Monday, October 14, 2013


WARNING: Offensive and explicit content ahead. When I say offensive I don't mean this will unintentionally hurt your feelings. This will unintentionally hurt you as much as a guided missile from the U.S. would hurt a Syrian civilian settlement. Or a racial insult from an Australian would hurt an Indian. (Or vice versa if said humans are cricketers with near simian intelligence) Or how the previous statement would insult simians all around the globe. This post will intentionally knee you in your balls, give you a wedgie while you keel over and then post the video of the whole incident on YouTube. So, read at your own risk and don't bother complaining. (Now that warning's got you trapped nice and clean didn't it?)

Any kiddie in school can love like a fool. But hating, my boy, is an art. - Ogden Nash.

On the subject of cursing very little has been said. While some may argue that a lot has been said, looking at how much cursing gets done these days, the fact is, little has been said on the subject itself. Think of it. How many articles do you read on a daily basis that teach you new curse words or tell you the appropriate curse words for a situation? If you answered more than one, you probably have a mental problem, you bastard!

Which brings me to the subject of this essay. My favourite curse word. How I wish schools included topics like these instead of those boring my favourite festival (everybody's was Diwali) or my favourite season. (everybody's was monsoon) My favourite curse word, my favourite murder modus operandi, my favourite torture technique... what delightful flights of fancies could have emerged from the budding imagination of innocent youth with topics like these! But I digress.

My favourite curse word, for the moment and for a while now has been bastard. Observe how it begins with an angry plosive consonant that explodes from your throat and then follows that up with a slithering 's', before again throwing another explosion in your face! This word was designed to hurt.

I always had problems with many other curse words. Motherfucker (or any other fucker, sheep included) sounds too crude and you will, I am sure agree with me when I say that any word with a fuck attached to it is just met with nonchalance nowadays. Honestly, who gives a fuck? Arsehole sounds like something a pompous British beggar would call you if refuse him a penny. Humiliating yes, but not venomous. Cocksucker, faggot, pussy, etc., do not make the cut either. They all sound so pass'e.

But bastard, now that's a curse to use on someone. Because you see, the primary purpose of a curse is not to vent your anger, but to elicit a reaction. If you just wanted to vent your anger, you could bloody well just punch the wall, now right? But you don't want that. You want to get down and dirty. You want it primeval, medieval, primordial or something like that. Really ancient, that is the point. Clubs, stones, animal skins, grunts, blood and gore.

And to do that the only thing that would work is bastard. Especially in India. Why? Let me explain. Bastard, as any decent 3rd grader these days knows (if yours does not, you should possibly follow up on him/her. How else are they going to find a healthy way to vent out all their frustrations from FIITJEE, swimming, singing, dancing and abacus classes? Murder you in your sleep?) means a child born out of wedlock. That sounds totally romantic to me. You are a boy/girl born out of wedlock and eighteen years later you find your father is the king of the neighbouring country. You embark on a journey to unite with him and claim the throne. Halfway through, you trip over a stone, awaken from your acid trip and die slitting your wrists in depression.

But no, that is not the notion entertained here in this country. In this country, the word connotes a stain on your mother's character. It paints her as a woman of questionable morals, a lady of the night, a woman of pleasure, a wanton wench. (which still appeals to me as a romantic idea, if you can add the right mix of Burton, Wilde and Poe.) And that is supreme offence in India, where the air is so thick with mother sentiment that you can slice it with a knife, tetrapack it and sell it as dehydrated mother's milk.

So you call someone a bastard, that is the Royal British equivalent of removing your glove and slapping him/her in the face challenging them to a duel, only in this case, you first scratched your crotch with the glove on before slapping. The reactions that might ensue can range anywhere from fist fights to gory combat with melee weapons.

Yes, of course, there is always the chance that you might get hurt, amputated or murdered. Perhaps you might get murdered in your after-birth as well. But those are trivial objections to a man with a dauntless heart and a brainless skull. Come what may, call someone a bastard when you are angry and like the Bride, you too shall roar, rampage and get bloody satisfaction.

For women, I prefer the other B. Bitch. I have always been a gentleman (hiding a brute underneath of course. Deep down, we are all cavemen anyway, cause caves are you know, deep.) and I intend to extend courtesy to the gentler sex. So bitch it is, a brief explosive draw of the sword followed by a swift stroke to decapitate the target. Quick, merciful and yet painful enough. And rest assured, this word too will elicit a desirable response. No woman wants to be compared to an animal species with a few exceptions made in the case of cervids and felines. In this case, while the reaction might not be violently satisfying as the other B word, you can expect slaps, flying slippers and perhaps a mixture of both. If you are really lucky, you can expect a full-fledged physical assault with possible injuries to both parties, with you shouldering the bulk of the injuries (thanks to her irate boyfriend or husband joining the fight and ending it prematurely and unfairly, when all he needed to do was keep her on the leash!), but hey, that is what gentlemen do.

So there you go, those are my B and B's. My favourite curse words. My pick of the lot from the verbal gutter that flows down our guttural cords.

So, what is your favourite curse word bastards and bitches?

P.S. Many reasons have been provided to explain why this curse word is my favourite. But the true reason is, 3:20 to 3:32 of this movie clip.