These f****** tourists!

I bounded up the stairs of the subway, checking the time for the tenth time since I left home. I got out, eyes darting around as I frantically tried to figure out in which direction I had to go. My internal satellite navigation configured, I set about my destination, walking as fast as I could. I was headed to Times Square for a movie and I was already late. The famous crossroads-of-the-world drew near. People in "I <3 NY" t-shirts milled about: families, couples, friends, backpackers. Some took I-was-there pictures, some gazed at the electronic billboards, some just soaked in the atmosphere. They had all the time in the world. Which was a problem for me as I tried to forge a path through an ever shifting maze of people. I checked the time again, the movie had already started. And I thought to myself: "These fucking tourists ....".

The V8 bird

The rumble sounds ominous. It is raw. It is powerful. It sounds like pent up rage. Its telling you in no uncertain terms not mess with it. You gingerly feather the pedal. You just made it even angrier.

My World Cup

Why are all Indians crazy about cricket? The country probably has more permutations and combinations of the human gene pool than anyone could possibly care. As a rule, we do not agree with each other, with emotions sometimes bordering on hatred. In India, when you go from one state to another, its not the accent which changes. Its the language which does. Sometimes you do not even need to go to a different state to experience total linguistic handicap. The country is also divided on the lines of race, caste, religion etc. They say India is a unity in diversity. And I beg to disagree, to put it mildly.

Bird's eye view of Indian television

The idiot box. Indian television show makers seem to have taken this term far too literally.The TV scene in India is littered with shows which are an insult to the intelligence of the viewer. The best example of this is of course the soaps. Ekta Kapoor and her ilk have "revolutionized" Indian TV with shows which portray dysfunctional Indian families. The ideal setting is a joint family living in a palatial mansion. Every member of the family is perpetually dressed in festive finery and wears make up even while sleeping. The more members in the family the better. The "plot" usually centers around Ms. Perfect-Bharatiya-Naari. She is the epitome of Indian womanhood and the goddess of virtue and sacrifice. She does everything for the happiness and well being of her family and will go to any lengths to safeguard her family's honour. Then there is Ms. Evil-Scheming-Vamp. Usually clad in a see-through saari and high heels, she devotes all her time and energy towards making Ms. Perfect-Bharatiya-Naari's life a living hell. Ms. Perfect always takes the high road an takes all insults and aspersions in her stride. In between people die (only to be reincarnated later on -- usually as bar dancers in the case of women), some never die (live on for five generations of the family), ominous omens appear(glass breaks, lamps are put out etc.), people cry (a LOT), miracles happen(you get the drift right?). All in a day's work for the average Indian household.

My first blog post

And hence I bloggeth. I finally own a slice of the blogosphere. And from the extremely cleverly phrased title you can make out that I have never blogged before. So what's the protocol for my first post? Am I supposed to become effusively sentimental and thank my best friend's uncle's dog? Or do I list out the magnificent feats I am going to accomplish thorough this little piece of digital property that I now own? Will my blog be shunned by one and all because I started blogging on an inauspicious Saturday? Oh dear.....