Hey there…well its been over a year since I started this thing up, mostly as a means of holding onto the few shreds of my sanity that remained while living among the Stepford wives of Chandigarh. Headquarters are now in Bombay. At first there were conspirators…fellow cyber depressives seeking solace from the boredom of living in a glorified retirement village where the “golf club” is the most happening place in town, and where the most interesting thing that happened all week was watching your pet pug try to hump the neighbors dog. All the sweet idealistic crap I’ve written below about “traces of popcultural memory” and shit is just a bad hangover from my degree in cultural theory- ugh- wasn’t the real world a kick in the ass? anyway, can’t help myself- I keep coming back here- finding the odd piece of strange- and really, the weirdness never ceases- life may be a royal pain in the backside- but you can’t really ever call it boring- not unless your head is still up your arse while its being kicked-
Last year’s ROTD manifesto:
A lost chappal, some sandy traces, Old bollywood film clips and posters, bits of music from here and there, uncanny adds, late night beer-guzzling stupidities, bad movies that made you spit out your popcorn and “never again” all-nighters writing pointless essays and/or drinking strange concoctions that make you have strange dreams about evil ponies, snakes with fur and ronald mcdonald babies… The “remains” part “of the desi” is to do with all those little traces, objects, memories and comments that, when we return to them, become a sort of popcultural history through which some of us remember who we were…why we were that way…and what made us laugh for whatever random reason.
Remember this weird Desi McDonald’s add? (looks like the spawn of that evil clown played by Tim Curry in “It”.)
Image from weird
But there are just too many of these remains for me to be able to remember them all…and the same goes for some of the guest writers at ROTD….and especially because a lot of the people writing for ROTD have been living in different cities and countries…it sort of turned into a common room to check in, have a laugh (and perhaps a smoke) and have a quick connect.
Remains of the Desi is where lost letters arrive at their destination. So grab your beverage of choice and open a Category at random. Let us know what you think. We are collectors, writers, chefs, academics, and cyber addicts…and we display our found and produced objects here; remains, remarks, remembered jokes, and other desi debris.