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Why Indians love to eat out…

17 February 2006 7 comments

Here’s my take on why I think we guys love spending our money at hotels, restaurants, fresh juice shops, fast food joints and the like.

  1. Split personality effect: KFC estimates about 30 to 40% of Indians are vegetarians. There are a lot of Brahmins and other folks who won’t or can’t have meat inside their homes. In short, they are herbis inside and carnis outside. To satisify their desires and their buds, all they got is the eateries.
  2. GDP effect: Indians, led by the great Amartya Sen, are very good at developmental economics. They are fully aware that if my Amma cooks and I eat at home, there is no addition to the GDP for her culinary skills (which I bet are out of the world, like any son) whereas when I eat outside I contribute to the GDP. The multiplier effect of each son, who thinks likewise, contributes about half the revenues of all these institutions.
  3. Migratory effect: Rising urbanisation and better opportunities for speaking/typing more leads to increasing power in the purses of this generation Indians and a higher floating population. A judicious mix of these two factors results in the eating out phenomenon.
  4. Relativity effect: All of us know Einstein’s famous theory about the time difference when you sit next to an intoxicating girl and when you put your hand into a fire if you were a kid that never grew up. We would rather spend our precious time in watching a match or the never-ending serial than cooking. In fact, the cooking is okay but the thought of having to wash the utensils puts us off.
  5. Google effect: Every self-respecting netizen is aware of Google’s mission – to organise all the world’s info and make it accessible and useful. That makes it easy for me to find restaurants across the globe and for the chefs to find exotic recipes. The poorman’s pizza in Italy gets a new life as a premium snack everywhere else. I have had the stylishly named granita in another name and at a much cheaper price back home.
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Categories: Creative, Food, Society

From logs to loves

28 December 2005 3 comments

One-five-three = “I-loves-you”, all written with the help of of tiny hearts.
This was how they indulged each other. This was the way they expressed their loves. It was beyond love, they too felt. Love was mundane.  The tiny hearts melted her little heart in cold America.

She called him up. For the first time, she was stuck for words and heard hearself stammering. “Do you mean it?”, she choked. “I think so”. They spoke for four hours.

Their long posts in the joint blog announced their union.  Blogdom celebrated the news virtually.

Categories: Creative

A log of love

16 December 2005 7 comments

He was yet another geek. Being a busy soul, he was chatting, checking his mail, listening to music, surfing at ease, watching live scores and attending to his work. More often than not, he prided himself on his multi-tasking skills. Yes, he was a creature of the modern times. One day, he was googling on cycle thieves and he spotted a post on a blog. It was link at first sight. He was impressed with the way the girl expressed herself. He read all her posts from the first year and started to like her more and more. He wanted to associate with her. Lo, he jumped onto the comments page and said, “Hey, I like the way you write. Keep writing!” On his way back home, he was reading her every word in his mind. It had been long since he read any thing and this girl was like a fresh whiff of air stimulating his senses.

She liked comments on her posts and so she said, “Thanks. Welcome.” and forgot all about it. He was excited that he had got a reply for his first comment ever. The next day he was inspired to have his own blog. He set up one and made a quick post. He went to her latest post and mentioned his blog space. In the blogosphere, guests are highly respected and hospitality is virtuous. It is customary to reciprocate visits and comment too. She dropped on to his blog and made a namesake comment. They were in different time zones and so he saw her words the next day. He wanted to write more for her. He told his brother about these incidents faithfully.

His comments on her posts soon started getting personal. He was warm, courteous and pretty affectionate. She liked the attention. His posts became better as days went by. Their blogs were increasingly popular more for the comments they traded. After a couple of weeks, she sent a mail to him. They exchanged mails for just a day. Their comfort levels had increased exponentially. It seemed that they were long lost bosom pals. From posts to mails to chats to calls, they progressed quick and fast. The fact that both of them stayed away from home helped. He stayed late at office and browsing centers to stay in touch. She had always laughed at faceless interaction and here she was in an engrossing virtual relation.

They maintained that they were good friends. To celebrate three months of their friendship, they inaugurated a joint blog. Boy, that was the most awaited event in the blogsphere. The posts now progessed to a higher plane and their readership soared. Who does not like warm tales of banter, with a decent amount of pulling cheering up their days? Four months later, she sent a teddy and chocolates on his birthday. He was at his office and was disappointed with her choice of gifts and he spoke harshly when she called to wish him. When he reached his rented flat, he found a cake from the best baker in town, a bouquet of the choicest flowers, a couple of books he always wanted to read and the latest gadget he had eyed on. He ran to the nearest browsing center and thanked her for five minutes at a stretch, without letting her speak a word. She was happy at his happiness.

It was time for her birthday. Could he come up with some thing better? He mailed a couple of her friends. When it was midnight there, it was mid-noon here.

“Boy, ISD?”. “Yes, sir”.

“Hey, happy birthday”. “$#@#$@#”

“Open your door”.

All her friends were standing, with a card holding one letter in her name each. They helped her to another room, where they cut the cake. His gift was an Indian post card, with just three numbers.

[To be continued…]

[This post is inspired by the countless souls in Tamil cinema, who have treated us to every form of love, the long distance, love at first shoot, telepathic, psychopathic, physiotherapic, dumb, deaf, blind, calf, puppy, …]

Categories: Creative