This is perhaps the best piece that has managed to find it's way into my mailbox. Each time I read it, I can't stop laughing. Hilarious, yet tragically true!. Who wrote this piece is a mystery but the initial chain mails suggested it was some guy from IIM-A. Read on to understand the travails of Single South Indian Men....
The Travails of Single South Indian men-1
Yet another action packed weekend in Mumbai, full of fun, frolic and introspection. I have learnt many things. I have gathered many insights into the endless monotony that is the love life of South Indian men. What I have unearthed is most disheartening.
Disheartening because comprehension of these truths will not change our status anytime soon. However there is also cause for joy. We never stood a chance anyway.
What loads the dice against virile, gallant, well educated, good looking, sincere (Kanna)diggas, mallus and tams?
Our futures are shot to hell as soon as our parents bestow upon us names that are anything but alluring. I cannot imagine a more foolproof way of making sure the child remains single till classified advertisements or that maternal uncle in San Francisco thinks otherwise.
Name him "Parthasarathy Venkatachalapthy" and his inherent capability to combat celibacy is obliterated before he could even talk. He will grow to be known as Partha. Before he knows, his smart, seductively named northy classmates start calling him Paratha. No woman in their right minds will go anywhere near poor Parthasarathy. His investment banking job doesn't help either. His employer loves him though. He has no personal life you see.
By this time the Sanjay Singhs and Bobby Khans from his class have small businesses of their own and spend 60% of their lives in discos and pubs. The remaining 40% is spent coochicooing with leather and denim clad muses in their penthouse flats on Nepean Sea Road. Business is safely in the hands of the Mallu manager. After all with a name like Blossom Babykutty he cant use his 30000 salary anywhere. Blossom gave up on society when in school they automatically enrolled him for Cookery Classes. Along with all the girls.
Yes my dear reader, nomenclature is the first nail in a coffin of neglect and hormonal pandemonium. In a kinder world they would just name the poor southern male child and throw him off the balcony. "Yes Appa, we have named him Goundamani.. ." THUD. Life would have been less kinder to him anyway.
If all the women Upadhyays, Kumars, Pintos and, god forbid, the Sens and Roys in the world were distributed amongst the Arunkumars, Vadukuts and Chandramogans, we would all be merry Casanovas with 3 to 4 pretty things at each arm. But alas it is not to be.
--xx--xx--xx--xx
Click here to read the rest of the story
The Travails of Single South Indian men-1
Yet another action packed weekend in Mumbai, full of fun, frolic and introspection. I have learnt many things. I have gathered many insights into the endless monotony that is the love life of South Indian men. What I have unearthed is most disheartening.
Disheartening because comprehension of these truths will not change our status anytime soon. However there is also cause for joy. We never stood a chance anyway.
What loads the dice against virile, gallant, well educated, good looking, sincere (Kanna)diggas, mallus and tams?
Our futures are shot to hell as soon as our parents bestow upon us names that are anything but alluring. I cannot imagine a more foolproof way of making sure the child remains single till classified advertisements or that maternal uncle in San Francisco thinks otherwise.
Name him "Parthasarathy Venkatachalapthy" and his inherent capability to combat celibacy is obliterated before he could even talk. He will grow to be known as Partha. Before he knows, his smart, seductively named northy classmates start calling him Paratha. No woman in their right minds will go anywhere near poor Parthasarathy. His investment banking job doesn't help either. His employer loves him though. He has no personal life you see.
By this time the Sanjay Singhs and Bobby Khans from his class have small businesses of their own and spend 60% of their lives in discos and pubs. The remaining 40% is spent coochicooing with leather and denim clad muses in their penthouse flats on Nepean Sea Road. Business is safely in the hands of the Mallu manager. After all with a name like Blossom Babykutty he cant use his 30000 salary anywhere. Blossom gave up on society when in school they automatically enrolled him for Cookery Classes. Along with all the girls.
Yes my dear reader, nomenclature is the first nail in a coffin of neglect and hormonal pandemonium. In a kinder world they would just name the poor southern male child and throw him off the balcony. "Yes Appa, we have named him Goundamani.. ." THUD. Life would have been less kinder to him anyway.
If all the women Upadhyays, Kumars, Pintos and, god forbid, the Sens and Roys in the world were distributed amongst the Arunkumars, Vadukuts and Chandramogans, we would all be merry Casanovas with 3 to 4 pretty things at each arm. But alas it is not to be.
--xx--xx--xx--xx
Click here to read the rest of the story
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3 comments:
Really funny...........hope that second part will be much better
he he....makes me remember something too ;) ;)
This is too funny..especially the naming the child some god forsaken name-talk abt starting life with a handicap
Whoever wrote this really needs to be applauded :)
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