What would RTH do?

That is the question.

If I were in a highschool yearbook, they would vote me most likely to die of a lynch mob. That does not prevent me from opening my mouth and serving a warm hearty cup of STFU to people who deserve it. My dark scathing humor will leave no matter of existence untouched. My innocence will touch your soul.

Welcome to a warped world turned inside out and upside down. All sorts of discretion advised.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Health Care Reform

Or Fokken Americans!!!

I lost my supervisory job because the company shifted their call centers to Makati.

Unlike some I do not blame the Filipinos. I've spoken to some of my replacements in Makati. They are really nice hardworking people. Their attendance and performance is better too. I do not even blame the business, businesses are here to make money and improve efficiencies.

Fokken Americans and their fokken crappy work ethic. Fokken Americans and their fokken eternal fear of socialism that business regulation is out of the question.

I could not afford the health care through my work, so I purchased private individual health insurance.

I do not blame the insurance companies, they are here for profits. I do not blame my company, it is a small business and cannot afford low cost health insurance like the big boys. It is a farm operation and there are risks, which unfortunately even the office folk have to bear the cost off.

Fokken Americans and for letting the government ignore small businesses. Fokken Americans and their fokken attitudes to small town farmers and their ignorance and apathy towards companies looting rural America.

My wages were cut by 5% in light of the recession.

I was lucky not to be laid of again. I do not blame the company. Times are rough, but they kept me despite being the new one and least experienced in a specialized industry. They are giving me a lot of training and development opportunities as they can. Thank God for the Obama government and their stimulus funds towards stormwater management and green business.

Fokken Americans for voting a fokken government that fought a fokken worthless war for fokken selfish reasons and took the fokken country and its economy down the drain.

My insurance premium will be increasing 33% this November. If this continues, it will eventually become unaffordable.

I do not blame the insurance company. They work in a capitalist environment and are out to make profits. I do not blame the pharmaceutical companies for overcharging for medications because, they legally can and why should they not. I do not blame everyone who works in an inefficient and selfish system that literally rapes the citizens of this country - because they are allowed to and people feel it is acceptable to do so.

Fokken Americans and their resistance to reform. Fokken Americans and their irrational occultic fears of public health care. Fokken Americans who think Europe, Canada and the rest of the fokken world are just fokken dumb shit for what they do. Fokken Americans for thinking that government option would ruin our system. Fokken Americans for they probably think I am a fokken lazy immigrant on welfare who deserves to die for lack of health care if I cannot afford to pay the premiums.

Fokken Americans because I am Asian and I am magic and know how to manage my expenses to make ends meet despite this epic rip off. Fokken Americans because if this was Fokken you, you would be Fokken screwed for your life. Yet I hope this would never befall you and am actually open to the idea of spending more of my hard earned money that comes from 40+ hours a week including grueling labor in the heat and dirt to pay for a better system so that no human being ever be ripped of or be denied of basic rights and care. I'm such a fokken retard and softie.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Profiling 101

I'm quite miffed that they detained Shahrukh Khan at the airport for hours. Don't get me wrong, while I am a fan - I am not upset that they detained the next best thing to God. I'm more perturbed by the logic of the detention. You see I'm half Hindu and half Good Jew (read Gujju). I'm with millions of people across the globe, some who really are Good Jews for whom the KKK forms the holy trinity. My KKK is Shahrukh (K)han , Aamir (K)han and Salman (K)han. Of course its a flexible cult some people interchange one with Saif (K). Some like their (K)hans (K)apoored.

The media keeps comparing Shahrukh Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise, but in the truest sense it would be like frisking Jesus Christ at an airport. Maybe thats a bit too far, but I'm sure people would not approve if the Pope ever were to be detained. The KKK are like our hope, dope and pope in one. So you see the gravity. The thing is I would strap dynamite to myself and blow myself up for Shahrukh and so would millions of other people. Its a good thing we are a very tolerant group of people. If not can you imagine people driving their cars into cellphone towers? Imagine the mass chaos when thousands of turbulent teens can no longer type, twitter and text on their phones. So you can see why I am miffed. This utter lack of intelligence almost brought about the end of days.

Anyway this was not the intent of this rant. It was all said and done. The world was saved from doom and I've tucked away my dynamite for a more pressing sacrifice. However, the repercussions of any near catastrophe are overwhelming. People have bounced of many ideas to retaliate. One idea that I am particularly fond of is detaining Hollywood celebrities for questioning. Since we have no real questions or reasons we have to come up with excuses. I'm really up for Tom Cruise being detained for an improptu Seedhi Baat on Scientology, or maybe they can do some sansanati khulasa on Lady Gaga, if its Oprah we can ship our entire government for some therapy. It is not a bad idea at all.

Now some retaliations were down right confuzzling. Case in point - they burnt an effigy of Obama somewhere in Bihar. He's a black man, his father is a Muslim, he just got slammed for defending another black man - but he is the reason why Shahrukh was detained and there is some sort of glorious justice in burning his effigy to make a point. Up until the burning of Bush and Cheney effigies I was thrilled and ecstatic that Indians were brilliant to see what a bunch of scoundrels Republicans are. Now I am having serious doubts about their intellect.

As far as I can see, they are no more or less profilers than the security in American airports. The security here sees the color of your skin and pulls you aside to frisk you. Intelligence could be smarter and make security and air travel more efficient with better system of checks than lets harass all those who look remotely Middle Eastern. Similarly, these citizens and politicians in India hear USA and make judgments on you. Something goes wrong, blame Americans. Shahrukh is detained, blame Americans as if the entire country is engaged in one big conspiracy to disgrace the next best thing to God. Heck our President could be a black blind paraplegic Muslim lesbian and they would still burn effigies because she is the President of the United States. Apparently the President of the United States has some sort of moral, legal, social and come what may obligation for the welfare of Indians across the globe. No wonder Bush went senile from day one, thats a tough job.

Anyway, thats the moral of the story - when you have nothing to do worthwile - pick someone to harass and profile. I'm smart, witty and awesome and I shall profile and demean all those less intelligent and ask them stupid question.

Heres a crash course in profiling. Profiling 101. Its really easy, you just have to convince yourself that someone ought to be blamed for everything and treat them suspiciously because they might do something blameworthy.

Step 1: Pick one or more nouns from 'A' and hate them for one or more reasons on 'B'

A: Niggers, Kikes, Faggots, Micks, Pakkies, Hoosiers, Rednecks, Blondes, Left Handers, Elvis Impersonators, People named Bob (I mean you an really put anyone here, heck you could even say everyone you know)

B: stupid, smelly, so gay, ugly, fugly, creepy, poor, rich, liar, thief, stole your job, slept with your wife, are actually smarter better and prettier than you are (You can make it up really, you can hate Bobs because the sky is blue)

Step 2: Throw a big fit hue and cry when you see someone else following step 1. Show moral superiority and tell them that they ought to grow up and see the light.

Now as I teach you to profile, our great intelligence is going to start spying on me to see where I hid my dynamite. They think I'm serious, and they think this statement is a ploy to throw them off. Don't do this on your blog. The intelligence is not that intelligent, and they don't get humor. I hear they do not laugh. They are lean mean killing machines and I just made myself likely to be shot by CIA sniper.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

The Many Moods of Rain

Ah, the rainfall. A simple downpour of water from the skies. An ordinary event explained in textbooks. Yet, its a fascinating, mysterious and somewhat elusive phenomenon, that evokes so many moods and ambiances.

First there is the joy of the first rainfall. The scorching parched earth welcomes the sprays of monsoon into its bosom, like a mother embracing the long lost child. It fills the atmosphere with that delicate yet robust earthy scent, that makes every person feel that loving embrace. People smile in contentment as the cooling veils of water, relieve them from the harsh beating heat of the summer sun. Even a passing shower can light up the mood on an entire sunbeaten town.

Then there that inexplicable feeling swept in by the rains, that gives you butterflies in your stomach. It's a sweet and savory tantalizing mood evoked by the drizzles in the atmosphere. There is some strange naughty but nice sensation of the cool droplets trickling down from your wet locks. It is a strange feeling being hugged by your moist clothes as tiny rivulets flow across your skin. While there is a very hormonal twinge to it, it still brings out the child in you, making grown men and women catch a drop on their tongue, jump through the puddles, loose their inhibitions and kick soccer under the deluge.

Perhaps its this inexplicable feeling that makes the rain so romantic. There is just something incredibly romantic in wading through knee deep floodwaters with someone you care for. I am not sure exactly, how and why, but walking silently through the curtains of rainfall just seem to add so many more layers of depth to any relationship. You just walk silently, soaking in the rain, sometimes not even acknowledging the other, and still manage to have some deeper level of conversation. Monsoon has the power to make you fall in love again and again.

Yet at the same time there is something incredibly sad and painful about the rain. Every now and the the clouds are not bearers of joy or romance, but are dark messengers of a heartbreaking tale of unrequited or unfulfilled love. The fluffy little havens of bliss are transformed into stern colossal towers that cloak the entire world in a gloom of misery. You do not know why, but you feel sad knowing someone, somewhere is aching in their heart and you think of all the things that make your own heart ache.

There is something thunderous and mighty about dark rainclouds. Their larger than life booming presence serves as a reminder of your insignificance and slightness in the whole scheme of things. It asks who are you to deserve all that joy, what have you done on this planet. The storms drown you in their loud claps and earth shaking din.

Deep down in the sadness, you still live, love and hope. For through it all electric flashes of hope streak through the skies, reminding you that all will be good in due time. You know that the darkness will pass and the sun will shine. A colored spectacle unveils itself reminding you that all hope is not in vain. The world eagerly awaits the next rainfall, eagerly anticipating what moods it will bear this time.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Bringing Desi Back

One of my favorite lunch box items back in my school days were chappatti rolls. Chappatti is an Indian unleavened bread. They are very much like tortillas, but made of wheat instead of corn. Normally chappatti is not served as a roll. However, moms would spread jam or curry or pieces of meat/veggies and roll them up to make handy rolls on the go. As we grow older we wean away from rolls to the more traditional ways of eating our desi food. But the nostalgia of old times remains.

This nostalgia was always revived when our American friends would come over. They love chappattis. After all who would not love soft hot of the stove warm chappattis, with a little drizzle of clarified butter. Made from whole wheat flour they are mighty flavorful and delicious on their own.

Now Americans are unable to eat with their hands, let alone break off bits of chappattis to eat them in the traditional manner. So they would do to chappattis, what they know best. They would roll it up with our curries, rice etc just like burritos. In many parts of the Caribbean this is a traditional and popular meal on the go. Several road side carts and small cafes will serve rolls stuffed with curry called 'roti'. In fact so popular is roti as a whole dish, that people are unaware that roti or chappatti is just the Hindi name for the outer shell that holds the stuffing.

My dad has always joked that we should quit our jobs and start selling such rolls on the go as fast food in the mall. While we laugh and brush him aside, at the back of our minds we have always secretly desired that someday – someday these desi rolls will be just as common as Chinese take out or Taco Bell.

So imagine my utter delight when I discovered that some Indian brands of foods have started selling frozen desi rolls. There are so many stuffing flavors to choose from like chole, paneer chilli, achari aloo, palak paneer, chicken tikka. Of course not as delicious as mom's hot homemade delicacies, this is heaven in a roll for desis. What I loved about it is that the proportions in the roll are just right. Delightfully flavorful, yet not soggy or mushy.

Someday, some Indian entrepreneur, as crazy as my father will rent a cart in the mall and sell rotis just like they do in the Windies. Someday, I know I will stop by an Indian fast-food place and order a Number 5 with a side of mango lassi. The guy at the counter will slide my plate over and beam, his heavy accent joyfully echoing “Thank You! Come Again!”

Now about the very same time that I was reveling in desi rolls and fantasizing about exotic desi eateries, another aspect of me was fuming. My mind was seething, and I wanted to go over and bitch slap this stupid woman I met.

A customer I had been working with on the phone had stopped by at our office to pick up a plant order for the City. I went up to help her load the plants. She was a regular hippie type of plant lady. I thought she was batty but nice, until she opened her mouth. She told me that I was not how she pictured. Apparently, she imagined me as having long hair, wearing long flowing colorful skirts, patterned clothes and in her own words 'more exotic looking'.

Ugh! Bitch! I am from a different country, but I am not some exotic creature. Besides, I've lived here for years. I'm just an ordinary American what else did you expect. Fuck you exotic plant hippie, with your delusions of being worldly aware. What the fuck do you know? Who are you to assume how I should look? You do not even know me well enough to share that.

I'm one of the most politically incorrect people ever, so it's amusing and amazing that someone touched my raw nerve in this manner. I've been told various things about my appearance that I should take offense to, but am cool with it. I think I'm not offended because most people draw conclusions from my appearance. This one was an assumption. A very incorrect assumption. I'm offended that someone in this day and age pictures an Indian to be 'exotic looking'. Sans the mocha skin, an Indian looks like just any other person. Forget in the states, most Indians back home too will dress casually in jeans and tees. Indian women will cut their hair short and wear masculine clothing. See if someone assumed a 'saree' or 'salwar kameez', I would not be as offended because at least they are aware of what traditional everyday attire in India is, but then again how many young Indians stick out in the states unless it is a special occasion.

Ugh! This totally frustrates me so. Worst thing is, instead of sounding off like I usually would – I have to burn within with my anger and rage. Unfortunately, this is a customer and not a lay person I could bitch slap or chew of to death. Someday, though someday I will get my revenge.

PS: I am not completely averse to being 'exotic', if you get my drift. I'll be bringing Desi Back.