Indian Chemistry
I'm becoming disenchanted with India. Yes, it's still the world's largest democracy. Yes, its food is the best in the world. No, there isn't anything better than hanging out with Tarun, the conscience of a nation.
But then I read something like this piece of crap article on "assisted" (as opposed to arranged) marriage in the NRI community. They describe their perfect little marriages as "love-cum-arranged." The article gushes, "Only over dinner with Dr. Shah - her ninth suitor - did she finally begin a courtship that was fueled as much by chemical attraction as by familial interest." Chemical attraction!
By God there better be no chemical attraction in my marriage. Don't these NRI's understand that you can't have your cake and eat it too? Beaming about their perfect little marital unions with their perfect little sex lives, letting reporters document their giddiness in tired cliches, they're oblivious to the searing pain of existence. Here's the truth: you shuffle awkwardly through this living hell and if you're lucky enough to find sexual pleasure, it's with someone who despises you. If, on the other hand, you choose a good life partner, the sex is dutiful and boring. There are no other options. Well, you can have sex with lots of different people. But then you get an STD and don't disclose it and feel guilty when your ex girlfriend can't have babies because of you.
One girl in the article says, "My parents won't understand, they'll say, 'But he's from a good family, he's a doctor, he's a doctor, he's a doctor.' And I'll say, 'But he's short.' " But he's short! Who the hell do you think you are? Well, what about this one? Are his eyebrows at the right angle? Are you sure his shoulder blades don't jut too much? Wouldn't you rather have a pony? We could paint it all the colors of the rainbow and eat cupcakes while our driver works over the short doctor with a fucking wrench. Aren't you excited that you have chemical attraction with a racially acceptable mate? Isn't life perfect?
Fuck everyone with a cute ethnicity. Fuck anyone with talent or a work ethic. Fuck anyone whose genetic heritage is anything other than gloomy alcoholism and sordid graceless sex measured out in rushed sweaty gropings and thrustings that leave your partner unsatisfied. Life is meant to be lonely, painful, and ugly. We take dignity from our pain because there is nowhere else to find it. I'm done choking on the triumphalist shit the New York Times cranks out to keep its life-starved readers up to date on the customs of communities to which they can never belong.
But then I read something like this piece of crap article on "assisted" (as opposed to arranged) marriage in the NRI community. They describe their perfect little marriages as "love-cum-arranged." The article gushes, "Only over dinner with Dr. Shah - her ninth suitor - did she finally begin a courtship that was fueled as much by chemical attraction as by familial interest." Chemical attraction!
By God there better be no chemical attraction in my marriage. Don't these NRI's understand that you can't have your cake and eat it too? Beaming about their perfect little marital unions with their perfect little sex lives, letting reporters document their giddiness in tired cliches, they're oblivious to the searing pain of existence. Here's the truth: you shuffle awkwardly through this living hell and if you're lucky enough to find sexual pleasure, it's with someone who despises you. If, on the other hand, you choose a good life partner, the sex is dutiful and boring. There are no other options. Well, you can have sex with lots of different people. But then you get an STD and don't disclose it and feel guilty when your ex girlfriend can't have babies because of you.
One girl in the article says, "My parents won't understand, they'll say, 'But he's from a good family, he's a doctor, he's a doctor, he's a doctor.' And I'll say, 'But he's short.' " But he's short! Who the hell do you think you are? Well, what about this one? Are his eyebrows at the right angle? Are you sure his shoulder blades don't jut too much? Wouldn't you rather have a pony? We could paint it all the colors of the rainbow and eat cupcakes while our driver works over the short doctor with a fucking wrench. Aren't you excited that you have chemical attraction with a racially acceptable mate? Isn't life perfect?
Fuck everyone with a cute ethnicity. Fuck anyone with talent or a work ethic. Fuck anyone whose genetic heritage is anything other than gloomy alcoholism and sordid graceless sex measured out in rushed sweaty gropings and thrustings that leave your partner unsatisfied. Life is meant to be lonely, painful, and ugly. We take dignity from our pain because there is nowhere else to find it. I'm done choking on the triumphalist shit the New York Times cranks out to keep its life-starved readers up to date on the customs of communities to which they can never belong.
posted by James | 5:31 AM
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