[This is really weird. I have received at least 2 emails which have informed me that my old post 1 900 Hotties gives a 404 error. What makes it weird is that I can see it perfectly fine (and no not from the cache). I have no idea why this is so. So, I repost my ” 1 900 Hotties”— hoping sincerely that it is not the content that is making browsers misbehave.]
When Rahul had come to US to do his Masters in Computer Science (what else…after all he is a desi) he had the standard immigrant dream—–dollars, a house, two cars and two kids. Well not quite. Sure he wanted all these things but what he wanted most of all was to live his fantasy nurtured through years of watching MTV and Channel V. In his dreams, life in US was a never-ending hedonistic pleasure-trip of bikini-clad girls dancing on the beach and partying the night away in a psychedelically lit disco. And so the day he got admission into graduate school in US he thought that the gateway to heaven had finally opened.
However the educational system brought him back to reality with harsh lashings of its whip. He found out soon enough that the only thing he could play around with was the Linux kernel, the only promiscuous mode he would ever see would be in computer networks. It was not that he did not try——he and a couple of his friends took the campus bus and went to a bar to “pick up blondesâ€. All that happened was that they sat there, drank alone, stared at each other, ogled the ladies who did not seem to even look at them through their cascading locks of gold and came back even more frustrated than before. His friends still went to bars regularly; one of them even took the phone number of a girl he danced with on New Year’s but well that was all they could do. Rahul after the few few days had stopped frequenting bars and pubs——there was no way he could ever get noticed. “It don’t matter if you’r black or white†sung Michael Jackson but according to Rahul when it comes to hitting on chicks in bars, it does matter if you are brown.
And so life went on. Rahul stayed in a loft with 2 other desis—while the American students downstairs would start partying from Thursday night he had to be contented with peering down at the girls making out with the guys on the porch and listening to the cries of passion emanating through the thin wooden walls while he ate his vegetable chow mein from his small white bowl.
He had tried chatting with girls on the Net but he could not trust anything on chat—–it was obvious that the girls who wanted to talk “hot†were not really girls at all. And the girls, the very few that there were, would be immensely boring and trying to make “friendship†of the long term variety——-something that Rahul did not have the time for. I mean after nights of endless coding he reasoned that talking about his family, his hobbies and his zodiac sign was a waste of effort when all he wanted was to get down to business.
Our story is about one fine night. At 2:30 he had returned from school. The code had core-dumped without any explanation, his advisor was breathing down his neck, the Chinese TA had put a B on an assignment unfairly. A night like any other night he thought as Rahul threw his head back on the torn couch and tried to collect his thoughts. His apartment mates Rohan and Vikas had gone shopping in the evening and God knows where they were so late——maybe sleeping.
In a reflex action he started surfing the channels on his TV——-was there anything good on? All infomercials—–the fat burning grille, the get-rich-by-selling-real-estate, the Christ-is-waiting-to-rescue-your-soul, the amazingly loaded laptop that will be sold out in 10 minutes———–nothing new…………and then something caught his eye.
“Are you tired?†asked a heart-wrenchingly beautiful blonde.
Yes he was —Rahul thought . Most definitely.
She was then joined by another bountiful babe who pouted: “Are you lonely?â€
Yes he was—-yes he most certainly was.
Another brunette with a generous display piped in: “We are waiting for your call big boyâ€.
Then a voice-over said encouragingly: “We have real girls in your area who want to meet you and have a good time. Call 1-900-HOTTIES to blow your mind.â€
A cut to the three girls now slithering among themselves: “What are you waiting for? The night is still young. 1-900-HOTTIES…….â€
The phone lay on the adjoining couch. Rahul looked at it longingly. Was this the real way to meet local girls? Of course not, this is a phone sex line; he knew all about them. He flipped the channel again—-a Discovery channel special on the mating habits of the Siberian bear. He looked at the phone again. Why not try it? What if the girls from his university were doing it for money? What if he gets lucky? And at the worst, there would be a real girl talking dirty on the other side——just the perfect arrangement. No aggravation of conversation, just jump to the good parts, no threat of rejection, total confidentiality ——and he had caught the rate on the ad— it was $1.49 per minute. And the first 3 minutes were free. If he kept it down to 10 minutes then it could be a deal. He had just been paid…….and come on he owed it to himself.
He hesitated a bit and then his hand reached out to the phone. An automated husky voice greeted him and asked him to punch in his credit card number. Rahul thought again—should he go ahead? After this there was no going back………. he who hesitates is lost—–he punched in his Mastercard. A reassuring voice told him that his card was being authorized and that he would not be charged till 3 minutes into a conversation with a real girl. Rahul liked the sound of that—-nothing sleazy, full and fair business. In India sleaze means getting ripped off but here in US there is honor in smut. One of the many things he liked about the country.
A real female voice came on: “Hi sir how would you like to be addressed?â€
Rahul asked: “Am I being charged from now?â€
The friendly voice replied:“ No sir not yet. I am the pleasure facilitator (what a beautiful job Rahul thought)….my job is to know a little bit about what you would like so that we can give you a fantastic experience. Yes sir how would you like to be addressed?â€
Rahul thought of providing a false identity……..but then he wanted to be addressed by his own name. It was more personal and heck who would ever know? But then again from his experiences in the bars he thought better of it and replied in his best American accent (which was pretty good)
“Bob S..â€
“Just first name please sir. Here we only go by our first names. So Bob what kind of girl would you like: Swedish exchange-student, Japanese schoolgirl, Russian dominatrix, Vietnamese submissive, all-American cheerleader or an ebony pleasure-queen?â€
Wow Rahul thought—-a buffet of succulent ladies. Three cheers to capitalism. He thought for a while and said: “How about an all-American cheerleader?â€
“Sure Bob. We aim to please at 1-900-HOTTIES. Please wait why we redirect our call to your dream date. Your 3 minutes begin after she picks up the phone. Again congratulation on your choice…..and enjoy.â€
Rahul waited with bated breath. This sure beats the hell out of hanging endlessly in places where none even looked back at you. Instant, hassle-free gratification. In a few seconds he would be speaking to an All-American cheerleader…..
Click….and then an undecipherable voice…..a very thick Southern accent………Rahul could only make out a “howdy partner†and the rest of her words were lost in a mumble. Rahul in his American accent kept on repeating “Could you please speak a little louder?‗——but he could make neither head nor tail of what the girl was drawling. And in the corner of his brain the clock was ticking——–the free minutes would be over in a flash and he hadn’t yet understood what the hell she was trying to say.
And then straining to hear he could make out the background sound———–despite the very thick Texan accent there was something very familiar with the ambient noise which was also contributing to her voice being drowned out. And then it hit him. He knew that sound: the unmistakable drone of heavy traffic and riotous blowing of horns……………in which country are horns blown like this?
India! The penny dropped. The cheats had transferred his call to India! Texan beauty indeed———Rahul’s voice rose “Has this call been outsourced to India?â€
The voice at the other end immediately changed. A beautiful voice spoke in clear English: “I am sorry sir but yes your call has been outsourced to India. Actually to keep operating costs down, the company has had to globalize these calls. Sir this is just a fantasy—-I hope you understand Amorous Entertainment Ltd, our parent company, has no legal obligation to provide you with the all-American girl you asked for. I apologize for my accent: I normally do the Japanese and the Vietnamese girl————the girl who does the all-American cheerleader has just quit her job. I am really really sorry for this.â€
She continued with an amazingly sexy voice—“However truth be told I am from India—the land of Kamasutra where the girls are as lush as the mighty Ganga and know how to please……..I can be quite a handful. So tell me sir have you ever heard of the flying monkey position? Want me to tell you about it?â€
Rahul’s indignation had been replaced by sympathy. Poor Indian girl—-must be some college kid forced to do this because of financial constraints. Which Indian girl would ever do such things on her own? And the teary voice of the girl had aroused the man in Rahul—-poor lady. It was not her fault that the Texas girl quit—if this was an American he would abuse the poor Indian and hang up. But not Rahul. Even though he wanted to settle in US, he still loved his country. And its girls. And something about this girl’s helplessness also excited him—–he wondered why.
Rahul put on his best chivalrous knight tone. Reverting to his own accent he said : “ Hi I am Rahul not Bob. I am an Indian student too so you need not tell me about the Kamasutra———-I live by it (well a white lie but as she said this was all a fantasy!).â€
The girl laughed—a beautiful cadence—-Rahul’s heart missed a beat. This girl really had an amazingly sexy voice.
She said:“ Hi Rahul I am Kamna. Really pleased to meet you…..so where in India are you from?â€
Rahul glanced at the watch. Goddamn this was costing him plenty——–and they had not even talked a bit of what he had paid for. But he liked this—-actually this conversation was much more exciting than a few minutes of mechanized huffing and puffing that he would have hoped to get.
“Barodaâ€, he replied.
“Hey Baroda……cool I am from Baroda too,†her voice rose a level. They were friends now. “You must be one of those geniuses who go to US after their engineering.â€
Rahul smiled self-contentedly. That he was he had to accept. A genius that is.
What a coincidence thought Rahul. You have got to hand it to the Americans. They promised him local girls and by Jove had he got one.
Rahul then launched into a rant about how lonely he was. At least that would serve as a justification for dialing a sex chat line.
The girl was more than understanding about Rahul’s loneliness.“So don’t you have a girl friend there? Some hot blonde in US who can look after your needs?â€
Rahul sighed….of course he did not else else why would he be calling here?
“Well no Kamna . I prefer brown skin—–fairness turns me off.â€
The musical voice cooed. “So Rahul do you have any girl friend in India?â€
Rahul was feeling exceedingly honest. Somewhere subconsciously he was falling in lust with this goddess of love. And he needed to start this relationship by making a clean breast of things……
“No Kamna I do not….there was a girl in my locality I used to love……..mmm lust forâ€
Kamna giggled: “Tell me about her.â€
Rahul was breathing noticeably heavier now. Oh god he thought, this lady knew how to press the right buttons. He then launched into a lurid description of a girl who lived in the same housing society and whom he had spent countless nights “thinking†about…….and abetted by encouraging mmms and “tell me moreâ€s he was soon lost in explicit details of her anatomical attributes. Rahul thought of how delectably perverted this conversation had become but what amazed him was how accepting and understanding this Indian girl was———all the girls he had known were such behenjis. It was another matter that he was doing all the hot talking, the girl was merely encouraging him to go on and in the end he would have to foot the bill. Which Rahul realized must be quite high now. But he was no longer thinking with his head.
“Wow Rahul. Your dream girl seems to be right out of the Khajuraho temple……so is she the only one ?â€
Rahul was talking in an impassioned whisper by now. “She had an even hotter elder sister ……..I have often fantasized about both of them….togetherâ€
The girl giggled again: “So what were their names? And tell me about the fantasies involving both of them?â€
“ Sowmya and Anila‗—–Well there was this one time when……..â€
The girl’s tone changed a bit: “ Sowmya and Anila Mirchandani….â€
Was this one of them? Rahul’s heart was now turning cartwheels. Could it really be that one of the two goddesses was actually a phone sex operator ? And that he had been talking dirty to one of those unattainable fairies for so long? Well unattainable they no longer were…………Rahul excitedly replied: “ Yes yes……….do you know them?â€
There was silence at the other end. Had the line been cut off? Had the girl been so ashamed of being found out that she had disconnected? Oh no no please no good lord thought Rahul as he yelled “Hello hello are you there?â€
The voice had now undergone a Kafkian metamorphosis. “Bastard†she shouted….†I know you………….you are that pot bellied idiot who used to stay in No 24 and would try to peek into our house….go tell your dirty ideas to your own sister you bastard……shameless idiot…..look at yourself in the mirror even before you think of Sowmya and Anila…..one more thought about the two of them, I shall gouge out your hungry eyes and feed them to the crows and twist your little thingie out and leave it among the green chillies to dry…………you got that scumbag ? Your parents sent you to US to study and this is how you spend your time there—–shameless monkey…â€
A click of the telephone disconnecting and another automated voice………â€Thank you for using 1-900-HOTTIES. Your credit card has been charged $98.78 including call time, tax and state surcharges. We look forward to your business again.â€
$98.78———–that was almost what he spent on a month’s grocery. But money was the last thing on Rahul’s mind as he sat on the couch—–his head in his hands. He had recognized the voice that had berated him in the end. It was Kokila Aunty——the mother of Sowmya and Anila, happy-go-lucky, roly-poly and the local gossip server who offered Pujas three times a day. Now how on God’s earth could she be a sex-phone operator? Well evidently she was and Rahul had just spent $98.78 unloading his fantasies onto a lady pushing the wrong side of 50 and if that was not bad enough, his reputation in the housing colony was toast.
He knew very well that if ladies like Kokila Aunty wanted to take down a reputation she could do that effectively without getting herself scorched. He remembered the case of Lamba-uncle, an old bachelor who he found nice enough but who was whispered to be a gay pedophile. Now the rumor mill had a new goat on the block ……Rahul the local pervert. How was he ever going to go back and look at the mohalla people in the eye?
Oh well he would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it…..with his hands shaking he reached for his laptop. So much code still needed to be written—-at least no one here in US knew of this….that was the only saving grace.
“Duuuuuuude…….†Rahul looked up……..his apartment mates were standing in the corridor. Rohan was doubled up on the ground laughing and Vikas was staring at Rahul his mouth agape.
And then Rahul remembered. They had been to Walmarts that evening and bought an extension handset.
The world had gone very dark.
Thanks GreatBong,
My emails have been paid off by this post… jao aaj maaf kiya.
being from Baroda I am really touched to see that you know a little about it. Sex talk is a flourishing industry out there in baroda :). What else do you know bout barodians.
I thought these were well kept secrets.
Of all your funny entries, I think this one is the best.
I had read it on your old blog but it’s fun to read it again! Thanks!
Maaaan.. I’ve really been missing something
GB,
Great imaginaton. Or was it a real incident?
Good story telling man. You are the best. I love your Mithunda posts very much.
Bye,
Sanjay
Quote: “This is really weird. I have received at least 2 emails which have informed me that my old post 1 900 Hotties gives a 404 error….”
Make it 3…and Prabhuji, the infamous “Death of Desibaba” seems to be plagued by a similar problem..dying to have a bite of the same..
Desperate for a “verbal viagra”
Yes… “Death of Desibaba” gives the following error:
Error 404 - Not Found
Search bar and other tools go here! If you’re reading this, it needs to be implemented, remind me!
Wooo Hooo! I am reading it for the first time and ROTFL like a mad pig! Excellent narrative!!
One of the all-time best blogposts.
All american cheerleader….What imagination! For a moment I felt like Kevin Spacey in that unforgettable scene from one of my favorite movies- American Beauty.
You know what … this was around the Mumbai deluge time (In last july) and I was newly introduced to your blog. So impresed I was with this blog that I got prints of all your previous posts so that i could enjoy them in the comfort of my cosy room.( I was not having personal gudget that time, I still don’t have). In those days your blog made me forget what-all-the-hell was happening in the city.
I later on gave those prints to my roommate ( again a Barodaite) and oh boy, he was laughing like anything.
Made me recall so many things related to Mumbai which I left few months back.
It was a great post. Thanks.
You described the initial recording played at 1900-Hotties quite elaborately … personal experience
?
Jusk Joking !! … classic post .. great imagination and a excellent récit … u deserve literary prizes more than Kaavya Viswanathan !!!!
you are a mastercraftsman! making grad life easier.
I loved this post then … I love this post now.
Am from Baroda too. If what you have written is ture, then there were several thing about Baroda I didnt know about. And this is really screwed up. All I can say is, that this will be an experience you will treasure for your life. How many people do you know can boast of screw-ups bigger than this.
And to think 19-year olds get book deals and they miss out on you.
You made this up??
Howling like crazy… Zis was the best.
thanks for the repost.. had missed it first time around
this reminds me that the last time i checked the “death of desibaba” was missing too
this one is a classic though…
thanx a lot for the repost
Ha Ha Ha! sorry can’t stop laughing
Gr8 post !
you should get a copyright before I plagiarise it like vishwanathan
Classic KLPD
As one of the “campaigners” pitching for this post,I am glad that u have had the time to put it up.
Boy oh Boy,
ROTFL.Creative Indeed.U deserve some more mention in the media guruji
hey grtbong, I read it yrs back in ur blog :), still it is so refreshing..keep them comin !
YOURFAN writes:
@GB: I have read this post long time back but if I remember it correctly I did not post any comment. On second reading I liked it even more. Honestly, some of your readers in another post commented that your creative writing is not that good. I wholeheartedly differ from that view. I am sure they did not read this post. Or they might argue that this is not fiction but based on true experience – thus not a creative writing!! We, the readers have a tendency to think that the fiction is actually the writer’s own personal account – like people are saying that Kavyaa wrote about herself in her novel. Anyway, I loved the post – I really did. A magazine called Sananda (ABP publication) is bringing out a series where they will inform readers about job options and more importantly how to make money even staying at home. I am sure they have not read your post – otherwise I think they would have gone for this being a good option for stay at homes without getting into any legal/physical problem!!! No offence to anybody – just a joke. Again loved your post. I think you gave yourself the name Greatbong without honestly realizing that you, a bong who writes really great. Thanks for the fun I had while reading the post again.
By the way, besides your good and witty writing skills, all the readers’ comments including the negative ones and further comments arising from those negative ones make the reading of your posts that much interesting. I think you should have also reposted all the comments along with the repost of the article so that we could read all the comments at one go.
YOURFAN writes:
@GB: AN APPEAL: I am also getting Error 404 when I tried to access Death of Desibaba. I/we, the readers don’t like the idea that some articles can’t be accessed when desired. I also like to read the previous comments along with the posts. So PLEASE do something about it.
Too bad I haven’t read this post before, being a comparatively new reader.
Excellent Arnab da.
What a post. I am still LMAOing.
I had read it before, but not commented… I just don’t know what to write except ROFL
By the way Arnabda… I think you wrote once that one of your friends’ idea of life in the US was that it was like a 24×7 MTV grind. Interestingly, Rahul thinks the same way… 
Great post! Hilarious! ROFLMAO!!
Being a Masters Student myself, I can understand Rahul’s feelings!! well, thats exactly the same case in my univ also with all the Desis!! But dunno if anybody has tried callied 1-900-HOTTIES!! 
Classic. Just too good.
for a while i was amused…jus thot’ ’twas somethin like ‘five point someone’. Kudos !
could u fix the desibaba link PLEASE !!!!
it’s consistently giving some kind of “404″ error.
@ALL: Thank you for your words of appreciation. This story is a work of imagination and is not based on personal experience. As to Desibaba will repost it. It is truly weird whats happened to that post. On some machines, IE does not display it (404)—-on some machines it shows fine in IE. On the machines IE didnt display it, Firefox did fine.
“… when it comes to hitting on chicks in bars, it does matter if you are brown.”
Any theories on why this is? Is it really a racial thing or is the average desi simply ignorant about the social skills needed to be a successful ‘player’
I have recently started visiting this blog and have tried to read previous postings as well, must have missed this particular one. Great one here!!!! Save me some work, separately tag all those old great ones.
“Zimply zuperb”…this is the BEST depiction of the phenomenon of K.L.P.D that I ever read.Waiting eagerly for the repost of “Death of Desibaba”.
Amazing stuff. Wonderful
BTW, death of desibaba does not work too.
Hilarious dude.
You should be writing professionally.
I think Ive been missing out- I stumbled onto your blog just today. Well, now I have you bookmarked.
Keep writing!
MAB
HKB is a kamini!
Dear Gb,
Please do something about the Desibaba Post. Missing those ‘Silk Smitha’ thing. Its not there in google cache too anywhere.
dude.. u rock!!
my god , made my day ,
i think its one of the best reads i ever came across lolz
hey that was really coooooool one
me still thinking abt it and giggling 
tooo good !! hilarious !!! xcellent narrative !!!
amazin!!!
supa hialrious!
That was really good.
Sorry, I can’t think of any other adjectives.
Hey,
Spitting it out to Anila and Sowmya would have been bad… spilling the beans onto their mom was such a neat twist into the story…:D Not to mention the extension fone… Gud story…:)
This is truely funny..:):)…good lord..i cdnt stop laughin…nice one!!:)
Wow… That was something.
Super narrative… I had a ball reading it.
Hah! Green Chillies, i could feel Rahul’s pain, all the way here in Delhi.
1st post i read - i’m bookmarking your blog.
PS. Entry sure looks like 1st hand experience
hi deepa how are you?
from where are you?
i am from baroda
hi priyanka
how are you?
I LIKED THIS STORY, ALSO THE IMAGINATION. IS IT TRUE
Greatong,
This is good shit. Seriously. A real classic.
OH my gawd! supero! after a really long time, a desi spoof online made me laugh! too much!!!
=))
Wonderful stuff. have read it many times since yesterday.
hey i need girls r ladies for phone sex or wild sex
Great bong get a life
this is funny and quite unbelievable.. I am sure its FICTION !
This one was really hilarious….laugh riot…….hehehehehe
Classic laugh-riot, KLPD, spoof and what not! Great Gb, great. I almost fell-off from my chair.
Legendary. Can gujju shame-fests get any better?
dude,
you have to start a magazine. Like the old Mad comics. Or become a writer for movies like Van Wilder etc. I want to start a magazine with you. I am serious. We will distribute it all over the world..starting with US,UK and India. I am making you an offer..start this with me and we can be equal partners. mail me.
the great bong lives up to his name yet again……cheers!!
In reponse to AndyS (and just in case the others, including the writer and readers, commentors are wondering as well) I would say, race plays a part in some cases. It is not racist, though. It is simply preference. Think about it, why was Rahul hitting on, or thinking of hitting on, blonde white chicks? Did he consider Latin women, did he consider African-American women? He went for the fair skin. Was that racist? And amongst the white women he went for the blondes. I don’t know how to classify that. (Is there a hair color discrimination statute?)
But to return to the point, yes, race plays a part, but its more in terms of preference than anything else. I would much rather attribute it to the social skills. I would have to say, and this is rather unfortunate, that Indian guys/girls just don’t know how to be friends with others, not even other Indian guys/girls. There is always a sense of distrust, and there is always a sense of trade (give something, get something) and even unfair trade (give little, get as much possible).
All of you Rahuls/Sumans/Amits out there, look inside, you know this to be true. Intimacy follows friendship. And this is true in so many different levels. Just an observation.
–Original Post—
“… when it comes to hitting on chicks in bars, it does matter if you are brown.”
Any theories on why this is? Is it really a racial thing or is the average desi simply ignorant about the social skills needed to be a successful ‘player’
–AndyS
That was hilarious dude!! Nice work!
@Arnab
All through this post I see strange characters, e.g., “hotâ€instead of hot. I think when you make some characters bold or italics these strange things happen. Well that might be some compatibility problem with my PC also, but please check this page again.
Best regards
Awesome one…….
I almost fell off my chair laughing when i read it through!!!
I must say, this is one hell of a story, i liked it more than any of those Chetan-Bhagat stories.
Too great ….you are godly wen it comes to narration
Haha…..!! Have you considered publishing a short story book…!!! You are an awesome writer…!! Being from Baroda…I would really like to meet this Cockila Aunty……lol…!!
you are great writer …………tell me some tips for my blog
http://www.kasheer.co.cc
Innovative Post…!!
Awesome plotting !! Good job Arnab
Well..Better luc next tym Rahul!!