Small Town-World View (My Cousin Series)

Some of the things that Private, MS and my cousin discussed were world issues. As this was 1970’s small town with no Internet or TV, everything was hearsay. The fact that they had never ventured more than 50 miles of our town, did not read newspapers or listened to someone who was even remotely informed resulted in very interesting observations:

There definitely would be a world war III. India and Russia would be on one side and Pakistan, America, China and England would be on other side (these were constantly changing alliances and there was no reasoning behind it). We will win because Lord Hanumanjee is on our side and Russians are 7 feet tall.

Never eat meat! If you do, you will immediately become a Muslim and becoming Hindu again will be very difficult. Once you become a Muslim, they will cut your penis (this was their understanding of circumcision). Do you want to be a penisless Muslim?

Japan is a great country to be a schoolboy. You don’t have to read any books. You just make radios in school and TV’s in high school.

Never marry a Luzkrakter (Loose character). Never fall in love with a Sikh or Muslim girl. Their families will kill you.

Never marry a very beautiful woman because all your friends then are not visiting “you”.

Never marry an ugly woman. Your own children will be scared of her and you will have ugly children.

Bengalis are brainy but weak. Gujaratis are good businessmen but cowards (Gandhi never beat one Firangi). All south Indians are Madrassis and all they eat is rice. Always respect a fat man because they generally represent good families and are wealthy. If stereotyping was an art form these were the greatest artists of times.

All white people were from America, England and Germany. I tried to tell them that I have heard about countries such as Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark etc. They would immediately dismiss me. “We are talking about countries and you are talking about cities.”

When a girl says no, she means yes. Because that’s how they are!

If you want to find out if a girl is in love with you, all you have to do is shoulder bump her. If she smiles at you, she is in love with you. The details after that were sketchy but it involved giving a love letter as soon as possible. Because if you delay that part, someone else might shoulder bump her and she might become someone else’s.

Never trust or follow a person with toes in the back and heel in front. They are ghosts.

Empowerment videos/ BS and then some

Recently there was a video made by Vogue in partnership with Bollywood star, Deepika apparently about women empowerment. I am a strong supporter of equal rights for all. The video though is over the top, confused and frankly re-emphasize female stereotype. As a man, I am trying to go sentence by sentence and put my spin on it.

Vid: My Body! My mind! My choice! To wear the clothes I like as my spirit roams naked.

Me: I tried the same exact thing. But neighbors complained and yada yada yada, now I have to keep clothes on.

Vid: My choice! To be a size zero or 15. They don’t have a size for my spirit and never will.

Me: Is that why Clooney, Damon, DiCaprio, Depp and Pitt always land those sexiest man alive pseudo-awards? Must be because of their size 15! Double!

VID: To use cotton and silk to trap my soul is to believe you can hold expansion of universe or capture sunlight in the palm of your hand.

Me: That sentence is so BS that I won’t even bother to respond. If I stand at a street corner and say things like that, I will be in a Psych facility in no time.

Vid: Your mind is caged, let it free. My body is not, let it be.

Me: You seem to be talking about either LSD, Mushrooms or Pot. Just don’t break any law!

Vid: My choice to marry or not to marry. To have sex before marriage, outside marriage or not to have sex.

Me: Some of my brethren men also expressed themselves in the same manner, by having sex outside marriage. Now their wives and attorneys have cleaned them out, they are homeless and living in a Motel6. So please extend same courtesy to my peeps.

Vid: My choice to lust temporarily or to love forever.

Me: You can always fake lust as love. Win Win!

Vid: My choice to love a man, a woman or both.

Me: As men, most of our fantasies involve women with other woman. So please go ahead and spare us no details.

Vid: Remember you are my choice; I am not your privilege.

Me: Remember it was your choice to sleep with that clown, Ranbir Singh. Don’t blame all men for your own bad choices.

Vid: Bindi on my forehead, ring on my finger and adding your surname to my name. They are ornaments. It can be replaced, my love for you cannot be. So treasure that.

Me: I totally agree. That’s why I don’t do a bindi, ring or the surname thing.

Vid: My choice. To come home at 4 am and don’t be fooled if I come home at 6pm.

Vid: So then don’t bitch if we come home at 4 am and go out again after coming home at 6 pm.

Vid: My choice to have your baby or not.

Me: My choice to impregnate you or not! No pressures.

Vid: To pick you from 7 billion choices or not.

Me: Are we freaking including children, al-Qaeda, Putin and people in coma as well.

Vid: So don’t get cocky. My pleasure may be your pain. My songs your noise. My order your anarchy. Your sins, my virtues.

Me: Did you really have to pay someone to write this crap? This is as nonsensical as; my sugar may be your salt. My apple your orange. My head your feet. Your body odor my fragrance.

Vid: My choices are like my fingerprints. They make me unique.

Me: My fingerprints are not even my choices. So what the heck does that make me?

Vogue, just because you shot the video in black and white and added some classical Indian music at the start does not make it “classy”.

Bathing and such luxuries in 1970’s small town India


A Lifebuoy soap broken in half with a hammer. This was done to “save money” by housewives.

One of the things I remember growing up in India was bathing and washing products. The first memories of any soap I have are of Lifebuoy. This was not the type of Lifebuoy soap in some fancy wrapper you see now days. It was a no-nonsense hardcore tool. It was pretty much a red rectangular thick brick. It used to produce very minimal foam if any. I think the plan was to rub it vigorously against skin so that top layer would peel by sheer friction. This torturous activity was carried out in all households with children at least 2-3 times weekly.

The children protested it and based on their method of protest could be categorized as screamers, hiders, biters, spitters and cursers. But the soap them ruled all was Lifebuoy. Though highly unlikely that any kind of dirt will escape Lifebuoy’s vigorous rubbing, there was also a rock specifically designed to get rid of that stubborn dirt that even Lifebuoy could not get off.


Yes, it was a cooking oil as well!

After the bath, the body was massaged with mustard oil. Those of you who never had this soul scorching experience, just imagine a yellow colored, foul-smelling thick viscous grease. This thing adhered to anything it was applied to. And applied it was! It was rubbed in hair, to face and whole body.

The torture did not end there. After this there was Kajal (mascara) applied to eyes, which was equivalent of water boarding for a child. If you never had the pleasure of this experience, imagine being 5-6 years old, being held down by all fours, someone forcing your eyes open and slithering a black powder inside your eyelids. It was applied to both boys and girls eyes. After this a black dot was put on forehead or face to protect one from evil spirits. There was also a black string tied around waste for the same reason. Only after all these things were done in this particular sequence, you were ready to face the world.


This is what was used to beat the clothes.

The washing soap was even more hardcore. It was a thick rock looking slab. It produced no foam. Women (no men ever washed clothes) continued to rub it against clothes and beat the heck out of clothes with a cricket bat like wooden slab called Thapi. In fact women were very happy that this soap lasted so long. I honestly believe that this was another cruel joke played on women by men. This thing was no soap, just looked like one.

This was creepy as hell!

Once in a while we were taken to barbershop. Rather we were conned into going there. We were made to believe that we are going to get some sweets/toys. Once we realized the con, most of us started to scream, cry and run away. But it was too late. The shops had one person whose job was to hold kid down while “master” did the cutting part.

At times your barber could be a trainee. This could result in some real unfortunate results. Grandmothers got very mad when they saw what has been done to apple of their eyes. As all grandmothers believed that their grandson was the best looking kid, they walked right to shop and told the shop owner what they thought about them. The “master” would try to fix trainees misdeeds and occasionally slap him a couple of times too.

Mars, Baba, Untouchable and Science

mythologyAt this time even PM is upset. He confronts right wingers. What exactly do you want? They remind him that he is one of them. Now just because he has become a PM, he should not talk about nonsense like science, secularism and all being equal etc. But how will I run the country? I have made promises to voters. Country will do well if you can find a way to get rid of minorities or make laws to convert them all to our religion. PM has decided to change his shirt to a pacifist white.

Baba now informs that Pandit would not share the same space with untouchable. He wants everything washed with gangajal (water from holy river Ganges). Minister of higher education informs that women’s rights groups want a very qualified scientist to be on the mission. The scientist unfortunately happens to be a woman. Baba would definitely not allow a woman on the mission. This could lead to lustful ideas. What if she wears lust inducing clothes.

But feminists want a woman. Baba goes wild. Are those the women who …you know…with other women. No, those are lesbians. Feminists are just asking for equal rights. This somewhat calmed Baba though he still could not understand what more women want. They are driving and voting already.

The committee meets again. It appears male scientist will have to be bumped off the mission. They need a minority. But Pandit feels “they” can never be trusted. What if “they” hijack the rocket and land in our eternal enemy country. Scientist has even stopped pretending that anything he says matters. Baba encourages Pandit that may be he can carry out a religious conversion of minority to majority during the mission. It will be a successful mission if he can. Pandit is somewhat happy. He insists that woman will have to live separately. She also better not have menses because that will contaminate the whole mission.

During this minister of higher education has been keeping a low profile. She is very sensitive to her lack of higher education. In fact she has pretty much no education. She had been made minister for playing a traditional housewife on a long running soap opera. At one time she claimed that she had a degree from Yale but when she called it Yalley it got exposed mercilessly. She came with a wonderful idea. What if we upgrade untouchable to Pandit just for the mission. We can change his last name to a Pandit type name. As soon as we get back, we will demote him back to dalit. Pandit blew up. Are you telling me that anyone can be put in the same category as me. God makes Pandits, China makes everything else.

PM is now realizing that when you sleep with devil, sooner or later devil will ask for a blowjob. He just sits there with his head down while Baba, Pandit and minister go about the business of ruining…err.. running science and country.

My Cousin-Sex Education

questionMy cousin asked me, if I know about “it”. I asked him about “what”. He asked if I know how girls are different. As I was 10, I told him that apart from being annoying they are just like us. He shook his head. But why are they girls and you are a boy? Because god wanted it that way. You are an idiot, aren’t you. That’s the problem with you city types. You don’t know anything about real life. He was real frustrated. (In 70-80’s small town India there was no sex education. It was a taboo that nobody spoke about. Society did very best to decline existence of sex).

He changed his tactics. Do you know how babies are made. I told him parents pray and they get what they want. If they are real lucky they get boys. But where do they come from? To repeatedly not sound like an idiot I told him what I knew. I had heard somewhere that there is an umblical cord. I assumed that babies come from mom’s umblicus.He just kept on staring at me. What is it that you learn in those city schools?

He got write down to work. He drew some real disgusting sketches and crude drawings. They were so bad and not even remotely close to what you will call “reproductive organs” that even god could not have identified them. I told him so. He got real angry this time. Is there anything that you city types know?

He realized that there is no point going around in circles with me. He asked me what vagina is. I told him is it something to do with Japan. “You idiot, that’s where the babies come from”. No, they come from umbilicus. And besides how do they get in there in the first place.

“You really are an idiot”. He tried to find out if there was a cow giving birth on nearby farms. So he can show me a live birth. I told him that I have no interest in any such thing. But then how would you know about vagina. I had no idea that you needed to watch a live cow birth to find out this vagina thing.

His next idea was to show me a “magazine”. This was a very strange magazine. Most of the pages were glued together. I asked him why are they glued together. He said something like “beggars can’t be choosers”. As soon as I opened first page, I realized it was a “dirty” magazine. I immediately closed my eyes and told him that I am not going to look at dirty things. This time he got really mad.

“What is your real problem? Why don’t you want to learn anything new. Do you want to end up like that farmer from 3 farms down who did not know what “it” was and went childless simply because he did not know about “it”.


Come On! Common Man.

commonman1 Every time I watch news, listen to radio or read, the one entity that keeps on popping up is “common man”. He goes by various names; Aam Admi (common man), average American, British public or Canadian depending on where you are. Whether it is new budget, government, elections, taxes or any major tragedy, common man is at center of it all.

A politician getting an $800 hair cut to a screaming talk show host are all concerned about common man. They scream, question and mentally masturbate constantly about common man. The common man for them is an addiction, necessity, commodity, a damsel in distress and ultimate aphrodisiac.

common man

Common man in fact doesn’t even know what is going on most of the time. Aam Admi (Common man) is busy watching trashy Bollywood movies, “who killed who TV serials” and passionately discussing them next day. An average American is busy watching sports, drinking beer and dating/hooking up/breaking up/marrying/divorcing/ and dating again. If religion is opium for masses, sports are opium for average American. British Public is generally more focused on next bowel movement and I have no idea what Canadians do (stereotyping is purely intentional).

If life expectancy went up, common man is happy. But wait.. it will come at higher insurance rates and expensive premiums, common man is unhappy. If his tax rate went down, he is happy. But wait..Sales tax went up. So he is unhappy. He found that 65% off sale, he is happy. But wait..They won’t let him use another 20% coupon with it, he is unhappy. He changes from happiness to unhappiness more frequently than lady Gaga changes her wigs.

Common man does not want a whole lot. He wants a job, safety, functioning government, trashy entertainment, may be some free porn and get laid once in a while. What he really does not want is all kinds of petty politicians and screaming talking heads telling him what he really wants. See, understanding common man is like “what women really want”.





A star is depressed -3

The star was darling of all media now. She was getting front page of every tabloid and magazine. To respect her “depressed” state, most of these covers had her in either whites or blacks with contrasting backgrounds to capture the “depression” perfectly. She was described as most courageous person in the country and possibly in world. Every TV station had her interview in which she claimed, “I did not even know for a long period of time”. She was also doing it for millions of others, as “being a star is huge responsibility”.

Tabloids claimed she is depressed because she has gone from dating a billionaire to a talentless clown. They were sure that anyone would be depressed if they woke up every morning next to this clown.

The star was thankful to her parents, boyfriend, fans, media, co-stars, producers, make-up man, hair stylist, fans (again), women of the country, women of the world and ..Telecasters cut her and started running ads at this time.

The feminists immediately blamed society, sexism, male chauvinism and persistent objectification of women for her depression. The government recognized official existence of depression. The “modern” Indian women also claimed that they have been depressed even before the star. First time the most stigmatized of medical practitioner, the butt of countless jokes, Psychiatrist even became fashionable. Their children were no more ashamed to tell their friends what their parents did.

The greatest Indian of modern times, Baba Kamdev who apart from being a Baba was also a yogi, healer, scholar, scientist, social reformer and a businessman announced that he will be more than happy to spend time with star and treat her depression with natural means. Baba seems to have mastered treatment of every possible condition a female star could have.

Over the top Indian Media wanted to get to bottom of this. They wanted to know if everything is well between her and her parents, her boyfriend, her ex boyfriend and her next boyfriend. Is she pregnant? Does she wants to be pregnant? Does she want to be pregnant and can’t get pregnant? Why can’t she be pregnant? When will she be pregnant? Is her career going downhill? Is she getting too old at 28 for her male co-stars of 50? They had a depression specialist, a woman specialist and an astrologer on the panel. The astrologer was very sure that she would come out of depression once planet Saturn crosses out of path of planet Venus. But she could come out of it faster if she starts wearing a brown emerald in a silver ring in middle finger of left hand.