27 December, 2011

Excuse me "sir" !?!?!?!

First and foremost, you Punjabis with your fun-filled weddings should be banned. Just because you have an open bar with a Johnnie Walker Black Label, awesome kebabs, women dressed in their finest and music that makes me want to dance after a few pegs are down, does not…I mean DOES NOT give you an excuse to start  the sangeeth over an hour late. Nuh-uh! Look at us fabulous tams starting all our weddings on time and everything running like a Swiss clock. That’s why we’re so awesome at accounts and process improvement. Shame on you people for calling us at 8 and starting at 9:30…che che! Don’t for one minute think I will excuse such behavior just because I had fun at the wedding! There are long term repercussions for having fun in such a manner….it’s a major health hazard! Just as I was settling into a ‘Pearl Jam ‘sort of groove, you make me revert to Hindi dance music. Do you know what I was doing this morning? Grooving to ‘Katiya Karun’….I hate that song.  Karma….don’t know how long it would take me to recover.

To set the context to the previous outburst, the family and I were invited to the sangeeth of the daughter of one of my dad’s old colleagues from one of the big companies my dad had worked for. Dad and this guy started their careers out together in that place. The gentleman and his wife have seen me as a 6-month old baby. So they are all quite close. There were a ton of people from the company there who worked with dad, senior and junior managers, many of whom had welcomed my mum to the office community when she got married to dad, many of whom had seen me as a 6 month old baby, and even as a 1 year old wrecking havoc by peeing on their carpet.

The evening was off to a late start, but picked up. Slowly but surely enough the women dressed in their best started trickling in and the bar was open. So yaaay….drunk Punjabi chicks! Late Christmas gift I guess. In either case, not like yours truly has the guts to walk up to one of them and say hello, but I was expected to be on my best behavior because you never know when one of these uncles would ask for my resume and probably help out with a job interview. A lot of the ladies, and girls who were in their teens when I was just born took full advantage to scream,” Oh my goooooooood…..little Nikkkiiiiiii baby has grown up….shoooo cute!” and proceed to pinch my cheeks. I did not have much of a choice but to grit my teeth and seem happy at this public display of embarrassment. Didn’t they know that the good looking Punjabi girls were checking out the hot eligible tam Bram dude? Not helping ladies….not helping!

At some point, after I’ve had a good amount of Johnnie Walker and kebabs, I decide to break away from the uncle-aunty group and check out all the infectious dancing. No sangeeth is complete without a bunch of turban-wearing sardars dancing to ‘Why this kolaveri Di? I’m standing near the stage, with a whiskey in my hand trying very hard to pull off a Don Draper sort of look where you enjoy your whiskey and have a certain ‘Devil may care’ attitude to everything around you.  To my right, are three very good looking girls are dancing to the music. They must be a year or so younger to me. The cutest one among those, pink dress, takes two steps towards me. Needless to say, I’m thinking “Don Draper is my new God….I need to buy more suits!” Girl pulls out a camera, taps me on the shoulder. Playing it cool, I sip my whiskey slowly and turn around and look….and then it happens. Girl says, “Excuse me Sir, could you take a photo of me and my friends?”
‘Sir’…did she just effing call me ‘Sir’???? What the effing hell is wrong? Do I look like a ‘sir’ to you woman? Agreed that life has given me some grey hair before my time, and I do look like the bouncer of a club, or Kim Kardashian’s Chihuahua’s body-guard…but at no point am I a ‘Sir’? What the hell? Do I look like a prissy English Knight called Sir Nigel Bernard Appleby or something to you? Holy lord….you won’t believe how my ‘Don Draper’ moment just crumbled like the Walls of Jericho.

A woman my age just called me ‘Sir’. And it wasn’t a ‘Sir Mick Jagger’ sort of ‘Sir’….’Sir’ it seems. Bloody effing hell. Tell me dear reader….do I come across to you as a ‘Sir’ type of person? I’m very tempted to post a ‘Jaa Chudail’ link on Youtube right now, but since I’m a bloody ‘Sir’, I will honour my knighthood and behave more maturely. Now excuse me while I find a quiet corner in my office data center and cry. It’s good that almost everyone is on leave!

01 December, 2011

Revenge…dish served lukewarm!

I wanted to write about how corporations assume that just because you hold an MBA degree from a somewhat prestigious b-school, you’re expected to increase revenues by 25 % overnight and without any actual exposure to the field, become the next Steve Jobs in terms of identifying that ‘the iPod’ is the way forward….and all this while you’re expected to be nice to people too.

But then, I’ll leave this ranting for a time when I am more ticked-off by certain people and Twitter sends me a ‘You cannot tweet about that’ error message. So let’s get back to the favourite topic and why you 28 lovely people keep coming back to my blog…. Yes, we are going to discuss the impact of FDI on the retail sector in India. I sincerely believe that FDI would…. Aaah, screw it. Let’s talk marriage. For once, not mine.

You all remember “the” awesome wedding I went for almost a year ago in Meerut….you know, the one where I got totally drunk and….well, I don’t remember anything after that. The one where one of my best friends married his school sweet-heart of forever, and we all had this awesome baarat, and I danced, while being sober, and I still have not quite recovered from the bollywood music….that one! Anyway, ever since he got married, my friend has been sowing the seeds of bride-hunting in the heads of all the parents of all the guys who are still unmarried, which is basically all of us in the peer-group. Some parents (like mine) are very clear that their sons have neither the looks, the career prospects, the financial backing to woo any woman through the arranged marriage path. All the other friends(judas’) have very smartly told their parents that they will consider marriage provided the very smart and humorous author (who is very cute like a giant Winnie the Pooh when he wears his Manchester United jersey) of this blog gets married. Each time my married friend comes home, he tries his best to ruin the fabulous relationship I have with my…erm…guitars by suggesting to the parental unit that I get married.

This was getting quite annoying. I found myself in a ‘How do you solve a problem like Maria?’ sort of mood.

And then life threw me one of these gorgeous opportunities to get back at Mr.I-like-to-see-my-friends-married. So here goes, friend, his wife and I went jewelry shopping. (Yes, I went bling bling shopping… I am making the sincere effort to grow up).The shopping was for another friend who was getting married and we decided to buy her and the hubby some bling from Swarovski.  While we had more or less found what we were going to buy, friend’s wife was busy admiring some rings (Dei, not the ‘Lord of the Rings’ ring….but she did have that Gollum ‘My preeeeccccious’ look on her face). Brain-frickin-wave!

So here I go and say,” Dude! You’ve not got her anything since you’ve come back from abroad. You ought to get her one of these. One for the new job….you know, from your first paycheck with the new place. And then, there is always new year….it is your first new year after the wedding right? And then in a few more months you’ve got the first wedding anniversary coming up. So you’ve really got to celebrate all of these moments. They come once in a life time….and considering you guys have known each other forever, I am sure you’d love to see a smile on her face when you buy her one or two of these lovely rings.”

My friend’s face turned so frickin white, it was almost like one of those Tide soap detergent ads. Whooosh! My friend, normally the talker had nothing to say. Jaw dropped and speechless. Revenge, ladies and gentlemen was suhweeeeet! To top it all, friend’s wife says, “You don’t have to buy only rings you know….you can buy a necklace, and maybe earrings later on”. If I weren’t in a store surrounded by glass worth more than me, my life insurance and the total selling price of all organs I can donate put together, I would have jumped for joy. I just discovered kryptonite to take down married men. High five single dudes….high five! You may use this! Use it against those who falsely believe that we may be happier men after we’re married! Spread it to the far places of the world! Tell them that one man found a way, to keep our way of life. Tell them , that they may talk to our parents, they may register us with marriage websites, but they will never take…our freeeedooooooom!

(Sorry….got carried away there….Willaim Wallace, Braveheart and all that)

When his missuss had gone to the powder room, friend turns to me and goes, “Dude! What are you doing?” Me, “Maybe next time you’ll stop haranguing the parents of my boys with regard to marriage.” Friend, “Dude, I’m not causing you financial harm…. Why are you doing this to me?”.