There has always been a huge communication problem between men and women in India – and the issue is more prevalent amongst men and women who own trucks. It is usual for women to not feel the need to stop and for men to not feel the need to start – talking, that is. This inability to communicate has taken totally different dimension in the last 50 years or so. OK, let me not keep the suspense any longer. Yesterday I broke into the trusted circle of Women Truck owners, and was let in on a 50-year old secret – that men and women have been communicating with each other by writing messages on the back of the trucks they owned. I asked the Lady truck owner who had let me in on the secret, “How did it all begin?” Thats when she narrated the whole story. She said: ” Way back in 1960, we Indian women were a bit traditional and shy and our Truck owning husbands had one major crib – they weren’t getting enough blow jobs.” “And then?” I enquired. “That is when the Truck Owners A...
It seems to me that one of the best indicators of this nation’s moral decay is the reprehensible nonsense that passes for humor nowadays. When I was a boy, people didn’t have time for humor. We were too busy wiping the smirk off Hitler’s face to concern ourselves with mindless tittering and idle guffaws. For us, laughter was like shoe laces or smallpox vaccines – nice to have but not a luxury most of us could afford. And when we did indulge ourselves in some mindless comic diversion we sought out decent, civilized humorists – men who told knock-knock jokes and lamented their wives outrageous spending and disappointing attempts to make pot roast. Men who peppered us with puns and poked fun at the foibles of nagging mothers-in-laws and the dangers of shady foreigners. Our comics didn’t denigrate our country’s values – they embodied them. These days though it seems that every flinty reprobate with a dirty mind and a misanthropic axe to grind is parading across the screen of my M...