blogs nanda kumar jai

My dear friend,

I realise I’m about to violate the first rule of minorities by criticizing a fellow member, but if the Maulana of Azamgarh can criticise Ajmal Kasab and Lindsay Lohan can bitch about Samantha Ronson, I guess I can too. I wanted to do this over the phone, but since you have the attention span of an armless man suffering from syphilis, I have resorted to a letter instead. I hope you can manage the time to read it in between your marathon “Quoting at the drop of a Turban” sessions disguised as GRE preparation.

Let me start by saying - ever since you have come on the scene, our people have had to suffer more pain, persecution and injustice than the Jews at the hands of the Germans. The wounds of 1984 had only recently started to heal before your commentator act ripped them harder than a hungry Taliban fighter seeing a goat after 3 years. The emotional damage you have caused has been so immense that there is perhaps no difference between you and Jagdish Tytler anymore. In my mind atleast, whenever I see you, there is always a riot.

And to think, you had so much promise at a time when our community had no real role models. Music was confined to Jat boy's woofering their time away to  Punjabi MC’s bass lines. Manmohan Singh was as visible in the public spotlight as Shivraj Patil during a terrorist attack. The movie Border had been a thing of the past and people had had enough of Sunny Deol trying to reinvigorate deaf's people's eardrums. Montek Singh Ahluwalia was a tongue twister, Khushwant Singh was continuing to jack off fantasising about Shobha De and Akshay Kumar was still harping about being a Khiladi instead of rapping with Snoop Dogg. Heck, even Harbhajan Singh looked like he would fall on the pitch because of the weight of his topknot instead of being the slaphappy MILF hunter that he is now. 

You would have been perfect! People still respected you for your ability to treat Shane Warne like Anand Jon did his models. They appreciated your improving attempts at fielding in the latter half of your career like they do Dev Anand's present day movies. Instead you came in and started vomiting the Websters dictionary as if you were 8 months pregnant and starting cutting people mid-sentence like the Chief ofSanjay Gandhi’s vasectomy campaign. And telling Geoff Boycott to fuck off on television? Didn’t you know what happens to people when they piss off people with twisted faces? Ask Lalit Modi. Sherry my ass, your nickname should be Crack diluted Absynth. 


But then again, maybe you are fearless. After all, you did (accidentally) kill a man. Still, you were still courageous enough to make sweeping statements about yourself however like “I have never thought about the future and have never bothered about the past.” I mean that's like George W. (accidentally) dropping a nuclear warhead on Mexico and saying "Ah well, atleast the burritos will cook faster".

As if that wasn't enough, you decided to be a judge on The Great Indian Laughter Challenge. Phew. You're going to have to give me a moment on this one. Let me describe what i felt while watching you during that show. So imagine me in my room right - having a drink,  chilling and shit. Then, i turn the TV on and you are in the middle of one of your sermons.


(Keep calm. Stay clam. Count to 10. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU PERSONIFICATION OF LIZARD SHIT STUCK ON MY TUBELIGHT DRESSED IN A SUIT  PIECE OF EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING ARGGGHHHHHH !!!!! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FRAKING HELL UP!!! LALALALALALA!!! IM NOT LISTENING TO YOU LALALALALALA!!! A paragraph does not comprise solely on quotes!!!! Quoting shit does not make you intelligent, it only makes you a rattebaaz!!!! Why can't you let other people talk? Did your mother never give you a nipple to suck on as a child?!!!! I SWEAR TO GOD if you do not shut up i will PERSONALLY come to your set and shove Shekhar Suman's dick in your mouth like i plug my jacuzzi. SHUT UPPPP!!!!!!!)


However, i know that reacting that way would probably not help the situation. So i'll respond to you by quoting another famous person you might have heard of. Fran Lebowitz once said "The opposite of talking isn't listening. The opposite of talking is waiting." I don't know what to wait for though - you to stop talking or for me to kill myself. (That said, I understand the next couple of seasons with Mandira Bedi, I would kill to grab a closer peek at those noodle strapped caressed knockers)

And then there's the politics. Oh dear lord the politics. I’m willing to bet Raghu Ram’s Roadies career that you joined the BJP because the saffron matched your grotesquely chic suits, ties and turbans. Who the fuck designed your wardrobe anyway? For once i'd like to see you wear something that has not been created by Stevie Wonder and Manish Arora's love child running amok in a nondescript Bombay textile mill. Your entire wardrobe is so loud that Jadoo from Koi Mil Gaya can still hear and see you on his planet. I have also sent an application to the Ministry of Civil Aviation to make you stand on the runway at DelhiAirport during the entire winter season as your wardrobe will be the only thing visible enough to help pilots land their aircraft. CAT III landing system can go take a bloody piss. 

Or who knows, maybe Capt. Amarinder Singh’s much more stunning and rambunctious moustache put you off joining the Congress. We all know how proud you are of yours. Either way, I hope you can spend a lot more time on governance issues connected to the formerly gorgeous city of Amritsar. Were it not for the Golden Temple, no one in his or her right minds would ever visit the city – now the only one in the world that can be seen through space. (Though I hear all you can see is Sukhbir Badal’s billboard and a Fuck You to Mayawati and Lucknow)

In the end, I would like to say that it is perhaps fitting that you were re-elected from Amritsar – the same city where the Jallianwalla Bagh massacre took place. I know thousands of people who would willingly choose to be in that crowd instead of having to listen to you. Or maybe someday you will get your “cake with a cherry on top” © and a man will punch you to (accidental) death too. If that day comes, we will base the lead character of the Indianised version of “Dead Poet’s Society” on you.

Your fellow Singh.

Gursimran Khamba