You’ll reach your college for 3rd sem arrear exam if you start for 11th half yearly.
You’ll reach for your child’s 3rd birthday if you’re going to meet your 1st ex-girlfriend.
You start for an interview and reach for your Junior’s promotion. Wait, that won’t happen! Avanukum vela kedachirukathu.
You start during Sherlock Season 5 and reach when Sherlock season 6 promo comes out.
You start for Saravanan Meenatchi… uh… you’ll still end up there.
Bullets of sweat rolled down her cheeks through her eyes,
her clothes were all shredded and her skin was darker than usual,
on the other end another young girl tried her best to gather funds,
funds that might help younger souls get education and food,
The engineers and wives signaled money only for signal implorers,
they earned more everytime the lights turned red,
the other one typed away until her eyes were red,
two corners of a society, one up there and one down there,
she was termed ‘underprevileged’ and her as an something unutterable,
When vehicles whizzed past at green light, her employer was at delight,
His eyes were set on the money she’d begged, little did the givers know,
She shared, commented and canvassed, none cared, none understood her plight,
Later they called her, ‘keyboard warrior’ and ridiculed her, none donated though,
Two corners of a society, one up there and one down there,
They both went home to one kid, one that was special for them,
one that didn’t have parents to look up, Two corners of a society, met there.
Every now and then I’m reminded that I’m fat. At first it is a very hurtful thing you hear about yourself, but later it becomes funny if you look at it from a fresh perspective, i.e. basically after you’ve lost all your self-esteem (soodu, soranai, vekkam, maanam etc.). This is common to both the genders, we are equally rolled around (no pun intended) as a toy in the society. But mind you, we are neither too fat that we get serious health problems nor the proper size who seem to have a fun life(damn you proper sizes!). I tell you, we’re not obese or unhealthily fat. Our BMI only a tad bit away from the line, which could always be fixed by some exercise(pfff). We’re not that chuchubuchiki fat where people pinch your bubbly cheeks and it wobbles cutely, No. We’re a cross between the thins and the thicks. We’re the sum product of a being a Beta Taster aka Foodies and a lazyass. We’re the people whom the thin community finds fat and the fatter community finds thin.
We’re the Middle class of Fat. *epic bgm plays with the sun setting behind the fat squad*
Let me tell you why we can’t be classified as normal sizes. First thing, we’re fit okay, not like the athlete fit, but we can get onto a running bus on our own. But in a running race where you have the chance to win 50,000 we’d definitely win it, provided that the prize is for the one who comes 5th. That’s how we Roll Yo. This is one of the reasons why we’re never chosen as a runner in a sport like cricket. But I tell you this, we might not be upper class batsmen, but we’re the Middleclass Fatsmen. We’re cursed like this okay, ‘we can run when a dog chases us because we’re not round enough to give up and athletic enough to not lose a pound of fat from our Ramba thighs.’
We face a lot of problems, and some of these are tailored for us. Unlike the problems our dresses aren’t tailored for us. We have this nether region in our body called the Thoppai or the flop belly (I’m refraining myself from using the term Beer belly since it might not apply for all.) This thoppai is a wonderful thing designed to embarrass us in Garment shops and textile showrooms. There was this one incident where there was this wonderful shirt and I wanted to buy it, but sadly it was ‘slim fit’ and obviously, it did not fit me. You leatherduckers, what about us people-u?! What about the people who have extra muscles in their equator? We and all summa va?! Returning to the point, I was trying on this shirt which narrowed down in my Madhya Pradesh where I was almost 3 months (oh shuddup you idiots). I tried my best to fit into this shirt where the shoulders, arm-length and cuffs were pakka perfect. After putting on the shirt somehow I heard a ‘klannggg’ sound. The button had launched itself from my middle earth and hit the metal door so hard that it made that ‘Klang’ sound. Then what? I nice ah came out of the building. I will miss you, shirt. Don’t even get me started about tucking in shirts.
There are those times with the other gender where you have to hold your stomach inside so that they don’t see your pot belly. You have to be so conscious that you don’t look like Ganesha’s Dupe, because you do not want to end up single like him. Though we often get called names by our friends there would be these relatives and random people who automatically assume that you are the elder one in the Family, sometimes you get Chithapa and Peripa roles too, Rejoice! Your shape is so funny that it resembles a vertical Poori Kattai (dough rolling pin). Little feet, small head and a potato in between. When eating out with friends you have to simultaneously eat and also dodge the comments and bad jokes (seriously mokka people) which say that you might become fatter in future, and you have to position the camera like Periya P.C.Sreeram to get a good picture. Shabba. At the end of the day you’re left feeling funny and healthy.
On a serious note, overweight is a looming problem that is affecting so many people. please try to help your overweight friends as much as you can, emotionally and physically. Try not to tease them as much. I know many who try their best to reduce their weight earnestly and get healthy. My hearty appreciations to those people and may you be in your best health.
Disclaimer: I’m sorry If I’ve hurt someone. Just a blob being a blogger. Thanks.
Yesterday night around 11.30 I was rolling uneasily on my bed. With the mosquitoes doing a Buzz session near my ears and donating my blood to themselves, it wasn’t very easy for me to sleep. Out of sheer boredom I get up to get a midnight snack from our fridge. But then something catches my eye, I see a white shade of light moving over the wall outside my room door, I feel a tinge creep through my skin, its fear. I shudder and try not to breathe loudly, but the dancing light was making it very difficult. I silently drop down on my bed.
Now, I was sitting up right on my pillow now trying to comprehend the white light over the wall. Fueled by the scary ghost stories and the horror movies I’ve seen all my life, I turned multiple time behind to see if there was any bony hand coming out of the darkness to get me or pairs of red eyes peering over me through the shadow. Thankfully there was none. But I was still spooked out by the weird light outside my room, “what was it?”. Gathering courage, I get up and take my first step and my heart stops. I realize I have stepped over something squishy and flat. I was so scared that I heard my own heart beat. *dum dip dum dip dum dip*
Too afraid to move I, keep my foot on the thing, running a thousand guesses on what it might be and how to tackle it if it attacks me. And then a a brute force pushes me out of balance. To afraid turn back, my eyes fall on the light, the light that made me question my existence, the light that denied me of my midnight snack, the light that made me forget that I needed to pee. The light that was reflecting from the new shiny chandelier/wind chime like thing my mom made out of her new hobby. I breathe a sigh of relief and switch off the light creeped me out through the chandelier.
I went back to sleep realizing two things.
1. Imagination is deadly.
2. Do not step on your brother’s hand, He will push you, even if it’s at midnight.
“Dei, Saniyaney kannu theriyatha unaku”
Pre-disclaimer– This is my attempt at portraying the difficulties of being a male child in a typical Indian family in a comic tone. There is some cringe worthy stuff inside this blog which you might not want to read, then kindly like the blog and shoo away. If I’ve hurt or if there is a lapse in logic or if I’ve made mistakes, I’d try my best to correct them when pointed out earnestly.
Unless you’re a boy child you wouldn’t know how difficult it is to be one. Ever since you’re born, shit ton of things are expected from you. Right from the moment your head stands on its own and you say, ‘chuchu’, there are a lot things people want you to be and it is not a simple feat achieving them. I have tried my best to compile a comprehensive and humorous blog on how (not) to be an ideal Male child or Be Sharmaji’s son. Also let me tell you the two reasons why I’m writing only about men and not women,
- I’m a Male human.
- Sadly, I’m a son too.
The difficulty of being a son starts early, you’re expected to be cute, intelligent and still hold the baby charm at the same time. You should know how to spell long words, know rhymes, thirukural, tell poems, write novels, solve calculus, become scientist and go to mars. Dei how da? When I was little I didn’t even know how to wear jetti(underwear) properly, how would I know how to pronounce lorry? The best I could do was Rolly, Sorry Mum and Dad. First patient eh baedhi baby.
Udaney comes the pre-school and primary. By now we should’ve been excelling at sports, studies and arts, but the tables turn when we grow up though. I’ve heard from modern parents that they’re upset that their child is unable unlock the phone by itself. Aiyo paavam
Then Comes one of the most difficult stages of being a boy – The puberty (don’t imagine flashing lights and big banners, that’s strictly for girls). For girls it’s a function for us boys it’s a hard time getting up (boys will know). Dei they celebrate you growing into pretty people and give you all kinds of jewellery, but what we get called, ‘kada maadu’(grown cow) of increasing frequency. Yes, we understand your difficulty in puberty girls, with the period and cramps and all, but there is certain stuff where men find it difficult to cope with too. One of the major frustrations is body hair, it grows everywhere, like all over da. You do not know how many times it gets caught in your clothes and punishes you every time by stripping away chunks of hair. And there are times where hair doesn’t grow where it has to, Poor bald men. May lightning slip on your heads and you never be called vazhukupaarai.
Don’t even get me started about clothes, nothing fits. In a span of 3 years you grow more than 3 sizes, I can see the eye roll from the other gender. Hey you have so many types and styles of clothes to try out! All we have is four clothes- two inners and two outers. Pants which used to be loose barely fits your arm, Zips? They’re a nightmare. Threatening to reduce your shot at making family every time you use that Zip. Maatna Margaya. Our shoulders become broad that neither L or X dresses fit. XL makes us look like a blown out balloon. But there are a few who seem to stay little even after the growth spurt, aama growth-u spurt-u.
Grow up a little more and you’re forced to become an engineer, and I can assure you that men are forced into Engineering more. Engineering goes away in a confused state whether to love or not. Don’t worry mostly Single than. You somehow manage to get a date and go to some restaurant, Anga pona etho Chivalry aam, Men must pay. Pocket money, Saavu Mani.
While you’re here trying to comprehend the stuff that’s going around you there will be a particular boy who will get more marks than you and do more internships than you, that idiot is your best friend from school. Aapu begins there. If academics is in this state, your ego takes a hit when you see a guy younger than you with more certificates. Ippovey kannakattuthey
Appadiye shifting to home, your chance of getting new things and clothes reduces if you have an elder brother or elder male cousins. You are the one that get all the second hands. After evading everything in home and college you come out. There stands a group just to brand you, the society. And I share this with our opposite gender humans, we both get judged.
Poriki if you have beard, pazham if you shave, rowdy if your haircut is snazzy, loosu if your dressing sense is different. Talking about haircuts one single mess-up can make you move to a different state and change your identity. I have seen guys skip school and college after having a bad haircut. We don’t have bad hair days, rather we have bad-hair-months-leading-to-identity-crisis situations. Beards are a lost cause, your friend has a sage beard and buys beard wax and mush oil while your chin has a single hair which you’re forced to be proud of. Ushabbba.
Seri, when you come home amma wants you to fix her grinder. You wonder why, Nee Engineer da mundam, says your brain. But how? Just because you do engineering doesn’t mean you can fix it, amma doesn’t know this. Avlothan. Appa comes over to questions you to boredom and gives career advice and life lessons, free of cost da!.
Then comes the working stage. Suddenly from being super broke you’re blessed with your own salary, wait wait, mom and dad make you responsible by handing you some bills, pfff yeah, ‘some’ bills. At the end of the month after trying your best to be a good son you’re left with spare cash which is enough only to buy two plates of paani poori.
Jumping over all this, you’re not even allowed to choose your favourite color, Men like blue da macha, No. I like purple, cyan and mauve. Maavu ah? Aama, Maavu than.
Added to this is a list where men are frowned upon if they don’t know to ride a bike. Once my relative gave had a culture shock reaction with vaai aaa open until his wife closed it. Dei I know cooking, you knowva?!, I make very good Pongal and vadakari.
All this also okanynga, the most difficult thing is managing people from your own gender, if you don’t smoke you’re a wuss, if you don’t drink you’re a loser. “if you don’t try all these then what’s the use in living life?” echoes a question from the past. Apparam, Who said all men are strong and courageous? Yov I have been in a very few fights all my life and what nambikkai you send me with mom at 10.30 pm ah? Dei road dogs da, they bow bow once and bite twice da, please no.
Sports, yet another head ache. After receiving multiple frown-downs, I found out that all you have to do is say,’oh aama la, what a great match’ to everything related to sports, believe me it works. Also men are not allowed to cry, Boys azhakoodathu man.
The worst one happens to be the judging based on physical presence, your accidental bumps can lead you to police stations, beware. After all this there is a statistics that say men have a shorter life span. I was not ready da moment.
With all this being said, being a man is as difficult as being any other Gender with all due respect, sometimes in lesser and sometimes in greater magnitude. Let men be men.
Post-Disclaimer – The events, characters and relatives depicted in this blog are fictitious (summa luluvaiku). Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or firms is purely coincidental or unfortunate (looking at the bald and short men, sorry)”. Wait what? Doesn’t that negate the whole point of the blog? Either that or some of these things is a lie. This is merely a try from my side. Any kind of comment is welcome.