Blogs from the UK: United King-Dumb 3

The tale of Dr. (Ms.) Jaspreet and Ms. Hold-me-while-I-grind-you.

My apologies for the slightly delayed post. I’m not in the best of writing moods nowadays but I decided to put this up none the less.
I was watching the Lost World (old version) on the box last night and it got me thinking. Its amazing how those creatures in the movie (tyrannosaurus, pterodactyls et al) did not get extinct or even evolve. Maybe it was since they were away from the surface and hence not exposed to the same climate changes as their upper level counterparts. Now before I digress into Darwin’s theory and evolution (which I think is totally crap, we all know we came from Adam and Eve) let me get to the point of this post.

I was out the other night with a friend of mine, a Brit of Chinese decent. We were two strapping young lads out on the town, not unlike Harold and Kumar. His interests were in numbers and mine were in, well, we all know where my interests lie.

So we were talking about general stuff (the thing you do in between checking out girls) and he says to me ‘Aditya**, I hear that Indian girls are really naughty.’ Now at that moment I had the look of a 10 year old trying to reduce the postulate of projectile charting of mesons to a substantial derivative that can be used to produce a model for the Big Bang theory.

‘Indian girls?’ I asked, ‘Naughty?’ Whatever designer drugs he was on that night, he definitely hadn’t shared them with me. He proceeded to explain that in his opinion, the girls in India are somewhat more liberal than those in the UK (yes, I had that look again). Apparently BBCD’s* were more so for dancing around trees and tumbling in the grass than they were for trying the wheelbarrow, missionary and open lotus.

The point being, the Indian community here is analogous to the underground dwelling dinos in the movie. Not exposed to the same changes in the cultural climate as the resident Indians.
So that got us thinking. Is it because their parents have refused to move on from arranged marriages, salwaar kameezes and Aloo Gobi 101? Maybe so. Indians have moved on with pubs/night-clubs on every second street, micro minis, female smokers and flavoured… err… protection, but their Balti eating, ‘Are you awright?’ saying, suit wearing counterparts haven’t.

At that moment, Nelson’s** attention was temporarily shifted to this olive skinned Asian hottie grinding the genitals off her boyfriend (or so we like to believe he was). Maybe we were wrong. The youth only want to LET their parents believe they are still their little angels. Although the previous generation might have a disparity in functioning from one continent to another, ours obviously does not.

All I know is that if Nelson knows of any naughty Indian girls, I sure as hell know a few people who’d want to be his best friend!

*BBCD = British born confused Desi

**Name changed to protect identity

_________________________________________________________________

On the music front, Taio Cruz - She's Like a Star. Brilliant song and awesome video.
Features Roxanne McKee from Hollyoaks, or as you will eventually know her, my wife.

Blogs from the UK: United King-Dumb 2

Hi! I’m Gopalacharan Bannerjee, but you can call me Gerard.

So we all have pet names right? Might not be the highlight of your day when some auntie shouts at you while your macking at your katta “Oyi Babloo! You’ve grown so big no! When did you pierce your ears? And why aren’t your friends wearing any clothes?!”. I mean I sympathise, I don’t exactly have the pick of the day when it comes to pet names either. So when you see people deliberately coming up with the most obscure names for themselves, you know something’s amiss in their head.
In a bid to become more “English”, more and more Indians in the UK are giving themselves “cool” names. Now don’t get me wrong, their mail still comes to Suk-deep Singh, but they INSIST that it’s a typo!
So I met this Indian guy at work, nice hardworking chap (Indian right?), and we exchanging pleasantries (and no he did not say ‘Are you awright!’). a few minutes into the conversation I said ‘Hey im sorry, but I didn’t catch your name’. So he politely says ‘Oh, I’m Tarun.’
So I figure he’s a chilled fellow, little into his thirties and stuff, pretty sure about himself. This was before the lunch break. I had gone down during the breaktime to get myself some water and these guys are at the cooler (Yeah, you know its gossip time!) And they see Tarun pulling up. So they all shout ‘Hey T-Dogg!’, ‘Yo! T-Bird’, and I’m like ‘What the F**K!!!’
So I decided it was my misson of the week to list out all the Indo-phobic names I could find,
Here are a few:(Many apologies to those who have been mentioned and will consequently read this, I mean no harm)

Ashwini – Ash – which eventually was changed to Ashwinder by a Brit who thought all Indians hail from Punjab.
Deepak – Dee
Gautam – Goutham – G
Hasmukh – Has
Kanchan - Kanch
Vibhuti - Vibs
Prashanth - Parry
Krishna - Li'l Krish (he's short)
Zahid - Zee - Z
Priyesh - P-man
Rahul - Roly
Ragavan - Rags
Archana - Anna
Gurprit - G, Prit
Nutan - Nuts
Ahilan - Healsy
Ajay - A.J
(I will be adding a few more as I come across them)

____________________________________________________________

Check out this video. Came across it yesterday.
Im my humble un-exaggerated opinion.. IT IS THE SINGLE MOST BRILLIANT video on youtube!!

Blogs from the UK: United King-Dumb 1

Yes I’m alright!

So its been a year since I started blogging. From the last time I did this, I’s a year older, none the wiser, 8pouns heavier (More muscle, not fat! *grrr) and staying in Birmingham. Now the English Language as spoken by Indians (those who know how) and that by the Brits (again, those who know how) is very different. For one, we have a wider vocabulary! And second, we don’t use rhetoric (read: redundant) and vague statements. The Blogs from the UK Series is one where I will be mocking the so called Queen’s Language for all its worth.

Now, if you were to meet someone on the road who you vaguely know, you would probably greet him with a ‘Hey! What’s up?’ or a casual ‘Hi!’ and if you didn’t know the person well a casual nod of acknowledgement would suffice. But not with the British! Oh no! They like to check up on you! Make sure your alive and kicking! So they go ‘You awright mate?’

Now I just find this absolutely, fucking annoying. What in God’s name would you do with finding out if I’m alright? Don’t I look ok? Am I pale or anaemic? Am I lying on the ground clutching my stomach going ‘Make it stop! Please, for the love of god make it stop’? NO! Then why the fuck do you care!

What’s worse is how do you respond to this? For the first few days I tried ‘Yup!’ but that backfired! They thought I was being to short with them, literally. I’d get a slight eyebrow raise with that response. I mean did you want my medical history at length? Is that what you were looking for?
So I decide the best course of action. Beat them at their own game! Ill ask them if they’re alright before they ask me! In that way I can get a response that they think is proper!

So the next time I run into a bloke, I scream, “Are you alright?” (yes, I did sound extremely indian and I’m proud of it!) And he goes, “Are YOU alright?”

F***** B***h

Oh Ye of Little Bail.

You know how everyone has this little list of things they want to do before they die? Like in the sitcom 'Earl'. I have one too! It’s in the drafts mode amongst my posts but its there. I'm done listing 43 as of now but ill post it when I reach a hundred!

The things on the list are quite random and off late I've been striking them out quite quickly (I fear ill be done with accomplishing everything even before I jot them down! :( ) So for the past few days I was wondering what has happened that can even somewhat substantiate as good blogging material when the majik content was starting at me in the face! My trip to prison!!

Now the term prison in this context is as loose as a wizards sleeve, but its still a room with no air, ventilation, furniture OR lights closed by bars!

So the story goes as follows. I was walking down the bridge at Grant Road station when I bump into this guy and I, being I, am completely oblivious to all that is happening around me when I’m lost “in the zone”. Being the Goliath between the two, I barely acknowledged his presence. This seemed to have irked him a bit because he managed to get out some rather impressive expletives usually heard, more often than not, in these kinds of situations. Now my ears with my Catholic School education have been fine tuned to pick up the nuances between insults aimed at me and the rest of the crowd. So I turn around and I’m staring at this short guy. He was as typical as they come. Gaudy red checked shirt with the top two buttons open. Scanty beard which I don’t think hell bother to shave for quite some time and a loud hoarse voice. He was balding a little at the top of his head (which just goes to show how short he was. Or how tall I am :P) and his hand was incessantly fidgeting with his crotch.

By this time we have quite a few spectators crowded around us, edging us on! And the usual exchange of gaalis takes place. MC, BC, HC, BBC, HSBC, LC, OBC, SC, ST, NT etc. And I guess he was as tired of running his mouth as I was. So he says to me, with contempt in his voice “Baade baap ka beta hai na. Mooh toh chala sakta hai, haath chala ke dikha!”

Now I won’t lie to you. My pants did turn a darker shade as I lost all bladder control when those words erupted from his mouth. So with the little courage I could muster I shout back “S-s-saaale, t-tu c-chala ke d-dikha n-na!” AND THEN HE PUSHES ME! So now I’m parked there, with this little twat who is trying to get the better of me, and I'm not going to stand for it. So a tiff breaks out. Punches are thrown, well aimed kicks are planted and the whole WWE experience is there for all to enjoy (I think I saw the WWE Divas from the corner of my eye as well) as it turned out, the guy was all bark and no bite. A few well places punches to the head got his eyebrow to start bleeding. And just when the red started to flow, the RPF saunters in brandishing daandas. Well they didn’t use them, because they didn’t have to. The fight stopped rather abruptly and we were separated.

The little dumbfuck started pointing out to his bloody eye and was weeping like a widow (He looked like Shah Rukh Khan’s doppelganger!) He ran away under the pretext of needing medical attention. So who was left to grease the RPF’s palms? ME!

They took me to the lock up, the pictures of which I have gladly attached below. A dingy cell with no light and even less ventilation! Let me tell you from now, it’s and experience but something I want to do just once! I was put in with chain snatchers, stone pelters and con men. The air was heavy with the smell of beedis burning. The heady feeling amplified with the lack of fresh oxygen and light. The walls were drab and peeling, with names of previous occupants scratched out in the lime wash. There were chattais in the corner, soiled by the body fluids of God knows how many people. And the toilet was a joke! It was a broken Indian commode, with a cardboard sheet as the only means of privacy.

They refused all sort of ‘chai-paani’ compensation in exchange for my release. They informed me that the magistrate would see our cases as the court adjoining he station. Apparently I was taken for, what I can roughly translate as, “Disorderly Conduct”. The fine was usually set to around Rs.1200. They would take us there at 3pm (it was 11am now, 4 more hours!)

The whole time I was there I stood alone against the wall, with the toughest meanest look plastered on my face. Eyebrows knitted, fists clenched, teeth gritted, surveying each and every inmate in with me. An hour and a half later, this college student was brought in along with the new fish. We old timers studied them closely. I spoke to him for a bit. He said his girl was on the outside. She had plans to get him out, since she knew someone in the WREU(Western Railways. Employees Union) office. The aforementioned chica came 20 minutes later and managed to weep just about enough to melt their black hearts. But the pigs in khakhi still made her pay them enough to buy khamba for the rest of their lives.

All in all I was there for about 2 and half hours. I did pay the fine in the end. I had to shell out a cool Rs.600 to get out of that shit hole. It was a small price to pay, to cross off another task on my ‘Things to do’ list, wouldn't you agree? Would I go back there again? Well I cant say yes for sure, but I do know the next time I’m provoked on the station, ill definitely check my fists.

Life in a Song

Seeing how most of my life has always been music-centric, wanted to pen down the songs and albums that have played a major part thru out my life!

2000: Backstreet Boys - Millenium Album (My first cassette! I kno its kinda sad but its true!)

2001-2002: We will rock you/We dont need no education (Boys school, vandalist attitude, need I say more?)

2001: Bryan Adams - Summer of '69 (Showed me the effect of this song on a group of girls with raging hormones. JB Jam)

2002: Groove Armada - I see you baby (This is the first song i downloaded of Kazaa P2P.Still have the original even after countless formats and 4 computer changes!!)

2003: Eminem - The Eminem Show (My first introduction to hip hop and my first Cd. From now on there was no looking back.)

July 2003: Dido - White Flag (Fav song of the first girl i really connected with! Used to listen to it every hour on the hour. Too bad it diddnt work out! :( )

2003 End: Skazi - Pissed Off (My introduction to trance. Thanks to a certain wannabe DJ.)

April 2004: Snoop Dogg & Dr Dre - Next Episode (The song that has bound my bestest friend n me till this day)

31st December 2004: Punjabi MC - Backstabber (Opened my eyes to my first serious crush)

June 2005: Santana - Smooth ( Introduced me to the guy who would be my wingman and partner in crime till hell freezes over. Which im sure will be something we're responsible for)

August 2005: Eminem - One Last Time (Engg tutions were made bearable just by its lyrics!)

21st August 2005: Lobo - Love You To Want Me (Lyrics dictate what happened when I first

saw the angel I now call my girlfriend!)

14th February 2006: Stevie Wonder - I Just Called To Say I Love You (Found out it was her favourite song)

26th May 2006: 36 Chinatown - Ashique (Found out for a fact the she is THE BEST dancer in Shiamak's Troupe)

31st December 2006: Shakira - Hips Dont Lie ( They did'nt)

24th May 2007: Mika - Grace Kelly (My blogger bud told me this song reminds her of me! She dosent know it but shes the sweetest and most innocent girl I kno. Ah! I can picture your laugh as you read this.)

22nd June 2007: Keane - Bad Dream (This song effectively ended a 12 month cold war between me and my mate.)


Ill Update as and when events occur! :P

Hide and Seek

As I was walking up the stair,

I met a man who wasn't there.

He wasn't there again today.

I wish, I wish he'd stay away.

-William Hughes Mearns

My Grey Anatomy (Note at the end)

The problem with maintaining an honest blog is when people with who you associate daily start to read it, they develop an alternate perception of who you really are. But what happens when you yourself start living less like the ‘real world’ you and metamorphose into what you’ve made yourself out to be?

I used to be carefree once. My mom and dad used to tell me how lucky I was to be a kid. No worries, fear, pain or concern. I thought they were silly then. How can you compare watching t.v. and playing with your friends to unsupervised parties and late nights. To unlimited spending power (or so it seemed then) and access to four wheels! Now I know what they were talking about. Behind the façade of an exciting and thrilling adult life lie the demons of worry, pain and anguish.

I don’t really know when it changed me. ‘It’ being an entity I cant identify. I don’t know when I stopped smelling the roses and started looking at the thorns (The roses are used strictly as an example). Whenever it mite have been here I am today. I see things differently now. Like the black and white hues in ‘Sleepy Hollow’, everything seems more drab and depressed. All that’s left to do now is hope that the color that so painted my life will somehow someday come back. And I know it will.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the Music Front. Song is by Keane, its called A Bad Dream. An amazing find. I suggest all of yall to download it.

Why do I have to fly

Over every town up and down the line?

I'll die in the clouds above

And you that I defend, I do not love

I wake up, it's a bad dream

No one on my side

I was fighting

But I just feel too tired

To be fighting

Guess I'm not the fighting kind

Where will I meet my fate?

Baby I'm a man, I was born to hate

And when will I meet my end?

In a better time you could be my friend

I wake up, it's a bad dream

No one on my side

I was fighting

But I just feel too tired

To be fighting

Guess I'm not the fighting kind

Wouldn't mind it

If you were by my side

But you're long gone

Yeah you're long gone now

Where do we go?

I don't even know

My strange old face

And I'm thinking about those days

And I'm thinking about those days

I wake up, it's a bad dream

No one on my side

I was fighting

But I just feel too tired

To be fighting

Guess I'm not the fighting kind

Wouldn't mind it

If you were by my side

But you're long gone

Yeah you're long gone now

Note: This post was written 15 days ago when my blog was private. Nothings is wrong with the world. Al Qaeeda hasn't recruited me and NO, im not suicidal! :P