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    Surviving The North Indians

    Declaimer :- The Content to follow are purely the author's opinion and his sheer bad luck to go through the torture that brought about the necessity to scribe this piece. None should take this as a general offence when the blog is never meant to offend at the first place. As the author is concerned about the security (his security) hence the the declaimer, or else there is no burning requirement as most of the north Indians might not be able to read (school & college are alien words for them) this- let alone understanding it. There I go...

    My first encounter with North Indians dates back to quite sometime and the subsequent frequent encounters due to many of the unforeseen and unavoidable reasons and of late on daily basis (this is my fault though).

    My visit to Varansi (Benaras) while I was doing my engineering was in fact my first visit to the north part of India and let me tell you I don't have very funny memories of the whole trip. No sooner I took my head out of the boogie at Benaras station to get off the beast, lightning struck me in the form of a saffron fountain of saliva (Yuk Thuu..). I don't know who did that artwork from the whole bunch of people rushing around in the platform but certainly I ended up having a T-Shirt divided into two parts with a thick layer of saffron mixture starting right beside my neck to the bottom. Looking at the volume of the stuff splashed on my T-Shirt, I am sure it must be a collective effort of at least couple of guys or else no person in earth can carry that amount of toxic substance in his mouth and still be alive. Must be the affectionate way of welcoming the visitors to the city I presume. I finally managed to reach my destination after a lengthy auto ride where the driver made sure I see the complete Benaras town and charging me a good Rs 200/- from no where. Thankfully he never charged me for that wonderful information he shared about a certain Babulaal Kachoriwala where I was supposed to get the best Kachori in the world near the ghaat.

    Never bother about my other encounters with these chaps from the cow belt but let me assure you - none of them are pleasant the least. Anyone who has gone to Delhi and had that honour of travelling via a DTC bus can very well write a book on Hariyanvi conductors. For these chaps the decency in talking and the sanity of the words they use are immaterial or should I say they care the least. For them an entity from the President of India to the rickshaw puller are objects to be showered with their filthy words. Thanks to the metro few not so accustomed individuals like me are spared from this agony or else either you would get down of the bus much before your destination reaches or would feel like slapping yourself for deciding to go with the DTC option.

    Look at their politically elected representatives. You don't need a more exemplary figure than Susri Mayawati (or should I say
    statued Mayawati ?) for reference. Do you? They elect leaders who would be hand in gloves with them in their nefarious activities as crime is the second best (of course first being chewing paan) thing they love to do. I never knew this but someone just confirmed that raping women is another of their favorite pass time. No wonder Delhi is the undisputed rape capital of the world. When they are all done with disturbing a whole generation they come up with some thing called the Khap Panchayat nonsense. There is only killing but no honour, but these self denial Neanderthal individuals think otherwise. Shamelessness goes to overdrive when these clowns go about chest beating about their marvelous acts of killing their siblings in the name of fake honour. Most have already given up hope that these guys would ever improve. Educating their daughters is also a strict no-no for these guys and for that matter education is never an important spectrum of life for these guys.

    As of mine is concerned - I have a half north Indian family. She being from a Punjabi family and we being from the eastern part. When I say we, I don't consider me there as I am just that layer of cucumber in the middle of the sandwich. Sandwiched by both the cultures I am about to give in sometime soon. Being dildaar or so which these Punjabis refer themselves is one thing but expecting the whole world to be equally dildaar is quite an ask. No sooner you take that Paneer Pakoda from the plate in a party from no where this thundering laughter would come out giving you an impression as if the sky has fallen on your roof top. Before you could put that piece in your mouth with still your hands shaking post that laughter shock there would come this gentleman laughing all the way from a distance with both of his arms open to embrace you. What would follow for certain would beat the living day lights out of you, well for a lean and thin man like me at least. The tight hug would continue till the point you barely can breath all the while thinking what to do with the pakoda piece in your hand, that you took few minutes ago. You will be let off when you barely show any signs of movement. The moment you take the first complete breath in last 5 minutes, the affectionate gentleman still laughing would throw at you his questionnaire box, starting with - Aur sunao beta, kyese ho aap? Once he finds that -Aap achhe ho, he will enquire the same about your parents and possibly all your relatives known to him or he barely have heard about them, while continuing with his perpetual laughing in between the questions. Keep it in mind the pakoda would be still in your hand. These are the same guys who would dream Kareem's chicken at the mid of the night and would make sure to wake you off from your sleep to
    acompany them for a good time. I continue to suffer and guess have to suffer many years to come :(

    All said and done, these are fellow Indians and best be accepted that way. But it is definitely an art to survive them. If you just can't manage to avoid them (like me), then you badly need to learn (I myself failed to learn it though) the trick of minimizing your pain as for sure - Crime or no crime, Rape or no rape, Over exposed affection or not,
    MNS anger or not. This is a race which either you can hate them, or love them but can't ignore them. Hope jokers like Raj Thakrey and team listening.


    1. Such a whiner....lol! Agree you east - wimpies haven't got what it takes to face on life while acting like a pro problem dodger, every second knuckhead like you hates us for being too loud, arrogant and boisterous however, down back in their own lives, they tend to forget what a livin sissies are they, with no life, their appearance even darker than the Golconda's interiors gives them huge inferiority complex (No wonder you fell for a Punjaban just to align yourself marginally into our lines, now don't feed me the crap, it was vice-versa), having zero social life/respect are nobody to judge bunch of loud dimwits who seem represent whole North Indian community, for numpty guys like you! I tend to concur with you almost every one of your blogs, just that, here we got our difference, for a change! ;) And oh yeah, do not go on ranting how your North Indian enmity was aggravated due to another loud flash grand fat wedding that just happen to leave your logic shuddered and in pieces...that ain't helping!

      There are ups and downs to every community and you can't, being a blogger of this proportions, go on biasing against one of them.

    2. Lols at your writing.. you immature twat..