Thursday, March 05, 2009

Indhi Theryiadhu Baba


From the day my mother decided that its essential to learn hindi to survive in this country, I took a vow to
1. Hate Hindi, that intruded into my play time (Thanks to Sriram for introducing the word "Indhi" to me, which aptly defines what we Tams feel for that language)
2. Never work in the lands of amits and aroras
Well, I grew up to realize that the language is different and the people are different and since then have given up on vow 1.

Vow 2 still seems relevant. Though I dont work in Amit Pradesh, an ample dose of Hindi movies (thanks to my imported wife from wheat land make me believe that Amit Pradesh is indeed unliveable for Ashwin "proudly surnamed" ramasamy.


For one I cannot imagine sharing my space in an apartment with "Indhi Appa" like this.


In a country where wearing anything more than a thin piece of aerated lingerie feels suffocatingly humid, wearing multi-layered silk jippa would mean that "Indhi Appa" is a perpetual sweat machine!
Amit Pradesh also hasnt graduated to more human 2.0 chewing habits like Orbit, happy dent, Center Fresh and still prefer this .
Also in question is the sheer affordability of a south indian to buy attrociously expensive and insanely outdated suites that are norm in any social gathering in A.Pradesh ( A social gathering is where clean shaven and red dyed men stand in a circle, while couples wearing locally stitched suites and embroided sarees dance with the desi ballroom moves, in the center of a massive dance hall with two curved unnecessarily oranated staircases with lion faced side rails)
What beats the theory of probability, is how the ghutka chewing amit123 never spills even a nano-litre of the ghutka-saliva concoction on his multi-layered silk suite. Amazing indeed, but not for me ever!
If I can still survive such a social gathering, I will die by the torture of "laximkant-Pyarelal" type "tududuuun taaak tududuuun taak" melodies where the heroines and heros kasamusamatically drool over each other, till the director fears an "A" certificate and cuts the song in favor of a sentimental sob scene. In some cases, the movie does get an "A", if th heroine says
"Mai tumharay bachhe ki maa ban-nay waali hoon! " after the song.
So coming back, its this kind of music and its modern version (read: jab we met) that I loathe and cannot not take migrane head ache, in favor of such musical evenings.
While I can keep going on and on to write an anthology of anti-amit pradesh poems, let me stop with one last grip.
Why the heck they call everyone "baba"?
The other day a Ms. eighteen something amita in NDTV is standing next to a man who mysteriously doesnt get electrocuted when touching a live wire..She goes "Aayiye (chee), hum milte hien "Electric Baba" sae"
Aree Baba...Enaala mudiyala baba!

2 of my fans were here!:

Anonymous said...

having a north indian wife serves you right!

sri on 8:22 PM said...

hahahaha

 

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