Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

If you've ever been to a "Desi" or Indian Party, you've undoubtedly have seen it come to an end or have it broken up due to a fight. Its an absolutely amazing phenomenon that has transcended various generations of Indians, and to this day the fighting continues. The reason I call it a phenomenon is because generally speaking, Indians probably have the worst genetic make up when it comes to fighting. Unless we were gonna start swinging stethescopes, or using our moustaches as swords, I think we're pretty useless. Of course, the fighting is not caused by some deeply universal cause, but rather something even more profound.

For example, the following conversation may cause a fight:

Raj: Yo, kid what you gonna wear to the party tonight?

Jay: I was thinking about rocking my new Express shirt

Raj: Oh word, that's cool.

Then both Raj and Jay show up to the party.

Jay: What the fuck bro! I told you I was rockin my new Express shirt and you still wore the same one. That's fucked up shit son. You don't do that to your boy!

Raj: Oh yeah....what you gonna do about you skinny ass punk?

Jay: I'll show you what I'm gonna do about it.

At this point, Jay instead of being a man and taking on Raj, will pull out his cell phone and call 10 of his buddies. "Fellas, we got a code red! Raj, that punk ass is wearing the same shirt as me, I need you guys here right away. He goes down tonight".

Jay: Raj, you know what I shouldn't have over reacted

Raj: That's right, you better know who your talking to

BAM! WHACK!

Just then Raj gets hit over the head with a beer bottle, and 10 of Jay's friends start punching and kicking him, and take the poor guy down. This will undoubtedly lead to Raj getting Jay the same way at the next party, and fighting continues. Yes, Mahatma Gandhi would be so proud.

What makes the whole thing even more intriguing is that living in the 6-degrees-of-seperation culture we live in, Raj will probably end up marrying Jay's cousin. That's when things get really interesting. For example, to keep the feud going Jay may not invite Raj to the family barbecue, or worst he may invite him and make him drink Kingfisher while the rest of the family gets to enjoy Johnny Walker Black.

All I'm saying, is that aren't we missing the point here? The real culprit is Express for making more than one kind of the same exact shirt - those bastards! However, I can't blame Express for the stupidity that is "Young Indian Man", but I bet if I researched it a little better I'd find the same situations exist in most cultures.

Desi Parties

Aaaah yes, the Desi Party. Where you wait in line, till your hands go numb, and hope to grind on a drunk Indian girl before her friends spot you and pull you away. I feel in today's day and age the desi party is almost a right of passage of Indian College Students in America. This right of passage is present everywhere, however, in the NY/NJ area it is very prevalent. For those of you who may not know, "Desi" is a slang term for Indian, and a "Desi" party is one that is predominantly Indian. The DJ is Indian, the attendees are Indian, however the bouncer is always Black (usually a big dude).

I remember my first Desi Party like it was yesterday. I was too cheap to pay for the coat check so I waited in line without a coat on a January night in New York. The bouncer kept yelling at people to form a line, and being that everyone was Indian, nobody could understand this concept. There was always 1 or 2 Indian guys with cell phones or walkie talkies going in and out of the place like they were important and there were always hords of idiots trying to tell them that they are important and worthy of entry. "Bro, I'm Samir's girlfriend's brother. he didn't tell you I was coming?" Retarded phrases such as these fill the air, and undoubtedly result in the Indian with the walkie talkie telling the Bouncer "I don't know him. Unless he's got like 6 girls with him, he doesn't get in". Of course, by doing this he was only teasing the poor bastard.

My favorite part of Desi Parties is all the planning involved. First you lookup the party (http://www.desiparty.com/), then you find out who is going. As a guy, the critical thing was to always try to roll with girls, so you didn't look like a loser. You finally decide on a place to pre-game and off you go. The doors open at 10 PM but because your Desi - just to be safe you show up at 9, and the line is already half way down the block. You wait, and wait, and finally the group in front of you gets in. Just when you begin to give up hope you hear those magical words "Let me see your ID please". With shivering hands you give the bouncer your id, and get your ticket. At this point you've never been so glad to pay $20 to walk into a place. Finally, you step foot inside the club and out of the cold, and its a huge family re-union.

Off to the bar you go! Some SoCo and Lime shots are downed (manly enough, and weak enough for the Indian tolerance). The music is always pretty good, and you like a gazelle in the wild you look for your prey. An Indian girl who happen to be dancing by herself. You soon realize this is not the case, and they only travel in packs. So then you chug your drink, and go behind an unsuspecting lady with your liquid confidence. Slowly you approach her. She's not looking and neither are her friends. You make your move! You rush behind her before any other guy can and start violently banging your crotch against her behind in hopes of serenading her. She turns around and gives you a sign that you may continue. Your in! You'v e captured your prey. Your feeling victorious. Just before you let out the Johnny Drama Victory yell, you've been spotted by her friend. She does the unthinkable. She grabs the girl away from you and leaves you by yourself.

In conclusion, this cycle is repeated many times. Each time your dissed the number of shots taken increases. Then in order to hold your head up high the Dj plays Bhangra and you find your boys and dance as if that was what you went for in the first place.