Category — Why The Hellwa?

No Special Characters Allowed

Russian authorities have refused to register a child who was named BOCh RVF 26062002.

Moscow authorities refused to issue a birth certificate to a six-year-old boy, whose parents named him BOCh RVF 26062002, an official said  on Wednesday.

“This case has been reviewed by several judicial agencies; but the parents have been denied the right to register the child with that name,” Tatyana Ushakova said. “This was done to protect the boy’s interests. His parents need to think how the boy can live with a name like that and not think about their own ambitions.”

Now, I could argue that BOCh RVF 26062002 is a lot more easier than something like Onisimova Fyodorovich Sviatoslavov, but we’ll debate that later.

It’s beyond me on why people, governments and societies have rules on what or how a name should be. If I wanted a name like, I see no reason why I shouldn’t be allowed such a name. It would be my bloody choice, right? But it doesn’t work that way.

My sister, who is a regular on this blog, doesn’t have a first name, last name or the middle name (something that retarded Maharashtrian babus insist that you must have). She’s just called “Anshu” with no prefixes or suffixes. And it was just a few weeks ago when I tried to register a domain under her name. As she didn’t have a first or last name, I couldn’t figure out what should be filled in the online forms. So I tried “Dr.” as the first name, and “Anshu” as the last name. And the system screamed – no special characters allowed. More on her adventures with her name here.

I still can’t figure out how Tamilians and other people who have initials – like N.Padma fill out internet forms.

BTW, if I called myself, would Yahoo Inc. sue me for trademark infringement?

February 20, 2009   2 Comments

Three Pimples? You Can’t Fly.

The stories about Air India keep getting weirder. Forget the fact that air-hostesses are sacked for being overweight. The Hawaai-sundaris (as AI would prefer to call them) can be grounded if they have three or more pimples – reports the TOI.

“If it’s more than three, you’re grounded. They’ll wait for the pimples to disappear. If they don’t, you’re likely to be grounded for three months. If you don’t care for your skin, forget about being a flight attendant,” an airline official told TOI.

I assume Air India has officials at each airport who are called Senior Weight Officers (SWO)  or Chief Pimple Officers (CPO).  Probably, just before a flight attendant is scheduled to fly, she is supposed to report to the Chief Pimple Officer . And I assume a conversation like this is routine.

CPO: Show me the left side – ah one… two. And the right cheek… ah one more! Yeh to kal nahin tha… Three pimples, I have to ground you.

Flight Attendant: Teen kahaan hai? There are only two.

CPO: And what about the one on the right cheek?

Flight Attendant: That’s hardly a pimple. It hasn’t developed yet.  2.5 pimples.

CPO: It’s more like 2.75 pimples.

Flight Attendant: But it’s still less than three. The rules say three pimples.

CPO: Okay, you win today. I’ll ground you tomorrow.

January 10, 2009   2 Comments

How to change the damned world…

The World Question Center has a simple question that has sent the world’s biggest thinkers into an essay writing spree.


What game-changing scientific ideas and developments do you expect to live to see?

It obviously is a question that would tempt me to write an essay. But there are plenty of global thinkers who have already done so. If you have the patience – unlike me – to go and read through each of these opinions, you’ll find ideas ranging from the utterly simplistic to the bizzaringly bizarre. The best of the world’s brains have different ideas on the one thing that will change everything – artificial intelligence, laboratory earth colonies, molecular manufacturing, ET, mastering mortality, radiotelepathy and the muting  of Himesh Reshammiya.

Okay, I made the last one up.

But if you ask Manishwa the Great – there is one thing that could change everything – make the world an easier place to live in.

A cure for PMS.

Go on, throw the bricks. 

January 2, 2009   2 Comments

The Wife’s Surname

I might be the from the rare breed of husbands who gets addressed by the wife’s surname. My wife’s last name happens to be Kumar – and I get addressed as Mr.Kumar more than I am addressed by my real surname.

No, it doesn’t have to do anything with the fact that she earns more than me, she goes out to work and I am a house-husband (who does unproductive things like blogging) or I am the one who is assigned to do the dishes. But I am still the one who wears the trousers (Ok, boxer shorts), while she wears the ridiculously priced sarees and salwar suits.

Yet, I am supposed to be Mr. Kumar. And it has to do more with circumstances rather than my own choice. Allow me to explain.

When we got married, she already had a bunch of educational qualifications, professional certifications, bank accounts and tax accounts – all with her maiden name “Kumar”. It was a pain to try and change all that – so we continued with unchanged names for all official purposes. Now, the lady has the habit of issuing cheques – even for paltry sums. So everyone – from the doodhwala, cablewala to the kiraana ki dukaan were issued cheques. And all had the signatory as a certain “Mrs.Kumar”. And suddenly everyone in the neighbourhood thought that this my name was Kumar.

And whenever I walked out – all greeted me politely. “Kya haal hai Kumaar Saab?” I usually clenched my fists, returned my best fake smile – all the while muttering – saale, Kumar mere sasure ka naam hai. Things kept getting worse. All her colleagues thought that I was Mr.Kumar. All calls from them addressed me as Mr. Kumar – and wedding invitations were always addressed to Mrs. And Mr.Kumar. Soon, I got used to it.

That brings me to the Why-The-Hellwa question: why can’t the husband take the wife’s surname? Why does it always have to be the other way round? Or simpler still, why do they have to change names in the first place? There are some Maharashtrians and Bongs who go on to force-change the wife’s first-name after a wedding as well – but you can’t expect much from these idiots.

Let’s assume I have an aunt called Raffu Chakkar. Who goes on to marry someone called Champu Darzi at the ripe young age of 52. Now, why should my bechaari aunt be called Raffu Darzi? Why can’t my uncle now be called Champu Chakkar? Doesn’t the latter sound so attractive, amazing and alliterative?

The patriarchal society is dead. The fact that Eve was created from Adam’s ribs sounds good only on a Sunday afternoon. Still there are people (and courts) who create such a fuss when somebody decides to take his wife’s surname.

That brings me to the Bollywood’s so called first-family.  The first-family of nautanki to be precise. Why should the former Miss World be called Aishwarya Bachchan after her wedding?

Let’s try and compare things between Aishwarya and Abhishek. She earns more than him, has a lot more fans, has more Google searches, has more hit films, is a lot more smarter (he fell for her didn’t he?), is more sexier than him, and commands a better price. So why shouldn’t the Dostana stud be called Abhishek Rai?

Give me one reason why Aishwarya Rai’s trophy-husband shouldn’t be called Abhishek Rai.

Fortunately, there are people who don’t mind taking up their wife’s surname. Click here, here or here for more stories.

December 19, 2008   10 Comments