The hardest two years of my life...

It has come to the end.

It was more than two years ago I decided to leave a land which I decided I could never live in - nanny states and regimentation were something that I could never stomach (one of the many reasons why I can't join the army - though some of my friends, them of little faith, have fervently expressed the desire to see me take the physical).

It was about that time that I decided to throw that job at an Indian IT company away (Words cannot express how glad I am to have done that).

It was also about that time that I decided not to think of going to the United States of America - the more I see stuff like this, the gladder I am that I decided to opt out. I can but express my sympathy for the poor American people held in thrall by Cheney and his gang of crypto-fascists.

And it was also about this time that I decided to pack my bags and move home and hearth to Europe. Two years have since passed - during which I've lived in two countries, travelled to six countries (including one where I ended up by accident, spending twenty minutes as an illegal alien), in eight houses, worked on a thesis that went on interminably, wrote pitifully less, struggled with my political and religious conscience, met some people (one in particular) I am glad to have bumped into, and some others (one in particular, again) whom I wish I had never set eyes upon.

I have spent whole days, nights - and even weeks - locked up in basement laboratories struggling with little electronic monsters I detest at times - but to whom, yet, I have linked my lot for the next three years or so. I have spent whole nights partying, redefining the meaning of the word bacchanalian.

I have travelled as much as I could possibly afford. During my sojourns, most people I met were unexceptionably nice - some a little too nice, even! I have also met ignorant and racist cunts - though thankfully, very few of the latter.

I have lived in some great places with people from all over the world, and some places I'd rather forget about (and would, if it were not for those 400 euros those arsewipes still owe me!).

I have learnt to speak a new language, can speak an Indian language better than I ever could when I lived in India (Hindi, if you must know), and can hardly speak an Indian language I once spoke almost as fluently as a native speaker did (Tamil, sadly enough). Surprisingly, I found myself speaking less English in the home of English than I did in India - an irony that surpasses all else!

I have seen stereotypes of people, races, places, and genders I'd built up over the years smashed into teeny weeny bits. For instance,

1. You do not necessarily get along best with people from your own nation. This is particularly true when your country is a mosaic of nations like mine is.

2. This almost contradicts my previous observation, but I've realised that our neighbours to the west are not the evil, bearded, India-hating fanatics that we imagine them to be. They are just like us, to use a cliche, speak the same language (well, kind of - when one's from the South of India), eat the same food, and are just as warm. Oh, and round these here parts, we're all Pakis, innit.

3. Every European does not go about having sex with every person from the opposite (or the same) sex he/she meets.

4. It's okay to be gay. They're no different from the rest of us - I stayed with a gay bloke for a month before discovering that he was (gay, not that he was a bloke).

4. Every Brit is not the cold, evil bloke you see in Indian movies kicking the crap out of a poor Indian. Evil people are evil; irrespective of age, sex, and race. Nick Griffin, meet Pravin Togadia and the Shahi Imam Bukhari.

5. To espy the Union Jack does not mean that your eyes have to necessarily drift down to see the aforementioned Indian having the crap kicked out of him.

6. Being able to speak five languages doesn't make learning the sixth any easier. Especially if the sixth language is German. Ja, nach ein Jahr, kann ich nicht gut und richtiges Deutsch sprechen. :(

And now, I've finished this journey. Too soon, perhaps.

But in either case, you're speaking to Siddhu Warrier, MSc, MSc. YAY!

The author requests uncles and aunties interested in finding a phoren-educated English speaking husband for their daughters with nice bodies and empty heads (they have to be retarded to want to be with the author) to contact mum. The author's mum is requested not to reveal details of her son's financial situation to aforementioned uncles and aunties.

The request for other pretty women (age, sex, caste, religion, and race no bar) to contact the uthor still stands. The author spends half his waking hours waiting for your calls/texts. No, it doesn't look like he'll give up either.