English, my mother tongue

Ingredients for this blog post

Drunk guys - 2 nos

Bench by the waterway - 1 Nos

Manhattan like skyscrapers-lit-all-over - 45 nos

"Nippy in a nice sort of way" weather - 1 tblspoon

Friday evening "no-office tommorrow" lightness of the head - 1 dollop

Before it starts sounding any more gay, let me add...

Setting flavoured with women of all shapes and sizes - To your taste

So, basically me and a friend were sitting around after office, getting drunk and discussion was veering from one thing to another. We chatted about obvious stuff like Cricket and life in London. We rambled on about arbit stuff like these skyscrapers waste so much electricity. We mulled over thoughtfully about the group of women just hanging around and who was the hottest amongst them. Heck, we even thought of approaching them but discovered that I am chicken and he is chicken little. Ofcourse, we didnt accept it. Instead, we intellectualised the crap out of it and felt like Socrates and Plato.

And then, completely out of the blue, chicken little says "You know what, my mother tongue is English. It is sad but it is true". Surprising?! Yes, coz he is a Punjabi but talks like a Pakistani. Neither of them is anywhere close to England - so, I asked - if during immigration process they stamped his tongue instead of his passport. He looked at me and gave me his "get-set-for-profundity' look. And mouthed - "english is my mother tongue as that is the only language in which I can express myself romantically. I cant say - Kamla main tumhe pyar karta hoon."

To be fair, it would sound shady. But that got me thinking. And you know what happens when a drunk guy starts thinking - aloud. (Why the eff am I spelling thinking like thingking.) Moving on.... to thinking... He might be chicken little... but he is correct. For me too, the tongue has the invisible stamp of the queen's language. Why - coz

1. I have studied English longer than Hindi. English till 12th but Hindi only till 8th. (Boards I had German. Ya I am the cool one). Before you label me as a traitor, label the marking system of Hindi as effed up. Hindi you write and write and score a measly 65. German, I was done in half an hour and scored 90.

2. I speak more English than Hindi - at the workplace, with friends (unless I am swearing ofcourse. Swearing in English just doesnt give you the kick. I mean, think about it - what sounds more spiteful - mother f or madar...

3. I once lost my Reliance cellphone. To get a new one, you have to file an FIR. I went to the police station and started writing one. It was supposed to be in Hindi. Wrote a couple of lines and then got stuck at a word. I just couldnt bloody remember how to write it. Thats when it dawned upon me - holy cow - am angootha chhap in Hindi. Anyways, a Police uncle had to show it to me. After that, he ofcourse confirmed 10 times, if I was from the adjoining campus. I felt so ashamed of myself, I came back to my room and wrote the entire Hindi alphabelt again. Ofocurse, I had to google it first!!

All the above is just to make the blog long. real reason - why English is my mothertongue - because that is the language I think in.

When did this transition happen, how did it happen - I dont know and have no real inclination to brood over it. But, I am a little sad about it. Just a little. Yes.

Namastey London


Too tired to put together a well thought out, well laid out, well structured, well blah di blah post. But not tired enough to not being able to fight the urge to not blog. After the above sentence the tiredness increased a little more and am still not sure if its correct. But wtf. Here goes a string of totally random pearls -


I have not polished my shoes for 10 days now but they are still like they were on the first day. This after I walk almost half a km, sorry a third of a mile to work.


I travel 1.5 hours to pick up Indian food.


I have been waking up at 6 ever since I have come over. I last did that when I was in school and that was 9 years back.


Ever since I have come here, I have said sorry 50,678,456 times. Let me add, it was'nt really my fault 50,678,455 of those times


Prefix 50,678,456 with another 1. Thats the number of times I have said Thank You in the last 10 days. Its become such a habit now that I have even started thanking myself everytime I open the door (for myself), press the elevator button (for who ...myself), cook dinner, fart and pee. I really dont know if I mutter the thank you sermon while I am sleeping as well.


I wonder why women around the world donot feel cold. Cut to In India, sorry North India - wedding season (January), men are wrapped in suits and what not inside. Still need the whisky, vodka and more to keep them warm. Women with utter disregard to the under 5 degree temperature waltz around in backless cholis, sleeveless blouses and what have you. Cut to London and replace the backless cholis, sleeveless blouses with short, no very short skirts, sleeveless tops, plunging necklines and ya.. a jacket but for purely ornamental purposes. Women are the same everywhere. They dont feel cold. By the way, this is just an observation. You thought, I was complaining. Thwaaaack!!!


People here work, work, work work and then work a little more. On top of this, a friend told me - New York is worse. My ans was - do they have real ppl there or just robots. Am sure, the female robots also dont feel cold.


Desis donot talk to desis. It is as if they are thinking - shoo... dont come near me or I will be found out. That kinda sucks.


I have moved around the city using the tube. And, its bloody efficient, easy to understand and uncrowded to the extent of being uneconomical.


I love cities that have an Old world charm about them. London's got that by the drum loads. Enter Central London and you see buildings 50, 100, even 200 years old and there are a lot of them. I like that. The only place which used to give me that kind of feeling in Delhi was Connaught place. After Metro, even that has become ..... mmmmm.... i dunno... NEWY.


I miss the sun. I never thought that I would say this. After all, in Delhi thats the only thing we get a lot of. First 3 days, I was good. Nice, end novembry delhi weather and I was like - why do people crib about the weather here. Now, I know why..



I wanna write more, but I wanna sleep much more. So am off. More later.