“No sex please, We are Indians!”

Caught you there, didn’t I? HA!

This was a GD topic in one of the many GDs I had subjected myself to, while scouting for a suitable college to do my MBA in. Now the topic could be approached in two ways, one harping on the great Indian culture (Yes, yes we know all about it) and the other talking about how taboo such a topic still is. Enough people have spoken about the first approach. I like the second *evil grin*.

Rewind: Class Eight, Zoology class. The teacher is desperately trying to make a class of 40 girls make sense of the Human Reproductive system.

“So you understand right?”

Uh-huh? Understand what? 

Ovaries. Follicles. Eggs. Lots of tubules with different names. Sperms.

Between suppressed giggles and sneak-peeks at fellow classmates, lots of nagging doubts remain unanswered.

Then one brave heart speaks up. “But ma’am, How.....?”

“Shoo. What child? Whatever you need to know, you’ll know when you have to.”

Lesson: Ask no questions. We will no more treat you like kids who are trying to bite off more than what they can chew.

All right..the teacher (Mum Number 2) won’t tell us. (Mum Number 2, because they are the ones who take care of us for all the time we are not under Mum Number 1’s nose).  Let’s ask Mum number 1.

So I make this list of all the questions I have, to ask her.

1.      Who is a lesbian?

2.      Why did Shiva anna laugh when I asked for a rubber?

3.      Chintu says if I get married and go to the temple and pray I’ll get a baby. Is it that simple?

4.      What is a ‘blue’ film?

5.      What does ‘fuck’ mean? Why did daddy slap thambi for using it?

6.      Why did you shoo me away from that Kamasutra book in Landmark?

7.      How.....?

My mum’s answers to those were:

1.      You are asking too many questions..

2.      That Shiva..I should talk to his mother.

3.      You stay away from that girl. What sort of things you girls discus at this age!

4.      You have bad friends who put bad things into your head.

5.      Promise me NOW you won’t say that word again!!

6.      Next time, you WILL hold my hand and never let go of it when we go book shopping.

7.      Go to bed..NOW.

But the forbidden fruit is always desired the most, isn’t it?

You won’t tell us? We will find out!

And somehow, (I still don’t remember how) we figured out answers to most of those ‘doubts’ of ours. I remember three of us pouring over an Oxford dictionary one rainy day, though. And the Mills and Boon series helped. Oh, and so did Mr Sheldon. That guy is God. Sort of.

But why why why is such a big deal made out of this??!!

I mean, we are going to find out at some point..why not you tell us, and we get the facts right; rather than doing it the tougher, more dangerous way? If you DO tell us, then it will be just another normal thing, instead of something that is hyped up to such an extent!

I don’t know..Maybe they find it kind of embarrassing.

Imagine your kid and yourself:

“So, son, today I’ll tell you how babies are made.”

Ugh . Very weird. But I guess we ought to get used to it. Well, I don’t know! May be it’s all part of ‘growing up’ as the wise say!

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

This is a kind-a mushy post (its been a while :P )
Recent past was not what I would call, a fairy tale. New Year's was lousy. I was home answering calls. Then in quick succession the mum and the bro fell sick, succumbing to Ross River Virus (It has traveled all the way from Australia, I read, and it is a HORSE disease!) Then I failed to get through two dream companies in the campus recruitment. I had this big plan of moving abroad, which crashed down. And more recently, a very very strained relationship with another special friend is adding to the woes.Well, you get the general idea, don't you? Barely twenty days into 2010, and me no liking it at ALL.
But things seem much more bearable and nicer now because of these wonderful people around me, whom we carelessly categorize as 'friends'. It's way too simple a term!

 This post is for all these friends of mine :)

For Hari, who knows things are not okay from the way I 'hello' him on gtalk,  who puts away aptitude test prep and job applications to make international calls to make sure I smile :)

For Roo, who underplayed her I-got-a-job elation, for my benefit and cribbed with me. (yeah we crib and crib and suddenly we feel better)

For Badri, who threw his ego to the winds, and was there when I really needed a shoulder :) (and fuel for the bike) :D

For Ram, who has, as always been the rock :)

For Ragavan, who knew what had to be done to get me all cheery again -Domino's and BR and some snow too! :) (heard of the term 'binge'? In moderation, it actually helps)

For Sandy, my partner in all things good and bad, plotting and scheming, laughs and tears :)

For Ravi anna, who sacrificed a lot of sleep to put some sense into me :)

For Jen, for all the ego-boosts :)

For Arjun, who is currently warring with me. I'm going to miss you, idiot.

And for Chris, for helping me find 'answers'.

Things are actually looking up now!! Landed into what I would call my 'dream project' with Parry ;) Having a lot more time to catch up on my 'reading' ;) . I want to write a book next (heh heh). A few new clothes can do wonders to your morale :D. I guess the first stage had to be traversed to reach this, and I never could have, without you people..You guys rock!
*hugs*
:)

One bike, two cops and a three minute drama.

I drive a Scooty Pep Plus, and it’s like one of my best friends. I love my bike and I don’t know what I would do without it! Yesterday’s paper spoke about global surveys that proved that a woman would rather lose her boyfriend, than lose her mobile phone. I attach about as much importance to my bike. (But of course, priorities would change if the boy friend can buy me a bike himself.) Well, women ARE materialistic. You just need to accept that.
Now I shouldn’t be saying this, but I (like many, many people out there) don’t have my license in hand. I keep filing for an LLR (I’ve done it thrice, already) and wake up only when the validity is over, and then I need to file it again. And I am NOT proud of it. Last week, the insurance papers were overdue too. Vulnerable prey for the cops-hawks.
So my bro and I are on the bike, bro driving (“NO WAY I’m sitting behind when a GIRL is driving!!”) and he happens to be my flesh and blood, so he doesn’t have a license either. Now there are certain things you learn when you drive without a license:
1.Never look scared. If a cop is looking at you, you defiantly look back at him. Then he’ll think you are clean.
2.Signals are dangerous preying grounds. Regulate driving speed and make sure you zoom away when the lights turn green.
3.Always wear the helmet. It’s one reason less for them to swoop down on you.
4.Never break the law.
5.If caught, never act smart. Act sorry; plead (Self respect or bars?) If you are a girl, cry. Or turn on your charm. Whichever you are good at.
6.If you are ever caught, discreetly empty the cash off your wallet and stash it away. Just keep as much as you are willing to donate to the cops in the wallet. Make sure you stash the credit cards away as well. Once, long time back, this cop saw the cards peeking out from my almost empty wallet and drove with me to the nearest ATM and got his due.
7.If you know some big-shot in the hierarchy, you don’t need to worry yourself with the six points stated above. Just make sure that person’s mobile number is always stored in your phone.
I have given this gyan to my bro many times, but one look at the cop’s face, he simply forgets it all. So we are caught in the signal, and bro breaks cardinal rule #1. He gets all sweaty and is like “Iyo..he is looking at us da..I think we are done”. Sure enough, the cop scans all the faces and picks the one that looks most guilty.
“License irruka?”
Blank stare. Metamorphoses into scared stare.
“Va va, oram kattu vandiye.”
Then the cop turns the ignition off and takes the key with him.
Now bro regains his senses, and he is opens the wallet, and takes extra cash out and puts it inside his pant. (snigger*) My wallet now had a fifty, his had a hundred. We pull the bike toward the cops. An equally hassled crowd stands there. Either they are making frantic phone calls or bargaining.
Cop turns to us.
“Enne pa, license illeya? 500 rupees fine. Enne, fine kattreya?”
I think when caught, we should cough up the cash, atleast for the savage satisfaction that none of it would go into the cop’s pocket. But almost always, we never have THAT much dough to spare. And think of all the things that you can do with five hundred bucks.
“Ille sir..avlo money ille sir..sorry sir..” We are taking the road most often travelled.
“Evlo money irukku?”
Then I go enter conversation, “Sir, neengale paarunga sir, only fifty” Thrust the purse into his hands.
“No no, fifty pathadu..two hundred rupees.final.” It was like bargaining on Pondy Bazaar.
Then a senior cop enters the scene. (With a bigger moustache. And an even bigger paunch. I think an increase in these parameters is directly proportional to raise in ranks)
“What is the problem?” He smiles at both of us. We smile back. (The charm, remember?)
I say, “Sir, sorry sir, Fifty than irukku...”
The two cops have a hush hush conversation. Then the senior one looks at us again. Nods. “One hundred and fifty.”
I still have faith that we can get away with fifty, when my bro hands over his hundred.
“Indanga sir.” Idiot.
Then some more hush hush. Then the senior cop says (this is the best part),
“Seri seri, one hundred koduthutu ponga. Inde ponnu naale unne vidren. All educated people. Looking like college students. Get license soon”
(I shall translate : Because this girl is with you, I ll leave you this one time) Haahaahahah :D
My bro gives me one long glance. Sardonic contempt mingled with gratefulness. Signs the receipt. And we are off.
My bro tells me then, “Thank God you were with me. Or they would have put their hands inside my pockets and all and checked for money.”
Jeez!
And we look at the receipt: Crime-Obstruction. Fine:Rs Fifty. So the other fifty is for his generosity.
I mean, we ARE wrong. Maybe if all the motorists out there had their licenses in hand, these guys wouldn’t be able to make a business out of this at all, would they?
So now my mum has put a ban on the bike. We are allowed to use it only after we both get our LLRs. Blah.