Real Men Don’t Cry

The Jawan is not laughing today. The Jawan wants to cry. But since the Jawan is a man, he can’t. It’s because real men don’t cry. Yeah, that’s the kind of world we live in.

Just a note of caution, if you’re expecting a typical Laughing Jawan post with humour, you’re going to be disappointed with this one. Not that I make you laugh all the time, right?

I was quite the cry baby when I was a kid. I would end up crying at every little thing. None of my friends of cousins were like this. I wasn’t too extreme either. I would cry if someone hit me, I would cry if something happened at home. Not like I would cry if I saw a white pigeon. Not that kind of a cry baby but give me a reason and I’ll show you my tears.

Now because of that a lot of people thought of me as a chump. And all this was happening when I was 8-10-12 years old. My formative years. That’s when I was still soft and could have been moulded into anything. But because of all the comments from people around me, mostly relatives and older friends, I couldn’t be what I was naturally. I was told by my uncles “Arre ladke hoke rote ho. Ladkiyon ki tarah rote ho.” Even my aunts didn’t spare “Chup karo. Kaise ladkiyon ki tarah ro rahe ho.” Even my friends would say to me “Hahahaha kaise ro raha hai ladkiyon ki tarah.”

It never felt nice. It took time but I gradually stopped crying. I grew up a little and started realising that boys were not supposed to cry like this. Only in dire situations were they allowed to cry. Like, maybe a death in the family or something. It was because that was what I had seen in life. The only time I had seen men cry was during a death of a close one. Although, I hadn’t seen too many people die during my childhood, just experienced my naani’s demise when I was about 8 or something. Even then I couldn’t cry. I had started becoming this boy who would fight the tears. Who wouldn’t let go. He started being conscious of what people around him would think if he ended up crying.

There were still instances when I howled but probably by the time I was 15, I had more or less stopped crying. Even if I got hurt, I would fight the tears and not cry. To be honest, it didn’t pain me that much either, the little bruises, etc. like they used to when I was younger. Even in a situation when there was emotional pain, someone said something mean, someone did something, I would fight back the tears and not let them fall of out my eyes. My eyes would be filled with the tears just dying to come out but I would somehow maintain my composure and keep them in. I knew if I let go then I would howl and it would not be a nice scene. Nobody wanted to watch a grown boy cry.

Once I started drinking, things changed a little. When I was leaving the apartments where I had stayed for over 17 years, it was an extremely emotional moment. I called a few of my friends over for a last round of drinks in the house where I had spent a good few prime years of my youth. That night I got drunk and I howled. I howled so much that a couple of more friends had to be called in to help me. I was drunk and I was letting it all out and it felt good. I felt like letting it all go. Bare my soul in front of my friends and let them know. I didn’t want to keep it in this time and the booze helped me kill the inhibitions after years of keeping quiet. And you know what? It felt much lighter after that. It became easier for me to deal with the fact that I was leaving the place where I spent almost all my childhood at. The place where I got my first dog and where I lost her too. Even that night, I didn’t cry. I so badly wanted too, though.

Having experienced a few deaths around me in recent times, I have thought more and more about this phenomena in our society. I’ve been turned into this creature of sorts who does not cry. I still give in time and again when I get badly drunk but that happens probably even less than once a year. I mean, I don’t remember when I cried the last time. I’ve been to funerals and cremations. I saw my own grandfather pass away sometime back. The last link tying the family of my mother’s side. Not saying that we’re all divided now, but it’s just not the same. The one place, the common hub, the one man who commanded it all without doing it directly, now does not exist. And that saddens me in spite of the fact that I’m not too fond of all my relatives.

Even when I am on the verge of crying, that precise moment when I’m about to burst, that instance when you can’t even speak because you may end up crying, I still manage to keep it all in, suck up the tears, and show a strong face. I don’t know if it actually makes me strong or not. All the pain and sadness is still inside of me. I still keep thinking about it. On the outside, people either think I’m strong or I don’t care. I don’t know what to do about that.

I am this person now. Unless something extreme happens, I don’t shed a tear. There are times when my eyes do get filled up but that’s that. I don’t let it get any ‘worse’. I have been conditioned like this now. It’s unfair. I don’t want to be a cry baby or anything but I do, at times, want to give in and just let it all out. I know people won’t mind. I know my girlfriend will be there for me. I know my parents will be there. I know my sister will be around. I know my friends will help. But I still can’t get myself to cry in front of people like that. So much so that I feel conscious even if I’m alone in my room at night and I feel like crying. I don’t.

It’s unfair because I do want to let go at times. It’s unfair because women can do it so easily. I want to be able to deal with sadness in an honest way like that. I also want this outlet to be an option when it’s needed to be one. I don’t want to be this strong macho man whose eyes have dried up and he has become a stone from the inside. I have not and I don’t want to.

I want to let go. But I can’t. It’s just sad at times. 

Achhe Din Aa Gaye

I was a little sceptical about Narendra Modi becoming the Prime Minister of India but after the happenings over the last couple of day, I’m quite sure that he is the right choice.

Friday was a landmark day for him and BJP. They became clear winners of the Lok Sabha Elections 2014 trumping Congress and Aam Admi Party (AAP) pretty badly. It was as expected and the ‘Achhe Din Aane Wale Hai’ chants turned to ‘Achhe Din Aa Gaye’. I still didn’t completely believe in our Lord and saviour Narendra Modi Ji until Saturday.

As promised, he delivered on what he promised. He said he would bring happiness into our homes and that’s exactly what he did. In fact, his effect has spiralled worldwide and people all across the globe must thank him for what he has done. Something that Congress couldn’t do for over 10 years (almost), Modi and his aides at BJP took less than 24 hours after winning the elections to achieve it. It was a feat unmatched and all temples on his name are now completely justified.

I personally had been waiting to something positive in my life after having given up on Congress a couple of years back. Who was to say that Modi Ji would just take a day? Me along with millions of other people around the world owe it to him. The master. The professor. The great one.

It didn’t come easy though. Almost till the last minute there was no confirmation if he’d be able to pull it off or not. But he silenced his critics masterfully and let his actions speak for him. All the doubters and haters were silenced for once and agreed that Modi, the king, had arrived.

I can only see positivity in the air now and the future definitely looks brighter. There are going to be plenty of more achievements and we’ll be back at the top after such a long hiatus. To say ‘It feels good’ would be such an understatement. So would be ‘It feels orgasmic’. It’s much more than an orgasm. There were tears of joy. It was the greatest moment of our lives, ever!

Thank you Modi Ji for making Arsenal win the FA Cup 2014. Thank you Modi Ji for making Arsenal lift a trophy after 9 years. Thank you Modi ji for bringing a smile upon Arsene Wenger’s face after so long. Thank you Modi Ji for everything. Your actions and your promise of ‘Achhe Din Aane Wale Hain’ wasn’t just confined to India but it rattled our homeland, England too. London may be red but surely everyone sees saffron in it. Job well done, sir.

Also, I took a nice dump on Sunday, my fart didn’t smell too bad today, I cleaned my nose and nobody noticed, a friend of mine ate a sandwich, I filled water in the cooler, my L’Oreal shampoo still remains, surely, Achhe Din Aa Gaye Hain. If these are not happy days, I can only wonder where we go from here.

Narendra Modi, I love you. And thank you, again. 

Indian Politics in 2014

True story, bro.

Ignore the meme above. And ignore the ones that keep appearing. If you are expecting a serious, well researched, and insightful blog about politics, well, you are at the right place. I will exceed your expectations and by the end of the blog you would want me to become the next Prime Minister of India. I will be RaVa. Or LaJa. Or something. Maybe just MaMeSa.

RaVa is short for Rachit Varma, which is my name.

LaJa is short for Laughing Jawan, which is my blog’s name.

MaMeSa, my favourite, is short my for my Twitter handle @MayaMemeSaab.

And that's how I roll.

I’ve seen elections before. Starting from school for the posts of the head boy and the head girl. Those were important times. Alas, I was never a candidate. I was an averagely average boy. I had a side parting and I used to apply coconut oil in my hair. But, for the actual winners, it was a big deal. It defined the rest of their lives. For boys it meant they’d get to go to the US and marry a small town girl from India. For girls it meant they’d get to go to the US and marry an ex head boy, from their school or some other.

I have also experienced local colony elections amongst friends to decide who would get to throw an egg on the girl everyone had a crush on. I won that a couple of times but could never hit the mark. I was bad at cricket too. See how average I was? I even remember the Delhi elections that just happened last year where I voted for the very first time in my life. But the elections that are happening right now, are way beyond my comprehension. You lost me at NaMo…

Dil ki baat.

Let me make my stance clear before I continue. I am not for anyone. I will openly tell you that I voted for NOTA. I do not support any of the parties out there contesting the elections right now. I don’t think I will ever be able to do it too. Till the time we have cow praising, people killing, ugly ass fat and old uneducated idiots contesting the elections, I am sorry, they will not have my vote of support.

Like, seriously.

Politics and elections is all fine. They are a part of life because that’s how a democracy functions, at least on paper. It’s the people, you people, who bother me. I have never seen a crazier bunch of people. Last time I saw such madness was when this ‘Didi’ had a wardrobe malfunction when all of us little kids were out swimming. I will always remember that day as ‘The Day When We Hit Puberty And Had Our First Hard On’. Ahh, what a glorious day for mankind. Let me relive it and come back in 4 minutes.

And I’m done. Continuing…

From old intellectuals to young hipsters, everyone is riding this Indian Political wave that has become so stupidly hilarious that it’s poli-tickling me now. It was unexpected from so many of the people around me to indulge in any kind of support or bashing of the politicians that I don’t know if I can trust even my dog or the pet mouse that I have in my kitchen who is not afraid of me and keeps staring at me no matter what I do I have not eaten in 8 days. Some are out there with their dicks in their hands and wanking off to the most likely PM to be announced. Some are shoving brooms up their behinds in sheer pleasure that they get out of it. And I am not talking about the mice in my kitchen. Although, that would be quite a sight.

There are some who are opposing them so fiercely that they’ve quit their jobs and moved in back with their parents and spending 18 hours a day just bashing the politician they hate. I once did that in the summer of 2010 and all I did was watch porn and masturbate. Still more productive than what these other guys are doing.

Am I???

I can’t wait for the elections to get over. I need people around me to become normal again. I need better conversations than the ones comparing penis sizes of Narendra Modi, Rahul Gandhi and, Arvind Kejriwal. I have no interest in them whatsoever. At least discuss bosoms of Mamata Banerjee, Mayawati, and Jayalalitha. Everywhere I go, everything I do, everyone I meet; all I can see, hear and feel has something to do with the ongoing elections and Indian Politics in 2014. I see a broom and BANG! I see a monkey and BANG! I travel in a train to Ahmedabad and I stop at Godhra and BANG!

It's unpossible.

Please get this over with as soon as you can otherwise I will have to illegally move to Bangladesh and become a male prostitute and get deported to Thailand as a ladybody of sorts and hope for a better life. Do you really want to stop reading the awesome stuff I write? NoNa? Let’s move on with our lives. There are castles to be built, noses to be dug, Anil Kapoor’s hair to be shaved and banana peels to be slipped on.

Please feel free to use the awesomely contextual, topical memes around Indian Politics and the ongoing elections, with my face on them, on your social networks. Enjoy! 

Big time, man!

You're welcome.

What is up?

Can't help it!

To Buy Or Adopt?

I’m not talking about kids here. This blog is not an intense piece about child trafficking in India but it’s about KUTTE! It’s about those dumb creatures who we humans love dearly and think they can protect us from all evil. They do protect us from some shit like sadness, depression, frustration, etc. but they hardly help us in any other manner. I find them to be quite useless to be honest and they’re only good at one thing: making you feel loved. And that’s reason enough for me to have one in my life, always.

But I’m not here to write about how stupid my dog is or how much I love canines. Today, I’m talking about a recently discovered dilemma that people face when they decide to get a dog in their family. To buy or to adopt?

Lately, I’ve come across a plethora of advocates talking about the advantages of adopting a dog rather than buying one. They say that buying a dog is not right both morally and ethically. Nowadays it’s suggested that people should rather adopt a dog off a street or a shelter and give that little unloved puppy a loving home.

Now I get the whole deal about people trying to give these unfortunate puppies a nice home but what I don’t get is the whole negativity around buying a dog. They need to realise that not everyone wants to pick up a dog from the streets or get a stray from a shelter. Some people want smaller breeds. Some people prefer bigger ones. It’s just what they like and there’s nothing wrong with that. They also have reasons for those decisions a lot of times. Old people prefer keeping small dogs because they’re easier to manage. People with big houses can keep big dogs and it complements their stature as well.

When it comes to strays, you don’t get too many options like this. I know a lot of people who have strays at home and, in fact, even I’ve always taken care of the ones living around my house. They’re alright but not many people want to take the risk as they’re behaviour is more susceptible to being unpredictable. I wouldn’t prefer to get a stray to my house purely because it’s my old parents who take care of the dog primarily and not me. It’s best for them if we have a small dog, which we do currently, a Dachshund. The strays are also often of the same average size. They all look particularly the same but I’m not being judgemental here. I love all dogs no matter what size or breed. But let’s leave the decisions of buying or adopting to the people and not become too preachy.

Adoption is not always possible since these pure bred dogs don’t often come for free. Educating people is important, I get it. And the whole deal about breeders killing off unwanted pups and it becoming a bad business and all, does not mean people should start adopting strays only. Rather the authorities should put a check on those who don’t practice this ethically and treat the animals badly. The solution does not lie in not buying. It’s like saying that girls should not step out because the cops can’t control the rowdy men. That will be all.