Friday, December 26, 2008

The profusion of confusion

One month since the flood of bombs left their mark on Bombay. Bombay. Mumbai. It's the same city, just numerologically different. Personally, I've never been fond of the renaming craze, but considering our Government's rather stoic and effeminate silence, perhaps the name Mum-bai is totally applicable. The media was busy coining new phrases for putting forward the indomitable spirit of the city in between it's frequent splashes of live  exclusivity, glossing over the fact that the city thrives on a "chalta hai" attitude. The reason why we all bounce back faster after a tragedy is because of ever increasing amounts of apathy.

If the above line didn't affect you, you know you're affected.

Live death telecast. Interesting. Exclusive mass telecast. Intriguing. The same thing said over and over. Insipid.
In our hurry to push our self stamped envelopes of mass appeal, we sometimes forget that we are putting the moron in oxymoron. So in times like these it's best to sit back and laugh at ourselves at the things we say.

Take that chewing gum ad for instance. The one where the cow has beautiful teeths. Cows have udders I know, but teeths? And milk white teeths at that? Maybe this is an in-joke about doctors leaving impressions (dents in this case) on their patients at a very deep level. It could also be a McBethian reference to the milk of human kindness. After a literal bongland translation it becomes "Mamata-r dudu". Considering the considerable swaying powers (politically only please!) of that particular sample of humanity, you wouldn't wonder for long why she calls the red reign a bunch of cow-ards.

While on the topic of cows, I saw a few miserable ones being led away to their slaughter on a bloody recent religious celebration. And not just the cows, many people got themselves goats as well. After the black sheep celebrations were over, a different BA BA swooped down with its luggage problems. The world will fight, animals will be feasted on and flights will keep losing luggage. Things keep changing, but the one constant now is the getting publicity out of everything. Pubic attention is a huge motivator. Ask Britney and the rest of her friends who check into detox centres when they can't get their regular fix.

Speaking of fixing, we really should do something about our pronunciations. Each of the wrongly said ones become painful sentences in their own right. Sometime back, I saw a  venerable *snigger* Marwari gentleman being served a Chicken Quickie by a gleeful waitress who didn't care about correcting his Quiche. Or the shoe salesman who was only too happy to sell an expensive Woodlund to a drooping shopper.

Sex sells. Making fun of sex sells even more. The recent spate of stay at home homosexual comedies are a good examples innuendo in your endo. But it sounds infinitely better when the press proudly proclaims that audiences are no longer confused and coming out of the closet. So that's buy bi to confusion. Slightly literal when you think of the biPhone. There's still a fair amount of debate whether it's for the "hard-core" business user or a sleek entertainment plaything.

Asking too many questions will never get answers, only add to the profusion of the confusion. It's that much more desirable to go with the flow and lap up commercials as the absolute truth. 
But the season to get our jollies has only just begun. Cake companies are advertising their indigenous versions of the portly figure from the North Pole and inviting us to dig in. Never mind the obesity.. go anonymousse while desserting. After all, Shanta's got her claws ready too.