(To understand the context, please read the stimulus in the following link first :
http://raagshahana.blogspot.com/2011/09/open-letter-to-delhi-boy.html)
Dear Madrasan
Kiddan? Ki hoya tenu? Why do you hold grudges against Delhi? Hasn’t your mother told you it’s the capital of a country known as India and that there’s a mix of cultures that live together here? Perhaps you didn't find macho men flaunting their hand-long mustaches, or body-long lungis in every nook and corner. Is THAT what's pissing you off?
Let me take you through a journey of your life then, and clarify some mal(lu)-interpretations you hold. (Spare 5 minutes, yenna rascala)
Why the hell did you leave your home country (South India) and come to Delhi in the first place? Do they have idli-making factories that employ retards here? Or did you just want a break and your ‘Amma’ told you to go visit ‘some country beyond the Vindhyas’?
I’m sure, when you first came here, you would’ve been shocked by the way of life here. Woh kya hai na jaaneman, there’s a biased sex ratio here, and so a demand-supply gap. But why are you ‘lemons’ so interested in it? What’s wrong with the LSR or Stephens’ girls? They worked really hard in their high schools to get the privilege of studying there, when you were still dreaming about cracking IIT, or becoming a writer or a journalist (but alas, landed up with an idli-making job in Delhi). Just because they are fairer and smarter and sexier than you can ever be, does THAT lead to an inferiority complex, poor girl?
And your description of the ‘Delhi boy’. Oh my, did he wrap a coconut up in a banana leaf and put it down your throat while you were praying for Rajnikanth’s long life? I’m a Delhi boy as well (and Punjabi, for your kind information). I studied in a Christian school, went to a premier engineering college (where there were fewer South Indians, I must admit) and now study in a premier b-school (where South Indians galore, I must admit). I respect people from all walks of life who are true Indians. (‘South’ prefix ignored). But it disturbs me when we’re having a group chat and you start talking in ‘your’ language. (What is your mother tongue? Madrasi or Tambi? I don’t give a damn dude). You occasionally call me to your hostel room just so I can observe your odd-colored bedsheets (are the blue ones with white stripes lungis? I’m sorry - I thought they were curtains). Why the hell are you usually quiet at parties, and suddenly tackle the dance floor as being part of your Appa’s ‘Reeyaal estate’ when an occasional number from ‘Tollywood’ springs up? (Did your sister teach you how to dance on it? And did she tell you that Bhangra and Gidda are dance forms, and not martial arts?) I thought you were smart enough to understand Hindi. I’m sorry, we don’t have a counterpart to Tollywood in North India. What makes you whistle, dance on ‘Apdi Pode’ or get ‘Dhinka Chika’ engraved on your bike? (Does that make you more ‘black’ any more than it makes me a ‘white’?) And yes, I occasionally send messages using ‘tht’ for ‘dat’ for ‘that’. What’s wrong with ‘tht’? (And what’s wrong with ‘u’?) Is THAT what makes me a ‘Delhi boy’? Will you be pleased enough if I sent you a Rajnikanth-is-your-God type PJ, rather than what I think of you?
And by the way, what’s your issue with ‘Punjabi’? Haven’t you tried Punjabi food yet, kudiye? (South India mein roti vagyarah ka koi concept hota hai kya?) Did you ever read in Geography that a bit (read 10%) of that ‘Chawl’ you eat daily comes from Punjab? Was your History professor kind enough to tell you that my great-grandfather was a freedom fighter, and that my grandfather fleed Pakistan because he wanted to live in ‘one’ India (South India included)? And you know what, I have an Airtel set top box in my house. For an INR 262 subscription (What currency do you have in South India, btw? Rajni-Rupee or Dosa-Dollar?) I get 69% South Indian channels. I’d rather watch an old Hindi movie (and so does my cousin Jassi) than watch 2 rascalas in lungis with swords in their hands, fighting to marry a girl from your country (but of course you know the one with the bigger mustache wins, 99.89 % of the time). Is that what makes me a ‘Punjabi’? Or is it that though I’m confident enough to talk to your ‘Amma’ if I ever want to marry you, I’m not able to talk in that ‘hindre aundre’ language she majored in back in IIT-O (Idiots’ Institute for Tambis – Only)? What accent is that, those ‘Saar, heez fraam Nardindia’? Vernacular English?
And the next time when you write a blog post, be kind enough to write it in simple and distinctly understandable language, preferably English. I know you love Shakespeare and have been reading ‘Harry Potter’ and ‘Amartya Sen’ since the day your ‘Amma-Appa’ conceived you. The point is, not everyone is from South India or can understand what you try to hide under the disguise of your erudition.
Yours
Dilli da Punjabi munda.
P.S.: This work should not be seen under the light of racism or whatsoever comes to your mind. It is purely intended to tell those who come from other states (to mostly Delhi) not to misjudge people living there, based purely on their bad experience with some morons (that anyway exist everywhere). Please shed all the stereotypes and pre-conceived notions and live with an open mind. So the next time you point a finger to anyone and think of generalizing, beware.
