Technicality of Profanity

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this story are absolutely personal and doesn’t necessary motivate anyone in the audience to practice what I say in the next 10 or so minutes.

Bottom line: Please don’t try this at home and become a foul mouthed son of a bitch.

But yes I’d surely appreciate if it is able to change the mindset of some people.

Hello everyone. I’m Kashyap Shakya and am here to tell you a story about the “Technicality of Profanity”.

So once upon a time in 1998 I went to pursue engineering at Kamla Nehru Institute of Technology (KNIT) a.k.a. “Kala Naag In Trousers”. The story starts from the very parody name of the institute. I along with other two “baklols” joined the institute about a month late as we were state nominated students from Sikkim.
The first scene going around the college to complete the formalities of admission were some groups of students moving around predominantly in white shirt and grey pants, very short hair fully oiled with head held low (which was actually called the third button meaning you’re supposed to stare at the third button of your shirt at all times).
And in some places you could see people doing the sit ups and in some places you could see some students literally worshiping a tree.
A while later my dad, who’d done his engineering from Patna, explained to me that this was all part of 'Ragging'.
Anyways we got admitted and unfortunately we were put up in the 3^rd year hostel. Now being a fresher and putting up in the 3^rd year hostel is like admitting a 3 year old to a ghost house. Because the 3^rd year is the most notorious and the most jinxed phase of engineering.
So then things went on and for the first time we entered the first year hostel and again there was the mandatory regular ragging going on with seniors all around. You could see people running around with underwears on top of their pants. They called it the Phantom.
But in a few days what actually got my attention was the swearing and the cursing that was going around. And everyone taking it so lightly. You could hear words like Madarchod, bahanchod, saala Bakchod, bhosadike, teri maa ki … and all sorts of obscenities that you could think of.
And the first time anyone said those words to me, I was ENRAGED, PISSED OFF AND REALLY REALLY ANGRY. To the extent that I was almost on the verge of a fist fight with a senior, who was a local there. I was 1000’s of miles away from home and that could have landed me in a serious serious problem. I could have been bashed up to a pulp. But somehow I kept my calm.
During this time there were a few seniors who were observing me. They were from the northern part of UP, now called the Uttarakhand. They came to me and told me to come to their room. The rest of the guys around me went silent. That was actually a ROOM CALL. A room call meant there was something drastic going to happen. During room calls some guys were made to strip butt naked, some were made to eat a condom and some were made to sit in mid air for hours.
Now this was tension. But anyways I went to their room. There were 3 or 4 in the room. It was hot like hell. Like around 49 degrees. The room smelt of sweat mixed with really rotten socks mixed with some alcohol mixed with some dead rat mixed with some puke and what not.
So one of the seniors started off with something like, “tereko bahut ghussa ata hai, nai? Tere ko gaali nahin pachti?" And then he made me swear to the rotating ceiling fan for almost 15 minutes with the worst words I could come up with. I tried my best. And after being disappointed, one of them gave me a demo of how it is done. This time I was not enraged because we were swearing at the fan.
And now came the major turning point. The senior comes and tries to calm me down and gives me a FUNDA. A mantra I’ve carried from then on.
He tells me, “dekh beta, ye ek technical college hai. Yahan pe jo hota hai sab technical hai. Aur jo gaali chalta hai yahan, who bhi technical hai.” Now I was a bit confused. And then he starts explaining to me what is so technical about everything in an engineering college.
Literally there was the technical intro, technical aarti, technical namaz and everything else was technical.
So he explains to me about the technicality of the GAALI. He tells me, "see if someone calls you a madarchod, then he actually means your technical mother, if someone calls you behenchod then he’s actually referring to your technical sister, if he calls you betichod, he’s referring to your technical daughter and so on.
And who were these technical people? Technical mother = female senior from the college, technical sister = your female batchmates, technical beti = your female junior, technical father = your male senior.
I was hit so hard by this philosophy. Yes philosophy. From generations to generations the students had evolved to make up this ecosystem in such a way that balance was maintained perfectly irrespective of caste, creed, age, seniority, geography etc. That was the perfect route to HARMONY.
I was so so relieved. It was like cutting the thread of a gas filled balloon and letting it go. Or like having a bottle of soda and burping loud. It was so satisfying to understand that. The veil that was shadowing my perception was completely fallen and now I could see clearly. My clouded mind was cleared. And then I lived for four years happily ever after swearing and cursing.
I literally became one of the best foul mouthed son of a bitch throughout my four years to the extent that even the locals would feel competition in front of me.
The basic moral still didn’t come right away. I realized quite later that if only the whole world or even just our nation for a while, considered this philosophy of looking at things from a different perspective and different dimension, would it help to bring at least some amount of peace in the society? Like someone comes and says Fuck you and you say Thank you. And I’ve carried that in my mind all along and have learnt to take such things lightly. Nowadays I’m enraged by not the swearing and the cursing but other unjust and anti-social activities happening around me.
And I’d just like to add on to this story. Being brought up in a Newari family, swearing with words like Mampaga is very common. Like we use it in our home without any reservations. Sometimes my mom shows a bit of dissatisfaction but again it’s ok. And I’ve been notoriously famous for teaching such words to all my cousin’s kids. You can imagine 3 year olds going around shouting Mampaga when guests are there. Honestly, it’s very very cute.
And I’ve been trying to teach the same to my two year old. But god’s punishment comes in different ways. He JUST DOESN’T SAY IT. And I’m so disappointed. I would like to capture a video of him saying Mampaga and show it to him when he grows up but NO. He just wouldn’t say it. And finally I’d like to say that my crusade is still on hoping that my prodigal son will spell out that magic word one of these days and I’ll capture it and flaunt it out on facebook.

Also check out the video of my talk at StoryYellers at https://youtu.be/_dr1ViIO1bQ

Image Source: Internet