Monday, May 11, 2009

After 8 years of Georgy .....


Ode to the Nice Guys

This was apparently written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal. Good read.
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

The 1 lac debate

The first part of the set of question that everybody (and I really mean everybody) has been asking me since the day I got the keys of my blue baby has been the same - Why did you spend over Rs 1,00,000 on a bike (that puts out only 150cc)? Whats so special about the bike? Is it worth it? The timing couldnt have been worse. A couple of weeks after I took possession of my bike, Tata announced the release of their game changing Nano. Which costs just over Rs 1,00,000. Which brings me to the second half of the set of questions - So why not the Nano? Why a bike when you can get a good second hand car for the same price? Questions to which I had confident answers until 1 day a couple of weeks back.
While on a random unofficial unplanned mini team outing to the tea shop outside our office we saw a large crowd gathered around a couple of cars. On closer inspection we realised that the ignored of the 2 was the ubiqtuous Indica while the one that had the crowd swarming around it was a Nano, the first which I had seen outside the realms of magazines & websites. Tea plans put on hold, we decided to check out the car and boy was I floored. The seats are incredibly comfortable and the interior space can put almost all other small cars to shame. The car is in a word - brilliant & the only thing I could wish for is slightly more luggage space in the boot/under the bonnet for weekend getaways. It truly is the perfect car for someone like me who will be confined to the endless cycle of home - office - outings within the city 99% of the time. The higher end variants have all the creature comforts I require and would translate to slightly larger EMIs but it is worth the money.
A few hours later, I was all set to leave office for home when I realised that the sky was covered with clouds that had turned a sinister shade of black accompanied by strong winds that would have been better placed in the Perfect Storm. Even after an hour, the clouds continued to remain well, clouds & hoping that the rain gods would be merciful I set out on my 15km ride home. Just as I reached the busiest junction on the way home I noticed the first drop of rain that had fallen on my hand. In no time the rain dogs errrr gods were at their busiest & with no rain coat in hand, I was soaked to the bone before I could complete muttering my choisiest abuses. The only saving grace was that my phone was safe in my bag & avoided a trip to the service centre. The Nano versus R15 point had been hammered home with all the finesse of a blood thirsty barbarian on a killing spree.


And so days passed by while I searched for closure on this. On my way back home from M.G Road on a friday night, I was waiting at a red light when the guy (mid 20s) in the car next to me rolled down his window & asked me which bike. R15 I replied as I noticed his dad who was driving the car was also appreciating the bike. How much he asked. I told him the price only for him to respond with a big grin & a thumbs up. Whats the mileage he asked. Doesnt matter I replied. The grins on their faces couldnt have been bigger. And then I knew.