The Gone Fishing Book: 2010

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

My article for an Elephant matrimonial website.

I work closely with a matrimonial website for elephants. Here is my latest post I wrote for them that addresses an important social issue.

Calf Marriage - A social concern among Indian elephants

At elephant matrimony, we provide a novel digital portal for pachyderms to find their soul mates and involve in the blissful social contract of marriage. However, apart from pimping elephants we also are keen in taking steps towards addressing key social issues and project ourselves as being socially aware and a little holier than thou.

The Indian elephant (Elephas maximus indicus), more commonly known as the "Elifend (or Yelifend)" in the southern states of India, was traditionally considered to be a very conservative animal with a tenuous grip on cultural and moral values. But with the tempestuous influence of modernization, the modern elifend has transgressed all boundaries and to the point that it has been implicated in cross-border terrorism. The modern elifend is no longer chained to the confines of temples in Kerala, eating bananas and begging for alms. The modern day elifend can be found eating peanuts in zoos in San Diego and in circuses in Las Vegas. However despite this modernization, the elifend is still known to hold on to its core cultural values and does not offer pre-marital nookie to the ~~horny~~ "tusky" bull-elifends.

In this day and age where elephants have progressed to ocean swimming and using guns, it is quite sad that we are still plagued by social stigmata from our past. One such social issue is that of calf marriage. In jungles of India, many calves are married off in a tender age even before they have started tusking. Some wedlocks are made when the animal is still in the womb. Given that elifends are pregnant for about 2 years, pregnant cows are made to participate in cruel "swayamvars" where all other elifends have fun at their expense. Given that pregnant elifends cant drink or smoke already, it would be a mammoth torture for them to tolerate all this.

(Baby elifend Surulirajan distraught after calf marriage)

Calf marriages are even often rigid business contracts and violation of such contracts bonds the offender to cruel punishments such as offering the partner's family a lifetime of free back-rubs during afternoon mud baths. Conditions are even more difficult for she-calves who have to also provide dowries to the male elifend's family. Dowries can range from the nominal comb of bananas to exorbitant gifts such as fancy vehicles.

(Bridegroom elifend Manmadharajan enjoying new found wealth from dowries)

We at elephant matrimony are strongly against calf marriage. Which is why we demand age proof to ensure that every elifend, registered be of legal age of marriage. We also mail pink elifend underwear to elifend swayamvars and as gifts to calf-marriages. But strangely little baby elifends seem to like the pink underwear. (A German expert suggested that we mail them bananas with needles stuck in them, but before the plan was consolidated he became busy on a mission to kill an octopus.) Our steps may be slow, but they are steady (much like that of an elifend).

Not to blow our own trumpets but we would like to encourage every other animal matrimony site to also be aware of such social issues in the animal kingdom. Which is why we urge our sister concern Spider Matrimony to swiftly address the issue of Black Widow remarriage before it spins its vicious web around all other animals in the animal kingdom.

Lets encourage poaching, but only poaching of eggs. (well it is a healthier option!)

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

Bon Ap"pet"it...

When your social skills are as limited as mine, you would at some point come down to pets. Eventually, you would have asked all of your friends to piss off and they do have the constitutional freedom to oblige. On the other hand, animals don't have a constitution, they can be caged and no matter how mean you are to them, they have no choice but to stay. You have to realize that creepy old ladies don't just smell of cats, they sometimes actually have cats. The problem however is, I have not grown up with pets. It was my mother's opinion that my sister and I were already like filthy dogs, so she didn't see the point in having a third one. This leaves me with a problem, I don't know how to grow pets*.

The problem is these things don't come with an instruction manual, there is no check engine light or oil pressure gauge and unlike in the cartoons they don't turn green when they are sick. So, how do I know if my dog is diabetic or has acid reflux. How do I find out if my cat is manic depressed or suicidal. So given my luck and ineptitude, I will end up with a diabetic suicidal dog that I will manage to kill before it kills itself. The only logical way conceivable, to come out of this predicament gracefully, is to buy a pet that is edible. Like a rabbit. That way, when my pet dies, I could continue eating my Rabbit Scallopini or Muyal Biriyani and just say " Yeah, I meant to do it."

But that is simply not a feasible solution either. I cant just have a rabbit as a pet, the "Macho man Randy Savage" in me would just stick his head in an oven and turn it to 500 Fahrenheit. My pet has to be cool, should have something like a prehensile tail, or a forked tongue or should come with guns and explosives. So obviously, my ideal pet is an Iguana. It has more vowels in its name than consonants and that already is worth a million cool points. And, nobody will feel bad when the Iguana dies (eventually), so I wont look like a beast. No pretty girl has ever gone "awwww" for a dead Iguana, so I can just throw it in the trash and that will be that.

So now that it was certain that I am getting a pet iguana, I had to think up a name for it. Again the problem is, the convention of naming your pet after the pigmentation or texture of the skin doesn't work very well, like "Spot" or "Fluffy" unless you think that "with spiky tuberculate scales behind the neck" is an appropriate name. In fact none of the conventional pet names would work, a cool pet really needs a really hot name. So again obviously I had to name it after Korean Food. So I decided my Iguana was going to be called "Jjajangmyeun", sounds like the name of a nuclear powered ninja.

Just when everything seemed to be coming together quite well, I realized something and everything just fell apart. Sadly, Korean food names are not appropriate for iguana. That's because Koreans don't eat Iguana, but you very well know what they do eat... DOGS. (Now here is where the train of thoughts gets derailed, hundreds get killed, Crores of rupees worth of goods are destroyed, the railway minister issues a press release etc.) I mean its a fantastic idea to name your dogs after Korean food. That way when the Koreans eventually get your dog, they will know what to cook with it. Think of it, Bull-terrier Bulgogi or Poodle Noodle with Collie-flower in Terrier-ki sauce**. Doesn't that just sound too perfect to pass? So please name your dogs after Korean food. I know the whole iguana plan has been jeopardized, but nevertheless, Bon Ap"pet"it.

*You don't "grow" pets do you? Its not like they are plants or bacteria. What do you do with pets anyway? Raise them?? Nurture them?? whatever it is you do with pets, I don't know how to do that.
**I know that is not Korean but you sometimes have to roll with it.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The Hamiltonian

If you called Lewis Hamilton - A Nigger who cant drive; would you be racist in more than one way???

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Sheer Brailleance!

I just invented "Fine-print Braille". Its just like braille but the dots are not raised enough, so now blind people can also be cheated into buying useless and terribly expensive cellular phone contracts.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Men are from mars??? No wait, thats for fat people!!!

Have you ever been in a situation when you wanted to just sprint a few yards, just to catch a bus or to get to a meeting on time but you havent been able to because you were too fat? Are you a bloke who is 250 pounds, and you want to lose 150 pounds, with just minimal effort? The answer is simple, go to Mars. I am not joking, this is a scientifically verifiable truth. If you are 250 pounds now, you will weigh only a shy short of 100 pounds in Mars. Which is why I tell you fat people should be sent to Mars and much for their own good.

You see life is all about survival. Imagine if you are fat and being chased by a pack of hungry wild dogs, and you need to run for your life. You cant do it cause there is too much friction between your thighs, and the fact that your heart trying to pump oxygenated blood through your jupiter body is somewhat like trying to fill a bucket with an ink-dropper. But on the other hand, that wiry thitch whom you can break in half on a given day can easily outrun you. Wild dogs are typically not on diets either, so they will be happy with a big wad of adipose laden bacon rather than chewy lean meat. But the wild dog situtation can also be seen metaphorically, it is a dog eat dog world. Thin people are always beating you to the restrooms, to the line at the bank, they are moving places faster. Life is about the survival of the fittest and if you cant get fit soon enough, it is time to migrate. And what place to go better than Mars.

Fine, I do agree that I havent thought this through completely, there are some difficulties, with little things like food, oxygen and things like that. But the more I think about it, I find that this option is becoming more realistic. Like food for example, most fat people have enough adipose reserves to last a few years maybe, so if you can just keep hydrated, urinate infrequently and derive some minerals from martian rocks that will give you time to figure things out.And guess what martian rocks are rich in iron, you will never have anemia and that is a good thing. What about temperature, it is colder in mars, no problem fat people are so well insulated all you need maybe is additional body hair, some hair implants on the body to begin with and in a matter of a few generations nature will naturally select the hairy ones.

Life will be rosy in Mars. First, there are no wild dogs in Mars. And as all the thin people will be busy chasing each other on earth, 60 60 72 will be the new 36 25 36. You will be happier because there will be no more "fat" jokes because of the pot and kettle predicament. You dont have to use a motorized cart in WALMART to procure your daily supply of hot-dogs. All of physical activity will be so much easier, that your hearts will be quite relaxed and the capillary thin clogged arteries will be more than sufficient. You can run your heart's content without breaking as much as a sweat and for once you can get off a couch in less than a minute without the use of a forklift. There are just many martian records just waiting to be shattered, there is a Usain Blob in each of you just waiting to do what you are destined to do. So listen to what I have to say, get your martian arse off the couch, brush away the french fries off your manboobs and be on your way.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall : Which planet/satellite is ideal for my weight? Click here to find out.

PS - I am in quite an acerbic and irritable mood, so I don't care for euphemisms now. Fat people are not horizontally challenged, they are plain fat. If this post hurt you, here is my advice, try to cry yourself into losing a few pounds. I am sure I will regret this post some time later.

Credits : The idea was a brainchild of RMD and he is also going to hell with me.

Friday, April 09, 2010

The Indian mother Vs The Little red light

You know how dogs go inexplicably crazy chasing the red dot from a laser pointer. My mother is a little like that too, but with the little red LED lights on electronic gadgets. For some reason this whole "stand-by mode" concept doesn't make sense to her. When you turn a TV off, she wants it to really be turned off. I mean to say that it is not enough to just turn it off using the remote control, you need to get off the couch, walk up to the television and really turn it off till there is no red light. The microwave clock ticks her off too, when the clock blinks at her it becomes like this itch that she cant resist scratching. Its the same with the laptop, the modem, the air-conditioner. Every light emitting semiconductor device has to be dealt with till they no longer produce light. And you have to absolutely do what it takes, like press that main power button on the TV (and it typically takes about four thumbs to press the button) or find that hidden switch on the modem that really is impossible to locate or pull out the power-cord from the switchboard that is hidden so far behind the desk that it requires your elbow to bend backwards in order to reach it. You have to realize that some of these demands are physically impossible and dont even get me started about getting off the couch. I totally understand why one should not waste power and I admit to being guilty, more than once, of letting the television run without actually watching it, but I don't understand why it cant remain in the stand-by mode. I tried to explain to her how the little red LED actually doesn't use all that much power and how getting off the couch can be injurious to my health, but lets face it she is incurably addicted. When my back is turned I know she still secretly goes about turning things off.

I would normally let her go about with her button pushing addiction, but the other day she just pushed the wrong buttons for me. I was trying to turn the laptop ON. Now, the LED predicament means that I couldn't leave the laptop in suspension. This meant that I had to resurrect my laptop again from its death, electrons had to move about in the system and reach a state of dynamic equilibrium before I could use it again. And this only takes about 15 to 20 years. So I thought I could turn it ON, go check the scores of the cricket match and come back. Then my dear laptop will be waiting for me ready to use. I turn on the laptop, go watch the cricket match till the advertisement comes on (which nowadays happens every time you blink). So I go to check if the laptop is turned ON and quite irritatingly it was turned back OFF. Why on earth would you turn a laptop off before it even booted up? And how in the 3 milliseconds that I was away, did my mother find the time to come and turn my laptop back off.

Now this was simply getting out of hand so I turned it back ON and went to go give her a piece of my mind and tell her to keep her hands off the laptop. I marched into the hall furiously rolling my cuffs up only to ironically find myself in the receiving end of a tirade for having left the TV running.... and the laptop running... and everything running. What ensued was a well rehearsed commentary about how I leave everything switched on, with an emphasis on how precious electricity is, and with side-notes mentioning my lack of concern for the economy and the environment and how education has completely failed me. I hunched into a ball in one corner of the room and cried myself to sleep.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

The Ultimate Guide to Driving on Indian Roads – Part II : Knowing your enemy

In India, driving is like warfare. You have to fight for your right of way, your life, your vehicle and sometimes even your personal belongings. The key to survival lies in understanding the enemy, you need to know what you are up against. Here are some typical ranks among the enemy lines.

The Scooby-Doos - You dont mess with the Scooby-Doo. You never ever mess with the Scooby-Doo. If someones has a horn that goes Scooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Dooby-Doooo, you dont ever want to mess with them. Just step aside and watch with sheer glee as they self-destruct themselves by running into a derelict India Mark II water pump at a blinding speed. Then you do the customary “Haha... serves him right, God bless his poor soul” thing and be on your way.
The Murungakka maamas (Ze Drumstick Uncles.) - they are found on motorcycles, dressed in a sober full sleeve shirt. There will a portly lady in the rear seat unbalancing the vehicle by sitting with both legs hanging on the same side of the bike. This imbalance is countered by hanging a bag of groceries containing 2 murungakkas (drumsticks, the ones that are eaten) sticking out of the bag on the handlebar on the other side (hence the nomenclature). They are the low-life of indian roads, the bottom feeders. They get the least respect. If one of them is in your way, just blare the horn or start cussing out loud and they will dig a burrow on the side of the road and go into hiding.
The flag bearers - typically Ambassadors, Qualises that have a flag fluttering on the bonnet (The hood is for Yankees, we have bonnets.. and Dickeys… and Stepneys). They are generally people with loud political affiliations (read thugs). They make the laws and uphold them too (the unwritten ones of course.). Just don’t mess with them. In fact, there is this story of a man who once tried to fight with these people, they say he mysteriously vanished.
Men in uniform - No, I am not talking about the police or the defense forces, they don’t count. Auto-rickshaw drivers, bus drivers, tourist cab drivers (now why all these guys wear white, is something that I can’t explain, but nevertheless). Now here we have a symbiosis. They drive like imbeciles but perfectly understand if you do the same.
The Edentates - Long thought to be a myth, sightings have reported that there are some vehicles in India that have not yet been dented by some freak collision. These guys will try hard and try very hard at that to keep up to that status. They will be very careful and cautious, so we can take advantage of their meekness and force them into yielding for you at the turn. But if you push it too far, and they end up losing their dent-free status, just try to evaporate from the scene or something to that effect. You don’t want to be there.
The Geriatric-Seizing-Magnets - The old peoples, the ones with the under-arm cobwebs. The ones that died a few days ago, but then their family didn’t notice it and they just sent them out to buy some kerosene from the ration store. They just crawl along at a gastropodan pace. If you get any closer than 3 feet from them, they go into a major epileptic fit, convulse wildly and develop this intense magnetic attraction that gravitates towards your vehicle. And before you know it you are being blamed for killing a person who was already dead in the first place.
Bonus-points – cyclists, pedestrians, sitting ducks etc.
The Vegetable Express - All hail the glorious "Vegetable Express"!!!!!!!

Friday, January 29, 2010

Exponential Decay

Statistics indicate that I will be posting about 2.27 times this year. So I guess I will be posting again sometime after summer. Thank You.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Social Awareness Quiz - Answers

Social Awareness Quiz