Homophobic?.... Nah...

Right, let’s get down to this again. After two days of utter, UTTER boredom (except for Orkut, which kept me going), I’ve got to write something here, in an effort to make a habit out of it. What I thought I’d do, with the aid of my lovely sister, is come up with 5 of the funniest, nastiest, most disgusting moments of my life so far. I hope there’ll be more, though, obviously!

You’re gay! No, YOU’RE gay!

“When I was seventeeeen, it was a veeery good yeeeeaaar,

It was a very good year for small town girls and warm summer nights,

We’d hide from the lights… on the village green,

When I was seventeen”

- Frank Sinatra, “It was a Very Good year”

Only there were no small town girls, or village greens. Warm summer nights? Plenty, but I’m digressing. I’m sure those lines have been quoted more times than I can count, but that’s an excellent song, and he’s got a voice that flows like melted chocolate. But when I was seventeen, life was actually pretty cool. I was fresh out of school, getting used to the idea of ‘College’ and the lack of uniforms. I was exposed to a lot more than I’d been used to, and made a lot of fast, but good friends. Didn’t have a girlfriend though. Being 17 and horny is kinda difficult, especially when you can’t express yourself the way you want to. For the first six months of college, the only action I got was, well…. Imagine a conductor waving a stick at an imaginary orchestra. (Too graphic? Too bad.) Actually, my situation now isn't very different.

One of my best buddies was (still is) a chap who I’ll refer to as S. Now, S has always been the cool dude, cracking the funniest jokes and making a fool of himself (ie. He was very popular), and he had a girlfriend. I’m rambling here but bear with me. I had a huge crush on a girl (surprise, surprise) and she actually sorta liked me back. In fact, we nearly kissed each other. I was very excited (obviously), and when S dropped by in the evening, as he was wont to, I told him about it.

We were sitting on the terrace in the dark, with a little illumination from the street lamps, and I was telling him:

“Dude, we nearly kissed each other”

S: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, we hugged, and then she sorta leaned in towards me with her face…”

S: “What, like this?” (Leans towards me with his face)

Me: “Yeah, a bit more like this, actually” (Leans towards S till our faces are well, a FOOT apart – which is actually a pretty good distance!)

SLAM!

I look up to see the terrace door bouncing back off its frame, it had been slammed so hard, and my brother’s back, disappearing down the stairs. Heck.

Needless to say, we were out of there, chasing him, shouting “That wasn’t what you thought it was!”… but he was gone. I think he’d locked himself in the bathroom. And to this day, my brother hasn’t brought it up. Bharath, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry mate.

Not very funny, I know, but put yourself in my position. Actually, just laugh at me.

More chillies than you can handle; the toilet bowl

“With a few red lights and a few old beds
We make a place to sweat
No matter what we get out of this
I know well never forget
Smoke on the water, fire in the sky”

- Deep Purple, “Smoke on the Water”

Does that make any sense now? No? Oh, well…

Back in college, I was in a class with 66 boys and NO girls. Zero. Nada. NONE. It was a blast. We didn’t have to worry about that good-looking kid impressing the class babe, which helped build camaraderie, in a way. Anyway, being “engineers”, we were required to go on an “Industrial Visit”. This was mandatory, as per the curriculum. Of course, these I.Vs were just an excuse to hang out with a bunch of friends, away from home, get drunk, and learn very little about industries. Again, I digress.

Our class went on a trip to Bangalore and Hosur (I hated it then, now I’m just numb), and we stayed in this little hotel which was air-conditioned and run down at the same time (go figure). On Saturday night (which has its own type of magic), a bunch of us decided to hit the pubs, because that’s what you’re supposed to do in Bangalore. There’s shopping too, of course. And traffic jams. You don’t ‘do’ traffic jams, they just happen. The majority of guys left the hotel at 5 pm (imagine drinking for 8 hours straight!), while a few of us stayed back to watch the game. Yeah, Everton (blue scum) v Liverpool (my team). Kickoff was at half past five, so we gathered in one of the rooms at five fifteen, breathless (well, I was, at any rate). Let me introduce a couple more buddies – again, no names, because this is Really embarrassing. The first one was this lovely teddy bear of a guy, who I’ll just call HB – stands for ‘Horny Bugger’. The other was one of my intellectual friends – he’s smart enough to be a doctor, so I’ll call Him MD. Easy. So we’re sitting down in front of the telly with about ten minutes to go, when MD decides he needs a crap (is that Heading making a little more sense now?). So he goes to the loo, and we’re all sitting in the hotel room, talking. With a couple of minutes to go, MD was still in there, so HB (who was worried that MD would miss the start of the game) went up to the door and shouted: “Dude, it’s about to start. Get out of there!”

MD: “A couple of minutes da, hang on”

So we did.

There’s 30 seconds to go and MD is still in there, so HB decides enough is enough, and strides up to the door purposefully.

HB: “Come out, you daft sod!” (or words to that effect)

MD: (silence)

So HB hammered on the door, and the bloody thing swung right open. And there’s MD, sitting on the pot, playing his air guitar, going:

“dah dah daaah, dah dah DAH daaah… what the F@$K?!!!”

(the dah dah daaah bit is the famous riff on “Smoke on the Water”)

HB’s just standing there, bewildered, with his jaw on the floor. You can see why I’ve changed the names, yeah?

The thing which still gets me is, Why on earth didn’t he lock the door? Or even, Could HB have done it on purpose? Actually, I haven’t got a clue, but the thought of it still makes me laugh.

The Eye Hospital

I can’t think of a song to fit in here, so I won’t. A year and a half ago, I was in my final year of college. Final semester, to be accurate. It was a breeze, actually, because we only had to go in from Monday to Wednesday; Thursday and Friday were ‘Project Days’, but a lot of the time we’d be sat at home doing something else. (I’d like to say we were studying, but Come on!, for God’s sake).

Before I begin, I feel obliged to tell you that this isn’t a ‘funny’. It was actually rather disturbing. And surreal.

It was a Thursday, I think, and I was sitting at home, studying. At around 10, my grandmum rang to say that she had to go to the Eye Hospital for a check, and would my mum go with her. My mum (bless her), was rather busy that morning, so she said, “Don’t worry, Vishnu’ll go with you”. Well, after she’d said that, I couldn’t really refuse, could I? I’m a very dutiful son, though, so I said “No problem!”, chucked my text book under the bed, picked up a book (I think it was Disclosure, or something) and went on my merry way. My grandmother, by the way, is Brilliant. Generous to a fault, foul-mouthed, and a great cook. I’m sure your gran is too.

At the hospital, my gran had her pupils dilated. You know, they stick these drops in your eyes and make you sit on an uncomfortable chair with your head tilted back, bored to tears (literally!). Every once in a while, they send someone to check on you, but it’s always “No, no, not yet. Try some more of these eyedrops”, and then squeeze three drops into each eye. Again and again. I hate those. Anyway, I didn’t have to go through it, so I’m sitting there with my book open, but talking to my gran about God Know’s What. Philosophy, probably. We usually have really interesting conversations.

She went all quiet for a bit, so I figured she was getting sleepy. I was just getting into the book on my lap when the following exchange took place:

Paati (eyes closed, head back): So how’s your girlfriend?

Vishnu (reading): Hmmm? Yeah, she’s fine… doing good.

P: Please be careful kanna.

V: (still reading, sort of) What do you mean, paati?

P: Don’t do anything stupid… do the two of you get physical?

V (totally alert, trying not to offend): Well, you know… we have kissed and all that…

P: Have you had sex with her?

V (not surprised, but still being careful): No… we haven’t had se…

P: Whatever you do, don’t try anal sex.

V (unsure of what to do): Paati! Don’t be ridiculous…

P: It’s very unhygienic, you know….

V (nodding emphatically, even though she’s got her eyes closed): I know, I know… I’d nev…

P (with yet more potential to shock): You know, your grandfather and I tried it once…

V (looking for a rock to hide under):…

P: It was very painful. We couldn’t do it.

V (stammering): I’m sure it was…

P: If you ever do try it, make sure you use lubrication.

V (Thinking that he has the coolest grandmother in the world): I’ll make sure I do, paati, if it ever comes to…

P (eyes STILL closed): Good.

And she didn’t say another word for fifteen minutes. I eventually managed to find my book (it had fallen under the seat), and found my page. I’m still shaking my head at that conversation though. Bloody hell.

Actually, I’ve had enough. There’s a couple more, so I’ll try and do them tomorrow.

Good Night.

P.S: If you thought that last one was a little strange, well, you’d be bang on. But it happened, and I’m still not quite sure why. Or how.