James Bong - The Spy who Scrapped me

It was the summer of 03 when Jishnu banerjee aka JB first saw American Pie on his friend’s new PC . He had lied to his parents about going to Debashish’s house for studying. Debashish had lied to his parents about his stomach ache so as not to go on his parent’s trip to Digha. They were home alone and that only meant one thing, watching forbidden American movies. There were too afraid to ask the CD Rental guy for the real good stuff and no fun in Schwarzenegger movies now so they settled for the movie which would change his life, American Pie. While Debashish could only care about Shannon Elizabeth’s bare breasts JB saw the deeper meaning in the movie. It was not a teen – comedy, or love story or social commentary. It was but a Rallying cry for ‘every man who should be getting laid but isn’t’. It was a message for the involuntary celibates of the world to unite and fight for their right, that is sex. Of course it required some modifications for Indian Culture. Most kids around him didn’t even know what second base was, let alone been to it. Indian high schools were nothing like American high schools, there were no cheerleaders, everybody wore uniform, and only high point was when Mrs. Das looked down to correct the papers. But hope was around the corner. Across the corner lay short skirts, songs in the canteen, dances in basketball court, freedom or in other words College.

JB got into Jadavpur University, his dad’s dream or rather second dream, first was IIT Kharagpur. Though his dad was a little disappointed of him getting into Mechanical Engineering; according to him the real action lied in IT, he would soon realize that, but not in the sense his dad meant.

After 6 months of short hair, formals, dancing on ‘atariya pe lotan kaburtar’ and running around in his underwear finally he got to step into fabled hallows of the canteen. And it was nothing like he imagined, no girls in short skirts, no guys dancing on table tops, nobody sharing a cold drink with two straws. Instead there were girls with hairy arms, guys fighting over a piece of samosa and the fat canteen owner scratching his belly. This is not what he had hoped for, after finding out there was only 1 girl in all the 4 years of mechanical and she was a girl by a long stretch of imagination, all his hopes laid on the canteen and girls in the IT departments. All his dreams came crashing down, this seemed even worse than school, at least no one came to school in bathroom slippers. At that he moment he realized that there was no strip poker, no beer funnel, and no frat parties in store for him. And all the few girls that were there lay way out of his league and his social circles. Most of his time would be spent attending soporific lectures, drooling over Jenna Jameson and the company of his left hand. The world was a very dark place now.

But then came light in his dark world, the shining beacon in the place devoid of any hope, joy or coitus. Orkut. The story was that the guy created this site to meet his ex girl friend who was lost for 8 years. JB didn’t give a rat’s ass for whom and why, all he heard that there is where the hot girls of Calcutta were, posing in provocative poses and waiting for the right guy to seduce them. On Orkut you didn’t need a car, not even a bike to pick up a girl, money didn’t make your profile better and girls would never get to know if you stammer or spit when you talk. It was a level playing field; he was sure that god was out there somewhere, for nothing less divine could have made such a site. It was time to dig out his old e-mail address JB_007@hotmail.com which he had formed to ask his cousin studying in Texas to get him a cowboy hat, apparently the mail got lost before reaching him, as he never replied to him.

Project Orkut was initiated. He realized that his normal persona was not going to help him pick chicks, not in the real world, not online or alien. He needed a new personality, a character that was smooth yet restrained, cool yet sophisticated, someone who got all the women but wasn’t trying too hard. In short someone exact opposite to him. And this only meant one man, the legendary agent from MI- 6 with his numbers as 007. In his excitement he didn’t even notice the typo when he named his profile as JáMěs BōnG. It was now time to flesh out the rest of the profile. Of course he wasn’t actually in horse breeding and fast race cars but he would have been if he had the money. And of course he didn’t play polo and squash or was in body building but he would surely like to and he hadn’t read, War and Peace and all the 16 sonnets of Shakespeare but he would someday. Orkut was the place where you weren’t bogged down by your current circumstances and could be all that you aspired to be. The real tricky part was the ‘About Me’, this was like the heat tempered, 108° drill bit of the drill which would penetrate the material. So he decided to extra research on that finally he came with his masterpiece. If Mrs. Sequiera had seen this she would have surely kissed him, he mentally made a note of looking up for Mrs Sequiera or her even hotter daughter on Orkut. Here it was – 

Hello there cute and charming gals and girls

i would to u make new friend and im introducing about my self ..
Im a positively possessive attitude that fuels the undying zeal to work for broader prospects puts me where I am today. A young lad hailing from Asansol who has seen the dark side of the life only to light up the future. A man with proven track in intelligenze (I study in Jadavpur University, 1^st year B.E.) and dreaming of one day to have one my own software company. I like guns and fast cars and my Martini shaken not stirred.

By the bye my name is "Jishnu banerjee" with 18 ears of experience on the earth. I would like to make friendship with u if u are interested please add me or feel free to call..
Awaiting for your reply

P.S. - I wrote this 4 years back when Orkut was cooling down and the star of Facebook was rising. But today I thought what the hell and posted this. Coz I wanted to post something on my blog just for the heck of it. I had a whole series of these planned earlier ,  next one was - James Bong : From Calcutta with love.Might still do it if enough people 'Like' this.

And of course there was no intention of making fun of Bengalis (this time), but just James Bong rhymed with James Bond, so I'm sorry for doing this.

P.P.S - I plan to continue my 'Murder She Thought' Trilogy (ooh I love this word - Trilogy) but I'm stuck up on one plot point here and not able to resolve it. I will get back to it as soon as I do. Mental note to self - Get all these ready before you start writing a story and don't get ideas mid-way.

The five girls you meet in India

"Ryan Bingham: I'm like my mother, I stereotype. It's faster."

Delhi – 

Delhi requires a big purse, big car, big biceps, and possibly other big parts too. Be prepared to dole out serious cash when you take her to the Orange Room for Bloody Mary, Khan Chacha for kababs and then a drive around India Gate in your rented sedan, finally ending up at your distant cousin’ sister’s friend’s farm house. If you can’t convincingly nod to “What does this girl think about herself, she is wearing such a chota skirt, desperate hai saali” while looking her own hip length dress; you are in trouble.

So get that rented Esteem, say we will go to Comesum to eat, park in the dark parking and start off with “tu na yaar is red dress mae bahut beautiful lagti hai” and proceed with the best thing you can do in a sub 200 BHP, non-jack-rabbiting, fuel injected car. 

Also Brush up your knowledge of best Chola Kulcha in Delhi, how much to bribe where, and to say convincingly “Lo aap baat karo uncle, ye koi Balwant Singh hai jisne rokka hai”, being groped in every mall entrance she wants to check out, midnight booze run to Gurgaon and the ability to stomach Bhenchod in every sentence; from her I mean.

Pros –

You mom would definitely approve.

Bigger is better. Fuck what you say about it. This is the truth.

Knowing about Harbhajan Mann and Harbajan Singh is enough to have a conversation

Kiss on the back of the neck is returned with moans and …. Let’s just say parts of anatomy being lubricated

Cons –

Might need a heart transplant soon, considering the stuff she cooks

You get “Jaanu you love me na?” a lot.

You will have to keep away your friends, colleagues and your distant cousins from ever coming for tea to you house

Be ready to sell your soul for a Mark Jacobs and Jimmy Choos.

Bangalore –

Bangalore on the other hand requires a big liver if not anything else. Be prepared to not to throw up as she guzzles down beer with one hand and makes animated conversations with the other hand. If you can’t make sense of “That fuckkkker, chuut he is… He said ‘Hi Baby’ to me it seems and I’m laughing my ass off, I’m like ‘whateverrrrr’, go get a life dude” you are doomed. Be prepared to go to a bakery where she discusses her third tattoo, Raghu Dixit Project and taps the guy standing next to her for a light.

What you see is what you get. Brush up your knowledge of Megadeath, Gaarudi Gombe and global warming while she suddenly kisses you in a dark pub after 5 beers. Be prepared for midnight Ganja runs to Shivaji Nagar, able to stomach that her best friend is a guy and dates that could mean book readings in Crossword followed by dosa in Malleshwaram

Pros –

She might ask you out first.

She can drink and drive you back

Forgetting her dog’s birthday is not a deal breaker.

Dates cost much lesser.

Cons –

Might need a liver transplant soon

“Jaanu I love you” is returned with Peals of laughter.

Mom might faint seeing a navel pierced, stinking of cigarette, dark, curly haired girl.

Kiss on the back of the neck is returned with “what the fuck man”

Bombay –

There are actually two kinds of girls you meet in Bombay. But there is a clear demarcation. One set is Marathi speaking, local jeans wearing and T bought from fashion-street or they call them there – Ghati. She will be flaunting some artificial jewelry which will be a second degree fake of your Gucci/ Versace / Vero Moda stuff and push you with Pudhil Chalo on a train station and eye ball you back when you protest.  But I am sure those reading this blog won’t be interested to know about them

Now the second, and our TG (Target Group for the non MBAs); the South Bombay chick. She will be dressed up in latest of fashion attire with their wardrobes changing every month (You will notice this only if you are able to bear their nakhras for a month). They want to party hard and you have to probably shell out money at all night clubs they know or their friend’s know or their friend’s friends have visited. Hair style and accessories will always be addressed with the designer or the celebrity who was just spotted wearing them. They would speak English if you converse with them for less than an hour and as you cross the barrier of hour the language changes from English to Hinglish with slangs like “Yeah I told you re that road pe we need to ghumao fai our car “. And on every second weekend be prepared to drive your car to Lonavla as “Bombay is so polluted sweetheart, I want some fresh air “

Pros –

The girl’s mom dad would be super chilled out; she won’t need to give lame reasons like night study at friend’s place.

She would never say “Janu, you are sloshed. Ab rehne do “

You don’t need to be John McClane to take a walk with her after 10 o clock.

You would get to know where Hrithik Roshan lives, where Katrina likes to eat and where Sanjay Dutt gets his Paan from.

Cons –

You would get to know where Hrithik Roshan lives, where Katrina likes to eat and where Sanjay Dutt gets his Paan from.

A date requires an entire day.

You might need eyeball replacement after you gouged then out while smiling and appreciating all the dresses/accessories that she tried in the shop.

And their favorite quote - “There this place called A where you get yummy stuff B. I wanna go there today”. So what you waiting for? Get prepared to travel for 2 hours for a 70 bucks pancake.

Calcutta – 

Calcutta requires infinite patience and sex drive if not anything else. There is something in Hooghly’s water, I can swear by it. It makes the boys horny and girls hornier. Forget its cricketers and ‘Roshogullas; the girls are Calcutta’s best exports. Be ready to fall for big eyes, enchanting mannerisms and the oh-so-sexy-making-your-heart-skip-a-beat “Oh Maa”. But remember she would as strong as she is sensual, and smart on top of that. If you don’t read at least two newspapers a day, don’t know who our external affairs minister is, can’t patiently wait for 2 hours to travel 2 kms in a car to Burra Bazar or are diabetic; you are in deep shit.

Go Pandal Hopping whole night during the Puja with her and Club hopping during the other 356 nights. Satisfy Kookie Jar cravings during the evenings, Shibu jee’s Kulfi cravings at midnight and …. Let’s just say other cravings post-midnight, and curse the Marwaris somewhere along this to be a part of the gang. So load up the extra deodorant; get that high mileage easily maneuverable small car and say to her “Hum soch raha tha tum aur hum aaj Sher-E-Punjab dhaba chalte hai, humko Egg tadka khaane ka bahut mann kar raha hai” And then have a ‘romantic’ drive till Jessore road while she curses everyone on the road and then wait one hour after a two hour drive and eat overpriced Punjabi food that isn’t authentic Punjabi either.

But that is the least of your worries. Worry about the day when you will have to go meet her dad, when she makes your drive through streets which you can swear are directly out of the labyrinth, shouts for Poltu to park your car and takes you into a 150 year old, crumbling building. As you are cautiously go up the stairs and enter into a colonial house one thin old guy looks up from his book and starts quizzing you on your mathematical, political and literary knowledge while addressing you as “Young Man’ every time.

Pros –

She might kiss you on the back of the neck.

 Leave it to her to fight with the cabbie who scratched your car.

“I was struck in a traffic jam” is always believable even if you stay 100 meters away.

Mom Dad would approve of the Sitar Playing, Shakespeare quoting girl

Cons –

Her dad might not approve of you though.

Your on-one-knee-ring-in-hand proposal might be interrupted if she sees a puchka-wala

Not knowing the entire Tagore’s poetry might be the cause of divorce.

You will have to pretend to like fish even if you are from Rajasthan.

Rajasthan –

What? You don’t meet girls in Rajasthan! That is if you don’t call fixing up a time to chat when the girl’s mom is away as a date. Most you do is meet for a movie, sit with one seat between you while she prays very hard that her dad’s accountant’s dog’s vet didn’t see her with you. And you try to imagine how she would look when you remove her big glasses, dupatta that she wraps around her face and her long gloves that go till her elbows. That’s it. You don’t think further, you can’t. Beyond that is like imagining Santa Claus with a six pack saying “How you doing?”

 P.S. - Bombay part done by Somya Shringi, the original Heart Breaker, Soul Shaker and my Soul Twin (his words)