“My grandma`s little brownie ass,” said a friend trying to control his anger.
“What?” I expressed my shock as much with the way I uttered the word, as with my contorted facial expression.
My friend would later explain that in order to be regarded as a gentleman in the office he had stopped swearing. Whenever he couldn`t control his impulses, he would come up with funny yet meaningful phrases. Whenever he wanted to say “What the F$#@?” he would end up saying “My grandma`s little brownie ass.”
I have taken to the habit and regularly use the word “fudge.” Need I tell you my favourite swear word?
Sitting between eight lady colleagues (five of them unmarried) adds to the problem. Mind you I was given that place, I didn`t pick it. Interestingly, when I was allotted this place there were only two girls around me…but in the last one year the crowd has grown to eight. So much so, the guys in my office hate me and don`t invite me to the men-only parties….thinking I will share their secrets. Some Victoria`s Secrets, they must be.
My favorite swear sentence is: “I am going to kick the f*&^ing shit out of you, till you start blowing snot bubbles, you little piece of dog shit.”
Two of my Canadian friends – Jaron Rovensky and Justin Hughes – taught me the sentence in 1997. After they had helped me memorize the line, I had to practice the delivery in front of the mirror. I felt like Amitabh Bachchan practicing the Mere Paas Maa Hain line in the Hindi movie Deewar. The last time I used the line in public, Rekha had to take leave and stay with me in Malar Hospital in Chennai for a week.
While in college, “ass” used to be my favorite swear word. That is, till I used it on my phonetics professor. He was scolding me for scoring badly in phonetics (all those who failed that class turned out to be better writers) and I muttered “What an ass?!”
My professor was mighty upset. He wouldn`t let me go, till I had pronounced the word “ass” right three times in a row. He then went on to tell me that ass wasn`t the right word to be used in class…and gave me other synonyms I could use (backside, behind, seat, tail end, hind quarters, rear end, posterior etc).
My next brush with an anti-swear person was when I met Father Francis. He was an innocent man who believed in the ways of God. Once I was dropping Father Francis, who was clad in his whites, on my bike. Just before we reached the church…another biker splashed muddy water (I forgot to tell you, it had rained the previous day) over his whites. It was nice to see the calm exterior which the father displayed and said: “Go multiply!”
After the sermon was over, I asked the Father, “Why did you say ‘Go multiply`?
“My son, I can`t afford to use the words you use….so I have coined my own. I use ‘Go multiply` whenever I have to say ‘Go, F*$# yourself!”
While talking of swearing, how can I miss out on this old uncle of mine, who happens to be a true Gandhi fan. Inspired by the Mahatma, he had given up lies and swearing when he was only 10. While he went on to join politics and make it big…he never became a minister. The reason: He hated the swearing in ceremonies.
I swear these are good reads