Snortdom I Provide

Go ahead, relate ;)

Today, I was about to propose. I got on my knee in front of my girlfriend and opened the box. My friend thought it would be funny to replace the ring with a condom. FML

Today, I texted my Dad to tell him I'm staying at my boyfriend's house and won't be home. Since I had predictive text on, my phone didn't quite get the word 'home' - the message I sent said, 'I'm staying at Will's, I'll not be good tonight.' FML

Today, I was awakened from a peaceful sleep by my crazy ex-girlfriend, who apparently copied my key before our break up three months ago. She was on top of me, stroking my beard, whispering: “He looks like Jesus.” FML

Today, I was standing in line at a coffee shop and I noticed that there was a bug on the guys face in front of me. Trying to be nice I lightly smacked it off. His reaction was to punch me in the face. Repeatedly. FML

Today, when my boyfriend and I were becoming intimate, his cat decides to jump onto the bed and lie right in between us. He then informs me that he wanted to stop to "preserve his cat's innocence." FML

Today, I was standing outside a store about to flirt with this guy when my mother drove up and shouted,"Hurry up, I have diarrhoea!" FML

Today, I looked at my house in Google Street View for the first time and noticed an unfamiliar vehicle in the driveway. When I asked my wife about it, she admitted to have an ongoing affair. Apparently the entire world knew my wife was having an affair before I did. FML

Today, I took my first day off in 3 weeks just so I can sleep in. The office secretary woke me up at 7.12 am with a page wishing me a nice day off. FML

Today, my sister and I got into a fight. I came home to find everything in my room covered in ketchup. FML

-

Related post of interest - Entertainment Pimp. Of Sorts.

Why Does This Feel Like A Hint?

Larger view ke vaaste click on image or here.

Do revert. :|

Euphoria!

:) yeh kya tha?

Did, but why suddenly? You under the notion that I don't often enough?

And why should I? *insert update* Maybe I should.

:) Why am I doing that again??

I needed that *hug* :)

:) & :) & :) & :) & :) So when do we see you?

Aww be awesomely random just like that!!

I just did! :-) Now tell me why I did!

In response to :

Smile. Just like that :)

20-odd characters texted to 20-odd randomly picked friends on a giddy Thursday evening. It was one of those things you do just because. You know, for the random happiness quotient involved, reason be damned. And yippee, in came a solid flurry of responses!

You should try this.

So go ahead, give out random smiles, hug the ones you care about without waiting for a 'specific, valid reason' to come by, tell people you love them, appreciate them, spend time together, grin at all the things you want to, laugh out loud anytime it seems like a good idea to, do something nice simply because you can, do things you love simply because you can! Let the giddiness out, be a kid when you want to be, get that euphoria flowing!!

PS - Some aww/giggle-inducing replies have been left out, make up your own ;)

JB On Ho Gaya!

I admire and look up to and envy people who know what they want.

* JB = Jealousy Button. Term - courtesy Rachna.

The Virtues That Aren't

In some sort of continuation...

Needing -or atleast wanting- to be around people who 'match up to my standards'? It's true. I call them people with whom I share a certain wavelength, have the same intellectual frequency, but what the heck, call 'em what you will.

I just don't see why I should subject myself to people that I suspect I will develop contempt or pity for beyond a certain level of interaction. They don't deserve either simply because they happen to think and function differently. They probably think I'm too logical and scientific for my own good. Yes, I've been told that. *Logical and scientific? Amusement to the rescue!* Hell, I don't deserve to be stuck with mediocrity simply because that's how most people are!

This is not a claim to superiority. Anything but. There are plenty in the world who are more intelligent, more competent than I and I can live with that. But just like them, I would like to surround myself with people at the roughly same level of thought and reason, if not higher. I want a certain degree of competence, I want a certain degree of intelligence, I want a certain degree of sense. Sue me.

This is not to say that people I don't see as freq-mates are inferior in any way, they're just not like me. Just as they would choose not to associate with me beyond a point, I choose not to associate with them beyond a point. I bore them, they bore me.

Being the polar opposite of judgemental is a virtue. There is no antonym for the word because there's too much ambiguity around what the term judgemental itself should mean. Are we discussing (and passing judgement on :P) someone who passed judgement -do bear in mind that judgement can be positive or negative- on another's conduct or someone who passed a negative judgement? The former would be the literal meaning, but ho!

Again, expecting something specific is anti-virtue. Virtue? To embrace all that comes your way, simply because it's there. Are you fucking kidding me?

General acceptance is one thing - this is also how people are. Individual acceptance another - this is what XYZ is like and I am open to being with XYZ/putting up with XYZ . That sounds like tolerance, which in turn sounds derogatory - none of this is meant to be. But wholehearted acceptance that reads "XYZ is someone I admire/look up to, genuinely like and want to be with!" is another ball game altogether. 

Why must we force ourselves into believing we are all the same?

Why can't we be honest about this?

What The Judges Really Meant

November 22 to November 29. 8 days in the company of an assortment of people. Some that I just knew will be friends for the next three years of the course and beyond, some that I never got around to interacting with before, some that I had instinctively marked as people I ain't gonna get up close and chatty with and then some that I never knew existed. Equations and opinions were formed, newly invalidated equations and opinions changed and like the previous post made evident, albeit dramatically, there were revelations galore. 

One of those revelations was part of this game we -a dozen batchmates, some from each of the first three categories I mentioned above- played to kill time in the middle of the night. Mention positives and negatives, atleast one of each, about everyone present. Bitch, but to their faces. Get downright nasty, but be nice. What got the game started is of no relevance now. Cutting straight to the revelation - I'm perceived as judgemental since I tend to categorize people as per their apparent intelligence. Also, I give off an air of assumed superiority when I'm around people who I think don't match up to my standards.

As for how far this is true - yep, how much basic intellect shows through in casual conversations matters to me. I have nothing against people who come across as slow or are, in the words of those who gave the verdict, "not upto my level". I'm as friendly with them as with the others, but I sure do have an opinion about how much sense they're capable of dishing out.

The opinion is open to change, of course it is, but I'm not waiting around for something to happen before I form one. The person himself is enough of an event.

How far the tag of 'judgemental' is accurate, I can't tell. What's laughable is that the entire game was based on how judgemental we are. Perceptive, if the word makes you happy. Those two hours were full of variations of "I don't really know you well.. never spoken na somehow.. atleast until tonight.. but I think negatives mein, you're like this---". Until tonight? Admission and distribution of judgement, check.

Funny thing is, when I spoke to the same friends later about this forming opinions and categorizing business, it turned out that they all had an opinion -similar or not- about the same person but never "thought of it". So because I think it out consciously and am vocal about it, I'm judgemental. As of now, lets just say I'm lost to the concept of anyone being judgemental. 

Funnier still, the general consensus about me went this way - Positives? Intelligence. Negative? Too intelligent and looks for the same around her. Like wait, what?!

Being human, I'd like to make it known that my positives and negatives both included things other than to do with my brain. We'll discuss them over a cup of coffee sometime.

How far these opinions of me were actually thought out by everyone present, I do not know. It could have been a personal opinion for each one of them. It could be that some went with the opinion another announced simply because it was an easier alternative to thinking. It doesn't matter.

-

It isn't like opinions of everyone out there matter. What I'm like -the good and the bad- is what I'm like, regardless of what they think I'm like, so that's cool. Again, not even half of them are friends I'm close to, so they haven't had much of a chance to give out an informed opinion, good or bad. It was the overall interpretation of the trait of being judgemental that got to me. And since I don't see what's wrong with it, it got to me some more.

All Must Be Revealed!

More than anything else, the last 3 weeks have been full of revelations. With friends and classmates as well as the unavoidable friends-or-what candidate of the month and those involved. And what amazes me is that beyond a point, I don't feel a thing about the situation or the people concerned. Except maybe amusement.

Logically dekho toh I should be analysing and introspecting until I reach the pot of gold that's supposed to be the Answer, but right now the rainbow seems so vague that I can't trace it right. And somehow, I'm not too concerned about getting waylaid by chance puffs of clouds and gusts of wind. It borders on fun, actually.

Instead, I'm indifferent. Chirpy one minute, sober the next, but always able to see things objectively. A little too objectively. I have no personal opinion on these issues, only an objective one. Somehow, I've managed to numb myself to all of it. And I don't know how. 

I remember talking to a friend about the oh-so-detached, "I feel numb" theory months ago and being mocked incessantly so I'm expecting more of the same. But I simply do not feel like I'm affected in any way. Comfortably Numb, anyone? :|

So I don't discuss it with anyone. Heh, no one person know about more than one 'issue' at hand and that's how I intend to keep it. That logic says a breakdown will follow is hardly of significance right now. Lets just assume I'll get to that bridge, catch sight of that rainbow again and reach The Pot. Simple.

Craziest bit is that I want to write about it all. I expect it will help. I want to know how people manage to bare all. Everytime I do, I fuck up things so bad it's safer not to. So basically, I'm looking for catharsis where I don't want it. Revelation indeed.

PS- This post was of a more personal nature than any before, I realise that. Consider this a one off, ain't gonna happen. Also, I may have gone overboard with my skyscape analogy but hey, deal with it.

Why I Miss Orkut.

CASE I

"woww....so sweeeet profile....oopss ur wondering that who is this?welll u dont know mee & aslo i,i just came & saw ur profile,mere maaan ne kaha ki tumeh ek msg karu baaaas meine kiya,isake alawa kuch nahi,i swear...i know this is bad manners for that i m heartlyy soorrryyy...anywasys telll mekaise ho?hows mummy papa & all?tumhe freee time to nahi milta hoga that i know,fir bhi agar time mile to ek msg jarur karna...reat all is fine here,chalo im have to go now,give my regards to mummmy papa,byeee shwetaaaaaaa.."

He is frendly (sic), reads fictions (sic), sections pertaining to movies and music consist of the ultimate, DDLJ. 'Very right-conservative' political views, prefers 'minimal fashion'. What he probably thought 'right' and 'minimal' mean on here is up for discussion. The sicness.

Ah man. Rest all is fine there, so reassuring. I'm off to give mummy papa the dude's regards.

CASE II

"HI !!!

TO YOU 

BY SAM"

To Sir, With Love. Need I say more?

CASE III

hi shweta, i m viral from vashi, i like u r profile and interested to know u further if u like my profile accept me and hope to see you sooner online or something... take care..

Ahha! What 'something' are we talking about, me love?

CASE IV

kehne ki ho dil main koi baath mujhse kaho koi pal ho din ho ya ho raath mujhse kaho koi mushkil koi pareshani aaye tumhe lage kuch teek halaath mujhse kaho koi ho tammanna ya ho koi aarzoo rehna kabhi na bekhraar MAIN HOOO NAAAAAAAAA ---- HIIII 2 EVERY LETS WISH SHAHRUKH A VERY HAPPY N PROPEROUS HAPPYY BIRTHDAY

Aise integrated community efforts aur kahaan?

CASE V

In response to a "Who the hell are you?" scrap, which was sent in response to a "make friendship with me gul" scrap, I get -

i m a boy studing in tenth staying in vashi anything else

C'mon now, you don't really need me to put in a concluding wall of text for this post... :D

Wake Up!

But only to smell the roses. Make that cinnamon for those of you with refined tastes.

That my father thought it was a waste of time didn’t matter. That he would’ve preferred a Govinda flick with double entendres that he thought only he could comprehend is a different, laughable matter altogether. That my mother is the coolest thing ever and liked it too says volumes about her awesomeness. That my sister missed catching a different “cute guy” on the screen every other minute was irrelevant. Yeah, she’s in that phase… no dope on me, nope.

Getting back to the point, I loved the movie! And that is why you will get a bit by bit review that hopefully, will NOT include the story, dialogues and picturisation. Yep, I’m bullshitting you.

Since it’s a review, it will obviously include MY opinions, my sentiments, my POV. So don’t go looking for generalizations and politically correct “IMO”s. You want a view, you shell out 150 + travel charges. Simple as that. And now that that’s clear... :P

Since beating around the bush to tell you it’s a review post took three whole paragraphs, I’ll do what I can to keep the actual review short. Sum it up for you in 7 words –

Light – No pakaoing you with stooopid jackassery or “Ma ki mamta” bhashans. For a change, no one gets married, shot at or conks off.

Fast – Props to the director and screenplay chappies. Also the scriptwriter. Normal, believable, everyday stuff yet stuff I aww-ed over just the same.

Real – Relatable. From the occasional brat to the kid out to prove out a point, it was all stuff I could relate to. Made me happy, made me watch, made me happy. 

Voltage – For me, personally *wink*, it was one of those charge-you-up-and-make-you-wanna-DO-something! films. I’m not talking “inspiring” like Gandhi-Lincoln type ka inspiring. Not the idealist activism sorta charge either, though I’m sure it could manage that… yeah I’m loyal man, back ‘em to the hilt. Like Taare Zameen Par was the creative + idealist DO something, Rang De Basanti was more idealistic... the creative DO something kicked in only on seeing the graffiti. Par atleast today, it was the sort of voltage that reminded me of all the chota mota projects I had in mind for my Dad’s perennially on-loan camera, my wall-and-door décor, pending articles, gifts et al. I am erupting with ideas! Most likely the sort I’ll forget by 8 am, but fuck it, someone has to hand me a pencil.

Happy – Yeah, good ol’ Bollywood. Much as it may differ from a typical Bollywood masala flick, fact remains happy endings have got to happen. They were made for the emosunal janta of India, dammit! So yeah, you’re 10 minutes into the movie and you already know he’ll reunite with his family, get together with his new pal, get the job of his dreams, ya da ya da ya da. Cool. Now stuff it and predict outfit colours scenewise and in silence. 

Ooh yeah, I’m mean in the middle of the night…

One last thing, the apartment! All light, fresh, happy looking and totally inhabitable - you could believe the characters were the ones who put it all together. Doesn't get better than that. What bets the crew and all worked on it too? 

Another last thing, don’t EVER let pesky li’l pests stop you from sitting through the title track / spesal song/ bloopers they show as the credits roll. People don’t seem to understand that’s part of the screening time they’ve paid up for… so you stay back. Enjoy it! Aur kuch nahi toh usher ko zyaada time AC ka fayda hoga…

So yeah, my take - Go Watch. I say you wont miss the popcorn. =)

Us, Them & The Rest

The simple, sadahran group. Not simpletons, mind you. Everyone's capable of being bitchy, that's only human, so we're not talking dudh ke dhule. Not airheads either. Not even simple when I speak of how they dress. They have their share of fashionistas walking in looking like Africa, Iceland and China on different days of the week. Something I find difficult to relate to, but okay. 

The manifestation of the suburban's definition of "a typical bunch of townies". Which again makes things difficult for me to comprehend. They just happen to live elsewhere. Most of them don't even hail from "town"! Someone hoping to get rid of this discussion would probably say they belong to a different "culture". That must be it. I dunno.

-

A class of 60. Rough segregation in the first 3 weeks. Come midterm, most can be found sticking to their "groups" like glue, tailing them to the canteen, the multiplex and the loo. More about the loo groups in another post :| New entrants trickle in, take the total to 65. The modus operandi remains the same, only smoother and quicker.

So what happens when you are, for all intents and purposes, through with the first sem? By which time every kid has handed in a multitude of projects, eaten in all the cafes and eateries around, collectively bitched about certain someones. Well, by then, everyone knows exactly who they're gonna sit with, eat with, work with, hang out with, and not to forget, bitch with. Fair enough, maybe, but it bothers me.

Now I'm not a proponent of the we-are-one-class-and-we-move-together philosophy. That's meant for loo groups. It's not even like I'm left without a bunch of people to be with and hence resent the grouping and fragmentation. But still...

When its chocolate day, some choose to hand out multiples within their groups, while others choose to include people they don't particularly like but because they've decided to be objective they dump packs of Munch on classmates they think are good looking. 

When its a birthday being celebrated, one group goes all out as they party, head down the wine and fine dine route. They're "crazy". The other group chooses to keep it simple (there's that word again!) but manage to have just as much fun, if not more. They haunt Chowpatty and its chatais for a good few hours; go ga ga over the 'mini giant wheel' and Columbus' boat; gobble up cheesy pizzas and neon blue butterscotch golas; share bottles of soap bubbles with kids whose first reaction to new people is to beg.

I ain't out to judge or comment. Not my place to. Can hardly be when I'm not a part of either group with blinkers on tight, other possibilities be damned! I like people from both groups well enough. Guess I'll continue to watch, find it amusing and document. Suits me fine.

Try A Mush Pack Today

• I've been writing poems late at night and hiding them from my family and friends because I was embarrassed. Today I showed some to my mom who was an english major and editor. I have never seen my mother cry because she was so proud of me. I am now going to college and majoring in English too. MLIG

• Today my 22 year old brother hugged me. He's autistic, that's the first time he's ever hugged me in all of my 14 years on earth. MLIG

• Tomorrow I leave for college. Tonight when I said goodnight and goodbye to my sisters, my eight year old sis handed me a letter that said: "Even though we have a lot of fights, I still love you." I will miss her (and all my family) so much. They make my life G.

• Today, I skipped going to my boyfriend's cottage with a bunch of people to go to my aunt's 50th birthday party. She cried because she was so happy I was there. It was so worth it. MLIG

• I am sitting in my very last class at an Ivy League University. Thanks to the miracle of financial aid, I will be the first member of my family to graduate from college. I did it! MyLifeIsG!!!!!!!!!

• Two years ago, I lost my entire left leg in a car accident. While I was in hospital I wrote a list of everything I thought an amputation would stop me doing. Today, I am over halfway through completing everything on that list. Tomorrow, I start surfing lessons. MLIG

• Today, I paid for a soldier's lunch, who just returned from Iraq. She said, "You didn't have to do that" and I said, "Neither did you." She started crying, and so did I. MLIG.

• Today is my 17th birthday. As I went to blow out the candles, I realized that I couldn't think of anything to wish for. I have everything I've ever wanted. I give my wish to you. MLIG

• Today was the day I was going to kill myself. My best friends knew about this and whilst I was heading to the bridge they all texted me; saying how much they loved me and if I jump, they jump. I did a u-turn and went to all their houses and watched tears stream down each of their faces in pure joy. They saved my life. I love them with all my heart. MLIG :]

I'm in a sappy mood, so excuse me if the mush was too much for you to bear. 

Chanced upon a site called www.mylifeisg.com  this afternoon. That's My Life Is Great. Read awhile. Conclusion? Even as FML was entertaining and makes for solid resounding laughs, it's MLIG that really made my day.

It's amazing how we can smile for another. Sad how we so often choose not to.

Not trying to be preachy, but hey, look up someone who's happy the next time you feel down! =)

Anything You Want, Girl.

How how HOW do people write up articles that are wanted, even adopted?

I'm expected to hand in a few articles - I definitely want to - I sat with a superior (er, only in jest, world... then again, maybe not) to 'brainstorm', threw up a few ideas and then... forgot. I forgot what I came up with. And what I recall isn't working out :| 

Am I expected to give in 250 words of SmartArseShweta? Funny Gal variant? That's beyond me. I can turn in one line a week, upper limit.

Any serious requests, I'll do my best, slog my butt off for them, I promise. Any specifics, I can phir bhi try. "Write about whatever"? NOOO!!

My Mother Is On Facebook.

Silence. The deafening variety.

She's on Facebook, she's on my list on friends, she's everywhere!

Now, don't get me wrong. I love my mother to bits and would live my life for her. I have this theory that living your life for someone/something must be infinitely tougher than giving it up for that particular whoever/whatever, but that's for another time, another post.

And she didn't track me down, sneak up on me, put on a "yo, imma hot dude, add me yu sexii chica!" disguise (that would never -wont ever- work, don't get funny ideas anyone...) and then do an India TV "parda faash!" gig at dinner one night. Au contraire, I'm the one who got her off VSNL and introduced her to Gmail and Facebook and my humble blog - I'm your modern-day saintly proponent of clicks and codes. I'm glad she's open minded and eager to learn the ropes on here, to see how these work best for her. I'm glad that it has given her an opportunity to reconnect with classmates, neighbours and friends from the years past. I'm glad she's being progressive about it and not giving me some "too old, too busy, and who cares anyway" concoction. 

I'm glad, glad, GLAD. Proud. I truly am. Come to think of it, I probably sound like a proud mum. Anyway, I think she's wayy cool.

But okay, picture this. Fictional situations all (so Ma, don't freak out.. nevertheless, CPR on hold guys!). Only for the sake of point making, ye get? So, for whatever reason, you upload on Facebook some pics of you and a bunch of friends downing criss-cross drinks or trying out some random grassy thing or in general playing the stupid/dangerous/perverted fool. Surprise surprise, your mom gains access to them! Oh and in case it hasn't crossed your mind yet, you're underage. HOW WILL YOU FEEL? I dunno know how you'll feel but boss, those pics will self destruct. Poof! And if that doesn't happen in time, haha, someone's gonna get hurt real bad tonight... 

Milder version of the same - you're flirting with whoever, and I'm talking serious flirting. The responses make you happy in the heart and mushy in the mind. And out of nowhere, Momma puts in an appearance. Potential poof situation. Not ideal, see? That's what I'm getting at. Virtual privacy ka popat.

Then again, this works both ways. Anytime she decides to crib about me, bitch or rant, I'll get those flashy red notifications. She decides to blog-rant, I can read. Random conversations with friends, I get updates, the inside scoop. 

We could go in for a cordial understanding that the other's profile is not to be looked at, updates to be ignored, but who am I kidding? We're sneaky pigs in that regard - do pardon the language, bas grasp the implication. And it'd get too boring, too soon. Guess we'll let things remain.

I'll just have to remember to flirt in private ;)

** This also holds good for college profs. Detected one on Facebook the other day. This might just turn into a series of "Who's On Facebook?" posts. :|

Paper For Seats?

WHAAAT is this thing females have about leaving the toilet seat down? :X 

A little tap works wonders. One word. Gravity. When you lift it up you're fighting gravity. Tap and the thing will whoosh-whack-bump its way down.  Easy peasy, innit?

I don't know where this is coming from. Perhaps I'm just turning into a reverse feminist, if that makes any sense. But boss, when something bothers you all day long, you bloody well hammer keyboards about it.  Life's a series of buttons being pushed anyway. 

And anyway, why does the toilet seat in particular get to decide a guy's standing on Le Scale de Chivalrie? Toilet paper would be a better option, no? Something like this -

Roll and guy dono laapata? Nevermind... that's why the women's mags advise against monogrammed ones anyway. Unless they're Gucci dahlings! Chanel? Pooh, you're better off without them.

Roll of toilet paper still to be seen? He isn't a petty thief. Then again, maybe it's just the CCTV thrill/scare you gave him earlier.

Roll seen in place? He cares.

Ripped but diagonally? Oh just them big, clumsy fingers...

Razor sharp, horizontal line? Keeper! 

Unused? Get the noose ready, he's putting your needs before everything else! Alternatively, he could be slid off the list clearing the bottom margin some. The trick is to decide on either funda and stick with it. 

See, that's all there is to it. 

Oh and that line about life being a series of buttons being pushed was profound. And original. You just don't know kitna... :P

Untitled. Suspense much?

It is sad when you can almost see your life following a book/movie ka storyline, eh? Matlab, scene by scene, thought by thought.. sad hai yaar. Yes, I've said that already. Get an idea of how sad that it? :| Ha yes, different lives-different stories, circumstances and all.. but still.  

On a nava note, I've realised that asking for a mixed tub of popcorn - a tub of mixed popcorn- is a bad idea.. they mix in everything except what you asked for. Tomcheese thing icky. Ask for caramel, sweet and straight. 

Ramble ramble. I need to delete this effing blog. And then go grab a pillow from Fame and hide my face in it. Those pillows were good..

Spot On.

Massive, Massive, Massive.

The mere mention of Chate’s Coaching Classes is invariably accompanied by some ugly allegations. Old news. Also stuff I don’t need to go into. But a recent experience proved beyond doubt the (ab)sense of ethics when it comes to the man running the show at Chate’s Vashi branch. 

I accept that there is little point in ranting and raging on a blog that is probably read by 5 people a week, if I’m lucky. But when I left the coaching centre, I was convinced that a blazing write-up for a news daily, in The Twin City Times if it came to that, would be next on my agenda. I rather liked the idea of involving the MNS youth wing, until it dawned on me that I’m a north Indian and Chate dear is definitely not. Back to the article - I told myself that being a BMM student would only help my case and screw up his. Also, a copy of the article would have to be slid under the door to the office. The write-up that formed itself in my mind as I walked away was, at the very least, the equivalent of a watermelon sized stink bomb escorted by two baseball bats for some physical impact. 

Par kya hota hai na, your face goes from a furious red to a peaceful tan, you age by a day, you realize you have lesser time left to waste now than you did yesterday and so you calm down… which is why this will go up as a blog outburst and remain one. I’m writing to feel good about having let it out. That does not mean another is obliged to read. Read forth if you don’t mind a long winded post about something that may not be of concern to you. If you do mind, I suggest you head to FML. 

So. I was there with an acquaintance of a few hours to complete a task. Do drop the “task-who?” queries. We were sent out to earn some money. Given - 3 hours, a combined capital investment amount of Rs.20, a cellphone as a team bonus and our oh-so-marketable baarvi paas skills. Down to our last hour, we felt like cavemen who had just figured out what to do with fire. After all, we had our modest but hard-earned pay stuffed deep inside the deepest pockets. During the course of the afternoon, we’d met some entrepreneurs some of who who genuinely wanted to help and did – them we were grateful to; some who found that Sundays didn’t translate to a day with spare work lying around – I’ll leave it to you to work that out; and then some blessed souls who as good as slammed the front door in our faces and then tried to spray some Baygon through the cracks in the wood just in case. Nevertheless, I was feeling, and do pardon the sad but fitting OSO reference, “like the KING of the WORLD!”

Chate’s, right. We walked in, briefed the boss there and were subsequently given some records to fill in, phone calls to make. All conversations started with this totally sadau “Hello, I’m calling from Chate classes” intro (NOT my dream job : | ) and went somewhat like this –
                   “Aapka beta aaj class kyu nahi aaya?”-“Bai.. ho ka? Nighaalla hota toh.. mee tabadtop yete! Tumhi thaamba!”-“Naahi, raahu dya.. ushir aalla asel. Mark nahi kiya hoga. Sorry.”

So we spend an hour learning new panic words in Marathi, systematically penning absentee records right down to the excuse. All while the lady employed to do this stuff quizzes us about our future job expectations and what we would do if a new co-worker happened to delete all our work and the boss “took the newbie’s side”. Would we resign because the boss had no confidence in us or would we stay on to prove a point? I’m serious. I left out the quotes and commas because they can be a pain more often than not, but those were her exact words. I know, I know, the things we do… Anyway, so an hour goes by, we work, then get up to see the boss so we may reap due monetary benefits. Here you’ll say we should have decided on a certain amount beforehand. Hah. Keep saying. Mr. Ghosh, showrunner extraordinaire, decided to disappear instead. Then over the stoopid Tata Indicom his voice made its crackly crinkly way to reach us. We get told there was no “commitment on his part as such” and we have no right to demand payment. We were begging for work, he felt sorry for us, so he gave us some shitty calls to make. No contract, remember? Yeah, right. Dickhead. 

And that led to a firing. Self to Showman. Derived tremendous satisfaction from it too. And it was this dignified firing that told him exactly what I thought of him. Ah, I was so proud of myself! Incidentally, so was the acquaintance of a few hours. He was also taken aback. Net result – he stopped hitting on me. Mera time 200% vasool. :D

I for one did not get the point of basically cheating two 17 year olds. For what, I can’t understand. Say there isn’t anything for us to do and we’ll go dude! Deceive why? I didn’t type out 900+ words to complain about having lost out on 50 odd rupees. Far from that. I probably ought to take the blame for having walked into an establishment like Chate’s and then expecting fair play. I don’t know. It’s just that the whole incident had me so mad!!

My point is this – Even in the absence of a lawyer, a contract drawn out on stamp paper and two witnesses, we need to get around to honouring agreements. Just plain ol’ staying true to our word types. Be it going out to play with a kid sister, meeting a pal on time or something we actually consider ‘major’. 

This may even sound preachy. But after a thousand words and a mind mad at that man all over again, I don’t really care.

I Have Been Thinking

Yes, yes. About a whole lotta stuff, sab totally un-interconnected. Unconnected. Inconnected? Non-connected? Disconnected is a bad omen, leave that be. And therein lies the problem. 

I seriously need to get off this whole random post thing I keep doing. I'm willing to bet I'll label this one 'Random shit' or some such. Sure, it may or may not be what some random guy's looking for on a blog, but that's hardly my concern. I mean, he's free to go write whatever he feels like reading, right? Just that if I was doing only random posts (intentionally, that is :|), I'd feel obligated, inspired, motivated to update every 8 hours or so. Wait.. how bad would that really be?

See, this is turning into another this-that-and-nothing post. When it comes to actually isolating a topic, I'm the proverbial ant stuck in peanut butter. Proverbial? A harmless, 'friendly' black ant, at that. See again - rant, I can. Discuss, I can. Ramble, I definitely can. Consciously pick a topic and write, I probably can too, just haven't managed it yet. Which is why letter writing -throughout school, then JC and now FY, for crap's sake!- always pissed me off. It never occured to them chumps that I might not be in the mood to enlighten my useless cousin about the importance of sports just then. It never occured to them chumps that maybe, just maybe, I'd like to be mentioned in that useless cousin's will 20 years down the line. Toughen you up for life, them chumps. 

Entertainment Pimp. Of Sorts.

Secrets are fun. Particularly when they’re someone else’s and you get to read. Anonymously. *evil cackle*

Most people see it for the harmless entertainment it is and enjoy it - no I don’t want to know what that says about me. Usually, hang ups can be sourced to an unusual (note: I did NOT say stuck up) sense of another’s privacy (make what you will of that…), nasty moods or plain ol’ fatigue. 

The way I see it, if the chump concerned doesn’t mind putting up something that may be ‘personal’, why the hell should we care? Same goes for all revealing blogs. If YOU enjoy reading them, just go ahead and fill MTNL’s coffers anyway. 

One globally popular adda is PostSecret. For some reason, I’m not a particularly big fan of all those pics covered with text, but hey, to each his own.

A few days back I looked up a site that I’ve heard a lot about but never actually visited. Highly entertaining stuff. You’ll find stuff you can relate to in a “Oh shoot, me too!” way. You’ll find stuff that has you hooting and doubling over. Then there’s some that’s essentially sad, you’d hate it if it was happening to you, but because it’s someone else, you pick up on the humour and give a wry smile anyway. Of course, you’ll find posts that do nothing for you, but hey, having you read it does nothing for the post either. 

The site is www.fmylife.com For the anti-abbreviationists out there, that’s Fuck My Life. 

Samples –

• Today, I signed up for an online dating service, a couple of days after my divorce. I got my first batch of matches, and number one was a smiling picture of the woman who had just divorced my ass after 20+ years together. Her profile shows she has to have been active there for months. FML

• Today, in my science class I sat next to my friend Jill. My teacher always gets our names confused calling me Jill & her Liz. She decided to combine our names. I'm now known as Jizz. My teacher clearly has no idea what it means. FML

• Today, I was driving in my car when out of the corner of my eye I notice a car pulling up next to me trying to get past me. I speed up, so as not to let the car pass me. It took me a while before I noticed I was racing against the shadow of my own car. FML

• Today, I yelled while I was sleeping....I was sleeping at a very important meeting with all the customers and my boss. FML

• Today, I lost my cell phone. But found it again! And then dropped it in the toilet. FML

You can post anonymously, answer a spot opinion poll and leave comments. Have a few good laughs, lighten up some, and get back to me with more sites if you know of them. 

Apologies to anyone who expected the post to be along drastically different lines. :P

Cheers

=)

A Couple Of Hours At Most.

You wonder why. You wonder why not. You wonder why you did. You wonder why you didn’t. You wonder why they did. You wonder why they didn’t. You may find the answers. Then again, you may not. Stories come your way all the same.

One orthopedic surgeon, a professor in Miraj, is operated on by another for a minor ligament tear. An arthroscopic surgery, for those interested. A cardiologist withholds the green flag citing possibility of cardiac trouble, proposes postponement of the procedure. The doctor in charge of the anesthesia has been a close friend of the patient-to-be for a while now. 

The team discovers that a well known orthopedic surgeon will be coming down to Belgaum for a visit soon. They fix a date for an OT meet up there in an unfamiliar, hut of a hospital as opposed to in Mumbai, as per prior plans. The patient goes under the knife. 

His brother, a gynecologist in the above mentioned metropolitan, stands guard outside the OT. He voices his doubts about the nursing home chosen. Urges them to reconsider, to pick Mumbai in light of the cardiologist’s warning. Shush, they say. Everything’s at hand. It’s expected to be a smooth show, Sir; a couple of hours at most. 

The warning flag has been disregarded; the whistle blown.

In hindsight, perhaps the cardiologist wasn’t really talking through his hat. Midway, they run into complications. Consulting or informing the sole relative present is ruled out, the procedure carries on. A cardiac arrest ensues. Call it intuition, call it boredom, call it primitive familial concern - within minutes the uninformed doc from the doorway rushes in. 

All that can be done gets done. That the nursing home is as poorly equipped as they come doesn’t help matters. Breach of trust at its worst. The patient is ‘in no condition to be shifted’. How the nursing home provides better facilities than a regular ambulance could be anyone’s guess. 

They try. Cardiac massages, all revival techniques possible put in an appearance. Jolts of electricity shoot through the man. To no avail. The patient loses his life. 

He was unmarried. He left behind grieving parents, and a brother who is now being accused for another’s lack of caution.

The next day, a missing car is traced. 

The anesthetist is found dead in the driver’s seat. He leaves behind old parents, a wife, and a child few months old. 

The post mortem reveals Scoline in his bloodstream. Scoline – a drug that paralyses all muscles until oxygen is artificially provided and that within 4 minutes. Beyond that? Brain death. Police evidence comprises a car locked from the inside, a motionless body and a syringe partnering an empty vial labeled ‘Lethal’. 

Suicide, they label it. For those hailing from a different school of thought, it’s about who murdered who.

Smooth show indeed.

What Did You Wish For?

Fresh after the 10th boards, I was looking to keep my choices open. Why Science? So I can switch streams later. Why biology? So that medicine is always an option. Why Swami’s? So I can switch to their Arts section in the 12th relatively easily, should the desire arise. Why the CET? That way engineering isn’t out. Why Symbiosis? So that BMM isn’t the only thing I can go in for. (And, if you want the truth, to find out just what the entrance test includes.)

But dude, what do you do when on the surface of it everything works out but the core of it is a jumble of randomly picked, conflicting molten metals? 

Be careful what you wish for, dear child, you may just get it.

Without going into much detail (your cue to laugh), I’ll have you know that I want to do that ostrichy, head-in-the-sand, you-can’t-see-me thing. Career confusion has gripped me, and indecision won’t leave me. But hey, it’ll all work out fine. Haha. Nonsense. I’m gonna get hysterical soon enough, I tell you… by the way, I’m awesome company (read- entertainment) when I’m hysterical. And that’s your cue to come tell me how I’m awesome company even otherwise :P

One thing – Symbiosis is out. I could use up an entire roll of toilet paper as notepaper, explaining the hows, the whys and the therefores, so let’s leave them questions alone. Know that I won’t land up in Pune after all. I have this theory that I’d love the ‘college life’ there, so to say. But having gathered a fractionally clearer picture of what I’d be doing once I’m outta there, it’s nopey nope for me. So here’s hoping I’ll learn to live with that decision and have no regrets later. And to apple-cinnamon pies topped with domes of vanilla ice cream. And to me mother. 

Getting things in place for the interview was memorable, to say the least. Which, me being me, won't happen.

The portfolio, bless it once and twice again, was completed sitting in the car, parked bang outside the campus walls, mere minutes before the interview was to begin. And to think I was asked if I joined classes to learn how to make and do up a portfolio. Yay to life in general! A 45 minute car ride from Kothrud to Viman Nagar was spent painting, pasting and repainting chunks of papier mache and strips of cardboard. An all nighter was managed with the help of SMSes and a cold floor, so I could prepare miniature paper mounts for the snaps I’ve taken over the years. Two gullible, unsuspecting friends were dragged to a fishing village, made to wait while I captured masalawallahs, chaatwallahs and then some fishy folks on film.

Good times, good times. Given a choice, I’d do it all over again. I think whatever SID prep work I’ve done will go down as real good fun, but fun that would eventually take me someplace I don’t think I want to be. 

I kinda feel like I’m betraying those paintings and photographs by using them as part of my portfolio, using them to convey my level of art and creativity to the panelists, using them to obtain the final go-ahead and then dropping the idea once it falls in place. It’s just not about whether or not they were deemed good enough by everyone who saw them… it’s simply that I enjoyed working on them, and just for that, they’re special to me. 

So here I am, all maudlin over some paint splattered on paper. Then again, it's paint I splattered. Samples from the portfolio beloved might just show up here.

So long. 

Shoot. I need to stop ending with that. It's like I'm attracting long deliberations and long speeches and long posts and.. long hair? Clearly, sleep is the need of the hour.

Stay well, folks.

Dear Lethargy, RIP.

Dear Lethargy,

We've been friends for close to two decades now. And what a friend! What decades! What a combination, darn it! My mind's tear glossed eyes see delayed replays of the times we walked hand in hand, strolling through the park and picking berries. Okay, so that was a lie. The berries never did quite make a show. You never even moved off your lazy behind, goddamn it! As for the tears... Still. The innocence. The heartfelt disregard for the rats that raced. Excuse me while I mop up this teary mess...

Remember the times when assorted deadlines flew by and all we wanted was to hear the "whoosh!" and see the back of them? When Monday came and Sunday went but everything, from bread to bath water remained unchanged? When the family got B grade movies for dinner because the other counters were too far away? When the bed first developed persistent depressions and consequent lumps?  When the birds overdid the mango tree routine because we chose to be generous? And lethargic, heehee. Sorry.

Some would call us 'chaddi buddies', some 'langotiya yaars' and some... okay, let's not go down that road.

The essence of it all is, you've been as faithful a companion as I could ever have wished for. Never have I felt the slightest trace of treachery or abandonment. You were loyal. You were there. True blue Liverpool style. True red, I mean.

But now... but now! But NOW!!

Okay guys, cut. So we just collectively discovered I can't handle filmy dramas. And Symbi needs me to be a drawer. Artsy fartsy. Whoop de doo, Mumbai it might just be! Coming back to the drama - It's worse when the script demands that first I K-reminisce and then do an about turn and screech "Magar aur nahi... main yeh zulm, yeh bojh, yeh nainsaafi bardaasht nahi kar sakti!". System overload ho jaata hai yaar. 

The general idea was to let it be known that killing off this blog is NOT the plan. I'm gonna get back to writing stuff and regularly. Sometimes there's so much to write about that I put it away for later... other times, there's "nothing to write about".

So I hope to hit up the New Post option sometime tomorrow and give you a well-deserved dose of my gyaan. Okay, so maybe you don't really deserve it.. but whoa, big deal.

This And That. Seriously.

And hello! Plenty of updates on the academic front, none otherwise. Which is why I think this post is going to be shorter and serious-er than usual. 

Here are a few mutually unrelated observations – that’s the most I could summon up the energy to do.

• To touch the tip of an ugly iceberg, I often feel like my time in Swami’s was a waste. I feel, not think. The Iceberg Diaries will resume later.

• Leaving the kid sister behind IF Symbiosis works out will be so so tough… I’m actually considering dropping the Symbi idea entirely on the basis of that. Go ahead, tell me I’m being needlessly sentimental. Or tellingly cowardly.

• Pune is one heck of a city. Well okay, so the only thing in its favour is its dry climate. You may wither and die thanks to the heat, but you won’t sweat. What a place.

• Traffic there is crazy. Drivers go zip zap zoom, bikers are vehemently anti helmet, and pedestrians have collectively vowed not to look up. Lane concepts got bypassed by the time Shivaji arrived.

• It pisses me off that every goddamned thing in Maharashtra has to do with Shivaji or Ambedkar. Didn’t anyone else ever do anything?

• I really want to get out and meet new people. That, preferably not in a pick up bar.

• Colleges have finally figured out that selling maximum possible admission forms is the cleanest way of minting money. Forms were available in SoBo colleges minus the standard glitches. 5 minutes would be the average time. Very impressive.

• I’m getting stressed out at the thought of having to pick a stream, course and college – in that very order – and soon. Come to think of it, there are times I mess up the order prescribed. There’s engineering at one end of the pole, designing in the middle and journalism at the far end. And of course, random ‘possibilities’ keep coming to mind. Why can’t I just do everything? :/ 

• What’s even more stress inducing is that most seem to think I have made up my mind. Haha.

• If nothing else, the declaration of results pushed many people from the past to call. Or send brief, exemplarily to the point SMSes – hey how much did you score? Bugged me at first - After that there were no calls. Point is, it was good to catch up with them.

• I find it weird that people expect me to be jealous of friends who scored more than me in the 12th. Need to bop them over the head and send them off to look up the term ‘friends’. And ‘deserved merit’, if I may add to their tasks.

• Atria, Worli is boring. Give it a miss.

In case you’re still reading, I still don’t know who sent me that bouquet with a “Congrates” card after the Std 10 board results. 

So long.

Peeves, The Second. Bleh.

As promised, a bunch of profile peeves. And finally, the bullets make an appearance!

• About me classics -
   “I AM WAD I AM! U cannot change moi!!!! if yu dnt lyk me den F off!!!”. What, you have some spare nylon cords? Oh, Just Do It already.
• Another thing, almost everyone on Orkut is “relli cool.…hottt…. sexii….. nd… stylishh!!!”. Hot and cool, hot and cool. If I was a chauvinist chump, I’d say almost everyone on Orkut is working to become a female female, get what I mean? Yeah... Thing is, I’m willing to say that despite being a certified (if only biologically) female.
• “I don’t befriend strangers so stay away!!” – this from the kid with 400+ friends. Gets you thinking.. benefit of doubt is a difficult thing to dish out.

Best part is, all of this ends with an “I don’t have an attitude problem, get it?” comment. Am I the only one to find that funny? Uhm, nevermind.

When it comes to music, people listen to 'everything'. Cuisine? Why, everything. Arr.. how do they do it!?

Books? “I hate dem!!!!!!!!! / nott in mah vocab!! lolz”. Idiots. And if not that, some wax eloquent about Nancy Drews and Agatha Christies. For real. They were good, sure, but venture out some please? I find it disturbing that people don’t want to move out of the high school reading zone or try out authors outside the Archer-Sheldon bracket. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy them too, but sometimes, just for the sake of variety and all, ye know..?

A popular idea of a perfect first date –on an isolated beautiful island filled with greenery, surrounded by water on all sides, on a candlelit table for two. lavish dinner and then a walk along the beach. World, it’s the first date – why, unless there features a death wish or acute desperation and consequent mindblock, would someone want to be on an isolated island? People are either naïve or very naïve. I just know I’m going to get attacked for this one. Defense put off till then. :l

And then you have the frandship brand. You buy it for the first 10 seconds, then decide it’s a joke profile and have a good laugh. Fine fine, maybe not in every case. Yeah, right. Whatever be it, they make for interesting reads. Many testimonials have people paying homage, and rightly so. After all, who else offers 'frandship and loveship advice to strangers drifting in the ship of life'? Difficult to miss this one, but in case you haven’t been here before - http://www.orkut.co.in/Main#Profile.aspx?uid=14707071151543310205

- - -

I’ve been thinking. Yes. People (yes, I'm 'people' too) come off as ruder/snarkier online than they really are, nay? Heh, I sure hope so.

So long.

Peeves, The First-Punctuation

Only recently got back with a long lost love – peoples’ profiles on Orkut. All it involves is hopping from one community to the other, clicking on names and display pictures at random and reading what they spent hours putting together. Status message - check. Profile sections, testimonials, photo album - check. In times of killing boredom, scrapbook all the way to December last - check. By then, you are likely to feel the first waves of nausea which have been sourced to potentially fatal overdoses. My suggestion, pick another random face from your would-be-could-be culprit’s friend list. Repeat procedure.

Be rest assured I propose a tried and tested, oh-so-respectable way out of boredom. Hours of entertainment AND no viruses, imagine. Heck, you can even create your own blog and write about it! :P

Bulleted below are a few um, choice portions. They can make you laugh and alternatively make you pull out your hair and scream in agony. I’m sure you’ll recognize most, perhaps even identify with some. Feel free to add to the list.

Before we hit separate sections of a profile, my one basic pet peeve - spelling and grammar conditions. May seem like a dry point to you, but that’s beside the point. Point is, i don….. undrstnd yy…. da peeps need tah… type lyk dis!!! Their POV is that the words can still be made out. Yeah, right. If you’re a seasoned decoder.

For cripes’ sake, it’s a 5-step demolishment policy they’ve distributed worldwide! Exclusive excerpts (painfully retyped in the King’s English for the most part) brought to you straight from the Haay Cumshinner’s desk –

a. Eliminate vowels. Vowels affect chances of peaceful afterlife.
b. Extended and misplaced ellipses (………..) are supplied at wholesale prices. Free of cost, for the elite. USE THEM!!
c. Capitalization is evil. Socialists we shall remain (no, not related) and teeny tiny typeface throughout we must propagate.
d. Do away with onomatopoeic “Haha, hehe, heehee”s. Bring in the lolz, lmao, rotflmfao – and swt. All else failing, go “ssup???????”.
e. Punctuation died with Gandhi. Make up for the commas, periods and question marks with scores of ‘!’s.

In case you happened to overlook the fact, the ellipses come in to buy time; particularly when they realize the next worked has to be spelt the Oxford way. Proven fact (Definitely the second half if not the first… Nonsense! That was tautology :l ) that it takes longer to think up “quirky” spellings and type them out than it does for Old Schoolers (in this case, inclusive of the likes of me) to type out entire ‘normal’ paragraphs.

Wait a minute. This post started out as one of those ‘mock the man!’ missions… turned into something along the same lines, but not quite. The finer aspects of profile hopping and subsequent revelations will come your way soon. Truth be told, I’ll enjoy writing about it far too much to put it off indefinitely.

Of Nothing, To Be True.

And hello. Been a while, hasn’t it? Then again, you wouldn’t dare reply in the negative, would you now?

Update of sorts – I’ve taken to running out of the house at 6 am to jog (most reluctantly) and play badminton (most enthusiastically) in the company of a few friends. I’ve been having a great time playing and meeting new people! You walk off court after a good 3 hours feeling all fresh and ready to take on the world – the exhaustion kicks in once you’re home and asked to put the laundry out to dry… You get what I mean. We are, so to say, getting back in shape. ‘Back’ kaha se aaya pata nahi, but it sure is heartening!

Some sincere counsel – do your best to avoid being paired with people you can’t yell at when you play doubles. You have some chumps who ignore shots, and therefore the game, because they figured “it was closer to your quadrant” and the most you can do in response is flash a slack jaw. Like seriously, what!? Some birds watch the bird fly overhead and admire the fluidity of motion. Birdie numb numb! Inside unfunny joke, don’t ask. They make annoying partners but hey, they might just be good players. Net result being that if you mind playing cameos, you’ll just have to lump it. Now for some foolproof advice – If you enjoy going for the shots and running around on court, warm up, ye hear me? Strongly seconded by some aching, inflamed and very stiff muscles.

Haha, we tried some wheatgrass juice after playing the other day – it came highly recommended. So much so that it cost us nothing. I’ll have you know one thing - post drink, you’ll feel like a cow. A grazing, mooing, cud-chewing cow at that. And akin to the dry masala puri after a plate of pani puris, they then give you a spoonful of moong sprouts to chomp on. Have all you want, but I’m warning you, you’ll feel like a horse.

- - -

In other news, I’m trying to get my portfolio in place. Keeps the mind busy, to say the least. Sometimes, I feel like my kid sister should be the one appearing. She is one creative chick. She’s also encouraging – she steals my paints, thereby forcing me to rescue them colours and put them to use. Sisterly affection in full force, yep.

- - -

After over a decade of seeing cheesy, jammy Monaco biscuit-sandwiches being advertised on bright yellow backgrounds, I decided it was time to try them out for myself. Verdict - Awesome snack! Also the kind you can patao a kid to make. Don’t whine if you’re the kid in your family, sucker. Send me some with a tall glass of iced lemon tea and a good book instead. Ooh wow, I need to go picture that folks... so long.

Les Blues Run The Game...

If we were talking football, I’d say I’m RED all over. Any day. But only IF. Right now, I’m blue all over. That it, folks – The blues are here! All those shades... shades I normally go gaga over, really. But sometimes, they suck. Nice and concise. Whoop dee do! Pulitzer with a side order of chicken wings please. Ack, no chicken. Dead things are bluesy. S&G sure got it right. All hail. The Internet's dead chicken below - viewing free.

All this feeling sorry for yourself business is so dumb. The rational part (not half) of you gets that it is anti-purpose, but while the majority rules… yuk yuk yuk. Emergency! This must end.


Okay, so today I painted. I kinda get why I averaged 4’s in school… make that 4.5’s. Then again, it could be the Blue Curtain dictating what I’m saying. To hell with it! So yeah, I painted. On leaves, on paper, with paints – I painted, get it? Good. All colourful stuff, I’m happy. Aw what the heck…

- - -

Now see, there’s this chap (I forget who) who said that if he was bored writing about something, he figured the janta probably wouldn’t enjoy reading it. Profound it isn’t, but so true, innit? So I’m gonna get the final fullstop of the day in place – soon. Not immediately, because I’m not bored. I’m just blank. And when over the murky blankness descends the heavy curtain… the moths attack. I have a few moth stories, actually. Ah shoot, I just got my Dad mad at me – I refused porridge at 8.20 pm, can you believe it!? Slam goes the door! Sue the girl I shall! Gah. Will someone please tell me who gets to be the teenager here?

The pictures helped, not a word from you - The dead chicken (sourced from Google, where else?) looks more alive than not. The crayons (sourced from some random profile, where the heck else?) make me happy. I sound like I think I would if I was drunk. I’m outta here. Here’s hoping Vikram Seth will help. Heh, I’m approaching a Holocaust story. My stars zonked out this evening, I tell you. Death to any joker who says this post made him/her laugh.

So long.

All Over The Portfolio

It has been decided. A portfolio I must have. Poems and articles work, ditto photographs and craft. Paintings and sketches - doodles, even. And guess what? I’m super excited! For real! Dunno why, but just the idea of getting paint and paper in contact gets me all animated! Doodles and snaps - awesome! Now I do get the feeling I’m overdoing the “!”s but hey, humour me... I’m excited, remember? Yeah!

So after 4 years of wishing Mrs. Sabrina David (art teach at school) would find herself a broomstick to fly (C’mon, she gave me 4 on 10 all along.. 5’s would be her biannual acts of benevolence. Never mind that the ‘artists’ in class averaged 7. ), and then 4 more years of paintless relief, it comes to this. A little out of pattern, do you think? Wrong, dear doofus. Absolutely wrong! It’s one of those round circle things, ye see… I’m sure I loved paints as a kid. Actually, it’s quite possible that I didn’t but umm… Okay, so unsafely assuming I loved paints, then tolerated them and finally detested them, it only makes sense that I fall for them all over again. See, I’m making perfect sense.

Ahh, I’m gonna paint! I can almost see some stuff - all I have to do is get off my lazy butt and make it. I’ve roped in my Nani – she’s my motivator cum art enthusiast cum creative guru. And boy, she does the best watercolours ever! She could make me feel like I was missing out on something great even during my AntiPaint phase... and mind you, it takes a lot to say no to temptation when it’s a matter of pointless principle.

My kid sister is all for it – she’s currently my centre for Lost&Found. Which is I-R-O-N-I-C. You know what I mean if you have a sibling. She even rummages for paintbrushes on her bed, that horror. Her bed the horror, she's a terror. Well, mostly not. To quote her – “My 12th standard Physics and Chemistry sister has to give drawing and colouring exams!? Oh my God, I have to help her!” Design entrance test reduced to a colouring exam. Heck, I was reduced to a Phy-Chem sister! Gave me such a sense of self worth. Small mercy that Math wasn’t featured. Another thing worthy of mention - I carried a pouch filled with her sketch pens, only one of which I used.
Lucky for her, she lives in this grossly simplified world where respect is dealt out on the basis of er... nothing. Authority, maybe. Which is why I get zero respect. The OMG bit – normally, I would have started a “Does God exist?” thing, but with her, nope. I tried it once when she was about 7 – she got hysterical, bawled. Nice and loud and scary, at that. And amidst her tears, she found the time, breath and energy to curse me to hell, call me names, come up with filmy dialogues AND promise me that God would punish me for being 'so disgusting'. I even got the royal ignore for the rest of the day. No theological discussions for us for a few years, no sir. I’ve smartened up, true.

- - -

Hehe, I got told this afternoon that I talk like I blog – All over the place. To me it felt like the biggest compliment ever! Dang, I even live all over the place. But then again, who am I to say… your venerated take on it would be?

Zip. Zilch. Nada.

Been five days since the naught discussed exam took place. Does the world look brighter, more colourful? Meh. Airier is all. Been sleeping more, jabbering more, online more, on the streets more… more of a slob than before, to be brief. Before the break, you’re so full of ideas… you see yourself chasing food fests and reading loads, catching up with friends and ‘doing something’, getting all artsy and going backpacking. But once the break has been flagged off, you’re lazybones reloaded. Combine that with some stubborn writers’ block and what you get is zilch. Nothing. One half of me wants to do a poll to pick a topic – that evil li’l thing! – while the other sincerely believes I should have taken up that moviemaker’s offer, auditioned or summat. Whatever’s left wants me to clean up the cobwebs.

Thing is, I’m rather okay with the decadence. I don’t really mind being a bum… except for every now and then. What I’d love to be doing right now is river rafting. What a way to wake up entirely! Had a go on the Teesta river in WB once – absolutely divine! One wild river, that. 20 minutes - You sing, you laugh, you have adrenaline pumping through you and of course, you work the oars. You bloody well work the oars. In that sense, rafting is one foolproof way of forging trust. The part about appreciating nature comes after you’re off the raft. Because really, when the alternative to singing and getting a kick out of it is thinking about how you can’t brake when the ride gets dangerously rash, you prefer to yell out jumbled lyrics. The best part is, no one's gonna notice.

Right, rafting. Upper limit on adventurous right now would be cooking up something fourth-worldly to guzzle down minus the beer. Third front : fourth front :: third world : fourth world. Get it? No, shaddup.

- - -

Ah. I figured I was rather thick skinned, all set to have ‘Bring It On!!’ emblazoned on my tee and stuff, but wow. Waking up to reactions along the lines of Tweak and Delete can do weird things to one’s epidermis. What the sun can do, you guys can too. So for the sake of my skin people, do be kind and leave comments telling me what part of the post did or did not go down well with you. A spot test is all very well since it gives out an idea about how the post was received, but it’s the comments that really let me in on what you’re thinking. No doofus, a comment doesn’t mean a compliment – anything constructive would be most welcome. So pull out your keyboards, and get your good deed for the day in place. Much thanks.

- - -

Daily dose of ramble shamble - MS Word sees ‘shamble’ and ‘shambles’ as different words. Obviously. No, I meant that in the context of what synonyms they provide, not how they’re spelt. ‘Shamble’ goes down as waddling or dragging your feet but ‘shambles’ is a muddle or a dump. And and and, ‘shamble’ is put down as a synonym for ‘shambles’. What a mess! See how shambling through the shambles of the thesaurus maker’s mind would make for difficult times? Uh, nevermind.

Have a lazy weekend. What, ideas? I freelance, sure.

The New Face Of Heroin

With great ideas, comes great procrastination. And with great worklessness, comes great desperation. (So I’m not Spiderman’s script writer, sue me!) But man, when all of these combine…

Naah, you deserve a complete sentence. So. When I’m the one full of ideas, procrastination, worklessness and desperation, what you get is an online advertisement for a job. And me being me (whatever that means), what I get, are responses.

This was around March end, just after the boards. It was mostly an experiment to get to know about the job scene for someone who is, for all intents and purposes, a prospective baarvi paas. The ad went precisely like this:

I just gave my HSC Science exams, and am looking for a job through the summer - April-June, to be precise. I'm open to trying out with almost any field. In case there's some sort of opening in a place you know of, do let me know! Thanks a ton.

The replies went precisely as… unexpected.

The first from Mr. Hotjapan went “You have a wonderful photo, congrats!!”. No kidding. Had him figured out for a weirdo. I mean, c’mon, even I wouldn’t have an email id that introduced me as hot japan, let along the ‘congratulations’ for a snap. More like lucky light effects with lucky genetic mixup. With my email id, I’m all mysterious yet straightforward – “i.me.maself” *groans*. What was I thinking..? Coming back to his mail, he then proceeded to give me some sefl-admittedly sound career advice - A truckload of entrance exams, an engineer in the making. Engineer. Definitely a weirdo, well-wishing and all.

One Rajnikanth asked me to mail “all my details”. Er, like what? Who to? Two others dropped by with concise one-liners – “u can mail ur resume”. My resume? To “u”? No friggin’ way.

There was a “dear miss,goodday.saw ur posting.i have a vacancy for telecaller.this is a security guards provider agency”. First person to tell me what job he was talking about. Considerate soul, to say the least.


The whole thing about how different people see things differently is so true. Some chap commented on the background, one got to the point and one provided tantric help. Seriously. He was offering ‘free astrological consultancy, complete problem solution, tantra and pooja so call now.’ For free! Heck, he even calls himself Dev.

Then there was one mail from a Prof who wrote about a NGO called Kanya Vikas, the name being self explanatory. It’s something I really want to do – get involved with NGOs, go out and do something. For a few hours, this experiment ceased to be one. Probed a little, turned out they have a 6 month probation period cum training program. The hours and location brought in a solid CET-related dilemma, so we braked right there. But I genuinely hope something along similar lines will work out for me, and soon. Part time, along with college, perhaps.


But wait, I still need to explain the post’s title. This is where it came from -

Hai,
This is satish kumar mv, from Hyderabad. I am going to plan out a telugu film. I am looking for new faces for heroin and character artists, this film is released in three main languages. If you have interest, hard work, dedications are your qualities. Then you can be part of my team. My profile -I got an international award in 2008 Gandhi panorama international film festival, and I am right now direction a feature film,
Please contact me with your full details, if you are interest to be a part of film
Satish kumar mv

I let go of a chance to become a Telugu actress! Wow... I could've become the new face of heroin, dammit...

Of Rude Rants And Rules..

So let’s talk about the CET. And not talk about it ever again. Sahi.

Chemistry – nothing really. 50 splotchy blobs, at last count. Physics – Closer to 40 blobs, right or wrong. Massacre. Absolute disgrace. Math – hah, better than Physics. I feel like such a traitor... And that will be it.

Sidethought - Slugs can be so exasperating, no?

- - -

I feel a full blown “Males!!” tirade coming on. Not without reason and nothing remotely flattering to the variety, I assure you. But gah, those thickskulls. In some cases, You thickskulls – hey, not my fault! Ever wondered why the last name Dickinson came into being? Okay, polite company, that particular line of thought must be done away with.

Instead, it’ll go down on paper – with ink – phir paper ka rocket banega – and hopefully, my charmed, aerodynamically screwed up craft will manage to puncture a few skulls. Something along the lines of a hot-air-balloon-cum-rocket would be nice. Throw out a few sacks of sand, and voila! You may now hop off and strangle Le Target. Add to that the tagda rocket effect. Whoa. This is one idea that’s bound to work... if nothing else, just because the novelty of it all! Guys, this is what the world needs! Anyone interested in working out some sort of deal - you know where to reach me. Trust me, people like going back to their prehistoric selves. That’s when human skulls were really thick.


I’m having fun.


Though when I stop to consider that all except one of my readers so far have been (em, are too) males... hatt! What do you suppose that means?

- - -

I‘ve been thinking... all these posts have been kinda dhilla. Dismissive, no real substance, get what I’m saying? The NBTD variety, exactly.


Case in point – this particular post. Yes, the post is a pointless rant. No, it’s not going anywhere. A wee bit flippant, granted. I know I won’t be offered the Pulitzer or your compliments for this one, chauvinist world that we live in.


But you know what? I’m enjoying it (the writing, not the evil ways of the world). My blog, thenga to you! Haha!

- - -

A little overdue, but lemme lay down one basic ground rule (My blog, remember? :P) –No offense meant on my part ; now or in the future. If you believe I made a dig at you (make that “when”... after all, it’s one event with sky-high probability), know that it’s ENTIRELY in jest. The probability may inch downwards if you display the courtesy of leaving behind a comment. I hate doing the all-caps typeface, so you know just how serious I am. Good.


C’mon, if I wanted to insult you, I’d bombard your Gmail, Yahoo and SMS inboxes with uh, material. And even if it was a blog post, I assure you the post would have a relevant title. For instance, “To The Sucker I Speak Of”. :P

Swallow And Sleep.

“Abhishek and Aishwarya didn’t get each other just like that... they had to struggle and become famous before they got noticed. Everybody wants to get noticed, no? Change. IMPROVE! That’s how you will find a nice, rich husband.”

And that, dear reader, was my “well-wisher’s friendly advice”. A co-baarati, co-non-dancer, total stranger and, lest I forget, my well-wisher. Sozzled well-wisher, if you ask me… but then again, to me, everyone looked unsteady and smelt the same. No, I wasn’t the one sozzled.

So. I ought to sign up for Bhangra classes. Be enthusiastic about a bit of sporadic wiggle waggle with a bunch of other revelers. Shriek intermittently since that’s part of the job profile. Set an example, there being a kid sister and all. And even the slowest gazelle must run faster than the fastest lion. There. I just condensed 20 minutes of counsel into 5 sentences. Should head to that twitter-tweet place.

In case my take counts for anything – I like the ringside view when it comes to that particular circus. Just watching people can be so entertaining. Particularly when those people are weighed down with bling but are obliged to look, feel and sound Punjabi-style festive. Loud festive. And frankly, some cute guy’s wedding is most definitely no reason to hop-shrug-stamp-screech.

And therefore, to quote a pal, “Swallow and sleep”.

- - -

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. It’s all a public conspiracy. Jaise my world is split into three – one part consists of my Mom’s patients. They recognize me on the streets --dangerous!-- “Arre, bilkul Mummy ke tarah dikhti hai!”. Yeah well, it just happened. Funny you should mention it, no one ever notices... medical miracle and whatnot. I now feel an unnatural kinship with you. Brains of the world, unite! Bah. The second part has all the relatives, ‘family friends’, friends of family friends and such. People who care about you... every time some results are due. Perhaps they’re not so bad - and perhaps they are!

What these two groups have in common is this – they derive some perverse pleasure when they sneak up on you and attack. And they really make you wish you had a brother.

Mid-checkup they go “Woh waha aapki beti thi kya Doctor? Mere building ke saamne hi thi, koi ladka saath tha...” because “bataana chahiye, farz banta hai”. Oh, sure. Power be to you. Hence the brother. And if not that, they dish out shady schemes for The Good Life. The one in which you shimmer and shine like a beacon (literally), get noticed and dig your beacony claws into the next unsuspecting good looking guy. Your life is made. In a nutshell – Bleargh.

For whoever has been paying attention – the third part of my world consists of people I won’t know during the course of my life. No, I’m not talking rebirth and afterlife. They’ll be the ones that never knew me, but showed up at the funeral because they expected to meet some business prospects. Lawyers, probably. So much for that.

PS - Mera life sahi hai, tension mat lo. People in general are much nicer than I believe I made them out to be. Morning posts are just likely to be bitchy. Okay? Okay.

Writer's Block. Already.

7 minutes since the first 'Draft autosaved' notification showed up. The Internet's way of hurrying me up. Clones all. It would be flattering if the chap was actually saving the first post by some future ka bigshot blogger. But when someone thinks they're doing you a favour by saving spreads of spotless white.. uhmm. Lets just say its more of a dampener than not.


Ever had conversations with your Mum where she goes "What's that thing anyway?". Yeah.. Well, in this household, when the mother goes "What's this?", its usually something gadget related. And usually something so elementary, that even I can answer it. I always knew there was a reason I have a dabba-illiterate mother. To make me feel like a citizen of the New World and shit. I love you, Ma. Gotta drop the "and shit". Chalo, ek aur resolution.

Coming back to the point - We have a "What's a blog?" convo. Now I have to play my part, so I come up with an oh-so-gyaani "Just this place online where you go write" comment. Blank look. Reply deemed unsatisfactory. I then proceed to outline foodie blogs (first thing that came to mind, to be honest..), techno blogs (last thing I'd want to be doing - honest!), random everyday nothing-better-to-do blogs. Also let in that I'll probably land up doing something along the lines of the last bit, if and when. Polite interest. Earn myself a "You should blog". Smiley all. End topic.

Now, the bigger point being - This is most definitely a NBTD post. (Work that out and you'll know you deserve to be reading this. Loser. Ha!) When you're reading some random dude's blog, NBTDs are fun. Kinda like leafing through a M&B or summat. Had you hooked? Lucky you, found the needle! If not - chal koi gal nahi, ghanta hi toh laga tha. But man, when its your own blog.. ahh. You know you can come up with better bakwas, par kya kare, writers' block. Convenient thing, that. Ditto for hormones.


A confession is called for - I dont have the guts, the 'daring', to scroll up and go over what I've written. It could be babble. It could be worse. Maybe even a drug to induce permanent writer's block. I dont know. And as much of a sadist as you may be, no treat tonight darling, sorry. I ain't checking.

Well okay, I might just. Wont change a thing though - pinkie swear. Left pinkie swear. And the pinkie is finger number... *cackles*