Saturday, October 2, 2010

Chris Evert's bitch (Redux--Is that the right spelling)

What all this outrage with Rick Sanchez and the suicide of a Rutgers U. student not to mention Dr. Laura on my part, I can't help wonder if I should put my religion as Christian Dependent Hindu on my facebook page. Yes, you can make high marks from your village, not covet someone's money or wife, and have an educated family. But since I'm in city, I have to know a spatter of Christianity. I know Christianity but not enough to leave Christians behind. But I can talk Christian, walk Christian, and laugh Christian. Because Anglo-Christianity is a funny religion.

Enough of Amitabh Bachchan, when it comes to religion, I consider myself one. Why? Easy. So, I can be competitive but I don't have to convert. Just lose to Chris Evert and be happy for the rest of your life. You can be rich, succesful or just pathetic. But underneath that, lies my phonies. I actually want to win and conquer but I can't. Ah, Ah. (Laugh people, c'mon). I'm must have some white in my genes but I'm not Sandy Koufax (how did he strikeout Mantle, Maris and Pepitone with ease?) or Arthur Ashe (how did he beat Jimmy Connors?). Maybe, you need to marry a Christian (an Anglican one) like Hank Greenberg or Yassir Arafat did to deal with pressure issues.

What did I do, blame your own, blame others, bully others, or help others? No, you look the other way when you are feeling left out.

Blair est puella. I remember that line written by my exploratory class in 8th grade. Homophobic, yeah. I wasn't for him or against but I looked away and joined in at times with those phobes with giggles and smirks. I made references to Eddie Murphy's "Delirious." Fitting in but trying to look reluctant. A girl named Amy Ross stuck up for him in math and here I was complaining about being an outsider to her and she befriended for me. But she scolded me too and said that he is going to commit suicide, if I didn't do something. I don't know what happened to him but I don't think it was all good. The taunts continued till he left as well as when he left. I looked away.

Oh, Lord Byron or was that Bharin before? My mind is so narrow.

Considering the consideration which became an ultimatum, I became Chris Evert's bitch and got out. You can tell that Vijay Merchant or Hazare! Likewise, to Wassim Raja and Bari! Because that match wasn't really that important compared to the one in Melbourne City or Wankede stadium. Yet, I didn't consider the consequences, very cafefully from that time to now and still don't. In this crease, action speaks louder than my words.


*** references from Amitabh Bachchan dialogue from Namak Hallal (1982). Not intention to be plagirized for distribution.