I was a bong. A mach-bhath (fish-rice) ogling, ganguly-worshipping, east-bengal-supporting, dor-baa*a-muttering, pure, unadulterated, 100% quintesential made-in-calcutta bong. I knew only bong gaaalis (swears) and they were sweet, rhythmic (try saying bo** ch **** and see what i mean), intellectually crafted (refer to the mahayan), usually non-acidic with little or no reference to the women in your family (except for ban****, which is a mis-leading translation of the more clear behen****; ban**** infact is more close to something that sushma swaraj would have liked to broadcast -- ban-fuc**** and let the swans drop the seed in your wombs dear ladies).
And then suddenly one fine hot summer day, way back in the summers of 1998, everything changed. The bong gets introduced to the bihari tongue. I had read hansel and gretel 10 summers ago, but it was then that i realized what the two misguided souls felt when they saw the cookie-&-chocolate-house. The bihari tongue was a treasure chest. It was mind-bogglingly awesome. A normal polite conversation in bihari would make you feel that your candy ass was being verbally whipped to hell and back. Forget the stupid, inane bong insults this was the real deal. The mother of all mother tongues. Who was the idiot who declared hindi to be our national language, if it was upto me it would have been good old bihari. Imagine the advantages of that, 1/6th of the world's population speaking the way Lalu does. Man-o-man wouldnt that be cool. Wouldnt the usually uncool brown indians with a funny accent be revered by those hot blonde bombshells in those pubs and nightclubs. Forget the coolest of the cool jamaican accents, the bihari accent is what those ever elusive blondes would fall for. How can they resist a pick-up line that goes :
" denkhiye (stress on the n) sandra babby hum kahe de raha hoo jyaada tem nahi na hai humre pas, nachiyega humre saath to boliye nahi to mandra humra waiting kar rahi hai oo baju me".
Bloody candy ass jamaicans with their oh-so-cool "hey maaaaaaaan" lines would have been decimated in seconds. And we blonde-ogling brownies would rule the blonde's-world with an iron rod, errr no i mean acerbic tongue.
(Maxim as as aside: Flicking acerbic tongue goes a long way to satisfy the fairer sex in general)
bhujla ki naa.. nahi bujhi.. arreee burbak ho kaa??
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