That’s the one line in my orkut profile that’s shocking the bejesus out of everyone. Committed? Him? What kind of silly, blind, insane, sadistic prick of a girl would ever think of being in a relationship with a guy who thinks that… with a guy who thinks! Well, laddies and ladies, here’s something from the dictionary:
Committed: (transitive verb) CONSIGN. To place in a prison or mental hospital esp. by judicial order.
It’s not a case of sour grapes, I can assure you. I believe that I am, as Bertie Wooster was, in the words of Jeeves, “One of nature’s confirmed bachelors.” I’m just not boyfriend material. College-life, though just a semester and a half old, has shown me why. What I present is wisdom gained from experiences into what it takes to be a boyfriend at:
- Amity School of Engineering.
- St. Stephen’s College
- Hindu College
- Sri Venkateshwara College
- Lady Shri Ram College
- Netaji Subhas Institute of Technology
- Delhi College of Engineering
Among others (Bethany High and FAPS, Bangalore need mentioning as primary sources in the others category). How do I know this? Fests. You are almost forced into observing and admiring the sheer valor and bravery it takes to be a boyfriend. Indeed, I openly admit my inadequacy, for I do not have what it takes. I cannot:
- Abandon all self-respect, vanity and ego; in front of my girlfriend. The mentioned qualities expand gargantually when in front of my friends, but I’m not willing to be a guy who’s so desperate to be in a relationship and have a girlfriend so as to show off in front of his mates that I’ll swallow my pride and let my self-respect be ground to the dust.
- I’m materialistic. But I’m not very well-off. That would indicate that I’ll have to sacrifice all of my desires for her. So, instead of buying that ‘The Best of The Doors’ CD I’ve been eyeing, i’ll have to get two gold-class tickets to see a crappy romantic comedy that probably stars Hugh Grant (I’m assuming that I’ll never fall in love with a girl who’ll make me see ‘Salaam-e-Ishq’. That’s just NOT happening), buy popcorn and stuff and then take her out to dinner. Riiiight.
- The process of approaching a girl without her reaching for a can of pepper spray, talking to her, convincing her to go out on a date with you and finally, getting some “hey-hey” is long, arduous and requires almost infinite resolve and infinity plus 1 reserves of patience and desperation. Of which I have neither. Besides, sex isn’t everything. It’s a lot, but it’s not everything.
- I cannot listen to things which, had they been said by anyone else, I would’ve banged my fist on the table and demanded that the person, “Stop Talking Rot!” (and I’m not sure it’s not, “Bally Rot!”), but since they come from the mouth of my girlfriend, I must listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen… and listen…
- I’ll also have to talk “Bally Rot!”. I cannot send heart-icon text messages or stuff like, “Do not sleep with a broken heart, for that heart is mine…” at midnight, rather than sending “We’re trashing Roma 6-0! This is fuckincreadible!” Or call her things like “sweetie” while she calls me “jaanu“.
- It can’t always be my fault. No it’s not! Goddammit!
- I haven’t seen ONE relationship where the guy and the girl discuss something remotely intellectual. I have seen too many relationships where all discussions are gossip.
There are perhaps more reasons, but they’ve been discussed to death and I’m starving, so I’ll stop here. To any person of the opposite sex who’s reading this (I have 1,800 hits… 1200 are Nimish, 400 are Dinesh and 189 are mine… that’s 11 readers), no offence. Nothing against you. I just value my sanity too much. Or rather, my insanity.
That’s either the gay-est thing ever, or it’s the sourest grapes ever.
Repeating the bloody obvious, isn’t it?
*IF* there was a girl that…
a. was “hot”
b. was into the same geekery as me, or you, or any other geek/nerd/intellectual/beeblebrox
c. had an opinion
…
the following would occur in chronological order
1. She’d scare every guy who approached her off
2. She’d have girly friends who’re like her or totally completely hideous and social retards
3. She’d start to go heavy metal
4. then suddenly sorta-goth
5. and then emo, without the emo-bands
As you can see, “certain” groups of boyZ don’t enter into the chronology.
Next therapy session at noon tomorrow. 10% off if you attended this one.
Here. Have a cookie.
I just realised. I must’ve scrambled your brains on the phone yesterday.
Remember what I said before hanging up, about “socially retarded due to [dot dot dot]” and “the human mind is a pattern recognition engine” ?
It’s easy mm’kay!
Nimish, don’t kid yourself. My brains were scrambled since I was born… you didn’t do a thing. I’m a born retard.
Neither gay, nor sour grapes. Simply put, I feel that relationships are not nearly intellectually fulfilling. For once, get what I’m saying. It’s a simple request.
Flaw in the chrono. Intellectual girl go Heavy Metal and then Goth? That would imply she was never intellectual in the first place!
I need some sort of addiction. Alcohol or Cocaine?
That’s either the gay-est thing ever,
Dude. I specifically wrote the article in a totally hetero outlook. Preconcieved notion + wishful thinking…
Frued’s asking, “How do you feel about your mom?”
“Flaw in the chrono. Intellectual girl go Heavy Metal and then Goth? That would imply she was never intellectual in the first place!”
How can one land at Radiohead without some shit in between?
“I specifically wrote the article in a totally hetero outlook.”
So you write articles in NON hetero outlooks as well?
Creepy bit of unwanted info right there.
“Frued’s asking, “How do you feel about your mom?” ”
The same way I feel about YOUR mom, Frued.
“I need some sort of addiction.”
Learn to play the drums. All else will flow from it. And very soon, you too will believe that you’re a fish.
I’ve always believed that I’m a hyper-intelligent shade of blue.
I may not be hyper, but I’m intelligent AND red.
Hetero outlook: Trying not to sound gay. As I’ve said, you’re twisting statements to suit your own…. fantasises?
Join the media. They’ll pay good money for that skill.
*cough*
If there was a girl who could hold her own in an intellectual conversation with a guy ( am making the questionable assumption that some such hierarchy in intellect exists) then only one thing can explain the miracle. That girl has managed to keep social pressures and expectations of supposed feminine behaviour at bay. Where this has been achieved by a supportive and enlightened familial/communal environment the girl can count herself as exceptionally lucky. In other cases women have paid huge costs for going against the tide.
The ’social retardation’ bit is unfair…you mean guys are above this tag?
cheers !
“you mean guys are above this tag?”
O.o
Nup.
*I’m trying to think of a joke here; it’s not coming together*
I guess the problem is that the phone conversation never can become public, what with being half an houur long and full of Monty Python regurgitation.
That would explain a lot.
“Join the media. They’ll pay good money for that skill.”
Good idea.
I’ll *spice up* my resume.
So Nimish says, it is stating the ‘obvious’ – gyaan which gets ingrained after a year of college life – anyhow, good on you for stringing together the ‘obvious’ with a .. ahem .. ‘hetero’ perspective.
An exultation on watching your team demolish good competition is far better than saying good night for the eleventh time to someone who has robbed you of sweet slumber.
Pandora…. Pandora… Pandora
Oh, for Cogito…
I told Nimish, on the phone during a half-an-hour conversation filled with Monty Python regurgitations, that I see beauty in numbers. Some look better than others. For no reason. His reply, being Nimish, “You’re autistic.” He then said that I’ll sleep over this comment and the next morning will wake up thinking that I’m retarded.
Didn’t happen.
I’ve always believed I’m retarded.
Nimish likes to think that he acted as a catalyst when it comes to changing a person’s outlook and attitude, but it’s usually always been there.
In my experience, the “coolest” girlfriends (by which I mean, the girlfriends that you are happy to have a beer with, or just talk shit with, and who don’t get all whingey and whiney) were once tom-boys that have blossomed into stunning women who enjoy watching the Simpsons and burping. In the bedroom she’s your girlfriend; at the pub, she’s your buddy.
So don’t worry, none of you are gay: you just want to start dating your male friends.
Now go find some girls that used to like playing with toy trucks instead of dolls.
PS. funny post, and funny comments. Clowns.
Heh. Clownage is the “continental” or “euro” eupemism for “delhi engineering”.
Now it’ll catch on in Australia too.
“Delhi engineers – world famous over 3 continents! renowned as engineers in a huge swath of land bigger than the biggest bathroom flooring tile in your homes! “
Technically speaking, I’m a Noida engineer… but who cares.
Am I even an engineer?
@Bigeyedeer:
Guess you’re right. However, the probability of finding a chick that comes under the category of “were once tom-boys that have blossomed into stunning women who enjoy watching the Simpsons and burping. In the bedroom she’s your girlfriend; at the pub, she’s your buddy.” is approximately, the total hits in the history of the internet on every porn site ever to one against.
Clowns. That the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said about me… awww….
New one, paraphrasing my favorite author ever:
“Harish Alagappa,” said Ukridge, soaring to an impressive burst of imagery, “has about as much chance as a one- armed blind man in a dark room trying to shove a pound of melted butter into a wild cat’s left ear with a red-hot needle.”
Kinda stereotyping girls, aren’t we? I’ve met some intelligent, intellectual girls that were “out of my league”, sorta. All hope isn’t lost.