Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Being Jelly

There are only 2 kinds of dictionaries in the world. The Urban Dictionary and the not-so-urban dictionary. According to the latter, here’s what jelly means:

But who really refers to an actual dictionary nowadays? I’m sure nobody walks around with a pocket edition of the Oxford Dictionary like we used to back in the ‘90s. And we hardly bother looking up for terms we don't understand on our mobile phones either. But we don’t waste a minute before searching for our own name on the super cool Urban Dictionary. And according to that, here’s what jelly really means:

Oh btw, before I proceed with the blog, here’s what my name means on Urban Dictionary:

I'm cool, in a unique sense. I can work with that. But wait, there's more:

Now I'm the ultimate cool person. And I am also a unique creation of God! Haha, but this is my favourite one: 

I have a cool toothbrush? (I don't know what this is about)

PS - I haven't written any of these myself neither have I paid vanessa_i or dart vader or ThisOneGuyYouKnow to write all of this. I guess it's just in the name. But I wish I was more like the 3rd definition mentioned here. I'm probably the exact opposite of it. But more on that some other time. I will come back with a blog on my social skills and how big a 'player' I am when it comes to talking to girls. I'll now get back to the topic of Being Jelly.

I don't know what being gelatin means, BECAUSE I AM HINDU AND I CAN'T KNOW ABOUT COW AND PIG. But I do know what being jelly means. I'm sure you do too. Everybody does. We're all khokhla people who can never be even remotely satisfied with what we have (Are Gujaratis Dhokla people?). Even if a guy gets an Angelina Jolie with 3 titties or a girl gets a Brad Pitt with a 6-pack on his penis, they won't be satisfied. Once they are done with them or once they see someone else with someone / something better, like a 4 titted Angelina Jolie or a 12-pack penised Brad Pitt, they'll start feeling jelly and get unhappy with what they have. It goes on and on and on and it never ends. It's a vicious circle.

For those who don't know what a vicious circle means, this diagram should show you exactly what it means:

This is exactly what a vicious circle looks like. When you pee to take the water out of your body and then you drink water so that you can pee. It never ends. 

The same hold true for jealousy between humans. We're almost always feeling jealous of someone else for some reason or the other. It is usually not the same person that we are jealous of at all times. The moment we match or get better than the person we were jealous of, we find someone else to be even more jealous of. This cycle of unhappiness continues all our lives. Here's how it happens through the life-cycle of any human being on Earth:

6 years old
You're jealous of a kid who has a cycle
You get a cycle
Now you're jealous of a kid who has a cycle with gears

12 years old
You're jealous of a kid who just went to Singapore for summer holidays
You go to Singapore for summer holidays
Now you're jealous of a kid who went to Switzerland for summer holidays (and got molested buying chocolates from a stranger)

18 years old
You're jealous of a friend who is having sex
You start having sex
Now you're jealous of a friend who is having sex with multiple partners. At the same time even. In different positions. With whips and stones. Without breaking any bones.

30 years old
You're jealous of a colleague who earns more than you
You start earning more than that particular colleague
Now you're jealous of a kid who just became a millionaire with a new start up which does something stupid yet it works and the kid sells it for a lot of money and runs away to Goa

45 years old
You're jealous of how a friend who owns a house, a BMW, a pretty wife, and 2 beautiful kids
You buy a house, a BMW, get married, have 2 kids
Now you're jealous of a guy who owns a house and a BMW

75 years old
You're jealous of a guy who is having sex
You're not having sex. You can't have sex. You are too old now.
You are jealous of your grandson now as well who can at least play with himself

90 years old
You're jealous of a man who's dead rather than sick
You become so sick that you also die
You're jealous that you're not in heaven

As you can see from the heavily researched results above, there is no end to Being Jelly in our lives. We'll always be jelly even after we die. It is how we are wired and programmed. No matter what we achieve, no matter where we reach, no matter what we have, we will always find someone better than us to feel jealous of. The sooner you realise this fact of life, the happier you will be.

Unless you become Dalai Lama. I'm sure he is not jealous of anyone or anything. I'm so jelly of him right now. He's sitting on Twitter giving out gyaan to an audience of almost 10 million people and when I do the same to my 700 odd followers, they unfollow me and some even report my account.

So if there is anyone in this world who has broken out of this vicious circle, show yourself now. I am looking for you. And you know why. I need someone new now to be jelly of.

A Toilet In Your Living Room

This is no ordinary toilet that I’m talking about. You don’t visit this toilet at all. But it still exists in almost all households in India. It is usually in your drawing rooms. Sometimes, it is in your bedroom too. And I’m not talking about the attached bathroom you may have in your bedroom. This is something you have inside your room. Some are really fancy and expensive with all sorts of cool gadgets attached whereas some others are simple enough which get the job done. Either way, it is still used for the same purpose, a place where you could take a dump. Simple. It’s a shit hole. A latrine. A sandaas. A ghusalkhana. Whatever floats your boat.

Don’t take it literally. For those who couldn’t figure out what I’m talking about, I’m referring to the so called Idiot-Box! The television. A gadget that was invented by a great… Wait, let me Google… I don’t know, 3 names popped up, so let it be. The television was invented for a noble purpose of entertaining people. It fulfilled its destiny for many a years but it has been turned into a shit pot in recent times. A toilet where actors come and take a dump on their viewers through their shitty shows. The content has gone so bad that it almost feels like it would be better to smear someone else’s feces on our faces than watch their crappy shows.

The biggest problem is, that we’ve started enjoying them taking a dump on us and on our minds and on our brains and on our intellect and on our intelligence. We’ve gotten so used to the kind of content that is on TV these days that there does not exist any standard whatsoever of the quality of what comes on TV. We reach an orgasm when someone gets knocked out of Big Boss or someone comes back to life in some 13 yearlong never ending soap opera with daily episodes. We love it when we make ourselves a part of absurd nonsensical news shows that last for an hour and we enjoy every bit of the ads which show some movies in between them.

Even the person who was referred to as an ‘idiot’ when they named the TV an ‘idiot-box’ would feel more intelligent than Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking. We’ve managed to ensure that nothing of ‘good’ quality ever comes on TV ever again. While in one part of the world they are making some of the best TV shows ever created, we’re doing the exact opposite by creating, watching, and enjoying the worst of TV shows in the whole wide world ever!

The biggest problem is, it’s only getting worse.

I don’t seen an end to the streak of crappy reality shows, noisy news shows, 28 ads per hour on every channel, music channels with no music, never ending drama series, and other similar crap in the name of content. The only thing watchable on TV is probably some Football. Why I don’t include Cricket here is because firstly, I’m not interested in Cricket any longer, and even if I was, I wouldn’t have enjoyed watching it anymore because of the insane amount of branding done during a match. Every stupid ball is brought to you by some brand and every boundary is brought to you by 10 others. The screen is half filled by 60 different brands and, for heaven’s sake, there are ads in between balls as well! What has this world come to?

I dream of a day when we could have some good quality content on TV again which people could sit and enjoy. I’m not necessarily talking about stuff that stimulates you intellectually, even light hearted fun stuff is acceptable. But please let it be good. And not crap. We’ve had enough shit taken over us, it’s time we flush it all down for a new beginning. Oh TV lord if you can hear us, save us!

PS – If you are going to start an argument about ‘good’ being subjective, please go dig your nose and eat what comes out of it. 

Sunday, 16 November 2014

My Penis is Circumcised And I’m Not A Terrorist

Yes, it is. No, I’m not.  
How or why you may ask? Tarantino did it with a sword. Watch the video here.
No, he didn’t. So how the hell is this possible? A person who is circumcised and still not a terrorist? Oh, ya, I’m not Muslim. But that doesn’t cut it though, does it? No pun intended. Not all Muslims are terrorists. I know 3 Muslims who are not terrorists. But I know just 3 Muslims. So that means, 100% of Muslims are not terrorists? Hallelujah! And I’m not Jewish either. Then why the hell am I circumcised? Did I get it done by mistake? Was I born like this? Or did someone bite it off? Why? Why? Why? I needed an answer and I had the talk with my parents a few years back about this. It was one of those talks when your parents tell you that you’re adopted.

“Child, come here. Sit. We love you. We will always love you. No matter what. We love you like you’re ours.”
“What do you mean ‘like’ I’m yours. Am I not yours?”
“Oh of course of course!”

Well, I had an incident when I was a kid.
Once upon a time, when I was 6 years old, I went to the loo to take a leak. Back then it was called susu karna when you would just stand and dance around and dirty the whole pot and feel so happy about it singing la la la la la. And there were times when I didn’t wear underwear under my wear. I guess I never paid heed to the word ‘underwear’. What it actually meant. Till that fateful day! So wearing a pair of shorts with a zipper without an underwear underneath, is not a very good idea. Alas, I did not know this back then. I would feel cool that my ding dong was just a zip away and I could pee whenever and wherever I wanted to. On the street, while playing cricket, while playing football, while playing badminton, while playing pakdam pakdai, while playing kho kho, while playing ghar ghar (yes I did play ghar ghar and I always used to name myself Ravi for some reason). I would just say “Yaar susu karke ata hu.” and would go away to a corner or a wall or a car or a tree, open up my zipper and let the fluids out and come back within 45 seconds. So one day, as I pulled down my zipper… You know the story after this, don’t you? I’m sure all guys have had an incident like this once in their lives. If not, then either you do not have a wee wee or you are lying. But if you genuinely don’t know what happened next, go watch the first 15 minutes of There’s Something About Mary and then continue with the blog.
Well, the above incident was not the reason either. Sorry for confusing you all. But a slightly milder version of what happened to Ben Stiller happened to me, but no big deal. I’m circumcised because there was some issue with my organ when I was about 5 years old so my parents decided to get me operated upon and get it fixed. With Allah’s kripa, all is well and the rocket in my pocket goes off perfectly fine. Way too often though, at times.
Well, I think you have read enough about my penis. Let me get to the real point of this blog now. You know what it means for me with the current state of my wand? If and when there are any Hindu-Muslim riots in the country, I shall be slaughtered this way or that. The Hindus will burn me alive if I show them my dick (but why would I do that?). And the Muslims will chop me up if they ask my name (will they even bother?). Imagine you’re walking on the street and you see this gang of orange men coming towards you and you’re like “Hey duuuuudesss, check out my shlong!!” and they’d be like jala do saale ko. Or, you’re eating kababs and a bunch of capped men come and say “Dear sir, what is your kind name? We need to know before we show you something.” And with excitement you tell them your name and they take out their little friends and shoot! I think it’s possible in a country like ours.
In India, people don’t believe in right or wrong. They believe in name, caste, culture, religion, state, origin, language, and all other things that don’t particularly matter. Other things they believe in include dowry, rapes, injustice, corruption, ‘bad boyz attitude’, ‘v dNt fOLLow no RuLZ’ attitude, and lot’s more. I mean, we live in a country where it is believed that you can wash away all your sins by taking a dip in a sewer. Imagine that!  It’ll be so convenient!

“Hey, let me just go out and kill a few men. And I’ll quickly jump into that sewer to undo everything I’ve done! Woo fucking hoo!”

Also, to not single out the sewer, people also believe that they’re fighting God’s war!

“I must kill men and oppress women to please my God as he was as evil as me. I must also marry 29 women and have 290 kids each.”
In an evil country like this, what can me and my little friend do? I and he try to spread the seed of happiness wherever possible. Him not so much, but I do my best. But it seems it is only getting worse. Someone told me yesterday that the buffalo that was killed at the Surat airport was actually a tanned cow and it was a ploy against the ruling government. I mean, what would be a tanned cow doing in a state like Gujarat, you tell me! Wouldn’t she be chilling on the beaches of Goa sipping some beer giving some milk and making White Russians below her belly?

For those who got excited reading the last part, this blog is definitely not for you! Please stop and get yourself checked.

Ab aise zamane mei mera wo hi meri budhape ki laathi banega. I’m sure it won’t be too much of a laathi when I’m old but I’m hoping for the best while I’ll be groping for the breast. If you know what I mean.

So this was my tribute to Shahrukh Khan’s classic dialogue My Name Is Khan And I’m Not A Terrorist. As if you didn’t know that already. More on me and my penis, next time!