RAPE Is Entertaining, Beta

There's something wrong with any of you who looks at the title of this post and thinks "You GO girl! You're so right!". Because I'm not. But my education system doesn't seem to think so.

Let me explain, before things get ugly. I have mentioned this professor before in this post. He's an absolute thrill to learn from because of his flair for diplomacy, appropriateness and a fine sense of social acceptability. Our class adores him. We don't know how we would get along without him. I have already given him credit for the fact that I'm not dating Salman Khan or indulging in Puppy Love. He guided me and prevented me from making these extremely vital mistakes which I would have made otherwise.

Currently he believes that Criminal Law is all about sex. The truth is, there are quite a few sexual offences but they, in no means, constitute a majority of the Indian Penal Code. He is rather obsessed with Rape and issues concerning the same, which is very discomforting. But seriously, the best statement he has made by far, is "Rape is entertaining!". I will explain the context, though I doubt it's going to redeem that statement anyway.

Awesome McSmartyProf said that all misrepresentations of the law in movies should be banned. A student clarified stating that there was a disclaimer at the beginning of all movies stating that the law and medicine used might be fictitious. He said that a layman wouldn't read that [given, decent point]. Another student said that movies were just entertainment for which he countered "RAPE, is entertainment, beta! Can we allow that one?"

On which planet would any blinking moron find rape entertaining? Or even compare it to movies? I didn't know whether to laugh, be angry, slap him or just write it off as one of his "isms".

So I have finally narrowed down his madness to the following things:

• He is sick, desperate and sexually frustrated
• He is an alien from the planet MaleChauvinistPigoid
• He is Mr.Topsy Turvy who believes that right is wrong and wrong is right
• He needs to attend a highly recommended course called "Keep It In Your Pants"

Other important lessons from the same bloke:

• Men should not be forced to be monogamous because they are polygamous by nature
• Nature has been very unkind to women
• Drunk Malayalis speak Tamil; drunk Delhiites speak English
• Criminal Law causes "The rush in the blood"

I don't want to continue. I rest my case.

Televisional Atyachaar

My roommate watched Rakhi Sawant's entire Swayamvar. For those who don't really understand the concept, a 'Swayamwar' is what Indian Princesses did in the time of Kings. The young eligible Princes of the country assembled one fine day, and she picked her suitor out of the bunch. Rakhi Sawant, a B-Grade, Bollywood reject, decided that she was royal enough to pick her suitor out of a motley crew of random men who wanted some form of silver screen fame; even if it meant demeaning themselves, throwing themselves headfirst on to a scantily clad "It Girl", and voluntarily stripping themselves off any shred of dignity they might have possessed.

So as I caught bits and pieces of the show which stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, I began to wonder why the Indian junta would ever watch such a show. I then turned to the right and saw my roommate watching intently. She watched the episode and its re-run to make sure she didn't miss even a twitch of Rakhi's facial muscles which might be converted into a scandalous issue. I remember very clearly that three episodes were used up simply to emphasise that one of the candidates kissed Rakhi on the forehead, and that was a very scandalous thing to do. I'm sorry woman; maybe the man wouldn't have taken such "advantage" of you if you didn't parade around in your underclothes all the time!

Finally a surprisingly sensible seeming Canadian businessman got the 'girl'. I don't know why he did that to himself but at least it was over. I thought that was the end of that but WAIT! They're not done torturing me yet! People want more. They put Rakhi in a house with her fiance and gave them kids of various ages to take care of to test how good they'd be as parents. As usual, the devoted roomie sat with her eyes peeled for the episodes of "Pathi Pathni Aur Woh" [Which translates to "Husband, Wife and Them/That!]. A little bit of me died. The show got over and I revived it with tonnes of CPR in the form of watching Scrubs, Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, House, Boston Legal, Arrested Development, etc.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the show was over. But the torture continues in the form of "Emotional Atyachaar"; a show imitating the American one, 'Busted'. Let me explain this show with a hypothetical situation. Y is dating Z but seriously doubts her loyalty. Therefore, Y calls up the show to test her loyalty. The T.V. crew stalks Z for a few days, they put cameras wherever she goes and monitor her every move. More often than not, Z is cheating with a third party who we'll call M. Soon the creators of the show realised that too much was contingent on the existence of this M character. People are not calling the show to find out that their partners are loyal. People aren't watching to show to see happy and functional couples. Therefore, they decided to take matters into their own hands.

The people on the show plant another character in Z's life. Let's call them F [for Fraud]. Character F generally seduces Z and puts her in a compromising position with him. Poor Z almost voluntarily falls for F. The camera crew tapes all this and shows it to the audience, and the highly suspicious dipshit Y. Y's heart is broken and he feels used. Therefore, he angrily confronts Z on camera. Z is taken by surprise, there is a lot of crying, yelling, pushing, shoving, slapping, flailing of arms and similar activities of the sort. The public is happy. Why? Really, why?

So while I continue to get tortured by the television thanks to my roommate, the cable guy has cut off 'Star World' which now denies me access to American Idol. Life isn't fair and I refuse to "Strike a fair deal" with it because it's not really negotiating, biotch!

P.S.: Is it just me or does she have a slinky on her head in the picture?!

And Ode To The Shatabdi

Tomorrow I'll get on that train

I'll ride on it all day,

Through the crazy landscapes

Fading with the final ray.

I'll see the suburban millionaires,

In houses that look like cake.

And cows and trees and wires and lights.

A green and scummy lake.

I'll sit next to that strange man,

Who talks a lot of shit,

Who wears a little moustache,

And tells me I look "fit".

I'll look at the train food,

And wonder what it is.

And think "I've never ever

seen Paneer as red as this"

I'll listen to music on my iPod

For so long that my ears say "eeeee".

I'll think about my aunt

Who says deafness will soon find me

I'll watch my watch intently

For the final hour till 10

When I can get off the Shatabdi

And get back home again.

Creeps On A Train

Okay so my mother doesn't want me to be spoilt. Therefore, she books me in the 2nd class ordinary compartment from Bangalore to Chennai everytime. I honestly don't mind. It doesn't make much of a difference. I get into the train, sleep, wake up at something like 4 am; and voila, I'm home!

But sometimes my train ride isn't particularly simple or pleasant due to the presence of one or more of the following entities:

1. THE SNORER
Very common, usually very large, sometimes very sweaty and always very male. Snorers have a way of making at least 3 compartments reverberate with their nasal melodies. Usually, when the sound is uniform, I manage to fall asleep. But sometimes, if you're unlucky, little snorts and grunts in various pitches will escape this man, causing you to jerk out of your sleepy state. I want to suffocate them with a pillow or something.

2. THE TALKER
Why are you on the phone all night in a train? And how do you manage to have phone reception in a moving train? Beats me. I just hate you. I don't care if your Mama's wife is acting strange around your grandmother; or if Santosh's girlfriend gave you the stinkeye; I just want to sleep. I hope your phone battery dies. I hope the person on the other end decides that they don't like you anymore. I hope you run out of credits. I hope your phone falls from your hand and ricochets off the middle berth and flies straight out of the window. I really do.

3. THE COCKROACH
Really, it is exactly what it is. Those brown insects with antennae. Anyone who knows me would know that I'm deathly scared of them. I'd rather pet a lizard than even look at a cockroach. And when they're in my view when I'm on the train, I can't sleep. I know how easy it is for them to climb/fly up to wherever I am and tickle me with their leggy, antennaey grossness!!

4. THE DEVOTED MOTHER
Mothers, your children know how to fall sleep even though they may be just 12. You needn't wake up all the time and ask them if they need water, an extra sheet, snacks, a pillow, your bag, a book, a goodnight story, etc. Really, don't worry about it. These mothers are usually accompanied by a child who doesn't really care and doesn't really want to be seen with the mother anyway. Why do they bother?

5. THE FRAAND
It's very rare that I'll befriend someone on a train. Fraands will try and make petty conversation. Ask you where you're from and what you do. I've often given false names and such like to ensure that these people don't stalk me in my sleep.
Fraand: What's your name?
Me: Sh... yla! Shyla!
Fraand: What do you do?
Me: Study.. B.B.A.
Fraand: Ohhh... Why are you carrying a book on the Indian Contract Act?
Me: Oh.. I have one chapter form that *fakes a phone call* Sorry, I need to take this!
The trick after that is to get off the fake call and get on your iPod making sure that there is no time in between for the fraand to make conversation.
This is usually encountered more in day-trains.

While there are other caregories, [like Pundits who I find very puzzling. They've actually managed to scare my aunt off a train], I will stop here. Simply because the people who watch you while you sleep, don't deserve any space on my blog. That's how much I hate them.

55 Fiction

So Weirdo Guy, in his blog, out of utter boredom, he claims, did this. 55 Fiction is where you attempt a short story in 55 words. Here's my attempt. Don't be too harsh.

He wished he’d bought that rocking chair she’d always wanted, where she could sit and read the morning paper and sip that obnoxiously expensive tea.

“But that’ll have to wait”, he thought; as he watched the rest of the ship sink, grabbing on to his plank which was floating further and further away into nothingness.

There, exactly 55 words. And while I feel compelled to add a smiley face over here, I won't

Colonial Hangover Cream™

I was trying so hard to find a fairness cream that works. I was so worried, you know? Considering that on shaadi.com, I could only register my complexion as "wheatish", which is code word for "I'm sorry I'm not milky white in colour", I was worried that I wouldn't get married.

What if the prospective groom came and saw that I was brown and then said he wouldn't marry me? I would have been so embarrassed. Fair and Lovely™ doesn't work for me; nor does any other product in the market. Which is why I created my own fairness product, Colonial Hangover Cream™!

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2012: The Clichés Alone Will Kill Us All

Today I watched the Adam Lambert Official Video for his single 'Time For Miracles'. I am now miserable. Don't get me wrong, though the song isn't my favourite, it is definitely tolerable and my love for Adam Lambert only makes it even more tolerable. He can barely do anything I can't forgive.

Unfortunately though, this video tests my ability to forgive him, simply because it made me relive those two and a half hours of wanting to stab my own eye with a fork I endured while watching the movie 2012. [For those of you who are a little slow, the video was merely a string of clips from the movie]

I have decided to begin this piece by defining the movie 2012. It is a series of mind-numbing doomsday cliches packed into a never ending series, flavoured with over-dramatization and bad acting. Nothing is impossible, especially if it's done in the 99999th nanosecond. You know why? It's because John Cusack is AWESOME! [apparently]

Anyway for those of you who haven't watched the movie, I'm going to spoil it for you. Also, I posted this so late only cause I didn't want all of you to yell at me for ruining it. [Actually I was just lazy]

The most effective way to express my anguish, in my opinion, is to list the highlights, i mean, lowlights of this godforsaken movie:

1. John Cusack is the only bloke who has figured out that the World is going to end. He saves his family in a car which drives away from the family home with cracks following it constantly. Every single car behind them falls into the cracks. Everybody else dies.
2. A giant volcano is erupting and the earth is giving way, sinking into the lava. John Cusack has gone to retrieve a map which will save them all. The rest of the family [ex-wife, kids, their step-dad] is waiting in an airplane which his ex-wife's current plastic surgeon husband can conveniently fly. The road is giving way, the massive cracks slowly approaching the plane. They need to take off. There seems to be no hope for Cusack. Sad. But wait! What's that?? At the FINAL second, Cusack's hand is seen gripping for safety just when everyone thought he was dead. He runs into the plane.
3. Cusack running into the plane happens in such spectacular timing that the plane has just enough time to take off with the cracks ripping straight towards the wheels at a convenient speed. Just as the plane takes off, the whole area is done away with. Crash and burn, non-Cusack-people.
4. The Indian scientist who predicted 2012 is in New Delhi, which is a village. He speaks English with a fake Indian accent and Hindi with a Western accent. It really wouldn't have killed them to bring in an Indian from India for the two odd minutes of screen time. Oh, and how can I forget? He had a convoluted name that most Indians themselves haven't heard of.
5. Old, fat, stinking rich, arrogant Russian; with a Russian supermodel arm-candy and complete with fake Russian accent. One of the only individuals with a ticket to the "Arcs" which are going to save a few people. Cusack works for this fellow. And Mr.Plane-Flying-Plastic-Surgeon gave his little keep a boob-job! Convenient!
6. Russian family, Cusack's family and super stud-like Russian Pilot manage to get on a giant plane taking them to China where the Arcs are. Two buildings collapse into each other, the plane just about scrapes through by tipping on its side a narrowly escaping the crash. Just because Cusack is in it.
7. Russian tyrant turns out to be a fat meany who dumps them all in the middle of China where they find an awesome monk and his family who takes them to the Arcs. Blah blah, they sneak in.
8. Nobody picked up the Indian scientist. He and his family die a tragic death along with several other Indians in brightly coloured clothes, clutching sacks of belongings and trekking across the village of New Delhi. There are no more Indians in the world. Because I saw none in the Arcs either.
9. The President of the United States dies a heroic death [after a heart-wrenching goodbye to his daughter] saving some people who were about to die anyway; just outside the White House.
10. Oh No! Doomsday Countdown! The waves rush in, the Arcs dislodge, but wait! Cusack hasn't been heroic enough. He might just get overshadowed by the President! His Arc has a problem! So our man goes on a suicide mission to fix the jam, swimming through a lot of water. He and his son save the Arc. I can understand how the son was underwater for a while. But Cusack was in there for centuries. He held his breath for a super-human fifteen minutes straight! That's what I call AWESOME!
11. And finally, the happy ending. Cusack's ex-wife's new husband conveniently dies. They are reunited again. His kids love him. The Arc docks safely in Africa which survives it all. All the people in the Arc are either White or Chinese [because they decided to let the workers in due to some sudden stroke of humanity]. The Indians all perish but since Africa survived, maybe they can mix some Black people and White people and make some Brown people.

The only reason I didn't walk out of the theatre is because I hadn't finished my Cheese Popcorn which tastes too phenomenal to waste. Also, a whole bunch of my friends were watching with me and I needed a ride home. But if I had a choice, I'd take those 2 hours and 40 minutes of my life back, along with the Rs.120 I spent on my ticket.