How hard can it be to speak clean?
Abuse is the new endearment. “Oh dear ***, I so *** missed you.” “Ditto, my dear ***.” Doesn’t it get taxing? I mean, perennially looking for new things to fill those asterisks up?
I met a host of school kids last evening. Sleeves rolled up, socks rolled down, the works. Ah, the going-back-home feeling, I smiled. One of the boys and he was no older than 12 then began: “Wasn’t it fun how I threw the football at that ***’s face?” “Oh we loved his *** when that happened!” They kicked a stone to exemplify how *** the experience had been. I gawked and then realized how I didn’t even know the meanings for some of the things they just said.
It is no wonder where gaalis grow. The beeping idiot-box is hardly a breeding ground. But no one beeps out flimsy books which talk about ‘having fun’ in school; they don’t even beep the Internet out. Truckwallas, bus conductors and even the seemingly suave gent who just stepped out of his car – they all have a rich vocabulary when it comes to filth. I admit I have come across the sober few who, if not more, at least do justice to the oh-you’re-a-woman observation. But there are several who carry on with the gaali-business nevertheless. Nothing like a string of cuss words to trail your vehicle. They keep off potential offenders, you see. New world versions of the nimboo and mirchi.
I find that it is of elementary importance to have a rich quota of gaalis tucked under your belt if you plan to enjoy the city’s nightlife. No matter how good you look in your laciest (or brawniest, as the case may be) outfit, you will only be a misfit if you cannot fire gaalis at everyone: the waiters, the bouncers, the friends, the friends ‘with benefits’. Oh, no one says ‘The F Word’ anymore. Just like no one says “Oh, lets!” or “Yes, please.” anymore. Where do you come from, anyway? The world is now open. Be it gaalis or clothing. Of course, there’s nothing like a sharp, unadulterated Hindi gaali but if you are a novice, a dirty English one might work as well.