Where in the world is D-Man?

Just a few days ago I was passing by the Dhiraagu shop on Majeedhee Magu when I saw a really f*cked-up version of the “Superman Returns” poster pasted on the window of the shop. When I say f*ucked up I really do mean f*ucked up! Asterisk and all! The unfortunate movie poster, as most people are now no doubt aware, had been viciously attacked, apparently by a possessed 4-year-old armed with Photoshop, and in the resulting chaos had turned the movie poster into an advertisement for a new Dhiraagu dis-service, or something.

I doubt even Superman’s mom would have recognized the Dhiraaguized version as he was now wearing a bloody red suit with a D symbol placed slightly off-kilter across his chest. And to top it off, he was wearing a black mask that covered his bloodshot eyes. Fucking D-Man on drugs, I wondered? Who’d have thunk? I chuckled, and even chortled, at the audacity of it all and wondered what the halfwit graphic designers at Wataniya and ROL would come up with in response. Probably Batman or Spiderman rip-offs, the lazy ass-faced bastards.

However, I really can’t say I was surprised; after all this wasn’t the first time advertising concepts and even whole advertisements in some cases had been ‘borrowed’, to put it gently, by Maldivian companies and advertising firms in their bid to be creative and original. But this was a first right? None of the really big advertisers in Male’ had ever been ‘inspired by’ or used such a well-known Hollywood movie poster to rip right? Well, I can’t bloody well remember any, in any case. It was like they had finally said to themselves “oh fuck that! We’ve fucking had it up to here with trying to pass off stolen ideas as our own. Just take a fucking movie poster and put our logo over all over it. Even the poster of that fag Yooppe on that stinking turd of a movie Yoosuf would do right now. These local cunts can’t really be smart enough to figure it out right?” Fucking brilliant, ain’t it?

Today, as I strolled past the same Dhiraagu shop on Majeedhee Magu, guess what huge poster was conspicuously missing from the shop window? I wonder if they took down the poster at the Dhiraagu shop near the Islamic Centre too. I should check. Wonder what the fuck happened?

Meanwhile, in a small room inside one of Dhiraagu’s office buildings, heads were rolling.

Selective Stereotyping

Isn’t it funny how a lot of Maldivians are very selective about stereotyping and hating the people from our neighboring countries? The following anecdote is a classic example:

A friend and I was walking down Majeedhee Magu when we saw a group of women, most likely Indians but I really don’t know, coming towards us on the same side of the pavement.

“Oh shit!” said my friend. “Hold your breath. Indians stink.”

“What? All Indians?” I said, automatically.

“Yes,” she says. “Ebedybun dows dad.”

“I didn’t, not really,” I said. “You really are xenophobe, you know.”

“Ab dot!” she said indignantly, as we passed the group of Indians by. “It’s just that they never take a shower or use deodorant.”

“You said the same about Sri Lankans,”

“Yeah, the ‘orin’ stink even worse!” said my friend, connoisseur of inter-regional aromas.

“See,” I said. “I find it strange that you consider all Indians and Sri Lankans to be mobile health hazards and yet you keep running off to the airport every time one of the Bollywood movie stars or TV stars come to Maldives. I think I would have to add hypocrite to your growing list of vices.”

“Oh that’s entirely different!” she says. “It’s Soojal. He doesn’t stink.”

“Forgive me if I disagree with you on that point as far as acting is concerned. But the fact remains he is Indian and as far as your personal universe is concerned he fits the bill of being a stinker.”

“He’s not an… Indian, really,” she says after a moments deliberation. “When I say Indians I am referring to those Indians you generally find in Maldives working in houses and those ‘kuni ukaa meehun’.

“And these… other… Indians, the ones you adore on TV and movie screens, they are an entirely different breed despite being the same nationality?” I venture.

“Exactly! So Shah Rukh Khan, Salman, John and the others aren’t really real Indians, you know what I am saying?”

“You’re saying that a real Indian will stink to the high heavens?”

“More or less… you understand.”

“Not really. I understand a lot more about you, though. And that’s an insight enough” I said.