I read this joke somewhere, I don't exactly remember where but it goes like this
A judge who is about to grant a divorce to a couple asks their eight year old girl
Judge: Beta, whom do you want to stay with? Do you want to stay with your mommy?
Girl: No mommy beats me.
Judge: Do you want to stay with you daddy then?
Girl: No daddy beats me too.
Judge (confused): Whom do you want to stay with?
Girl: Indian Cricket Team, they never beat anyone.
This pretty much explains the exasperation I went through after painfully watching the India Sri Lanka match, and hoping somewhere that Bermuda beats Bangladesh. But then again India didn't deserve to go to Super 8. If they cannot beat Bangladesh and Sri Lanka, I don't know how they would beat Australia or South Africa or for that point the 'Oram'juvenated New Zealand.
Though I never wanted to write something about cricket on my blog, the boys in blue forced me to do so.
But then again I am glad that I don't have to search for Rakhi Sawant's song or her item number on youtube cuz she said that she would do that at Mumbai Airport if India won the cup.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Monday, March 05, 2007
Paanch... paanch... paanch
Two days ago I was flipping through channels... when I was on a Japanese channel (curtsy DISH network, by far the worst blood sucking good for nothing network) I got a call, so I was talking on the phone and walks in a friend of mine and asks me what I was doing watching a Japanese channel. Not the one to give a straightforward simple answer, I asked him why should I not watch a Japanese channel and told him that language should not be a barrier and it is people like him who think that language was a barrier that actually hindered the concept of global village.
It felt very nice lecturing him that way, but it did pose a question if language was actually a barrier. Then suddenly I remembered something that my mother had done long back. For some time I was lost in memory of my mother. Although she is no more, she still is a very strong driving force in the decisions that I make in daily life.
This happened around ten years ago.
My mother's interaction with Hindi was minimal. The Hyderabadi hindi that my sister and I spoke sometimes at home was her introduction to hindi and anybody who speaks or knows hyderabadi know that it definitely is not hindi. And all the Raj Kapoor movies that were broadcasted when he died didn't teach her much either. And then a score of Telugu channels started and she never had to learn hindi.
During that time Naxalite movement was at full swing, so any industry which was earning "some" profit was provided protection by CRPF. It so happened that a few people were given quarters to live near our house. My dad was the happiest because he could buy liquor at the discounted prices of their canteen, he made a few friends in CRPF. Now there was this particular Rajasthani couple in those people. And quite odd as it sounds, they were the only people from North India and everyone else was a Malayali or a Gulti. So that Rajasthani lady who found my mother the most hospitable came to our house every now and then and stayed there talking to my mom for hours together.
Now this might happen anywhere and is not a big deal, except the non-tenable part is that my mother didn't know hindi and that lady didnt know anything except Rajasthani or hindi. So the two languages that my mom knew (Telugu and English) were out of question. So my mom wrestled with the little (which was very little) hindi that she knew.
I witnessed the fact that they talked for hours and hours together and when I asked my mother how she managed, she smiled and said that she understood pretty much everything that the lady tried to tell my mother and vice versa (I asked that lady about it and she told me).
I wasn't home much, but my sister narrated a very funny incident to me.
When a vegetable vendor passed by our houses, the lady screamed on top of her lungs,
"Oh sabjiwale bhaiyya, idhar aao".
The vegetable vendor who did not understand that it was intended for him just moved on selling his stuff. So this lady ran out and stopped him. Well my mother also had to buy some vegetables and she did just that.
My sister at this moment went next door to meet her friend. After my mother and the other lady bought the vegetables, the vendor asks her for fifteen rupees. Now the only problem being, he said it in telugu. Now the lady looked at my mother enquiringly.
My mother looked around for her escape route (my sister) and obviously didn't find her. Now that the onus was on her, she took an easier route. She paid for both of them. The lady took the vegetables home and came back with the money. She asked my mother
"kitne paise hue didi?"
Now my mom understood the word paise. She was about to say that it was okay because she didn't know how to say fifteen in hindi, but then she came up with the neatest thing that I have ever known.
She showed her five fingers and said paanch, she closed the fingers into a fist and opened them and again said paanch and finally for the third time she said paanch. Without blinking the lady gave my mother fifteen rupees.
After I heard this episode I never again asked my mother how she managed to talk to the lady for hours.
It felt very nice lecturing him that way, but it did pose a question if language was actually a barrier. Then suddenly I remembered something that my mother had done long back. For some time I was lost in memory of my mother. Although she is no more, she still is a very strong driving force in the decisions that I make in daily life.
This happened around ten years ago.
My mother's interaction with Hindi was minimal. The Hyderabadi hindi that my sister and I spoke sometimes at home was her introduction to hindi and anybody who speaks or knows hyderabadi know that it definitely is not hindi. And all the Raj Kapoor movies that were broadcasted when he died didn't teach her much either. And then a score of Telugu channels started and she never had to learn hindi.
During that time Naxalite movement was at full swing, so any industry which was earning "some" profit was provided protection by CRPF. It so happened that a few people were given quarters to live near our house. My dad was the happiest because he could buy liquor at the discounted prices of their canteen, he made a few friends in CRPF. Now there was this particular Rajasthani couple in those people. And quite odd as it sounds, they were the only people from North India and everyone else was a Malayali or a Gulti. So that Rajasthani lady who found my mother the most hospitable came to our house every now and then and stayed there talking to my mom for hours together.
Now this might happen anywhere and is not a big deal, except the non-tenable part is that my mother didn't know hindi and that lady didnt know anything except Rajasthani or hindi. So the two languages that my mom knew (Telugu and English) were out of question. So my mom wrestled with the little (which was very little) hindi that she knew.
I witnessed the fact that they talked for hours and hours together and when I asked my mother how she managed, she smiled and said that she understood pretty much everything that the lady tried to tell my mother and vice versa (I asked that lady about it and she told me).
I wasn't home much, but my sister narrated a very funny incident to me.
When a vegetable vendor passed by our houses, the lady screamed on top of her lungs,
"Oh sabjiwale bhaiyya, idhar aao".
The vegetable vendor who did not understand that it was intended for him just moved on selling his stuff. So this lady ran out and stopped him. Well my mother also had to buy some vegetables and she did just that.
My sister at this moment went next door to meet her friend. After my mother and the other lady bought the vegetables, the vendor asks her for fifteen rupees. Now the only problem being, he said it in telugu. Now the lady looked at my mother enquiringly.
My mother looked around for her escape route (my sister) and obviously didn't find her. Now that the onus was on her, she took an easier route. She paid for both of them. The lady took the vegetables home and came back with the money. She asked my mother
"kitne paise hue didi?"
Now my mom understood the word paise. She was about to say that it was okay because she didn't know how to say fifteen in hindi, but then she came up with the neatest thing that I have ever known.
She showed her five fingers and said paanch, she closed the fingers into a fist and opened them and again said paanch and finally for the third time she said paanch. Without blinking the lady gave my mother fifteen rupees.
After I heard this episode I never again asked my mother how she managed to talk to the lady for hours.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
How much does a cigarette cost?
Well even with exorbitant state taxes as in NY or CA one pack of Marlboro Lights would not cost more than $10, that makes a cigarette not more than 50 cents.
But I know a guy who actually smoked a cigarette that cost him $230 + 15 cents.
The central character in this post is the same "oxymoron" guy. I think I should start a stereotype with his name, but was warned against it.
Now, this guy is a big Shahrukh Khan fan and fancies that he looks like the star. And he is always hell bent on making people say that he looks like Shahrukh. He still tries to convince me. I haven't succumbed to the torture yet. If it ended there, it would have been good but the problem arises when this guy even copies the star's mannerisms.
While driving his car which is barely "strung" together, which he drives with elan with his cellphone in one hand and cigarette in another. I don't know how he drives, but drives nonetheless. On the Interstate 95 where he is whizzing by all the lesser mortals who are driving within the speed limit, he suddenly thinks of Shahrukh and how he flicks the cigarette butt into the air. He flicks it the same way out of the window, into the air. This butt had a mind of its own and decided to go and crash against the cop's windshield. Well it is night, otherwise he would have noticed the cop behind him, I think.
Now cops in NJ are really not known for their forgiveness. So the cop turned his lights on. It took a few seconds for this guy to realize that those lights were for him. So he pulled over. He was rehearsing as what to say about the speed he was going at and he decided that he would say it was 74 on a 65 zone.
The cop asks him if he knew why he was pulled over. He said that he didn't (I wish he said that it was for speeding). The cop takes his license, registration, insurance tallies the database if he was a criminal then comes back saying that it was for throwing a cigarette butt on the highway. The cop gave him a ticket (amount not mentioned) for throwing the cigarette butt on the highway. He doesn't even mention about speeding. When I drive on the highway and I have driven a lot (more than 100,000 miles), I usually see at least one cigarette flying out of cars every other minute depending on the traffic, but have never seen anyone get a ticket for it.
Now he comes to my place the next day and tells me that he got a ticket for smoking a cigarette. I kind of understood what he said and told him that Highway Littering fine was $500 just to make him a bit more miserable. So he calls up the court and finds out that the amount was $230. He was happy that it was not 500.
Now the lady that talked to him on the phone had a hard time finding out the amount because she hadn't seen a case like this in her 10 years of service and was even thinking that it was the first case of its kind under that court.
And at the end she said (read in an African American accent) "How did yo get a ticket for this? If yo cannot dispose yor butt without getting caught, then yo should stop smoking..... and driving"
But I know a guy who actually smoked a cigarette that cost him $230 + 15 cents.
The central character in this post is the same "oxymoron" guy. I think I should start a stereotype with his name, but was warned against it.
Now, this guy is a big Shahrukh Khan fan and fancies that he looks like the star. And he is always hell bent on making people say that he looks like Shahrukh. He still tries to convince me. I haven't succumbed to the torture yet. If it ended there, it would have been good but the problem arises when this guy even copies the star's mannerisms.
While driving his car which is barely "strung" together, which he drives with elan with his cellphone in one hand and cigarette in another. I don't know how he drives, but drives nonetheless. On the Interstate 95 where he is whizzing by all the lesser mortals who are driving within the speed limit, he suddenly thinks of Shahrukh and how he flicks the cigarette butt into the air. He flicks it the same way out of the window, into the air. This butt had a mind of its own and decided to go and crash against the cop's windshield. Well it is night, otherwise he would have noticed the cop behind him, I think.
Now cops in NJ are really not known for their forgiveness. So the cop turned his lights on. It took a few seconds for this guy to realize that those lights were for him. So he pulled over. He was rehearsing as what to say about the speed he was going at and he decided that he would say it was 74 on a 65 zone.
The cop asks him if he knew why he was pulled over. He said that he didn't (I wish he said that it was for speeding). The cop takes his license, registration, insurance tallies the database if he was a criminal then comes back saying that it was for throwing a cigarette butt on the highway. The cop gave him a ticket (amount not mentioned) for throwing the cigarette butt on the highway. He doesn't even mention about speeding. When I drive on the highway and I have driven a lot (more than 100,000 miles), I usually see at least one cigarette flying out of cars every other minute depending on the traffic, but have never seen anyone get a ticket for it.
Now he comes to my place the next day and tells me that he got a ticket for smoking a cigarette. I kind of understood what he said and told him that Highway Littering fine was $500 just to make him a bit more miserable. So he calls up the court and finds out that the amount was $230. He was happy that it was not 500.
Now the lady that talked to him on the phone had a hard time finding out the amount because she hadn't seen a case like this in her 10 years of service and was even thinking that it was the first case of its kind under that court.
And at the end she said (read in an African American accent) "How did yo get a ticket for this? If yo cannot dispose yor butt without getting caught, then yo should stop smoking..... and driving"
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