The Great Indian Celebration

"Marriages might be made in heaven, but they create hell here on earth," said a friend of mine.

He had recently suffered an exceptionally severe bout of his old asthma. When his usual medicines proved ineffective, he decided to drive over to his doctor's clinic to get some urgent attention. On his way he had to pass through a marketplace, which is usually quite congested. That day however, the traffic was barely crawling. He rolled up the car windows to escape the exhaust fumes from the other vehicles, but felt himself suffocating in the resulting closeness. It took him about an hour to clear out of the jam, and each moment he felt could be his last. Luckily he was able to catch hold of the doctor just as he was about to close the clinic, and his life was saved. That traffic jam had been caused by a marriage procession (baraat), and today he was ranting against this very Indian custom.

"Why don't people realize how much they are inconveniencing others while they dance foolishly on the streets? I could have lost my life that day. These stupid marriage processions should be banned," was his fervent opinion.

Of course I couldn't agree with him on this point. I've heard similar arguments on this subject from many people - that baraats create noise pollution with their cacophonous bands, they also cause air pollution from the crackers that explode on the streets, and that thousands and possibly lakhs of rupees worth of petrol is wasted as traffic comes to a virtual standstill during the snail-like pace of the procession through the streets. But all these arguments I find specious and besides the point.

Firstly, marriage is the most important element of the great Indian dream. Everyone in India gets married; so what if he is a pauper and cannot support a family? It is our great philosophy to do the deed (in life or in bed) and not bother about its fruits - and besides in a welfare state, it is the duty of the government to take care of the poor and their children. Mothers marry off their drunkard sons in the hope of reforming them, though mostly after marriage the son starts drinking even harder, presumably to gather the courage for the noble task of beating his wife black and blue, a feat he wouldn't dare to attempt in a sober state. Our glorious historical texts are also replete with incidences of impotent princes being married off to beautiful princesses by doting parents, who later employ the benign services of altruistic rishis to bless the marriage with its fruition.

So if marriage is so important to us Indians, shouldn't we celebrate it with as much gay abandon as we can? So what if a few thousand people are inconvenienced by it for a few hours? It is possible that someone like my friend may be in an emergency situation and may even be unfortunate enough to lose his/her life, but isn't it desirable to try and bring down the population of our country? Admittedly causing the death of a couple of persons isn't such a big deal, but shouldn't we all try and do our bit for the sake of our glorious country? After all its the tiny drops that gang up to form the mighty ocean.

Also marriages are the only occasions where we can display our garish tastes in clothes and jewelery. Ladies lie to their husbands and scrounge tit-bits from the monthly budget to buy silk saris and gold for just this occasion. It is their right to waggle their heavy hips and jiggle their jugs on the streets so that strangers can gawk at them in all their finery. And spare a thought for our young roadside dandies with Salman Khan hairstyles, who invest all their free time round the year to mimic the dance-steps of their bollywood ideals, just for the chance to display their pelvic-thrusting skills in a baraat (apparently as a hint to the groom as to what is expected of him in due course).
And you must also give some consideration to the parents of the couple, who have spent so many lakhs, usually their entire life savings, to buy them copulatory rights for a lifetime from the society. It is the privilege of these poor souls to gain a measure of revenge on the society by inconveniencing it as much as they can for a few hours.

So next time you are stuck up in a traffic jam brought on by a marriage procession, stop cribbing about the lack of civic sense of the Indians. Just honk your horn loudly and join in the great Indian celebration of yet another marriage. Or better still, park your car in the middle of the street, join in the public gyrations, and later partake of the free food - just like the clever Indian.

The Clever Indian: Prologue

Hello world! This is my first post, but the way things stand, I'm sure it won't be my last.

So let me first introduce myself. I'm the clever Indian, the cleverest person on the face of this earth. Sounds like a tall claim to you? Okay, so here are the facts.

I was the first civilized person on this earth. My glorious civilization is millions of years old. I taught the world everything that it knows today. I discovered the zero, in fact I invented mathematics. I was the first to speak in words while the rest of the world was communicating in sign language. Then I decided to invent the art of writing. Meanwhile Europe and America were in the Cromagnan stage of evolution.

Then effortlessly I moved on to higher pursuits. I founded all the major arts and sciences. I constructed the world's first aeroplane which I named 'Pushpak Viman'. In another inspired moment I invented the science of cloning (the birth of the Kauravas in Mahabharat is proof of that). The great Rishis of my country have been practising the art of artificial insemination for centuries (the birth of the sons of King Dasharatha is a case in point). The warriors in the historical text Mahabharata fought with nuclear weapons which were named Brahmastra, Agneyastra, etc.

In those days my people were all supermen. Our average height was 7 feet 5 inches. We used to be extremely strong; in fact our best warriors could lift the whole universe in their hands and smash it to pieces, if they chose to. Our average lifespan used to be a thousand years. Our women were the loveliest in the world. They had doe-like eyes. Their breasts were like ripe mangoes and their heavy buttocks hung like water-melons on their slender waists (which threatened to snap with every step they took, bearing as they were the weight of those glorious orbs).

All these things are not mere empty boasts; they are as true as the fact of the sun rising everyday in the east. All these facts are recorded in our great Vedas and our historical texts which the rest of the world foolishly calls epics. If you are still inclined to be skeptic, ask the leaders of the RSS, the BJP or the VHP - they will be only too glad to corroborate these truths. And as we all know, they are perfect, honorable and omniscient people who can never ever speak the untruth. They will tell you that I invented every art worth inventing: music, painting, sculpture and literature.

Even today when the world has degenerated and the glories of my past are no more, I'm still the cleverest person on the face of this earth. America may be the richest country in the world, but its computers work because of me; its satellites and Starwars program are entirely dependent on me. People say my that my own country is poor while I work hard to enrich America, but they are ignoramus materialists who don't know that my philosophy teaches me to slave for the comforts of my fellow humans while desiring nothing for myself.

In the field of health I'm far ahead of the rest of the world. While other people are struggling to discover medicines to cure diabetes, hypertension, cancer and AIDS, I am content in the knowledge that Yoga is the cure of every disease known to man. All the great Gurus in my country say that and so it must be true. And if somehow Yoga fails, then there is always that great panacea - the urine of the holy cow, which may even bring back a dead man to life.

That's all I'm going to say for now, but don't worry, I will be appearing on this blog from time to time to tell you all about my cleverness. Till then, Jai Hind.