When the big scientist were busy smashing miniature rocks in large tubes, I overheard a very fat lady say this to another fat lady in the bus, "Oh so what they are finding God particle and all, its just boys will be boys. Break rocks, smash things.... my husband does not even help me clean the house..."
The relevance to this conversation can only be found if you posses the stupidity particle in yourself. Basically, it is the subatomic level at which every human conversation boils down. Finally it doesn't matter how old you are, how awesome you are or how gay you are... it all boils down to this, gender neutral, age neutral, sex neutral.... stupidity is for everyone.
There are some things in life that never change, like the jokes made by dentist, the argument given for any point by a woman and the amount of change in a bus conductors little bag. But then there are some thing's in life that change more rapidly than the speed at which rabbits make babies. Change hit me big time, in one week my entire definition of life had change. My sense of self had changed, in one week, I had changed the coast of India from west to south. I got my dreamjob and was married to my dreamgirl. Just like that everything changed.
Life was spinning out of control and there was no axis to hold on too, when there was no hope left for normality.... suddenly out of the blue like a shimmering God particle in between smashed neutrons, there I found the one thing that had followed me across the horizontal width of this great corrupt country... was the average stupidity of the human being.
"Saar," (yes that is correct english, thankfully, Shakespeare is dead long back), <insert some weird language into this sentence> said the busconductor.
First I stared at him, then I though he was cursing me in Tamil, then I realized I was in Karnataka, so it was probably Kannada, so I replied, "I do not know Kannada, speak in Hindi..."
Now the funny part of word 'Hindi' is, it is common across all languages, so you do not really need to explain yourself but when that man spoke some more gibberish in Hindi, I was a bit confused. So I again spoke the same sentence with English instead of Hindi. Again some gibberish.
Finally I gave up, paid my fare (which was regular) and walked to sit on the seat closer to the door. The conductor looked pleased with himself and spoke in the same language with another person and walked away. The man turned to me and said in broken english, "You should have told him you don't know Kannada..." he said. I simply looked outside the glass window and was wondering if I could smash through that toughened glass.
Now when you are travelling south (and I mean south India) language is a big barrier. Most of them refuse to learn Hindi, have little respect for any other language other than their own. They think they speak English but then, everytime someone speaks with me in English, for no particular reason, God Save the queen hymms into my mind.
Now, I know I am not a distant cousin of Shakespeare nor does anyone in my entire family tree, right from the beginning of time, has ever had any stake in webster dictionary. But I find it hard to believe that across galaxy, any version of English that uses the word righta or lefta is acceptable. No it is not understandable if you add a 'aa' to anything and it turns English.
But as they say in rome do the romans and in south India don't fret if you are invited to a late night rawa party of Idli, Masala dosa, Rawa Dosa. Although here, you will find that you get dosa in Hotels, in Pan shops, in the middle of the street, on the airport for breakfast, lunch, dinner, mid-night snacks and on and on.
So annoyed was I for the outburst of Dosa in this city that frustrated I walked into a roadside hawker, but to my dismay he proudly said, he makes 99 different types of Dosa.
So that brings me to the end of this little rawa rant, and bottom line, yes I went south. In a city that is one of the most accurate city marked on the globe. There are many many adventures to come and this is just the beginning.
For you never know what you get when you smash two things together. Some may find a expensive bill to be paid, others may find a God particle but the one who actually asks, why was there a need to smash open the thing, we may never have a satisfactory answer.
There are some things in life that never change, like the jokes made by dentist, the argument given for any point by a woman and the amount of change in a bus conductors little bag. But then there are some thing's in life that change more rapidly than the speed at which rabbits make babies. Change hit me big time, in one week my entire definition of life had change. My sense of self had changed, in one week, I had changed the coast of India from west to south. I got my dreamjob and was married to my dreamgirl. Just like that everything changed.
Life was spinning out of control and there was no axis to hold on too, when there was no hope left for normality.... suddenly out of the blue like a shimmering God particle in between smashed neutrons, there I found the one thing that had followed me across the horizontal width of this great corrupt country... was the average stupidity of the human being.
"Saar," (yes that is correct english, thankfully, Shakespeare is dead long back), <insert some weird language into this sentence> said the busconductor.
First I stared at him, then I though he was cursing me in Tamil, then I realized I was in Karnataka, so it was probably Kannada, so I replied, "I do not know Kannada, speak in Hindi..."
Now the funny part of word 'Hindi' is, it is common across all languages, so you do not really need to explain yourself but when that man spoke some more gibberish in Hindi, I was a bit confused. So I again spoke the same sentence with English instead of Hindi. Again some gibberish.
Finally I gave up, paid my fare (which was regular) and walked to sit on the seat closer to the door. The conductor looked pleased with himself and spoke in the same language with another person and walked away. The man turned to me and said in broken english, "You should have told him you don't know Kannada..." he said. I simply looked outside the glass window and was wondering if I could smash through that toughened glass.
Now when you are travelling south (and I mean south India) language is a big barrier. Most of them refuse to learn Hindi, have little respect for any other language other than their own. They think they speak English but then, everytime someone speaks with me in English, for no particular reason, God Save the queen hymms into my mind.
Now, I know I am not a distant cousin of Shakespeare nor does anyone in my entire family tree, right from the beginning of time, has ever had any stake in webster dictionary. But I find it hard to believe that across galaxy, any version of English that uses the word righta or lefta is acceptable. No it is not understandable if you add a 'aa' to anything and it turns English.
But as they say in rome do the romans and in south India don't fret if you are invited to a late night rawa party of Idli, Masala dosa, Rawa Dosa. Although here, you will find that you get dosa in Hotels, in Pan shops, in the middle of the street, on the airport for breakfast, lunch, dinner, mid-night snacks and on and on.
So annoyed was I for the outburst of Dosa in this city that frustrated I walked into a roadside hawker, but to my dismay he proudly said, he makes 99 different types of Dosa.
So that brings me to the end of this little rawa rant, and bottom line, yes I went south. In a city that is one of the most accurate city marked on the globe. There are many many adventures to come and this is just the beginning.
For you never know what you get when you smash two things together. Some may find a expensive bill to be paid, others may find a God particle but the one who actually asks, why was there a need to smash open the thing, we may never have a satisfactory answer.
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I don't need weapon, I have a sharp tongue.