Ask any Indian kid what his worst nightmare is. The thing that makes him want to pull out his hair with agony. Gnash his teeth with frustration. A thing so evil that its akin to being boiled in the Burning Pot Of Hell.

Okay, you may get the general varied response.

Its like a Bells curve.
Stuck in one extreme of the varied Indian spectrum are the Smart Iyer Boys and the TamBrahms. On the other end are the Social Media Twerkers. And in the middle, Me and a few other million Indians. So much for standing out, huh?


Wait till you hear our nightmares


You might expect a Smart Iyer boy’s nightmare to be like this.

This might be a little clichΓ©d but bear with me.
Aiyo! What if I get 98% in an exam?! The very idea!



Well, TamBrahms? What do I say about them? I’m pretty sure this might be what most TamBrahms dreams look like (no offense to anybody)


And don’t forget the Potatoes.
Very very important.
Whoever thought of a Curd Rice without Maanga Oorgai and Potatoes? Sheesh.


And then come the Netizens. These people (I would love to use the word ‘Literally’ here, but since I don’t want to face the wrath of a few Grammar Nazis…) figuratively spend their life on the SocialMediaverse.

Brought a dress?
Post a status on Facebook.

Baked a cake?
Tweet about it.

Took a walk in the park?
Instagram it.

They do every single thing in their lives with the goal of sharing it to the SocialMediaverse.
And if they don’t get appreciation, in the form of ‘likes’ they bawl it out.
This is their nightmare. Not being socially accepted on this pseudo ‘Social Media’ platform.


And then comes Me and the million Indians.
Do you know what terrorises me?
The thing I absolutely loathe?

Here. x)


*runs away and tries ties the rope to the fan*


You may think I’m overreacting (You’ve never seen a serial have you? πŸ™‚ GO TO YOUR GRANDMAS PLACE NOW)
You may emphatise with me (Join the club bro T.T)

But what can we hapless citizens do about it?

Want to watch a Cricket Match?
No πŸ™‚ Your Grandma’s watching a serial πŸ™‚

Want to study?
No πŸ™‚ A woman is bawling the Pacific Ocean in the TV πŸ™‚

Accompanying your grandma to the market?
Good boy πŸ™‚ Now listen to your grandma harp about some random serial to the Maami on the street for half-an-hour πŸ™‚

Absolute Torture on Earth.
And the thing about this is that It. doesn’t. End! Some serials go for about 1000 episodes and more than 5 years.
5 years of cricket matches gone down the drain x) 5 years of Torture πŸ™‚

And once that 5 years end, do you get relief? No! Kolangal ends? Metti Oli comes. That ends? Saravanan Meenatchi comes. They’re not crying enough? You have Uttaran.
And some of these serials feature 2, maybe 3 generations in a family! And they ALL cry.

I mean isn’t this taking Genetics and Heredity too seriously? Hell, Tear ducts are not even an Inheritable characteristic.


All I can say is that I can relate to the millions of Indians out there, suffering.
To their angst. Their pain. The immense agony.


Vote for Jayalalitha guys.
At least you can hope to get a free TV.


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