Sangili Bungili Open the Door

Hi guys! Wish you all a Happy New year. With New year comes the question of constantly reinventing oneself and I decided to experiment by  collaborating on a fictional story with Prason - Humor blogger and CFO of the soora mokkai blog - Chronicwriter . You can check out the blog Here , it is a damn chill blog actually and you can thank me later for introducing this kind of awesomeness in your life. So what Prason and I have done is essentially snowball a story from scratch. He writes a line and then I write one spontaneously making it all up and having tonnes of fun in the process. Hope you have as much fun reading it as we had making it.

Disclaimer - The post contains liberal doses of tanglish.

Prason

Prashanth was frantically searching for his laptop.

It was right here inside my backpack.  And now it's not. The backpack zip is open and my favourite key-chain that was fixed with the zip is missing .

My hands instinctively reached for my Jean zip and I was relieved to know that they were all in the right place.

Someone had definitely stolen my lap top. It definitely cannot be my mom. She already has a mac.

My backpack was under the bed; and hence it cannot be the maid too because she does not even clean anything under the bed.

It cannot be my girlfriend because well I don't have one and it cannot be my boyfriend too because I am not gay.

Yen ipdi mokka potu saavadikiraenaa, technically and basically I'm an IT guy and this is all I have in my life. As I am an IT guy, I do have a photography page and all my pictures are in my laptop. And oh my yesunadha! I just realized there are damning pictures of me trying out my nandu brand lungis

Well, I am kidding; there’s more than just my nandu brand mishaps. There is a floor plan of my office which I am going to rob day after tomorrow.

There are three other people in my team and I hate one of them. It cannot be Surya because he only recruited me. Or could this be his masterplan all along? It could be because we both like the same girl – “Smitha” from our team. Trust me when I say Smitha is worth sending someone to jail. Her eyes! They make my heart beat so fast that if I let it out, it can out run Ussain Bolt and create a new world record in the 100 metre dash.

Her voice makes chinna kuyil chitra sound like kovai Sarala. So I never tell her to sing. I never tell her anything actually. But I do talk a lot with Pooja, the other girl in our team. Surya hated it when ever I talked with Pooja or Smitha.

Why did I agree to the stupid robbery plan? I thought it was a stupid joke of course till it was not and by then I had already revealed too much to Pooja. I think she hated me because I liked Smitha and maybe she was the one who flicked the laptop?

My thoughts are jumping so wildly today. I shouldn't have probably had all the free filter kaapi shots. I guess Surya drugged me with those kaapi; he was too friendly with me. I am sure Pooja and Surya are together on this.

I try to call them with my phone. Alas! My phone is also missing. I had last seen it in my back pocket. What the fruit is happening guys?

All I have is this one Rupee coin. I have no other option but to invest this coin and become a millionaire. And for that I need to leave this damned room. And this is when I realize that the door is locked. Not the sharpest day for the 10th topper today.

Well I gotta pee now. My bladder is full and time is ticking too. I have used all my karate and yoga skills to control this tsunami attack. But aathratha adakkalaam. But moothratha kandippa control panna mudiyaadhu. Let me unload eshwaraaa! I wake up in a pool of sweat from my bed and I look under the bed immediately. I can see my laptop peeping through the backpack.

Prason's version of the same story is up on his blog. Do check it out!

Yes , I can!

Guys guys! So I was trolling for guest posts and the great Arvind Passey agreed. He is a great writer I admire . Please check out his website here -->  click

Even a burglar says this. So do politicians. Scamsters. Smugglers. Thieves. Rapists. And yet these three words are linked not with them but with an indomitable will. They represent the power of positive assertiveness. ‘Yes, I can’ is not a mantra to be chanted and yet they need a person’s mind to believe in the magical message of affirmation that they carry in their alphabets.

But wait, this isn’t the text for a motivation workshop because I intend to explore the relationship of these three words with everything that society always wants to despise, shun, and rebuke. So here we take a U-turn and go back to where the corrupt, the scum, and the dregs of society wait.

Spare a moment to enter the mind of a plagiarist on the social media and listen to him exult as he looks at a picture or a text and thinks: ‘Yes, I can. I can pick this up and pretend it is mine and then the world will think I am a winner!’ He is convinced that his act is not one of wrong-doing but of a gain that his mind perceives. Even a Natwarlal is completely enshrouded in the belief that what he is about to do is for a perceived gain and not necessarily aimed at harming or hurting someone. And so he mutters ‘Yes, I can’ and goes ahead and commits his crime. Or what we think is a crime.

I am no psychologist but something tells me that these three words aren’t really bothered about who they are hobnobbing with. It is in their company that all the good and all the bad always happen though they themselves never do a thing. A babu favours a company that offers bribe because he thinks he can. A politician threatens, bribes, or convinces to make teachers give up their jeans because he thinks he can. A TV anchor shouts down every voice of sanity because he thinks he can. A manager in an office fudges sales figures assuming that the loss could be compensated in the coming month and murmurs ‘Yes, I can’. So these three words and the mind are the two main characters that come together to enact all sorts of dramas – some get hailed as positive and constructive and others get labelled as malicious and damaging. Mortals are simply a face that these two protagonists successfully project every time. The face gets to be either the hero or the villain and must be wondering at the sheer unreasonableness of everything. But no one listens.

The most complex part in this relationship between ‘Yes, I can’ and the human mind is the sheer randomness of outcome. Look at the number of criminals who convert into model citizen and admit that the miracle happened because they were convinced that they could. Valmiki did it, didn’t he? On the other side are perfectly fine people who decide to kill, elope, have extra-marital affairs, or become paedophiles all because they think they can. So these three words are no guarantee of what to really expect. The other day I heard a PR executive tell a blogger, ‘I’ll send you the press release. Please copy the entire text and upload as a post. I need to send in details by evening. Hope you can do it.’ And the blogger replied, ‘Yes, I can!’

‘Yes, I can’ is the real stealth bomber, if you allow me this analogy… and when it gangs up with the mind, you can expect anything to happen. They could come together and create the most sublime smooch, hug, and kiss or the deadliest explosion that you can think of.

Fairy Tales turned Nightmares

A guest post by the supremely talented Tanushree Nigam. Do check out her blog here. 

The world where Jasmine is forced to migrate as Aladdin has been bombed to shreds by Alibaba and his forty thieves.

The world where Hamlin lies in ruins because Snow White and Cinderella’s evil step mothers have been directing drones at innocent Pied piper’s, who are now swaying little children away by the sweeter-than-drones music of Jihad,

whilst Snow White and Cinderella are busy posting pouting selfies on Insta.

The world where the seven dwarves moved to the city because their forest has been long turned to fuel the factories which they now are employed in, factories run by Sauron, Dark Lord of Mordor.

The world where Rapunzel never fails to put on her red riding hood to cover her luscious locks, lest radical wolves devour her because she was ‘asking- for-it’.

The world where Beauty married the Beast disguised as a Prince, and continues in the abusive relationship to save her Sleeping Beautiful Aurora afflicted with sleep disorders due to substance addiction.

The world with a Narnia with witches rampant, lions extinct and the wardrobe under the stairs where the boy who barely lives, grew up too soon to believe in magic after the war took away both his parents.

The world where apples are poisonous, Hansel and Gretel are sodomized and murdered by cannibalistic humans not witches, where ducklings are objectified and called ugly on the basis of colour and the little mermaid perished in an oil spill.

The world with fairy tales turned nightmares.

8

Hi readers! Thanks for sticking around even when I don't write for months. I was having a writer's block of sorts and generally a rough phase in my life. The poem I'm publishing below is a very personal one and took a great deal of bravery from my side to be even posted. Many friends dissuaded me from sharing this particular chapter of my life. I have written on what it is like, to feel like a failure even when you know that you aren't one. It might seem like a small problem to most of you but I assure you that it has taken its toll on my life. However , I've recovered enough to talk about it now and share it with others , for I know that I'm not alone and want others to not feel alone too. This post does not intend to be negative , it just captures one of the darker phases of my life. There is always light at the end of the tunnel , I just chose to project the darkness this time. Thank you. 

People who get 98 start behaving like a 98

The poor ones who get an 8

Can’t help but feel like one.

Especially when you shower them with

Your 98 tonnes of optimism

It is not you , it is not them

It is the 8

Not the end of the world

But an 8.

Supposedly a learning curve

But unfortunately

Mostly a slippery slope

A direct downward spiral

Into the invisible abyss

Of mass mediocrity .

Which they have been trying to avoid ,

Even when they were at their

Personal Everest of fame.

What can you really do?

When your personal brilliance

Gets scraped off your skin

With the harsh gravel

That is your education system.

Don’t worry about your results.

Just give your best every time

Even if you fail almost every time

For faults that you never made.

Don’t worry , Don’t feel , Don’t care

Just play fruit ninja

And believe that it is not your fault

That you failed.

Keep playing fruit ninja ,

Knowing you did nothing to deserve that 8 .

Keep playing till you break all levels

Till you start doubting the veracity of your claims

Till you start doubting the obvious.

You know you did nothing wrong.

But where is the proof?

Who feels like shit?

Not that you know how shit really feels like

But you get the gist.

Who feels depressed all the time ,

Not able to cope with a seemingly

Erroneous failure ,

You or university or god?

Till the day of hopefully inevitable rectification

Who has to squirm every time they hear an 8?

The number you once loved

Because it was so easy to draw

Till you found out 2 O’s wasn’t the way anyways.

The number which you mastered

To apply for license .

The number you cannot help but hate irrationally.

Now.

If what happened was so irrational

As everyone makes it out to be,

Why can’t we have our own irrational outburst to it?

Functioning after a failure is tough

Even for the best of us.

It is like learning to walk

With broken legs

Which aren’t set properly.

Extending the stick called sensitivity

Is more than welcome.

It might be not as grave as it sounds

But it certainly feels that way.

Outpouring of grief on virtual paper

Might never solve anything ,

But what else can one do really?

No one can control anything.

Except the person who gives me

Marks it seems. 

Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash 

Caste Discrimination for dummies

its pussy's post! x)

Hello there readers! Firstly a huge thank you for making this kutty blog reach 10000 views! =) Never would have been possible without your support xD As promised our very own Rhea also known as pussy and always surrounded by them has finally graced us with a post of hers. The 'post' is actually a rip off from her sociology project, which unlike the usual ones makes sense! Read it , laugh / swear and do whatever you want but don't forget that this is  for fun and fun only.  Before I buzz of - pussy is such a stud muffin that she actually submitted this!! :O 

Human beings have for centuries been on the lookout for bigger and better ways to discriminate their counterparts.Among the more popular forms of discrimination, like racial discrimination (eg."Come hea' ya filthy nigger") , gender discrimination ( eg. "Go make me a sandwich woman") and religious discrimination (Eg. "He's just a money - grabbin' Jew"), lies a form of discrimination known as 'caste discrimination' , which is unique only to the Indian sub continent. Yes , adding to the long list of superlatives in India's pocket , (including most number of malnourished children , some of the worst roads and the most number of homeless people ) , is a particularly vicious form of discrimination known as caste discrimination.

If you haven't heard of caste discrimination , well you're probably one of the NRI's who stock up on toilet paper when making their token visit to India. In this project , we shall go through the whole process of caste discrimination, in so much detail,  that this report would be more aptly titled,  were it called 'caste discrimination for dummies '.
What does caste discrimination comes from?
Caste discrimination originally wasn't discrimination at all levels.  If you travelled back in time (although I don't know why you would want to,since they did not have running water back then), you would find a society in which every member belonged to one of four occupations - unless they were a dead beat person, who lived off his familys earnings. These four occupations were a) brahmana b) kshatriya c)vaishya d) shudra
Although people weren't discriminated according to which occupation they belonged to,  there was a definite hierarchy to this. Brahmanas were highest regarded people. These lucky people did all the praying and chanting and assumed the role of  messengers of god. Now since the olden day people were not stupid (they did not have twilight back then to deaden their brain cells) , they knew that no one messes with the gods. So, they awarded the brahmanas with the highest status in order to appease the realm of supernatural.
Next in line , were the kshatriyas. In the event that the gods were unable to keep the ancient societies free from invaders, they appointed the kshatriyas. The kshatriyas were stud muffins who put on their suits of armour and rode their horses to conquer the world. Being all macho and putting their life on the line, these daredevils got the admiration of all the jasmine scented ladies. But they felt this wasn't enough. The kshatriyas couldn't be sidelined either, for they had pretty sharp swords. So to keep their bodies puncture free, the people awarded them the second highest status.

The vaishyas were the merchants. As any materialistic person knows ,  god and peace are not enough to lead a happy life. Even Pontius Pilate would probably not have subjected jesus to crucification if he was shown a million dollars ( and was declared australia's next master chef ) The people were nervous that their merchants would protest against not being given a definite status and go on strike.Whatever  would they do without any money to buy the world's finest dhotis and chilli powder? To avoid this the grim prospect of an ancient society recession,  the vaishyas were bestowed with the third highest status.
At the bottom of the hierarchy were the shudras. The term 'errand boy ' is more appropriate. If there was a slipper to fix or a leaky roof to be sealed ,  there would be a shudra ,  with his handy tool belt. The shudras also dabbled in agriculture. But in their backyards ,  they were hard at work, creating the deathly hallows.
SEEMS LIKE DISCRIMINATION TO ME 
well it isn't, okay. Discrimination would entail rigidity, common practices and the occasional finger pointing. Back in the day however,  none of these characteristics came into play.  For instance,  if a boy was tired of his kshatriya family's murderous and violent ways of,  he could snap his fingers and ta-dah!  he could become a holier than thou brahmana.
So when did this change?
Roughly around the post vedic period,  the elders decided to become mean old gasbags.With their mood swing ,  came a whole host of reforms to the system.  They decided they would no longer tolerate indecisive people jumping like pogo sticks from one caste to another. Caste systems became more rigid than snooki's hair and there were more rules in the caste system than there are in jail.
Meat was snatched away from the brahmana's hungry mouths and was replaced with less satisfying vegetables.
If a shudra fell in love with a nubile vaishya girl , well that was too bad,  because now only marriages within the castes were allowed . From then on ,  if a child was born in a brahmana family,  he was destined to become a brahmana ,  irrespective of whether he wished to fight ,  bargain or plough.
By 
Rhea 'Jane'