The Moo Point

What is it guys and their idea of expression? No wonder cell phone and greeting card companies have to turn to women when they want to say, “Express yourself.” The older a boy gets the more he becomes aware of the fact that other humans of the same gender are not to be spoken of in an affectionate way.

There were times when we too had best friends. These were the boys like us with whom we shared our lunch at school. These were the boys who helped us with our homework, and these were the very same boys who picked up fights for you in the playground when you were not strong enough to stand for yourself. As we got to our early teens, these boys were the confidantes who were the first to learn of our secret crushes. And at times these boys were the pigeons carrying mush-infested paper balls to and from these secret crushes. They were our best friends.

Then through some freak of nature these boys became men. And then somehow there were no best friends. Girls still have their best friends (at least I think they do). Boys? Well, something happens somewhere down the line that programs their brains to behave in the following manner.

“So, who is your best friend?”

“What’s best friend? That’s so childish. I have many good friends. We are all good friends.”

So while you still have a closer, select, cherished group of same-sex individuals whom you trust and bank upon, and who would be your single phone call from prison – their acceptance as best friend(s) has been gradually and methodically erased from our genes.

--- Equation: (a)

While I might agree to the fact that Friendship Day might be a stupid idea to begin with – if Valentine’s Day is OK so is Friendship Day. If it’s dumb to commemorate a day to tell someone that he is your friend – it’s no worse than taking out a day to tell someone you love her.

--- Equation: (b)

From (a) and (b)

So when you add our genetically modified expression of sentiments to the idea of Friendship Day, you get something like this:

“HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY :P”

“Same to you but why the :P”

“its thoda sa gay

thts why :P laga diya”

Now that’s a real life chat.

It’s the very same phenomena that makes a guy who has been a close friend of yours for close to 9 years write something like this:

“Happy Friendship Day“

“haan haan

Ain’t we too old for Happy Friendship Day?”

That’s us. That’s our Y chromosome acting. So the only recess we have available is under the stream of a serious volume of alcohol.

There’s booze in the blood. Oh, shut up! You Y-Chromosome!

Then it is ok for that very same friend to call me up on STD (something guys don’t do except when it’s your birthday or when you are in a coma) in the middle of midnight, all drunk and high, and then hand over the phone to his girlfriend saying “I just felt my girlfriend should talk to my best friend.”

Holy Alcohol!

So while we curse our friends when they use our deodorant or when they run a heist on our food plate in the canteen – a heist, at times, on ex-girlfriends (and sometimes current as well) is accomplished without any transaction of Sorries and Thankyous. Thank God for the Y-chromosome. After all it’s the Bro Code : Bros before Hoes (details) – which simply translated means “Bas apne beech mein ladki aa gayi. Yahi dosti yahi pyaar!!!”

So here I toast to the unspoken spirit of the bro code.

And this Friendship Day I say to all my unnamed friends (they know who they are – can’t name them – remember the Y guy) without a drop of alcohol in my blood : “I Love You all in the most NON-GAY way that I can.”

Happy Friendship Day.

You watch a movie like Love Actually and it makes you wonder. We, here in our country, need a celebration like Christmas – we really do. After all, what other occasion do we get to profess our love for our best friend’s wives (not girlfriends – wives). And then that very wife ends up kissing you. We really need a Christmas of our own. And not something like the Valentine’s Day – something more local, closer to our heart. Just imagine how wonderful it would be to be able to cheat on your wife of 20 years and say, “Hey It’s Diwali!!!”

This movie also puts a few things in perspective. If you grow up in a conservative environment watching classic Indian romantic movies (like I did), there are a few notions you have about the phrase true love. Now I never say it has to be platonic and/or metaphysical. But I had a few notions corrected anyway. Like: to fall in love with your exotic foreigner girl (read Portuguese) you need to see her in her bare minimums. Surely, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder.

And parenting – boy, do we need to take more than a leaf or two out of their books. Keep flaunting the F-word before your 10 year old step son, who has just lost his mother by the way, and he will grow up to be just like you. Only if Eminem’s mother would have known that. Just once in a while make him jump the security at the airport as well.

Its not that I didn’t like the movie, l really did. The British Prime Minister’s description of his country is perhaps the best there can be. And what in the world can be sweeter and mushier and cosier than watching two erotic actors (that’s just diplomatic for porn-stars) falling in love. Now that was true love.

But all in all, the best part of the film is its opening line: Love Actually is EVERYWHERE. Maybe we just need to remember that. And also remember, “Kids, don’t buy drugs. Become a pop star and they will give it to you fir free.”

Firstly, please ask me: why a new blog? Because if you don’t then this whole blog becomes pointless as I don’t get a chance to explain my point of view. Given how opinionated I am and the range of topics I can list under my expertise, I needed a mouthpiece to voice some of those remark, brickbats, and concerns of national, environmental and individual interests. Also it would give some leeway to my friends who are usually bombarded with my rumblings.

And the fact that I rumble is easily exhibited here, since I haven’t yet answered the primary question: why a new blog? Well that’s because I consider my first/original blog very chaste and cultured. Even if you don’t give a shit for what’s posted there, I believe them to be literary and graphic masterpieces. (Some of them really are, really!!) I have a very reasonable dream of having an anthology of poems published someday. So I decided that let me rumble at a separate address.

Now please be cordial enough to ask me the second question: What’s the MOO POINT?

Well, those who have F.R.I.E.N.D.S flowing in their veins, it needs no further explanation. As Joey Francis Tribbiani says, “Moo Point is the cow’s opinion. It just doesn’t matter. It’s Moo.” So is my blog. It’s all MOO. It’s prejudiced, it’s caustic, it’s illogical, it’s downright blasphemous and it makes no bloody sense. In short, it’s utterly useless. So just sit back, or shit back, as you may wish, and enjoy the journey through blah-blah land.