Wednesday, April 21, 2010

The great escape

Nothing is more irritating than a middle aged friend of yours who has turned a new leaf.

Whats with these morons who has a minor heart problem and the next thing you know, the guy is eating like a cow instead of eating a cow and has given up the finer things in life like a good glass of scotch and smokes. Why would anyone want to live a life like that?

Die , you bastard , die.

Worse than that guy is the romantic husband .

These fakers should be lined up against the wall and shot.

No man who is happily married is romantic to his wife. Show me a guy, who writes notes to his wife , gives her flowers every morning ,whisper mushy nonsense in her ears and holds her hand in public; and I will show you a man who is creating a smoke screen to cover a guilt.

Men who are content in their status as husbands are not romantic. Romance is a mean to attain the woman. Once the woman is attained we go about providing and protecting. We see no need to waste time on repeatedly pretending to attain something that is already attained. Any married man who is romantic is an insult to his wife. It means either he is still wooing you ( which means he is not secure in your love for him) or hes cheating on you .

Allow me to elaborate.

Men don't talk to other men about their wives when they meet up. We don't sit and chat about how great our married lives are or what a great lay our wives are or what great cooks they are.

We don't.

We don't talk about you. We don't talk about the state of our marriage amongst ourselves ( we save that for another man's wife). Contrary to popular myth, men don't discuss sex when they get together.

Watch out for that guy who waxes eloquence about his married life. That man is not happy in his marriage. He is just trying to convince himself that he is. Men hate men like that.We pity them. We wish he would shut up so that we can carry on our conversation about our cars.

We love our cars. We treat our cars better than we treat ourselves. We service our cars at regular intervals, wash it regularly, spend pots of money on it but we probably will never give that kind of attention to ourselves. Why? This is how men love their possession.

Marriage means to belong. It means to possess. It means you will always come before us. So the day you start cribbing about love being about freedom and craves for the ridiculous non possessive love (wtf?) , we start paying more attention to our cars.

A loving man owns his wife. That's how he relates to his wife. That's what makes him your husband. Marriage is ownership. Each owns the other. The difference is in the ways we treat things we own.

Women somehow never seem to be happy with one pair of shoes do they?

So there you have it.

How to know if your husband loves you?

He will not talk about you. He will not waste money on buying you flowers and guilt gifts.He will take you for granted.He will treat you like his car.

So if your hubby is the sort who makes other men gag , then I suggest , its time you start checking his collars and ramaging through his pant pockets.

Maybe I dont have to line up and shoot 'em after all.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Lost & Found

One of my blogger friends called today to tell me that her ex has lost his mother.

I curbed my first instinct to ask her, 'where?'.

Years of married life has taught me to be polite and the art of pretending to care.

After going on for sometime about the suffering of the poor woman, she consoled herself by telling me that she must be in a better place ( Not my blogger friend,who is still alive, so she must have been referring to the 'lost' woman).

I have a problem when people tell me things with certainty about things they possibly can have no clue about.

Better place?

Let us go with the popular assumption that we are all some sort of energy expressing our self. In which case the body is the vessel through which we choose to do this expression.

With me so far?

Since the body to a large part is a sensory device, this world we see around us then must be perceived through the functions of our senses. More or less. So it stands to reason that when we die; if this energy actually exists and this energy is what you and I really are; then devoid of the body everything around us will cease to exist because we cannot perceive it anymore. Its not that it does not exist but it just cannot be perceived anymore. This should be death. Right?

Actually it cant be that simple. But it sounds nice because it ties everything up very nicely. Problem is , will we be able to perceive us as our self? Possibly not. Without a reference point, which the duality of body and soul concept conveniently provides, I cannot point to one and say this one is me. Therein , my friends lies the paradox of death. For all practical purpose, it seems that with death, you and I cease to exist.

Better place? I have no idea. I cant even my bend my mind around the concept of a world without perception. You try it.

My friend thinks Iam cold. Iam not.

She thinks Iam morbid. Iam not.

She feels the dead should be respected because life is sacred and a person's death leaves a void. That effect of a person's life on another should be respected.

You think? I have no idea.

I dont know this person. Neither does my friend.Atleast not intimately. Any void she must feel is probably self induced. In this virtual voyeuristic world, where one can be kind to a nation by swiping a card, its probably self satisfying to assume that we care because we can shed tears in front of the TV screen.

We care.

Iam not belittling anything. Emotions are emotions. But lets be realistic. I certainly didn't lose my sleep when a plane went down and 96 people died.Some one's parent, husband, wife, brother, son, daughter..what have you. The only void they must have left is in the thoughts and life of those whose life was intertwined with theirs intensely. That void too will fill up.Eventually. The dead are carried only by the living. Like Siva carrying the body of Uma until the rotten carcass fell piece by piece on earth. Dead do not leave any void. The void is in the living.

As for respect. The dead don't seem to care too much for it.

So my question, my friend, still remains :

Where did your ex lose his mother?

Sunday, April 4, 2010

i cad

I bought my laptop in 2006. My mobile phone is around 4 years old too. I think the tech savvy part of my personality died around the same time.

I think I just gave up trying to keep up.

My current plan is to wait it out and see all the new fads come and go until we develop a technology that will make us Omnipotent, where we become part of the cosmos and each part of us is aware of the action and thought of another.

Who needs Apple ipad after that?

The only competition will be from heaven.

How cool is that? I can just picture the advertisements. On second thoughts, it wont be necessary since I would have already known it by the time they had conceived it.

Iam a potato and gravy kind of a guy. I have never been that into gadgets.It could also be due to my low IQ which cannot process the instruction manual that comes along with those gizmos. My first mobile could be used as a dumbbell but its functions were simple; you press the required numbers, talk on it and then press another button to disconnect. I still don't know most of the functions of the one I own now. Its 4 years old but I heard it can replace my wife if I had bothered to read the manual properly.

I like gadgets. I like that it exists. I may not like to own it. Since owning it will mean having to learn to operate it. My learning curve went south when I was around 10 and its showing no signs of returning anytime now. But I like that there are things out there which can take a Britney up skirt picture, help Paris improve her nocturnal moves, record ex presidents make racial slurs, calculate the exact date when the banks will put us on the streets, listen to the latest about Fergis' lovely humps, watch the latest beheading from the Islamic independent movie makers , google 'nude muscled chicks' and call the supermarket to send home 5 sodas and a packet of Marlboro lights for the evening session with JD.


I like progress. I have no idea where we are headed but its great to know we are moving. Its a heady feeling. This thing called movement. I like to think that progress means theres some sort of movement involved. That we are all going towards something. Heading towards the end of the rainbow or something. Iam pretty optimistic about things. Even though Iam in the cheering squad for the 2012 deluge, I still feel theres something beautiful being concerned about something so simple as wanting to google 'naked muscled chicks' on a gadget that floats to the ground should you happen to drop it.

My workmates have been trying to convince me to buy a blackberry.I don't even want to know what that one does. If it makes jam, Iam willing to give it a try. I wanted to go in for a Wii Fit. I thought that if I can lose a couple of pounds playing video games then I should give it a shot. But technology had brought sports indoors. If I wanted to sweat I would have had sex you fuck face.

I have to go now. Its a long drive back home and I think I will listen to the radio like I always do. Theres an element of surprise in a radio. You never know whats going to come next. I like radio.I like drives.I like long winding roads leading home.

Happy Easter.