Goodness Gracious Me, Series One

Guru:
Many people in the west think that in my country (India), because of our religions, because of our history, because of I don't know what, somehow we are more in tune with our spirituality, more at one with the forces of Nature. Well, we are! So well done, all those people who said that!

Guru:
Hello. I'd like to talk to you about Krishna.

Woman on doorstep:
Oh yes?

Guru:
Have you ever thought of becoming a Hindu?

Woman:
Well, actually, it's something I've always wanted to do.

Guru:
Well, you can't! Sorry. Have a nice day.

First Guru:
And thus it was Shiva, in the heart of the demon's lair, with his celestial weapons.

Second Guru:
With due respect, you are wrong. It was Narasimha, incarnation of Vishnu, in the palace of the evil Rakshas, with his bare hands!

Third Guru:
No. It was Professor Plum, in the library, with the candlestick! I win! Go on, my son!

St John:
Been following the cricket?

Dennis:
Oh, shocking! We haven't been playing too well at all.

St John:
Well, you know, the cricketing world looks upon us as a developing nation.

Dennis:
Of course they do. But the Indians have been playing very well.

Charlotte:
So, Vanessa, I hear you're something of a wiz in the kitchen. Is that one of your famous curries I smell cooking?

Vanessa:
No, it's roast lamb, roast potatoes, roast vegetables and roast gravy, actually!

Dennis:
Oh tuhadi rab day vastay! Aah ki hoya?

Vanessa:
I beg your pardon?

Dennis:
Oh, my God.

Charlotte:
I believe that mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun. And after all, my husband is an Englishman.

Vanessa:
Which must make you the mad...

St John:
[interrupts] Another jug of Pimm's, darling?

Father:
You see, you have these English people sitting on the veranda's of their bungalow's. looking at the jungle, using their shampoo. And they talk about Western Civilisation! Rubbish!

Son:
(sighs with despair) Well, I don't think you can discount the whole of Western Civilisation just because they borrowed the word shampoo.

Father:
Ah, not just shampoo. Also conditioner.

Father:
What do you know? You think all we had in India was partition? Not true; we also had side-partition…

Son:
Look, will you just shut up about India! You're always banging on about how everything comes from India, it's all bullshit!

Father:
What?!

Son:
I said bull-shit!

Father:
Also Indian.

Father:
The fellow in this film, Kina Modha

Son:
(nonchalently) Clark Gable

Father:
Indian.

Father:
You know, like he said in that Richard the Third,'Now is the winter of our dicontent' (winter pronounced vinter). V-inter. See. Like Indian's pronounce. V.

Son:
Don't tell me Shakespeare was Indian!

Father:
Is the Pope Punjabi?

It's like being re-released in a new format.

Ah, I know where you're coming from. Say I'm, like, a 12" jungle track, right, on fire, right, spinning on the eternal wheels of steel…

Yeah, yeah. Then the gods, right, they check your mix, and if they find it holy and MASSIVE, right, they re-release you as the…

Both:
CD! Woah!

What happens if they don't like jungle, man?

Man, then you come back as Peter André tape in a car boot sale in Forest Gate!

Malkit:
This isn't about work, is it? This is about the colour of my skin! You're picking on me 'cos I'm Asian, you racist bastard! I bet you're not ringing up all your white employees and hurling racial abuse at them, are you?!

Boss:
This is the third time this week, Malkit. I can't let you keep doing this!

Malkit:
Ooh, and what are you gonna do? Sack me? You'd love that, wouldn't you. You'd love to throw me on the scrapheap, another disillusioned ethnic youth, no job, no hope, marginalised by white society and forced to rot in urban squalor. Is that what you want? 'Cos that's what'll happen! Eh?

Boss:
Alright, Malkit. I'm sorry. Take the rest of today off.

Malkit:
Good. Thanks. And can I borrow the car, please, Dad?

Sanjeev:
First up we'll have ten…no twelve BREAD ROLLS. And bring some of that fancy stuff…ah, butter, yeah!

Sanjeev:
Where are those little plastic stirrers we used to have?

Oscar:
You're standing on them, big guy.

Sanjeev:
You mean they're under my feet.

Oscar:
No. We made your legs out of them.

Son:
I'm gay, OK?

Simon:
And so am I.

Father:
What, BOTH of you?!

Mother:
Oh, my God! My son is a lesbian!

Father:
You go to your room, and don't come back until you're not of the gay!

Son:
I thought you'd be pleased to see me happy through spirituality, unlike most young men of my generation, who find happiness through pornography and drugs…which I'd be tempted to use had we not been related to every pharmacist and newsagent from here to Nuremberg!

Woman:
My husband's after me!

Jacinta:
Yes, I might have guessed. Is he stifling you with his phallocentric, patriarchal hate crimes?

Woman:
No, he chased me out of the house with a big knife! Now, come on! He's coming this way!

Jacinta:
OK, just pull up a bean bag and we'll take a few details.

Woman:
But he'll be here any second!

Jacinta:
[smiling broadly] Hmm, and in Indian time that's about half an hour, isn't it, sister?