The Fuck-Up that is Language

Being Indian will definitely help one understand why language is such a fucked up thing. In North India at least, people get to speak Hindi in a larger area. Down here though, a bit west and it's Malayalam, a bit north and it's Kannada, a bit to this side is Telugu and a bit to that side is Tamil. 

But, why do we still keep enduring it? Today I read an article about lawyers who are on a hunger strike to enforce Tamil in the Madras High Court. What if the Judge does not understand Tamil? What if the defendant or the accused doesn't? I'm sure they forgot to ask themselves THAT question. Hence, shouldn't they ideally know BOTH languages?

Point is, I think all this comes down to the fact that we live in an age of linguistic chauvinism. Which in ways are related to regional chauvinism. Saw a friends status message the other day, saying that quite a large number of students in Maharashtra had failed in Marathi. She was asking the MNS what they had to say about it. Marathi language of course is the sole responsibility of the MNS last time we checked.


Have we all forgotten what language was meant for? To communicate wasn't it? Since when did it become a part of narrow minded identities? If I speak Malayalam, and you speak French (which I can't speak) will it really hurt to pick up each other's language? 

Is picking up a language being a slave to it, or the region from in which it was born? Is it somehow construed as bowing down to their culture and accepting that they're better than us?

I think, we should take a relatively easy, relatively not popular language, and introduce it into schools across the world. A language which the Whites did not use to advance Colonialism, or the West used to advance Globalization, or which 'primitives' speak. It might be hard to find, but I'm sure there should be one such language. 

Yes, a compromise on language. When these kids grow up, across the world, there will be one language that everybody can speak. And hopefully, nobody's ego will hurt. 

By the way, I'm just thinking out loud here, but, how difficult is to invent a language?

(Image Courtesy: IndianMirror.com)

One Mallu CAN make a difference!

What have the true stories of Spiderman, Batman, Superman and Wonderwoman taught us? 
That superheroes dress so gay? Yes, you're right. But besides that, they've also taught us that one man/woman CAN make a difference, and so totally kick ass at it. (which reminds me, MUST check out this movie).


Now, I don't have radioactive spiders, Kryptonite or power-hungry freaks in my life. Oh wait, I do have power-hungry freaks in my life, but they're not as irritating as warrants an ass-kicking. 


What though is irritating me most these days is riding in Chennai. Chennai has a different set of riding/driving etiquette(or lacks it rather!) that just gets on my nerves. Hence I figured someone should do something about it. 


Point number 1:
In Cochin, where I come from, if you're stranded somewhere with no bus, no auto fare and no friends to pick you up, what do you do? You stick your hand out and ask someone for a ride. And you get one too, guaranteed! 



In Chennai though, NEVER have I seen anybody offering a hitchhiker a ride. Not that nobody asks for it. People just don't stop. And may I add, it's very rude to the hitchhiker if you blow by and pretend that you did not see anything. I have had it done to me before on countless times, trust me. 



Point number 2:
Why can't these Coco Cola (another word for which is __) sucking bastards NEVER use their dim lights? You perfect-eyesight-fucks might not realize it, but especially people with glasses are effectively rendered blind when you shine your high-ass-beam at their eyeballs. 
Combined damage as a result of your high beams is me having to replace my bike's shocks after falling into too many holes. 


The Campaign
They say one man can't make a difference, huh? So be it. They were probably right, but I'm still gonna try my hand at reforming these manner-less pigs of drivers. 


Point number 1 shall be addressed by giving rides to anybody who asks for it, anywhere anytime. As of now, I don't intend to force anybody else to give rides, but hopefully the example will suffice. If you see a 6foot4 guy on a Midnight Blue/Skyblue Splendor with Kerala plates, and if you need a ride, don't hesitate to stick your hand out! :D


Point number 2 shall be addressed by a combination of hand-signals and shouting. On a dark night (or not), if you see a tall rider approaching from the opposite side, and making hand gestures (opening and closing palm) combined with a fair bit of shouting, which, even though he whooshed by, sounded a lot like "Fyakyoomadafakkaaa..", then, he was not commenting on  your wife's boobs (which may or may not be good), he was just asking you to switch to your dim lights once in a while. 

Heh! They say one man can't make any difference? I'll show them what one Mallu on a '99 Hero Honda Splendor can do!

(Images Courtesy: maniactive.com, zcache.com)

The Dilemma of Weather

This is as much a poll as it is a post. I have a question to ask. How many of you have been happy with the weather for a period longer than, say a week? Or a month?

I don't know if it's exclusively a Chennai phenomenon or not. But it seems that I'm incapable of being happy about the weather for more than two days at most.

After a grueling summer, which included endless traffic at noon and buckets full of sweat, the words on everybody's lips ranged from 'respite' to 'rain' to 'mercy' to 'Sambar'. (Yes, that last word has nothing to do with weather. But this is Chennai you know! We love our Sambar!)


I was no different. I wanted to ride through Anna Salai at noon and not feel sorry about it. I wanted to drink less than 10 gallons of water everyday. I wanted to not dread power cuts and not depend on ACs (which I don't own).

And then it finally rained in Chennai on Sunday. I was happy. I got drenched a bit. Everybody was smiling. It was almost like it was wine, not water that was falling from the Sky.

Yet.

Today it rained again. I'm no longer happy.

Because it means:
1. Now I've to make my way through endless roads streaked with puddles, of which some are capable of drowning a full grown man.

2. Riding is no longer that much fun. It's cold. You've to pull on raincoats (Which I haven't bought yet). And it's not fun to get drenched and then go freeze your ass off in the office AC.

3. You don't feel like getting out of bed anymore. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but considering this is only my second week at a new job, I'm thinking it's a bad thing.

Anyhow, I suppose this is just a passing shower. Soon, November shall come. (sigh)

(Images Courtesy: Cj.Ibnlive.com.in, chennaiplus.net)