The Horny Indian
What is it with Indians and their raging car horns? Across the country, drivers get more sadistic joy out of pressing the beeping button than any other pleasure-seeking activity. Yes, yes, even that. I mean, just go to a traffic light which has turned red and you will be assailed by a high-pitched cacophony as the drivers behind get horny despite the display informing everyone that it will be 120 seconds before it turns green. Psychologists will find a connection between horn-blowing and sexual inadequacy but there’s no better symbol of pathetic men than the sign at the back of the lorry—Horn Please.
Thanks to the allure of free messaging, it’s become an anarchic space with groups of every kind joining at the rate of one million new users a day. A higher percentage of the world population is under the spell of WhatsApp than that which perished in the two world wars. It’s a terrifying thought since the frequency with which one is bombarded with photographs, audio and video files and jokes has increased to about once every five minutes. The addiction is enhanced by the prospect of being part of closed groups where there’s a smug sense of privacy. After a while, most WhatsApp users get to know what it’s like to be stalked, or, indeed, be the stalker.
Subhas Chandra Bose
The myths around Subhas Chandra Bose. It’s amazing how many people, especially in Bengal, still refuse to believe either the fact or the circumstances of his death. If indeed the INA leader survived the plane crash in Taiwan (what plane crash?), he would be 119 years old. The conspiracy theories to do with Bose have had an exceptionally long shelf life and it’s about time we buried them, along with the Bose family gatherings it encourages every time his birth anniversary comes along, when unfortunately another conspiracy theory is born.
Fake bags and kitty parties
Check out any kitty party in any city in north India and the one thing in common will be the sight of the table piled high with, not food, but oversized handbags. That is so they can be displayed prominently and seen by every female in the vicinity. They have one thing in common—the designer label. LV leads the pack because the logo is unmissable, followed by Dior, Hermes and Fendi. They are all fake and picked up from the last trip to Bangkok but a handbag, fake or not, is what sets you apart from the plebs who prefer function over form.
Having to Prove Your Patriotism
TV studios have seen much flag-waving and off-note singing of Vande Mataram to prove patriotism. Those who declined were promptly labelled anti-national. It started with Smriti Irani decreeing that all schools fly the national flag, at a dizzying height of 207 feet, so that students would be imbued with the nationalistic spirit. But her suggestion was tame compared to a retired Lt General who wanted a battle tank to be placed in the JNU campus so any thoughts of sedition could be shot down immediately.
The Nine O’clock Noise
Some TV anchors believe that noise is news and the only way to arrive at TRP heaven is people screaming at each other. The nightly drama at 9 o’clock as seen on identifiable TV channels is more akin to a reality show than a journalistic exercise based on a search for the truth or a debate of reason and substance. And now, we have doctored videos and the cynical use of armed forces to browbeat studio guests who are rational or liberal in their views. Welcome to the execution chamber.
Book Launch
They have become elaborate social affairs where the launch is preceded by a two-hour panel discussion by ‘intellectuals’ on a subject that may or not be connected to the contents of the book being launched. The author may or may not get to say a few words before the crowd runs him/her over in search of the bar or the food counters. Sure, there are those who will stay to buy the book and get it signed but the majority are there to be seen and pretend they read books.
Party Spokesmen
The official party spokesmen are bad enough—witness Sambit Patra blissfully waving his iPad with doctored videos—now it’s the unofficial ones we have to cope with. They’re led by thespian-turned-terminator Anupam Kher. Kher has been entertaining us for a while with his views on what it is to be an Indian. His fulminations on “champagne liberals” and his intolerant views on intolerance have given the BJP’s official spokesmen an inferiority complex. Kanhaiya Kumar, his prime target, says that Kher is his favourite actor so there still may be hope for all of us after all.
Punjabi Pop
Desi rappers like Yo Yo Honey Singh and Mika may have taken a local music genre and given it national acceptability, but it’s an assault on many senses, most notably our hearing. DJs, may their tribe decrease, have given us many sleepless nights by playing Punjabi pop at maximum volume but the other, more insidious issue is to do with the lyrics. They are misogynistic, promote drugs, drink and violent sex, yet thousands of kids are dancing to Honey Singh’s song which translated, says ‘Four bottles of Vodka, that’s what I drink daily”. It’s a Punbabi take on Gangsta Rap but here’s the problem; pre-teen kids are singing along and dancing to the music.
Myths about ancient India
Nuclear tests were conducted by an Indian sage centuries ago, cow urine is a sure-fire cure for diabetes, genetics and plastic surgery were common in ancient times. Even PM Modi has weighed in: “We all read about Karna in Mahabharata…Karna was not born from his mother’s womb. This means that genetic science was present at that time.” He then added this gem: “We worship Lord Ganesha. There must have been some plastic surgeon at that time who got an elephant’s head on the body of a human being and began the practice of plastic surgery.” QED, as the ancient Indian sages used to say.
Hate-Mongers
They have been crawling out of the woodwork with frightening frequency, advocating the elimination of castes, communities and individuals. Minister of state R.S.Katheria asked Hindus to take to the streets for the final battle at an event in Agra, while his BJP colleagues exhorted the crowd: “Behead ten for one head.” Similar sentiments had been aired by BJP president Amit Shah and his colleagues during the Bihar elections, and now we have Adarsh Sharma putting up posters offering a reward for anyone who cuts off the tongue of Kanhaiya Kumar. Such hate-mongers really should be shamed in a public place. After all, we really do hate them.
Deodorant Ads
There is no escaping them on our TV screens where every five minutes, they are hissing and spraying someone’s underarm and conveying the misogynistic message that it takes one deo spray to have women swooning and falling at men’s feet. They are also becoming sexually explicit—one shows a deo can expanding and erupting after being stroked by a female hand. With names such as Fogg and Axe and Engage, it’s getting increasingly suggestive but we never see any suggestion that Indian men have a hygiene problem, or BO, and not even a word about sweat equity. Methinks something doesn’t smell right.
Chetan Bhagat
Author Chetan Bhagat is becoming a literary blurb with his discordant views on everything from climate change to campus sex, and some subjects he really should avoid where political ideology gets in the way. He criticised authors for returning their awards; then made a real dog’s breakfast when he slammed historians who had taken on the central government for growing instances of intolerance. He wrote: “What do historians do? I am genuinely curious. This happened. Then this happened. Then this. Ok work done for the day.” He really should stick to his night job—a judge on Naach Baliye.
Peeing in Public
It’s the most revolting sight on any Indian road—a line of men urinating against the nearest wall. Genetically, Indians seem to have the world’s weakest bladders. Being the world’s largest democracy, it makes for a lot of pee, never mind the spit. It’s almost as if it is a national pastime. The old excuse was that there were not enough public toilets but now that they are, the practice continues, steadfastly. One can even see them doing it next to a public toilet facility. Habit is a firm master, one must assume, even if it’s an unhygienic and slightly disgusting one.
Indian driving etiquette
Or lack of it. Someone described Indian traffic like water flowing down a hill—it finds the path of least resistance and goes for it. Indian drivers overtake from the left, the right or anywhere they can find the smallest gap. Pedestrians, strays and bicycles do not matter; they are to blame for coming in front of your car. Lane driving is an alien concept as are any and all signs banning left turns, u-turns or horns. Road rage is a very acceptable concept, even if the one showing rage is often responsible for flouting traffic rules or signals. Do it often, and it’s enough to drive you round the bend.
Homophobia
Thanks to the Supreme Court, India is one of the few countries in the world where sex between consenting adults of the same sex is a criminal act. One member of the homophobia club is astrologer Suresh Kumar Koushal, who has filed petitions claiming homosexuality is evil. There is also Baba Ramdev who has promised to cure homosexuals through yoga, and organisations like the Vishwa Hindu Parishad. Its vice-president Om Prakash Singhal declared: “Homosexuality is against Indian culture…. We are regressing, going back to when we were almost like animals.” Being gay in India is more like being a spy.
Spam
Other than those who send it, it’s hard to find anybody who doesn’t hate it. It’s the curse of the modern era. Most people spend more time deleting spam—property, matrimonial, even erotic massages—than reading legitimate mail. It’s nothing but digital abuse since it is unsolicited, sent in volume, and from a stranger that you are never going to see. It’s cheap to send but a major pain to get since the time taken in deleting spam is incalculable. Imagine the phone ringing randomly 20 times an hour and it’s tough to find anything more annoying. No country or technology has found a way to block spam. It’s hate speech by other means.
Khap Panchayats
They are an assembly of village elders whose word is law in many parts of north India. They are an anachronism in the 21st century, since khap panchayats have encouraged honour killings, expelled couples for falling in love or marrying outside their caste and banned ‘modern evils’ like cellphones, noodles and adult women wearing jeans. The courts have condemned what it called “‘self-styled decision-makers” but no chief minister in states like Haryana dare take them on. Former CM Bhupinder Hooda went far enough to call them “NGOs who are part of Indian culture.” Um, sure.
Men-only Places of Worship
It’s a contemporary form of purdah. Women are barred them from entering iconic temples and mosques. One excuse is that menstruating women render the sacred ground unclean, a specious argument that has endured. The Sabarimala temple in Kerala takes it to an extreme. All women aged between 10 and 50, goes the rule, must be kept out. Temple priests responded to demands for a change in rules with the taunt that, well, maybe after a machine has been invented to detect if women are on their periods. Well, how about something to verify male celibacy?
Radio Jockeys
In between playing the best song to dance to in the rain, they offer advice to the lovelorn, crack a few lame jokes and give you advice on which route to take to get you home. RJs are the TV anchors we can hear but not see. Which is why they have to bombard us with endless prattle and fulfil the definition of a motormouth. The brief is simple—act cool, informal, friendly and a bit of attitude will not go amiss. The problem is that everyone got the same memo so they all sound alike, and there’s nothing more irritating when you’re having a bad hair day than having some prat carry on non-stop into your ear.
