Saturday, August 7, 2010

Showroom Dummies

Ferraris are red, Lamborghinis are orange, sex is worth the wait, and jeans are blue. It cannot be another way.

Jeans can be black, as proven by a pair I bought a while ago, but they’re a bit dive bar-ish, and hence, an obvious misfit on my large-ish legs. But essentially, jeans are blue.

With time, however, I have come to terms with the omnipresent difference in ‘taste’. So while I frown at Justin Bible, or so I suppose his name is, I know a dozen odd girls who are willing to give him all their money and beauty products.

Continuing, all birds are ridiculous, gold is hateful, and astrology is the science of telling lies. It is ridiculous, to ‘know, plan and be prepared’ for strange consequences in the offing, by chalking out arrows on an unfathomable galactic route map.

Yet, I have noted that prediction, by the way of astrology or not, is a natural instinct. It was pointed out to me a few days ago, that my natural instincts have failed me consistently, and that I am an assumptive, opinionated asshole. I’d said Germany would march home with the FIFA ’10 World Cup, but they lost out in a match which was the equivalent of brown bread. Dull, and utterly tasteless.

Mercedes GP is but a speck in the F1 circus. Chitrangada Singh is far from appearing naked on a Filmfare cover. Jitesh Pilaai is still alive, and both, the Nano and the Beat are selling in good numbers. Mobile network service providers are not yet bleeding jail-birds, and the use of laptops (and the internet) across the country, is still legal.

But here, the issue is more about common sense, than it is about ethics, or preferences. We live in an ethically dumbfounded country. We say ‘x’ is ethical, and ‘y’ is not. And then sustain a market where x, y, and even z are sold freely. Ethics, by nature, are solely dependent on the ethical framework used to determine it. Common sense, by that standard, is far less complicated.

Walk into a medical store, and you wouldn’t walk out with a bottle of cough syrup unless you produced a prescription, or held the store on gunpoint. But buying alcohol is far simpler. You simply hand over the money to the store-keeper, and return home to drown in your joy or sorrow, whichever applicable.

I’m not rising to the defence of the 490 students recently detained in a party in Pune. No, I couldn’t care less about them. They were at fault, even if of a lesser magnitude than they were projected to be, and they’re a waste of my afternoon.

But the dubiousness with which the entire issue was handled gets to me. A 21 year old can vote, marry and reproduce. But a pint of beer makes him/her a criminal. That’s like saying you can have a Ferrari, but you can’t run it on all eight cylinders. If you do so, you are irresponsible, and deserve to have your face peeled off with a bulldozer.

A vote is the individual’s aspiration to freedom and independence, no strings attached. But if the same vote then counters his aspirations, and lands him in detention, that’s flawed, alright.

We call ourselves ‘The Largest Democracy in the World’, and we’re about to commence our 64th year of independence. But being the largest hardly makes us the best. I mean, Paul the Octopus has six more legs than Usain Bolt, but that’s not going to make it the Fastest Man in the World, right?


  1. Ruman,

    You do realise there is a difference between making a law and implementing it right? The laws are clear enough. You are allowed to drink if you are 18 or above. The implementation of the laws, however is faulty.

    *Sigh* Look, just like Ferraris are red, Lamborghinis are orange, sex is worth the wait, and jeans are blue., there will always be cops who are working for shit wages, unearthly hours and unlike effed up Bollywood movies, could not care two pence about serving the country. They look around at punk kids blowing up cash, "raising hell", as the media reports, (oh, crummy, where are the AFFA when you need them to show these punks a thing or two about hell raising?), and generally having a ball. Why not earn some money out of that?

    The fault is not with the law makers, but with the implementation, with the social construct. What are these kids complaining about? They said they do not have 500 rupees per person? Bollocks! 500 rupees? That would barely cover charges to enter a disc, and then rot away in the arms of a sexed up toothpick.

    Sure, you and me as conscientious individuals feel outraged at the way the situation has been taken care of, but I say give everybody a free hand. Let the kids party hard I say, but then, if you are so adept at partying, get some testicular fortitude to handle the authorities I say.

    And yes, I have had my share of run ins with the cops. Socked one in the kisser and spewed blood, when a completely sozzled cop asked me to pay him a bribe for drunken driving. Handle it yourself, or quit complaining, bloody eunuchs.


  2. Evo, thanks! Implementation is, and has always been, questionable. No argument. But the ideology and ethical framework behind the making of these laws is the root, no?

    When the foundation is dumb, the pillars are simply going to do a shabby job of holding up the empire.

    If you eat too much masala dal, you are going to fart. But it's not your bum that's at fault, it's the bloody dal.

  3. If you eat too much masala dal, you are going to fart. But it's not your bum that's at fault, it's the bloody dal.


  4. @ Ruman

    Flawed logic. The evolution of the fart is the choice that YOU made to have the bloody dal in the first place. YOU always have a choice.

    You know what the laws say. You know how the laws are implemented. How you choose to bend the law to suit your own purposes is YOUR choice. You cannot expect to take the goat of the authorities (the police, in this case), and expect them to treat you with kid gloves. When you choose to bend the law, learn to take a whack or two for it, or grow a pair for Jesus’ sake to give back a mark or two.

    Which is the whole point of this argument. It was an informed decision that THEY themselves took. What the fuck are they complaining about?


  5. Evo, I repeat, 'They were at fault, even if of a lesser magnitude than they were projected to be, and they’re a waste of my afternoon'

    Who the fuck is on about kid gloves? The problem is, the entire country is flawed. And yes, I have made my choice, and that is to write about it. What would I do if I wasn't writing? Well, I'd make this the largest dictatorship in the world.


  6. @ Ruman

    I agree. The system is flawed. However, and this is a BIG however, there are people who live in this system, exploit it, play by it, and get rich!

    The point is, Ruman, no system is entirely right or entirely wrong. A dictatorship, when we sit down with a beer to discuss the pros and cons, would bring out as many flaws, if not more than a democracy. Jesus, think about it Ruman, if this country was to have a dictator like Advani or Vajpayee, or say, you, for that matter.

    You would probably ban cars and run motorcycles only, give Hell's Angels a free hand, and judge people only when you have a few beers and a tub of petrol down your gullet (ahh, sweet dreams are made of this). You would be happy. I would be happier, but what of those who love four wheels? What of those who yearn to sit inside cages and never taste the wind in the hair? Horrors! Is the system not flawed for them?

    Which brings us to the eternal question of where I am going with this. Nowhere, actually. You have a system. Good/ bad is always open to debate. But the thing is, you cannot change it being the person you are. Hence, either live by it. And learn how to exploit it. Or perish trying to change it.

    I have learnt to live by it. Exploit it to use it to my advantage. Pay my taxes while trying to save that penny which goes into my 2004 ZX 10R fund.

    Have you?


  7. 2010 GSXR 1000. Period. :)


  8. @ Ruman

    Either the 2004 ZX 10R or the 2002 ZX 7R.

    Though I love the Gixxers, there is something missing in a Suzuki, you know? I mean, the bikes are beautiful, they are nice, they pile on the velocities pretty quick, but I don't know what, something is missing.

    A Kwacker is complete. Whole. Soulful music. Angry. On hallucinogens. Hooligans. A raging maniac. An Amy Winehouse on speed, viagra, amphetamines and venom, with gallons of JD thrown in for good measure.

    Kwackerian always!


  9. '97 Kawasaki ZX 7R (with those loud purple wheels) - Dream!


  10. Oh, and the Z1300 with that 'Six-Cylinders' badge on the side panels