A lot has been spoken about online marketing by the marketing professionals across the globe. The new buzz for marketers is 'Social Media'. Social media involves using various platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, YouTube,Flickr etc. However the million dollar question is which platform is suitable for my brand?.
Most of the companies are jumping on to the social media bandwagon without realizing what their core objective is. I-want-to-be-there because everyone else is there. How many of us wake up early in the morning and check the status update of our friends on FB or tweet about last night's hang over. Not Many I guess. Now you might be wondering whats Return on Investment(ROI) go to do with Delhi or Delhites. Well in the title ROI stands for Rest of India.There has always been some kind of cold war among various cities based on their personality, traits and characteristics.I am definitely not trying to be racist here,but presenting you the facts.However hardly would have people imagined that this small cold war of cities would create a ruckus in the digital world.
Few months back there a blog which almost created a digital racism war. The blogger was Sahana Nair Joshi(yes you read it write coz she is a part South Indian and part Maharashtrian). Sahana apparently came to the capital two years ago and was sad to see that the average Delhi boy lived up to his reputation of being ignorant, chauvinistic oaf with the intelligence levels of an autistics 3-year old(these are not my words but quoted in Hindustan Times dated 15th September 2011). She was apparently ditched by one of the Punjabi guy which made her to vent her emotions on her blog the same night.
From the time this blog was written it was all over the web and created a national divide of some sort.It received thousands of comments and the followers of the blog from some 30 odd increased to some odd thousands. Most of us who are not active on Twitter would have missed this online battle. Hence I thought I should share this with you all.
STAGE 1:
OPEN LETTER TO A DELHI BOY
Dear Delhi boy,
Namaskaram from the South of India, or as you may like to believe, the countries south of the Vindhyas. I came to your city 2 years ago with a brand new job and a bucketload of expectations. My friends and family here thought I was completely insane to choose Delhi over more female conducive cities like Bangalore or even Bombay. I am very sad to report that your reputation of being an ignorant, chauvinistic oaf with the intelligence levels of an autistic 3 year old on crack precedes you and it hurts me even more to admit to this rather accurate description.
Your reputation has travelled far and wide, to countries outside South India as well. And believe me man, it is not a pretty situation. I understand that your stone faded, ripped jeans, your V-neck cleavage showing t-shirts that reveal to the world that you have infact inherited your mother’s voluptuous shaved Punjabi bosom, are what you think maketh a man, but it does not. It only maketh for a man who gets a pity license to share his girlfriend’s bra. I write to you as a woman who has been brought up in a society free of any discrimination towards women so thanks to you, my living in Delhi is as safe as Hugh Hefner’s playmate of the year living in Jeddah.
You meet me at a friend’s birthday, talk to me about nightclubs and your new SUV and when I look like I’m in desperate need of a barf bag, you think I have an attitude problem. I understand this completely. But let me remind you that I am from SOUTH INDIA and not SOUTH DELHI, so no ,I am not scrawny, I am not fair, I don’t have straight hair and my topics of conversation go beyond the Fendi I saw in last month’s Vogue. I am olive-skinned, have lower –back-length lustrous cascading tresses that sometimes make me look like I fell out Jim Morrison’s tour bus. Got a problem with that? Well just suck it up coz I was born into a society where a woman can whoop your Punjabi patoutie to pulp. While your mother pretends to be very progressive but still cows down to the whims of her husband every single time, mine on the other hand was born into a matriarchal home where every single possession is in the rightful name of the girl child. Could you ever, my hunky handsome, cash throwing pig, imagine this kind of power in your society? So stop telling me that women are not treated like trash where you come from. Just shut up and admit to it. It’s just easier that way. And lest we forget that we’ve managed to curtail the number of rape cases despite not having a female Chief Minister. Amma ‘s body composition generates way too much heat for her get out of her AC room anyway, so don’t even bring that up.
And your English. Good Lord, what in the world is up with that? I don’t want you to ‘explain me’ anything. It’s like you need to go to primary school all over again. And call them your parents, not your ‘peerents’ or what your cooler, more happening brethren call them—‘mere mom-dad’. Like what are they? Conjoined twins? Are they joined at the hip? Your South India counterparts may not have your looks, but are way more mentally stimulating, a quality that eludes you obviously, but has been the single most sexy factor for us Southie chicks since the age of five. I mean once again, who can blame you? You were brought up on Gurdas Mann and the heroic deeds of Devinder Singh Bhullar and the ever so fair concepts such as elections in Phugwada while we mere ‘black-colour waale’ mortals had to make do with Bharatnatyam classes, M.S Subhalakshmi and chess. Shame no? And yes, if by a slight chance, you do find my big dancer eyes attractive enough for you to prolong our conversations and meetings and if by an even slighter chance you fall in love with me and decide to marry me, you will have to wear a mundu and you will have to lie prostrate shirtless at the Guruvayurappan temple. A small price to pay for all the genuine independence I am giving up for you. And that’s the real thing, not what you see the Delhi girls at LSR and Stephen’s doing during their fake as hell protest marches coz ultimately they’re going home to a family who’re putting together money for Bobby beta’s bail coz he just ran over his girlfriend’s ex, by mistake of course.
I understand that I come from the land of ugly. I mean obviously Hema Malini, Sri Devi and Aishwarya Rai with their natural banal looks don’t even hold a candle to Priyanka Chopra after her two nose jobs and one lip reconstruction surgery. Not a chance in hell. But when you do come to ask for my hand, remember I am part Maharashtrian and part South Indian and NO, they are not the same thing. So please tell your family, not to drop racist bombs like “Arey woh sab toh ‘Sawth’ ke hi hote hai na?” And YOU—don’t walk up to mother in an attempt to make flattering conversation and say shit like “Aunty you don’t look like a South Indian You are so fair” In return she will verbally Texas chainsaw massacre your face so badly, your dead Dadi will haunt you the very same night, telling you how fleeing Pakistan was less traumatic. So don’t. Better still just don’t speak. Just glean and flex your muscles a little and keep smiling. Just whatever you do, don’t talk.
You may not like our food, but then we don’t like you, which is worse. We may not be even that into food, but then that’s coz we have other things to do with our lives, like crack IIT or become writers, journalists, activists and do things that we are very passionate about. The South Indian woman has a voice and boy can she yell. So if you want to Sambhar ‘Chawl’ your way into my life, then you got to toe the line. Be way more aware than what your are. Remember Delhi is not a country and we are not Black. If I ever hear you utter that name of that colour, I will Kalaripayattu your tongue out of your rear. Yes , that is the secret behind our awesome sex ratio. Just so you know.
For someone who is so confident of his physical abilities you really suck at luring an intelligent woman. Don’t send me text messages that say ‘happy guru purab’, you freakshow and if you want to be cute with your ever so charming (not) Punjabi advances, then don’t send texts that say “Dil laye gayee kudi Madrraaas di”! NO. It’s just not cool man. I may have have missed on a lot in this letter, but that’s ok because you’ll forget to read it and even if you do , you’ll get your cousin Jassi from Defence Callonny to translate it for you. And this letter can’t go on forever like the Punjabi male ego.
So long my love, and here’s two steps of gidda just for you, just to show that I can be traditional and will not accidently kick your sister while doing so.
Love, hugs, kisses aka ‘muah’ (only I shall ‘muah’, you please don’t do anything coz you tend to forget that these are my lips and not a piece of Tandoori Chicken from Kakke- Da- Dhabba)
Yours
Madrasan
(Only I can call myself that. If you EVER call me by this name, I will shove so many coconuts down your system that your little saver pack versions will begin to sprout coir.)
Now here is the reply to the above blog by people who were offended
STAGE 2:
OPEN LETTER TO A DELHI BOY (BY MADRASAN) - RESPONSE (BY DELHI BOY ONLY)
Madrasan girl,
What is wrong in driving SUV? U know, there is four month waiting for Fortuner. It is great car – even better than my old Civic. Its not for what you think yaar, not for pataoing girls n all, im a car freak. I have need for speed.
And about complexion, It don’t matter if youre black or white. Aishwarya and jaya lalitha (CM of Madras) are so white like us. So its cool. You can be black but don’t be complexed about this yaar. I hate this fair n lovely n all. Just be comfortable yaar. So many rappers people are black, more black than you, but they don’t use fair n lovely or fair n handsome. They are cool like this only.
I think you don’t like Punjabi accent. Me too – I don’t like. But it is only in West Delhi people – like pappes of Punjabi Bagh and Rajouri and all. Im South Delhite and we don’t have Punjabi accent at all. Many my relative live in UK, US, Dubai and all.. Next year, im going to my mamaji’s place in US of A. I know I can speak good American accent also. Also don’t mind but some Southies have very bad accent – they say emm ehh or something. I know it is because of voice problem or something and they are good from heart.
And what abt this you say Punjab male ego? No man.. we are very chilled people yaar. My cousin brother wife wears bikini n all when she go abroad. My dadaji dadiji are cool with it. We respect women too much. For Rakhi, I gave my sis 25 grand – money is for spending only, yaar.
You think that you madrassis n bengalis n all all are intelligent only. No yaar, not true. So many my cousins and colony people study in DU. And one guy (specsy) is doing engineering from IP university. My mom dad also tell me to join regular college for good college experience but yaar, I know my carier is modelling only. So im working very hard to build good body. Too much competition in this field but my bhuaji knows some big fashion designers so I hope I get break. Maybe I also try for Roadies or Splitsvilla – both my favurite shows – but Raghu takes too much in the audition round yaar.
First I read your letter I feel angry but then I feel that this girl maybe have some bad experience with some Rajouri guys. Come to GK side yaar – we are cool – hangout at Costa or at pubs and all. I know madrassis get angry like Sreesanth but it is not good. He is in and out of team. Be cool like Dhoni . He is always captain only yaar,
;-)
Delhi Boy
P.S: All the above information is publicly available online. It does not represent the views of brandchaska in any way. (Probably my last attempt on writing such a long post)
