April 7, 2011 | Awake & Dreaming

Kerala politicians are a breed apart from the rest of us in the state. Infact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that they are a different species all together. Here are a few things that I have noted about them creatures:

If you are into politics in Kerala and and active member of any party, you must wear all white. White half sleeved shirts or jubas and white dhotis or mundu. It just has to be all white — in order to counteract the fucking black, black hole that you call a heart!
Education, being well read, being able to read, aware of the world events, style, class – these are just suggestions!
To be a minister you must be above the age of 60. To be a leader of a party, atleast 70. And Chief Minister….well 80 is a minimum!
For election promotion posters & photos, you must look like a total dork! The photographer will tell you to smile and part your mouth and show some teeth. Make sure that your overall look is as insincere as possible. And if you are lucky, you will get to wear a little lipstick along with your buck teeth & mustache. Classic!!
If you are a jerk and an asshole, it helps! If you have a criminal record, bonus!!!
When you are the opposition party, you must take every opportunity to belittle the current governing party’s short comings and belittle their efforts. Forget the fact that when you were in power, you did even worse and gave up without trying a second time for these same concerns.
When in power ensure that you milk every tragedy to your benefit. Stand next to victims for photo opportunities and comfort them during a tv interviews. Ignore them the moment the camera is shut!
Please ensue that you & your party declare a few strikes & harthals every few weeks. The public is used to it. So block the roads, bar people from going to work, opening shops or enjoying a day out on the town. They should not get these rights. Rather you should unfurl your flags and bring the state to a stand still. The issue at hand is not relevant but the duration of the harthal is.
Make every effort to milk money from government funds, taxes, election contributions & bribes. After all, you do need the latest cars, a few mansions and also keep the talkative prostitutes who bore you 12 illegitimate children happy!

A letter aka a snail mail. Man hasn’t it been ages since anyone sent me one. I think the last letter I ever sent out was around 1998 and it was probably around that same time that I received my last snail mail too. I remember when I used to think that getting a letter was a huge deal. Getting greetings cards too! I used to have a few pen friends who I met via rock magazines and even when I first started using the internet, I made a few chat friends who exchanged snail mail with me too.

I loved the art of writing letters (yes it is an art form my friends) and getting a few goodies in the envelope along with the letter was the icing on the cake. I’m talking about photos, little cards, stickers or some stuff like that. Little cutouts from a magazine or newspaper that mean something or is relevant to a point in the letter – those were bonuses. And I loved doing that. Getting a handwritten letter from a new friend who lives in another country was special.

I had a few pen friends who wrote to me on a frequent level. Mostly girls (ofcourse) but the odd guy here or there. A girl in Assam, a few in the Philippines, one from Malaysia, another from New Zealand, Canada and from FInland. I’ve received a few other letters from others but these were the most frequent ones I had, while others were probably just one letter or two and then there were no more correspondences. I still have some of the letters from these ladies, tucked away in an old diary in a cupboard drawer hidden away. I’d probably need to dust it away just to look at it and remember the ‘caveman’ days before I started to rely on emails and chat on a regular level.