A Word about Blogrolls

And sausage rolls
With each change in my life, I find a change in my audience.Despite being being Bloxually Inactive, I’ve been linked by a few people lately, and I just wanted those people to know that I haven’t updated it out of sheer laziness - have mercy - my exams are less than a week away, and the end of Term 1 is nigh. You can expect a self-congratulatory, decadent, reminiscing type of post around then (which I formulated last night, but put off due to guilt - studying and all that).

That’s all I had to say.

What about the Sausage Rolls? Well nothing really. Sausage Rolls in Australia are basically the equivalent of ‘non-veg’ patties in India, only the internal constitution is mashed beef/pork (and you were expecting something phallic instead weren’t you).

Anyway, they taste really bland and awful, and the only reason I mention them is to give a nice sub-heading to go with the heading. Sometimes, I do things just for the esthetic appeal you know.

And finally, there’s this:

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

A Bundle of Mandal

RANTY RANTY
More crap

If Aditya Sarma does immolate himself, all those igniting this unwarranted frenzy will be responsible for it.

So it’s ok to be a farmer and commit suicide. That’s alright. Then you have the sympathy of a certain bunch of people. But if you happen to be student wondering why his life just got harder, you’re a moron. (Note: I think that anybody committing suicide is a stupid thing to do, and have no sympathy for any of them).

Lastly, all those opposing “Mandal II” should tell us whether they are non-OBC. Upper castes are no doubt meritocratic (which is why sons inherit fathers’ businesses), and they are no doubt oblivious to caste (just see the matrimonial pages), but there is the hint of vested interest here. And if you are opposing reservations because admissions will become tougher for you, you won’t get the point of affirmative action anyway.

Mercy. The beauty of being TTG, is that he doesn’t know what his caste is.

As Vulturo (welcome back BTW) says  I don’t have many Dalit friends, because I have never bothered to dwell on their caste. I don’t know. I don’t know how many Brahmin friends I have either. (I am however, painfully aware of the number of Muslim friends I have, but that is another story, for another day).

Then there’s this . It just keeps getting funnier and funnier and funnier.

Albert Krishna Ali. LOL.

A businessman who refuses to rent a flat in Gaurav Apartments, would he ever give a job to a Dalit at his office? Unlikely. He will say that “they” lack “talent”, are not educated enough, and so on.

After comments like this, some of us are expected to carry on with ‘intelligent debate’. Anybody, who has spent even a second working somewhere, knows what a rarity professionalism, and hard work and talent are. A businessman who refuses to hire a Dalit solely on the basis of his caste will be out of business really soon - especially if 50% of our country is really meant to be lower caste. Honestly, I find that hard to believe, because it means we are all guilty of some really twisted logic. It means that the clothes we wear, the food we buy and the air we breathe is all tainted and polluted by the lower castes as they must be slaving away in factories and offcies and the like. Shit. But somehow, we don’t seem to mind it.

Will I hire somebody from IIT after I know he’s a Dalit now? No. Simply because I know that this person got in on relaxed rules, while the rest of them had to suffer through it. I will discriminate against him/her. Actively, whereas before this point, I would have not bothered about the caste of anybody from IIT. I would have hired the one that got the best grades.

But not anymore, sorry.
Last part - Personal Attack

I’ve personally met Shivam Vij at a Delhi Blog Meet. It’s funny, here I stand, along with a whole bunch of other people, being accused of discriminating against people because of something intangible they are born with or something (hell I have no frikking clue what the hell caste is. It makes no sense to me. I can understand racism, but caste-based discrimination makes no sense to me at all). But when I met you at the blog meet, it was YOU who turned your nose up at me, because I happened to live in ‘South Delhi’, the ‘posh’ part of town, and you were the one who sat there judging me.  Interesting.

I refuse to submit to the will of a pawing-clawing kleptocracy which puts “Equality” <- a disgusting concept when applied in an economic sense over “Merit”. “What use do we have for merit anyway”.

Some Administrative Stuff

Addressed in order of the comments received

On Ayn Rand
She’s a (deceased) crackpot bitch, who believes that men should rape women as the only true act of love or something (please, spare me the lectures on how I seem to miss the true nature of what she’s been saying). However, at the same time, she managed to articulate that which was always present in my mind, and probably in the mind of a lot of other people. Which is how it is - some of the greatest psychos in history also came up with some of the most interesting theories. Am I a fan of Ayn Rand? No. I read Atlas Shrugged (exactly 4 times, which is very low for somebody like me), and for the most part, the book is shit. It is one long rant (and considering my pedigree, I know a rant when I see one). Some parts of the book are good - specifically the thoughts that go through the men who were working for Taggart Railways before the accident in the Tunnel. That one portion of the book sums up things in India so well, that the rest of the shyte the book is filled with is forgivable.

The Fountainhead on the other hand, is brilliantly written, and nice and taut. No ranting, interesting dialogue and stuff. I wish more philosophical/ideological books were written with that tone.

On Moderation (Comment Moderation, not Alcohol)
My comment policy is as follows - every single comment that anybody makes shall be published EXCEPT comments that reveal my e-mail address, physical address, telephone number or other confidential personal information. Personal attacks, cursewords, attempts to defame, and really brainless attempts at creating an analogy between moderating comments on your blog (private property) and being in support of government regulation shall be allowed to go through. Of course…this moderation is ‘faith-based’ - you have to take it on faith that I actually do let defamatory comments through.

So in case the intelligence-impaired are still asking why retain moderation at all - it is to maintain some control over what is currently my intellectual (the word intellectual being used extremely loosely) property. The concept of private property/intellectual property, unfortunately, is not comprehensible to communists, so this idea may go straight over their heads.

On Calling People Fornicating Jokers (Cop Out)
Who exactly was being called a Fornicating Joker was intentionally left ambiguous. This was for legal reasons.

On mentioning the WTO
I never said that the aforementioned people were talking about the WTO. I brought up the WTO.

On Unintentional Humour
This post is either in jest or is out and out trolling/flamebait.

On Mandal II
Thank God Australia is offering citizenship so easily. Bye bye India, I’ll come back when you come to your senses. (ok not really, I miss Chicken Tikka too much - plus I have to vote the current government out of power).

How the other half bullfaeces

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming..
So here’s the original article.

It’s full of the usual moralising, self-righteousness and other rubbish, not to mention the fact that comments are closed.

Ok somebody is lamenting the suicides of farmers. Fair enough, lament away, whatever floats your socialist, state-owned boat.

But then you quote lies, and stupidities:

The new wealthy in India are quietly abandoning the state: paying for their own private police force and playing golf at private clubs. There appears to be little concern about supporting public services or about the poor who are stuck with decrepit hospitals and schools.

Oh yes, little concern about supporting public services. WHen we want roads built, then we’re just concerned about find a new place to honk our horns. When we want more electricity, then we’re displacing villagers in Narmada. You can’t win. The poor are ’stuck’ with a lot of other things too, why do you only restrict to hospitals and schools? And apparently, it is my fucking fault that the hospitals in Vidharba, if they have any, are performing poorly. I’ll try and put this about as mildly as can. Fuck. You.

The arrival of new pesticides, genetically modified seeds and swanky tractors that soak up increasingly expensive petrol has pushed up the cost of the production.

This part is just hilarious, and proves just how the author is full of shit. Full of it. He has no clue what he is talking about.
Tractors. Run. On. Diesel. Diesel is subsidised heavily, because it is more expensive than Petrol, and the government, in its infinite Socialist wisdom, decided to make Petrol more expensive so that the “rich” could subsidise the poor. Second - apparently these new tractors are gas-guzzlers. Oh yes, let’s go back to the olden days when you were using bullocks. One part of the TheOtherIndia cartel might get pissed off because of cruelty to the bullock. Furhter, is the idiot author trying to imply that the tractors of yore were more fuel-efficient? My ass.

Vidarbha’s farmers, unprotected by market controls and tariffs, have to compete with growers from the European Union and US who are subsidised to the tune of billions of dollars a year. The last vestiges of Indian government support were withdrawn a few months ago. The result is that Indian cotton farmers have become impoverished in a few short years.

Oh those poor little unprotected babies. WIll somebody please get them a nursemaid? They are unprotected. So what this seems to imply is that they should be protected instead of the fact that it is the EU and US farmers who should be UNPROTECTED. But you see, India and the rest of the world has been unable to negotiate a fair deal for its famrers because it needs to do that at this thing called the WTO, which is Satan’s latest incarnation as far as our OtherIndia friends are concerned, so nothing ever gets done there except of fighting off protesters who could have been better off preventing women from being molested on our streets, and nagging the MCD into filling up its potholes.

A bunch of fornicating jokers.

Journal Entries

Based on previous posts, I think you can expect low quality from this one too…

This blog is hereby renamed “Tarun’s boring life and sordid lovelife journal” from here on in. There’s not much left to blog about. See, the thing is, one gets so drained from the classes, that one is no longer in the mood to be angry and ranting - plus being frustrated in other aspects used to help fuel the anger. In case it isn’t clear, here are the classes I’m taking for this term:

• Accounting (for Managers) (Argh)
• Managerial Economics (Argh)
• Data & Decisions (i.e. Statistics. Argh)
• Marketing (for Managers)
• Managing People for High Performance

As you can see, it’s enough to keep one busy. So instead, I’ll just narrate the events of a party last Friday.

So I lied when I said I wouldn’t be mentioning the Sexy Singaporean again, I figure I’ll de-introduce her gradually. 

So this Friday was ‘Fiesta Latina’, yep a Latin Party. When the Peruvian Pair (which consists of the Perfect Peruvian and her husband (unfortunately)) invited everybody to this party, I fired back with “WHen I do the Salsa, it looks more like the Nacho sauce, and less like the actual dance”, but the Husband replied with “Don’t worry, all of us will just be hanging around the bar anyway”, so I said ok I’ll come too. 

So I walk in to the party with my flatmate, and check out the scene. Tis a nice party.Observe if you will, in the corner sits the Sexy Singaporean, in a pink top and a towel skirt. What pray tell is a towel skirt? I have no idea, but it looked like she’d wrapped a towel round herself, so I call it a towel skirt. 

Now, in the “Dummies Guide to Picking up women”, it states that you should “play it mean, keep them keen”. SO that’s what I did. I danced with every woman that night except the SS. Net result? Well she danced with recently-made friend and fellow classmate - Bombay Boy (who is in direct competition with me for this woman. He’s a hardcore Shiv Sainik. We’ve had a lot of almost-violent fights, but more about that some other time).  Anyway, nothing happened between the two of them, and Cinderella-like she disappeared at midnight, like she always does. 

So because I’m a total bastard, today I send her a message saying: “I’m hurt. No, not only am I hurt, I am deeply offended. You didn’t even dance with me at the party”.

Her response: “You didn’t ask”.

Note-to-self: Don’t mess with 28-year-old Singaporean woman.

(Once you’ve got up off the floor laughing, allow me to continue with this journal entry).

So mid-way thru the party, the French Finesser decided to play a trick on some of the other guys hanging around the bar. He tells the bartender - 3 shots of tequila, and three shot glasses with water please. Bartender returns with the request. This tequila happened to be clear like vodka/water and not yellow like the one I’ve known. DOn’t know why. Maybe this one had no piss in it Anyway, net result, French Finesser had 3 shots of water, and another classmate of mine (a Parsi dude who looks like Freddie Mercury-who-was-also-Parsi-BTW) ended up having to be dragged home by me and Bombay Boy.

So after the party, we all wandered around an area in Melbourne called ‘Brunswick Street’ which is where everybody hangs out to grab their Souvlakis and Slice-of-Pizzas after some hardcore clubbing. Suffering from a major ‘Munchies’ attack, we’re trying to hunt down a place to eat, and we run into LastGermanStanding Boy and girl-mentioned-in-previous-post-who-rubbed-up-against-me-at-the-local-bar. (There are reasons for not mention her nationalistic alliteration - I don’t wanna ruin her rep). 

LastGermanStanding Boy is obviously making a move on the very drunk woman-mentioned-above, and in the middle steps TTG and tells her: “You’re a very mean girl. You just danced with me once tonight”.

So girl unlocks from LastGermanStanding Boy, and locks on to Tarun and starts kissing him and cooing: “Is this mean? Is this mean?”. Ahem. Tarun is a little taken aback, and most hot-blooded males’ reaction is to pounce. But as has happened to me on Numerous occasions I tend to freeze and get shocked that here’s a woman actually behaving like she’s attracted to me (or very drunk? Heh). Now LastGermanStanding Boy is standing there with a very I-wish-it-was-WWII-and-you-were-a-Jew look on his face..and I was dying of starvation. And TTG thinks equally with his stomach as much as his you-know-what.

So he tried to have his cake and eat it too shall we say, by dragging girl with him to pizza place, but girl stayed rooted due to drunkenness. Drunk Girl? Pizza? Drunk Girl? Pizza? Argh. Pizza. Well in all fairness, LastGermanStanding Boy got there first.So I had to unlock, and leave Drunk Girl to LastGermanStanding Boy, and go on and eat not-so-good Pizza and drag Parsi friend home in a cab. 

The End.

Note to Thungachi - I have been getting your e-mails, and apologies for not replying. I do have a lot say and will reply in another day or two - PROMISE!