Guilt of the pleasure of bitchy talk

Shut ‘em kids up

Following thoughts might hurt the sensibilities of all the parents who love their kids and whose love emanates from some unknown new found euphoria which brainwashes them to ignore the nuisance kids cause to general public in public places. I might even sound childish or immature in my observations but that’s OK because that is precisely what I call myself too.

We have heard a lot about people marginalizing themselves into confinements of self incarcerations. They are not waiting for redemptions to happen in their lives. They are just climbing stairs after stairs without checking out that there might be an elevator somewhere, happily living away their closeted existences, so to say. First marriage, then kids, then kids of kids, changing diapers, potato chips, wailing kids, all the symbols marking their ordinary, petty lives. I have not the right to be judgmental about others, but its hard to remain un-opinionated in these matters. Opinions make a man after all.

Every time you come by such people caught in the crossfire of “here or there” you almost feel that its how humans usually behave when they come in contact with a richer society, whatever that means to them. You are born in an ordinary birth, live in an ordinary society, get an ordinary education, an ordinary higher education, an ordinary further higher education, finally an ordinary job and then.

And then come the years and years and years of self denial that this is life. This is what the fuss is about. What else is there to it anyway?

Modern third world generations have an interesting twist in the story. They get their ordinary jobs abroad, which can fetch some royal living. This is a far more dangerous situation as it lends fillip to the idea of striving for that ordinary life. On one hand you have that basically unexciting life tied around 5 days a week and the dreadful 9 to 5. And believe me it is very hard to free oneself from the tyranny of 9 to 5; impossibly hard for people with families, kids and responsibilities. You can’t suddenly zone yourself out of it. Can you? In fact many of us don’t really want to. Especially the ones who get married and start asking right after “Well I got that one out of my system. What now?” and end up with kids as only possible answers. This is such a narcotic life that you are not only fully content with your jaded lives but rather start boasting about it. What if it’s peppered with wailing kids, husbands at times bashing their wives, in-laws cursing you for not bearing a boy and your parents who love to the see your back marrying you off as soon as they legally can.

And a few moments later another bitchy thought creeps in…

This idea has somehow stuck in me. I can’t seem to move on, I simply can’t. And am I the only one to hate wailing kids so much? I guess not. Kids on a flight, for instance. I bet there are quite a few of us who don’t like ‘em there. They are too unceremonious.

Second thing I hate most is the Bollywood and its corny movies. Out comes that shit time after time after time and it leaves you curbed down. It’s as if you are going under, and this constant mediocrity pervades you everywhere. The streets you walk, the elevators, bus stations, shopping malls, trains, and office. Oh yeah, office space breeds mediocrity, even thrives on it. To have such a low life treatment and lack of space to have my leaves approved by a supervisor. And don’t forget the relentless 9 to 5. The clueless, dull and boring weekends those begin too late on Saturday afternoons and end too early on Sunday mornings. Bi-yearly getaways to some sunny location where you don’t know how best to enjoy except getting bored on beaches, with a bottle of beer which you don’t enjoy after a few sips and follow that with some shitty looking Indian tasting Thai entrée with mounds of capsicum dominating the age old chicken-capsicum war in Chinese cuisine of cheap Indian restaurants.