Poor Me


I was told to write something funny here, and after spending an hour or so, thinking what to write I gave up. I was really depressed and so I went to pee. Yeah! That’s what I do when I am depressed (I wonder what would happen if I am paragliding and my girlfriend calls me and breaks up while I am on flight!). So, coming back to the topic, I thought I didn’t have the inspiration to be funny and so I went to pee and in the bathroom mirror I saw my face and suddenly, I got enough motivation to write comedy- Face Value hunnnh!
Well! Talking of Mumbai, the city has taught me a lot of lessons. I first came to this city on a vacation six years ago from a city called Kanpur- Yes the one which has IIT ‘in’ it. Many a times when I say Kanpur guys say, “IIT Kanpur!” No Freak! I wasn’t born and brought up in IIT Kanpur, I was born and brought up in Kanpur which has IIT ‘in’ it.
Anyway, when I came to Mumbai I had heard a lot about Taxi drivers pulling out a fast one on first timers. But I had a condescending opinion about my intelligence. It happened to me that I arrived at CST, my brother lived in Thane, he told me to catch a train and come over. Now I had heard that there are separate stations for local trains. So I came out of the station and took a taxi. “Local station” I said. He dropped the meter down and drove away with me.
Now I had a ‘strategy’ made for the Taxi drivers. I took him into the ‘kahaan se ho bhaiyya?’ ruse and tried to pull strings with him. Being from the same region in a distant city can often win you confidence of each other, so after an hour long drive through the busiest roads and quite ‘warm and congenial’ chit chatting he stopped next to a subway and told me to take the subway to reach the station. By now we had become almost school pals and he charged me just eight hundred bucks when the meter read a thousand. My strategy had worked and oozing with self-
congratulation I walked through the subway into the station to be caught astounded- It was the same bloody station I boarded the taxi from. Lesson- Taxi drivers here are dear to no one.
Second thing I learned here is about the girls. Never offer a drink to a girl in Mumbai- they are bloody drunkards. They will rip your pocket off. I mean look at the girls back in my city, they are sweet, they are shy and they are allergic to even smoke. “Don’t kiss me, you just smoke a cigarette”, my girlfriend says. But here, they won’t kiss you if your brand is not Marlboro. “Chhoti Goldflake! Give me some air dude.”
The girls here are crook. The other night I went to a bar, saw very gorgeous looking girl, I approached her and offered her a drink, she smilingly accepted. The bitch gulped down three large pegs before telling me that she was a lesbian. Yeah lesbians… you find them here. And they don’t even have a dress code! I mean how a guy like me would know whether she is a lesbian or not.
The other reason I don’t like the girls of this city is- that they don’t like me. Actually they are judgmental and as a matter of fact generally they don’t like guys from UP and Bihar. Now how impractical of them is that when 60-70% guys here, are from UP and Bihar. Now logically speaking, if they reject all of us and they find rest 30% incompatible, given their picky nature. All they would be left with is their Vodafone Pugs to spend life with.
And finally, the best thing about Mumbai which I have learned and observed here is that people here have big dreams. In fact, it is the only place I have ever seen where your dream is even bigger than your organ(s). Now here we have people coming from different parts of the country, and in order stay motivated in the pursuit of their dreams they have role models to co-relate with. For example- a guy from Gujrat would be inspired by the story of Dhirubhai, guy from Punjab would relate himself with Dharmendra, a guy from Allahabad can take an example from Mr. Bachchan. Sad for me- as we have Altaf Raja from Kanpur.


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