My Elections Story - I

Being the socially aware, India-loving Indian that I am, I wanted to make sure I vote this time; I missed out during the last general elections as I was a few months short of 18. I was heartbroken. It may seem that my favourite figure of speech is the hyperbole but the fact that I was not eligible to vote made it look as if I was a lesser citizen. At least in my head! But anyway, I did manage to register myself in my constituency in the nick of time. I say nick of time because JaagoRe.com took me for a ride! Now someone would ask me how? Well those Vote do! Vote do! Guys went around promising everyone that they would make he registration process hassle-free, claiming that their website generated form would mention the nearest Election Registration Office (ERO) of the aspiring voter’s area. I thought this was cool and fill up my form on their site. Those bozos did not mention my ERO. Damn! Now why would I waste my time on a website just to get a filled form that I could have filled myself! I searched http://google.com/ for the ERO of Thane city. I found the number. The voice on the other said that I was calling the Customs office! This happened too many times. I gave up. I then inquired around my neighbourhood if someone had any clue as to whom to approach with regards to exercising my franchise. Here I was a victim of rumours. The registration it seems was going on at two places – Dadoji Kondev Stadium ad Saraswati School. Both places had stopped accepting forms they told me. I nearly went ballistic. I was going to be left out once again. I landed a job shortly and my outrage took a backseat. But it did not die out. Then I read a wonderful report in Hindutan Times. It told me that forms would be accepted till April fool’s Day, 2009 that the office of the ERO could be found on http://ceo.maharashtra.gov.in/ . There was a ray of light; it brought light to my gloomy chamber of electoral despair. It was like finding an oasis in a bone dry desert. I was in 7th heaven. I got my act together. I found the ERO of Thane city and spoke to an official there. They told me that forms were being accepted at DADOJI KONDEV STADIUM! The same place where work had supposedly ended. Mon submitted my sister’s and my form over there. We are told that we won’t get our Voter ID card but will be able to vote if we have other identity proofs. Mission accomplished.

I am finally going to vote.
Three cheers for the world's largest democracy! Hip Hip Hurray!

P.S.:
1. I have no clue as to whom am I going to vote for. I think I’ll just do an “Inky Pinky Ponky, Daddy had a donkey” in the voting booth and decide!
2. To its credit, Jaago Re campaign has done commendable work to spread awareness amongst the 18 to 30 age group.

Prank

I once had casually called up my best friend, but I received a shock when I reached the wrong number. At that point of time, I believed that cross connections were not possible on mobile networks. This is how the affair took place.

I dialled 9820098200.

Me: Hello Tejaswini.

Voice at the other end: Tejaswini? This is Manoj Tiwari’s number.

Stunned, I apologized and hung up.

I dialled the number again.

Me: Hello Tejaswini?

Voice at the other end: Wrong number this is Anush Parekh’s number.

Now I was feeling jittery. I was sure I had dialed the correct number. I made a third attempt.

Me: Hello Tejaswini?

Voice at the other end: No. This is Rohan Dasgupta.

I hung up, nearly convinced that the world had gone mad. Sense dwelled upon me in a few seconds and I had the saner thought that the Dolphin network might have gone barmy.

I was slightly on the edge. I simply couldn’t fathom the fact that I was unable to reach my best friend’s cell number. I called up her boyfriend.

Me: Hello Arvind?

Arvind: Hi Natalia. Bolo, how are you?

Me: Arre, what is Tejaswini’s mobile number?

Arvind: (in a tone that expressed surprise and the obviousness of the answer) 9820098200. Are you ok? What happened?

Me: I have been dialling this number but a man is answering the call.

Arvind: No way! I am the only man in her life!

Me: Thanks for clarifying your status in her life but I don’t know what’s happening!

Arvind: Hey chill, she is at a friend’s place for some project work. Someone must be fooling around with her cell.

Me: Oh ok. Thanks I’ll try again. Bye.

Arvind: Bye.

This time I had got smarter. I dialled her number again but from my Mom’s cell.

Me: Hello, May I speak to Kumodini Agrawal?

Voice at the other end: This is Tejaswini’s number.

Me: Very good. Give her the phone!



P.S.: The mobile number used here is that of the Vodafone India helpline to prevent any trouble Bye!

Gluttony and the Laws of Economics

I am a food-lover. So is my friend a gourmet. Our love for good food goes to such heights that we don’t care a toss about customs and traditions when it comes to our gustatory preferences. Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday are all fine for devouring all types of foodstuff inclusive of non-vegetarian fare. Every morsel of food is religiously chewed 32 times to enjoy the taste and nutritional benefits to the hilt. Fasting is a vice in our book. Prolonged dialogues on the pleasures of food, especially chocolates are a ritual. I can eat chocolates non-stop . CadburyFlake and Ferrero Rocher top my list. In my opinion, 1920 was the most important and eventful year of the 20th century as that was the year Cadbury launched Cadburyflake.

We have another friend who shares this trait of ours. Regrettably, this friend is a glutton. This guy shows absolutely no interest whatsoever in taking pleasure in the finer aspects of food, savouring the different flavours of the spices that linger on your tongue and enjoying the immense psychological delights that food provides us. All he seems to understand is wolfing down gargantuan portions of food and assumes that being a connoisseur of good food is equivalent gobbling down larger and larger quantities of food and drinks. It completely beats the point of culinary pursuits. He eats like a pig, stuffing his face on every edible thing in sight ; he eats humongous quantities of fast food , has an unquenchable thirst for soft drinks and commits the cardinal sin of likening junk food with delicious delights. That he is a dipsomaniac does not deserver special mention. He boasts that no amounts of alcohol can have any effect on the ability of his cerebrum and cerebellum to work in tandem with each other. Policemen around the planet will undeniably disagree with him and medical practitioners may consider this claim as a subject worth researching. I am willing to bet insane sums of money on his liver being as greasy as that of a duck destined to descend on our dishes as Foie gras. Well, to put it simply he celebrates the New Year 365 days of the year!

We had once collectively tried to drill sense into that part of his central nervous system that includes all his higher nervous centres; enclosed within the skull; continuous with the spinal cord i.e. his head. My friend attempted to bring about a change of the locus of feelings and intuitions i.e. heart. The timing was wrong. We were having a golgappa munching session. She first sought the support of scientific statements. She commenced her sermon by elucidating how his excessive food consumption could lead to hypertension, diabetes, cardiac complications, stomach ulcers, arteriosclerosis and every possible lifestyle disease that she had committed to memory. He rubbished her monologue retorting that he was convinced that scientists publish such gobbledygook simply because they do not have better alternatives for disposing off their research grants and doctors uphold these claims because they derive sadistic satisfaction by scaring all souls in sight. Result = zilch. It was now his turn to launch into a discourse about why and how he would never quit eating and drinking the way he does as he believed that he wanted to die a happy man, happy because he ate and drank to his heart’s content.

My objection to his elephantine consumption was more on the basis of economics. I told my friend to leave him in peace. My friend and I have studied economics. The gluttonous creature has not.

Me: Forget it. He won’t understand. Let’s wait till the marginal utility of all that he consumes hits zero and then becomes negative. It has to.

Friend: Yup you are right. The marginal utility has to hit zero, then it will become negative and finally he will suffer from something!

Gluttonous friend: What do you mean? (Chomping on golgappas)

Me: I think it’s not his fault. The Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility does not work in his case!

Me and Friend:

Gluttonous Friend:


I had, economically speaking, proved him abnormal.

Suicidally curious

We are told that curiosity killed the cat. Well I don’t know which cat but a few years ago, my little brother was well on his way to join that cat. As an eight year old, he was very cute, sweet and always enormously curious to know what his elder sisters were up to. I was in class ten at that point of time. Often, he would join me while I was studying; snuggle into my arms while I would read my textbooks. He would always be intent on reading my texts. He never managed to sustain his enthusiasm beyond two paragraphs at the most but I guess he would get a kick by reading out of a 10^th standard textbook while he was himself in class 3.

On fine day, he joined me while I was reading up the Science 1 (Physics and Chemistry) texts. He started reading as usual. That paragraph enumerated the precautions to be taken while handing electronic equipment. He had learnt for the first time that handling electronic equipments with wet hands can cause a shock; that we must wear rubber slippers or gloves while using such machines and especially electric sockets, etc. he asked if all that was true. I replied in the affirmative. He wanted to know what a shock was. I told him that it can cause a seizure (I faked one to explain what it may look like), burns and a heart attack which means that our heart stops working abruptly. He nodded seriously and went off to play as usual.

Three days later, in the morning, after he had had his bath, he was madly calling out my name from the bathroom. I thought he had forgotten his towel. When I went to look, this little devil already had a towel wrapped around him. I asked him what the matter was. The conversation that followed went something like this.

Brother: I am going to tell Mom to take you out of school. There is no need for you to go to school. They teach you nonsense in class 10.

I was stunned to witness my education being questioned.

Me: Why? What happened?

Brother: Come in. (Pointing to the bathroom)

Before I could even understand what was happening, he splashed handful water on the switchboard and turned on and switched off the switch for the geyser.

Brother: You see, your textbook is wrong, the switchboard was wet, my hands were wet, I am not wearing rubber slippers, I touched the switched board and I did not suffer a shock, neither did I die. I am still alive.

I rolled my eyes in disbelief. He actually checked whether he would be killed!

I understood my mistake and patiently explained what insulators were. It then seemed to dawn upon him why he was yet alive.

A Hairy Tale

Friend: Hi Natalia!

Me: Hi! Howz life?

Friend: Bad.

Me: What happened? Did you put up a few kilos? You seem to be in good shape.

Friend: No re! Stop kidding! I have a problem.

Me: Oh! If it is not weight, then it must be a boy.

Friend: Are you a mind reader or what?

Me: Nope. I am experienced. That expression on your face says that you are pining for your Prince Charming but you never told me that you have a guy.

Friend: That is because I don’t have one. I started liking one recently. But…

Me: He doesn’t notice you, doesn’t seem to be interested in you. Oh he doesn’t look at you!

Friend: (sarcastically) Thank you for completing my sentence. So what should I do now? How do I get him to at least look at me?

Me: Hey I am not a love guru nor am I an agony aunt.

Friend: Natalia help!

Me: (Sensing danger) Ok Ok. Let me think. Hey you have nice long hair.

Friend: Thank you for the compliment but how does that help me?

Me: Move around with your hair open when he is around. That will help you definitely.

Friend: How do you know? That advice sounds silly to me!

Me: You are a bad observer. Boys love girls with their hair open.

Friend: How do you know? Tell me that first!

Me: Haven’t you seen that Parachute Coconut Hair oil ad, with the jingle Gorgeous Hameshaa (Forever)?

Friend: So?

Me: That ad is from a man’s point of view. It’s a man singing about his favorite girl/ woman or maybe wife or girlfriend. It’s very different from other hair product ads which always extol the virtues of Shampoo X or Hair oil Y or Hair Colour Z! And those ads always have women talking about the benefits of the product. The Gorgeous Hameshaa campaign is different; it’s about a guy admiring his girl doing different things with her hair. Many of the women in that ad are with their hair open. That means that men prefer their women with their hair open. Women with long flowing hair excite men. I am sure!

Friend: You sure? Serious?

Me: Yup. I think open hair would work better than a low-cut T-shirt anyway!

Friend: Yuck. Stop joking! I am serious.

Me: Thousand apologies! (With folded hands, she was offended)

Friend: So tomorrow, while he will be hanging around the canteen during recess, I go there with my hair open, all prep and proper. He is generally there with his friends. I hope he notices me and likes me. We might even be able to get to the point of talking in a few weeks.

Me: Oh! (Sneakily) But let me warn you, even his friends will be excited if they see you like that. Open hair excites all men. By the way, excitement in such cases generally means an erection.

Friend: (Furiously) NATALIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At that point, I ran for my life.

It’s Raining Men, Hallelujah!

My friend: Tell me Natalia, have you ever seriously loved a guy?

Me: Yup. Next?

My friend: Just one guy?

Me: Hmm, nope, wait let me count them.

My friend: You're joking! Are you nuts?

Me: Nope, I seem to have a weird fortune with guys. Every time I like one I find out that he already likes or is dating someone else! Crazy isn’t it? But anyway, they were more like big crushes!

My friend: (Giggles) so tell me, how do you cope up in a situation like this? Can you just move on?

Me: Absolutely! Why should I create trouble for myself and the guy? It can get complicated. And besides, there is no harm if one guy doesn’t like you. India is full of men. Our predecessors have ensured that. They never wanted a situation where girls would have trouble finding dates!

My friend: Explain, explain! What do you mean by that?

Me: Well you see the sex ratio of India is 927 females per 1000 males. That means a surplus of 73 boys! So if I don’t get one guy, I know I still have 73 waiting in the line for me! Yipee!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My friend: Natalia you seriously are weird! And what if you don’t find a match even amongst them?

Natalia: No, problems! I shall simply register myself on http://www.bharatmatrimony.com/ or http://www.shaadi.com/ . «Invited groom for tall, FAIR, educated girl, slim, whatever will be my age/ 5’4”, working from educated family, teetotaller, non-smoker, non-vegetarian. Caste no bar. » The moment people read the word 'fair', I shall be flooded with offers! No problems at all. I assure you, someone or the other will like me that way. But I pray to God that I don’t ever feel the need to register myself on those matrimonial sites! I am not an uninteresting character at all!

My friend: Hey of course you are not! We are just imagining some hypothetical situations. (Gleefully) It’s bad for the boys! I pity them. They don’t have as much as choice as we girls do.

Me: Oh no! Not at all! They can always go to Russia, Japan, and many other East European countries! All those places have more women than men! In fact the last time I read about it, there were 884 males per 1000 females in Russia and 1040 females per 1000 males in Japan! So boys need not worry at all. However, their families would! I wonder how most Indian families would react to their sons bringing home a European bahu (daughter-in-law)! The guy gets past caste, language and nationality barriers in one clean sweep! Globalisation at its best.