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Counter-resolutionary
The end of the year is nigh. When I was younger, this door-hinge signified a last-minute scamper to the local boozerie to utilise a stretch where bad behaviour had official sanction, writes Indrajit Hazra.
The end of the year is nigh. When I was younger, this door-hinge signified a last-minute scamper to the local boozerie to utilise a stretch where bad behaviour had official sanction. Nowadays, the last days of the gregarious calendar provide me with only an opportunity to hatch cunning plans. So here are ten things that I will, by the whiskers of Kurvi-Tasch, undertake over the next 12 months. Please don’t try any of these at home as this list has been made for — and by — a professional stunted man.
1. Use the f word on live television: Scientific jargon on TV has two reactions from viewers and producers: it either puts them to sleep or it awakens the nation. Considering that I’ve managed to consistently do the former with readers of this column for the last two years, by using the word ‘formaldehyde’ on TV, I stand a solid chance of stirring things up.
2. Write a novel that everyone can identify with: Tired of competing with dead (mostly white and male) authors, I’ll pull out all the stops and write a book about the awkward affections of a medical student for his sister-in-law’s sister and how he plays out this imaginary romance in his head by watching Karan Johar movies. Of course, it’ll be about the aspirations of today’s young Indians and will be written in a language they speak in.
3. Join a gym to beat the fat: Using lethargy as an excuse to be nice to people I dislike has got me nowhere. So I will hang my pride and start gymming. The release of certain chemicals in my brain will remove any inhibitions about beating up the people I detest the most: obese people.
4. Train myself to be aroused by the national flag: Patriotism being an extremely refined form of the procreative urge, I will develop a strong fondness for the nation by making a fetish out of its most alluring symbol: the tricolour. I won’t wear my patriotism on my sleeve but somewhere deeper where the shirt tucks in. Seeing the flag flutter on August 15, January 26, at the cricket stands and at the Commonwealth Games will give me such pleasure.
5. Spend a night at a Dalit home: No, there’s no erotic reason for me to do this — and no, no matter what obnoxious Brahminical male chauvinist pigs may say, Dalit girls are not easy. I just want to see how the most humble households in India live their daily lives. Thus, I will feel better about not possessing an iPhone.
6. Put my money in shares: It’s high time I get over my moral uneasiness of ‘playing’ the stock market. After watching experts on business channels and listening in on small chit-chats among fat cats, I’ll put a tidy sum into company stocks that will result in the horses I bet on winning their races. With a bit of luck, I won’t need to work for a living any more.
7. Sell mineral water: With operational costs only involving packaging, distribution and marketing, the main thing is to come up with a posh-sounding brand name like ‘Tarqua’ or ‘Asula’ — or some such gobbledygook. I’ll price my bottle at twice that of other posh mineral water companies from whose bottles I’ll pour the water in.
8. Pose myself as an anonymous food critic: By scribbling on a pad and complimenting the chef often enough, I’ll carry myself off as a food critic. When asked where my pieces will appear, I will tell the restaurant owner with a smile that I can’t tell him that, can I? After a few initial rounds, I should be able to work out a heavily subsidised mode of daily sustenance.
9. Hang out with N.D. Tiwari: Not too many people I know who aren’t giggling teenagers will be able to appreciate art house movies that show a lot of skin. With much time on his hand now and with the wisdom of octogenarians, the former Andhra Pradesh governor and I can share the finer nuances of films like Tinto Brass’ Caligula, George Bowers’ My Tutor and appreciate the lyrical innocence of a certain sequence from the masterpiece of world cinema, Raj Kapoor’s Ram Teri Ganga Maili.
10. Make New Year resolutions that I can keep: Exactly a year from now I will come up with a proper list of things to do in 2011 that will include not being late for appointments, washing my hands with soap after meals, speaking less loudly, allowing others in the room to talk, not lying, and not making promises I know I won’t be able to keep.
Have a Happy New Year and a nice, warm cup of chocolate.
