12 Indians were deplaned from an airline yesterday because they were 'acting suspiciously'. The Indian media was full of righteous indignation and it seems that the entire nation, race and species has been insulted. And before you start feeling the same let me tell you of my experiences about Indians I have traveled with.
But first, the important thing you have to remember in this case is that all these people were part of a group who were textile merchants who had gone to attend some trade fair. The US marshals swooped down on them when they did not heed repeated requests by the cabin crew to sit down and fasten their belts before take off. They were also passing around their mobile phones (presumably showing each other nude clips they have surreptitiously clicked of the whores they had picked up) even when the switch off phones message was announced. While I agree that these actions don’t brand them as terrorists (is the xenophobia rampaging in the west really unjustified? I don’t know, that’s the topic for another post), but YES, these actions completely justify throwing out such arseholes.
As for how we (and hooligan English soccer fans) behave in groups, I have had personal experiences of both. Traveling to Bangkok from India was an eye opening experience for me. There are 2 types of groups that travel to Thailand. The first are the corporate groups who are traveling to attend some kind of sales meet or ‘team building workshops’ (both are companies’ ways of preventing attrition by providing pussy…PAPP shall we say?). The other is what are called ‘pigeons’ or ‘kabutars’. These are guys that are sent to buy electronics or computer hardware parts in bulk to carry back to India and sell at Indian rates.
And how they behave makes me ashamed that I am an Indian. The first group talk to each other LOUDLY across rows, click snaps of each other, discuss the vital stats of the cabin crew, get drunk and generally make life for everyone else miserable. The second group change into lungis, start card games, drink themselves silly when they realize that drinks are free and then puke between their legs. Can you believe it when I tell you that the Thai Airways security announcement video says ‘Sitting on the floor is not allowed’?
Deplane them? I think these guys should be deplaned when the flight is 30000 feet in the air.
Aug 25, 2006
Aug 10, 2006
Stories of B
When B came back after attending his first day in IGNOU he was ecstatic. The girls there were out of the world, he said, and every evening we used to sit around him, green with envy, as he recounted his flirtations with the Neerjas and the Somas of that Utopia. Soon enough, Bhan started pestering him for an 'intro' and then came the fateful day when B pronounced that he had invited some of them to his house for a get-together next week. That week was spent in frenzied preparation, doing push-ups to tone up the body, dabbing Clearsil on those dastardly pimples that had an uncanny instinct of emerging just before these momentous occasions and trying to wheedle out 50 bucks from our mothers to buy a new t-shirt.
A couple of days before the big day, we were in B's house as usual, making plans and allocating the girls amongst ourselves. B was unusually quiet that day and when prodded he said 'look guys, one thing i must tell you is that these girls i have invited are not too hot'. His comment was swept aside in our collective enthusiasm..at that time anything in a skirt used to be good enough for us. However, during the next couple of days, B kept on, his descriptions of the girls involving newer and more strongly worded negatives and eventually some seeds of doubts got planted in our minds.
Sure enough when the big day came our suspicions came true. Me and Bubai were always the 'look before you leap' types..so we decided to check out the girls from Bubai's balcony when they arrived. And boy! They were a sorry looking lot, even for our highly compromising standards! Bhan, shaved, perfumed and freshly scrubbed from his monthly bath, however was not so lucky as he was already in B's house by that time. So, after sitting through a horrible afternoon, an understandibly furious Bhan launched into a tirade when we reconvened in the evening in B’s house. B took this for about 10 minutes, then barked out ‘don’t you talk to me about bad looking girls. Your girlfriend is the worst sample I have seen in my life’.
And you know why that was totally below the belt? B had once gotten interested in a girl who used to move around with a girlfriend who was, shall we say, a bit ‘problematic’. So B had this brainwave. He convinced BH to ‘appo’ the girlfriend and then through her got to know the other girl. B had his fun with the girl, BH ended up marrying the ‘problematic’ girlfriend.
B was amazing!
A couple of days before the big day, we were in B's house as usual, making plans and allocating the girls amongst ourselves. B was unusually quiet that day and when prodded he said 'look guys, one thing i must tell you is that these girls i have invited are not too hot'. His comment was swept aside in our collective enthusiasm..at that time anything in a skirt used to be good enough for us. However, during the next couple of days, B kept on, his descriptions of the girls involving newer and more strongly worded negatives and eventually some seeds of doubts got planted in our minds.
Sure enough when the big day came our suspicions came true. Me and Bubai were always the 'look before you leap' types..so we decided to check out the girls from Bubai's balcony when they arrived. And boy! They were a sorry looking lot, even for our highly compromising standards! Bhan, shaved, perfumed and freshly scrubbed from his monthly bath, however was not so lucky as he was already in B's house by that time. So, after sitting through a horrible afternoon, an understandibly furious Bhan launched into a tirade when we reconvened in the evening in B’s house. B took this for about 10 minutes, then barked out ‘don’t you talk to me about bad looking girls. Your girlfriend is the worst sample I have seen in my life’.
And you know why that was totally below the belt? B had once gotten interested in a girl who used to move around with a girlfriend who was, shall we say, a bit ‘problematic’. So B had this brainwave. He convinced BH to ‘appo’ the girlfriend and then through her got to know the other girl. B had his fun with the girl, BH ended up marrying the ‘problematic’ girlfriend.
B was amazing!
Bappa
It was the eve of the Cost Accountancy entrance exam. The paper was GK, and a shell shocked B was sitting with an open quiz book on his lap, his mouth slack, rounded eyes staring vacantly into space. He had just discovered that Indira Gandhi wasn't the daughter of the Mahatma!
There are a zillion stories about B but till date I haven’t had the courage to write about them. Some won’t pass the censor board, some will lose their flavor in translation and some are so unbelievable that no one would believe them. But I would make an attempt anyway, else these stories would get lost in the damp corridors of my alcohol soaked brain.
The time was 1988 to 1992. I had met B when he joined Xavier's in class 11 and we somehow hit it off immediately. Bh and Bu were his pada friends, and soon the four of us became inseparable. And B was the star of the show. He was the original eccentric who used to perform antics that used to leave us spellbound. At a time when our sexual experiences were limited to having fantasies about the middle aged neighborhood ‘kakima’, B was going through relationships like he was born in the free-loving swinging 60-s, picking and dropping gorgeous girls at the drop of a hat, selling his cycle to assist a girlfriend through an abortion, ‘accidentally’ getting into a physical relationship with a girl he had brought home to teach her yoga, carrying a nan-chaku to his tuition class to ward off rival suitors and so on and on. The list was endless and to us he was absolutely larger than life.
Those years were probably the best of our lives. We were so damn content with each others’ companies, least caring about the rest of the world, cocooned in our absolute belief that we would be together forever, and that life would go on just like that, no worries, no ambitions, no plans, just the fact that we would meet again the next day and the next and the next.
Bh got married and broke off all contact. B is in the US and he doesn’t take a step before consulting his wife. Me and Bu are carrying on, wistfully remembering those days whenever we get together and wondering why we ever grew up and grew apart.
PS: Bu, I really tried to write about the cassette library, the confrontations with Kaku, the walking with his underwear locked around his knees, his conversations with Bh...its impossible. Either I am not a good enough writer, or B is too large to be captured on the pages of a blog.
There are a zillion stories about B but till date I haven’t had the courage to write about them. Some won’t pass the censor board, some will lose their flavor in translation and some are so unbelievable that no one would believe them. But I would make an attempt anyway, else these stories would get lost in the damp corridors of my alcohol soaked brain.
The time was 1988 to 1992. I had met B when he joined Xavier's in class 11 and we somehow hit it off immediately. Bh and Bu were his pada friends, and soon the four of us became inseparable. And B was the star of the show. He was the original eccentric who used to perform antics that used to leave us spellbound. At a time when our sexual experiences were limited to having fantasies about the middle aged neighborhood ‘kakima’, B was going through relationships like he was born in the free-loving swinging 60-s, picking and dropping gorgeous girls at the drop of a hat, selling his cycle to assist a girlfriend through an abortion, ‘accidentally’ getting into a physical relationship with a girl he had brought home to teach her yoga, carrying a nan-chaku to his tuition class to ward off rival suitors and so on and on. The list was endless and to us he was absolutely larger than life.
Those years were probably the best of our lives. We were so damn content with each others’ companies, least caring about the rest of the world, cocooned in our absolute belief that we would be together forever, and that life would go on just like that, no worries, no ambitions, no plans, just the fact that we would meet again the next day and the next and the next.
Bh got married and broke off all contact. B is in the US and he doesn’t take a step before consulting his wife. Me and Bu are carrying on, wistfully remembering those days whenever we get together and wondering why we ever grew up and grew apart.
PS: Bu, I really tried to write about the cassette library, the confrontations with Kaku, the walking with his underwear locked around his knees, his conversations with Bh...its impossible. Either I am not a good enough writer, or B is too large to be captured on the pages of a blog.
Aug 5, 2006
Houseguest problems anyone?
I am paying a huge price for a tiny mistake i made. The wife's friend's brother was coming down to delhi for a month or so for some work and he called me up to ask about places to stay. The wife's friend was a bomb, and because of flashes of her sacred memory i offered that he can move in with me for some time and then look around.
Mistake.
He has moved in permanently. That by itself is not a problem. The problem is he has ALL the characteristics that turns me off completely. He talks incessantly. He is one of those people who feel insecure when not mouthing off. Be it summarising a newspaper article while reading the morning paper, admiring a new car that is being launched, opining about any issue while watching the news, anecdotes about office colleagues, the state of the telecom industry, the infrastructural problems indian cities are facing etc etc etc. You must be wandering what my problem is. These are everyday topics that are discussed all the time in conversations with friends. Agreed. The gaping hole in that logic is that as 'conversations' these make sense. You see, throughout all these, i sit like a statue carved out of granite.
Thats right. All these are monologues. I dont participate. Does that dry him up? OH NO..he goes right on. I have tried leaving the room, he goes on. I have tried opening the laptop and typing seriously (like now), the words flow on. I have tried conversation stopper replies (like 'if thats your point of view we should stop this conversation right now'), he carries on with a beatific smile. I have tried putting on a movie he likes, just so he will shut up..he reads out the subtitles. I go and stand in the balcony, he starts playing a game on his cell phone, and for my benefit does a running commentory (thats level 1, yeah, now come on Dronzo the Dragon..).
Last night I really wanted to be alone for some time. Some peace, some introspection, some solitude to take a few decisions (if you have read the last post you would know why). So i worked out a strategy. I came back home, had an early dinner, yawned copiously, then said that its been a dog's day, goodnight. Went to my room, feigned sleep for 30 mins, heard the living room lights go out, heard the door to his room close, waited 15 minutes, then tiptoed out, stood in the balcony, took a long drag on the fag, exhaled out to the cool full moon night, revelling in the silence, welcoming the end to a stressful week, trying to recharge the batteries to prepare for the fight I knew I had to fight in office in the coming week..he comes up from behind and tells me 'Thank god you are awake. I was getting so bored'.
I didnt deserve this. I seriously want a shoulder to cry my heart out. MOMMY! I NEED YOU!
Mistake.
He has moved in permanently. That by itself is not a problem. The problem is he has ALL the characteristics that turns me off completely. He talks incessantly. He is one of those people who feel insecure when not mouthing off. Be it summarising a newspaper article while reading the morning paper, admiring a new car that is being launched, opining about any issue while watching the news, anecdotes about office colleagues, the state of the telecom industry, the infrastructural problems indian cities are facing etc etc etc. You must be wandering what my problem is. These are everyday topics that are discussed all the time in conversations with friends. Agreed. The gaping hole in that logic is that as 'conversations' these make sense. You see, throughout all these, i sit like a statue carved out of granite.
Thats right. All these are monologues. I dont participate. Does that dry him up? OH NO..he goes right on. I have tried leaving the room, he goes on. I have tried opening the laptop and typing seriously (like now), the words flow on. I have tried conversation stopper replies (like 'if thats your point of view we should stop this conversation right now'), he carries on with a beatific smile. I have tried putting on a movie he likes, just so he will shut up..he reads out the subtitles. I go and stand in the balcony, he starts playing a game on his cell phone, and for my benefit does a running commentory (thats level 1, yeah, now come on Dronzo the Dragon..).
Last night I really wanted to be alone for some time. Some peace, some introspection, some solitude to take a few decisions (if you have read the last post you would know why). So i worked out a strategy. I came back home, had an early dinner, yawned copiously, then said that its been a dog's day, goodnight. Went to my room, feigned sleep for 30 mins, heard the living room lights go out, heard the door to his room close, waited 15 minutes, then tiptoed out, stood in the balcony, took a long drag on the fag, exhaled out to the cool full moon night, revelling in the silence, welcoming the end to a stressful week, trying to recharge the batteries to prepare for the fight I knew I had to fight in office in the coming week..he comes up from behind and tells me 'Thank god you are awake. I was getting so bored'.
I didnt deserve this. I seriously want a shoulder to cry my heart out. MOMMY! I NEED YOU!
Aug 4, 2006
Inevitably..
my cynicism triumphed. The past month was spent in hectic work, the drying up of posts must have proved that. It was a time when I actually felt I was doing meaningful work, part of a team of dedicated guys working together to surmount a major challenge.
it all came crashing down yesterday..wont bore everyone with the details...but i am finally convinced that we indians are generally a bastard race. and i have sworn that before i quit i will write a mail to Sam Palmisano our CEO, telling him exactly what's going and advicing him to take his shop elsewhere.
sorry bubai..couldn't come up with a positive post even this time.
it all came crashing down yesterday..wont bore everyone with the details...but i am finally convinced that we indians are generally a bastard race. and i have sworn that before i quit i will write a mail to Sam Palmisano our CEO, telling him exactly what's going and advicing him to take his shop elsewhere.
sorry bubai..couldn't come up with a positive post even this time.
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