
The two friends talk excitedly in Tamil, about a School Reunion game (may have been Cricket). They get excited, our man arguing with his friend about the outcomes and the various nuances of the day's play.
He argues..
when he feels
cold steel fingers grip his shoulder...
He turns....
And looks
Into the eyes of a steely young Airport Official. He is politely requested to hang up, when he inquires (“Hey! Am I not allowed to talk on the phone??”), only to be told forcefully but politely to hang up, and accompany the steely young Airport Official. Shaken, our man obeys...
And is detained in the Airport strong room. Soon, a higher official walks in, sits down, demands from our shaken compatriot an explanation. Our man is nonplussed. And then the senior man explains.
It seems our man was making suspicious movements in the airport. HUH???? In reply to an obvious qustion, the senior official explains...
And soon the truth is out: the steely young Airport Official considered the rapid flow of Tamil emanating from our man's mouth to be extremely suspicious and therefore, performed the Airport Official's equivalent of a Citizen’s arrest. An explanation ensues, and soon the stupid blunder is revealed. A young official's over zealousness. And then comes the insult:
Realising the error, the senior official apologises, but not before everything has become public. He speaks to Press people, and says, “Nothing to worry. Mr So-and-so (whatever his name was) has provided an innocent, satisfactory explanation.”
JESUS H. CHRIST!! SATISFACTORY EXPLANATION???
WHAT THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? NOT TALK IN OUR MOTHER-TONGUES?
Does Tamil sound any different to someone ignorant of the language, than Swahili or Taiwanese??? Face it, this man was hauled because he looked suspicious. He looked Indian, which is the same as Saudi Arabian and Middle-Eastern in the West, both of which are synonyms for a word which I will not use here, but if I were to set a crossword clue for it, it would go thus:
2A) Play with TT? Error is radical. (9)
This is the ultimate fear. Not being able to let anyone speak in their mother tongue because it sounds suspicious to you. Why don’t you put up a make up stall outside? So we will all colour our skin lighter and why don’t you provide us with free accent-training, so we can all speak like you? Then there’ll be no suspicions. We’ll all be one big happy family.
And this is the country we are all going to, to study and make our fortunes. My god.
MY GOD.
To paraphrase,
“…the COUNTRY which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new…
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.”
Except the armies fight by day. And they are waiting, hankering, hungering for someone to grab, someone to incarcerate, someone to subdue. This is what we have come to. See and believe.
You decide.
K.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
THIS PLACE: A VITRIOLIC POEM
By
K
This place in which I presently live, this place in which I dwell:
This wasteland that people love to hate; and loathe and abhor as well,
This blasted patch, this cursed land on the outskirts of the city,
This place of very little pulchritude, and less’r electricity.
This godforsaken blasted place on the outskirts of the city,
Where the only people who smile at you, do so out of pity.
This place that no single person has any idea how to get to,
And when I try to tell them, we end up havin’ a set-to.
Most o’ my pals when asked to come say “It’s so friggin’ fa’!”
And one guy by the name of Sharma goes, “It’s a village, pa!”
And the buses are always chock-full with labourers and the like,
Asking someone to come home is like saying, “Take a hike.”
Any place in the city is too far to reach on time,
And when I do arrive, I’m so full of dirt and grime.
Which is not so surprising after two hours of standing
Crushed up against smelly people; all of them demanding
More space than they can get, so they can rest their arses,
And I even pay to do this! Yea! I pay for monthly passes.
There are no restaurants here, no bars or shopping malls,
Biharis own all the hardware stores, and Mallus own the stalls.
There are three colleges here, no less than seven schools,
There are four apartment blocks, all with swimming pools.
All the guys wear baggy pants and love hanging out of buses,
And rather than look at some of the girls, I’d marry platypuses.
Every time there’s a drop of rain, the electricity goes;
And the road become all muddy, to add to all my woes.
No Coffee Days, nowhere to relax, no nothing! And besides,
No Pizza place delivers here, curse their stinkin’ hides!
(Apparently they won’t come this side, ’cause they got police trouble.
My apologies to anyone from here, did I just burst a bubble?)
I don’t think I have to say anymore about this place where I am put up,
These many lines should have told the truth, so now’s the time to shut up.
And so, here ends this sad, sad tale of the place where I reside,
If anyone dares contradict me on this, I warn you, woe betide!
Any doubts you have I’ll try to clear, if it falls within my powers,
And anytime you want to meet me, give me a full two-an’-half hours!
This wasteland that people love to hate; and loathe and abhor as well,
This blasted patch, this cursed land on the outskirts of the city,
This place of very little pulchritude, and less’r electricity.
This godforsaken blasted place on the outskirts of the city,
Where the only people who smile at you, do so out of pity.
This place that no single person has any idea how to get to,
And when I try to tell them, we end up havin’ a set-to.
Most o’ my pals when asked to come say “It’s so friggin’ fa’!”
And one guy by the name of Sharma goes, “It’s a village, pa!”
And the buses are always chock-full with labourers and the like,
Asking someone to come home is like saying, “Take a hike.”
Any place in the city is too far to reach on time,
And when I do arrive, I’m so full of dirt and grime.
Which is not so surprising after two hours of standing
Crushed up against smelly people; all of them demanding
More space than they can get, so they can rest their arses,
And I even pay to do this! Yea! I pay for monthly passes.
There are no restaurants here, no bars or shopping malls,
Biharis own all the hardware stores, and Mallus own the stalls.
There are three colleges here, no less than seven schools,
There are four apartment blocks, all with swimming pools.
All the guys wear baggy pants and love hanging out of buses,
And rather than look at some of the girls, I’d marry platypuses.
Every time there’s a drop of rain, the electricity goes;
And the road become all muddy, to add to all my woes.
No Coffee Days, nowhere to relax, no nothing! And besides,
No Pizza place delivers here, curse their stinkin’ hides!
(Apparently they won’t come this side, ’cause they got police trouble.
My apologies to anyone from here, did I just burst a bubble?)
I don’t think I have to say anymore about this place where I am put up,
These many lines should have told the truth, so now’s the time to shut up.
And so, here ends this sad, sad tale of the place where I reside,
If anyone dares contradict me on this, I warn you, woe betide!
Any doubts you have I’ll try to clear, if it falls within my powers,
And anytime you want to meet me, give me a full two-an’-half hours!
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