We were returning from a movie last night. We were generally ambling across the parking lot with the light rail station in sight, and discussing the movie, cutting jokes, etc when we spotted our train from a distance. It was pretty late and the frequency of trains was very little at this hour, so I started to run for it. "Oh leave it... we can't make it", one of them said. I replied, "Lets give it a shot at least", and dashed for the train. I vaguely heard some mumbling from them, something like "too far" or "no time" or something. But I paid no heed --- I was already sprinting and assumed that they will follow.
I was surprised on the way, however. Two of the three others go to the gym regularly, and I started going with them only recently. Also, I'm not a great sprinter, and add to that the broken foot I've got --- I definitely am not the fastest person around. And yet, I was leading them in the chase. "Well, maybe I had a headstart" I thought. I reached the train doors huffing and puffing: people were still coming off the coaches, and others were waiting to board. "Made it in time, yaay!", I thought. And then I stopped and looked back. My roomies had half-ran the distance, and then given up midway --- they were standing a long way away from the platform, sort of watching the show.
I cannot really describe what I felt right then. I'll spare you the choice of words I had for them as I stood there on the platform and let the train leave. But this was really surprising for me. I know that they could have made it, only if they had tried... only if. I don't know what use the gym and all is to them if they couldn't use their stamina outside the gym. Why on earth would someone want to give up without a fight? Thats just not me --- if there is a chance, I'll take it and see it to the end. I would have been happy if we had run and still missed the train. But these folks gave up even without a run, for they had presaged their defeat! I hate it, I just hate it.
Well, whatever it is. I usually don't post such personal stuff here on the blog. But I don't have anywhere else to rant, so you, the readers will have to bear with this one. Maybe I'm just a square peg trying to fit into a round hole, or maybe I need to relax a little in life. But I don't know: maybe it is just not a part of my character to give up without an effort. Sorry about the rant --- will post something happier soon.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
I knew it
Came across this one here: http://www.edulix.com/forum/viewtopic.php?t=41705
Do click and enjoy! :)
Monday, June 25, 2007
Made in China
One of my friends recently returned from an onsite trip from the US to her home in India. As expected, she went home with twice the amount of luggage, carrying gifts for all and sundry. They were duly given out, bringing smiles on the faces of people who got the 'Umreeka se gift'. My friend was happy until she overheard one conversation where an old uncle of hers was commenting (in private) to his wife that my friend had probably bought the gifts in India itself. "See this Made in China stamp here? You can buy these things nowadays in any mall around here!". To say the least, she was very disappointed as she told me about this.
My first reaction was, "Don't get anything for that old bugger from now on. In fact, rub the salt in and get gifts for everyone but that hag". But then I began to wonder why he had such a judgement. Perhaps the reason was that he had never seen the way foreign goods have flooded American markets here. Almost all clothes are made in India or Sri Lanka, stationary comes from Vietnam, electronic items come from Malaysia or Indonesia, and then almost everything else comes from China. Right from bicycles to plates to phones to anything that you can name. So while hunting for gifts for people in Walmart or such places, it is next to impossible to get things that are made exclusively in the USA: you just wouldn't find them! And who says that the American market is the only place that has been flooded by these items? Look around yourself --- these international goods are coming in, at every place, every market. The laws of economics will prevail: whenever there is a cheaper alternative at the same quality, anyone will buy the cheaper one.
The bigger problem perhaps is the naysaying or maybe the colonial hangover. I am pretty sure that his kind of man sits at the roadside tea stall and professes to anyone who has time, "Iss desh ka kuchh nahi ho sakta" (No good can come of this country). The kind who will be the first to tell you all the bad things that can happen if you dare venture outside. The frog in the well who refuses to believe that a sea exists. "Oder deshe eisob hoi naki, okhane sob kichhu machine diye jhotpot hoye jai" (Do you think it happens like this in their country? Everything happens smoothly with a machine there). Through consecutive blood-sucking governments, local hooligans and wearisome riots, they have become cynics --- they cannot believe that something good might come of the whole ruckus. Disappointing, incredulous and despairingly morbid; thats the vibe you get around them: no wonder they can't believe that something made in China might be selling in the USA as well, since it is available locally in India.
The bizzare part is not just the way you see the Asian products flooding the markets, but the actual Asian populace too! Everywhere, there are Indians, Chinese, Koreans, Pakistani, Sri Lankan people around us... it is not the all-blonde thing you imagined from the movies. The world is truly merging, and the product that prevails is the one whose quality over price ratio is the highest. Talk about Indian software engineers, Chinese toys, Sri Lankan jeans trousers: if it is what makes business sense, then you'll find it there. Therefore, all ye family members of mine who will receive gifts from me when I go home, remember... you are bound to get some stuff that is "Made in China".
My first reaction was, "Don't get anything for that old bugger from now on. In fact, rub the salt in and get gifts for everyone but that hag". But then I began to wonder why he had such a judgement. Perhaps the reason was that he had never seen the way foreign goods have flooded American markets here. Almost all clothes are made in India or Sri Lanka, stationary comes from Vietnam, electronic items come from Malaysia or Indonesia, and then almost everything else comes from China. Right from bicycles to plates to phones to anything that you can name. So while hunting for gifts for people in Walmart or such places, it is next to impossible to get things that are made exclusively in the USA: you just wouldn't find them! And who says that the American market is the only place that has been flooded by these items? Look around yourself --- these international goods are coming in, at every place, every market. The laws of economics will prevail: whenever there is a cheaper alternative at the same quality, anyone will buy the cheaper one.
The bigger problem perhaps is the naysaying or maybe the colonial hangover. I am pretty sure that his kind of man sits at the roadside tea stall and professes to anyone who has time, "Iss desh ka kuchh nahi ho sakta" (No good can come of this country). The kind who will be the first to tell you all the bad things that can happen if you dare venture outside. The frog in the well who refuses to believe that a sea exists. "Oder deshe eisob hoi naki, okhane sob kichhu machine diye jhotpot hoye jai" (Do you think it happens like this in their country? Everything happens smoothly with a machine there). Through consecutive blood-sucking governments, local hooligans and wearisome riots, they have become cynics --- they cannot believe that something good might come of the whole ruckus. Disappointing, incredulous and despairingly morbid; thats the vibe you get around them: no wonder they can't believe that something made in China might be selling in the USA as well, since it is available locally in India.
The bizzare part is not just the way you see the Asian products flooding the markets, but the actual Asian populace too! Everywhere, there are Indians, Chinese, Koreans, Pakistani, Sri Lankan people around us... it is not the all-blonde thing you imagined from the movies. The world is truly merging, and the product that prevails is the one whose quality over price ratio is the highest. Talk about Indian software engineers, Chinese toys, Sri Lankan jeans trousers: if it is what makes business sense, then you'll find it there. Therefore, all ye family members of mine who will receive gifts from me when I go home, remember... you are bound to get some stuff that is "Made in China".
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Why I love going home
- You get to hear the sound of mom's voice from the very first second of your morning... imagine not being forced to wake up to a wailing alarm clock and hear your mom calling you instead.
- You don't have to cook, clean or do the laundry.
- Warm, fresh chapatis appear magically on your plate during meals, refills and second helpings come unasked for.
- People will always find that you've thinned and take up the challenge to stuff you enough for the next six months.
- You clothes get magically selected for washing, cleaned, dried, neatly folded and ironed if necessary, and then they appear in the closet.
- You don't need to worry over what will be cooked, and whether it will be available on time.
- People actually bother to come and tell you to come and eat breakfast.
- In fact, they will even drag you to have your food.
- You get to haggle over the price of vegetables in the market, mentally calculating how much you saved when you bring down the price of a cabbage from 0.2 $ to $0.1 .
- You can tell everyone any story about Umreeka and they'll believe it, including flying cars and loose women ;)
- Finally, you love the looks on the kids' faces (a mixture of awe and disgust) when their parents introduce you and tell them, "See, you must become 'great' like that!"
Sunday, June 17, 2007
One hundred percent?
The student had almost dropped her jaws to the floor when she asked that. "Oh yes, arranged marriages are one hundred percent a reality in India and most of the Indian subcontinent, I think" --- I had said. I was having the conversation with a Romanian girl from my research group while we had gone for an outing after our semester was over. And she seemed scandalized. I had to clarify my statement... "Well, the point is, an arranged marriage is an option for every young man or woman in India if they don't find a partner themselves".
We had been discussing a lot of issues that afternoon. Stereotypes such as "Asian/Indian men are shy" or "Indian women don't cheat" and many such things. It was quite interesting, sitting in a group that had one person from India, one from Romania, one Chinese one Bulgarian and one American student, and discussing these issues. From a larger or a global perspective, it was really interesting to find that the concept of an 'arranged marriage' didn't really exist beyond our borders. Yes, people from other countries do meet occasionally through their parents: but the whole issue of matchmaking is a completely different game here. So, when I tried to explain that I grew up like a thousand other young boys around me sound and safe in the belief that when the time to marry comes up and if I haven't found anyone by then, my parents will be there to find a good girl for me; it was really inconceivable for them.
I had to explain the whole concept of families meeting, background checks, boy meeting girl and then a longer time and list of subsequent meetings. I had to confirm for them that the first person you meet is not your only choice... people sometimes take years looking for the 'right' person. I also learned about their cultures: how dates are set up, how they meet people and how they also try to spend a long time with each other before the question of marriage comes up. But the conversation had also set me thinking about the stereotypes and the whole debate of the arranged versus love marriage, etc.
As I understand it for now, the reason why Indian men/women are considered shy by these people is that we don't have the evolutionary pressure to be able to find someone for ourselves, by ourselves. At the back of the head, we would always know that someone will be available through our parents and we can use that option. We see all through our childhoods about the innumerable arranged marriages working around us, with almost zero divorce rates, and so there is no reason to not count on that as a backup option. Besides, ours is a pretty conservative society and in a way, divorce is rarely an option. Education and awareness are spreading, yes... but it will be a long time before we land into rates such as the UK where 1 in 3 marriages break up.
It works both ways, for guys as well as girls. Both the sexes have marriage and commitment jitters, and both of them are on the constant hunt for the good partner: if possibly for life. Therefore, in places where the concept of an arranged marriage doesn't exist, websites advertising "how to catch him and keep him", or "what a girl looks for in a date" are popular. Girls here in the US do therefore have to find the right guys for themselves, and so do the boys, vice versa. In India on the other hand, the need doesn't exist so strenuously and therefore the taboo impositions on girls against "encouraging" men are in vogue.
The other important point is perhaps peer pressure. If everyone in your colony has a boyfriend, or the whole gang of guys you go and play soccer with have girlfriends: you will feel the necessity of getting someone in your life: somehow it adds to the coolness factor. More importantly, at that time, nobody really thinks of marriage and all --- it is just a relationship of calling someone your better half. We all know how to adjust and get along with people in our lives for the rest of it after we're married --- it doesn't really matter unless you end up with someone of the completely obnoxious variety. I personally think that you fall in love with a person you meet through your parents because a) your backgrounds and therefore (hopefully) personality types match, b) you think it is about time you fell in love and c) the sexual drive is also at work! The actual "find" of someone rarely happens: this find in itself should trigger off the feelings of love and protection and romantic advances; not the other way round. I also think that most 'love' marriages are in effect an arranged marriage, the matchmaker being the peer pressure, the media image and all: how else do you explain the largest percentage of relationships from the same classroom or locality? It is not good or bad, just that they prove to me that essentially one adjusts in any relationship. Perhaps, that explains the whole deal with divorces in the Western societies as well.
And then of course there was the whole issue of pre-marital sex. We discussed among ourselves and found that everywhere, the more conservative a society is or the more the rules against it exist: the more rampant it is. India I think is in a middle stage somewhere: conservative by many counts but much more liberal than many other nations. But still --- the issue of finding someone who is attractive naturally is the crux of the matter: when the personalities attract, not by peer pressure or the media image but because the attraction is natural amongst humans... that I believe is the foundation of a true love marriage.
P.S. - Look at the google ads on the left: I knew it!! :D
We had been discussing a lot of issues that afternoon. Stereotypes such as "Asian/Indian men are shy" or "Indian women don't cheat" and many such things. It was quite interesting, sitting in a group that had one person from India, one from Romania, one Chinese one Bulgarian and one American student, and discussing these issues. From a larger or a global perspective, it was really interesting to find that the concept of an 'arranged marriage' didn't really exist beyond our borders. Yes, people from other countries do meet occasionally through their parents: but the whole issue of matchmaking is a completely different game here. So, when I tried to explain that I grew up like a thousand other young boys around me sound and safe in the belief that when the time to marry comes up and if I haven't found anyone by then, my parents will be there to find a good girl for me; it was really inconceivable for them.
I had to explain the whole concept of families meeting, background checks, boy meeting girl and then a longer time and list of subsequent meetings. I had to confirm for them that the first person you meet is not your only choice... people sometimes take years looking for the 'right' person. I also learned about their cultures: how dates are set up, how they meet people and how they also try to spend a long time with each other before the question of marriage comes up. But the conversation had also set me thinking about the stereotypes and the whole debate of the arranged versus love marriage, etc.
As I understand it for now, the reason why Indian men/women are considered shy by these people is that we don't have the evolutionary pressure to be able to find someone for ourselves, by ourselves. At the back of the head, we would always know that someone will be available through our parents and we can use that option. We see all through our childhoods about the innumerable arranged marriages working around us, with almost zero divorce rates, and so there is no reason to not count on that as a backup option. Besides, ours is a pretty conservative society and in a way, divorce is rarely an option. Education and awareness are spreading, yes... but it will be a long time before we land into rates such as the UK where 1 in 3 marriages break up.
It works both ways, for guys as well as girls. Both the sexes have marriage and commitment jitters, and both of them are on the constant hunt for the good partner: if possibly for life. Therefore, in places where the concept of an arranged marriage doesn't exist, websites advertising "how to catch him and keep him", or "what a girl looks for in a date" are popular. Girls here in the US do therefore have to find the right guys for themselves, and so do the boys, vice versa. In India on the other hand, the need doesn't exist so strenuously and therefore the taboo impositions on girls against "encouraging" men are in vogue.
The other important point is perhaps peer pressure. If everyone in your colony has a boyfriend, or the whole gang of guys you go and play soccer with have girlfriends: you will feel the necessity of getting someone in your life: somehow it adds to the coolness factor. More importantly, at that time, nobody really thinks of marriage and all --- it is just a relationship of calling someone your better half. We all know how to adjust and get along with people in our lives for the rest of it after we're married --- it doesn't really matter unless you end up with someone of the completely obnoxious variety. I personally think that you fall in love with a person you meet through your parents because a) your backgrounds and therefore (hopefully) personality types match, b) you think it is about time you fell in love and c) the sexual drive is also at work! The actual "find" of someone rarely happens: this find in itself should trigger off the feelings of love and protection and romantic advances; not the other way round. I also think that most 'love' marriages are in effect an arranged marriage, the matchmaker being the peer pressure, the media image and all: how else do you explain the largest percentage of relationships from the same classroom or locality? It is not good or bad, just that they prove to me that essentially one adjusts in any relationship. Perhaps, that explains the whole deal with divorces in the Western societies as well.
And then of course there was the whole issue of pre-marital sex. We discussed among ourselves and found that everywhere, the more conservative a society is or the more the rules against it exist: the more rampant it is. India I think is in a middle stage somewhere: conservative by many counts but much more liberal than many other nations. But still --- the issue of finding someone who is attractive naturally is the crux of the matter: when the personalities attract, not by peer pressure or the media image but because the attraction is natural amongst humans... that I believe is the foundation of a true love marriage.
P.S. - Look at the google ads on the left: I knew it!! :D
Friday, June 15, 2007
The desi romeo guide
I'm posting this as a blatant copy and paste from here: http://www.ce.berkeley.edu/~ubasu/iitk/jokes/desi-romeo.html
But worth the read... every single bit.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
%%%% THE DESI ROMEOS GUIDE-BOOK
%%%%
%%%% By Prem!(prem@prem.lbl.gov)
%%%% with contributions by ACReddy (aceman@netcom.com).
%%%%
%%%%(PHYLUM: Desi,GENUS: Romeonensis)
%%%%
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Since the annual induction of new recruits into s.c.i. is under way,
let me start the ball rolling on the touchy topic of the intrepid
romeo's courtship ritual...
I would love to say that any resemblance to people living or married is
a coincidence,but unfortunately that isn't really the case.It has
been my misfortune to come across despos who fit at least one description
very well.Some of the descriptions here are based on the outrageous
opinions expressed by our dudes in private in an all-male environment,
usually in a stag party while consuming egg-curry and the ubiquitous
'chole' and raita, and chugging cheap beer.They probably did not
expect these clandestine details of the courtship ritual would
becomepublic knowledge... so sue me.:-)
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
SMOOTHIES :The Smoothest, The Slimiest:
We begin with the SMOOTHIES...those who have been here for a year
or two, some of whom are resigned to spending a couple more years on
their Ph.D., and have that magic phrase "I have a car".Having thus
established their solid gold credentials with the new girls as the
"guys-to-be-smiled-at-so-that-they-can-be-asked-for-rides-to-groceries",
they are the elite of the desi student circle.
Common come-ons used by the Smoothies include:
________________________________________________________________________
THE TALENT AGENT:(Romeonensis Recruitus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hello,I am Dr. Breslauer's RA."
The romeo who uses this line usually has been working for 3 years with
a well-funded prof in the department, whose RA'ship offers are being
actively sought after by the freshies.He really has NO say whatsoever
in the decision, but until the RA'ships are decided, this guy is sitting
pretty.We would advise him to move quickly and snare a naive new
student before the RAships are assigned.His answering machine usually
gets a lot of messages in the month RA'ships are assigned...
he only calls back the female callers... the guys will just have to call
him again...
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEY GROPER: (Romeonensis Gropius)
( Also known as the DANCE MASTER )
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-lines:
"Hi, would you like to take the ballroom dancing class with me?"
The oldest sleaze-bucket trick.
Ulterior motive: To grope and fondle forbidden flesh.
This is the smoothie who religiously attends all the new-student
orientation parties...scopes out all the 'fast' ones who venture out
on the dance floor... generally goes for quasi ABCD's or Bombay types
...The only species of romeo who is sleazy enough to even hit on
married women.A standard approach is to pay a shallow compliment to
half a dozen girls (one at a time, of course!) such as:
"Hello, you have very nice voice.Just like MS Subbulakshmi."
OR
"Hello, you dance very well.Did you take dance lessons?"
Our lady-of-the-dance-floor invariably giggles and says:
"No, I only took bharatanatyam when I was little."
Hmmm...Excellent candidate for hitting upon later.So our groper
invites her over (with some other friends, of course) to his house
a couple of evenings for dinner...and then pops the question...
"There is a ballroom dance class every Tuesday evening.Would you
like to be my partner...you dance really well (yeah, of course!)"
Some of the intended victims see the slime dripping all over him,
but there is always one innocent girl who falls for the oldest trick
in the desi-lothario's repertoire...and our groper-friend is all
set to get his paws ready for a semester's groping and fondling,all
for just 45 bucks registration fee (split 22.50 each, of course...).
Plus he can look forward to being taken out to Pizza Hut by drooling
roomies and wanna-be-slimeys who get their kicks by his serious
XXX-rated description of each dance-class.
He struts and brags, and within a day, the entire romeo community is
aware of his conquest.A couple of his cronies call him up (even
long-distance!) to "congratulate" him on his success at luring yet
another freshie with the old trick:
"saale, hat-trick maar diya, last year Pooja ko pataaya, last sem
Rajni ko, aur abhi isko bhi thokne ka plaan bana raha hai kya?
Kya class le raha hai, saala, Lambada sikha na usko!!Heh heh heh,
Saala, congrats yaar!*sneer**smirk**nudge*".
All his friends snigger in the background and start making plans to
hit upon the poor girl who, of course, is absolutely _thrilled_ at
being the "popular" girl...
Poor chick (who may still be in denial of having fallen for such an
obvious trick) gets the reputation of being "fast", "dumb" and an easy
lay;is doomed to fighting off sleazy advances from every desi
desperado in town for the rest of her sojourn at the Univ.After she
graduates and leaves, she becomes a legendary figure, the yardstick for
measuring "fastness", and the stories just get embellished more for the
entertainment of new students for years to come.
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEY SCOPER: (Romeonensis Scopius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I have olympic size swimming pool in my apartment.
I can teach you swimming...?"
The lesser twin of the Slimey Groper.Moves 17 blocks away from the
University just because the apartment has a swimming pool.Always
plans elaborate "pool-parties",which invariably end up with a
dude-dudette ratio of 14-to-2(one of them being the ever popular
"dance class" victim who is always invited to parties for all the wrong
reasons...).
________________________________________________________________________
THE CHAUFFEUR: (Romeonensis Mobilus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I am going to K-Mart.You want ride? I have one extra seat..."
Actually, there will be two extra seats vacant,three if you count
that ragged one with the funny oil-stain...but of course, the chances
of a freshie saying yes to going anywhere alone with him would be slim
... so the reassuring "one seat is vacant..."implying that there will
be other people present...
________________________________________________________________________
THE CHAUFFEUR DELUXE:(Romeonensis Mobilus Ultra)
(Romeonensis Mobilus Alpina/Pioneera/Aiwa/Audiovoxa)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I am going to K-Mart.You want a ride? I have a car stereo..."
A sub-species of the common-or-garden Chauffeur.The distinguishing
mark being that funny noises bearing a passing resemblance to an old
Dire Straits song occasionally emanate from a wheezy speaker hidden
in the recesses of his automobile.
________________________________________________________________________
THE MOVIE MOGUL: (Romeonensis Cinematicus)
========================================================================
He doesn't have a car.He doesn't have the Slimey Groper's ability to
cheat and deceive.He has tried asking newbies out to ballroom class,
but somehow, all of them have seen through him, and the really dumb ones
have already been snapped up for "ballroom-dance-classes" by the Slimey
Groper.
But he does have that master ace up his sleeve, or more accurately,
perched precariously atop his tv... the magic box that has the power
to induce women to stay past midnight in his apartment... the VCR.
Manages to get some newbie dudettes into his apartment to watch
"Nayagan" or "Roja", or that old reliable, "Sholay".
(editor's note:This was first written in 1992.Hence the
Nayagan/Roja reference.I dunno which movies
are currently in vogue for this purpose.)
Ten minutes into the movie, Movie Mogul changes into his lungi.His
roomie plays the good host with nachos & cheese dip. He makes coffee
with his lungi hitched up in half & a kitchen towel on his shoulder.
These dudes try to impress their guests by shouting dialogues a good
two minutes before the scene.Sonia, from Delhi, has no clue what is
going on.The next time she visits, it will only be for help with
Math805 assignment.
________________________________________________________________________
THE FATHER FIGURE: (Romeonensis Paterfamilias)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hello...No, no! Don't call me uncle."
He is the one person on campus who has the one quality all other
lotharios envy: an aura of harmless trustworthiness...
Full sleeve tericott bush-shirt (Amba Tailors, Rajajinagar), tight
dress pants, Bata shoes recently replaced with black Reeboks, same
nylon socks - all 4 seasons.Need I mention Brahmi Amla Hair Oil?
Has lots of "Platonic" friendships.Hates Plato.Wishes Plato had
never been born.
He is usually on excellent terms with the veteran desi females on
campus.This gives him instant respectability among the newbies.
Always trust-worthy, courteous and helpful.Other desi guys hate
his guts, because newbies soon learn that it is far better to ask him
for a ride than one of the other desperadoes...Keeps an umbrella in
his office.Walks chicks home on rainy days.Of course, he dares not
try anything for fear of losing his reputation...Always afraid
someone will discover his stash of porno magazines hidden under the
bathroom sink.
________________________________________________________________________
THE INTER-RACIAL: (Romeonensis Miscegeneticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, this is Debbie, my date."
The guy who is on top of the world.For the moment.The one with the
"gori" girlfriend "Debbie".He speaks not of Diwali, but of Thanksgiving.
He has the respect and admiration from all the juniors."Saale ne gori
ko pataa liya yaar."His seniors don't particularly care because they
know that Debbie was a drunken loser the semester before he turned up.
He dreams of getting a green-card through Debbie, the US Citizen. This
dude has never been south of Chicago, but has contracted the Southern
Drawl from his g.f.Tries to convince everyone that Debbie was really a
virgin until he met her.He has tried to convince others so hard of this
that he almost believes it himself...
Debbie Dumps Desi when she gets a real job and moves to another town.
________________________________________________________________________
THE ECLECTICUS: (Romeonensis Eclecticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Like, hi man, what a scene.Like I was totally lubed man...
totally like an Ephemeris video dude... like blow me man."
Very, very rare - this dude listens exclusively to new age, drives a
beat up Bug with psychedelic murals on the fenders and a stained glass
rear-window... has Dali posters in his living room, a nude he sketched
himself in his bathroom, an open condom pack on the counter.This dude
actually brews his own beer. Long hair and an earring seems de riguer.
Never tries to pick-up desi chicks...usually accompanied by a pale,
skinny, raggedy blonde with a nose-ring and a tattoo, and a couple of
pot joints in her pocket...
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The "Seniors":
This is the underclass of the desi lothario heirarchy.
Those who have been here a scant one or two semesters, and have not yet
acquired a car.Some of them purchase a VCR and turn into wanna-be
movie-moguls.But they haven't yet acquired the smoothies' savoir
faire, and the easy sense of 'I belong here' that distinguishes the
sleazemen from the sleazeboys.
________________________________________________________________________
THE TOURIST GUIDE: (Romeonensis Peripateticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Last month, when I was in Grand Canyon..."
This is the guy-on-the-move, the going-places dude... or that is the
impression he gives.Overrates the already over-rated.Doesn't mention
that he had never left the premises of the campus until that big trip
to the edge of the Grand Canyon.Drove a rental subcompact crammed
with 5 desis singing to Kishore Kumar songs on the tape player all the
way.Always argues about whether Yose-might or Yose-miti is the right
pronunciation... although he hasn't really ever been to Yosemite.
His main drawing power is the tale about how his co-driver was caught
speeding on the highway.Feels smug until someone mentions the ticket
he got for reversing into the freeway from an exit-ramp.
Will try to pick up newbies by talking about how he can rent a car
with his American Express Chaarj card.Fails spectacularly.
________________________________________________________________________
THE PHOTOOO-JOURNALIST:(Romeonensis Autofocus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"This is me in front of Universal Studios..."
Carefully documents his summer vacation with the photooos taken in
front of prominent landmarks,including uncle Chunnibhai's motel in
Bakersfield.These photoos are commonly referred to as "Patel-Shots".
His approach is not "u have to see to believe it", it's more like "look
at this foto, yaar, I have been there" showing a patel shot. Invites
people to his apartment to see the pictures.Hardly any success...
________________________________________________________________________
THE NOT-SO-GOOD SAMARITAN:(Romeonensis Nefarius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"You are taking 'Advanced Computer Calisthenics'?No problem.Friend
took it last semester. Will get you the book. It costs 40
dollars."
Freshie giggles and simpers a thank you, thinking, "what a nice guy!",
and our samaritan extrapolates this into a wild fantasy.
"She wants me!I bet she wants me baaaad!", he keeps telling himself
as he runs to the university book store through the pouring rain and
buys the book (sorry, no used version available).
Two weeks later, ladki bhee gayee, paisa bhee gaya.How does he manage
to afford this? Well, he takes the book back from the freshie at the end
of the semester and returns it for a 60% refund at the bookstore.
________________________________________________________________________
THE FRUGAL GOURMET: (Romeonensis Gustatus-Parsimonius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"No, no.Taco Bell doesn't use lard.And Taco Bell has unlimited
Pepsi refill macha!!But MacDonald's has good milkshake."
Apart from being the fast-food aficionado, he has also mastered the
art of making tostadas at home.Expert on cooking advice, though
most of his dinners comprise of two burritos to go and unlimited
small pepsi.
Gets one and only one "date" to go to Taco Bell.She doesn't talk to
him again for the rest of the semester.When questioned,he only
says, "oh, she wants to go out again, but she is too busy."She, on
the other hand, usually changes the subject when the topic comes up.
________________________________________________________________________
THE WANNABE MOVIE MOGUL:(Romeonensis Cinematicus Minora)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi.I have VCR."
Has very little success with that pick-up line.Wonders whether he
should not have spent that 150 bucks on the Korean VCR...Has got
into the habit of eating Doritos and Coke for dinner while sprawled in
front of the telly.
Uses room-freshener and cologne inter-changeably.Generally dejected at
not havin' "patao"ed a single chic in spite of the VCR.Doesn't realize
it may have something to do with the fact that he tried to trick a
freshie dudette into getting "hot" by watching a XXX-rated movie...
________________________________________________________________________
THE ASPIRING INTER-RACIAL: (Romeonensis Miscegeneticus Minora)
========================================================================
Cut-offs, "just do me" T shirt, coasters from payless shoes,
$2 reflecting sunglasses with neon threads, baseball cap worn
backwards, just like Puke-Daddy-MC on MTV.
He hangs out with the smoothie interracial (refer to description above)
all the time, and picks up enough skills to have moderate success in the
ABCD crowd.Has hopes of someday getting out of his relationship with
the ABCD, but chances of survival are pretty slim.He is usually married
to the ABCD by the time he graduates, or very shortly thereafter. The
juniors, of course, marvel at his girlfriend, and try to hit on her
so that she can get _them_ dates.
________________________________________________________________________
THE IIT-ian:(Romeonensis Clanicus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi. I am from IIT-B.I was 247th in JEE.My name is Raj."
Has even lesser success with that pick-up line than the wannabe-mogul.
None of the "smoothies" use this line because they have realized no one
gives a damn.Our IIT-ian still clings on in the fervent hope that the
cachet of his undergraduate institution will make nubile young things
swoon with awe. Sure,ex-IIT-ian chicks hang out with him, but hey,
we all know that ain't worth squat...
Faded blue Levis, round-neck Tee, mostly wears bathroom slippers from
hostel days. No wrist watch.Hasn't given up smoking yet.Main source
of entertainment:the e-mail list of all his IIT batchmates...
Can't understand how that other guy, a non-IITian (gasp), gets all the
dates. Drowns his loneliness by hanging out with wing-mates from IIT-B
and reminiscing about old Katre, the Taklu tutor at Agrawal's.
When introduced to new IIT-M arrivals, always asks them which hostel they
they were from: Goda or Mandaks?
________________________________________________________________________
THE SUPER-TECHIE: (Romeonensis Esotericus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"then you issue an asynchronous sigint to the child process
through
the named pipe which induces it and fork a subcommand in the same
kernel thread which..."
As expected, he has little success with anyone, except newbies who need
help figuring out how to log into their accounts.Needless to say,
these newbies don't understand the detailed login instructions our
Super-Techie gives them.
While "helping" them, he manages to get their passwords and reads all
their personal email for the next two semesters.If this doesn't work,
he can break into their computer anyway.Generally considered a
reliable source for gossip about the freshies' private affairs.
Freshie guys always come to him for info on how to decode the gifs on
alt.sex.pictures...
When officemate asks about lost car keys, helpfully suggests grep-ing
for them iteratively in /usr/office/desk -drawer and /usr/pants/pockets.
Usually seen in plain shirt (or whatever mom sent him), pair of jeans,
unkempt hair, didn't-shave-or-shower-in-2-days-look.A bold HMT
(grandpa's high school graduation gift) adorns the wrist.Survives on
pizza, Cheetos and Jolt.Has programmed the vending machine into
selling him candy for a nickel.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The "Freshie" Dudes:
Pretty much nothing to say about the freshie guys.Most of them are
preoccupied with settling into graduate student life.So their Romeo-
nating characteristics have not yet come sufficiently to the fore to
enable classification.
And since they have not been accepted by credit card companies yet,
their ability to go out on dates is somewhat hampered.Which is not
a problem, because with the standard opening line:
"Hello, I am from Gowripalya in Ramnagar, where you are from?",
or the ever popular:
"What is your mother tongue?" ,
they really don't have much luck in getting a date.
And the fact that these guys were fighting bitterly over a dog-eared
three-year-old issue of Penthouse in the T.A.lab last Tuesday doesn't
help their chances...
________________________________________________________________________
THEDEHAATI: (Romeonensis Rusticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"yhou know what haapined when I came out of airport?
I got taxi, and yhou know, taxiwala was Indian!"
Always speaks about a couple of octaves higher than necessary.Responds
to the name "Babloo".Just arrived from Gorakhpur.Absolutely thrilled
that the taxi he took from the airport was driven by a Jat dude from
Faridabad.Exchanges phone numbers with taxi-dude and resolves to keep
in touch with the fellow.Writes to mom about it.
Contacts relatives in "Buphalo", "Peetsburg" and "Batlimore" (no, not
a typo) on the first day to inform them that 'he has arrived'.Gets
confused by the answering machine at his cousin's number in "Arijona"
and leaves a completely undecipherable message.
Buys a large economy size bottle of Brut on his first grocery trip.
Before stepping out of the apartment, BRUT goes under arms, on shirt,
back side of shirt, inside shirt, inside the VIP brief...
While some desi romeos buy Aqua Velva (utmost parsimony),the Dehaati
pays a few cents more for "achcha khaasaa boo".
Suitcase filled with latest line in safari suits from Gorakhpur. Wears
kurta-achkan and shiny new Reebok sneakers to orientation.
Wants to buy Haanda Civeec.
Wants to patao sitijen or haraa pathey waali.
No wonder, dude is chasing our younger cousins (aka undergrad ABCDs).
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEBALL: (Romeonensis Mucus)
========================================================================
Silently scopes out all the 'chicks',with help from his mentor, the
Slimey Groper.Tries to score but strikes out because the slime is
still a little too obvious.Hits on other people's wives/girlfriends
at the orientation.Tries to hit on every American girl who smiles at
him.Backstabs to get assistantships.
Insists on walking girls home from department at night.
"Arrey, very dangerous, you know, not like Mylapore.Last week only
my friend Rick got mugged on Maple Avenue...Chalo, chalo, let me
walk you home...Oh you want to work in lab for two more hours?
No problem, I can wait..."
In the end, the poor girl ends up calling our trustworthy Father Figure
(see the smoothie section for description) to escort her home.
Father Figure smoothly whisks the maiden away, ignoring our slimeball's
scowl and flashing him a cordial smile...
Consummate geek that he is,recycles centuries old jokes he reads on
rec.humor.Every alternate sentence is punctuated with a reference to
beer.Has practically memorized the list of reasons "Why beer is better
than women".But two cans of pissweak lager make him tipsy.Manages to
hitch his wagon to his idol, the Slimey-Groper and begins to try out
some tricks but without immediate success...shows promise...
If people still trust him in two years, he may turn into a successful
limey Groper.Until then, he organizes pot-luck parties.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
But worth the read... every single bit.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
%%%% THE DESI ROMEOS GUIDE-BOOK
%%%%
%%%% By Prem!(prem@prem.lbl.gov)
%%%% with contributions by ACReddy (aceman@netcom.com).
%%%%
%%%%(PHYLUM: Desi,GENUS: Romeonensis)
%%%%
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Since the annual induction of new recruits into s.c.i. is under way,
let me start the ball rolling on the touchy topic of the intrepid
romeo's courtship ritual...
I would love to say that any resemblance to people living or married is
a coincidence,but unfortunately that isn't really the case.It has
been my misfortune to come across despos who fit at least one description
very well.Some of the descriptions here are based on the outrageous
opinions expressed by our dudes in private in an all-male environment,
usually in a stag party while consuming egg-curry and the ubiquitous
'chole' and raita, and chugging cheap beer.They probably did not
expect these clandestine details of the courtship ritual would
becomepublic knowledge... so sue me.:-)
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
SMOOTHIES :The Smoothest, The Slimiest:
We begin with the SMOOTHIES...those who have been here for a year
or two, some of whom are resigned to spending a couple more years on
their Ph.D., and have that magic phrase "I have a car".Having thus
established their solid gold credentials with the new girls as the
"guys-to-be-smiled-at-so-that-they-can-be-asked-for-rides-to-groceries",
they are the elite of the desi student circle.
Common come-ons used by the Smoothies include:
________________________________________________________________________
THE TALENT AGENT:(Romeonensis Recruitus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hello,I am Dr. Breslauer's RA."
The romeo who uses this line usually has been working for 3 years with
a well-funded prof in the department, whose RA'ship offers are being
actively sought after by the freshies.He really has NO say whatsoever
in the decision, but until the RA'ships are decided, this guy is sitting
pretty.We would advise him to move quickly and snare a naive new
student before the RAships are assigned.His answering machine usually
gets a lot of messages in the month RA'ships are assigned...
he only calls back the female callers... the guys will just have to call
him again...
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEY GROPER: (Romeonensis Gropius)
( Also known as the DANCE MASTER )
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-lines:
"Hi, would you like to take the ballroom dancing class with me?"
The oldest sleaze-bucket trick.
Ulterior motive: To grope and fondle forbidden flesh.
This is the smoothie who religiously attends all the new-student
orientation parties...scopes out all the 'fast' ones who venture out
on the dance floor... generally goes for quasi ABCD's or Bombay types
...The only species of romeo who is sleazy enough to even hit on
married women.A standard approach is to pay a shallow compliment to
half a dozen girls (one at a time, of course!) such as:
"Hello, you have very nice voice.Just like MS Subbulakshmi."
OR
"Hello, you dance very well.Did you take dance lessons?"
Our lady-of-the-dance-floor invariably giggles and says:
"No, I only took bharatanatyam when I was little."
Hmmm...Excellent candidate for hitting upon later.So our groper
invites her over (with some other friends, of course) to his house
a couple of evenings for dinner...and then pops the question...
"There is a ballroom dance class every Tuesday evening.Would you
like to be my partner...you dance really well (yeah, of course!)"
Some of the intended victims see the slime dripping all over him,
but there is always one innocent girl who falls for the oldest trick
in the desi-lothario's repertoire...and our groper-friend is all
set to get his paws ready for a semester's groping and fondling,all
for just 45 bucks registration fee (split 22.50 each, of course...).
Plus he can look forward to being taken out to Pizza Hut by drooling
roomies and wanna-be-slimeys who get their kicks by his serious
XXX-rated description of each dance-class.
He struts and brags, and within a day, the entire romeo community is
aware of his conquest.A couple of his cronies call him up (even
long-distance!) to "congratulate" him on his success at luring yet
another freshie with the old trick:
"saale, hat-trick maar diya, last year Pooja ko pataaya, last sem
Rajni ko, aur abhi isko bhi thokne ka plaan bana raha hai kya?
Kya class le raha hai, saala, Lambada sikha na usko!!Heh heh heh,
Saala, congrats yaar!*sneer**smirk**nudge*".
All his friends snigger in the background and start making plans to
hit upon the poor girl who, of course, is absolutely _thrilled_ at
being the "popular" girl...
Poor chick (who may still be in denial of having fallen for such an
obvious trick) gets the reputation of being "fast", "dumb" and an easy
lay;is doomed to fighting off sleazy advances from every desi
desperado in town for the rest of her sojourn at the Univ.After she
graduates and leaves, she becomes a legendary figure, the yardstick for
measuring "fastness", and the stories just get embellished more for the
entertainment of new students for years to come.
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEY SCOPER: (Romeonensis Scopius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I have olympic size swimming pool in my apartment.
I can teach you swimming...?"
The lesser twin of the Slimey Groper.Moves 17 blocks away from the
University just because the apartment has a swimming pool.Always
plans elaborate "pool-parties",which invariably end up with a
dude-dudette ratio of 14-to-2(one of them being the ever popular
"dance class" victim who is always invited to parties for all the wrong
reasons...).
________________________________________________________________________
THE CHAUFFEUR: (Romeonensis Mobilus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I am going to K-Mart.You want ride? I have one extra seat..."
Actually, there will be two extra seats vacant,three if you count
that ragged one with the funny oil-stain...but of course, the chances
of a freshie saying yes to going anywhere alone with him would be slim
... so the reassuring "one seat is vacant..."implying that there will
be other people present...
________________________________________________________________________
THE CHAUFFEUR DELUXE:(Romeonensis Mobilus Ultra)
(Romeonensis Mobilus Alpina/Pioneera/Aiwa/Audiovoxa)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, I am going to K-Mart.You want a ride? I have a car stereo..."
A sub-species of the common-or-garden Chauffeur.The distinguishing
mark being that funny noises bearing a passing resemblance to an old
Dire Straits song occasionally emanate from a wheezy speaker hidden
in the recesses of his automobile.
________________________________________________________________________
THE MOVIE MOGUL: (Romeonensis Cinematicus)
========================================================================
He doesn't have a car.He doesn't have the Slimey Groper's ability to
cheat and deceive.He has tried asking newbies out to ballroom class,
but somehow, all of them have seen through him, and the really dumb ones
have already been snapped up for "ballroom-dance-classes" by the Slimey
Groper.
But he does have that master ace up his sleeve, or more accurately,
perched precariously atop his tv... the magic box that has the power
to induce women to stay past midnight in his apartment... the VCR.
Manages to get some newbie dudettes into his apartment to watch
"Nayagan" or "Roja", or that old reliable, "Sholay".
(editor's note:This was first written in 1992.Hence the
Nayagan/Roja reference.I dunno which movies
are currently in vogue for this purpose.)
Ten minutes into the movie, Movie Mogul changes into his lungi.His
roomie plays the good host with nachos & cheese dip. He makes coffee
with his lungi hitched up in half & a kitchen towel on his shoulder.
These dudes try to impress their guests by shouting dialogues a good
two minutes before the scene.Sonia, from Delhi, has no clue what is
going on.The next time she visits, it will only be for help with
Math805 assignment.
________________________________________________________________________
THE FATHER FIGURE: (Romeonensis Paterfamilias)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hello...No, no! Don't call me uncle."
He is the one person on campus who has the one quality all other
lotharios envy: an aura of harmless trustworthiness...
Full sleeve tericott bush-shirt (Amba Tailors, Rajajinagar), tight
dress pants, Bata shoes recently replaced with black Reeboks, same
nylon socks - all 4 seasons.Need I mention Brahmi Amla Hair Oil?
Has lots of "Platonic" friendships.Hates Plato.Wishes Plato had
never been born.
He is usually on excellent terms with the veteran desi females on
campus.This gives him instant respectability among the newbies.
Always trust-worthy, courteous and helpful.Other desi guys hate
his guts, because newbies soon learn that it is far better to ask him
for a ride than one of the other desperadoes...Keeps an umbrella in
his office.Walks chicks home on rainy days.Of course, he dares not
try anything for fear of losing his reputation...Always afraid
someone will discover his stash of porno magazines hidden under the
bathroom sink.
________________________________________________________________________
THE INTER-RACIAL: (Romeonensis Miscegeneticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi, this is Debbie, my date."
The guy who is on top of the world.For the moment.The one with the
"gori" girlfriend "Debbie".He speaks not of Diwali, but of Thanksgiving.
He has the respect and admiration from all the juniors."Saale ne gori
ko pataa liya yaar."His seniors don't particularly care because they
know that Debbie was a drunken loser the semester before he turned up.
He dreams of getting a green-card through Debbie, the US Citizen. This
dude has never been south of Chicago, but has contracted the Southern
Drawl from his g.f.Tries to convince everyone that Debbie was really a
virgin until he met her.He has tried to convince others so hard of this
that he almost believes it himself...
Debbie Dumps Desi when she gets a real job and moves to another town.
________________________________________________________________________
THE ECLECTICUS: (Romeonensis Eclecticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Like, hi man, what a scene.Like I was totally lubed man...
totally like an Ephemeris video dude... like blow me man."
Very, very rare - this dude listens exclusively to new age, drives a
beat up Bug with psychedelic murals on the fenders and a stained glass
rear-window... has Dali posters in his living room, a nude he sketched
himself in his bathroom, an open condom pack on the counter.This dude
actually brews his own beer. Long hair and an earring seems de riguer.
Never tries to pick-up desi chicks...usually accompanied by a pale,
skinny, raggedy blonde with a nose-ring and a tattoo, and a couple of
pot joints in her pocket...
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The "Seniors":
This is the underclass of the desi lothario heirarchy.
Those who have been here a scant one or two semesters, and have not yet
acquired a car.Some of them purchase a VCR and turn into wanna-be
movie-moguls.But they haven't yet acquired the smoothies' savoir
faire, and the easy sense of 'I belong here' that distinguishes the
sleazemen from the sleazeboys.
________________________________________________________________________
THE TOURIST GUIDE: (Romeonensis Peripateticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Last month, when I was in Grand Canyon..."
This is the guy-on-the-move, the going-places dude... or that is the
impression he gives.Overrates the already over-rated.Doesn't mention
that he had never left the premises of the campus until that big trip
to the edge of the Grand Canyon.Drove a rental subcompact crammed
with 5 desis singing to Kishore Kumar songs on the tape player all the
way.Always argues about whether Yose-might or Yose-miti is the right
pronunciation... although he hasn't really ever been to Yosemite.
His main drawing power is the tale about how his co-driver was caught
speeding on the highway.Feels smug until someone mentions the ticket
he got for reversing into the freeway from an exit-ramp.
Will try to pick up newbies by talking about how he can rent a car
with his American Express Chaarj card.Fails spectacularly.
________________________________________________________________________
THE PHOTOOO-JOURNALIST:(Romeonensis Autofocus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"This is me in front of Universal Studios..."
Carefully documents his summer vacation with the photooos taken in
front of prominent landmarks,including uncle Chunnibhai's motel in
Bakersfield.These photoos are commonly referred to as "Patel-Shots".
His approach is not "u have to see to believe it", it's more like "look
at this foto, yaar, I have been there" showing a patel shot. Invites
people to his apartment to see the pictures.Hardly any success...
________________________________________________________________________
THE NOT-SO-GOOD SAMARITAN:(Romeonensis Nefarius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"You are taking 'Advanced Computer Calisthenics'?No problem.Friend
took it last semester. Will get you the book. It costs 40
dollars."
Freshie giggles and simpers a thank you, thinking, "what a nice guy!",
and our samaritan extrapolates this into a wild fantasy.
"She wants me!I bet she wants me baaaad!", he keeps telling himself
as he runs to the university book store through the pouring rain and
buys the book (sorry, no used version available).
Two weeks later, ladki bhee gayee, paisa bhee gaya.How does he manage
to afford this? Well, he takes the book back from the freshie at the end
of the semester and returns it for a 60% refund at the bookstore.
________________________________________________________________________
THE FRUGAL GOURMET: (Romeonensis Gustatus-Parsimonius)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"No, no.Taco Bell doesn't use lard.And Taco Bell has unlimited
Pepsi refill macha!!But MacDonald's has good milkshake."
Apart from being the fast-food aficionado, he has also mastered the
art of making tostadas at home.Expert on cooking advice, though
most of his dinners comprise of two burritos to go and unlimited
small pepsi.
Gets one and only one "date" to go to Taco Bell.She doesn't talk to
him again for the rest of the semester.When questioned,he only
says, "oh, she wants to go out again, but she is too busy."She, on
the other hand, usually changes the subject when the topic comes up.
________________________________________________________________________
THE WANNABE MOVIE MOGUL:(Romeonensis Cinematicus Minora)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi.I have VCR."
Has very little success with that pick-up line.Wonders whether he
should not have spent that 150 bucks on the Korean VCR...Has got
into the habit of eating Doritos and Coke for dinner while sprawled in
front of the telly.
Uses room-freshener and cologne inter-changeably.Generally dejected at
not havin' "patao"ed a single chic in spite of the VCR.Doesn't realize
it may have something to do with the fact that he tried to trick a
freshie dudette into getting "hot" by watching a XXX-rated movie...
________________________________________________________________________
THE ASPIRING INTER-RACIAL: (Romeonensis Miscegeneticus Minora)
========================================================================
Cut-offs, "just do me" T shirt, coasters from payless shoes,
$2 reflecting sunglasses with neon threads, baseball cap worn
backwards, just like Puke-Daddy-MC on MTV.
He hangs out with the smoothie interracial (refer to description above)
all the time, and picks up enough skills to have moderate success in the
ABCD crowd.Has hopes of someday getting out of his relationship with
the ABCD, but chances of survival are pretty slim.He is usually married
to the ABCD by the time he graduates, or very shortly thereafter. The
juniors, of course, marvel at his girlfriend, and try to hit on her
so that she can get _them_ dates.
________________________________________________________________________
THE IIT-ian:(Romeonensis Clanicus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"Hi. I am from IIT-B.I was 247th in JEE.My name is Raj."
Has even lesser success with that pick-up line than the wannabe-mogul.
None of the "smoothies" use this line because they have realized no one
gives a damn.Our IIT-ian still clings on in the fervent hope that the
cachet of his undergraduate institution will make nubile young things
swoon with awe. Sure,ex-IIT-ian chicks hang out with him, but hey,
we all know that ain't worth squat...
Faded blue Levis, round-neck Tee, mostly wears bathroom slippers from
hostel days. No wrist watch.Hasn't given up smoking yet.Main source
of entertainment:the e-mail list of all his IIT batchmates...
Can't understand how that other guy, a non-IITian (gasp), gets all the
dates. Drowns his loneliness by hanging out with wing-mates from IIT-B
and reminiscing about old Katre, the Taklu tutor at Agrawal's.
When introduced to new IIT-M arrivals, always asks them which hostel they
they were from: Goda or Mandaks?
________________________________________________________________________
THE SUPER-TECHIE: (Romeonensis Esotericus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"then you issue an asynchronous sigint to the child process
through
the named pipe which induces it and fork a subcommand in the same
kernel thread which..."
As expected, he has little success with anyone, except newbies who need
help figuring out how to log into their accounts.Needless to say,
these newbies don't understand the detailed login instructions our
Super-Techie gives them.
While "helping" them, he manages to get their passwords and reads all
their personal email for the next two semesters.If this doesn't work,
he can break into their computer anyway.Generally considered a
reliable source for gossip about the freshies' private affairs.
Freshie guys always come to him for info on how to decode the gifs on
alt.sex.pictures...
When officemate asks about lost car keys, helpfully suggests grep-ing
for them iteratively in /usr/office/desk -drawer and /usr/pants/pockets.
Usually seen in plain shirt (or whatever mom sent him), pair of jeans,
unkempt hair, didn't-shave-or-shower-in-2-days-look.A bold HMT
(grandpa's high school graduation gift) adorns the wrist.Survives on
pizza, Cheetos and Jolt.Has programmed the vending machine into
selling him candy for a nickel.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
The "Freshie" Dudes:
Pretty much nothing to say about the freshie guys.Most of them are
preoccupied with settling into graduate student life.So their Romeo-
nating characteristics have not yet come sufficiently to the fore to
enable classification.
And since they have not been accepted by credit card companies yet,
their ability to go out on dates is somewhat hampered.Which is not
a problem, because with the standard opening line:
"Hello, I am from Gowripalya in Ramnagar, where you are from?",
or the ever popular:
"What is your mother tongue?" ,
they really don't have much luck in getting a date.
And the fact that these guys were fighting bitterly over a dog-eared
three-year-old issue of Penthouse in the T.A.lab last Tuesday doesn't
help their chances...
________________________________________________________________________
THEDEHAATI: (Romeonensis Rusticus)
========================================================================
Favourite Pickup-line:
"yhou know what haapined when I came out of airport?
I got taxi, and yhou know, taxiwala was Indian!"
Always speaks about a couple of octaves higher than necessary.Responds
to the name "Babloo".Just arrived from Gorakhpur.Absolutely thrilled
that the taxi he took from the airport was driven by a Jat dude from
Faridabad.Exchanges phone numbers with taxi-dude and resolves to keep
in touch with the fellow.Writes to mom about it.
Contacts relatives in "Buphalo", "Peetsburg" and "Batlimore" (no, not
a typo) on the first day to inform them that 'he has arrived'.Gets
confused by the answering machine at his cousin's number in "Arijona"
and leaves a completely undecipherable message.
Buys a large economy size bottle of Brut on his first grocery trip.
Before stepping out of the apartment, BRUT goes under arms, on shirt,
back side of shirt, inside shirt, inside the VIP brief...
While some desi romeos buy Aqua Velva (utmost parsimony),the Dehaati
pays a few cents more for "achcha khaasaa boo".
Suitcase filled with latest line in safari suits from Gorakhpur. Wears
kurta-achkan and shiny new Reebok sneakers to orientation.
Wants to buy Haanda Civeec.
Wants to patao sitijen or haraa pathey waali.
No wonder, dude is chasing our younger cousins (aka undergrad ABCDs).
________________________________________________________________________
THE SLIMEBALL: (Romeonensis Mucus)
========================================================================
Silently scopes out all the 'chicks',with help from his mentor, the
Slimey Groper.Tries to score but strikes out because the slime is
still a little too obvious.Hits on other people's wives/girlfriends
at the orientation.Tries to hit on every American girl who smiles at
him.Backstabs to get assistantships.
Insists on walking girls home from department at night.
"Arrey, very dangerous, you know, not like Mylapore.Last week only
my friend Rick got mugged on Maple Avenue...Chalo, chalo, let me
walk you home...Oh you want to work in lab for two more hours?
No problem, I can wait..."
In the end, the poor girl ends up calling our trustworthy Father Figure
(see the smoothie section for description) to escort her home.
Father Figure smoothly whisks the maiden away, ignoring our slimeball's
scowl and flashing him a cordial smile...
Consummate geek that he is,recycles centuries old jokes he reads on
rec.humor.Every alternate sentence is punctuated with a reference to
beer.Has practically memorized the list of reasons "Why beer is better
than women".But two cans of pissweak lager make him tipsy.Manages to
hitch his wagon to his idol, the Slimey-Groper and begins to try out
some tricks but without immediate success...shows promise...
If people still trust him in two years, he may turn into a successful
limey Groper.Until then, he organizes pot-luck parties.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
And they came looking for
By far, the most common keywords that redirect people to this blog relate to GRE and/or GATE, MTech admissions. Which is a good thing, since they find useful things here (hopefully). Also, the second most prolific keywords that lead here are my name. Yes, every time you search for that and come here, I know about you --- it is not exactly such covert sneaking up here, you know! But, amusingly enough, some people land here looking for 'special' things, we shall say, and I intend to answer your queries here as best as I can. Unfortunately, the stock of weird keyword searches is not as long as the ones here or here, so you will get specialized attention.
1. Bengali smell armpit --- Now, why on earth you were looking for the exact smell of Bengali armpits, I'm not sure. Maybe you need some lactatives or purgatives, maybe your mornings are not as 'yellow' as you would want them to be. Or maybe you're frustrated enough with the sample smell of armpits from all over India and you are still hunting for that hardcore stuff... I completely understand. Please don't be frustrated: as soon as you feel suicidal, you can come and smell my socks or my armpits --- they're guaranteed to be the last things you'll ever smell.
2. How do u say ur sexy in Russian --- How on earth am I supposed to know?? Oh, wait, I know! I'm too hot and handsome to be a nerd... thanks. Maybe I'm really the hunk of everyone's dreams, and you found a pic of Anna Kournikova and Maria Sharapova draped all over me. I'll tell you what, you go and get the Russian lady you wanted to pay your compliments to and bring her to me. I'll make sure that she understands it all once you leave her and a piece of paper containing your message with me. Russian privacy, you know...
3. Older woman looking for young man in Kolkata --- Ahh... since you did search for this online, I'm assuming that you must be one of the two protagonists in question. If you're the young man, I see your point. With thousands of fraanship requests spurned on Orkut, anyone who filled an 'F' in the sex column of your engineering college forms must have been the object of your 'hot' pursuits. Unfortunately, you managed to scare away even the most remotely female objects around you. Allegedly the otherwise lovely faces of some girls set into a permanent scowl because you sat in front of them for a week continuously, and they needed special face therapy to undo that damage. Therefore, you turned your attention to the more 'mature' variety of the species (hope, I know), and where else would you find such an 'older' woman but on this blog?
If, however, you were the older woman, then we shall reserve our comments for now --- that is a complete blog post in itself! :P
4. Lovely lady Kolkata --- See, I always knew that there is hope! Even if my MS and PhD dreams do not work out, I have an alternate career option --- being a pimp! Whoever came here looking for lovely ladies in Kolkata must believe that I maintain a list of all such nubile females. And all it will take on my behalf would be a simple phone call or two. The eternal quest for the 'good girl' shall end, and a good girl shall be at your doorstep within the hour: just leave your name and address with me here. Oh, and this blog can also double up as the web portal for "content management", right? Thanks for the suggestion, dear... as soon as I locate the lovely ladies from Kolkata, I'll let you know: they will be more than happy to oblige.
Thank you, dear google, yahoo and ask.com users --- you provide so much fodder for the blog cud!
1. Bengali smell armpit --- Now, why on earth you were looking for the exact smell of Bengali armpits, I'm not sure. Maybe you need some lactatives or purgatives, maybe your mornings are not as 'yellow' as you would want them to be. Or maybe you're frustrated enough with the sample smell of armpits from all over India and you are still hunting for that hardcore stuff... I completely understand. Please don't be frustrated: as soon as you feel suicidal, you can come and smell my socks or my armpits --- they're guaranteed to be the last things you'll ever smell.
2. How do u say ur sexy in Russian --- How on earth am I supposed to know?? Oh, wait, I know! I'm too hot and handsome to be a nerd... thanks. Maybe I'm really the hunk of everyone's dreams, and you found a pic of Anna Kournikova and Maria Sharapova draped all over me. I'll tell you what, you go and get the Russian lady you wanted to pay your compliments to and bring her to me. I'll make sure that she understands it all once you leave her and a piece of paper containing your message with me. Russian privacy, you know...
3. Older woman looking for young man in Kolkata --- Ahh... since you did search for this online, I'm assuming that you must be one of the two protagonists in question. If you're the young man, I see your point. With thousands of fraanship requests spurned on Orkut, anyone who filled an 'F' in the sex column of your engineering college forms must have been the object of your 'hot' pursuits. Unfortunately, you managed to scare away even the most remotely female objects around you. Allegedly the otherwise lovely faces of some girls set into a permanent scowl because you sat in front of them for a week continuously, and they needed special face therapy to undo that damage. Therefore, you turned your attention to the more 'mature' variety of the species (hope, I know), and where else would you find such an 'older' woman but on this blog?
If, however, you were the older woman, then we shall reserve our comments for now --- that is a complete blog post in itself! :P
4. Lovely lady Kolkata --- See, I always knew that there is hope! Even if my MS and PhD dreams do not work out, I have an alternate career option --- being a pimp! Whoever came here looking for lovely ladies in Kolkata must believe that I maintain a list of all such nubile females. And all it will take on my behalf would be a simple phone call or two. The eternal quest for the 'good girl' shall end, and a good girl shall be at your doorstep within the hour: just leave your name and address with me here. Oh, and this blog can also double up as the web portal for "content management", right? Thanks for the suggestion, dear... as soon as I locate the lovely ladies from Kolkata, I'll let you know: they will be more than happy to oblige.
Thank you, dear google, yahoo and ask.com users --- you provide so much fodder for the blog cud!
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Wild wild west
Ladies and gentlemen, here are the pics from the hiking and trekking trips of last weekend to the Sequoia National Park, as promised. I'd let the pictures speak for themselves.
Our initial journey started off with our the car speeding through yellow grassy fields like these:
Soon enough, we were in the mountains, when the roads changed completely into winding and steep turns such as these, 
while some melted into the wilderness, like these. 
Oh, did I forget to tell you
about the breathtaking views we saw? 
During our trip, we saw the largest tree on the planet.
Don't miss the man standing at the foot of the tree in the pic above. And then we also walked and trekked through snow 
while we climbed from 7500 ft to 11,000 ft over sea level. Yeah, we climbed all the way to the top of one of these 
.
We watched deer from this close
, saw waterfalls like this 
and spent a lot of time sightseeing. Oh, what captured my imagination were a few private cabins 
built along the mountains --- imagine being able to retreat into this wilderness whenever you wished. Some day, perhaps...
Our initial journey started off with our the car speeding through yellow grassy fields like these:
Soon enough, we were in the mountains, when the roads changed completely into winding and steep turns such as these, 
while some melted into the wilderness, like these. 
Oh, did I forget to tell you
about the breathtaking views we saw? 
During our trip, we saw the largest tree on the planet.
Don't miss the man standing at the foot of the tree in the pic above. And then we also walked and trekked through snow 
while we climbed from 7500 ft to 11,000 ft over sea level. Yeah, we climbed all the way to the top of one of these 
.We watched deer from this close
, saw waterfalls like this 
and spent a lot of time sightseeing. Oh, what captured my imagination were a few private cabins 
built along the mountains --- imagine being able to retreat into this wilderness whenever you wished. Some day, perhaps...
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Go scare yourself
For those of you who haven't "heard" about it, go and visit this page on wikipedia, on holophony. Once you've finished reading the short paragraph describing it, go and visit the last link, the virtual barbershop. The file is 6.2 MB (yeah, quite big by dial-up standards), but believe me it will be worth every single second you spend downloading it.
Go and hear it... yes, now! Don't forget your headphones!!
Imagine when that technology enters games. Imagine playing CounterStrike or Doom with that technology, when you can literally hear the beast breathe a few inches away. Imagine, newer amusement parks and horror mansions built with sound emitters of this sort. Imagine being able to record the sound your near and dear ones for a full hour on this, and then listening later. Imagine playing Nascar or NFS with this. Be aware, be afraid and be wonderstruck. Welcome to technology!
Go and hear it... yes, now! Don't forget your headphones!!
Imagine when that technology enters games. Imagine playing CounterStrike or Doom with that technology, when you can literally hear the beast breathe a few inches away. Imagine, newer amusement parks and horror mansions built with sound emitters of this sort. Imagine being able to record the sound your near and dear ones for a full hour on this, and then listening later. Imagine playing Nascar or NFS with this. Be aware, be afraid and be wonderstruck. Welcome to technology!
Monday, June 04, 2007
Campfire chronicles
We went trekking and hiking to the Yosemite park and the Sequoia national parks over the last two weekends. I will be putting up a post or two with the photos and description of the magic soon --- right now I'm just trying to organize the photos and all. For now, let me describe to you an evening by the campfire at the Sequoia national park which we spent this weekend.
The trek that day had been about 5 mile long each way. Steep and narrow roads
like these had exhausted some of us, and it was getting darker every minute. The temperature was predicted to drop to -6 degrees Centigrade, and so the fire was necessary very soon.
I took up the charge. Yes, I specialize in starting fires, and besides like being in control of situations. :) Soon, firewood was gathered, savagely cut into pieces, charcoals were lit and we had a fire blooming. And with the creeping cold, sprouting fire, warmth of buddies... beers weren't too far behind. Out came a box full of 8% alcohol Steel Reserve, and the mood for the drink just set in. So while I was busy tending to the fire to get it to eat the largest block of wood, almost everybody busied themselves with their own cans.
Soon enough, someone was drunk. While everyone else was lazing around the fire trying to keep warm, up he sprung and proclaimed, "Hey, I got a poem... I got one!!". We were game for a poem, of course... and this is what came out:
We had a good laugh at this the first time. "Oh man, he's drunk" was the general comment. He kind of got into a hazy phase then and settled in a corner. But the mood was just building up. Someone started singing songs, and then we decided to dance. And what better dance around a fire than "jhingalala ho.. hurrr hurrr!!". We were 8 guys going round and round the fire with beer cans in our hands, everyone singing at completely different tunes, "Hum bewafa... jhingalala ho... hargis na the...", no care of the world at all. The poet was also in the circle, but he was kind-of quiet. There was a lull in the singing, kind-of when you are deciding which song to sing next, when suddenly the poet came alive. Drooping eyes were suddenly shining bright, and he spoke, "Hey I got one, I got one...". We looked up expectantly at him, when he began again,
Very soon, the best topic of drunken conversations got in
--- love lives or the lack thereof. Someone was a bit coy, someone got sentimental and sat alone, and suddenly I found myself to be the target. Now, one golden rule I've learnt is, you must always play along. I began, "Yeah so there was this hot chick I met who came to me in a bikini asking for help, and things took off from there". Drunk guy wasn't convinced, though. While he was protesting, someone took my side: "Why can't that happen, dude? I totttallly believe him". The debate was almost settled, when drunk dude suddenly remembered a song. Yeah you guessed it right --- "Dumaru dumaru dum!!".
After dinner and all, everyone gradually settled into the tents. But the parting comment from one guy took the cake. He said, "You know, since we all held hands and walked around the fire, we're all married to each other now". I don't need to explain why he was made to sleep in the car at night. :D
The trek that day had been about 5 mile long each way. Steep and narrow roads
like these had exhausted some of us, and it was getting darker every minute. The temperature was predicted to drop to -6 degrees Centigrade, and so the fire was necessary very soon.I took up the charge. Yes, I specialize in starting fires, and besides like being in control of situations. :) Soon, firewood was gathered, savagely cut into pieces, charcoals were lit and we had a fire blooming. And with the creeping cold, sprouting fire, warmth of buddies... beers weren't too far behind. Out came a box full of 8% alcohol Steel Reserve, and the mood for the drink just set in. So while I was busy tending to the fire to get it to eat the largest block of wood, almost everybody busied themselves with their own cans.
Soon enough, someone was drunk. While everyone else was lazing around the fire trying to keep warm, up he sprung and proclaimed, "Hey, I got a poem... I got one!!". We were game for a poem, of course... and this is what came out:
"Dumaru dumaru dum
The king has come
Lets take a gum
Plug it up his bum
Dumaru dumaru dum"
The king has come
Lets take a gum
Plug it up his bum
Dumaru dumaru dum"
We had a good laugh at this the first time. "Oh man, he's drunk" was the general comment. He kind of got into a hazy phase then and settled in a corner. But the mood was just building up. Someone started singing songs, and then we decided to dance. And what better dance around a fire than "jhingalala ho.. hurrr hurrr!!". We were 8 guys going round and round the fire with beer cans in our hands, everyone singing at completely different tunes, "Hum bewafa... jhingalala ho... hargis na the...", no care of the world at all. The poet was also in the circle, but he was kind-of quiet. There was a lull in the singing, kind-of when you are deciding which song to sing next, when suddenly the poet came alive. Drooping eyes were suddenly shining bright, and he spoke, "Hey I got one, I got one...". We looked up expectantly at him, when he began again,
"Dumaru dumaru dum
The king has come...".
All we could do was laugh then. It took a little convincing on our part to calm him down and tell him that he was repeating stuff.The king has come...".
Very soon, the best topic of drunken conversations got in
--- love lives or the lack thereof. Someone was a bit coy, someone got sentimental and sat alone, and suddenly I found myself to be the target. Now, one golden rule I've learnt is, you must always play along. I began, "Yeah so there was this hot chick I met who came to me in a bikini asking for help, and things took off from there". Drunk guy wasn't convinced, though. While he was protesting, someone took my side: "Why can't that happen, dude? I totttallly believe him". The debate was almost settled, when drunk dude suddenly remembered a song. Yeah you guessed it right --- "Dumaru dumaru dum!!".After dinner and all, everyone gradually settled into the tents. But the parting comment from one guy took the cake. He said, "You know, since we all held hands and walked around the fire, we're all married to each other now". I don't need to explain why he was made to sleep in the car at night. :D
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