Fetymology

Note: Foul language used. Foul thought patterns employed.

Today, children, we shall study languages. Of course, we will study it Pitendencies style! Cut to this music. Anyway, i am here to educate two kinds of people today:

1. Indians who aren't too familiar with hindi.

2. Indians who are familiar with hindi but do not know what i'm about to tell them.

3. People who aren't Indians, or struggle to come to terms with what the word 'Hindi' means. It's a language, you fucks. Indians don't speak Indian. Much like the Chinese don't speak Chinese, and the Russians Russian (Intentional). I hate racism or stereotypes. *Sincere face*.

Okay, 3 kinds of people.

Anyway, here goes:

In Hindi, there exists a simple saying that goes like:

"Iski to Maa Behen ho gayee".

It is basically the Hindi equivalent of "This is fucked", or "It's a gone case". You get the idea. Anyway, interpreted directly, the saying means this: "The mother has become the sister".

The Etymology:

There exists this prevalent attitude within Indians to judge all that is not their culture. Any deviation from the prevalent Indian culture at the time will be looked down upon. And Indians don't just look down on things. They snort with disgust and ensure that the aforementioned snot finds its way to the source of the disgust. After which they shall spit on the same source, and bitch about the topic at every tea party for the rest of their lives. Anyway, the story behind the source of the saying is as follows:

There lived a fair-skin-toned Iranian family in the interiors of Gujurat. As we all know, the Iranians came down to India and settled here, eventually becoming what we currently know as Parsis. As you may or may not know, the Parsis are staunchly ethnocentric. What i think this means is that they believe in their own community. That's putting it mildly. Parsis do not marry outside their community. And when the community is so small, some distant cousins are bound to end up married. Distant soon became close. And close soon became 'brother', but moving on. This Iranian family in Gujarat branched out over the generations, until they had about 3 families living in the village. Let's call them family A, B and C; all blood related. The daughter of family A was about the same age as the son of family B. They had been friends since childhood, and the Iranian parents were happy, encouraging them to grow closer. Sure enough, these two got married, and the marriage was celebrated in much fanfare in the village-on-interiors-of-Gujarat. Until, of course the villagers found out that, due to some bizarre misunderstanding, the couple were actually aunt and nephew. So the son married his aunt, thereby making his own mother his sister-in-law. Hence, his mother had become his sister. "Iski to maa behen ho gayi". This was unacceptable.

And thus the phrase was invented. The end.

PS: False Etymology, in case you didn't get that. Fool's Garden - Lemon Tree; Pain of Salvation - Sleeping with the stars; Avial - Aadu Pambe.

An Incomplete Story That Also Happens To Be Non-Fiction

Before i begin to tell you about how i'd like to begin my post, i'd like to take a minute of your time. You've all heard this name before: 'Sean'. It's pronounced like so: 'Shaun'. I'd like you, the reader, to repeat this name thrice to yourself. After you have done this, proceed to the next line. PROCEED ONLY AFTER OBEYING THE SAID INSTRUCTIONS.

Good, now the name 'Sean' has entered your subconscious. Remember, if at any point of time in your life, you feel the urge to have sex with, or even just kiss anyone called 'Sean', act upon it. You won't be sorry. Thank you for your minute, and back to the post you go:

I'd like to begin this post by telling you that i will first take a bit of your time and relate a certain incident that happened to me yesterday. After the incident and the analysis of the incident, i will take a bit more of your time. But let's not get into that. Anyway.

The Incident

Yesterday morning, i woke up with a heavy head and an even heavier heart. On my agenda for the day were 2 dreaded plans:

Plan 1: I had to go back to my college to talk to my professor and sort my final years marksheet issue (Another story for another time). This would be at around 11am, and i expected it to go on till about 1pm at the latest.

Plan 2: I had to go to a friends place halfway across the city to pick something up; which meant i'd have to avail of certain facilities that i'd rather not avail of-rickshaws, taxis and trains. This was scheduled to be immediately after Plan 1.

Of course, being the prat that i am, i procrastinated and ended up being at college at precisely 1.30pm. I finished my stupid meeting, and set out to catch a train to the friends place. I got into the train, sat for about 25 minutes, and then got off at my desired destination. From that station, i proceeded towards the queue for the rickshaws. Unfortunately, there were no rickshaws. So after waiting for about 20 minutes, i decided to walk. Halfway to my friends house, i managed to get a rickshaw. I reached in 5 minutes and stayed for another 45; after which i set off on my return journey. At this point, let me tell you that it was now raining heavily, and i was sure i'd face the same rickshaw problem. Sure enough, i did. After waiting for 15 minutes, i spotted this lonely modern cab. In Mumbai, there are 2 distinct kinds (more like, varieties) of cabs:

a) The traditional Premier Padminis, or the Fiats, as they are lovingly called. These form an overwhelming majority of the cab population of my city.

b) The comparatively modern cabs, which are faster, more sleek, more cost efficient as a result of being more fuel efficient and the drivers aren't that cranky. As you've already guessed by now, the ratio of modern cabs to Fiats is similar to the ratio of the followers of the Baha'i faith to followers of other faiths in India.

Because of that fact, modern cabs are much more identifiable. So therefore, if you leave your cell phone in one and realize only a few short minutes after it happened, chances are that you'll find the same cab in the same spot, the driver waiting for you with your cell phone in his hand and a smile upon his face. Not true.

Yes, that's how i choose to end that story.

PS: Pain Of Salvation - Marticus Nauticus II; John Scofield - Hottentot; Avial - Aadu Pambe; Mute Math - Chaos. Just in case you were wondering what the point of the first two paragraphs were, remember this: 'Sean'.

Sharpening The Resolution

I've always scoffed philosophy and non-fiction. As a sarcasm loving un-serious indivisual who revels in slapstick humour and it's derivatives, i seriously under appreciate these things (Philosophy and non-fiction). I've always perceived them as boring and uninteresting albeit useful for old ladies and mid life crisis sufferers. More importantly, i've always considered myself as not the target audience to which these things are advertised to/portrayed towards.

I now realize and understand firstly, the semi-truthfulness of my beliefs and secondly, the narrow viewpoint with which i look at things. With my now broadened perspective, i have come to realize that although most non-fiction is hypocritical, sleazy and a business for money laundering (in my opinion), to change the way one looks at it, one must change one's personal viewpoint. I see non-fiction and philosophy writers not as those eager to spread their views and learnings but as those who choose to make a profit out of it. Both of these facts may be true, or they may be false. These writers may choose to eagerly spread their acquired knowledge, but the true purpose isn't an altruistic one. In fact, reward doesn't even feature in the cognitive process involved.

Non-fiction, as i now see it is a form of self-clarification. With philosophy, one can essentially create the ground rules based on which the new thought pattern/knowledge application will be based. It is nothing more or less than a rule book of your 'philosophy'. It is not meant to be read by anyone else, and the experience of writing about it, of clarifying the thoughts in your own head, of putting your thoughts cohesively on paper is equal to increasing the sharpness on ones TV from 10 to 100. You may be quite clear about your so called 'philosophy' at level 10, but once level 100 is reached, it is concrete.

Of course, i still very much hate non-fiction, philosophy and their derivatives, but i understand the writer's point of view. Just for clarification (!), when i say writer, i mean author.

I just saw Episode 8 of Season 4 of Heroes, and it sparked off a chain of thought in my head that i cannot seem to comprehend right now. All i know is that my new found understanding is directly related to the way that Heroes is made, and for this, i am grateful. From the point of view of the Heroes audience, the last episode took us back to Season 1, but made it more like Season 1 5000. I'm pretty sure the viewer ship will drop after this episode, and i'm even more positive that critics will pan it for choosing the particular story arc. Heroes, from the very beginning has shown it's roots not in superpowers and their display, but the relation of all events to two things at different levels:

1. At a lower level, the relation of all events to the time-space continuum, as 'we humans' choose to call it.

2. At a higher level, the relation of all events to destiny; and the influence of destiny on peoples life patterns and choices.

For me, this is what differentiates Heroes from X-Men or any other superhero tripe that the world can throw at us.

PS: I love the 'tripe'. Really, i do.