Pukka Sahib

Last night I had my first taste of Sugar Rush. I had expected it to tell the story of a teen and her growing pains-a shade more dramatic than Adrian Mole's diaries. Then the credits rolled and the visual accompanying them showed two young girls kissing. Now I am not too much of a prude but it's not exactly comfortable to watch this stuff in the company of the dad (the parents are visiting) . But must not judge serial by its credit footage. So I gritted my teeth and stuck it out--for another 30 seconds. During that period, the serial opened with visuals of a girl in bed masturbating under the quilt with an electrical toothbrush. And then her dad walks in and tells her to stop before she goes blind. Only, he's referring to her pretending to read in dim light. And then the camera pans to the madly whirring head of the toothbrush. So much for Sugar Rush!

I then surfed the 40-odd channels before pausing at one playing "Snobs". This turned out to be a programme on what the real upmarket British snob will wear, own and display. Now it's a truth universally acknowledged that nobody does snob half as well as the British upper classes. So it was quite amusing to see a bengali dandy, Robin Dutt, featured extensively. The man had a wardrobe of historically significant colourful coats, jackets, floral cravats, et al, only drank Moet and confessed to feeling sorry for those obssessed with fashion and trends.

Then there was the grand dame of social etiquette holding forth on how to eat a banana (slice off the top and bottom ends, make a long slit down the centre, peel away the skin, cut into bits and, if you're still hungry, eat). Another chap on accents (on which the British caste system is built), and yet another on what not to have in your garden (gnomes, hanging baskets and colourful flowers are a no-no).

And everybody ran down everybody else. So if plump miss social climber said you must match your drink to your dress eg pina colada to a little black number, the grand dame would pronounce any such venture, tasteless. One should only drink colourless drinks--gin with a hint of vermouth, martinis stirred but never shaken, etc. Then there was the man who saw no reason to hang anything on his walls and systematically trashed all clutter. Only to meet his match in the very same grand dame who declared that only people with bare minds can have bare walls!

Strangely enough, the one person who emerged largely unscathed, was amaar sonaar bangali baboo with his charming eccentricity. Now why don't I find it surprising that it took a Bengali to be more Pukka than the Sahibs!