When the going gets crazy, the crazy get going!! (Part I)

Crazy. I almost feed off of this word for a living :)) In my six odd years of this American life, I’ve had a good dose of it and I’m gonna dump some of it on you, the reader :). Some personal experiences, true stories from reliable sources of information ;), some that are possibly rumors and some that are beyond crazy. Nonetheless, I’m sure you’ll enjoy most of them!

Fiasco #1 (of course, since its my personal fiasco, it gets more attention than the rest :))

As you would expect, I’m starting off with a personal fiasco which has etched itself into my crazy catalogue for eternity ;). Almost 18 odd months ago, one fine Friday night, I and my friend P decided to go clubbing. I hadn’t had a good lunch but the craving for partying took over my hunger. As we all know, empty stomach + alcohol + too much dancing = disaster! :) So, we hit the Lion’s head pub (www.lionheadpub.net) where there is no cover, ever :) and we cut loose. We danced like there was no tomorrow, with anybody and everybody and I hit the point where the blood percentage in my alcohol was rather low :)). I started dancing with this Mexican girl who had this huge handbag, if you will, and I had this sudden urge to dump empty beer bottles into her bag, simply because it fit like a dream in it! Not to mention that I liked the sound (*clanging*) of the beer bottle inside her bag. So, I start filling her bag with beer bottles (we danced for an hour and I threw in around 4 bottles) and at some point, she realized the weight, checked her bag and freaked out ;) She actually said something in the lines of “wow, guess that’s why I’m so drunk already” :)))) so, it wasn’t too bad and she didn’t call the cops. =))))

We finally left the place, went to Dominos Pizza where I passed out, sitting on the chair =) (yes, I’m cutting on some details here ;) and P managed to carry me out to the car somehow. I had no idea what was going on, at that point! (and to think I did my Masters!). So, he drove by Walgreen’s and the clerk warned him that I might be poisoned with alcohol. He panicked and drove me to a hospital; Four people picked me up, carried me like it was my last journey and dumped me in a bed where I happily crashed for around 4 hours. I slowly came to my senses around 4am, looked around and I saw all white around me. The sheets were white, the beds were all white, I saw a nurse obviously in white and I thought it was the light at the end of the tunnel :))) I panicked and blabbered something aloud, the nurse came by and said “honey, do you wanna take off your clothes? We’d like to have you admitted”. That was it =))) I jumped off the bed and said “noooo! I will not undress. What do you want from me?”, like it was B-grade movie pre-rape scene =)) P was quickly summoned and then it all came to me!! I collected myself for few brief seconds, told him that I was ok, ran out of there in utter shock, dismay and embarrassment and woke up the next day only to get the ultimate consolation from one of my best friends. Apparently, his friend had gotten wasted the week before, walked out of the bar and while he was crossing the road, he kinda passed out in the median (which had bushes) and woke up the next day to the sound of traffic zipping by on both sides! Fabulous =))) One thing that I should mention is, P, I’m indebted to you for saving my ass that day. I owe you one, dogg!

Fiasco #2

J, one of my good friends, who thinks getting wasted is a civic duty, pulled off this uber cool fiasco at the Underground Wonderbar (www.undergroundwonderbar.com). As the name suggests, it’s an underground bar owned by their lead performer, Lonie Walker. Now this lady is a legend and very popular in Chicago and she was performing this one night, maybe around year ago. I wasn’t there but a bunch of my close friends along with J had gone to see her perform and little did they know what fate had in store for them =))) Before we proceed, J’s most fav rhyme is “go shortty…issh ur birthday”. The way he rhymes it, by itself, is something that’ll crack u up, for sure. Anyway, the bar is a tiny one and you have to walk past the band to get to the restroom. J gets a few beers in his system, his bladder rings the bell and while walking to the restroom (through the band), he decides to show his respect for Lonie Walker’s brilliant performance. So, he starts rhyming his “go shorty” verse (why “go shorty”, noone knows :)))) and he swings his arm above his head like how an audience would jive to a rap song (you can visualize the 8 mile trailer where you see hands in the air, oscillating up and down with the beat) and he walks way too close to Lonie, so close that he accidentally hit her mic with his hand and the mic jams into Lonie’s face :))))))))))))) Unimaginable. Before the gang could react to what J did, the bouncers grabbed him, made him sit and said something in the lines of “if you as much as move, we’ll kill you” :) Somehow my friends managed to apologize and they weren’t kicked out, but believe you me, this is the funniest s*@# that I’ve heard happen to anyone, anywhere!!. Dammnn I so wish I had gone there with them that night ;)

More fiascos to follow :))

"Take me out to the ballgame": PART I

Go Cubs.

So, who are these Cubs? In short, a Chicago baseball team who wear blue and give you the blues. Can you imagine a heart breaker receiving relentless, eternal love from millions of people at the same time? I have two apt words for you here; NO SHIT. The Cubs, christened 1902, have arguably the biggest and most loyal fan base who they happily let down year after year. They won their only world series (the world cup of baseball) in 1906 and have slumped for a frikkin' century!

Since this is part I , I'm making it as generalized as I can to suit all readers. If you're not into baseball, it is reasonable for you to ask “Oh what about the Chicago White Sox? Didn't they just win and shit?”. Well, here's the thing. The White Sox represent the south side of Chicago and the Cubs represent the north side. Sure, some of you might think “Oh, it looks like these dumb fans are being preyed by the media to bite into the inner city rivalry”. If you did, I hope you never say that aloud and if you do, I hope you never bump into me. The kinda fans that usually bite into media hype are 1) fair weather fans who jump onto the bandwagon 2) mentally crippled people who think its cool to be a baseball fan and 3) just plain dumb people. Most of the “real” fans, in my opinion, wouldn't give a rat's ass to whether the Sox slump or win five rings in a row. They only care about the Cubs' winning and our division rivals' losing. It does piss us off though, that our team isn't able to pull it off :)

So you get the picture. There's this baseball team, they wear blue, they lose all the time, fans still love them and don't care much about another team winning the world series in the same city. BUT WHY?? How come the Cubs aren't losing their fandom given their poor performance? I really don't know. I think it varies from person to person but overall its because no matter how they play, the Cubs are a very lovable team. You can almost equate the fans to a mom showering her daughter with love for 20 odd years even though she knows that one day, she'd be married and gone, just like that. We love you anyways, Cubbies :)

Why do I like the Cubs? Its primarily because my meek baseball knowledge (no modesty here, baseball is really an ocean!) was endowed by two Cubs fans, D and M. I loved the game, loved everything about the Cubs (except their losing streak), loved Wrigley field (like nothing else!!) and loved every single Cubs tradition. Whether its screaming “Take me out to the ballgame” with 40,000 fans or shouting “woo woo” along with one Mr. WooWoo who wears a jersey with “Woo Woo” written on the back and screams Woo Woo all the time :) (wow, too many woo woo's) or the fans throwing baseball back into the field when the opposing team hits a home run, its an unbelievable place to be and I love it.

All you Cubs fans out there, I know this is way too general but Part II will cut right into the chase, I promise :) To finish it off, I'm including a small verse written by my friend K, a Cubs fan now in Atlanta. If you don't watch much baseball, most of these references will be obscure; If you do, I'm sure you'll love it.

****
still, belong to chitown
still, the windy city is all i care for deep down

still, a midwesterner
and i could care less about the land of turner field;

still bleed cubby blue
still long to walk on waveland avenue

still a bleacher bum
still strongly despise the southside scum

still read the tribune
while "root for the cubbies" is all i wish to croon

still wlk the streets of Atown yelling eamus catuli
still hate furcal for bringing down dlee

still long to see the friendly confines
though with 2 bad seasons passion but hope is what still remain
*****

Go Cubs. Stay tuned for more.

Thank you for gyrating.

Wow. I tickled your curiosity, didn't I? Let's get started :)

Clubbing: An activity which involves young men and women gyrating at a dance club to the music played by a DJ with a fancy name which you'd forget before you walk back to your car. :) You know what I'm talking about. At least thus far. About where I'm getting at, here is a disclaimer. The intended audience of this blog is young males (25-35) who go clubbing, hoping to get some attention from the opposite sex. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not trying to play the pimp. However, I do hope to help some hapless souls who often waste time, money and energy just to get snubbed by women. So, let's get that dirt off your shoulder. Today.

A little bit of introduction about myself before you choose to take or leave my advice. If you showed my picture to let's say, 10 girls, I would guess that at least eight of them would say I'm unattractive. In other words, you can't write me off saying "he's probably hot and maybe he got lucky several times". This is not about me, at all. Its all about how you can get your *beep* together from my experience.

Anyhow, I've been clubbing for almost 3 years now and over the last 18 months, I've clubbed almost every weekend. I always have a good time, because I love to dance my butt off to the music I like, whether I get the attention or not. Some of my friends ridicule me because there is no guy who goes to dance clubs to just dance to the music. Its true, all I'm saying is that if you don't enjoy dancing to the music and the only thing you care about is getting lucky, you won't. Of course, there are exceptions. But the chances of you hooking up with someone every time is remote, if you carry that attitude.

Now, to the point. Always respect a woman's space. If you wanna dance with someone, don't rush into them and expect them to reciprocate. It doesn't work that way unless she's really drunk, in which case you'd be exploiting her instead of dancing with her. Try to stay in her vicinity, smile at her, make some eye contact. Get her used to your presence. Give her at least one song to figure out if she wants to dance with you; if she's not up for it, trust me, she'd be outta there before you know it. Sure, some girls do smile at you but when you walk upto them, they might not reciprocate. Yet, its all about taking chances and you're chances are much better if you approach her this way instead of trying an obsolete pick up line that'd take you nowhere.

A big hint for guys who stand in a corner, sipping your drink for ages before you finally muster the courage to step into the dance floor. Let go of it. That's the first, most obvious sign to women that you can't dance, you don't really enjoy the music and that you're scouting the crowd for the most vulnerable. Doesn't paint a good picture, does it? If you wanna grab a drink and take a break, go to the bar. Grab a seat somewhere and chill out. Don't stare at women while they dance and hope to get into the act after several captain & cokes help you find your balls.

Now, onto guys who think they've got it all. You see guys who're good looking, they can dance, sing along with every song and get anybody's attention. But this is what I've observed. Most of them are scared of failure. If you think you're "hotter" than most guys out there and you can't afford to be denied, you're better off playing poker with your mama in your basement. No guts, no glory. Think about it. Would you rather take a shot at having a great time dancing with someone or would you wait all night to be asked by some woman in the midst of her mid life crisis? The whole point of going to a dance club is to get lost in a different world, indulge in the music and let go of yourself. That is what they call "having a blast". If you can't get over your self conceit, close this window and move on.

Confidence. This is a huge, huge factor. You gotta remember this, nobody's perfect. I'm sure there'd have been a lot of situations where you'd have seen hot girls dancing with rather unattractive guys. Sure, you'd have told yourself that he's gotta be rich or he can dance or he's probably gay. Most of the times, you'd have been wrong. A little bit of confidence can take you a long way. When you walk upto someone, keep a smiling face and sound confident. If you're all nervous and you barely mumble 'hey, how about a dance?', she'll probably walk away the next second. Remember, the practice of asking someone for a dance is age old. That ain't cool anymore. Try to come up with something humorous or say anything that'll grab her attention and you're on. It may not take you anywhere, but she'd at least reciprocate to you and it might lead to things as opposed to her turning her back to you.

By the way, here's a bunch of things you could be doing, that would fall under "despicable behavior". In other words, "you should get your behind kicked for doing it" behavior.

If you approach a girl from behind, when she's really not aware of your presence and if you hang in there forever waiting for her to grind you, that's gross. Even if she does grind you, you're just a piece of meat and that's stooping to the lowest level, in my opinion.

If you approach a girl and if you hang around even after she clearly says she's not interested, you bring new meaning to the words "desparate loser". Get a life.

If you ask a girl if you can buy her a drink and if you expect her to make out with you because you spent money on her, you're just stupid. You should probably beat yourself with a shoe if you've done that.

If you're dancing with someone, you get physical, all of a sudden she leaves you and you get emotionally affected because of it, you're retarded. This is the last place where you expect people to be sane. So, do what you do and have a good time.

In conclusion, don't try to be someone you're not. Just go out there, do what you do and be cool. Learn to respect women; just because they drink, dance wild and cut loose at times doesn't mean they're slutty and they should accommodate any guy who wants to get wild with them. Girls have fun dancing with what, maybe a handful of the guys the whole night but they get badgered by at least dozens of desperate guys, some of whom can be rather obnoxious. So, give them space, give them respect, show some confidence and find your balls. Before you know it, you'd be waking up with stories to tell.

New year's eve at Times Square.

Where?
New York City, Broadway and 42nd, Times Square.

When?
New Year's eve, every year, for almost 100 years.

What?
A huge crystal ball drops down in the middle of time square when the clock strikes midnight at a speed of 80 ft in 6 seconds. Millions of confetti pieces falls on the crowd (almost 800,000 this year) from roof tops of buildings and the global tradition goes on..

What's the big deal?
I said it already. 500,000 to 800,000 ppl gather at Times Square every year to witness an event which is unparalleled in its grandiose. Nowhere else can you experience so much energy, excitement and anticipation. Being a part of it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience (you won't do it twice, unless you're crazy) and there's no new year's celebration that matches it anywhere else in the world.

What's the point?
Simple. Next time you hear people babble abt times square event, you go "been there, done that". It's like the Lord Of The Rings book. "There are two kinds of people on earth, those who've been to times square for new year's eve and those who haven't".

Why haven't you gone there yet?
1. You could be claustrophobic. Now that's a valid reason, if you're really claustrophobic, DON'T GO.
2. You fear the weather. That's valid too, but for me, it was worth seeing it in spite of a sub-zero experience. Also, it was 50F last year (2005 eve). It's not always cold, so fancy your chances. The fact that 800,000 ppl pack the streets also generates warmth, remember?
3. You think that its stupid to stand there for 5 to 10 hours to experience the ball drop for 2 mins. Well, if that's your attitude, Please watch it on television. It's not a couch-potato kinda thing.
4. You have no clue how to kill the time. Good point. Take a couple of decks of cards with you, some liquor in mountain dew/sprite bottles, board games if possible and an mp3 player if you're alone. If you can connect to the crowd around you and make pals, hours fly by.
5. You say "I'm going this year", every year. Procrastination is a loser's virtue.
6. You claim that you'd rather go to a nice, warm, cozy club where you can have fun. Trust me, the ppl you see there, in those clubs at NYC, are the ones who've already seen it.

My personal experience.

I went there for 2004 eve and had the time of my life. I stood there for 8 hrs, dehydrated, lost consciousness on my way back in the subway train and felt crappy the whole of next morning. But I swear it was worth it. Also, I was an idiot and I didn't plan for it. It was freezing out there and I hadn't eaten well, did not carry bottled water with me and I did not have good winter clothing. If you're well prepared, you can come out of times square with a smiling face. However, I had a bunch of scottish/american teens partying next to me and they gladly took me in. We sat down in the middle of the street, played cards, danced, sung and got drunk together and warmed each other up so we could stay alive for the ball drop. In spite of being a complete stranger, I was pampered with alcohol, offered gloves and a warmer jacket and a lot of support. Can you imagine squatting your ass down in the middle of times square, on the street, in the heart of new york city and partying with loads of people peering at you? I told myself that I was goddamned sure this was as crazy as it could get.

My suggestion:
Go there at around 6p.m. on new year's eve, get into a decent spot, make sure you take someone with you for company (a bunch of ppl would be awesome) and be prepared to handle the weather. Of course, you can't get out to buy food once you're in there, so pack some food, water, snacks and some bourbon ;) if possible. It won't be a let-down, I promise.

The grandiose of marriage

Sure, the matrix isn’t perfect. But we can do our bit to edge it closer to perfection and here’s how. If you’re an Indian, single and planning to get married in the near future, you’ll fit in here like a dream. We do have a problem with our Indian marriage system and I hope to address it here and get some sparks flying.

Every single day, thousands of Indians say “I do” over a 2-3 day grand celebration where they spend more money on flower decorations than it takes to build a frikkin’ elementary school, cater exquisite three course meals to a whole lot of people who they don’t even know and pay loads of cash to big fat iyers who chant mantras which they don’t understand. If we don’t think ahead and avoid this ridiculous waste of money which can be spent very, very constructively towards our society, what justification are we doing to our education??

Forget the lavish expenditure for a second and think about the bride’s parents. Isn’t it unfair that they have to save for the daughters’ marriages all their lives and become paupers by spending all that money on a marriage celebration? Sure, it’s their fault, not ours but think about it this way. If you had a daughter and if all of her friends’ marriages were as grand as hell, would you let your daughter’s marriage pale in comparison? The “system”, as it is, gives no option to the bride’s parents and they walk into a certain disaster by calling it a “sugamana sumai” (enjoyable burden).

Isn’t this just an indirect form of dowry, if you will? Sure, you’re not getting any dowry but what the hell’s up with the bride’s brother giving the guys watches, gold chains and gold rings? If that’s not dowry, what else is it? A pricey token of love from your brother-in-law? It happens even today in every single marriage and it happened at my brother’s marriage too. How about all the clothes (pattu veshties and pattu sattais) that the girls’ families give to the guys side? Oh wait, that’s just a friendly gesture, right?

Isn’t it high time that we changed this craziness? Think about how else you could spend that money. Think about how many kids you can educate if you donated even 10% of a typical marriage expense. You know what they say: “give a man a fish and you feed him today; teach a man how to fish and you feed him everyday”; why can’t we have simple marriages arranged at our residences with 15-20 people that matter the most to us and make our vows?

Honestly, how many of us know what “mangalyam thandhu nanena” means? How many of us know what “ammi midhithal and arundhadhi paarthal” means? Do we even care? NO!! Does it matter to you if you don’t have 2000 people eating food and wishing “long live this couple?” The truth is, most of the time, people just crib about the lack of pineapple rasam or the jamuns being too sweet. Does any of this extravaganza make sense to you?

If you’re thinking “its impossible to change the system”, I beg thee to open your eyes to the world around you. 10 years ago, if you had suggested online match making to your parents, they would have merely laughed at you; Today, thousands of people are finding their soul mates online. The days of “parisam pottufying” and “ponnu patthufying” is over too, at least in the metropolitan areas. The guy and the girl meet up informally and things proceed from there on. That’s how I’ll meet my fiancé, that’s how you’ll meet yours, I’m sure. The only thing that’s permanent is change, isn’t it?

Here’s the final word. Are we being non-conformist, idealistic beings in proposing this change? No!! Its our duty to make our society better instead of complaining about it. All we do is crib; we crib about corrupt politicians, poor traffic regulation, bribes, inequality to women, goondas ruling our cities, relatives who gossip, the weather and even lack of cleanliness but we aren’t doing much about it. This is the first step; take care of your home first and the country will take care of itself. If we eliminate silly traditions of this nature and do our bit towards providing education for the less fortunate, India would be a much better country.

You can call me a hypocrite and ask me why I’m sitting here in the US, instead of doing something to improve India. I am doing my part, I am donating whenever I can (not just on my birthdays) and I am rebelling at my home against this marriage ritual. Its not easy but my mom’s slowing giving in; With a little bit of effort, we can be the first generation to eliminate this absurdity and we all know its very, very possible to raise the red flag because our parents know that its our happiness that matters, ultimately.

Gosh, its almost time I thought about..

Marriage!!!

Ok, let’s start with a disclaimer. If you’re not of Indian origin (elephants & curries as Americans conceive us and not the Navajo Indian types), you won’t understand my ramblings even if you’re Yoda himself.

I'm gonna be 26 this month. All of a sudden, most of my friends are either engaged, married or looking to get married. I however wonder if single Indian guys are nowadays excited about getting married or do they conceive it as an unavoidable part of life that steals their freedom? By the way, you know what’s funny? I just saw an episode of ‘sex and the city’ and I can’t help but equate myself to Carrie, typing away columns about my life. Hmm, it is a bit gay but hey, this is the blogging era and I’m sure Mr. Keyes would agree ;) (word! word! Google for “Keyes, daughter, blog” if u don’t get it).

Given that I know more guys than girls, I see three kinds of guys when it comes to marriage. First kind; Guys who know their parents would find them a girl and they don’t have to move their asses. They know marriage is inevitable and they would be under serious pressure from their parents if they refused to marry before they become 29. They just succumb to it. Some of them would even agree to marriage after exchanging several phone calls. Second kind; Guys who are concerned to a certain extent about finding the right life partner and they hope to find a simple, honest partner with reasonable looks. This kind will put in some effort only to avoid marrying a totally incompatible girl. They know that if they fail, their parents will find someone anyway but they’d be happy that they at least tried. Third Kind, the minority; Guys who are actually excited (not worried) about marriage and try to know the girl that they might end up marrying. Of course, this does not include sleeping with her because we keep our jacks in the box until after marriage. These are guys who look forward to seeing the world anew with two more eyes and a totally different perspective. My kind.

To be honest, as much as I’m excited about marriage, I have to admit that my excitement is my fear. I fear that I may not end up finding the right person and that I’ll bow down to the undeniable “learn to love” ideology. The reason is, my mom’s already talking to me about marriage and she wants to start looking for a partner, for me. Her criteria for a good match would be a well educated, outgoing, well mannered girl with good looks (even average looks won’t suffice) who is talented in some form of art, be it singing, dancing or whatever else. I, on the other hand am more concerned about marrying someone who’ll relate to my way of life. I’m not saying I need someone who’ll party wild with me on Friday nights and watch football the whole of Sunday afternoon. But I expect her to know and adjust to the fact that a Cubs playoffs game would be more important to me than meeting with her distant cousin from the middle of nowhere. It’s just a matter of sharing the same wavelength, if you know what I mean.

I predict that just like my brother, my profile will be up on http://www.tamilmatrimony.com/ where if you searched for south Indian guys between 25 and 30 residing in the United States, you’d see countless profiles. Am I gonna be the candidate # 128509? Sure, my brother’s profile was on the same site and he married a wonderful person but his credentials are unbelievable. I’m sure my sister-in-law’s parents wouldn’t have touched base with my family if not for my brother’s impressive profile. My parents wouldn’t have followed it up either if not for my sister-in-law’s equally good profile. The matter of fact is, I want someone to marry me for who I am and not for my profile which would say I’m a 26 year old South Indian male with a Masters degree working in the US for a software company. Jeez, you can’t generalize me any more than that. Sure, I can list my hobbies and write a few lines about myself but that’s it. I’m sure that’s how my parents would start my bride hunting process. One good thing is, they have clearly expressed that even if I wanted to marry a mule, they’d be glad to support my decision. I’m totally lucky that they know that it’s my happiness that matters and they would stand by my choice.

So, will I find my wife to be my best friend, my confidante? Am I gonna be successful in finding the “One”? How much time do I have before my parents chew my brains out to get married? Will I have achieved my career based goals over the next few years by that time? The one thing I know for sure is this. My wife will be a pretty happy camper unless I catch her with the milkman :] If I find someone fun loving, I’m sure she’ll have a blast. If she’s anti social and usually kept to herself, we’re both screwed without a doubt. All the guys who’re about my age in my family are looking forward to my getting married just so they can see if my married life is gonna be as exciting and fun filled as I claim or if I’m gonna drown in the yet-another-mundane-couple sea.

Time holds the key to my destiny. I only hope that I will be showing this blog to my wife several years from now on my laptop, lying next to her just observing that she’s cute when she wears her reading glasses. Today would have become “one of those days when I was scared of marriage”. Maybe at this point, she’d stop to kiss me in the forehead and maybe joke “sorry I did the milkman” ;). Maybe she’d chide me affectionately for using abusive language and remind me to behave myself.