National Integration? Really?

I came across perhaps the most pathetic joke a few days back. Or atleast I thought it was a joke until our dear “news” channels confirmed it. Delhi 6 had won the National Film Award for promoting National Integration or some such bullshit. Kudos to people who decide these awards. Yet another behind the scenes string pulling by “secular” people in their most veiled and really absurd attempt at appeasement.

Apparently, Delhi 6 is a cerebral movie which subtly exposes the double standards of our society, its insecurities and of course the darkness inside – aptly named  Kaala Bandar. And yet it celebrates its pluralism and all inclusiveness. Well, this is what it appears to be. In reality it is a biased movie which mocks Hinduism and Hindus while carefully avoiding to look at the other side of the coin. It takes a totally biased approach towards issues and projects Hindus as primitive, non-progressive, hostile idiots.

One look at the characters of the movie and it cements this fact. The Muslim halwai Mamdu is a happy go lucky Hanuman Bhakt. The wisest person in the whole settlement is Ali Beg Sahab who gave up the love of his life(a Muslim girl) for his Hindu best friend. These two characters are portrayed as nothing else but angels. No problems with such projections of people. The real problem begins when all Hindu characters are shown as thick headed, illiterate bigots. Everyone except our hero and heroine has grey or black character traits.

The two warring Hindu brothers are Muslim hating and taunt the hero for his Muslim roots. The Hindu Lala is a creep who marries a much younger woman. All the Hindu women are brainless, submissive adarsh bharatiya naaris who don’t think or talk beyond kitchen, marriage and religeon while the lone Muslim woman character(hero’s mother) is a well educated, progressive lady. Muslim maulvis are peace loving advocates of harmony while Hindus are either tantriks or dhongi babas. Only Hindu leaders flame and take advantage of communal tensions. And wherever they appear in the movie, they are shown with a derogatorily mocking premise.

The riots are almost one sided in the movie with Hindus as unruly, hymn chanting, superstitious, completely faith blinded arsonists, and Muslims as hapless victims. This picture is completed with the premise that our hero’s Hindu father left India after marrying a Muslim girl as he could not withstand the backlash of his family in particular and Hindus of the area in general. But no mention of how the girl’s side reacted(as if they would have let him live in peace).

Although I never disagree with portrayel of the ills of Hindu religeon – the Shabri-Jalebi paradox, unnecessary cow worship etc., what hurts is the completely biased approach against Hinduism. This film may have been awarded for national integration but actually, it is against its spirit. If anything, this films feeds Muslims their worst fears and stereotypes of Hinduism, thrives on their insecurities  and does more damage than good.

It is a sad trend in cinema and media where Hinduism is a soft target for every tom dick harry. Want to make a “critically acclaimed movie”? Take an oppressed Muslim,  throw in evil, scheming Hindus, show Muslim persecution in most gruesome manner and then add some lectures on all religeons being one and all that crap. Voila! You get international recognition, national awards, this and that. Let country’s image take a beating. Let your own religeon be the fall guy. Show complete bias to please and lick international bums. Case in point – Parzania, Dharm, Mr. & Mrs. Aiyyar and almost all the “issue based” movies on Gujarat riots. Wonder if anyone has the courage to come up with a movie on those sixty people who were burnt alive in Godhra? Or even a balanced approach with these issues. Waiting for such a movie or documentary. Adios.

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A Random Shift

Now shifting to Crapotopia. From now, all the crap will be found there.

The SOUTH EXperience

SouthEx – one of the richest areas in the country. Cool. Advanced. Happening. Living in the NCR for past four years, I have heard a lot about SouthEx and its awesomeness. Everybody around me had been going gaga over it all these years. Every weekend people would flock to SouthEx and its adjoining areas to hang out and have a good time. The favoured destinations being its market and Select Citywalk, Saket. And of course the usual Qutab Minar and all that stuff. Surprisingly, I was never curious about it.

The reasons behind my lack of interest in SouthEx being – my general hatred of Delhi’s bus service (city buses being the only way to reach there for people like me), lack of interest in malls and markets (I suck at being social) and of course who wants to visit such a place with only hundred bucks in his pocket? (that being the zenith of the cash surplus in the credit based economy which I have built around myself).

However, I was bitten by a new bug at the start of this year – the Deutsch bug or for laymen, a sudden desire to learn the German language fuelled by my nine year old interest in the Second World War, repeated viewings of Inglourious Basterds, Schindler’s List & The Pianist, the seductive German accent of Diane Kruger in Inglourious Basterds and a pseudo-intellectual urge to read and understand Franz Kafka. So I ended up at the Inlingua centre in SouthEx Part I. There I was at a place about which I had never been curious and suddenly I was spending a large part of my weekend there.

As with most of my endeavours, I concentrated more on things around me than the task at hand. With all the hype about SouthEx, I had imagined it to be some sort of Indian Times Square or whatever. It was not. But yes, it was different. As I entered SouthEx, all I could see was flyovers, eight lane roads, shopping plazas, malls and corporate offices on either side of the road. Cars, from a Maruti 800 to the latest Audi and even a Hummer zipping by as if there was no tomorrow and the sheer indifference of people towards one another. Everybody running around stopping only to shop or wait for buses.

So, there was this insane pace of life, there were cool shopping outlets if you are loaded, there were cars and there were girls – all those things which make guys visit the place again and again. But again, everything was over hyped. Guys would go on and on and on about super hot girls on SouthEx roads, its high cool quotient, as if it was some super model contest venue. In reality, I could see auntyjis in figure hugging jeans trying to replace Priyanka Chopra on the Levi’s Diva billboards, college girls covered from head to toe to save themselves from ultraviolet rays of the noon summer sun, people waiting and abusing at the bus stop, a bunch of foreigners finding it exotic to roam about in Indian dresses which even we Indians don’t wear, atleast not in our daily hustle, the general chaos typical to any market, people desperately trying to converse in English (I went to a language centre), but yes, most of the people better dressed. But I am yet to see a girl in bra top and hot pants sipping nariyal paani as described by some of my over enthusiastic mates.

One thing which was conspicuous by its absence was the Hindi language – couldn’t see it anywhere except on sarkari bank boards and road signs. Another indicator that it is an advanced area. Even that Prince Refrigerated Cold Water wallah had its cart painted in English letters. No, wait, there was this Chandni Chowk Saaree Sale – Chandni Chowk ke daam ab SouthEx mein bhi, establishing once and for all that being in SouthEx means you have to be loaded and get ripped off if you don’t buy saarees there. Consumerism and the real face of globalisation come alive in SouthEx, with every major bank, restaurant chain, lifestyle store etc having its outlet there. In fact it is the face of our country which we like to project.

However, beneath all this, as with every city in the world, lies an underbelly. At SouthEx it is the underpass. There one can see where the firangs get their inspiration for making movies like Slumdog Millionaire and City Of Joy. I could see all the stereotypes there – a charasi/smackiya lying in a dark corner as if he was dead, women with small children gearing up for their daily shift of sympathy begging, two drunk men having a brawl, numerous shani baba spots(utensils full of mustard oil and iron) on Saturdays, various shades of babas shouting various chants, a tweenager lying stoned and people like us passing through all this murkiness with total nonchalance to manage the shit in our own lives. It’s all a part of life here, isn’t it? Or everywhere?

Thus, SouthEx, even though it is rich and vibrant, is no different from other parts of the country where everything co-exists with everything else. A Maruti & a Hummer, a blind beggar & a Ray Ban wearing 15 year old, a lower middle class behenji waiting for her bus to Shahadara & a 20-something pretty young thing flashing her newly gifted Hyundai Accent, a 14 year old navel baring wannabe supermodel & a middle aged saleswoman, swanky shopping malls selling water at 25 bucks a bottle & our very own Prince Refrigerated Cold Water doing the same for 1 buck a glass, a Volkswagen showroom & the parking commotion in front of it – everything works here.

Ultimately I was laughing at how people around me tend to create hype about things they experience for the first time and instead of enjoying every bit of it they concentrate on really mundane things. Anyways, my weekly visits there for two months were worth the time, energy and money I spent as they gave me a chance to observe and experience one of the best places in the country. Adios.

Babewatching In Gorakhpur

My long stays at home over the past year have given me ample opportunities to do certain really strange things. My mind, due to my state of permanent idleness has become a Devil’s Workshop. And what a great workshop it is! I mean other than watching gangsta flicks, contemplating on the current state of world politics, providing solutions to all of the world’s problems by making elaborate plans to blow up certain politicians both in India and abroad and ranting about the permanent shitty state of Indian Television, I have had many chances of loafing around in Gorakhpur – my very dear little home city. And since there is not much to do here when you are roaming alone, I have resorted to entertain myself by doing the obvious thing for a single brown alpha male – Babewatch. Yeah you read it right. Babewatching  In Gorakhpur (This is for those who must be thinking “WTF?” at this point).

Not that there is anything special about it or I want to make a point. It’s just that I have read a lot about girls in Delhi, Mumbai or other such happening places and they have never interested me. Staying in NCR for past four years I have done a lot of things but this. It is perhaps my own sense of not belonging there and very limited socializing skills that have prevented me from doing so. And also, there are things far more interesting and better for me there. Add to this my homesickness. So I have come up with my very own observation of girls in Gorakhpur. And these observations may be true for perhaps any other non-metro city in India.

After much observation, contemplation and certain repeated experiments, I have categorized them into three types. And this observation is based on how they fare on their own on the city roads. Thus I have taken into account their body language, mode of transport (yes, that is an important one), accent, confidence exhibited by them and of course, certain gut feelings. A word of caution – this is not meant to be definitive and certainly not exact. Crossovers and hybrids from various categories abound. And yes I might have missed some trait too. All I have tried is generalizing them a bit.

Type 1

The girl in this category is what guys would prefer to call maal. Generally from an affluent background, she zip zap zooms in the city on her brand new TVS Scooty. Usually clad in branded jeans and latest design tops, she is the eye candy for boys. She is exuberant, supremely confident, ambitious and equivalent to the metro girls. She knows that Harry Potter is a book before a movie and usually shows off her thinking side by reading Chetan Bhagat and Paulo Coelho (why the hell people read him is beyond my understanding). To balance things, I must say that Sidney Sheldon (another ”WTF?” author. I would rather read Vardi Wala Gunda by Ved Prakash Sharma.) and Agatha Christy too. She is the reason why Student’s Corner and Venus Book Stall keep Femina, Debonair and Mills & Boon in their stock. She must have seen Titanic umpteen times and is a sucker for the likes of Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt. And yes, that Ronan Keating and Madonna too. To sum up, she is the quintessential Babli from that shitty movie Bunty Aur Babli – held back only because of social constraints. Once unleashed, there is no stopping her. Usually found at malls, shopping complexes and restaurants. Mainly from schools like LFS, St. Joseph’s, St. Paul’s etc.

Unique Act – The strange habit of constantly pulling down her top to cover her waist. Makes me go ROFLMAO. Modern yet subtle. Daring, but in right spirits. I like that.

Type 2

The girl in this category is perhaps the most common one in the city. She is found in every strata of the society here. Clad in best of salwar kameez, she can be seen on rickshaws,scooters and bicycles. No less spirited or daring than Type 1, she is a bit mellow and can be instantly identified as a small town girl. She is intelligent, soft-spoken, eyes on the ground type. But don’t dare underestimate or misunderstand her. All that is a mask behind which is hidden a raging fire. Makes her mark wherever she goes, whenever she gets a chance. Usually has an over protective brother or father or khadoos folks at home and this may be the reason for the mellowness. Tastes in movie, books, music etc. are more or less similar to Type 1. Add Grihshobha, Meri Saheli, songs from Ashiqui, other overtly romantic Nadeem-Shravan-Kumar Sanu songs, K-serials and Colors to that list. Just remember Hrishita Bhatt’s character in Haasil and you will know what I am talking about. And as I said, she is found almost everywhere, so no specific hotspots for her.

Unique Act – The way she sits on a rickshaw clad in salwar kameez, wearing goggles, handling her  dupatta. Attitude literally overflows from her face. The mellower version is without goggles looking at the ground with a sort of apprehension on her face. I find her cute.

Type 3

For the lack of better words, I would call her the typical behenji or behenji in the making. She is the perfect embodiment of the so called small town girl. No disrespect intended. She is usually from the lower strata of the society and has a restricted lifestyle especially because of her over cautious, less educated guardians who think out of sync with the times. Well, this is what I think anyways.  She can be found in most of the schools and colleges in the city. Usually commutes on bicycles and public transport. Does not know books beyond what she has to read and movies beyond Housefull. And yes, Grihlakshmi and Balika Vadhu. Standard Bollywood stuff is what she knows about music. And Mills & Boon have come up with Hindi translations of their books especially for this demographic. Movie reference – any hero’s sister in any hindi movie throughout 70s, 80s and 90s. Can be seen at AD Chauraha, St. Andrews and oh yes, Gorakhpur  University.

Unique Act – This, I have observed in younger ones. The way they keep adjusting their skirts while riding on their bicycles. Another ROFLMAO act for me. But impressive no matter what.

So this is my take on girls in Gorakhpur. And as I have said earlier, this is just my humble opinion and not definitive in any way. And I have given examples from schools as I don’t know much about college life in Gorakhpur and my observations have been made since my school days. In fact I personally know a lot of girls from Type 1 and Type 2 from my school (LFS). Not because I am some sick creep who leers at school girls. Adios. 

Hail Movies!

As I have been repeatedly saying, I am a frustrated soul. As an aftermath of my loss in interest in engineering and anything remotely related to it – the college, studies, college people etc., I have forced myself to spend these last days here in isolation. Actually, I have been living with my laptop for last six months or so, biding my time. And no, I have not created a heavyweight software (the kind you see in movies like The Recruit or Die Hard 4.0 where a bunch of nerds sit all day with computers and shake the whole world with their mumbo jumbo and also find time to hang out, drink loads of beer, have wild sex and pass out) or hacked into China’s Government websites. What I have done? Well, here is what I have done – download movies (HOW COOL! I AM A CRIMINAL!), watch movies, read about movies, write about movies, researching about movies and of course, Facebooking.

Watching movies has been my passion since I have come to my senses. The technological advances, my growing up, easy accessibility and exposure to the best in movies are the factors which have contributed to them becoming an integral part of my life, my cul de sac, beyond which I do not move. Movies are my opium, my cocaine, my marijuana, my beedi or whatever. They are so much a part of my system that I cannot imagine myself without watching atleast one movie in two days. Back to back movie marathons are a norm for me. I am happy, I watch a movie. I am sad, I watch a movie. I am depressed, I watch a movie. I cannot go out, I watch a movie. I don’t socialize, I watch a movie. My idea of a perfect weekend – chicken + 6 movies (4 crime and 2 comedies – the Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen types). Better than having a girlfriend. Personal experience. Good for me.

There is so much out there in the movie world. A whole universe to navigate, explore and conquer. From the old world charm of Chalti Ka Naam Gaadi and Casablanca, to the modern The Dark Knight and Kaminey. From Satyajit Ray to Vishal Bhardwaj. From Francis Ford Coppola to Christopher Nolan. From Quentin Tarantino’s extreme violence to Adam Sandler’s slapstick humour. From the very basic Citizen Kane to the visual effects heavy Avatar. From Mogambo to The Joker. From Orson Wells to Leonardo DiCaprio. From Martin Scorsese to Ram Gopal Verma. From Mean Streets to Satya. From From the standard hindi potboilers to Rahul Bose type intellectual cinema. From the subtlety of movies like Dil Chahta Hai to the loud Andaz Apna Apna. And obviously – Robert De Niro, Al Pacino and Amitabh Bachchan (fanboy speak). I can go on and on. Just don’t get me started on movies.

The reason I am writing this today is that I have my exams tomorrow (though not of a very important nature) and its almost midnight and I have not studied anything. I didn’t even know which subject exam I have tomorrow until today evening. But yes, I watched three movies back to back throughout the day – Dick Tracy (pulp Hollywood, watched because of Al Pacino, nothing else), Khalnayak (watched an out an out masala potboiler after several months) and A History Of Violence (looks deeply into the psychology behind violence). Was planning for a fourth movie but chose to write instead.

Don’t know why I wrote all this. I am not bragging certainly. Maybe I had a desire to update this blog or maybe I am contemplating over my current situation where even exams have ceased to scare me. My ultimate state of fruitlessness and my desire to revolt against the system maybe. Don’t know. Don’t want to know. Movies rock. Everything else may goto hell. Especially the useless studies. Atleast for next one month. Going to watch Yesterday was A Lie (a neo noir fantasy). Adios.

Just An Article

Well, I had submitted this for the college magazine. It was my first serious attempt at writing something. The article made it to the magazine though I had to cut it short and it was edited a bit even then (more because of space constraints maybe). Here I am posting the uncensored version.

WARNING : Lengthy Post !

An Article

Sorry for the lame title. I could not come up with something more imaginative or exciting. Its after much pestering by my good friend Luv who was collecting articles for the magazine, that I’ve sit down to write something. I was completely clueless what to write until he called me a useless git for not standing upto his expectations (don’t know for what reasons he expects something from me). So if you are reading this in the magazine, its more because of my connections or jugaad rather than its literary merit. Anyways, why should you or me give a damn about it?

Right now I am asking myself the same question which I asked Luv. “What should I write?”. And trust me, I am still totally clueless. Should I jot down my musings. Nah. To call them musings would be an insult to everybody’s intellect. Let me call them ramblings of my mind. Stupid, incoherent, random  thoughts which run astray in my head 24*7. I mean, who cares for them. Everybody in my demographic profile has his or her own set of problems, hopes, dreams, expectations and whatever else. They are more or less the same for everyone with minor variations. “saari daulat saari taaqat, saari duniya par hukumat, bas itna sa khwab hai”. Well its Radio Mirchi playing in the background. 90s Not Out.

So what is new about all this? The answer is simple. Nothing. There have been billions like us in the past. There are billions like us in the present. And there will be billions like us in the future. The only thing new is the individual behind these dreams. And that individual (you and me) is the one who matters the most. But this person is stuck or lost today. What do you expect from anyone in his late teens or early twenties who feels trapped in college and is desperately waiting for that elusive one big chance to prove himself or herself?

There is this frustration and anger inside the hearts and minds of any average youth. This is commonly dismissed as misplaced youth angst, typical rebellious nature of the new blood which is supposed to calm down as one experiences life with age. It’s a common phenomenon in each period of history and in every society around the world. I am frustrated. I am angry. Is there a shame in admitting this? What is wrong with it? Well if you are of my age, reading this and smiling right now feeling that whatever I am saying is wrong, then you are a hypocrite. And within the shallow depths of your heart, you know this.

Now, why this frustration? Why this anger? Is it cool? That’s why? I don’t think so. This is so because it affects us. Directly or indirectly. Look around yourself. Nothing is perfect. The society. The world. The politics. The economy. The roads. Not even my favourite movies. Each and everything is full of flaws. Well that’s the way its meant to be. Isn’t it? Perfection is not a human attribute. It can never be. Even God isn’t perfect. Else He wouldn’t have created this mayhem. Whatever. What do you expect Him to create in six days anyways? Then why the hell I am angry over all this? There is a perpetual talk that it’s the youth who changes the society and brings the difference. What difference? A Marxian or Gandhian utopia where everyone is equal, no one sleeps hungry and there is peace and quiet all around? What are we? Miss Universe contestants? That’s impossible. What would the world be without all its problems?

Every revolution has been brought about by the youth with its own utopian dreams. And history is the witness that nothing changes for long. Rich remain rich. Poor remain poor or get poorer. Guns still sell. Drugs still find their way into desired alleys. Problems remain lurking in the background. Everything deteriorates slowly and then – back to square one. The youth who fought for freedom – whatever they envisioned, it wasn’t this which is happening in the present. Terrorism, communalism, regionalism, the ever increasing rich-poor divide, consumerism going out of bounds and other such things.

In the 1970s the youth played a pivotal role in raising a storm in the Indian political scenario. Millions joined the movement started by Jaiprakash Narayan to bring “socialism”. Normal people with normal aspirations just like us. People from rich families gave up their luxuries to reside in forests joining the Naxalite movement (shown beautifully in Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi. Kay Kay Menon’s character.). For what? Social justice? Equality? Socialism? What was the end result? Just look at the current crop of leaders in UP and Bihar. They are the products of that era. Pathetic. Isn’t it? And Naxalism has turned into a monster turning half of the country into lawless killing field.

The same goes for the youth movements in early 1990s (the anti-reservation movement). Much ado about nothing. See the current reservation policies. What sort of social equality and progress they will bring is any sensible person’s guess. And what about today? The hip hot happening blogging protests, candle light vigils (the most absurd and stupid thing in my opinion. Shoot me for it. 99% of the people standing in such protests do this to look cool. The act itself is a product of pop culture. Remember Rang De Basanti?) or discussions by the so called common people (Are Shobha Dey,Mahesh Bhatt or Abhishek Manusinghvi common people?) on prime time television – what do they achieve? Sifar. Those in power carry on with there business as usual and we are left to see the crap happening around us.

Boring? Pessimistic? Isn’t it? Well, its just my opinion. And I am not all against everything. Its small efforts on our part which collectively do create small positive dents on this otherwise hopeless scenario. And they shouldn’t be brought down. But at the same time expecting something radical to happen is just too much of a wishful thinking. Lets concentrate on what we are. What are our trifling personal problems? Lets delve into these waters now.

Here is the interesting part. A naïve, himself clueless 22 year old trying to discuss problems of his peers. I wonder if anyone is still interested in reading this. So I’ll start with my problems. They are nothing new. And everyone can relate with them. The usual stuff – marks, grades, bored to the hilt, idling away all this time while waiting for a chance to prove myself, career, future, my own insecurities related to everything around me, feeling too vulnerable and above all wondering about the same thing like my peers – What after six months when I am out of college? Other problems? Love? Yes. No. Maybe. Too personal to discuss here. Crush? No. Can I call Priyanka Chopra or Megan Fox a crush? If yes then, well, yes. Friends? To some extent. Family? Depends. What other problems? Physical? Mental? Social? Yes. Yes. Yes. And I am not the only one with all this mess in my life. Each and everyone of you is with me. So its not a crime to be angry or frustrated at times, unless you harm others or yourself. Don’t be ashamed. Vent it out. There is nothing wrong about it. Be yourself. Do whatever you want to control or overcome all this. Remember Irrfan Khan’s character in Life In A Metro. He goes on the rooftop and shouts at the city landscape and asks Konkona Sen Sharma’s character to do the same to ease her pain. Naïve but useful.For me it means watching 3 gangster movies a day and listening to Linkin Park (I can’t shout at the rooftop so I let Chester shout for me. Everyone can relate to Linkin Park’s lyrics. Maximum guys will agree with me on this. And if you haven’t listened to them you are surely missing something).

Everything will be all right if you are all right. Nothing is black or white. All is grey. It depends on our perception. And our perception depends on our inner self. If that person is not okay, he wont see positive in anything. So first we need to change that person. Strange that this talk comes from me after what I’v written in the previous part of this article? Well the thing is that I am trying to overcome my own negative self and prepare myself for a new life after college.  Just like you all. Its just that I am not afraid to admit my faults and weaknesses. And right now it’s the balanced me that is talking.

All I want to say is that we need positives around us. We need positive thinking, positive attitude, positive approach towards everything in life – good or bad. But at the same time we must not become too wishful in our thinking. Don’t expect drastic changes around you. Just be your good self. About all the rest – Que Sera Sera. Enough about everything. Time to sign off. If you did reach the end of this article, hurl your abuses or appreciation at wtfashish@gmail.com.

Wait a minute. Talking about Linkin Park, here is a gem from them . The song is “From the inside”. If you do care to watch the video, concentrate on the child. Maybe that’s you and me.

Tension is building inside steadily

(Everyone feels so far away from me)

Heavy thoughts forcing their way out of me

(Trying not to break but I’m so tired of this deceit)

(Every time I try to make myself get back up on my feet)

(All I ever think about is this)

(All the tiring time between)

(And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me)

Take everything from the inside and throw it all away

Cuz I swear for the last time I won’t trust myself with you

Adios

God’s Own Mystery

Here comes the greatest mystery of them all – the female / the fairer sex / the whatever else they are called to make them feel special. I am not a girl. So I don’t know what its like to be a girl. And being a Single Brown Male in his early twenties, and that too of the alphamale variety, I am as far from a girl’s world as James Cameron is from Kanti Shah or rather Cameron’s Avatar is from Shah’s Gunda. Or to put it in AD’s words, as a schizophrenic is from reality (that is why you are a master of wit dude). So I cannot have an inside or even a ringside view of a girl’s life. I am left out in the cold, like a high on testosterone, 17 year old kid standing outside a porn theatre desperate to get in at all costs.

So, being an alphamale, I have had very few girls in my life. Not that I am a loser who shys away from them or starts stammering on encountering the hottest girl around. No sir. Professionally – OK. Personally – Hi, Hello, Lets hang out, treats, canteen, coffee – Sorry sir, not my cup of tea. I am the type whom girls may not like to befriend. And myself, well, I personally endorse the views of Harry in When Harry Met Sally – “What I’m saying is – and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form – is that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.” Go ahead. Watch that movie if you have not yet. Probably the only sensible romantic movie ever. And who the hell wants to be friends with a girl anyways? Faggots do that.

Its just that I don’t know what to say to them. Some shithead cracks a lame joke and they go gaga over him. While another guy, who talks sensibly, is boring and quickly becomes an outcast. Trust me, I have observed this. Or rather experienced this (thats about the girl. More on her later.). You must cease to be yourself in their company. Hypocrisy is OK. Vanity is welcome. But the minute you try to be yourself or show them the reality, you are insensitive, you are a schmuck, you may be the worst person alive. The most trivial of things which a guy may never notice, become an issue of galactic importance for them while the biggest of issues may hold no importance in front of a minor one.

It has happened many times that I am with a girl and I wonder WTF? What should I say? I mean she is not going to discuss Quentin Tarantino or Tom Clancy with me. And I cannot talk Mills & Boons or SRK (could never understand why girls are such big suckers for him. He increases their expectations from men.) or worse – Rajiv Khandelwal and Balika Vadhu to save my life. What will she prefer? I am afraid to speak anything lest it upset her. I will speak figuratively. She will take it literally and I will be fucked. And what if I mention SEX. Will she freak out? It happened that I once used it with noblest of intentions and I was branded crass, cheap and what not. So there are a million thoughts in my mind. And finally, either I screw up with one crap talk or the other or I make a girl disinterested in me. Very few times it happens that I find someone compatible (This miracle happened with the girl albeit for a year or so.).

And finally, the greatest puzzle – What am I supposed to do with them? I mean, if I ask a lot of questions, I am nosy, if I don’t, I am insensitive. If I freak out on them, I don’t have a heart, if I don’t, I am uncaring. I am jealous and insecure if I react on my girl out there with someone else and I am indiferent if I don’t. I am a Male Chauvinist Pig, a control freak, if I want to know about their whereabouts all the time (when actually I care). I am a big-mouth, an ill mannered freak if I talk straightforwardly. I tell the truth, I am weak. I like Transformers, I will never grow up. I hate chick flicks, I will never understand what emotions are. And the moment I show emotions, I am not a man. So on and so forth.

Now, I cannot blame girls for everything. I am not a misogynist. I am sure that similar emotions can be evoked from the other side of the fence about boys. But the thing is that anytime, I would prefer having a drink or two with guys, discussing the latest violent thriller, sharing crude jokes on all and sundry and discussing Megan Fox’s or Priyanka Chopra’s assets instead of sitting around with a girl or horror of horrors – girls and feel awkward about not being able to laugh with them or making them laugh and trying desperately to put up a show of being content and happy. Thats not me. That will never be me. Come what may. Even God could never understand them. Who the hell am I then? I have tried and given up. Right baby? Adios.