Monthly Archives: August 2012
Posted by Anmol Jani
this article is not written by me but i was very much inspired to tell you guys the good parts. So, I’m posting this on 15th August, the Indian Independence day. Dont take it too seriously, if you expect this article to be patriotic then I’m SORRY!
India, the world’s biggest democrazy, is an Asian mishmash composed of dirt, swamp, sparks, haze, spice, mind, ignorance, enlightenment, bliss, discrimination and egos all wrapped tightly in the void. It is an ancient conch-shell shaped land-mass surrounded by Pakistan to the West, Bangladesh to the East, China to the North East, Nepal to the North, Sri Lanka to the South, the Bay of Bengal to the West, with the smog above, the dead ancestors below, and which is directly accessible from most anywhere by foot.
Capital of India: New Delay.
Official language of India: Hinglish, Hindi, Urdu, Marathi, Bengali, Sanskrit, plus 7243 colloquial dialects.
Government of India: None. Utter mother flipping chaos!
Declaration of Independence: still struggling.
Currency: Cow, Dung, Rupee.
Religion: But, of course.
Creation start date: Eternity. In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was OM. Using this sexy little symbol the Supreme Being conjured up the material existence in one colossal big bag which resulted in matter infused with spirits and vise versa. Actually it is a bit more complex than that. God sprouted a lotus from his navel and from there sprang forth Brahma, the created creator. Brahma looked all around and could only see water. So he thought WTF? And proceeded to torture himself so severely that God appeared before him and asked WTF? Brahma told God that he wanted to do his thing, but just plain forgot. With that God cast his casual-glance upon Brahma and thence forth appeared Grade A “Potli”. Brahma immediately drank some “Potli” and got so intoxicated that he had it all figured out, where upon he created India. As the ions passed many alien-incarnations appeared to try and talk sense into the dinosaurs, but it wasn’t until an alien shagged a dinosaur, whose off-spring in turn impregnated a monkey, that the DNA of man & women appeared from the muck and populated the land.
The British lads, obsessed as they were with a New World Order, saw India and decided they wanted it. Oy Vey! It was theirs for the taking. And the plunder began. This led to poverty among the monkey men which persisted until one bald man took over. The Mahatma said that monkey men must not fight for independence, rather they should strike for independence. His idea was that this would confuse the British, even though they were all employed by the British. The plan worked, and ended up not only confusing the British but even the Indians themselves who got fired from their jobs, leaving them all unemployed, ending up in even greater poverty.
The biggest problem that this bald man did not anticipate was that India, being a subcontinent of billions of everything, would go on to want independence from itself as well. Apparently a common interest in all things curry was not enough to unite a nation or maintain peace with neighboring states. There was only one solution, something that has kept the Indians united and reduced the number of casualties from fighting across the meaningless man-made borders separating village from water source, home from outhouse, and temple from gurudwara. Of course the mystical answer was Bollywood. It doesn’t matter what caste, religion, language or culture the modern Indian hails from, absolutely no one with a TV could be bothered fighting when they could tune into the constant stream of low budget cinema being beamed into their cow-dung encrusted slums.
In India if you want any one to work for you then you actually have to pay them. Yes, it is quite shocking. Such misbehaviour and naked greed were unthinkable in the non-Indian world. Imagine, in the land of India you actually have to pay to play. What more needs to be said about corruption. Better to stay home and wash your own dishes in India.
When not being discriminated by any foreign power, the caste system exists which allows the Indian populace to discriminate against each other. This is called Varna-dharma or the shit-list. People in India are classified as either a godman (Brahmin), a bully (Kshatriya), a merchant (Vaisya), or a dirt bag (Sudra). And this is NOT based on birth-right. It is based solely on manifest qualities or lack thereof, viz., birth-wrong.
Humor, although non-existent in India, never-the-less does exist there. And rather than bore you with genres, an example Indian joke should suffice to establish that India is no laughing matter. Once upon a time a poor Indian farmer in Bihar was trying to plant an egg farm. The fellow planted eggs and watered then, day after day, but all to no avail. So the farmer went to the government office to complain. After meeting with one Indian bureaucrat and telling his story he was advised that nothing could be done without a soil sample. Case closed.
Indians eat spice. They drink spice, smoke spice, sweat spice, fart spice, and even shit spice. Sometimes if you order it specially you can get food intermixed with all these spices, but you must insist on it while ordering in public restaurants.
Indian food comes in two different dishes, basically containing the same ingredients, curry, and matter. Combined with the 2,375 different flavours of spice though, an Indian dinner can be combined in 10 ^ 87 different ways, giving more tastes than there are taste buds in the mouth. This makes all Indian food end up in tasting unusually spicy, since what the taste buds can detect are basically nuked by all the manifold sensations attacking them.
As you can’t write or do mathematics without something to write with, the primary export of India is ink, which is produced in massive quantities by the Indian held megacorporation India Inc. for worldwide export. This makes India one of the world’s most powerful countries — if Indians wanted, they could render all printers obsolete.
Some profane minds that fancy eating beef have conjectured elsewhere that the reason behind the phenomenal explosion of the cow population in India is because Indians do not eat cows. That’s like saying that the reason behind the exponential growth of humans in India is because cows do not eat humans; or are too busy taking calls from mindless, frustrated Americans; or too busy building the digital cow milking machine for future generations who are too busy breathing in and out.
A large part of the Indian economy is dependent on Mumbai and Bollywood. It is also dependent on a small workers, otherwise known as children in other parts of the world. All volunteer to leave boring school to work 24/7 to supply clothes to rich people who only buy designer garments with the label ‘Hand Woven’ on them.
Not satisfied with merely inventing writing and mathematics, Indians took their combined love of communication, their numerous Gods and their love lives, and their love of partying, and creating the most powerful art form that exists today: Bollywood movies.
Bollywood is a very popular film industry and is as popular as Hollywood and is known all over India. They make the worst films in the world. A film is released every 15 minutes. There are no topics in Bollywod movies except for stupid love stories in which uncultured, undisciplined actresses dance shaking their 50 inch booties to the hollow tint of prerecorded music, replete with the sounds of gunfire.
Virtually everyone watches them, including lesbian high school girls and over-sized, middle-aged, old-age housewives. The primary reason for the continuation of the boom in the cinema industry in India is that it’s cheaper to pay to sleep in the cool confines of a cinema hall than to pay to crash in a hotel for up to Rs. 3.
Bollywood is also a pastime for Indians. It was invented by Reena Malhotra, a woman who was born with elephantiasis in Kolkata and who sold postcards in Mumbai. It is believed that she asked her rich uncle for a loan on her 18th birthday and got enrolled in an Academy for Visual Arts. Somehow she learned something there to someway return to Mumbai to sometime start Bollywood. All the rest is fiction.
According to a famous film critic, who says this on the condition of anonymity fearing murder, until recently Bollywood denied the existence of sex. Any and every intimate scene, if ever it passed the censor boards, was depicted by two flowers rubbing against each other with their private areas blurred out. The censored rape scenes involved thunder and lightning or huge tidal waves hitting the rocks.