www: wine, wifi and wagina

There is a distinct advantage of using the letter W here. It will not hit the filter for malicious and harmful content and will be definite read because of the atrocious title and will help me poison the mind of the unsuspecting population. I should probably say something about Republic day here (wrote on 26th) but beyond the parade which became boring two years after TV was launched in India, all it reminds me of is re-do-public which is what they do to public every year and it is time public does unto them. I am un-cultured, period. I have it on good authority that I neither understand nor respect culture. That tune, ah, that tune puts me off to sleep at 9 am in the morning. Reminds me of fervently gesticulating aunts with no voice and me trying to turn the volume up only to hear the wailing tone louder.

Whatsapp reminded early morning that it was a dry day, so all my wine loving friends were sober for a change and probably bathed and freshened up, sitting with their wives of 25 years odd, sipping a cup of Tulsi tea and thinking, WTF, I get to watch a parade today and not my painstakingly assembled hard disk worth Gigabytes (quite unpatriotic, so to say). So everyone decided to become nauseously  patriotic and send tricolor messages, gifs and videos, and my mind went back to the tricolor on the slipper that created a big hullaballoo for Amazon. We were discussing about it yesterday and as I defended the concept, wondering aloud as why should it matter, my argument was unilaterally branded as “कुतर्क”. So tri color messages are ok, clothes are fine, but not tricolor chappals, because “हमारी भी भावनाये हैं ”. We are a nation that can riot if a guy doesn’t stand up during National Anthem recitation in a movie theatre, but we can coolly stand and snigger (probably record too) while a girl is being molested by a group in public. So up yours for भावनाये, BTW, Did anyone happen to notice the flag of “Republic day अमर रहे”. Somebody get your facts right, man!

Continuing on the charade of patriotism, I want to implore all of ye, to actively take part in स्वच्छ Bharat. Which is an oxymoron, as clarified by a standup guy, and I agree, we Indians are not clean by culture, our cleanliness is making the maid clean our home and dump the dirt in neighbor’s yard. See we have traditionally never believed in love thy neighbor (loving thy neighbor’s wife, or daughter, now that is a different story). I have had a hard time explaining my BMW (Bartan maanjne wali) to keep dry and wet कचरा separate, and when finally I got through their blocked minds, I realised that the colony cleaner anyway mixes it all up, so, there went my futile attempt down the dustbin literally. But if the littering of the country wasn’t enough, we have also learnt to litter in mailboxes and WA accounts simply by posting messages of utter stupidity, which they could broom away if they could but they can’t so they won’t. They simply dump to another group. Sometimes it feels that they do it deliberately, I saw this shit, let me shove it down your throat too. But what I really felt bad is about people like Fawad being unceremoniously thrown back to the neighbor country. He is cute. Even Karan liked him. Why treat him like dirt? I can think of several other folks we could be much better off without, and could be hurled across the border, but why Fawad!

Our nation is doing so much for females in terms of making men aware of how to behave with them, running scripted short films and advertisements around लड़की बचाओ, लड़की पढ़ाओ   (my autocorrect is working overtime, it was actually writing लड़की भगाओ and my google search on लड़की showed me “पटाने का तरीका ”). I personally think the whole concept works out in men’s favor, Save the girl child, she is the one who will become a woman later. Get it, you dirty mind! But at times these shows are so utterly unreal and I am nostalgic for Nirupa Rai and I distinctly feel the only way to solve this problem is, every woman should aim at looking like Nirupa Rai. (No offence) but men will have a real problem feeling anything but brotherly  or son-ly towards this species. For us in the 40’s (It is better to say forties that specify the exact year, except that I keep my email id as jhilmil_1970), looking motherly and elder sisterly is default, but for the beauties in their 20’s, it may be a good idea to take a crash course in how-to-look-like-an-aunt-and-save-yourself.

It is very difficult to find anything to say these days, every word is twisted and misrepresented. And it is getting tougher day by day to understand the difference between truth and falsehood, or rather alternate truth, as coined by a yellow haired person of current importance. All that is written on Internet is not the whole truth, so help me God. Can someone make an app, or create a marker that tells me whether a statement supposedly attributed to Meryl Streep was actually penned by her, or Obama’s hand on Melanie’s derriere was photo-shopped. Or why the recipe that looks so endearing in your food lab looks unfabulously different when tried at home. And other conspiracy theories around how-raga-is smarter-than-donkey or who-killed-ajay-lolita. But मेरे अच्छे दिन आएंगे ! I like the word अच्छा. Spoken in different tones, it can take on a whole new meaning or de-meaning. It is not a word, it is a sentence. So, repeating myself मेरे अच्छे दिन आएंगे.

How can my patriotism bladder be empty without discussing de-money-tisation. It is an unprece-dent-ed move that put a dent in everyone’s wallet and asked to move to e-wallet. The management philosophy behind this is the ardent belief that we are all morons. You spend Rs 30 once (I am staunch middle class and the last wallet I bought cost me all of Rs 30), when you buy a wallet and then you can put money and take out money and none would be wiser. You use a digital wallet and you are paying (every time to those who are wiser) to spend your money as well. Of course, goes without saying when you are de-monied, digital is the way to go. Better than begging any day. I asked an autowallah as to why he doesn’t use paytm, he said, madam, उसके लिए नेट पैक लेना पड़ेगा .  Valid point. I personally think this whole आंदोलन was a move to teach Indians the culture of standing in queue. Till now, having been only focused on art of living, now we know the art of queuing.

P.S. Please note that the blog title had nothing to do with the blog content, a fact that you must have realised by now, unless you belong to the #StupidIndia club but it sure enticed you to read all the way till the end, hoping to find a glimpse of the wagina. Maybe I should have called it The year that was, or My unpatriotism, but decided not to. Now that is pretty successful marketing.

Whatsit?

Once upon a time there used to be a drawing room. And you could have friends and relatives over, sometimes uninvited, who you did not want to spend time with, but as a matter of familial courtesy, you had no choice. You had to smile at their pjs, you had to listen to their gibberish and suitably respond and sometimes say a few nonsensical things as well. The only good thing was, after some time there was a surety that the pain would be over, the people would leave for their respective homes, and you could apply the Jhandu balm and relax.

And then came whatsapp. And all serenity and peace in life was suddenly over. You not only had people you don’t know in your whatsapp room, they could talk to you whenever they wanted, whatever they wanted and you had no choice in the matter. The only advantage was, they could not see your reaction and hear your blasphemy. And you could throw away your mobile, and no one would be wiser.

Once upon a time, when emails first came into being, we were warned about chain mails and waste and viruses that would come and occupy our inbox and which we should never open as it may corrupt the computer, never to forward and more technical stuff like that.

And then came whatsapp. And you started getting all the same junk email, photos, videos which have eternal lives and keep on circulating for ever and ever and create the kind of waste you have always been warned about. And it came right to your drawing room and you felt smothered. And then you took a deep breath and thought about exiting the group. And dream about how peaceful life would have been without technology.

What do you have when 100 odd people who barely know each other but have the common factor of having graduated from the same Alma mater, come together after 25 years. In the drawing room days, you would have but met but once on the 25th anniversary, exchanged addresses and phone numbers and then forgotten each other’s existence for another 25 years or till you had Alzheimer’s, whichever was later. But now, life no longer being the same, with technology being around, everyone comes together forever on a whatsapp group and exchange meaningless posts that no one reads and follows. Trust me, if the people who share all the “things you should do for world and inner peace and your health and religion” followed 1/10th of their own advise, the world would be an infinitely better place.

Let me bust the myth about whatsapp, that it is the biggest thing since somebody said, let there be Internet. After racking my brain hard enough, I could come up with three primary uses of the app. And you can decide the usefulness based on your own priorities. First to talk to you son away in another country without spending a farthing ( sorry, still in UK mode). Second when you are shopping and cannot figure out whether to buy dress 1 or 2 or 3 or all of them, sending the images to your spouse to hear the confirmation “buy all of them”, and hence not feeling guilty. And lastly, sending new year and Diwali greetings free of cost to the entire phone book. Diwali greetings remind me, I am rather offended by those who keep on sending greetings for all the obscure occasions that happen almost every day in India, and don’t identify themselves. Just a ” best wishes on Hanuman Jayanti for you and your family” and message is over. Now the number isn’t stored in your phonebook, and the image is that of a kid/ celebrity whom you can’t place. So the dilemma of the century, do you know this person, doesn’t he/ she know you have absolutely no interest in any jayantibhai, should you ask the person his name? After lot of internal struggle you decide to ask in a small voice, do I know you? And quickly the response comes, Guess who! I give up. It is easier to just say, same to you and leave it at that.

Now we have the power to read all the jokes, first in text format, then with loads of smileys around it, then attributed to Santa-Banta, then to Jack and Jill, then husband and wife, then Tom and Jerry, and then the images start, same joke presented visually,… I am frustrated, I see these jokes in my sleep, and wake up, all drenched in sweat and trembling, (yeah it is hot too). And in every forum, the same joke gets forwarded, your college group, school friends, office, Facebook, and all jokes/fun/ whatever forums you subscribe to. Whatever happened to my privacy, when someone adds me to a group, why doesn’t the fellow ask me if I am interested and a timeout taken as a no (saves me from the internal struggle between the ardent desire to say no and the social stigma attached to it).  No, by default you get added, and then if you want to opt out, you have the next social dilemma of what will people think? Can I leave without a message pop up. Will people think I am too stuck up and unfriendly. Oh forget it, let me be there, mute it and not read anything ever.

And then it had to add videos, so now all YouTube videos are shared, all karaoke self sung songs that should have been trashed in the first place are shared. If I want to see or listen to YouTube, or Ted, I know how to type http://www.youtube.com, or whatever, you don’t have to force me. And what do you do with the 500 odd messages that you get daily? My mobile battery goes for a six, all the space in my mobile isn’t enough to store everything. Just imagine if all this was on paper, how much of mind boggling waste would we be generating. The digital world is overloaded with virtual trash. There goes my swachh mobile.

It is also a psychological torture. Other than my neck-ache, which I have been getting since I was subscribed into a few groups, sometimes, in order to be deemed an active member, you bring yourself to write something and post it. And then if there is no response for the next 10 minutes, there is this mental cycle of oh God, did I send something wrong, has it been shared before, should I remove it, why isn’t anyone responding, was it in bad taste, how can all of the 100 people be busy simultaneously, shall I exit from the grip. Uff. And my Jhandu balm is back. And the worst thing is people know whether you have read something or not, it is no longer big brother watching, everyone is watching. So it becomes a must to at least put a smiley or thumbs up after every post, especially after your mobile keyboard has given up on you. ( by the way I am still confused, in my days, showing the thumb or tongue used to be considered a taunt, cheeky, ever since the cold drink and smiley world came into existence, it seems to have become a positive reinforcement, when did the world change?).