Stupid Drunken Whores

If you guys think that girls are really dumb, you’re not wrong. Girls go out of their way to prove how mind-numbingly daft they can really be. Let me be clear here, if it wasn’t obvious from the title of this post, here’s a fair warning: This article contains a lot of offensive swear words, so if you’re someone who gets easily offended by such profanities, then fuck you, you can scroll down and read the post-script. As for the others, fuck you as well, but you can continue reading.

Underwear Overtures

Last year, girls on Facebook started to post various colours as their status messages. Everyone who weren’t in the loop were wondering what's up with that? Was it some big inside joke? When people asked, the girls would giggle “hehehe” and say that it’s not for you to know. OK, so I thought that it’s probably something intimate. Then I learnt it’s the colour of the bras that they were wearing at that moment. Ah, you naughty little tarts!

What do bras make make boys think of? BOOBIES! Who doesn’t love boobies? I love boobies. Every straight male loves boobies. Even gay ones probably love boobies too. How could you not like boobies? BOOBIES! Mmm… boobies.

Then I came to know that posting the colour of their bras was to to raise awareness of breast cancer. Where did I learn it from? Not from the girls on Facebook (because none of them was revealing it), but from news sites. OK, I can see the connection between bras and breasts, but then, how could mentioning bra colour have anything to do with raising awareness of breast cancer, when the word cancer was just being circulated in private messages, but never mentioned outright? Yeah, I was stumped too.

“Guess what I’m wearing inside? I’ll give you a hint: it’s not a disease.”

What would any horny male think when a girl mentions bra? Breasts, not breast cancer. And the clandestine way the girls mentioned it only made me think that they were being stupid as well as slutty.

Coming out as Sluts

Then after some months, girls started posting “where they like it” as their status updates. “I like it on the table. Heehee!” “I like it in the cupboard. Hoohoo!” “I like it in the loo. Poopoo!” What thought crossed my mind seeing this? That there was probably some liberation campaign going on where girls are openly coming out about their sexuality. They like to fuck, and they like to fuck at unconventional places. Good for them! If bitches like being slutty, and if they like to flaunt their sluttiness, by all means let them.

Then I learnt that by “where they like it” they meant “where they like to keep their handbags”. If the words “What the fuck?!” escaped your mouth, then that was exactly what my reaction was too. But prepare to put a heavy iron glove on your hand because you’ll need it when you hear the reason why girls were posting it on Facebook: it was to raise awareness about breast cancer. Yes, you can facepalm, really hard with that iron glove.

Again, I didn’t come to know of this from the girls themselves, or from their status messages. Like last time, I came to know about it from news sites. Quite a convoluted way to let people know that they were talking about breast cancer.

Once more, lets put it into perspective: how does a double entendre about handbags even remotely relate to breast cancer? I mean, really? Handbags and cancer? How could there be any correlation between these two?

Handbags on racks! Get it? Racks?

Two #FAILS in a span of some months, and could the bimbos raise any awareness? Hell no! They’d have probably forgotten about it themselves the very next day. Raising money is ruled out, because updating statuses and staying on Facebook don’t produce any money (actually, it does generate money, but only for Mark Zuckerberg).

Drunk Bitches

Recently, I noticed girls posting single worded status updates with the names of various alcoholic drinks. Since more than one girl was posting similar shit without giving any other reason, I was intrigued, but I had an inkling where this could possibly be leading to. So I ran a Google news search with the keywords “Facebook alcohol status”. My intuition was dead on.

I’d have thought two stupendous fiascos would have knocked some sense into these bitches, but I thought wrong. Corresponding to their current relationship status, girls were posting the name of a drink. If single, then tequila, if married, beer, etc. Why? Put on that iron glove once more. Again, it was to raise awareness of breast cancer. HOW THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN BEGIN TO MAKE ANY SENSE?

Like, a toast *HIC* for cancer! Cheers!

The message that was circulated among the girls came with the following advice:

DO NOT REDUCE THE FUN OF THIS GAME on your wall, explaining the meaning of your status to all those who are curious! Tell them in private and ask them not to write the information on FB or email! It’s more fun to learn by word of mouth and, thus, the mystery will be kept for longer!

Yeah, NOT talking about breast cancer is a little “fun game”, which would end if they actually mentioned it. Apparently, these dumb dolts all still agreed that openly talking about breast cancer could never raise enough awareness of it as much as them being secretive about it. Like talking in codes like an elite bunch of douchebags could do a lot of good. Because it’s “fun”.

But forget about the absurd antics. What would be the first obvious reaction of people who see girls posting names of alcoholic drinks? That maybe the girl is having the said drink. Or maybe she enjoys having the said drink. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I don’t have any problems with anyone having a few drinks responsibly.

But general knowledge and irony is lost on these stupid bitches, because alcohol is associated with an increased risk of a number of cancers. More specifically, alcohol consumption is linked as a risk factor for breast cancer in women. That’s the same like raising awareness about cruelty to animals by telling everyone what your favourite type of fur cloth is. Way to spread awareness, bitches. You devastatingly dumb, profoundly puerile, remarkably retarded, seriously stupid BITCHES!

Oh, are you girls reading this getting offended? Good! Because when you threw your common sense out of the window, it really hurt mine.

Why it pisses me off

Let’s examine all this closely: bra colour, places where girls like to keep their handbags and alcoholic drinks. You know what’s common among all these three? None of them mention two words: Breast Cancer. Stupid bitches who perpetrated these bullshit in order to promote awareness of breast cancer completely ignored mentioning the underlying issue of breast cancer.

Subsequent comments on such status updates would be something like “I’d love to see that colour on you”, “You like it on the table? I like it in bed” or “Hey, wanna catch a drink sometime?” There would be all sorts of nonsense being said, but no one would say anything about breast cancer, because they wouldn’t know about it anyway.

Now I’m not trying to be less serious about the issue of breast cancer. I’m all for awareness, because it damn well is a serious issue and needs to be taken very gravely. Being a boy, I have even mentioned it to my mother. But what are these girls doing? Nothing at all, but trying to act all cute and concerned when really, they just portray themselves as loose sluts (albeit cute). They are all in effect trivializing a fatal disease. They’ll flirt and act all dark and mysterious, while breast cancer awareness gets completely side-lined.

Did I see anyone writing anything about symptoms of breast cancer or its diagnosis? Did they provide any information or statistics about it? Did they link to any charities, foundations or institutions that deal with breast cancer? Did anyone appeal to their friends to make a little donation? Did anyone even make a little request to sport the pink ribbon? Nope. Not even once. If anything can be termed as massive failures of collective intelligence, it’s these embarrassing blunders. Not once, not twice, but three times. So you can guess how big the individual intelligence of these girls really would be.

“I can hear the sea inside my head!”

Why it pisses me off even more

One of my close friend’s mother was suffering from lung cancer. Last year, it took the wind out of my chest when I saw the state of her after chemotherapy. She was a complete opposite of the lively lady whom I used to know: weak, emaciated and prematurely old. At that moment, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what my friend would have been going through. He had then informed me that they could only try to ease her pain and hope for more longevity. All those times whenever I used to call him, I tried not to talk too much about it, because it even hurt me.

Last month, after a prolonged battle with her illness, she passed away. She was a lovely lady, and I had known her since my school days. When I came to know of her demise, I couldn’t find any words of comfort to offer to my friend, because I was too shocked.

Wikipedia says that lung cancer is the most common cancer in terms of both incidence and mortality, in both men and women. Skin cancer takes more lives of women than breast cancer. Yet, the floozies on Facebook never talk about that. I don’t see anyone saying anything about lung cancer. Why? Because breasts are sexy but lungs and skin are not? Are other forms of cancer not glamourous enough?

There is nothing, and I repeat NOTHING glamourous about cancer. When these wenches on Facebook do these foolish stunts in the name of a carcinoma, they are taking away the focus from the core issue by flirting and acting naughty and generally being all-round whores and trivializing everything about cancer: the seriousness of the disease, the treatment and the pain that the patients and their loved ones go through.

You bimbos are not doing anything other than reinforcing the stereotype that girls are fucking stupid and inherently ignorant creatures. You are not earning any respect by doing these senseless shenanigans, just losing whatever you have. Spare a little thought for the ones who suffer. If you can’t do that, wear a red bra, go to the bar, have some drinks and let some guy screw you on the table.

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P.S.: Seeing that you girls on Facebook aren’t very bright, this entire post may have flown way over your heads, or you probably didn’t read it anyway. So I’ll do a little summarizing for you ladies in the immortal words of the legendary Antoine Dodson: “You’re so dumb. You are really dumb, for real! You are really, really, really, really so dumb! So dumb, so dumb, so dumb, SO!”

And you can run and tell that, homegirls.

Witnessing an Accident

The last time I had to witness an accident happen, I was badly shaken. It was all over in one horrible minute. That day, I couldn’t eat and had somehow forced myself to sleep. It took a couple of days for me to get over it and forget that awful image that seemed to be etched inside my head. Two days ago, I had to see another.

It was another one of those bad days for me. I was returning home on the bike and was just about a kilometre away when it happened. Ahead of me was a mini truck and a bike with two guys on it. Suddenly, without any indication, the mini-truck swerved and hit the bike, which was immediately thrown off balance and the two people on it hit hard on asphalt.

I don’t know what my reaction was. Now that I think of it, I don’t know if I had consciously applied the brakes to stop at the side of the road and run back to see if the people were alright. I don’t like to see blood, it makes me queasy, and by the look of that fall, I was expecting the worst. I just hoped that those two people were alright. They were stirring, they had bruises all over, and they were in pain. A few people had gathered around by now. I took out my phone to call the police. There was no network.

I looked at the person who was sitting pillion. He was lying on the ground and trying to sit up. I shouted at him to lie down on the ground and not to move. The other guy was on his feet being helped by someone—he was apparently better. I turned back the the smaller guy and saw that there was something odd with his legs. My insides were squirming, the last thing I wanted to see was a dislocated bone or a fracture. But I saw that he was severely handicapped by polio. I was starting to panic.

Someone suggested to take them to a hospital. I volunteered to get a rickshaw, but seeing the traffic, going back and fetching a rickshaw would have taken a lot of time. Another biker who had stopped offered to take one to the hospital. The handicapped person had somehow got up and he was in obvious pain. When all I heard was “Koi isko hospital le jao”, I volunteered.

I told the guy to hold on to me tightly, and kept asking him random questions all the way to keep him talking. I learnt that his name was Prem. In that panicky hurry, the only thing I heard I registered earlier was “the other guy has been taken to the hospital in Sector 12”. Then I realized, there are a lot of hospitals in Sector 12. I took him to the one closest and told the nurse to take care of him. I was told his injuries did not appear to be very severe. Prem had no phone on him and there was no way to find out where his partner was admitted. I wrote down my cell phone number, gave it to him and assured him that I’d return very soon after I’ve tracked down the other guy.

After checking in about 6 clinics, I finally found the one where the other guy was admitted (it wasn’t in Sector 12). Thankfully, there were other three other people there, who I came to know were his friends whom he had called up. I took two of them to the other clinic where Prem was admitted. After being reassured that everything would be taken care of, I left.

Witnessing an accident on the road happen right in front of your eyes is a really horrible experience. Later that night, I was being almost overwhelmed by the feeling of “what if it was me on that bike”. It was just by pure luck and sheer coincidence that I was able to avoid being involved in that mishap. If I was going a bit too fast, I’d have fell as well. And then that awful thought crossed my mind: what if there was a woman carrying a little child on that bike. I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to see what would have happened. I’m big wuss. But then, I somehow consoled myself by thinking that the victims were alright and that at least I was able to help one of them; at least I didn’t have to stare helplessly in utter shock at a body lying crushed under the wheels of a trailer.

I Hate Luv Storys—The Review

So I went and watched Rajneeti yesterday and now I present to you my review of I Hate Love Stories Luv Storys.

“Wait, what? You watched Rajneeti, asshole. So review that.”

OK. Rajneeti is a political hodgepodge with guns and explosions.

So back to the review of I Hate Luv…

“Hold on! I Hate Luv Storys has not even released yet. You can’t revie…”

[Sound of gunshot]

So as I was saying, I went to watch Rajneeti and saw the theatrical trailer for I Hate Luv Storys during the interval. And that was enough for me to write an entire review of IHLS (abbreviation is inevitable and apparently, unaffected by numerology) for you people.

What’s the story? Produced by Karan Johar’s Dharma Productions, IHLS tells the story of a boy who doesn’t believe in love luv and a girl who does. He’s the cool hip happy-go-lucky guy and she is the girl in search of true love luv. Hmmm… Now where have we heard that before?

Psst! Not the only source.

Well yes, the first one that comes to my mind is of course Dil Chahta Hai, because that movie has a certain freshness and cool factor about it. The IHLS story is just plucked out of DCH—just that part about Sid and Shalini. So, in IHLS, Aamir Khan has been replaced by his nephew and Preity Zinta by Anil Kapoor’s daughter (Bollywood: Nepotism, Inc.). The boy and girl are opposite in beliefs and character and if the laws of Bollywood teaches us something, opposites attract. So they start to fall in love (a lip lock between the lead pair can be expected, because smooching in movies is in vogue now, and it can also be used as scrap fodder for the desperate and hungry entertainment news people), they travel all around the world, sing songs, break up, make up, sing more songs and live happily ever after.

It’s just the same old wine, in the same old bottle; they’ve just changed the stickers.

With added cute!

Summary: Girl wants to teach boy the power of love. [SPOILER: Boy learns the power of love.]

There, I just saved all you people Rs.200 (and an additional Rs.200 in food and drinks at the multiplex). You’re welcome. Now, if you still want to watch IHLS, I’d suggest you to slap yourself, slap yourself once more on the left side and watch DCH again. It’s a better movie and you’d be saved the pain of watching Imran Khan ham on a large screen. If you still want to waste your money, then please send it to me. I’ll gladly accept it (free of charge). No, Karan Johar doesn’t need to worry at all. The deliberate grammatical errors in the title of the movie would make sure that it would be a financial hit.

P.S.: The spell checker hates numerology. Stupid spell checker.

On the God Hypothesis and Religion

This is inspired by (and since he felt I’d be interested in it, a response to) Aayush’s post On Creationism Versus Evolution. Although, I had in fact made a rough draft on these things randomly a long time back, but I never bothered much to structure the thoughts or polish it. But before everything,

Disclaimer: I’m not a good writer and it’s not hard to see that I’m not. I probably won’t be very clear and elaborative on expressing my thoughts, but I hope to do my best. Philosophy is not really my forte; even though I do have a lot of things going on in my mind, it’s kind of hard for me to put them into words. I’d expect the Goan bastard to be an ace at such stuff. As I said, I’ll try my best. Also, this is gonna be long and boring.

Why God, Why?

Well, Aayush is probably right about the answer to the question of “who created God?”, in that it is just one of the many things which in my opinion that led to God being the answer. From whatever I’ve read, heard, watched, and deduced with some independent reasoning by myself, I could say that God (and religion) was created as an easy and convenient cop-out for the question “who are we, and why are we here?” Any normal human being is bound to ask that question, like a child asking its parents “where did I come from?”, because we are an inquisitive species that need answers for everything. When there aren’t many other explanations, the God theory is the one that could be assumed to work.

If you want my hypothesis, then as more human beings started getting comfortable with the notion of a powerful supernatural creator who created everything including human beings themselves, they might have realized that they that they have a source—a creator parent—that would tell them the purpose of their lives. No one in known history would have actually ever seen God (except maybe manifestations in dreams and hallucinations), but through various experiences, they might have concluded that certain things—thoughts, philosophies, actions, phenomena or individual persons themselves—are a word, sign, act or an incarnation of God. They also probably simultaneously started believing that this almighty being, as a creator-parent, watches over them for whatever they are doing, judging right or wrong. That, again, is an easy cop-out to hold a person accountable for their actions. And naturally, that proved that this way, human beings can be controlled with the belief of a higher omnipotent and omniscient power.

Justification

We are always on the lookout for something to support an answer, a crutch, something to believe in why things happen—some would be satisfied thinking that it’s God’s will, some would use words like fate and destiny, while others would say that it’s the evil eye of the envious. But in the end, it works for them and they think it’s true because the thought is satisfying. I hope I’m conveying my point here.

People can easily do bad things and get away with it. Someone affected by the bad actions of a person would naturally want justice or revenge. But it is not that easy, is it? The concept of God (as well as things like the afterlife, heaven and hell, karma, '”what goes around comes around”, Judgement day, etc.) could as well have been made as it offers a very good consolation to the aggrieved that they can rest assured that the wrongdoer will be punished, he will reap what he sowed, and all that. And simultaneously, the concept of divine justice is also effective from a psychological viewpoint at restraining people from committing wrong things.

Now, as a group, people would have agreed upon certain things that could be, have to be, or should not be done. As an easy progression and extension to God, what were earlier cultural values and mores, could naturally be assumed to be sacred commandments in due course and later on be assimilated as religious doctrines—something that could draw parallels with Aayush’s point of the cat in the temple. Human beings want to be happy, happy to know answers about themselves and things around them, and to be felt as part of a group. With religion centered around a God, it becomes fairly easy to achieve all of these. Sam Harris offers a very good explanation.

It’s Natural

For someone who doesn’t know anything about the concepts of evolution or natural selection, it would be reasonable to feel awed by the surroundings. It would not be difficult to assume that everything that one sees in nature is the result of divine creation. It is a satisfying answer. Of course, you look at an animal like a cat, and it’s easy to assume that a creature of such complexity cannot be the result of random chance, and that intelligent design can explain it fairly well. But people like Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett or Sam Harris offer quite concrete explanations to God and religion as a natural and biological phenomenon built in to human beings, something that would naturally be designed by people.

In fact, as Dennett says, religion is something that has been brilliantly designed, and something that evolved over the course of years, as a result of natural selection. If you look at history and study civilization, you’d find there have been many Gods and religions that were in existence at a time, all of which are now extinct or have been replaced, but various influences can certainly be traced. If you give it a thought, religion (or the word of God) evolved over the years to suit contemporary needs. It underwent various changes, driven by many contemporary factors, till it became dominant. But once it became dominant, all the major ones seem to have stagnated without progress, refusing fiercely to part ways with old belief systems.

Here, I would like to quote Bertrand Russell on philosophy:

In philosophy, though not in science, there are those who make changes a matter of reproach. This I think results from a tradition which assimilates philosophy with tradition, rather than with science. […] I should regard an unchanging system of philosophical doctrines as proof of intellectual stagnation. A prudent man imbued with the scientific spirit will not claim that his present beliefs are wholly true, though he may console himself with the thought that his earlier beliefs were perhaps not wholly false.

(There are hundreds upon hundreds of Russell’s brilliant quotes on this topic; you gotta read them at your leisure.)

As with natural selection, a dominant religion tries to survive and stay relevant in the light of scientific breakthroughs that make religious explanations look obsolete and ridiculous. To show that they are relevant, they try their best not to change and take to desperate measures like literary shoehorning.

The Good And The Bad

If someone were to say that the belief in a God is good because people can do good things in God’s name, then I can’t quite agree. One thing I am absolutely convinced of is that there are absolutely no absolutes in this world. There is no absolute good or absolute evil. These are all variables that change from time to time, place to place, culture to culture—there is no absolute morality. What would make you happy, what would satisfy you, what you think right, is what is good for you. It might not necessarily be considered good by another person.

When you think about it, in the end, it all results in a manner in which a person was brought up. Children do not get informed consent in what to and what not to believe. They are taught about the good and bad by their parents, usually in line with their religious beliefs. Passive acceptance comes easily for kids; kids are programmed by evolution to listen and learn from their parents. If I were to have a child, I know what I should tell him. I could start with “Stealing is bad. Think of how you would feel if someone stole your stuff”, rather than “God would smite you” and progress to “It is very wrong to kill a person. You have one life. Think of how many things you can do. Think of how many things you could see. Would you want to deprive a person of all those opportunities by taking his life?” We just need to be open and have open minds. We just need to bring up people to be good. Not as effective as “God would punish you”? I don’t think so.

You see, if people can be restrained by the thought of an old man in the sky watching their deeds, it is equally possible to hold them accountable by teaching them about the laws of the land, because by the look of things, it does seem that not many people (especially religious ones) seem to be concerned about the wrath of God these days, anyway.

Miracles and Modern Shoehorning

Drawing from my earlier statement, it’s easy to attribute the unknown to miracles or the supernatural. Almost every known culture would have had their own explanation about eclipses. The sun, the giver of light, the maker of day, being turned dark suddenly certainly was bound to be seen as an out-of-the-usual evil occurrence. Hence, it was obvious to have so many superstitions associated with eclipses at that time, many of which continue to be perpetuated by Hindi news channels these days. But today, we know that eclipses are just shadows, nothing else.

Centuries ago, people had no idea what caused diseases. It is plausible that they would have assumed that these diseases—bad things that caused harm and suffering to human beings—were caused by something malevolent, in the absence of a proper satisfying answer. So obviously, they’d have thought that diseases were caused by something evil like the devil, or an omen, witchcraft or the evil eye or perhaps eclipses too. Superstitions about those things still abound.

But when people discovered that certain plants and herbs had properties that could provide relief to a victim suffering from a disease, it’s plausible that people immediately saw that these plants that could alleviate pain and suffering, as the antithesis of evil—virtuous and sacred, God like even. So in their minds, these were nothing short of miracles. The discovery of curative properties of trees like Neem or Tulsi would probably have been the result of experimental trials or freaky coincidences, but the discovery was in itself quite an achievement. And since it was something like magic, use of these magical herbs to be incorporated into sacred texts and rites and rituals probably was a matter-of-course.

Of course, people back then didn’t know the chemical composition of Neem oil or that Neem seeds contain a highly oxidized tetranortriterpenoid called azadirachtin which “boasts a plethora of oxygen functionality, comprising an enol ether, acetal, hemiacetal, and tetra-substituted oxirane as well as a variety of carboxylic esters”, or that Tulsi has high concentrations of 1-hydroxy-2-methoxy-4-allylbenzene which acts as a pain-killer (all data referred from Wikipedia). But now do we know because of scientific researches. The expertise that people have now was lacking with people back then.

But these scientific researches are now used to to back-fit and validate ancient literature and rites. You see, just because ancient doctors or researchers discovered something doesn’t make the discovery a miracle. Discoveries are always waiting to happen. Statements like “use of neem and tulsi was already there in our sacred texts and rituals since eons and science is just now discovering various such properties; it just tells how much our ancestors knew about these things; our sacred books are truly wondrous; our religion is true” are made a lot these days and this is a desperate method to validate stuff and smacks of intellectual dishonesty. In fact, people nowadays look for words and statements in ancient texts, and use the ambiguity of language to shoehorn science into pure woo (in some cases, they’d try to construe pure malicious statements as euphemisms for something else).

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There ends the main part of the response to Aayush’s thoughts. Now, for some of my own thoughts:

Religion = Brainwashing

Initially, perhaps (I can’t emphasize on the word ‘perhaps’ enough) religion was devised with good intentions, but with the current scenario, it takes all sorts of ugly faces. Let me quote a person named Adrian Barnett:

“If a child runs into the room saying “Mummy, mummy! I love Jesus and He loves me! We’re all going to Heaven when we die and God is looking over us!”, people will smile and praise the child. Nobody would say “Don’t be silly. You can’t possibly say that because you don’t fully understand everything about the religion. How can you know that for sure, when you’ve not read the Bible in the original Hebrew?!?”. But if a child (or teenager, or adult) says “I’ve had a good think about it, and have come to the conclusion that Jesus is a myth and nothing in Christianity makes much sense. I declare myself to be a freethinking secular humanist.”, then they are quite likely to receive the latter response. You could have all the theological training of a hedgehog and still get wild applause if you stand up and say you’re a Christian, but it seems that atheists are required to demonstrate more intelligence and Biblical expertise than all the clergymen and theologians that have ever lived before they are allowed to publicly express their doubts.”

Replace Christianity with any religion in Barnett’s statements. It’s the same deal in almost every case. The children are being taught be believe all the woos that their parents believe. When a child would say that “Ganesha loves me!” or “Allah adores me!”, he/she is being a child on the “righteous path”. A child that doesn’t know what independent thought is is brought up to be a Hindu child or a Christian child or a Muslim child. That’s the identity they are given right from when their minds are developing. “You are a Christian/Muslim/Hindu first and only then are you a human being”. Propaganda right from the start. What else can you call it but systematic brainwashing? But when a guy starts to think, he gets strayed. He commits a big sin by rejecting some old beliefs. This is the only smart way that religion can survive—brilliant design.

I love Barnett’s statements, because I have also been at the receiving end of religious criticism very often when I try to have a debate. The usual stuff thrown at me is “You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t have a clue. Have you read those beautiful books? Come back when you read them”. I wouldn’t have been able to be in a position to question your belief if I wasn’t aware of what I was talking about in the first place, would I? Did your little child ever read the Bible or Koran or the Ramayana or the Gita to worship your respective gods? Does your child even know why he/she is following some rites and rituals? Does he/she know the supposed complex symbolic meanings that is there in the scriptures? But when I put a logical reasoning against your beliefs, all of a sudden, I get condescending words which imply that I’m a no good imbecile who doesn’t know anything. When someone questions the logic, they're usually (if not resort to threats and abuse) given the same redundant answer: “It’s true because the book says so. The book is true because it is God’s word.” But the faith is strong enough to make them so obtuse to see the ridiculous infinite reduction here.

Another ludicrous answer put to me is “It’s been this way for centuries. Our ancestors couldn’t have been wrong!” WRONG! Did your great great grandpa really know that the earth was round? Did your great great great grandma and her second cousin know that the chicken pox was actually caused by a virus, and not by a witch? Did they know eclipses are just celestial shadows, and not caused by mythical monster called Rahu? No, they didn’t. But now, we know. And people would frown upon persons who think otherwise. But when it comes to religion, they choose to remain static. “No chance about that going wrong! The book says so…”

The fact is, religious people usually don’t try something out of their books. Like a beautiful thing called thinking out of the books. Only the people who questioned the conventions, those who swam against the current, have changed the world. Religion never did anything much significant other than unite like-minded people (or perhaps people who were made to believe), and later on make them into a cult, make them feel good about themselves, make them violent, flow rivers of blood and make them suspicious of each other, and it still continues, and that hasn’t changed since centuries. It would have been better if a religion told its people something like “Dude, you’re free to believe in a grandpa in the sky and stuff, but hey, just keep it to yourself. It’s your personal thing, kapish? He loves you and and all, but there’s no need to take things too seriously. Just do your job, live your life, don’t do evil and enjoy!” But does any religion do that? The biggest problem is that religion teaches people not only to love their god, but at the same time also to be afraid of him, to be in awe of him and to be proud of him—to love, be afraid, be in awe of and to honour and defend an imaginary friend and to be proud that you believe in that imaginary friend. It’s no wonder that the fanatics can be so fucked up.

[Comic via Toonpool]

Dear Angry Hindus

Have you been to the Ellora Caves in Aurangabad, Maharashtra? It’s one of India’s most awesome ancient historical monuments. I’ve been to Ellora Caves twice, and believe me, I saw a lot of sculptures of naked ladies with big boobs and gents with their Johnsons Babu-Raos hanging out. Pictured below is a rock sculpture showing Shiva and his lady Parvati at Ellora:

Bom chika wow wow!

Yes, as you can see, Parvati’s tits are clearly visible (notice those nipples?). And look at Shiva’s left hand (Boom Shankar! Yep, he’s holdin’ boob! You naughty god, you!). Can’t really blame that guy. Shiva’s known to be an outcast from society, is horny, wraps himself in tiger-skin (Aircel, take note and do nothing), smokes cannabis, drinks soma, has a huge ego, violent temper and plays a drum while holding a chick wrapped in his long hair. The dude’s practically a rock-star.

But, leaving aside Shiva’s horniness and awesomeness, I was wondering if the sculptures were made at a time when wearing clothes wasn’t fashionable? Could be, right? I mean, if Hindus at that time weren’t so crazy about clothes, that could explain why the gods are depicted in their birthday suits, couldn’t it?

But, I know. Something is clearly wrong here. How can Shiva and Parvati be depicted nude? That’s fucking blasphemy! That is against Hindu culture and moral values. That is against our glorious tradition. C’mon, let’s destroy those statues and imprison the people that made them!

Oh, wait. The guys who sculpted this thing would be long dead. This was made somewhere between the 5th to 10th century A.D. (source: Wikipedia). Traditions were probably formed around those times, no? But fuck that! THOSE SCULPTURES ARE VULGAR AND THEY MUST BE DESTROYED, I SAY! What? No? Oh, c’mon! Where is all your aggression? Where is all that rage? Where is that vengeful anguish that you guys show, like you did over that frail old Muslim artist* who painted some goddesses in the nude?

Seriously, you guys are nuts! How can thousands of people visit those caves everyday, enjoy the history and be peaceful when there are boobs of goddesses exposed? Would you like your mother or sister be depicted like that? No na? So what are you waiting for? Go fucking destroy those caves!

FUCK YEAH!!!

What’s that? Those sculptures were made by ancient Hindus? But your mothers? I mean, that’s your argument against that artist, right? I give up! How could you excuse those perverse lunatics of the Kamasutra period who fashioned those disgusting obscene sculptures? Oh, shit! The Kamasutra! If you’re gonna destroy those dirty statues, you guys should totally fucking burn every damn copy of the Kamasutra! It’s full of ashleelta. Chee! Don’t you know we pious Hindus don’t have sex that way? Sex is bad! Oh, fuck! DAMN YOU EIGHT HUNDRED MILLION HINDUS AND GROWING LIKE RABBITS! You people are really making this whole thing look like an exercise in futility.

Er… I think I’m digressing. But I’m not being a hypocrite here at all. Just like how you people are trying to punish the fuck out of that feeble little old man and destroy all his offensive paintings, you guys should really look at your history and annihilate all profane works of historical Indian art ever made that depicts any god or goddess in the nude. No really, you’re doing everything right! You really should be fractious about these things. You should rightfully not let him take Qatari citizenship, and get him back to India so you could all kick his wrinkly old ass, to serve as a lesson to anyone who would so much as even think of painting any naked goddess in the future. Don’t you let that 95 year old man live in peace for whatever little time he has got left on this earth.

—

PS: With this post, I declare myself a marked man whose life could be threatened.


*To be very honest, if some of M.F. Hussain’s paintings can be considered art, then my 6 year old little cousin could draw even better than him—she draws things that are at least perceivable. I find it hard to see any woman (let alone any goddess) in some of the paintings by this “great artist”. Some filthy rich fucks probably find marvellous artistry in his work; I find him way overrated than my little Kichchu. I’ve never been a fan of abstract modern art, so it could be just me. But if some of those things are art, then so is this shit that I made:

Yes, you have the right to be offended

So who’s giving me 20 million dollars for my art? It’s drawn in MSPaint with digital ink whose colours are some hashcodes. I call it “Divine Bullshit”. That is a random goddess next to goobimama. Yeah, that’s Milind Alvares doing his usual thing. Trust me, to be depicted beside that crazy Goan motherfucker is more of an insult to a goddess than any insult that could be painted by M.F. Hussain. Plus, he’s kind of Christian. HALLA BOL!

Saving The Tigers By Online Stupidity

The internet unites people. It really does. Intense debates, causes, shits… Blogs, social networking, news. You name it, people will be there. It is the world’s greatest network for communication that brings a lot of people together (but also responsible for comments on Rediff). Unfortunately, it can also unite loons who forgot to go to the clue shop. There are two kinds of people among all the other two kinds of peoples. People who actually contribute to a cause productively, and those who actively give lip service.Take a look at this:

Roaring together for the tigers.

WOW! (As if the Aircel campaign wasn’t senseless enough.) You people are so caring and thoughtful. You guys, all the 19,283 (as of this screenshot, and counting), just saved the 1141 tigers left AND also caused a tigress to give birth to 3 cute little cubs with all your… passionate one line rhetorical sentences posted on a Group of a social networking site that really couldn’t give a rat’s ass about a bunch of oh-so-good we’re-all-only-so-good-at-telling-what-should-be-done people huddled together online for a cause—which ultimately can’t even produce a whiff of wind to move a little feather.

Oh these kinds of stupidity, it hurts my face from all the incessant palming. I’ll be frank here. I’m no activist, but if there was something genuine I could do, I probably might try to help. In the meantime, have all you “groupies” actually ever questioned anything regarding this issue or tried to find out some information?

Now ideally, I’d personally really want to knock some fucking sense into you people. Should I start a group for that? Nah, it will only attract some more morons who’d also want to do that kind of stuff, but actually would only post hate on the “group-wall”. Doesn’t make sense right? I probably could venture out offline and hire some people to knock some sense into you (because, honestly, I really can’t do it). But I won’t, because it is senseless (and a lost cause).

Now, I know that you know about the 1141 tigers because of those Aircel ads and one of you having a lightbulb moment jumped at the opportunity and started a group on Facebook, and the other sheep flocked around. But did you even for one second think how the fuck and what the fuck would Aircel be really doing to save the tigers? Yeah they fucking made you aware! Dhoni gave his royal commandment on TV. Big fucking deal! So how exactly is it saving the tigers? Blogging? Sending text messages? That’s gonna stop the poaching right? Because all those poachers really carry their laptops and Aircel mobile internet cards along with their guns and are really members of StumbleUpon and Digg, right? They would actually grow a fucking conscience by reading all your lustfully fierce blogs for the cause of the tigers, wouldn’t they? And the tigers, they’d really get all horny and start romping and produce little cubs because you voyeurs are silently voicing your valuable opinions on a Facebook group, right?

No, not this Tiger. He doesn’t need your online help to romp.

It doesn’t take much to realize that the task is humongous. It would take sincere efforts and a shit lot of money for the protection and conservation of tigers and their habitats. But what the fuck are people doing about it? I really don’t know. I’m not in a position to comment. Am I being a hypocrite here? Perhaps yes. But still, practically, I won’t be the kind of great armchair hypocrites as you people are in this issue. If I’m not doing anything by not doing anything, you’re even worse because you type and type and type and still do nothing. And Aircel is doing what you all are doing: telling everyone to do something, but ultimately, sit and do very little. Saveourtigers.com shows that more than 65,000 people have “joined the roar” and … um… yeah, they’ve joined. That’s it. What exactly would happen if I “pledge my support” or “join the roar”? I show my solidarity? YAAY! I totally saved tigers! So you know what? Fuck you, and double fuck you, Aircel!

P.S.: What the fuck is with you Facebook people, becoming fans of sentences describing a mundane activity? Yeah, I wake up at 12 pm, I brush my teeth with Close-up™, I scratch my balls and think that “yep, feels good”® and probably do some more things most of you might be doing. But, gosh, are these things to be a fan of?

Addendum: Someone asked me, “What about Orkut?” Well, the infinitely intelligent people on Orkut would have already made 150 “sAvE dA tiGeRzzZz....!!!!” communities with words written in a random combination taken from 150,000 indiscernible weird fonts. But they’d still be better than the Facebook smart guys, because they’d all start an infinite word game thread and will continue making fraandship requests to random people (meaning, people having a female’s face as their picture). Saving tigers be damned!

Agneepath, The Poem—Why I Still Remember It

So this movie Agneepath starring Amitabh Bachchan was on Sony Max and I was reminded of the legendary poem of the same name by Amitabh's father Harivansh Rai Bachchan (not related to Aishwarya Rai Bachchan before Bachchan Jr. married her). It goes like this (if you can read Hindi):

अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ! अग्निपथ!

वृक्ष हो भले खड़े,

हो घने, हो बड़े,

एक पत्र-छाह भी,

मांग मत, मांग मत, मांग मत,

अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

तू न थकेगा कभी,

तू न थमेगा कभी,

तू न मुड़ेगा कभी,

कर शपथ, कर शपथ, कर शपथ!

अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

यह महान दृश्य है,

चल रहा मनुष्य है,

अश्रु, श्वेत, रक्त से,

लथपथ, लथपथ, लथपथ,

अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ, अग्निपथ।

I won’t bother translating it, but I still recollect every word of it. This poem was in my Hindi textbook when I was in the 8^th or 9^th standard. But it was somehow (I don’t know why) not included in our “exam curriculum” and hence was not “taught” to us by the teacher. But I can remember every verse in it by heart. You might be wondering what was it about this poem that left a lasting impression on me for it to be etched on my memory forever, even when it was not “included in the syllabus or taught”.

Grand B.

Was it because it’s a thought-provoking inspirational poem that changed me somehow? Fuck no. OK, it actually is a good poem and if you really read it, it isn’t very hard to really memorize it, but still, it would have faded from my memory in 8 years. I remember it, all thanks to the Great Kavi Shri Shrikant Tiwariji.

“Now who the fuck is Shrikant Tiwari?” you ask? Well, Shrikant Tiwari was my classmate in school and he used to sit next to me. Now, Shrikant had a penchant for turning seemingly ordinary poetry into really interesting poetry by substituting words in them with words that would be considered downright obscene and filthy by old people, ladies and some abnormal guys. And boy, Shrikant’s modded version of Angeepath sounded fucking hilarious at that time. Forbidden language, which 13-14 year old would not find it funny? Almost every guy in class laughed their guts out loud when they heard it.

When you really look at it, when words are changed a bit here and there, things can get a bit, or a lot more interesting and funny. It’s simple, people; simple vulgar mnemonics. Boys love it! But I’m not posting Shrikant’s version here, because, you know, old people, ladies and some abnormal guys may get offended (Amitabh Bachchan himself might not be very amused, if he happened to stumble upon this page).

P.S.: Did you know P.S. is abbreviation for postscript? No, it does NOT stand for “Psst!”, you jackass! Yeah, you’re welcome. And no, unlike you, I knew it since I was in 7^th or 8^th standard. No, not using any vulgar mnemonics. I used to read stuff. Stuff other than school textbooks.

PPS.: I wonder where Shrikant is right now. I haven’t been in contact with the guy since years. Really funny guy, he was. Also, a very good friend.

PPPS: PPS stands for post-postscript, and PPPS stands for post-post-postscript, though only PPS has somewhat common usage. You’re welcome, again.

PPPPS: OK, I just made up PPPPS. I did not lift that poem in Devanagari font from any website. I typed it myself using Google Transliteration.