SIGH. I'm not funny anymore you guys. I've tried and tried, but the truth is I've lost that inner desire to make fun of everything around me. Either I'm becoming a nicer person (yeah, right. When all hell freezes over), or I've just lost whatever pretensions to humour I once had. But that's okay, right? You guys will still love me? OH GOD DON'T LEAVE. You know what, fine. Just go. I can attract a different audience. I don't need readers who are just here for some cheap laughs. Look at Miley Cyrus- her viewer demographic was once young, hip people, now it's fifty to ninety year old men with beer bellies and receding hairlines. She's doing okay.
Hey, how's it going? I am supposed to be studying, but I'm writing instead, because nothing gets my creative juices flowing like other work that I should really focus on. You should read the short stories I wrote during the recent exam, they are freaking INSPIRED. I hope my parents will appreciate how much my art has improved when the report card comes. If you would like to read one of them, you can do so here. Criticism is appreciated, and by criticism I mean exaggerated praise. Under no circumstance tell me what you actually think of the story. I bear grudges like an elephant and technology will help me find where you live.
So, one of the major questions that haunts the residents of this little world we live in today, besides "Does Miley Cyrus actually think that sticking her tongue out and licking hammers and ish is attractive?", is the problem of racial identity. Which makes sense, what with almost every place in the world being just a hop, skip and a plane ride away now, there's been a lot of inter-racial mingling that has left a lot of people confused as to who they actually are and where they've actually come from.
You know who I'm talking about- these are the people who lie awake at night wondering whether they're Indian-American or American-Indian. That guy who doesn't know whether he's promiscuous or not- on one hand, his grandmother's French, on the other, he's part Japanese. Should he make out with that girl he just met at the party? He doesn't know, and his dad's Irish, so he's drunk too much to be sure anyway.
I, fortunately, have no such doubts. I'm an Indian, born and raised, and the longest I've spent in a foreign country is two months. On it's own, this doesn't narrow my culture down by a lot, what with India being more diverse than the entire continent of Europe (whoa, some reckless expression of views there. Cue violent arguments and caps lock abuse in the comment section), but I am also a pureblood Malayalee. Both my parents are Mal, both their parents are Mal, and although we have a distant relative who's part Goan, we don't talk about him much. Therefore, I have no doubts where I've come from (Kerala), where I'm going (Kerala) and where I'm going to spend the rest of my life (the Changshan islands off the coast of China).
Although I'M a hundred percent sure about who I am, some of you may not be. For you poor fools, I have compiled the following check list. If you answered yes to three or more of the questions below, you're probably a mallu too. Welcome to the kudumbum, cheta. Please be honest with yourself because denial is futile, and whatever else you may run and hide from, the one thing in this world that you will never escape is your mallu-ness.
Joanna Koshy's Test of Malayality:
1. Let's start off with the obvious stuff. Do you wear a pink lungi? Are you a card holding member of the Marxist party? Are your stylish but practical chappals Bata? Own up, it's nothing to be ashamed of. We all know those man-skirts are hella comfortable.
2. When your shampoo is over, do you pour water in the bottle, shake well and continue to use for the next three months?
3. When surprised, what are the words that come out of your mouth? Do you say "Golly gee?", or do you feel the need to let loose with a good, shocked "Ayyo!", with an exaggerated 'ayyy', leading up to a strong, solid 'oh' sound?
4. Do you have five hundred relatives, all of whom you regularly keep in touch with? The last time you failed to go back to your home town for Christmas, was there outrage, sobbing and explosions?
5. Wherever you're planning to go for your next holiday, is your grandmother's third cousin living in the neighbourhood and would you rather inflict your presence on her and her family than go stay in a hotel? (NOTE: Our tendency to stay with our relatives whenever we're in a new place isn't JUST our cheapness and reluctance to pay hotel bills; grandma's third cousin would be seriously offended if we didn't.)
6. Is everyone in your family a doctor and/or an engineer?
See you soon, Internet! I both hate and love you. I must return to Calculus >.<
LOOK A FOLLOW BUTTON!!!
http://questionablecontent.net/view.php?comic=2547 <-- Check this out. It's nice.
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