I was an average school boy. Not really the quintessential kind who thought school was all about studying; as well as the sportsman variety. Just someone who went to school, came back, listened to parents and led a routine life. But come high school, say Class 6-7, was when the word ‘average’ was not defined in a sCOOLgoers dictionary. This revolution normally hits other cities like Delhi, Bangalore etc only in college; or maybe in cities like Chennai where it doesn’t occur at all. But the fortunate soul that I was, the ‘cool’ maturity does strike the Mumbai glitz kids real early.
It is indeed strange because one can’t really define the word ‘cool’. The closest I can get to its explanation is just that it’s a culture or a way of life; one would believe to live in a few years time. Simply put, it was all about tasting ‘adulthood’ years in advance, or so it seemed. The transformation may be caused because of biology or an emulation of western society or both! It’s the time when guys finally start giving a shit about girls and proving a point amongst their own sex. It’s a time when people know you and define you by your persona, demeanor, and abilities to blow cash and in frequent cases, your public accoutrement or external façade. The more criteria one satisfies, the cooler you are. Having learnt about expletives, alcohol, narcotics and sex years ago now is when the freedom comes to use it shamelessly and prove your coolness. Not having done much in life myself, and my hormones running wild almost every night upstairs (and downstairs!); I finally decided to take the ‘cool’ route. It’s all about NOT being you, but what the heck! As long as it makes you popular and gets you the chicks, that’s all you’re expecting in life at that point in time anyway.
First, let me begin with the physical appearance. Having ordinary short hair is not the way to go now. Even though it made me look smarter, coolness defines hair to be like the actors and popular celebrities. Now considering I’m no actor or barber myself, I must seek professional help. Blowing three grand on a haircut at Hakim’s doesn’t seem a bad idea now that I’m on the path to ‘coolness’. What’s more? If I shed double of that, I can even get my hair braided and streaked something that will make me even more uglier, but DEFINITELY cooler. You see, having disheveled, long hair like Steve Tyler does make for some coolness that’s for sure. Now with my hairdo in place, jewelry is next on the agenda. Piercing can be really painful; but because Shifty does it, I must do it too. A bali on the left ear is fine. The tongue and lips can wait for a while. A perfect accessory for dogs, is something that must feature round my neck; a thick chain. Man, this bling can make me famous really quickly. My wardrobe filled with Fido Dido and Noddy shirts must make way for oversized Adidas and Fubu. Even the ultra-cool don’t really give a shit about shoes but I can’t take chances, so I buy a cool pair of branded footwear to complete the combo. I must admit branded stuff all over me does make me give an uncanny semblance of a clown, but I must look expensive to get the gold-diggers attention.
Being an inherent part of my life, my music tastes must change heavily. I loved the Backstreets, Britney and Himesh. But now, coolness defines them to be music for the homosexual. I still have no idea how one classifies music according to sexual orientations, or classify any music according to superiority when its hearing is so subjective. But then being immature in most cases is what coolness is all about. Even though an album of Backstreet Boys sells more than what Maiden have ever sold over the past three decades combined; adding to the fact that the Backstreet Boys are far more popular; if not even make better music, at least to my ears; coolness demands a compromise. From now on 2Pac, BTNH, Behemoth etc is the order of the day. Now you’ll hear music at home or in the car go….
You Little young ass mutha-fuckas
Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something
You fucking with me, nigga ?
You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,
Bring it.
But we ain't singing,
We bringing drama
fuck you and your mother fucking mama.
We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.
Now the new craze is the guitar for some strange reason. Heavily clichéd, just because everyone is doing it I must do it too. Irrespective of the fact that there are other Indian musical instruments much more versatile than the guitar, it’s all about being western. My ideas about television must also change. Star World is the latest sensation to hit the cool masses. Friends I must watch though the jokes I do not comprehend! Now that I have realized that WWE is completely fake and completely wasted entertainment, I must switch over to Baywatch to titillate myself watching voluptuously and skimpily dressed women (or in cases, Hasselhoff!) running around beaches saving lives. Coolness stipulates the complete disdain towards Indian soaps, not limited to those by Ekta Kapoor; or for that matter anything Indian.
I have loved and admired Sachin Tendulkar all my life. But then, the cool junta now believes in Football and Formula One; both sports having close to zilch representation or interest in our country, even though the interest in other sports is appreciated. I find soccer a really lame sport, just kicking a ball here and there with people paying to see glorified stuntmen doing some fuck with the ball on the field. But now, considering I must be cool, I must have EPL conned by rote. The Manchester United v/s Arsenal battles can make for interesting (oh and extremely mature I must add!) fights in school. It also has dual application. Chicks usually watch football for the footballers and not really the sport, so it can make good conversation if I did know trivia about the game or a player or two.
Being really impressed with cars, coolness gives me the strong to try taking them for a ride. Even though I’m at least five years short of the legal age limit, keeping the pandu’s at bay is certainly not a big deal when you’re in Mumbai. The real experience of adulthood comes alive when a few lessons from some senior or dad gives me the liberty of doing 90 on the freeways late in the night. Totally oblivious to the fact that there are goons out there on the roads looking for prey as pedophiles or retards looking for make-shift beggar-converting hopefuls or just painful cops looking to earn big money by extortion catching juvenile delinquents; I ride carelessly with my cool dudes with the woofers at capacity creating an absolutely ruckus on the road. The quickest way to fame among your artificial cool friends I must confess. Acquiring alcohol and fags wasn’t the toughest thing to do, especially when you’re on the roads in the wee hours of the night where some baniyas on the road are looking to make some last moment earning and not giving a fuck about ethics. The last time, Sooraj had flicked two bottles of classy vodka from his dad’s cupboard which we enjoyed; but this time I had a few hundreds of rupees I took from mom for some fabricated school picnic which was going to make the purchase. Dope was too expensive plus difficult to personally purchase when you’re 12. Although, we had Chintan in between his third packet of fags in the past 2 hours; telling us fables about how his friends went high on grass in Lonavala one night. Very visibly untrue, but as long as it is true to the spirit of coolness, it’s never questioned.
Now school is the place (in addition to tuitions for the dolts!) where there is heavy socialization with girls (I was in co-ed for the uninitiated). Now in high school, and to the true spirit of coolness, one finally has his adrenaline pumping at the thought of women. Similar to the women as well, so it works in perfect synergy. But then, in school, a guy thinks with his penis more than his brains; so his options are much more restricted to the more visually appealing women. Being cool is undeniably about having chicks around you, and to have the prettier array around is an icing on the cake. Even here, the principle of women being loaded upstairs and downstairs applies! A good initiator of conversation with the ladies makes for celebrity status at school, if not one eventually ends up dating. Physical intimacy was pretty much an alien concept at that time, but guys in general would love to get their hands, legs, lips or any other thing on the precociously-developed, tender anatomy of a woman. Free porn on the internet or video libraries also has its fair share of credit for guys to think about objects to press in pairs at the mere thought of a female.
The simplest beginning to get popular is firstly, to get noticed! Undisciplined conduct in school makes an instant connect with the cooligans. It could range from not bringing books to school, back answering teachers, not doing homework to the more daring brand of bunking lectures and leaving school in the midst of class hours. The more severe it is, the cooler you get! The flak one will proceed to receive from the authorities at school is pretty harmless as long as the cool community has their brows raised at my actions. The simple policy that follows almost everywhere is that rules are MEANT to be broken! Academics in general (and in specific!) go for a complete toss with such an attitude. But as long as it makes me popular in school or with some chick in bed, I’m not complaining.
Now just because I’ve adorned myself and my actions to the loosest standards one can achieve in society, my thoughts and beliefs must not lag behind in correspondence. Coolness is also about an attitude that you must have, if not, at least a false external manifestation of it to make the complete cool packaged individual. I must in general be completely contemptuous towards those other mediocre assholes that are not cool. I must only talk to people who listen to my kind of music and consider the rest as panzees and losers if not gay. I must be extra sweet and modest with girls and flirt with them at any and every possible opportunity. Though, the reality of essentially being a haughty bastard must come to the fore for the negligees. I must always have my cool gang in my environs and indulge in making life for panzees miserable and ruling the school like there is no other. I, at every point in time must show myself to own a lot of money, even though I had none, to impress those who actually have none. Everything for me must be convenient, and I have grown extra lazy to even bother about the perceived nerdy things in life.
Now as I reflect on those jolly days in school, when I just didn’t give a fuck about anything and everything for the desire of becoming illustrious amongst my comrades, I revel today in this cherished legacy. I completely lost my individuality and was never able to define myself as anything else but ‘cool’. Being artificial and betraying my own esteem worked wonders for me in life. I didn’t really end up banging a chick eventually. My friends in those days of yore considered it a miracle I passed with 55.1% in the ICSE. I’m still hung on to cigarettes, specifically a few packets a day that I had introduced myself to, secretly in the public garden when I was 11. I had lost everything I had which, as a student, I would have been thankful for. I blew a lot of cash and a lot of parental respect in the fond hope of becoming cool someday. My purpose of being cool had really served me well.
It is indeed strange because one can’t really define the word ‘cool’. The closest I can get to its explanation is just that it’s a culture or a way of life; one would believe to live in a few years time. Simply put, it was all about tasting ‘adulthood’ years in advance, or so it seemed. The transformation may be caused because of biology or an emulation of western society or both! It’s the time when guys finally start giving a shit about girls and proving a point amongst their own sex. It’s a time when people know you and define you by your persona, demeanor, and abilities to blow cash and in frequent cases, your public accoutrement or external façade. The more criteria one satisfies, the cooler you are. Having learnt about expletives, alcohol, narcotics and sex years ago now is when the freedom comes to use it shamelessly and prove your coolness. Not having done much in life myself, and my hormones running wild almost every night upstairs (and downstairs!); I finally decided to take the ‘cool’ route. It’s all about NOT being you, but what the heck! As long as it makes you popular and gets you the chicks, that’s all you’re expecting in life at that point in time anyway.
First, let me begin with the physical appearance. Having ordinary short hair is not the way to go now. Even though it made me look smarter, coolness defines hair to be like the actors and popular celebrities. Now considering I’m no actor or barber myself, I must seek professional help. Blowing three grand on a haircut at Hakim’s doesn’t seem a bad idea now that I’m on the path to ‘coolness’. What’s more? If I shed double of that, I can even get my hair braided and streaked something that will make me even more uglier, but DEFINITELY cooler. You see, having disheveled, long hair like Steve Tyler does make for some coolness that’s for sure. Now with my hairdo in place, jewelry is next on the agenda. Piercing can be really painful; but because Shifty does it, I must do it too. A bali on the left ear is fine. The tongue and lips can wait for a while. A perfect accessory for dogs, is something that must feature round my neck; a thick chain. Man, this bling can make me famous really quickly. My wardrobe filled with Fido Dido and Noddy shirts must make way for oversized Adidas and Fubu. Even the ultra-cool don’t really give a shit about shoes but I can’t take chances, so I buy a cool pair of branded footwear to complete the combo. I must admit branded stuff all over me does make me give an uncanny semblance of a clown, but I must look expensive to get the gold-diggers attention.
Being an inherent part of my life, my music tastes must change heavily. I loved the Backstreets, Britney and Himesh. But now, coolness defines them to be music for the homosexual. I still have no idea how one classifies music according to sexual orientations, or classify any music according to superiority when its hearing is so subjective. But then being immature in most cases is what coolness is all about. Even though an album of Backstreet Boys sells more than what Maiden have ever sold over the past three decades combined; adding to the fact that the Backstreet Boys are far more popular; if not even make better music, at least to my ears; coolness demands a compromise. From now on 2Pac, BTNH, Behemoth etc is the order of the day. Now you’ll hear music at home or in the car go….
You Little young ass mutha-fuckas
Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something
You fucking with me, nigga ?
You fuck around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,
Bring it.
But we ain't singing,
We bringing drama
fuck you and your mother fucking mama.
We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.
Now the new craze is the guitar for some strange reason. Heavily clichéd, just because everyone is doing it I must do it too. Irrespective of the fact that there are other Indian musical instruments much more versatile than the guitar, it’s all about being western. My ideas about television must also change. Star World is the latest sensation to hit the cool masses. Friends I must watch though the jokes I do not comprehend! Now that I have realized that WWE is completely fake and completely wasted entertainment, I must switch over to Baywatch to titillate myself watching voluptuously and skimpily dressed women (or in cases, Hasselhoff!) running around beaches saving lives. Coolness stipulates the complete disdain towards Indian soaps, not limited to those by Ekta Kapoor; or for that matter anything Indian.
I have loved and admired Sachin Tendulkar all my life. But then, the cool junta now believes in Football and Formula One; both sports having close to zilch representation or interest in our country, even though the interest in other sports is appreciated. I find soccer a really lame sport, just kicking a ball here and there with people paying to see glorified stuntmen doing some fuck with the ball on the field. But now, considering I must be cool, I must have EPL conned by rote. The Manchester United v/s Arsenal battles can make for interesting (oh and extremely mature I must add!) fights in school. It also has dual application. Chicks usually watch football for the footballers and not really the sport, so it can make good conversation if I did know trivia about the game or a player or two.
Being really impressed with cars, coolness gives me the strong to try taking them for a ride. Even though I’m at least five years short of the legal age limit, keeping the pandu’s at bay is certainly not a big deal when you’re in Mumbai. The real experience of adulthood comes alive when a few lessons from some senior or dad gives me the liberty of doing 90 on the freeways late in the night. Totally oblivious to the fact that there are goons out there on the roads looking for prey as pedophiles or retards looking for make-shift beggar-converting hopefuls or just painful cops looking to earn big money by extortion catching juvenile delinquents; I ride carelessly with my cool dudes with the woofers at capacity creating an absolutely ruckus on the road. The quickest way to fame among your artificial cool friends I must confess. Acquiring alcohol and fags wasn’t the toughest thing to do, especially when you’re on the roads in the wee hours of the night where some baniyas on the road are looking to make some last moment earning and not giving a fuck about ethics. The last time, Sooraj had flicked two bottles of classy vodka from his dad’s cupboard which we enjoyed; but this time I had a few hundreds of rupees I took from mom for some fabricated school picnic which was going to make the purchase. Dope was too expensive plus difficult to personally purchase when you’re 12. Although, we had Chintan in between his third packet of fags in the past 2 hours; telling us fables about how his friends went high on grass in Lonavala one night. Very visibly untrue, but as long as it is true to the spirit of coolness, it’s never questioned.
Now school is the place (in addition to tuitions for the dolts!) where there is heavy socialization with girls (I was in co-ed for the uninitiated). Now in high school, and to the true spirit of coolness, one finally has his adrenaline pumping at the thought of women. Similar to the women as well, so it works in perfect synergy. But then, in school, a guy thinks with his penis more than his brains; so his options are much more restricted to the more visually appealing women. Being cool is undeniably about having chicks around you, and to have the prettier array around is an icing on the cake. Even here, the principle of women being loaded upstairs and downstairs applies! A good initiator of conversation with the ladies makes for celebrity status at school, if not one eventually ends up dating. Physical intimacy was pretty much an alien concept at that time, but guys in general would love to get their hands, legs, lips or any other thing on the precociously-developed, tender anatomy of a woman. Free porn on the internet or video libraries also has its fair share of credit for guys to think about objects to press in pairs at the mere thought of a female.
The simplest beginning to get popular is firstly, to get noticed! Undisciplined conduct in school makes an instant connect with the cooligans. It could range from not bringing books to school, back answering teachers, not doing homework to the more daring brand of bunking lectures and leaving school in the midst of class hours. The more severe it is, the cooler you get! The flak one will proceed to receive from the authorities at school is pretty harmless as long as the cool community has their brows raised at my actions. The simple policy that follows almost everywhere is that rules are MEANT to be broken! Academics in general (and in specific!) go for a complete toss with such an attitude. But as long as it makes me popular in school or with some chick in bed, I’m not complaining.
Now just because I’ve adorned myself and my actions to the loosest standards one can achieve in society, my thoughts and beliefs must not lag behind in correspondence. Coolness is also about an attitude that you must have, if not, at least a false external manifestation of it to make the complete cool packaged individual. I must in general be completely contemptuous towards those other mediocre assholes that are not cool. I must only talk to people who listen to my kind of music and consider the rest as panzees and losers if not gay. I must be extra sweet and modest with girls and flirt with them at any and every possible opportunity. Though, the reality of essentially being a haughty bastard must come to the fore for the negligees. I must always have my cool gang in my environs and indulge in making life for panzees miserable and ruling the school like there is no other. I, at every point in time must show myself to own a lot of money, even though I had none, to impress those who actually have none. Everything for me must be convenient, and I have grown extra lazy to even bother about the perceived nerdy things in life.
Now as I reflect on those jolly days in school, when I just didn’t give a fuck about anything and everything for the desire of becoming illustrious amongst my comrades, I revel today in this cherished legacy. I completely lost my individuality and was never able to define myself as anything else but ‘cool’. Being artificial and betraying my own esteem worked wonders for me in life. I didn’t really end up banging a chick eventually. My friends in those days of yore considered it a miracle I passed with 55.1% in the ICSE. I’m still hung on to cigarettes, specifically a few packets a day that I had introduced myself to, secretly in the public garden when I was 11. I had lost everything I had which, as a student, I would have been thankful for. I blew a lot of cash and a lot of parental respect in the fond hope of becoming cool someday. My purpose of being cool had really served me well.