Years after, many many years after I have passed out of school, college and every other form of education, I now hear from everyone around that ‘asking’ is the way of learning. It means an undying quest to learn. Someone told me that ‘Jiddu Krishnamoorthy’ is the dude who spreading this new funda.
I like it.
Since nobody told me this when I was in school (not that I had too many questions to ask), let me ask my set of questions before it is too late. My brain is filled with too many questions that is obstructing my day to day life. But not the kind of intelligent questions that Jiddu expects innocent kids to ask, but more stupid ones that are badly hampering my ‘ignorance is bliss’ existence. Questions that only seem to be bothering me, because when I look around, everyone seems damn happy. And if they aren’t, they have a very valid unanswerable existential question to fall back upon, like ‘What is the purpose of my life?’ kind of questions.
Well, till I get my own such brilliant question, I need answers for my stupid ones. So that I can then elevate my brain to higher level problems.
To begin with, now that I’m moving house, after a good seven bloody years, I’m dealing with one question that I can’t hold on to anymore. Why is a rent agreement the way it is? I mean, I cannot believe that lakhs and crores of people are drafting such agreements everyday without a brain haemorrhage.
I really want to meet this man who invented these words. Who the fuck says ‘hereinafter’ or ‘hereinbefore’?. Three words squeezed into one. They take simple words like ‘tenant’ and ‘landlord’ and make them into lessee’s and lessor’s and squeeze them between un-punctuated threeinone words like hereinbefore and whomsoever and expand this simple negotiation of rent and deposit into a chapter from National Law School syllabus. And then this difficult chapter is then published on a stamp paper. I shudder to think how would they have drafted the Jan Lok Pal Bill. I’m sure it’s drafted with 6-in-1 words. Reason why it’s not getting cleared.
The real estate agent asked me “Saar, should I make agreement in 250 rupees stamp paper or 500?
“What is the difference?”
“Nothing saar. It’s totally your wish. I mean you can even do it even on 100 rupees. But difficult to get 100 rupee stamp paper saar.”
“But what is the advantage of making it on a 500 rupee stamp paper?”
“Saar…like that no advantage and all saar. It is totally dependent on you. Whatever you wish….but better 1000 rupee stamp paper saar.”
“Why?”
“Safer saar.”
Now, the only question that remains in my head is “Should I ponder over this or not?”. In the limited time that I have in this world, is this a question that is worth taking on or should I rather invest that time on ‘Bob Dylan’s lyrics’ and try to figure out what was he exactly trying to say in all his songs. Which would give me more fruitful results?
But honestly, how many of such basic questions can I procrastinate? I still need to set aside some time to think about why did they fuck our heads in school teaching us that the locomotive organ of amoeba is pseudopodia. I’ve been dying to use this piece of information ever since I gathered it. OR what really is the use of ‘Homo Sapiens’ when the whole world has come to terms with ‘Human Beings’? Was it some kind of a prank by some Latin bloke who is trying to preserve his language from going totally extinct.
I guess it would mean wasting reams and reams of paper by printing new text books. Which probably is more costly than this mistake. And on the stamp paper problem it would mean many typists, xerox people, real estate agents etc. would be out of a job if it weren’t so complicated. I have no choice than to simplify this in my head. While I’ve found my own coping mechanism to deal with these I still can’t find answers to some others which are eating me up alive.
Like the PNR. If it is the most important shit that most airline chaps, travel agents and world in general is keen about, why the fuck is it hidden away in some corner. And sometimes not even mentioned. Ha ha…did you know that PNR means Passenger Name Record. The airline way of making it seem all important, formal and crap. Actually I haven’t understood why is there no standard format for an air ticket. This seems like too small a crib, but it’s bigger than the ‘Homo Sapiens’ problem because it affects your life. Your day-to-day life. Because that guard who stops you to check your ticket at the entrance of the airport is groping all over the place. Just to figure out 3 things. Your name and where and when the fuck are you going? And just because this information is all over the place, he is too. And you are just standing in that queue wondering if you’ll make it. Or are you going to hear a Hollywoodish dialogue ‘Sorry, the captain has already signed the papers.”
I mean things that need to be big and bold need to be big and bold. and in a place where the eye can reach without wandering all over. Like in my newspaper, if only the date appeared big and bold then I wouldn’t be reading about Schumacher retiring and wondering why he keeps on retiring.
Talking about ‘difficult to read things’, the next in my hit list is manufacturing dates in that smudgy black ink. You first spend time in figuring out where the fuck is it tucked away? On the lid, under the carton, beside the price or some random corner…you then spend time figuring out if the 8 is a 8 or a 6, if the 4 is 1 or 7, or if 3 is an 8. And once you’ve locked in on your guess you then search for the expiry date that is hidden away in some other random place. ‘Best before 8 months from manufacture.’ Now that’s a good two minutes of my life which I could have spent listening to Raahat Fateh Ali Khan’s new track in Dedh Ishqiya which I have still not got the time to listen to, because I don’t have that 2 minutes.
I have just discovered that I am not busy. It’s just that the world is making me spend my time on the most futile shit. Spending it on getting OTPs for online transactions, registering my details on every stupid site, sorting my spam mail, trying to block linked-in mails, figuring out why there are 77 buttons on my TV remote, trying to reach customer care by jabbing 1 and then 4 and then 3 and then 5 and then 7 and then 8 and finally 9 to speak to the service advisor, inventing new passwords for expiring passwords, waiting for waiters, waiting for waiters to bring your order and then waiting for the bill and then waiting for the change, finding charging points for my phone, trying to figure out the private settings on facebook, opening a bubblegum, trying to separate the wrapper from bubblegum, searching for a bin to dispose the wrapper and then searching for a bin to dispose the bubblegum, and waiting for ads to finish on youtube, advance searching on google…I am sure that there is a good Al Pacino film waiting to be discovered by me in this time.
And in the meanwhile there are other questions that are threatening to baffle my innocent mind..
Why is an air conditioner measured in tonne’s when it should actually be the square feet it can cover?
Why is a refrigerator measured in litres…when it should be measured by size?
How can anyone buy a headphone without being able to try it before buying?
Why is a Pepsi fridge-pack bottle-shaped and not square-shaped like Real juice to fit into your refrigerator? Or at least have a more stable bottom so that it doesn’t topple down every time I even tip-toe beside it.
Why don’t darshinis sell idlis in the evening?
And Colgate says ‘cavity protection’ on its pack. Shouldn’t it be ‘protection from cavities’?
All kids-wear brands have sizes in 18 to 24 months and then it jumps to size 4 to 5 years. So do 3 year olds have to walk naked or in oversized clothes?
How can they have a fall collection and spring collection in India when those seasons don’t exist here?
And for what joy does the Airtel ebill that has been mailed to my personal id need a password? Who would want to pay my bill?
Why is the word ‘curd’ not there in any default dictionary in a mobile phone? Okay, they call it yoghurt? Then why the fuck don’t they call ‘tofu’, bean yoghurt?
And thinking of curds, why does no ‘Set Dahi’ brand have a lid to seal it back instead of making us suffer by trying to precariously tear open that stupid silver foil and then reseal it?
What is 12 at night? Am or PM?
I have a Samsung A/c that has an anti-bacteria button. If it’s a feature in the A/C, why should I press a button to activate it? Under what circumstances would I not want anti-bacteria air?
Who is this man in the universe who can teach us how to exactly rip open an alpenliebe candy from its wrapper?
How can you call it ‘Food World’ and then sell soaps and brooms?
What the fuck can I do with a Aadhar card that I can’t do without?
If home theatres are sold with 5 output speakers and 7 output speakers, then what is 5.1 and 7.1? Why waste that ‘.’ and that ‘1’?
Why is the ‘domestic’ airport of Mumbai called Chatrapathi Sivaji International Airport?
Why do hotels make a big deal of their ‘welcome drink’ which is some shitty Fanta, and put ‘complimentary’ tags on their 12 rupee water bottles when they charge 10k a night? And not have latches in their bathrooms and faucets in their loos.
I know these are first world problems and are way down in the list below ‘why is there war?’ or ‘deforestation should be stopped’ kind of problems.
But I’ll wait for my turn.
In the meanwhile I read this on the internet.”whatever material they made that ‘black box’ with, why the fuck can’t they make the entire airplane with that shit?”
I want to find out who wrote that and make him the president of the world.
Dinchak Disco 