IIMB so powerfully operated on all our senses that it was bound to produce a good number of blog posts. The only thing post-IIMB that's done so for me is <insert drum roll - plus a small reference to this function I went to in AVM Rajeshwari Kalyana Mandapam> -- America! What better way to come back from a hiatus than making fun of our own kith and kin - Indians (of 'All Indians are my brothers and sisters' fame)?
I was mildly horrified to note that VMM did not teach The mister ('The missus' sounds so much better than this no?) to stop rolling his r's like a motor. I was more than mildly surprised to find that it was his overcompensating reaction to living in the US. I find it much more satisfying though to say that VMM just sucks at English. Anyway.
The Indian American/Indian living in America for a long time/Indian who just set foot in an American airport in transit is a strange animal. If you examine the language centres in the brain of this animal, two things will become swiftly certain. One, that I know absolutely nothing about them whatsoever, and am prosing on about them 'cos it is just so much fun. Two, that there is a hidden cassette/CD/mp3 player (in tune with technology) that has the recorded sound of the American Rrrrr. While in India, this player is silenced, straining at the seams. It occasionally escapes its leash when the Indian talks to or even about a person in the US, is Kamal Hassan or is a TamBram uncle above the age of 50, when the player finds satisfaction in transforming harmless words such as 'hours' into 'avaRrrrrs'. However, the leash is lovingly loosened when the person crosses the Atlantic. The surrealism of it all comes to the fore when a person says 'Did you have a nice jouRrrrney? Edhaavadhu shaapadrela?'. The mind boggles.
And the children of the animals are.. just wow. Listening to them sing 'VaRrrrra veena mridduphaani' is like seeing globalization personified. Or like seeing a Beyonce from Bilekahalli.
So, the next time you hear a clicking sound on a flight to the US, you'll know it's the sound of leashes releasing. I got a fancy leash that sounds like a whistle while releasing. Listen for it.
I was mildly horrified to note that VMM did not teach The mister ('The missus' sounds so much better than this no?) to stop rolling his r's like a motor. I was more than mildly surprised to find that it was his overcompensating reaction to living in the US. I find it much more satisfying though to say that VMM just sucks at English. Anyway.
The Indian American/Indian living in America for a long time/Indian who just set foot in an American airport in transit is a strange animal. If you examine the language centres in the brain of this animal, two things will become swiftly certain. One, that I know absolutely nothing about them whatsoever, and am prosing on about them 'cos it is just so much fun. Two, that there is a hidden cassette/CD/mp3 player (in tune with technology) that has the recorded sound of the American Rrrrr. While in India, this player is silenced, straining at the seams. It occasionally escapes its leash when the Indian talks to or even about a person in the US, is Kamal Hassan or is a TamBram uncle above the age of 50, when the player finds satisfaction in transforming harmless words such as 'hours' into 'avaRrrrrs'. However, the leash is lovingly loosened when the person crosses the Atlantic. The surrealism of it all comes to the fore when a person says 'Did you have a nice jouRrrrney? Edhaavadhu shaapadrela?'. The mind boggles.
And the children of the animals are.. just wow. Listening to them sing 'VaRrrrra veena mridduphaani' is like seeing globalization personified. Or like seeing a Beyonce from Bilekahalli.
So, the next time you hear a clicking sound on a flight to the US, you'll know it's the sound of leashes releasing. I got a fancy leash that sounds like a whistle while releasing. Listen for it.
