What crosses your mind the moment you see a picture? Whatever it is, it portrays your personality. Here is a collection of nine images….with what occured to me the moment I saw them. Try your luck…and see if you can come up with interesting lines!
Month: November 2005
Categories
The evolution of toilets
[Warning: This is a long and boring article and requires holding of your nose at times.]
I know this is a touchy subject and we find it obnoxious to talk of our toilet habits. But let us do it today!
Indians have always mingled with nature to answer nature`s call. It seems Sher Shah Suri had one section of his courtyard dedicated only to relieve himself. King Chandra Gupta Maurya always had one assistant stand close with a copper utensil full of water…even as two of his security men stood on two sides. Akbar, the king who was always late (even today he is known as Late Akbar), used to be so shy that he changed his dressing style to suit his toilet habits. He shifted to skirts because they were more comfortable while attending to nature`s call.
If the kings had their whims, the commoners had their fancies. In those days, water management had not evolved as a science…and hence all the ponds and lakes were full of water. The commoner had to visit a barren patch near a water body and relieve himself. It was the case of two birds with one stone – fertilize the barren land too!
This was around the same time that the phrase “I am in deep shit” came to be used commonly.
Most weathermen of those times started depending on their early morning missions for their weather predictions. History books say unlike the weatherman of today, during ‘shit-in-the-outside` time weathermen used to be exact. They would use their bums to find the wind`s direction and humidity levels, and deduce the inference. Since the weathermen`s bums were mostly clothed…when unclothed…they were sensitive to small differences in weather conditions…hence the success rate.
It took a long while coming for Indians to graduate from the sit-on-the grass-and-get-your bum tickled to use-the-shared-toilets. I know…using a lawn mower would have been easy…but there is no explanation as to why Indians shifted to shared toilets. In the evenings, people would have community dinner…and in the morning it would be time for community toilets.
With time, people realized that it wasn`t a great scene to be seen waiting with a lota outside a half broken door that belonged to the single community toilet of their area. Nobody cleaned it…nobody repaired it…in short it was nobody`s baby. This necessitated building ‘owned` toilets.
There was no way a puja room, kitchen and a toilet could co-exist in the same house. It was against religion…and was not practical. So the first toilets for households appeared outside of the house…but within the compound wall. Now, they didn`t have to wait in the queue and the experience was a bit more hygienic. With time, another issue propped up. What happens when a 19-year old girl wants to visit the toilet at 1 a.m.? Won`t it be risky to let her go out alone? And if the 50-year old bandit Raghvendra Yadav was out of jail it was dangerous even for the 40-year-old ladies.
The man of the house decided to build a toilet inside and cut down the risk to his life. Since those were the days of bandits….soon all households had a toilet inside. They were placed as further away from the puja room and kitchen as possible. Soon enough the logic that if you can shit inside your house….you might as well take bath struck a chord. Enter bathrooms.
The 19-year-old girl for whom the toilet (and later bathroom) was brought into the house…was now 24 years old and married. She would occasionally come home – with her husband. During her visits she and her husband would sleep in the hall, while the parents slept in the adjoining room. The door between them would be closed…for obvious reasons. With the door to the toilet closed, the parents didn`t have a toilet to relieve themselves. Having been used to the luxury…now it was difficult to hold one`s bladder through out the night. Enter the attached bathroom.
Things have changed quite a bit from the first attached bathroom. Last week …when Rekha and I visited a model flat (costing 56 lakhs…the reason why we ran away from there)…it had four bathrooms. And each bathroom was the size of our current bedroom.
Had we signed on for that house, we would have been in deep shit!
Addendum
After reading this treatise, Thebluefactor has left a comment which has opened my eyes. Here is his comment –
“Good one, you forgot to delve on western style and how India integrated the hand shower into western style potty. I was surprised to see that last time I visited the great land.”
How could I have missed out these details. As punishment, I have decided to abstain myself from the bathroom for the next three days.
Now about their origin…. The Western Style lavatories took time coming to India. Probably because the potty were always made of ceramic…and would sink in the Indian ocean/Arabian Sea that separated the Western world and India. Some even say that the ceramic potty sunk in the ocean because it didn`t know swimming.
But seriously, in the west, this style of potty was invented because they always wore trousers, belts…and carried huge wallets…and had a holster with two pistols hanging by the side. Now, imagine somebody sitting on an Indian toilet with all this paraphernalia! As if this constraint was not enough… the Westerners didn`t have schools where teachers asked you to stand on your knees for half the day…thus all grew up without strong knees – a pre-requisite for successful completion of nature`s call in an Indian styled toilet.
As for the integration of the hand shower into the Western style potty in India…. I would blame it on the importance we give to paper. Since, it was not good for Saraswathi…toilet paper never sold well in India.
And thanks to the item girl of yesteryears…Helen…showers were popular in the 70s. So much so…builders started considering taps as a waste of money. It was around this time that the Western Style potty entered India. With no toilet paper, everybody looked for the tap…but there were none. Their next stop was the showers…but with the showers placed a clear seven feet above the ground…aiming was difficult…everybody got drenched in the downpour. One such user who was forced to combine shitting and bathing because he got drenched everytime he shat…. decided to reduce the height of the shower…and give it some flexibility…and use it for the right purpose.
Man…this place stinks!
Categories
Nehru’s two mistakes
This is a joke my father once told me.
It seems Winston Churchill was visiting India and Jawahar Lal Nehru took him on an early morning walk around the Teen Murti Bhavan. Midway through the walk, Churchill pointed to a man squatting by the roadside and asked Nehru, “What is that man doing?”
“He is shitting,” Nehru replied.
“Are you serious? Is this the way you Indians shit every day?”
The Indian Prime Minister could not let down his country and said, “No…this is an one off case.”
Over a period of time, Churchill forgot the incident but Nehru couldn`t. It was a clear insult to India…and he wanted to avenge. When he visited England after a few years…he insisted on going for a walk with Churchill. Nehru knew that England was not yet a clean-toilet nation… and there were bound to be Englishmen shitting on grass.
Mid-way through their walk, they spotted a man squatting between the shrubs in Hyde Park. Excited at having found an Englishman shitting in the open…he alerted Churchill.
“What is that guy doing out there?”
“No idea Pandit Nehru. Let us see.” So saying, Churchill summoned his security guard and asked him to fetch that man. As the man neared …Nehru wondered if he had made the right decision by alerting Churchill. The man had Asian looks.
Churchill asked the man: “What were you doing between those shrubs?”
“My ship from India landed only today morning. Since, I couldn`t hold it any longer I had to squat between those shrubs. I am sorry…but this is how we would relieve ourselves in our motherland.”
Nehru never spoke a word to Churchill, during the whole tour.
Coming tomorrow: The Evolution of Toilets!
I was lucky enough to visit my page when the counter showed 1,11,111. Below given is a screenshot. But beware…the number 111 is supposed to be a bad omen. And doesn`t 111111 mean double the trouble?
The number 111 is sometimes called a “Nelson”, after Admiral Nelson. It is so called because the person who coined the term believed that Lord Nelson had one eye, one arm and one leg. The truth is…Nelson had one eye, one arm…but two legs.
Like elsewhere, in cricket too 111 is considered a bad omen. When the score stops at 111 runs…sometimes the batting teams walk out of the ground…relax for a few minutes and then walk in again. Umpire David Shepherd took the superstitions it to greater heights by standing on one leg for as long as the team didn’t pass the 111 runs mark.
A few consider 111 runs on the scoreboard as unlucky because the number resembles stumps without the bails. The argument continues…
If you still don`t believe in this 111 thing… here try this…there is an element called Roentgenium (Atomic Number – 111) and it had to wait till 2004 to get a good name…. Roentgenium. Earlier…it had been called ‘Unununium`. The only other name as obnoxious is duedonum. .
Another hint that 111 is unlucky comes in the form the 1998 crash of Swissair Flight 111. Ever since the route has been stopped. More than 230 lives were lost in the crash….the reason, they was the over-heating of the entertainment system. How silly …
The good news is… next time you are New Zealand and are in trouble…you can call 111 – it is the emergency telephone number of that country!
Categories
God exists
They say God is love. And I believe I am God…so where is my love? Working in Cognizant Technologies Solution, Navallur, Chennai office*?
For those who think there is no God, try getting an electrician to set right your blown fuse, or try getting a puncture-wala to set right your flat tyre …on a Sunday morning. You will realize that just because you don`t see him and can`t find him…it doesn`t mean that there is no God.
Probably…God was readily available earlier. Probably…he stopped mingling with rest of the World after he had a bad relationship. I think so because, I once saw a lady shopping alone and a message on her T-shirt said: “My husband and I parted for religious reasons. He thought he was God.” My guess is…she was God`s wife and left him because he didn`t do the dishes and change the nappy pads. Probably, God is getting over the shock of rejection.
With God on leave with personal problems…people have taken recourse to holy books like Gita, Bible, Koran and Sri Guru Granth Sahib. I respect them for they are good…and don`t preach evil.
Like always …I once had a friend who asked me, “What happens if we drop a holy book on a mouse? Doesn`t the holy book kill the mouse?”
“Yes”, I said.
“Doesn`t that make the holy book an evil book?”
“Off course not. You dropped it.” a religious me exclaims.
“OK. What if it fell by itself …like during an earthquake or something.”
I think for a while…and thinking that I got a clincher, I shoot back: “How is the book to blame? It was the earthquake which dropped the book…”
My friend removed all false hopes of me winning the conversation by saying, “Wasn`t the earthquake caused by God? Guess, in such a situation…both God and the holy book become evil.”
Trying hard to stage a comeback….I assured him that God and the holy book don`t become evil…if it were a computer mouse. My friend gave me a stare and walked away towards intelligent company.
God or no God…the God-men sure get paid well. Look at all that money being minted by dozens of God-men speaking on different TV channels in the mornings and evenings. So much so, Mandira Bedi is being given a run for her money. While discussing these God-men, a friend said: “Hey…he is working for God. And I am sure God is definitely a better paymaster than the average Multinational IT company.” I agree.
I know I believe in God…but for the sake of others….I pray that if God really exists…he should send down strawberry flavored rain in Chennai. Besides licking their lips while fleeing their homes…people will start believing in God….
*My wife Rekha works there
Here is the winning post…re-created for your convenience!
A Gentleman`s guide to your wife`s sari
OK, I accept I iron her clothes. Who doesn`t? Just because I don`t have the courage to take her head-on and fight for my rights, you can`t call me a coward. I am quite a brave guy. The other day, I even helped a cat come down a tree. Not to mention, the Red and White Bravery award I got when I was all of ten years old. It is another thing that I refused to climb the Elephant on which I was to be paraded during the Republic Day parade. Guess, I was scared.
Talking of ladies clothes, I can safely (and unashamedly) say that I am now an expert. I might not have the intricate knowledge required to be become a Ritu Beri (and to top it, she is a lady) but I sure can hold my own in a world of hen-pecked husbands. Wonder why we men are known as hen-pecked. I have never seen a hen peck her husband.
The aim of this guide is to help other fellow husbands like me tackle the issue safely. BTW, I am planning on turning ‘Agony Husband` and offer solutions to men suffering from the after-effects of marriage. Simply put, I am planning to help men suffering from a sudden bout of identity crisis.
In this post we will discuss only the Sari.
A very sexy attire. Traditionally Indian. Very laborious to wear (According to a AC Nielsen survey done on 10,000 Indian males, more husbands help their wives in wearing a sari, than removing it. I think, I was the 9,675th husband).
Saris are six meters of pure fun (sometimes cotton, sometimes silk). The material doesn`t matter because whatever tips you read now …you are going to forget it…and one fine day feel a Kancheepuram silk between your right thumb and index finger and say: “Nice cotton…it is so good that it doesn`t even feel like cotton.”
If your wife has decided to wear a sari to office…you better be ready to buy a car. Rekha and I have never been serious about buying a car (it is another thing that we never had money serious enough to buy a car). But in the last six months we must have decided to buy a car, the next day, at least four times. That`s the number of times she has worn a sari to office.
“We need to buy a car,” she would tell me early in the morning.
“Yes Rekha, as you say.” I would meekly surrender even as I keep my face in the newspaper.
“Santro or Zen or anything that is small enough for the two of us,” she says. (More recently it has been Getz)
“Yes Rekha.”
I know it is coming. It is only a matter of time before she breaks the news.
“You know what?” an excited Rekha asks.
“What?”
“Today I am wearing that green sari,” she breaks the biggest news of the day.
She has some 15+ saris and I don`t remember the color of any. I pretend to remember the sari and burst out: “Yeah…that`s a neat one. Last time you wore it…you looked like a Goddess.”
“I did?” A blushing Rekha questions me. She is pretty modest. But I can also notice a spark in her eye that means “Dare to say no!”
I have mentioned here that she has 15+ saris. Wonder if that is a good thing…for I believe the more the number of saris a lady has…the more she is respected in the society. What will all her friends think of her now? Only 15 saris? That is…she would be repeating her saris after every two years and four months? Shame…shame…puppy shame.
Once your wife decides to wear a sari…there are certain things that are understood. You are not getting a decent breakfast…neither is she going to pack lunch for you. She doesn`t want you to drop her…instead will be taking an auto rickshaw. You don`t have to pick her up in the evening because she can`t sit on your stupid two-wheeler (this is the same girl who would have loved your Yamaha, while dating because it provided so much intimacy).
Once decided, she will take an early bath (and that is 6 a.m.) and start the process…matching of the blouse takes half an hour because there is always the other blouse (the one that is the color of the sari`s border) that goes better.
When she starts wearing the sari, a helper/assistant is required. This is when, there is a call “Hello! Anybody home? Can somebody come and help me please?”
I know she is referring to me because there is nobody else in the house…for the next 30 minutes I help her decide the angle, the straight lines, the curves, the folds…blah blah…
She is dressed up like a Barbie by 8.30 a.m. and decides to leave. Just because her sari would crumble…I don`t even get that hug that has been my consolation for the last six weeks. Sob…Sob…I hope Rekha reads this…and gives me a good hug. (God…I should have been in Sales).
Categories
Paris is burning
Paris is burning. In school, they taught us Rome was burning when Nero was playing the fiddle. So, is anybody playing the fiddle in Paris? Besides the French Government …which was last seen playing second fiddle.
Is Paris still the fashion capital? Nobody walks the ramp now a days. The last man who walked became a petrol bomb victim and now limps on the ramp. In short, Paris is no longer fashionable.
Of course, there is another school of thought, which believes that the French capital is still the fashion capital of the World. Just that the stakes have changed and it is now more fashionable to carry a leather bag full of stones to throw at the police…or a petrol bomb for the cars…
The French, known worldwide for their interest in wine are now whining and dining. Some blame the newfound interest in whining on the on-going politics. Some blame it on the riots that have flared in and around Paris, France. At last count 300 cities in France have been brought to a standstill due to riots. For a more clearer picture Click Here.
There is a river called Seine in Paris. Needless to say, it has a Left Bank and a Right Bank. And coincidently…the Left Bank is on the left side of the river while the Right Bank is on the right side of the river. And why are we talking of the river Seine? Because…the French have now Seine it…done it.
France was the last country I expected to go rioting. After all, they are considered the most refined. Well….at least the most refined drinkers. Alas, the last frontier has fallen.
French Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin has said Curfews would be the order of the day. Well, a few curfews.
One important fact, which stands out and interests the Indians is that after a week of rioting…the first life was lost only yesterday. That too…a 61 year old man who couldn`t hold it till he was taken to the hospital. In a week`s riot in India….we would have easily managed 5,50,076 people …give or take 10,000. Lazy French!
The French PM has promised to bring in 9,500 policemen to control the rioting. What a shame…that`s what we get to protect Jayalalitha`s house in Poes Garden, Chennai.
Categories
Aging Gracefully
Never trust a woman who tells you her real age. A woman who would tell you that, would tell you anything.
– Oscar Wilde
I am thirty years old. That is…1/4th of my life is already over. I didn`t realize I was getting old until they showed character-artist AK Hangal on Doordarshan and I found him relatively young.
On second thoughts, thirty is not that bad an age. I mean, if there had been 20 months in a year..I would have been through only 18 birthdays and hence would be only 18 years old. The better part is, it would have been illegal for Rekha (my wife) to marry me.
Talking of birthdays, Joan Rivers once said: When a man has a birthday, he takes a day off. When a woman has a birthday, she takes three years off.
It is not only the women who hide their age. Most men are also known to do the same after they approach 40. Unfortunately, these are the ones who prefer old wine and old cheese.
Once, I was introducing a neighbor of mine to a pretty girl. I said: “Shalini, this is my neighbor. Looking at him, you can never tell he is in his 70s.”
He immediately shot back: “Early 70s”.
Thanks to the latest in cosmetics…old men and women can hide their age. Anti-wrinkle face creams are a big hit…but the users fail to understand that once a grape becomes a raisin…there is no way it can become a grape again. As for the dyeing of white hair…somebody needs to stop a bald man and ask him how good white hair looks.
A recent movie, Pyar Mein Twist has Rishi Kapoor and Dimple Kapadia romancing like they did in the 1973-movie Bobby. Many didn`t receive the movie with open arms. They probably think…romance should be left to the young. One crude joke even suggested that after their marriage Rishi and Dimple visit the Viagra Falls for honeymoon instead of the Niagra Falls.
I don`t remember who, but somebody worth listening to once said…the difference between the young and the old is…the young forget to pull up the zipper …and the old forget to pull it down.
During a recent survey among the really old, the anchor asked: “So, who all want to live till 100?” All the 99 year olds raised their hands. The only 100-year-old gentleman in the group was asked if he wanted to live till 101. He replied in the negative and gave ‘no peer pressure` as the reason.
One guy I appreciate on this front is Lala Amarnath. He was a cricketer and he loved centuries….yet didn`t mind giving up when he was all of 88 years old!