Pink – the color of my life

My life has been suddenly inundated with the color pink. Where ever I see, I see pink. Yes you got it right…the color that one gets by mixing red and white in equal proportions. The color a woman would kill for – pink.

No, I haven`t received a pink slip from the organization I work for, but if I continue to bring in more pink into my life as I have been doing for the last six months…the day isn`t far when my colleagues will throw me out calling me queer.

Just in case you didn`t know, no company in the World has ever given a pink colored termination letter to its employees – there is no origin to the term ‘pink slip`. Researchers believe that it could have been an alien term that Bruce Willis and his team picked up when they went up an asteroid to blow it in the movie ‘Armageddon`. But its origin is besides the point…what bothers me is most is…why use such a feminine term ‘pink slip` for such a manly act? Why don`t we use macho terms like ‘the employee was given the axe` or ‘the employee fell for the cut.` Proof of women dominating the HR departments around the World? (Shhh! If you work for ibibo, don`t forward this to our HR head)

While on the subject, let me tell you that pink slips mean termination only for a few of us. For many others a ‘pink slip` is a reason to close their eyes and think of the woman (or women) in their lives in a pink slip. Besides, a termination in Germany happens through a “blue letter” and in the French military it happens through a “yellow paper.”

Like I was saying…there is way too much pink in my life today. Nope…we aren`t talking of Pink Floyd too. I wouldn`t want to be caught dead listening to Pink Floyd…simply because the band`s first name is ‘Pink` and I am as manly as men come. They might have sold 250 million albums worldwide…but that doesn`t count as long as your first name is ‘Pink`.

By saying that my world has become pink, I am not hinting at the phrase “In the pink,” which when literally translated means excellent condition. I am no second hand diesel Ambassador up for sale that can be ‘In the pink`. Just in case you didn`t know, ‘In the pink` came in vogue during the reign of British queen Elizabeth I, whose favourite flowers were “Dianthus”. Since Dianthus flowers were pink in color they were also known as Pinks. Since then anything that was ‘excellent` was attributed the word Pink.

During the reign of British queen Elizabeth I, it wasn`t unusual to hear statements like:

  • “Ohh that`s a pink Dictator!”
  • “Gosh, that`s a totally pink cannon you going to let lose on the enemy.”
  • “Wish I had such a pink set of pink stockings!”
  • “Will you marry me? I will make your world pink!”

    Anyway, that`s a lot of beating about the pink bush. Let me come to the point. Ever since my daughter Rhea has grown up and started having a taste – she is turning two this March 29, and God a woman develops tastes early – my world has turned upside down. All the blacks, browns & greens have been eclipsed by pink. Now, the only thing black in my house is ….hmm…well…how do I say this…hmm…myself. Just when I was getting comfortable being black my World is turning pink.

    It isn`t easy being called a Nigerian in school (because this South Indian ended up studying amongst fair North Indians) and kids walking up to you saying, “hey can you help me collect my 15 million US Dollars from the daughter of a Nigerian Dictator I have come to know online?” (Don’t know what fraud we are talking about here? Click Here to learn more)

    In the last 32 years, I have grown to like black. In fact, from the day I came to know that Snoop Dogg was a black too….I have started loving myself. Now my daughter is turning it upside down….she is going all out for the Pink. See how my drawing room looks …



    More cute pictures of Rhea

    Help me handle it better. I agree I cry while watching movies – for example, in the movie Hum Dil De Chuke Sanam…I cried when Aishwarya Rai decided to stay with Ajay Devgan, in Sholay I cried when Sanjeev Kumar couldn`t lift the rifle from the ground, and in Rock On, I cried when Arjun Rampal runs back from the airport and joins his band on the stage ….but does this mean I love pink?!

    If I don’t sort this out, very soon I might end up with a house full of items like these:

    My favourite color is Red and I love White too. But ask me to mix them…no sir, I won`t. I don`t mix my colors!

    Other Funny reads where I mentioned “Pink”

    Another humor writer launches a book
    When the Rajasthan Govt gifted me a camel
    Taking revenge, the Jammy way
    Encounters of the third kind
    Every photograph has a story to tell

  • My wife has started complaining. Again.

    It was early 2005 and each day I was discovering something new about my newly wedded wife. We had married each other on 8 September, 2004…or was it 10 September, 2004? Now that I have posted this, I will soon find out from the horse`s mouth.

    Wife handling can be difficult
    A few days before I got married in Anna Poorneshwari temple in Cherrukunnu, Kannur under the watchful eyes of my father in law…many came up to me with their advices. (Read about the marriage here) Here are some of the advices I got.

    Advice 1: Being a Tamilian, how can you marry a Malayali? Don`t you know of the famous Tamil proverb…. “kolay ali yeh nambu nalum malayali yeh nambakudadu”…which when translated to English means, “One can trust a murderer but never trust a Malayali.”

    Advice 2: Don`t get married. I know a few places we can visit. Thankfully when I expressed my displeasure by questioning what kind of places he meant, the colleague ended up saying: “Pubs, Beaches, Malls…etc”

    Advice 3: If it is such a big issue, why don`t you get a washing machine? Or a maid?

    Advice 4: Why shouldn`t you age gracefully?

    Advice 5: Don`t get married. It is all rosy till you keep meeting for only 2-3 hours a day. Once you get married you will start discovering things about Rekha you didn`t know. Things she has successfully hidden from you all this while. Get a good pet instead.

    Advisor 5 was very right. I started discovering new things about Rekha. Things she had managed to successfully hide from me. In fact, on the day of our marriage I came to know that she loved vegetables more than she loved me. Even as I walked into the honeymoon suite, she blurted out: “Rajan, will you show me the nearest vegetable vendor here.” I was a bit disappointed but didn`t say much. The next day I wrote a blog post: How I bought vegetables for a heavy price.

    A few nights sleeping with my wife (that`s legal I hope!) I realized that there is no space called MY PRIVATE SPACE in marriage. Rekha is the ‘Rolling Stone` type of sleeper. As in, she rolls on the bed and pushes the other occupants down. The double bed that was all my own suddenly wasn`t mine. To tell you the truth, on our first night itself I was pushed down from the bed and it was embarrassing to walk out of the bedroom next day with an injured forehead and blue eye. Especially because 19 relatives of ours were staring at the door, when I opened it and walked out sheepishly. That`s when I wrote a post titled: I hate to sleep with my wife.

    After a few more days, I came to know that my new wife doesn`t know to cook and thus doesn`t like visiting the kitchen. This became another blog post titled Kitchen…. place to rule.

    With time I realized that unlike me Rekha liked to be outside of home, so my transportation costs were bound to go up. Since she loved to travel, many a times she wouldn`t be home and when she wasn`t home I was to ensure her wish list got implemented (Read about her wish list here). We had never discussed this before marriage.

    If you are married, you have probably realized that women can be dangerous when they want to be. Rekha gets dangerous and exploitative during dinner time…and that`s when her most outlandish requests like “Shall we drive down to Jaipur?” “Shall we buy a dressing table tomorrow?” “Shall we go to watch Hero No. 1?” surface. Around this time I tried to warn other men by writing a post titled: Watch out for dinner time.

    A month after marriage I noticed that my towels weren`t to be found where I left them. When I raised the issue with Rekha, it backfired and I was accused of being next to Satan – cleanliness being next only to God. From my washroom habits, to eating habits to wardrobe management…everything underwent a dramatic change. That`s when an exasperated me wrote a blog post titled: Cleanliness, my foot!

    Let me warn you, some of the things you will discover in your wife will be apparent. But some, you will have to figure out. Like how I used all my Sherlock Holmes genes to find out that my wife was spying on me. In the first six months she would call me four times daily to check what I was doing. Like the gullible males that we all are, I thought it was her love for me till the time I found out she was keeping a tab on her handsome husband. As if girls were registering online & then lining up for a kiss from me. That`s when I wrote Check-mate over the phone.

    Over the next two years this blog saw many posts on her – some good and some bad…but all posted under Category Wife & Category My Family & In-Laws.

    In the last two years, Rekha related posts have dried down. Perhaps because a new focus area has entered my life – my daughter Rhea. Or perhaps, I have discovered everything I have had to discover about Rekha….and now our personalities fit each other like a jigsaw-puzzle.

    So why are we talking about this now? Because only one hour back my wife complained that I had stopped writing about her on Ouchmytoe. What do I do now? Do I start writing about Rekha all over again? Need your advice. This time, I promise I will stick to the advice I get.

    Other Funny Reads

    Flirt with controversy but never marry her
    Now Rekha and I fight for different reasons
    Rekha is no longer my better half!
    Mother in law vs daughter in law
    Home alone for Jammy

    Saga of the Little Finger

    What Mel Brooks once said is so true. A few decades back he had said that slightest of an issue with us is a tragedy and the biggest of issues with others is comedy (read exact quote below).

    I remember going to a funeral of a diabetic patient and chuckling, thinking the possible newspaper headlines the next day: “So-and-so died a sweet death”, “So-and-so killed by sweet poison”. If the person had been run over by a car, I remember the headline being, “Car that runs on Diesel, sometimes runs on so-and-so”.

    I also saw comedy when I was sitting in the hospital watching thro` an open door….a TB afflicted husband in bed and his wife asking the doctor, “When can we take him home?” I heard the question as “How contagious is his TB – will we be safe if we take him home now?”

    Mind you, I have been cursed with the same ability to see humor when my own are in trouble. My father was diagnosed with cancer in mid-2005 and while attending to him also I saw the same humor in hospital. Here are some of the articles that were written while waiting for the first rays of the sun to hit through the hospital`s dull-gray window: Nurses…, Two things that are never bought at the same time, My visit to the hospital, and Diseases – the evolution.

    *My dad is no more. And I miss him – especially in my victories and defeats. Victories have been more after his departure…perhaps because he is closer to me now than ever.

    Unfortunately, yesterday God decided to make me the center of the tragedy. It is funny no more. I am not seeing any humor.

    Being the wicket-keeper of ibibo`s cricket team of 15 odd hard-boiled cricketers is tough. Even tougher is ensuring all the balls missed by the batsmen are caught behind the stumps on a cold winter morning. On one such attempt, I sprained the little finger of my right hand, which is now the size of a beer bottle. Only…it doesn`t give me the kick.

    The last 24 hours have been miserable. We had a few guests visiting us yesterday …which included two five year olds….and I couldn`t pull off the ‘Pull My Finger` joke on them. In case you don`t know what ‘Pull My Finger` joke is all about…well…you ask a kid not more than 6-7 years old to pull your finger and the moment he/she pulls it you let out a fart. You should watch the kid laugh, to believe the joke`s effectiveness.

    I did try to gather courage and pull off the joke on one of the five year olds…but the moment she pulled my little finger…I only let out a shriek.

    Even as I type, I am having difficulty breathing. Thanks to my swollen little finger, I haven`t been able to pick my nose for the last 24 hours….and you are aware…when the garbage man doesn`t come the bin is always full.

    God…is this your way of showing me the middle finger?

    Other Funny Reads

    # Shopping carts can be dangerous
    # Getting my hair cut under a tree
    # Entering a new house in Gurgaon
    # Mother in law vs daughter in law

    My first suit and why I feel guilty

    After managing 33 years of my life without a suit, I finally bought one a few days back. Yes! I am now a proud owner of a Giovanni suit. For you lesser mortals who have never heard of Giovanni…well, it`s an entry level suit brand that`s sold in Lifestyles and Shopper Stops of the World.

    Before we get into how I was forced into buying a suit, let us go through a bit of history.

    Anthropologists believe that the need for clothes didn`t arise immediately after Adam & Eve plucked the forbidden apple and brought forth a new emotion called ‘shyness` but happened only 100,000 years ago when being ‘shy` started becoming fashionable. Clothing has come a long way and now being ‘Not Shy` is fashionable. More on that later, though.

    As can be guessed, the first clothes were made from natural elements – animal skin, grasses, leaves, and bones. If you lived near a source of water, you also had clothes made of shells. Since, Eva Mendes hadn`t yet posed in PETA`s anti-fur campaign one can safely assume that back then people were wearing clothes made of fur too.

    When my parents entered this World sometime in late 1940s and early 1950s, cotton & Rayon were the World`s favourite clothing materials. All the Nylon produced was being used up in making parachutes which dropped airmen over enemy lines.

    My maternal grandfather who was a Head Constable in the Police Department during the British Era would visit the only garment shop in the town, once a year, and buy meters of a colorful, flowery cloth. He would then take his whole family – six sons and one daughter – to the nearby tailor who sat under a tree to give measurements. Thus, for a whole year after this purchase my grand father`s family would be draped in a colorful, flowery material.

    I laughed, when I first heard this story. But it had its benefits…his children never got lost in town fairs. Once my mother did get lost…but within minutes the family was re-united. The gentleman who re-united the family is known to have said: “I have to be blind to miss a family of nine, all draped in clothes with red flowers on yellow background.”

    My paternal grandfather didn`t believe in clothes. His son (that`s my father) would only get to wear the Khaki shorts that the Government School in Paramakudi, a municipality in Ramanathapuram district in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, required him to wear. If you are old enough, you probably remember that in those days shorts didn`t have buttons or zippers. My father had to keep re-tying the lace that the front of his shorts had. I remember him saying: “The only saving grace was that, we didn`t have to bend over…as you do while tying your shoe lace.”

    With only one Khaki shorts to wear for a year, they wore off pretty soon. So much so, my father earned the nickname ‘Knife bottoms` for managing to wear off the rear side of his shorts by the sixth month.

    Having spent a year with just one Khaki shorts, my father didn`t want me to endure the same pain. So I started getting two shorts to wear for a year – one on my birthday and another for Diwali. Unfortunately, Diwali and my birthday (26th of April) are separated by six months and I never had two new shorts at any point in my life.

    Having a lot of cousins and short-framed uncles can be a huge boon. Before I was 18, a lot of seconds started coming my way. These were rich cousins and working uncles so the trousers & shirts were good. My first jean of sorts…was a stone wash trouser with ‘Love is Sweet Poison` written on the trouser`s right leg…top to bottom. One of my uncles had bought that after his girl friend had ditched him…and I, who hadn`t even fallen in love, was forced to covey the message to the World.

    As years passed, clothes ceased to be a problem. There were plenty of them…and I could afford to buy one pair every month. But I didn`t. The guilt was too much for me to handle – after all, life had continued even with one torn-at-the-behind khaki shorts.

    A few days back my CEO said I had to attend a sales call the very next day. Corporate etiquettes dictated that I wear a suit or at the very least a blazer on the occasion. Unfortunately the time was short and I had to make do with the best formal attire I could manage – a sky blue shirt and navy blue trouser. Of the nine people in the meeting, I was the only one that didn`t ‘suit` the occasion. I bought my first Giovanni suit the next day.

    “Rekha, I don`t feel comfortable spending Rs 7000/- on one pair,” I told my wife.

    “You need to change with the times. You can`t stick to torn khaki shorts all your life. Clothes make half the man, remember?” My wife replied.

    “What do you mean? Are you insulting me?” I retorted.

    “No no…at 165 cms height you were half a man…and with the suit on…you make a full man.” She responded.

    P.S: No wonder I couldn`t buy a Raymond suit…after all, it is for the complete man!

    Other Funny Reads

    # Today is my 33rd happy birthday
    # Flashback: My days in London
    # When I became a cockroach
    # Getting my hair cut under a tree