Response to the "Open Letter to the Delhi Boy"

Since I posted the other letter, I've been receiving a lot of comments. I reiterate that I reposted since I loved the way it was written. Doing justice to the other post, I am posting this response to the letter from Mad Momma's Blog (Again clearly citing the source)

Posting the response to this letter from Mad Momma's blog: (Source Link) http://www.lavanyad.com/madmomma/?p=6298

Dear Shahana,

I’m part ‘Madrasan’ just like you (Tamil for those who want to know)! And I began to read your post with something akin to amusement because I live in Delhi and am very aware of the foibles of the Dilliwalas. I love it nonetheless for embracing me and giving me a home. About 5 lines down your post, I felt a little ashamed of having ever thought that I was ‘just like you’. It seems nigh impossible to fall that low. For every Daalli boy living in Defence Callony there is a Medraus boy getting up ‘yearly in the maarning’. Why do we as a people deride our own regional accents while swooning over a French accent? Are you ashamed of your skin, accent or your food habits? Then why jeer at theirs? You’re weighed down by your colonial hangover, lady.

Autistic three year old on coke? Witty. And also so compassionate of you to think that a child with a disability is an insult. If you’re playing for the South Indian team, I think you just scored a self goal. For every showy Punjabi I’ve encountered a stingy, parochial Madrasi who won’t invite me into the house for a glass of water. For every caste based temple not allowing people in, there is a gurudwara that will feed you at the langar without bothering to ask after your background or ban your gender. But hey, I really hope the ‘punjabis’ don’t define the whole lot of us by the odd cranky old miser that crosses their path. (And what the hell is wrong with a Happy Gurupurab text message? Admittedly I hate mass SMS saying Happy anything, but why pick on their festival messages when these do the rounds for every occasion including Happy your-mother’s-best-friend’s-toe-surgery-day?!)

You say you come from the land of the ugly? Speak for yourself, sister – I’m cute! And I’ve never understood why people take issue with muscular Punjabi men either –  it’s not as though we lovely doe-eyed ladies prefer pot bellies and skinny legs peeping out from under mundus? I for one would never diss my man if he worked out, simply because it’s a ‘punjabi’ thing to do. It is merely the healthy thing to do, so you’re welcome to the shapeless slugs. Or did you mean that South Indian men are by definition, unfit and shapeless? I take offence on behalf of the rather fit men in my family. Honestly, I prefer my men well groomed, not smelling of coconut oil, and definitely no dusty feet in leather slippers. In fact, speaking of working out, did you mention you’re not scrawny? My sympathies – I could offer you the number of a dietician, because genetically we’re blessed to be built much smaller and more petite than the Punjabans and Haryanvis (God bless their souls and the ghee loaded parathas) who have to make an effort to stay fit. So if you have a weight problem maybe you need to get off your soapbox and on to a treadmill.  The first thing we women need to do is stop hating other women because we think they’re hotter/ making an effort we’re not willing to. I know I’d rather chomp on my murukku and slurp my coffee than get up and hit the gym – you make your own choices.

As for our guys not being good looking, I object to the apologetic sound of that sentence. I think my dad is dashing (okay, maybe I am a prejudiced daughter!) and my husband is bloody good looking (this one I have on good authority from many women) and both are true blue ‘South Indians’. If we think our men are not goodlooking and that Punjabi men are the gold standard for looks, we have a problem. Actually only you have a problem. I’m okay with leering after men from all around the country, starting with Baichung Bhutia and heading down to John Abraham (he IS part Mallu, you know) and taking a full circle back to Ashutosh Gowariker. Yeah, I’m open minded and fair like that.

What was that again about SUVs and big cars? If I had a buck for every South Indian man who can’t stop talking about his cars and gizmos, I’d be on a cruise instead of wasting my time writing this post right now. Our good old Coimbatore at one point had the highest number of imported cars. You might want to read this.

The open cascading tresses – clearly you haven’t seen a Punjabi woman or even a Sikh man let down his hair, literally, that is. The Bongs can give us a run for our money too, in the eyes and hair department. And sistah, I quite like my shaggy flip out and refuse to buy into the stereotypical long hair and olive skin bullshit. Who are you to define my South Indianness for me? I’m dark and I love it – I don’t need you to sugarcoat it for me.  But with people like you sounding apologetic about our looks, it is no wonder we need to import fair skinned actresses for our films. It frustrates me. If our men appreciated us for what we are, we’d not need the ‘northies’ on our screens.

And really girl, did you have to bring up Hema Malini and Sridevi of all women? Them of the adultery, the second marriages, the conversions, the plastic surgery and botox fame? Aishwarya with her annoying accent (it’s probably caused by the smile she got redone) and fake marriage is our claim to fame? I thank you – NOT! Funny how all three of them picked Punjabi and UP men when the time came, huh? Good for them. It just leaves the ‘Madrasi’ men free for us. I got my sweet boy from Karnataka instead of Ash!

One tiny matriarchal community does not a trend make. Have you missed the acid attacks? The dowry we offer for our daughters is mind-numbing. If I’m paying 3 crores for an engineer I’d like him to lose the pot belly and the hair oil please! Colleges with separate benches for boys and girls in salwar kameezes (yes, I can say it like them punjabans!). I’d hardly call that the height of freedom. Fight oppression and violence against women instead of just using statistics to score points against another city. Irrespective of geographical location, it is still our gender being oppressed.

Amma-appa sound cooler than mom-dad to you? How could you be so petty as to pick up on something so ridiculous? Were you running out of real jokes? Bharatnatyam is a higher art form than the gidda or Kathak because you say so? I’m tired of this whole ‘attitude’ we have because to me it reeks of inferiority. And I am damned if I am going to be made to feel inferior about my food, my body, my skin colour or my roots by you. Let’s lighten up, let down the butt length tresses and accept that we play Punjabi music at our discos for fun.

You lost me at the girls doing fake marches (check out what these LSR girls are doing, by the way)? What exactly is it that other college kids are doing that is so much more significant? They’re just college kids, leave them alone to have fun while they can!

What really got to me was the fleeing Pakistan reference. Would any of us consider saying something so heartless about Tibet/Kashmir/Cambodia? Are we so cold as to make a sneering reference to something that was so painful? Partition brought loss, bodies piled up in trains, blood, entire families wiped out … don’t we share history with them? Are you kidding when you say that you come from a defence background? I’m horrified that a girl from a defence background has been brought up to be so divisive. Is this the way the other kids in the armed forces think? I won’t go into statistics of the Sikh regiment and the history of every family giving a son to the army to protect our borders, all while we were sitting around dipping our paruppu vadais in coconut chutney perfecting an attack on the chess board. So yes, we do play a killer game of chess, but oh, we owe them for giving us the safety and luxury to practice it.

As for them not liking our food – are you kidding me? The Brunch carried an article on how the dosa has become the national dish – tit for tat, take that Hindi as official language! You’ll find dosas at every corner stall in Delhi and everywhere else in the country although I must raise an objection to the paneer and Chinese dosas! What if they get started on the image of licking rasam off elbows? Because if we pick on the lowest common denominator to judge them by, they have every right to define us by the elbow lickers.

By the end of your post I was embarrassed for you. For the anger, the bitterness, the hatred and the vulnerability you let slip through. I have no idea what brought it on, but a good bottle of wine and some girl friends and a box of tissues might have been more effective. What you’ve done is unforgivable – you’ve drawn lines and swords and hurt a lot of my ‘Punjabi’ friends. And oh yes, as someone else said – if you don’t want to be called Madrasi (what do you mean you’re part South Indian – you know there are four states, right?), learn to differentiate between Punjabi and Delhiite. Everyone who lives in Delhi is not a Punjabi and not every Punjabi lives in Delhi. That said, everyone is welcome in Delhi, and Munirka and RK Puram are mini-Tamil Nadus themselves.  I buy my dosa maav and podi from there.

And finally, I’m appalled by some of your lines – Texas chainsaw massacre your face? Your dead Dadi? Your mother’s shaven bosom? Kalari your tongue up your ass? Shove so many coconuts down you? Classy. Way to lose control of your point and make a fool of yourself. Crass, rabid and divisive is what these statements are. Driving a wedge of hatred where previously there was only a cultural disparity. It’s a pity you fell so low while trying to make a point on superiority or heck, even equality. To quote them Punjabis, you’ve MC-BCed our case altogether in this badly cobbled together, poor attempt at wit, crossing over into coarse, foul and ignoble territory. And you’re dragging the rest of us into the mire as you cross that fine line between wittily irreverent and decidedly crass. Maybe you just need a good nap or a cold glass of coconut water so that you can cool off and consider what you allowed your ire to lead you into.

I apologise to all those offended by Ms Shahana’s little hissy fit here. We have our good and we have our bad and to attack prejudice with prejudice is not the way the rest of us South Indians work. I need to get back to cracking my IIT now. Apparently Shahana thinks I have no other choice or mind of my own. Now where did I put my pen – in my Fendi bag or my Gucci clutch? Oh wait, I couldn’t possibly know the difference, stereotypical Madrasi chick that I am.

And oh, Shahana, I have a request. In future, do not presume to write on behalf of all Madrasis. Not all of us are quite as bigoted or rabid.

Lowe,

MM (I proudly spell it Yem-Yay-Dee, Yem-O-Yem-Yem-Yay), yet another mocha coloured Madrasan married to a sweet fayer Sawth Indian boy.

PS: Okay lets kiss and make up, North and South Indians. In fact let’s drag the Pakistanis into this big group hug with this lovely song – Hona Tha Pyar.

Open Letter to a Delhi Boy (Source Link below)

Source: http://raagshahana.blogspot.com/2011/09/open-letter-to-delhi-boy.html?spref=fb

Loved this letter! Hilarious! Do note that I haven't written this article and neither does it mean that I share the sentiment! Loved the way its written.

OPEN LETTER TO A DELHI BOY

Dear Delhi boy,

Namaskaram from the South of India, or as you may like to believe, the countries south of the Vindhyas. I came to your city 2 years ago with a brand new job and a bucketload of expectations. My friends and family here thought I was completely insane to choose Delhi over more female conducive cities like Bangalore or even Bombay. I am very sad to report that your reputation of being an ignorant, chauvinistic oaf with the intelligence levels of an autistic 3 year old on crack precedes you and it hurts me even more to admit to this rather accurate description.

Your reputation has travelled far and wide, to countries outside South India as well. And believe me man, it is not a pretty situation. I understand that your stone faded, ripped jeans, your V-neck cleavage showing t-shirts that revel to the world that you have infact inherited your mother’s voluptuous shaved Punjabi bosom, are what you think maketh a man, but it does not. It only maketh for a man who gets a pity license to share his girlfriend’s bra. I write to you as a woman who has been brought up in a society free of any discrimination towards women so thanks to you, my living in Delhi is as safe as Hugh Hefner’s playmate of the year living in Jedah.

You meet me at a friend’s birthday, talk to me about nightclubs and your new SUV and when I look like I’m in desperate need of a barf bag, you think I have an attitude problem. I understand this completely. But let me remind you that I am from SOUTH INDIA and not SOUTH DELHI, so no ,I am not scrawny, I am not fair, I don’t have straight hair and my topics of conversation go beyond the Fendi I saw in last month’s Vogue. I am olive-skinned, have lower –back-length lustrous cascading tresses that sometimes make me look like I fell out Jim Morrison’s tour bus. Got a problem with that? Well just suck it up coz I was born into a society where a woman can whoop your Punjabi patoutie to pulp. While your mother pretends to be very progressive but still cows down to the whims of her husband every single time, mine on the other hand was born into a matriarchal home where every single possession is in the rightful name of the girl child. Could you ever, my hunky handsome, cash throwing pig, imagine this kind of power in your society? So stop telling me that women are not treated like trash where you come from. Just shut up and admit to it. It’s just easier that way. And lest we forget that we’ve managed to curtail the number of rape cases despite not having a female Chief Minister. Amma ‘s body composition generates way too much heat for her get out of her AC room anyway, so don’t even bring that up.

And your English. Good Lord, what in the world is up with that? I don’t want you to ‘explain me’ anything. It’s like you need to go to primary school all over again. And call them your parents, not your ‘peerents’ or what your cooler, more happening brethren call them—‘mere mom-dad’. Like what are they? Conjoined twins? Are they joined at the hip? Your South India counterparts may not have your looks, but are way more mentally stimulating, a quality that alludes you obviously, but has been the single most sexy factor for us Southie chicks since the age of five. I mean once again, who can blame you? You were brought up on Gurdas Mann and the heroic deeds of Devinder Singh Bhullar and the ever so fair concepts such as elections in Phugwada while we mere ‘black-colour waale’ mortals had to make do with Bharatnatyam classes, M.S subhalakshmi and chess. Shame no? And yes, if by a slight chance, you do find my big dancer eyes attractive enough for you to prolong our conversations and meetings and if by an even slighter chance you fall in love with me and decide to marry me, you will have to wear a mundu and you will have to lie prostrate shirtless at the Guruvayurappan temple. A small price to pay for all the genuine independence I am giving up for you. And that’s the real thing, not what you see the Delhi girls at LSR and Stephen’s doing during their fake as hell protest marches coz ultimately they’re going home to a family who’re putting together money for Bobby beta’s bail coz he just ran over his girlfriend’s ex, by mistake of course.

I understand that I come from the land of ugly. I mean obviously Hema Malini, Sri Devi and Aishwarya Rai with their natural banal looks don’t even hold a candle to Priyanka Chopra after her two nose jobs and one lip reconstruction surgery. Not a chance in hell. But when you do come to ask for my hand, remember I am part Maharashtrian and part South Indian and NO, they are not the same thing. So please tell your family, not to drop racist bombs like “Arey woh sab toh ‘Sawth’ ke hi hote hai na?” And YOU—don’t walk up to mother in an attempt to make flattering conversation and say shit like “Aunty you don’t look like a South Indian You are so fair” In return she will verbally Texas chainsaw massacre your face so badly, your dead Dadi will haunt you the very same night, telling you how fleeing Pakistan was less traumatic. So don’t. Better still just don’t speak. Just glean and flex your muscles a little and keep smiling. Just whatever you do, don’t talk.

You may not like our food, but then we don’t like you, which is worse. We may not be even that into food, but then that’s coz we have other things to do with our lives, like crack IIT or become writers, journalists, activists and do things that we are very passionate about. The South Indian woman has a voice and boy can she yell. So if you want to Sambhar ‘Chawl’ your way into my life, then you got to toe the line. Be way more aware than what your are. Remember Delhi is not a country and we are not Black. If I ever hear you utter that name of that colour, I will Kalaripayattu your tongue out of your rear. Yes , that is the secret behind our awesome sex ratio. Just so you know.

For someone who is so confident of his physical abilities you really suck at luring an intelligent woman. Don’t send me text messages that say ‘happy guru purab’, you freakshow and if you want to be cute with your ever so charming (not) Punjabi advances, then don’t send texts that say “Dil laye gayee kudi Madrraaas di”! NO. It’s just not cool man. I may have have missed on a lot in this letter, but that’s ok because you’ll forget to read it and even if you do , you’ll get your cousin Jassi from Defence Callonny to translate it for you. And this letter can’t go on forever like the Punjabi male ego.
So long my love, and here’s two steps of gidda just for you, just to show that I can be traditional and will not accidently kick your sister while doing so.

Love, hugs, kisses aka ‘muah’ (only I shall ‘muah’, you please don’t do anything coz you tend to forget that these are my lips and not a piece of Tandoori Chicken from Kakke- Da- Dhabba)

Yours
Madrasan
(Only I can call myself that. If you EVER call me by this name, I will shove so many coconuts down your system that your little saver pack versions will begin to sprout coir.)

The Super Multi-tasker or Issues with Attention Span?

As I pause every evening before I leave for the day and wonder whether I should shut down my Macbook - that's when I look around to see tons of stuff open. I can't get to close my Keynote files, my MS Powerpoint files, my Google Chrome browser instances, my Safari browser instances and basically anything else open!

Is this because of my low attention span? Or is it because people are just sharing too much information. More than what I can comprehend? I open a link, read half way through and then someone sends me something else or I go back to working on a presentation. And at the end of the day, I have so much of stuff open that I really don't know what I can close!

My faithful Macbook is the one that suffers through this! It does take it all well though. I wonder how any other laptop would have put up with this! My HP gave up on me..... Well HP gave up on HP (No wonders here!).... My dell survived close to a year.... My Macbook is still going strong.... And to add to it... Steve Jobs helps many such MEs....He even got Lion to bring us back to where we were even if we shut down! He gave us multiple desktops (Which I can't seem to remember to use!!). He gave us a reading tab on the browsers - to put things there to come back to later!

Going forward, I have to start closing up on things!

Different types of fighters?

I was over at a friend's house a few weeks ago and something he said still sticks in my head. He was just getting past a fight with his girlfriend and was talking to her when he asked all of us around, "When you fight, do you fight only for that incident that you started fighting for or do all the other things you've been irritated with the other person also get into the picture?"

This actually got me thinking! It's been in my mind for quite a while actually. I think this can help us categorize our friends in buckets. In my humble opinion, they could probably be the below:


1. The Goody Two Shoes: 

This is the breed that tries to smile through everything that happens in and around them. They actually intrinsically start believing that smiling is their only option out or into any situation. These guys are sometimes unbelievable. They always are the ones controlling a situation and keeping people in check. They would pass super awesome dialogues like, "What are you going to get out of fighting with him/her?" or "Smiling takes less energy that frowning" and the likes!

So what are these guys thinking of when they get into a fight? Simple - They just don't get into fights! They keep all their thoughts into their head and basically dismiss them as nothing! But what they feel is nothing could be something just locked up. 

Beware of constantly pissing of such people as when they explode, they really do! And then the floodgates are open - They will bring up every teeny weeny thing you may have said or done in the past!

2. The fire-breathing Dragons

These are the short-tempered dudes who flare up at any given moment for the smallest of things! They will flare up for about a minute or two and then probably instantly cool down.

The more we understand such people, the better friends they will be. These guys are generally very genuine when it comes to fighting. They get angry, but are angry only for what you said or did right then! They're not really thinking about any other thing (Rather, they don't have the time for all that). 

3. The Silent Wizards

There is yet another type that is probably the most interesting of the bunch. It is this type that passes with a mysterious elan and you hardly ever do get to know what they're thinking or doing. They reserve their thoughts and feelings and ponder over them time and again.

More often that not, fighting with this lot is pointless as you really wouldn't know why they're angry with you. The fight may have started over something simple, but in reality the person is fighting coz of a whole other reason. That other reason could be something that happened days or months ago!

These guys will usually bring all the ammunition they can to any fight and it makes sense for you to get to a quick end here. Don't prolong the fight since the longer you take, the more the other person will bring onto the table and into the fight!

So what are the other types?  

Yet another Chapter - Mumbai calling!

Made the plunge finally. And today the world glorifies entrepreneurship to the level that its almost considered cool! In fact, for a while, I was almost on top of the world as people kept praising me for my courage and what not! And then reality hits you! You're out on your own, you really can't go out spending money like you know you're going to get more at the end of the month! You politely deny dinner invites from friends since you don't want to look at a huge bill! All of this and more! I think the word entrepreneurship is highly abused and misused (Similar to how innovation came and went).

However, I will focus on hiccups in startups in a new blog I plan to co-author with my partner and other interested startup bloggers. I would rather focus on Mumbai - The city of dreams and potholes!

I've been in Mumbai for a month now and I can't help but notice the following:

1. People are in such a hurry that they literally and figuratively step over other people's toes
2. It just rains like there's no end
3. The crazy pot-holes
4. The nicest of people here are the auto-rickshaw drivers!
5. The CRAZY property prices
6. It's almost impossible to find a house if you're single. Even more difficult for single girls
7. It's almost impossible to get a postpaid/prepaid mobile connection or an internet connection without a house or some sort of local address proof
8. Autos are actually cheap! (I'm from Chennai where auto guys charge you fares to take you to the moon and drop you in the next street)
9. I've seen more fist fights here in a month here than in Chennai for years!
10. There is a lot of bread consumed here - As Vada Pav, Samosa Pav, Maska Pav and what not!

A month gone and I can't help wonder why the government is not making the efforts required to improve the choked state of infrastructure in this city! One of the most densely populated regions in the world, Mumbai is filled with traffic and the fastest mode of transport in the city is the local trains. Travelling in the local trains is an experience of its own. It's only when I stand watching the train arrive that I wish I was born a girl. There's a separate compartment for ladies in the train that generally has some space for breathing. The guy's compartment is more packed than a tin of sardines. And in all this crowd, people are still able to fight and throw a punch. The other day I was in the train and I could hardly stand. Two guys got into an argument and one guy actually threw a punch!

For all the noise that is made about immigrants into this city, I now believe that the immigrants are actually the nice and polite people. Most Marathis have a tone that comes of as rude and they are so many swear words flying around the place that you would start believing that people haven't grown up after those high school days when swearing with friends was actually considered cool!

Ok, here's some advise for single folks coming into Mumbai looking for accommodation:

Remember, it's going to be very difficult for you to find a place and you should give yourself a good one month time to find a place. You may want to make arrangements with family or friends to stay for that one month. Getting a place here involves giving your resume to the society, getting an approval certificate from the society, getting a police clearance and then you have to register the lease! It's very difficult to find a place without an agent (for single folks) and hence you will have to plan on paying brokerage too (1 month's rent). Some brokers would tell you to just lie to the society that your folks will be staying with you etc, but I would advise against it as I have heard that some single folks have actually been evicted after taking possession of the flat. You would have already paid the brokerage then and you may be back to square one.

As you begin settling in Mumbai, its wise to look around and get the numbers of all the shops around you. They deliver anything and everything to your house here! Right from medicines, groceries to tea and coffee! Also, Mumbai is open pretty late - you could probably find a decent number of shops open even at 10pm and after. Accordingly, work also begins relatively later - at around 9:30am or 10am.

Getting a 3G connection - If you are like me and have to have a fast 3G connection on your phone at all times, you may want to get a Vodafone connection. I've been using it for about ten days now and have been very impressed with the download speeds. I did a speed test and at most places I see speeds above 3mbps which is impressive (I used to get around 200kbps with my "3G" connection in Manila). However, all 3G connections are capped at this stage. The highest plan with Vodafone is around 1200 Rs a month with a 5GB cap on data usage. I'm sure this will change as competition increases. However, to get your connection, you must have address proof and hence I would advise that you get a prepaid SIM card from whichever place you are coming from (in India) and use it on roaming (Roaming charges aren't that high in India). It's easier to probably get a prepaid from your place in India. Rules are pretty strict in Mumbai coz of the terrorist strikes etc!

If you are going to be working with the media and advertising industry, you way want to start your day late, coz most of these folks come into office really late and leave pretty late too.

Will update more in my next posts! Stay posted for some awesome stuff in the mobile marketing arena!