Breaking news!

I am going to be a TV news reporter!! Yes friends, I have just made up my mind and as soon as I find a News channel willing to hire me I will make the transition from my boring Communications job into the exciting world of TV news reporting. Besides getting to travel free to exciting places like Hyderabad flyovers I will also come on TV and my mom can say "How dare she wear such short tops!!"

TV reporting looks as easy as ABC. Anyone can do it. All it needs is an ability to ask probing intelligent questions that will elicit maximum information for the news hungry TV audience. I have been watching a lot of News Channels lately to pick up tips and tricks that will come in handy in my new job. For people who would like to follow in my footsteps, here are some pointers to becoming a good TV reporter.

1. When you see a badly battered bomb victim who is bleeding and is being carried on a stretcher his limbs being carried along in another stretcher, all you have to do is stuff the mike up his nose and ask "Aapko kaisa lag raha hai?" ( What do you think/feel?)

2. When you see people boating around a flood submerged street with their meager worldly possessions, stick the mike onto their face and ask "So you have become homeless because of the rains? Aapko kaisa lag raha hai?"

3. When you see people being inconvenienced by road blocks and bundhs like the recent BJP road blockade over the Ram Setu issue, stick the mike into the face of a 'inconvenienced person' and ask "What do you feel, now that you cannot go to office due to this road blockade?" For variety ask a school kid in uniform who has missed school like all other school children in the city “So you missed school because of the road blockade huh?" For more variety ask another 'inconvenienced member of the public' "What do you want to say to the people who blocked the road?"

4. Stick a long furry mike into the face of man whose wife has delivered their baby on the road due to the doctors strike and ask sympathetically “So your wife had to deliver the baby on the road uh?" "Aapko kaisa lag raha hai?"

5. In gentle tones ask a woman who has been raped “Aapka balaathkaar hua? Aapko kaisa lag raha hai?"

Expansion of course material welcome in the comments section. Due acknowledgment will be given to you in the book that I am bringing out called “TV News Reporting for Dummies"

Satan

Every night when I am sitting at my comp, I can feel a steady gaze burning into my back from beyond the windows and the dark of the trees in the night. A shiver runs up my spine as I feel those eyes upon me….. I dare not look around. Because I know what is. I do not have to turn around to see who it is. It is Satan!

Satan is a chubby two year old Alsatian, who, according to the paperwork is my brother M’s dog. He is a highly obedient, intelligent and well trained dog.

M: Here Satan, come here boy!
Satan: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
M: Good boy Satan, come here Satan, $%$^#& I said come here right now you mangy critter or I will hand you over to the SPCA!!!!!
Satan: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! *SNORT*

(I forgot to tell you that he was trained by his owner)

While he is not guarding our house he spends his free time trying to figure out the mysteries of his doggy life like why he is kept out of the house while the other two dogs enjoy the comforts of the house. Arguments like “you are a watchdog” doesn’t seem to hold water with him and he is currently pursuing advanced training in getting into the house without getting caught

Now you might wonder why a house that already has two dogs would need another one right? Well there is a story behind Satan’s arrival in our house. One dark stormy night as the stray dogs howled in the darkness, a robber scaled our walls and promptly fell down and broke my mother’s precious pots. The incident jolted all of us out of our reverie and reminded all of us how fragile pots were and we collectively decided to get a watchdog that would guard the house and warn us of approaching pot breakers.

After a frantic search in the Kennel section of all the newspaper we zeroed in on a jolly old Colonel whose dog had littered. Jolly ‘ol Col Sharma was a true dog lover. Not the money making, over breeding their dog kinda dog owners.

My dad: We want an Alsatian puppy.
Col Sharma: Sure, the males are Rs 50,000 each and the females 49,990/- each.
Dad: *swoon* *thud*
M: Thank you Mr Sharma. I afraid I cannot afford such prices.
Col Sharma: Ok ok 5000 and he is yours!! *Hindi swear words*

That Sunday Satan nee Veerappan all of six week old ball of fur came home to a rousing reception. And as is the practice in my house, every new puppy is greeted with great joy and affection after which everyone goes back to their routine leaving yours truly holding the baby dog. After everybody had left, Satan and I faced each other. Satan had a “groan so this is the stupid human who will look after me?!!” kinda expression on his face while I had a “I would like to do something painful to this dogs owner” kinda expression on my face. The dog’s owner had an “It is so hard to get a good maid to look after my dog” kinda expression. To which Satan had a “ I agree but I wish you could do better?” kinda expression. To which the dog’s owner sported a “ I know buddy, but something is better than nothing” expression. The “something is better than nothing” had an expression which cannot be printed here for obvious reasons.

As you can see from the above example, Satan was very good in verbalizing his feelings and we had frequent eye to eye chats.

Satan: I hate carrots in my food.
Me: Go tell your owner!!! grr
Satan: *HOWWWWWWWWWL*
Me: ok! Ok! Stop howling. No more carrots %^$^#%@*
Satan: *satisfied smirk*

(We didn’t see eye to eye on most occasions.)

I am sure dog and dog owner did some high fives behind my back and celebrated every victory with a beer and a bone.

Satan however had a problem or more rightly a medically untreatable grave defect. "HE WAS THE WORLDS MOST FRIENDLIEST DOG!!” He couldn’t bark leave alone bite to save his own life or his masters life. He was just not programmed to be a dog. A bug in his creation ensured that he spent his life thinking that he was a Teddy bear. A large woolly Teddy Bear that liked to slobber everyone including cats. Many a cat in our neighborhood migrated to Canada due to the ignominy of a dog having lovingly slobbered all over them. Somewhere in Gods assembly unit a Test Engineer lost his job or got a really bad appraisal when Satan was born.

But a watchdog he was and like his illustrious Alsatian ancestors, Satan too won many awards in the Watchdog Category. Chief among them were:

1. Most Friendliest Watchdog Award, given by the Bengaluru Robbers Association
2. Most Harmless Large Dog Award, given by the Bengaluru Petty Thieves Association
3. Best Watchdog Award, given by the All Karnataka Dacoits Association

(The awards are too many to mention here)

Bathing Satan was as easy as ABC...multiplied by XYZ, divided by EFG. In other words it was not very easy. Satan knew the meaning of the word B.A.T.H in 27 different languages. If you were to carelessly remark that you were going to give Satan a 'bath', then you would have to apply for annual leave to go search for him. On the other hand if you were to remark that you were going to give Satan a “LIC Retirement Policy” he would not suspect a thing!!! And it is thanks to LIC Retirement Policy, Max New York Pension Fund, HDFC Mid-Cap Opportunities Fund etc that Satan manages to have a bath every Sunday. (Never underestimate the power of investments!!)

Though he is very friendly, he is a very good watch dog and has prevented many burglaries in my house.

Robber one: Let’s loot Silverine’s house tonight!
Robber two: Are you out of your mind??? That is next to impossible!!
Robber three: You are right! There is no way we can get in or out of that house without getting doggy drool over our face.
Robber one: ewwwww

( He is a mean one one alright!)

The purpose of this long winded post is to wish Satan a very happy 3rd birthday! According to good ‘ol Col Sharma, he was born in the last week of September, on the day the BMP garbage truck failed to arrive. Apparently Satan’s mommy gave birth while Col Sharma was out cruising the city in the night looking for a place to furtively dump his garbage.

I am not at home and I am missing him soooo much :(( Hope people at home give him a nice time and hope his owner for once in his lifetime takes Satan for a WALK!!

Happy Birthday you adorable naughty ball of fur! I love you so much! *muah*

FAQ’s about Kerala

With the spread of IT after the overspill in Bangalore, we now find people heading out to places like Kochi, Mangalore, Pune and Jhumri Thalaiyya etc to work in the Technoparks that are mushrooming there rapidly. Therefore I am often confronted by questions about Kerala by people who are relocating there. I have compiled some of the questions that I am usually asked so that people can use this as a travel advisory.

Q. Where is Kerala?
A. It is in South India.

Q. Where is South India?
A. Near Chennai.

Q. What is Chennai?
A. Never mind.

Q. How do I reach Kerala?
A. Kerala is connected to the rest of the country by Rail, Air and Sea routes.
Q. Do I need to take a visa?
A. No, but a copy of “Das Kapital” will make your stay more comfortable.
Q. What is Das Kapital?
A. Never mind.

Q. That was very rude.
A. I know. Next question please!!!!!

Q. I have heard that Kerala is full of mosquitoes.
A. %$^#& who told you so?
Q. errr…never mind.


Q. What do people in Kerala eat?
A. Rice and vegetables and some meat. But mostly they drink.
Q. Really???
A. What did you $%#& think?
Q. err…nothing!

Q. What do people in Kerala drink?
A. Water….sometimes neat but mostly diluted with Whisky, Brandy, Rum etc.
Q. Oh!
A: What did you mean by “oh”?
Q: *gulp* I swear I wasn’t thinking anything!!!


Q. And what do people of Kerala wear?
A. Clothes!
Q. Really? Err… I mean that sounds great.

Q. What kind of people are Keralites?
A. Most of them are human, the rest are communists.

Q. Who is the Chief Minister of Kerala?
Q. Wait let me try and answer that!
A. Ok!
Q. Ratnasiri Wickremanayake
A. hmm close
Q. Lawrence Gonzi!!!!
A. You are getting hot!
Q. Mohan Lal!!
A. Bravo!!!!
Q. You are making fun of me aren’t you?
A. Yes!


Q. I am not talking to you!
A. Great. See ya!

Q. I have one last question
A. Shoot!!
Q. Are all Keralites like you?
A. What do you mean, “like you”.
Q. I mean rude and sarcastic!
A. No, I am an exception.
Q. Thank god!!

Q. One last favor.
A: hmmm!
Q. Will you teach me some Malayalam?
Q: *GRIN* But of course!!! It will be my pleasure totally.

Please note: Kerala can be replaced with Maharashtra, West Bengal, Nagaland etc for morons like these who cannot see beyond their hometown and the main metropolises.

If you pay more peanuts you get better monkeys!

Have you ever bargained for fruits from the cart vendor? I guess all of us have at some point or the other. No one in their right mind would go to the apple seller and buy the fruit at the quoted price. We all tend to bargain because the seller expects it and hence hikes the price and you the buyer knows that the price is hiked and hence you try to bring it down…besides you are a sucker if you buy the apples at the hiked up price. The vendor will probably stick his tongue out at you when you walk away with the apples at the quoted price. And you will be labeled a loser in the Apple Vendor circles.

Vendor 1: Look!! There comes Arjun. He bought a kilo of apples for Rs100/- from me yesterday.

Other vendors (laughing derisively) : HAHAHAHAHAAAH!!!

Arjun: *sob*

Bargaining is an art.

You: How much for the apples?

Vendor: 70 rupees a kg saar.

You: My god what prices!!!!! I will give you 35 rupees

Vendor: heh heh get me a kilo of apples for 35 rupees and I will give you this whole cart free.

You walk away…

Vendor: Ok Saar take it for 65 rupees

You: 40

Vendor: 60

You: 45

Vendor: 55 last price Saar…

You: Make it 50 and we have a deal

Vendor: Make it 54 saar poor man saar...

You: 50 is my last price

Vendor: Deal!

Something similar happens when you tender your resignation. It has happened with me before when I put in my papers. The last time I was really serious. I had to quit. I knew all that was to be done in that job and had achieved as much as I could in that organization besides I was being given a higher post in the new job. I thought I would have a talk with my HR and then put in my papers.

HR: okay Miss if salary is the reason you are leaving then we can always do something about it.

Me: This is not about salary. I can do my current job with my eyes shut and need a fresh challenge or I will stagnate.

HR (looking at me straight in the eye) : How about 10 more peanuts than what you are getting now.

Me: Mr MM, please try and understand…

HR: 15 peanuts!!

Me: This really isn’t about money!

HR: *sigh* you drive a hard bargain…ok my last offer 30 peanuts plus a peanut toaster thrown in absolutely FREE. Think about it girl…take your time. This is very good offer and you know it!!!

This guy was unbelievable! I did not know how to make him understand that taking 30 peanuts and the free toaster would not give me the new exposure and challenges that I am looking for! He just couldn’t understand that I needed to expand my skill-set and knowledge base through a change in job title, wider responsibilities and greater role dimensions. It was getting very obvious that he was selfish and not bothered about my career at all. I had to look out for myself. There was no other choice. So I put my feet down firmly!

Me: Make it 40 peanuts, plus the peanuts toaster, plus a peanut container and a bottle of beer.

HR (without batting an eyelid) : Deal.

It is not easy to achieve 100% job satisfaction, but 40 % is achievable if you bargain well. Don’t you think so? ;)

( p.s Off late a lot of legitimate mails have ended up in my Spam box and were deleted. So if you didn't get a reply, then please accept my apologies and resend the mail)

Rising above the ordinary...people

On August 25^th, SK was abducted by the dreaded terrorist outfit TIS. SK like any other ordinary Indian citizen was on his way to work when the incident happened. The news sent shock waves amongst his friends and family members. A pall of gloom fell over his village.

SK was a well liked man and had numerous friends. His family had every reason to be proud of SK. He had done well in life and had bought a name for his family. Which is why it was hard for his friends and family to digest his abduction and detention. The abductors in a letter released to the press said that he was a threat to their cause.

With his abduction and detention on August 25^th began a long ordeal that plunged the family into a state of turmoil. Eventually a crack team of expert “Negotiators” won SK freedom from the terrorist outfit. Unverified reports say that he had to pay a huge ransom in return for freedom. The TIS has however threatened to abduct him again if they think that he is acting against their interests. It is very evident that the TIS is beginning to flex its muscles and enforce their dikats.

Wearing a white shirt, jeans and a grey cap and carrying a bag, SK walked out of the abductors jeep and waved at his friends who clapped and shouted slogans in his support. The henchmen of the militia outfit had a tough time controlling them. The local media gave wide coverage of the incident. People watched in stunned silence as SK walked to freedom. Nobody thought that he would come back.

Earlier, the local unit of the TIS, the TRP which released SK said “I hope this serves as a warning to everyone not to mess with our laws”

'We had full faith in the negotiator and finally we have been proven right.” SK’s cousin said.

Ecstatic scenes were witnessed after SK’s release. His family though moved by the release maintained a dignified silence in public. He was greeted with joy by his numerous friends. Crowds thronged his residence in his village and celebrated the triumph of good over evil. He was given a hero's welcome

SK (Salman Khan) in the meantime is still haunted by the specter of TIS (The Indian State). But he told reporters that he has decided to live a normal life despite the continued threat to his freedom by TIS. “It is better to die once than always be afraid of death” said SK quoting Julius Caesar. “And it was inspired by this quote that I put an end to the misery of that poor Gazelle. It was on the endangered list you know!?” he exclaimed.

The vociferous support of his friends was a show of strength to the TIS (The Indian State) and its local unit the TRG (The Rajasthan Government) and it’s militant arm TRP (The Rajasthan Police) that people like SK are above their law.

In an unrelated incident actor Sanjay Dutt said that he will soon be joining politics. When queried by reporters on his sudden decision to join politics, he said “The move was not sudden. I have only recently obtained the required qualification to become a politician.” He was of course referring to his recent conviction and imprisonment in a criminal case.

p.s Noted film maker Dubash Bhai declared in a Press Conference today, that he will soon be making a movie on SK’s capture and ordeal at the hands of the TIS. The film is tentatively titled “101 ways to cook Venison”

Feasting and fasting...

Hola peoples, hope you all had a nice festive time with Rakshabandhan and Onam (Malayalam translation -“the festival of putting on much weight”) And now after the festivities and merry making lets get back to business i.e. working out the calories that you have put on due to the Onasadhya. So all of you get off your backside and get moving in the general direction of a gym or read this post. Of course moiself have no worries in the weight department and, so I will with great sadistic pleasure advice people who have to lose their Onam hangovers...especially around the waist. This can be done swiftly and painfully by Liposuction or slowly and painfully by starvation. Either you way you will have a tough time tra la la la la

I do not know much about Rakshabandhan. But I was persuaded by my North Indian colleagues to tie Rakhi on my brother’s hands. My eldest bro gave me a thousand rupees with the rider that I "invest” it. I did invest it…in a couple of Madeleine Lipsticks :) (and that in girl terms is a very good investment indeed hummph!!).

My second bro absolutely refused to let me tie anything on his hand that will have an adverse effect on his purse. He did let me tie the Rakhi finally after I threatened him with dire consequences ( shudhdh vegetarian food on Sundays). He gave me a perfume that even my maid refused to touch (and this is the lady who thinks ‘pine scented phenyl’ is sexy!! brrr). I have now put it up for sale. Buy the perfume and get a perfume remover absolutely FREE!!! So far no takers :(

Any ways I realized that Rakhi tying is fun and profitable. I wanted to tie Rakhi to my Dad too, but the gentleman declined politely. According to him “Fatherhood is killing enough!” hmm I wonder what he meant by that.

Anyway Onam a.k.a “long queues outside Kerala State Beverages Corporation Limited”, is our harvest festival. It is the day we give thanks to the Gods and Goddesses that despite great odds facing our agriculturists like "trade unions" the farmers managed to deliver the crops to the market and to your table without giving too much "nokku koolie".

Legend has it that King Mahabali who ruled over Kerala was a highly popular King. There were many rave parties and drinking binges during his time. Earth had become a happening place and there were no takers for the heavens. "Let the good times roll" was the official State motto. This made the residents of heaven a bit uptight (constant diet of milk and honey does that) and they decided to put the lid on the partying and merry making by banishing Mahabali to the Netherworld a.k.a. the land of no booze. Mahabali was however allowed one day respite from an eternity of prohibition and allowed to return to Kerala and it is on the day that he returns to the land of the coconuts a.k.a. Kerala, that we celebrate Onam. As you can see, we the Malayalees were a 24/7 partying crowd in the good 'ol days.

Anyways we are digressing again folks. The real purpose of this post is to get all you people back into shape after the countless Onasadhya helpings that you people indulged in. Given below is the easy to follow Silverine Miracle Diet ®. Seven steps to a healthier and slimmer you in just a few hours!!! Don’t believe me? Try it out

1. Water: Water is very good for your body. It fills you up, revs up your metabolism and washes away all the impurities in your body. So as of today you shall drink a lot of water till you are running, sprinting, dashing in the general direction of the toilet. (Warning: People with weak bladders should not attempt this exercise) Please don’t cheat by shifting your workstation to the toilet.

2. Fibre: Fibre is essential while dieting and one needs to include plenty of fibre as the body needs a lot of calories to digest fibre. On an empty stomach, go to your nearest vegetable shop and buy 10 kilos of Cucumber. Wash, peel, and chop into 1cm by 1 cm cubes, and throw it away. Do this six times a day.

3. Sensible eating: Eat simple and nutritious meals like a glass of water in the morning, two in the afternoon and another two in the night. If you still feel hungry, buy yourself a large slice of Black Forest cake, a hot cup of Cappuccino and a plate of Mutton Biryani and throw it into the dustbin. You deserve it for putting on weight.


4. Total body Cleansing: Cut off a 1’x 1’ piece of your blanket. Now boil it in approximately two cups of Dettol for two hours till tender and eat while it is still hot. You will puke till your guts are on the floor. Guaranteed weight loss of at least two kilos in a day. I will not be responsible for the Intravenous that may cause you to put back all that you have lost. So go to a hospital at your own risk.

5. Exercise: Get yourself a snazzy exercise gear and get up early in the morning at say 4:30 am. Now take a bath and get into the snazzy exercise gear and go back to sleep. You will be so tired because you got up a 4:30 am that you would keep dozing at work and swear never to overeat again. Repeat everyday till I tell you to stop.

6. Walking: Walking is an effective way of exercise. Walking away from the cafeteria till you can walk no more will help you lose more weight than a good one hour in the gym. So start walking.

7. Eat lite: Low calorie meals are the order of the day. So clear out the Chocolates, Ice Creams, Sweets, and Pastries etc from the fridge. Now pack them in neat containers and send them over to my house.

Remember the key to success in dieting is following the above formula without skipping a day. Happy dieting!!

p.s Guru Dakshina in the form of self control ( by my students) while commenting will be highly appreciated.

18 facts no one wanted to know about me

Someone tagged me I don’t know when. In fact I have forgotten his name too. But since I am right now at a boring training session I thought I will take this up. Now this training session seems to have been devised by Inquisition team of the Dark Ages itself. No laptops. No Internet and no sleeping. I will actually have to learn something *sigh*. Anyways as an act of rebellion I will do this tag from the Instructors laptop as he talks about our company’s Privacy Policy *yawwwwwn*

1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it.

I have a scar on my forehead which is barely visible now. Got it when an overconfident brother all of 9 years old took me pillion on his new bike. He lost balance and I fell and hit my head on the granite stones piled on the side of the road. I never cried till I saw the blood. I still have the habit. Till I see blood I don’t feel the hurt :p

2. What does your phone look like?

I have no idea err I mean...of course I do...just a sec while I take a relook. You know for the sake of accuracy and all that. And here are the results *drums rolling* hmmmm It looks like any other phone… except for the logo.

3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?

There was a Lizard staring at me some time ago. We stared at each other and I would have won the staring competition if the lizard had not opened his mouth and said. “Yawn”. And then it slithered away. I swear I will out yawn him next time. And if he still wins I will concede defeat graciously and then kill him.

4. What is your current desktop picture?

A magnificent example of Digital SLR photography taken without permission from the Canon gallery ( a.k.a my happy hunting ground for some nice nice girly girly desktop pictures)

5. Do you believe in gay marriage?

I think two people who love each other should be together no matter what the neighbors giggle and say. So there!!!!

*giggle*


6. What do you want more than anything right now?

If I had an idea I would have been on my knees begging and pleading God for the same, till he gets fed up of my whining and gets ear plugs or grants me my wish. But you see I myself have no idea what I want right now.

7 . What time were you born?

Around 6:30 pm on a cold and stormy evening in some hospital in Ernakulam. High drama preceded that 6:30 pm. The rain had set in. It was dark and stormy and all throughout the road not a creature was stirring not even a Chayakada owner. Despite the warnings of the Met department my Dad braving high winds and slashing rain took his pregnant wife to the hospital. She was screaming in pain. The doctors had warned him many time not to make his pregnant wife push his car, but he had not heeded their advice. My mom still pushed the car towards the hospital. But to his credit the engine did start when they reached the hospital gates and my dad was able to park without her help.

hahahah none of that happened. I was exaggerating. She actually pushed it to the parking slot.

Ok kidding! Actually my mom was ensconced in a warm hospital room with all her sisters and her mom tut tutting around her making her feel like a Queen who had just won the Sikkim Thunderball. My poor dad was alone in Bangalore tending to his two young sons with no help save for one mother, a father, 5 brothers and equal amount of sister-in-laws, aunts, uncles, grand aunts, grand uncles, some neighbors and one couple on their way to Ooty to honeymoon and 529 nephews, nieces and cousins. Legend has it that he put on an enormous amount of weight and his wife didn’t recognize him when he landed at the hospital But that is another story. Legend also has it that when I first beheld my dad I looked at him and uttered my very first words " Amma?". My mother was not amused. Neither was my Dad.

8. Are your parents still together?

Despite my Dads best efforts they are still together :p

9. Last person who made you cry?

Arey anyone can make me cry!! I have double the tear glands and triple the emotions of an average girl. All it needs is an averagely sad sight like a lost puppy to make me go boooo hoooooo...

10. What is your favorite perfume / cologne?

Lemme check what my Mom/aunt/friends have got in their cupboard and I will let you know. But 'rose' is the preferred aroma.

11. What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?

I like the opposite sex. Period. Packaging doesn’t matter. (creeps excluded)

12. What are you listening to?

My dumb colleague go on and on about Sanjay Dutts conviction which made me so bored that I wrote this tag without being reminded. That should give you an idea how desperate I was!

13. Do you get scared of the dark?

Yes and No. Yes if I am alone. And no if I am not.

14. Do you like pain killers?

This has to be the most stupidest question in the world unless you are a masochist. In which case my sincere apologies to masochists who may be reading this. Please please forgive me and don’t whip yourself too much for my transgressions. *sob*

15. Are you too shy to ask someone out?

Let me meet a shy guy I like first, then I will tell ya. Till today I am yet to meet a guy who says "hi" before he says "coffee?” (Exceptions like married and gay men are forgiven)Anyways the answer is "no".

16. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?

A large slice of Lasagna drenched in melting cheese stuffed with moist meat sauce and a savory combination of ricotta, mozzarella, provolone, and romano cheeses, topped with mozzarella in each layer, baked in a wood oven and served with a red wine, vintage year 1678.

I gotcha drooling didn’t I? *evil sadistic smile*

17. Who was the last person you made you mad?

My counterpart at work by saying that Sanjay Dutt should have been let off for being such a good boy.
Oh yeah baby. Lemme kill some people and then I promise I will be a good girl if you don’t jail me. Bah!!!!!

18. Who was the last person who made you smile?

Someone who chivalrously opened the door for me today :)

p.s I am listening to The Last Waltz.

And I am tagging Alexis, Mathew, Binu and anyone else who wants to take up this tag.

AND WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY AND JOYOUS ONAM!!!

A Christmas Crib story

People who forget history are cursed to repeat it, says an old proverb which I suspect was mouthed by an ancestor of my parents because this is something I have been hearing from the time I was a small brat …without any effect at all. In fact if “Experience” was a school teacher, this is how the conversation between Miss Experience and me would go.

Miss Experience: Now that you have burnt your fingers have you learnt that it is not such a good idea to put you hand in the fire?
Me: Nopes
Miss Experience: It’s no point teaching you anything is it?
Me: Yes!
Miss Experience: From my experience I can safely surmise that I can go home?!
Me: Yes!
Miss Experience: Class dismissed!

It is this congenital inability to learn lessons from past experiences, that landed me in a very grave situation last Christmas. A situation so grave that it could have put a cemetery to shame!

But did it teach me a lesson? Naaah.

It all started one fine winter morning. Well it wasn’t that fine actually…..it was quite foggy that morning…the type of fog that makes airlines pilots look at each other gravely and say “mommmmy".

So that fine foggy morning, my eldest brother G declared that he had to dash off to Mumbai for some urgent work. This meant that the centuries ( acco to my Dad) old tradition of G making the Christmas Crib in our house would now be undertaken by yours truly and M, my second brother. This was a bonanza beyond our wildest dreams!!! We greeted the news with disbelief/surprise/glee/trepidation/fear/uneasiness/feeling of impending doom/optimism and bravado… (in that order).

The Christmas Crib, to the uninitiated is a small tableau depicting the birth of Christ. It is put up in every Christian home a few weeks before Christmas, and in my home it used to be an activity that we kids undertook jointly, till due to certain hitherto undisclosed reasons the two "second class" (read younger) siblings were very cruelly and heartlessly banned from the said activity. The reason I think was pure greed folks….the greed to win the Annual Christmas Crib competition in which some uncreative and very old Parish Council members’ awarded prizes to the most pansy looking cribs. (G by the way almost always won the competition).

And what was that unfortunate incident that led to us being banned from crib making? Nothing serious I assure, just that we showed a creativity that was far ahead of our times. ( It is a miracle that we were not burnt at the stake or sentenced to death by stoning after that incident) M and I decided that the Christmas crib could do with some creative decorations and applied all our meager Primary School resources towards these efforts. The result was extra ordinary! We were very proud of our creation and waited with bated breath for the Parish Council to arrive to judge our crib. The Parish Council did arrive and gasped in collective horror when they saw the angels in my Rajasthani Dolls clothing and the three Kings in army tanks holding Kalashnikov rifles while six GI Joe's stood proudly around Baby Jesus' as his personal body guards. I shall not elaborate what happened after that but according to family legends my Dad had to sponsor one church building and pay for several masses to prevent his two younger kids from being excommunicated by the Church. We were also banned from further Christmas crib work by our parents and a restraining order of 10 feet distance from crib, was slapped on the two of us.

Now with G off to Mumbai, we finally had a chance to redeem our names. After much squabbling and arguments we decided that we would play safe and make a conventional but ‘lifelike’ Christmas Crib. During our years of vanvaas we had keenly watched G in action from the designated ten feet of distance stated in the 'restraining order' and observed as he carefully marked areas around the miniature wooden Bethlehem with a pen and filled these areas with mud which he dampened and planted with sprouted mustard seed that grew to resemble natural shrubbery. After which he arranged the figurines like the shepherds, angels etc. to complete the picture. It looked so easy! We were sure it would be a cake walk.

Everything was going fine as we set about the important but oh-so-easy task. Suddenly M had a brainwave and like all his brainwaves in the past that has left me with burnt fingers, singed eyebrows, scalded toes, fried legs and once a nearly burnt down house, this too was treated like a brilliant idea by yours truly. I learnt the hard way that I never learn :(

M thought that instead of using the anemic looking mustard sprouts we will use the healthy and robust Fenugreek (methi) sprouts instead! He had seen some in the kitchen garden and he said they looked green and rather harmless. So we borrowed a big packet of methi seeds from the kitchen, sprouted them and planted them in the damp soil around the town of the miniature Bethlehem. Next we arranged the figurines like the shepherds, lambs, three kings etc in their designated places and surveyed our creation with great satisfaction! The Holy Family, we decided we would put in later. Soon the small seedlings started emerging and the scene took on a realistic hue.

Early the next morning my Dad woke me up with a worried look. He pointed to the crib. The little teeny weeny innocent looking baby methi seedlings were now 3 inches in height and the Shepherd figurines were looking rather alarmed. By the next morning, the shepherds and their sheep had disappeared in the overgrowth. In the next few days the thick growth had swallowed the entire town of Bethlehem and the methi plants were now looking greedily at our house!!

The situation was grim in Bethlehem.

Shepherd 1: Hey Shepherd 2 can you see me?
Shepherd 2: I can’t see a thing in this damned overgrowth!!!
Shepherd 1: err Shepherd 2 can you hear me?
Shepherd 2: yeah, loud and clear
Shepherd 1: Good!!! Just wanted to let you know that your "Daisy" made a rather nice "mutton tikka labaadaar"
Shepherd 2: %$^#&##@*&#*
Shepherd 1: Catch me if you can tee hee.

Angel one: Say Angel Two, I always wanted to tell you this but never got the guts, but you look so pansy in that outfit! *giggle*
Angel two: *guffaw* Godamnit…you are right!! We do look like a couple of pansies!!
Angel one: *sigh* If I get out of this jungle alive I am going shopping to Forum.
Angel two: And it won't be night gowns we will be buying!
Both: ROTFLAO!!

King One: Hey King Two you look like a moron holding that Frankincense.
King Two: Poda patti!
King Three: King One you don’t look too manly either holding that Myrrrh *snigger*
King One: Take this you country bugger *biff*
King Three: And you take that you cow *sock*
King Two: wheeee this is fun!!


M grimly tried to bring the situation under control by hacking the overgrowth but to no avail. The plants kept growing and growing. Alarmed at the escalating situation, my mom pitched in to help. The meal menu in the house reads thus:

Morning: Methi Dosa. Methi Chutney. Methi Coffee, Methi Tea, Methi leaves chumma just like that if you feel munchy
Lunch: Methi Pulao. Methi Salad . Methi Avial, Methi Thoranl, Methi Kaalan etc.
Tea: Methi Tea, Methi pakodas, Methi Rolls etc
Dinner: Methi Rotis and Methi Chicken. Methi Chana, Methi Raita etc.

All meals accompanied by Methi pickles, Methi pappads and Methi preserves.

Finally after some frantic eating of Methi and more Methi till we were all green in the face, the battle was bought under control. The damned plants stopped growing and peace was restored. When we left for Kerala for Christmas, our Bethlehem looked worse than a nuclear war theater that had suffered a meteor attack. Of course we didn’t win the Christmas Crib competition. It went as usual to some pansy crib made by equally pansy neighbors.

p.s the 'Restraining Order' is back in place *sigh*

Note to self: Next time ….if there is a next time please DO NOT USE High Speed Accelerate Growth Mixture for you know what.

Independent and clueless

On 12 March 1930, Gandhiji walked the talk to the coastal village of Dandi. He was joined by many people who followed him to witness the first act of Civil Disobedience that extricated the powerful hold of the British Empire from India without bloodshed. (Dentists!! Please note this point)

He reached the village of Dandi on April 6th and took a lump of salty mud, boiled it in seawater and illegally produced Salt.

And since then we Indians have been producing many commodities illegally and committing many more acts of Civil Disobedience like evading taxes, violating laws, plagiarizing, violating Intellectual property rights and destroying public property!

Perhaps Gandhiji should have addressed the future generations with a disclaimer before he made the epoch making decision to taste the salt of the earth.

"Civil disobedience is the inherent right of a citizen to be civil, it implies discipline, thought, care, attention and sacrifice". But……

“Dear peoples, please remember this is a token protest. This does not mean that you can now start manufacturing salt at home and sell it using those horrible television commercials!”

“And dear peoples, this act of defiance by me does not mean that you can defy Intellectual Property Rights and make horrible movies like KANK.”

“ Or make horrible caricatures of Nusrath Fateh Ali Khan, Simon and Garfunkel, Boney M, MLTR, Pink Floyd, Abba, Michael Jackson, Sting, Dolly Parton….guess you get the drift.”

“This does not mean you can dump garbage in your neighbor’s house.”

“Or turn up the volume of your music systems.”

“Please do not interpret this as a license to spit on the road.”

“Burning buses is not a form of Satyagraha.”

“And neither is making illegal liquor at home!!!”

“Tasting of salt from the seashore is not the same as tapping Electricity illegally.”

“And c’mon this is not in the same league as beating up fellow drivers on the road!”

“Neither is evading taxes!!”

“I request all of you gathered here to read the Dictionary when you go home and understand the meaning of the word “Independence”.

And my last appeal to the next generation which has nothing to do with this incident is, please stop making those horrible remixes. And for those of you here, who don’t know what a remix is, never mind. You will not live to hear it anyways *sigh*.

Perhaps he should have been around a little longer to teach us the value of independence and our duties as responsible citizens of this great country.

Happy Independence Day to you all!

Whats in a name? Nothing!

Time and again I have my non Keralite friends telling me how difficult it is to pronounce the surnames of Malayaleei colleagues and friends. I understand their dilemma. A Thomas Mathew is easy to pronounce, but if he chooses to take his veetu peru (house name or family name) as is the tradition and call himself Thomas Mathew Vandanakkare, then I simply cannot blame my non Malayalee friends for their consternation and call them Xenophobic which would be easier anyways.

I mean the last person who tried to pronounce a Keralite house name had to be rushed to the Emergency Room to untangle his tongue from the 24 neat knots it had twisted itself into.

Now I like to think that I am a fair and equable person who can understand the phonetic difficulties of our non south Indian brethren. So here I have compiled some Malayalee “house/family names” to illustrate to you that our ‘house and family names” are nothing to be feared of. After reading this post I promise, you will be able to remember the family names of all your Malayalee colleagues/friends without difficulty.

1. Renji Pallivadikkal - Renji Church Door

2. Sunu Vaddakekara - Sunu Northern Side

3. Sunil Kunnath - Sunil on the hill

4. Mary Neerampuzha - Mary Redant river

5. Chacko Katticaren - Chacko Soldier

6. Joby Thekkeparambil - Joby Southern Fields

7. Paul Kinnatukara- Paul Well wall

8. Blessy Vattaparambil - Blessy round estate

9. Lily Madapally ‎- Lily Covent Chapel

10. Jacob Alapattu‎ - Jacob Blacksmith Song

11. Blesson Alilakuzhi‎ - Blesson Peepal Leaf hole

12. Noble Padinjarekootu‎ - Noble Western Group

13. Jiji Panjikaran‎ - Jiji Cotton man

14. Jomon Puthanpurayil - Jomon In the new house

15. Shijo Thudianplakkal‎ - Shijo Jackfruit Tree

16. Varkey Vettukuttil‎ - Varkey Cut Forest

17. Girly Vadakumpadam- Girly Northern Paddy field

18. Baby Kallarakkal – Baby In the stone tomb

19. Susan Medhipara - Susan Threshing the rock

20. Jeejo Nedunkallel - Jeejo In the long stone

See zo zimble no?!

*phew*

Please note this was just the tip of the iceberg. But fear not, all of them are as zimble as the ones I have shown above.

Additions to the above welcome in the comments section with or without translations.

Friends are forever!!

What is a friend?

A friend is someone who crosses the road risking her life because she wants to say "hi" and also because she thinks that you look horrible in that Purple top and hence should remove it immediately.

A friend is someone who will then yank you to the nearest restroom and make you change your top with her T Shirt. There is no way she is going to have you walking around looking like a fashion faux pas.

A friend is someone who will send you an SMS first thing in the morning that says "good morning" and someone who sends you the last SMS that says "good night".

A "sad smiley" is all you need to convey to your friend that you are down.

Friends are people who will take leave enmass just to hang out together.

Friends are people you let your hair down with.

Friends never judge you.

A friend is someone who will fight tooth and nail and hang on to ten different dresses she thinks you will like at the "Ultimate Discount Sale" while I take my own sweet time to arrive at the store.

A friend is someone who knows your mom as well as you and can hence fend her off with smart answers.

She will then SMS you the entire conversation so that you are prepared for the Third Degree when you reach home.

A friend is someone who says " I love you bitch".

And she will not blink an eyelid when I respond fondly " And you too whore".

A friend is a person who got the maximum pinches from me in Kindergarten, max "katti's" in first grade, max hair pulling in third grade and still remained my friend because of the lame reason that "she likes me".

A friend is someone I know I will call 30 years from now to complain about my arthritis and heart problems. And she will be there at the other end of the line to listen to my grumblings patiently. ( bitch if you die before me I will kill you....real slow grrr)

A friend is a person that makes life's journey look rosy, because no matter what life throws at you, you know you are never alone.

A friend is a person who will make lemonade for you when life throws lemons at you, because you are too lazy to make your own lemonade.

A friend is a person who will defend you even if you are wrong and then give you a pasting in private.

A friend is someone who will SMS every hour with words of encouragement till you sit on that dentists chair. After which she will SMS you telling how much she is enjoying the pani puris and gol gappas and pav bhaji knowing very well that you can only sip liquid through a straw for the next two days. It is at these times you wish you had taken a nice present for her, something really nice like that Dentists Drill when he is not looking and do some "unfriend" like things to her for being such a good friend.

A friend is someone who will never get hurt no matter what you say and do as she knows you too well.

A friend is someone you can trust blindly with gossip that can get into real trouble. That in girl terms is the "height of trust"

A friend is someone you pray your brother will marry. A sister in law who is your friend is one of the wishes I would be asking when the Genie appears. ( Thank god my brother doesnt expect the same!!!)

A friend is family.

A friend is forever.

And to all my friends who have been with me through thick and thin, I dedicate this post. I know this blog has taken away a small portion of my time with you. But what the heck I know you guys will forgive me anyways :p

To all of you my dear blogpal, thank you for being such a good friend and dropping in here to read my demented ramblings and still remain sane.

Happy Friendship Day to you all.

Kaala Paani

Dear Miss Silverine,

I reached Kerala safe and sound. I am so glad that you talked me into taking the plum post of Senior Manager with Kerala Dot Bust Corporation. I feel so important. No one came to receive me at the airport though. But the taxi driver was friendly.
He took to me to the hotel in under five hours. But the good news is that it is in the heart of the town and only 5 minutes away from the airport.

p.s I shall keep you posted of the happenings through regular emails.

Regards,

A J Singh

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Dear Miss Silverine,

Thank you for booking me into an ethnic hotel. Jayashree Boarding and Lodging doesn’t sound too ethnic though. But I have got a premium room says the receptionist cum phone operator cum cook. The room has a nice view of several ladies hostels. I am yet to see a coconut tree though.

p.s. Why do they keep the brooms and mops and buckets in the room? And the cleaner keeps coming in and going out at regular intervals.

p.p.s. how do I tell the cleaner in Malayalam that I don’t like sharing my bed with him?

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Dear Miss Silverine,

Been struggling for the blanket with the cleaner whole night. How do I tell him in Malayalam that he should stop pushing me out of the bed?

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Dear Miss Silverine,

I have been assigned a house and it is a big relief. Sleeping with the cleaner was giving me nightmares though it was nice of the hotel to provide such personal services. Is this the famed Malayalee hospitality?

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Dear Miss Silverine,

The weather is great though a trifle humid and as per your advice I came to work appropriately dressed. Didn’t want people to think I was a fob you know. But my boss was not very happy. Perhaps the red color did not suit his tastes or he is not very partial to Rupa Underwear and Banyan. Next time I stick to a local brand. After all when in Rome etc.

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Dear Miss Silverine,

The first day at office didn’t go too well. I greeted everyone in Malayalam just the way you taught me. However I must report that the people here have no manners. When I said, Good Morning patti, they gave me a cold stare.

p.s They are now sitting outside holding red flags as a sign of welcome, just like you told me. I have taken pictures of this colorful event.

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Dear Miss Silverine,

I am a little tired today. I think it is the lack of nutrition. They expect me to eat rice with my hands. I tried but the grains kept slipping off my hands. Are you sure eating with spoon is considered an insult in Kerala? Anyways after four hours I managed to get four grains into my mouth and am now living on Coconut water and Bananas. The Kerala bananas stink though.

p.p.s The tea boy slapped me when I called him poda patti. You told me that it is a term of endearment in Malayalam!!! Did I mispronounce it? I am now very confused.

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Dear Miss Silverine,

My stuff arrived from Bangalore. There is a group of men outside my door asking me for money. I paid them Rs 10,000/- as you had advised. They were very surprised. I unloaded my TV alone. Kerala customs are very strange.

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Dear Miss Silverine,

A little bird tells me that you hate me after that last salary raise of Rs 50/-. I should have made it Rs 75/- since you have been so helpful to me. After all I am an HR with a heart. That’s my motto. “HR WITH A HEART” heh heh

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Dear Miss Silverine,

Today I went to the market to buy some provisions. The ladies selling fish are wow!!!! I shall be here for some time.

p.s. How do I say “you look hot baby” in Malayalam? Please SMS me ASAP

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Dear Miss Silverine,

I am in jail…..

Life can be funny

I came to office one day and saw an unsigned message on my Whiteboard. It said...

Call me!

Bewildered I turned around and asked my colleague who had left this message!

"A sardarji..." she replied.

This is the first time I saw a Sardar joke happen right in front of me.

This same Sardar has another legend attached to his name which happened before I joined this company. One day a colleague saw him removing the mouse from his laptop and connecting it to his PC and vice versa several times. On enquiry the Sardar revealed that he was trying to Ctrl+A and Ctrl+C some written matter from a MS Word document on his laptop and then connecting the mouse to his PC to Ctrl+V to another Doc open on his PC !!!

Attention manufacturers: Ever thought of making a mouse cum USB?

p.s no offence to anyone, the same thing happened to a certain mallu gal, namely me. I wrote the status of four programs I lead on my White board. Then I realized that I had got their order wrong. My hand moved to the mouse to Ctrl+C and Ctrl +X to cut and paste the sections as per order. It was when my hand touched the mouse that I realized what I was doing :))

And there is more…

After much selection, rejection arguments and debates, my Dad and my brother M decided on a particular bike as his belated birthday present. My brother wanted a bike with good pillion seating space. My Dad wanted to buy him something safe. (read boringly uncool). Some days back when Father and Son came home with the vehicle my Dad gave this seasoned driver the mandatory lecture (as he was footing the bill) on safe driving and driving the bike at a 40 kmph for the mandatory first 250 kms . He ended the lecture with a tongue in cheek comment. "So now with all that pillion space I guess you can carry your girlfriends around"

To which M replied ruefully: At 40 kmph no self respecting girl will sit on my bike :(

All of us were ROFL while my dad was thoroughly chummified (embarassed).

This doesn’t end here. There is more. The person laughing the loudest at the above incident was my eldest brother G. He is the guy who follows all Dad's diktat to the T while M is just the opposite. When G was in college, after a long day at the lab he was driving back to his campus hostel which is a good one kilometer away from his college. It was then he noticed a timid and shy gal classmate walking towards her hostel. Since it was late G offered to give her a lift till her hostel. Now G has a reputation for being a very nice and decent guy and so the girl agreed readily. Halfway through the ride she tapped G on his shoulder and asked him to stop. When she got down G remarked that the hostel was still quite a walk away and he could drop her to the hostel gate. "No thanks" said the girl. "I think I will reach faster if I walk!"

( Actually the gal got down when she saw a couple of her hostel mates walking towards the hostel on the road. But this became an epic with more and more episodes being made by his batchmates. All of them more outrageous than the other and takes a dig at the fact that he rarely goes above 60 mph.)

Here are some versions of the story that I remember. He refuses to divulge the rest :p :

Version 1:

G: Do you want a drop to the hostel?
Gal: Sure! But only if you let me drive.

Version 2:

G: I can drop you to the hostel.
Gal: No thanks, I will walk. I need to get there before they close the gates.

Version 3

G: Do you want a drop to the hostel?
Gal: Yes.
And she hails an auto.

Version 4

G: Do you want a drop to the hostel?
Gal: Some other time thank you. It is getting rather late.

And many more that I don’t remember.College anecdotes welcome in the comments section :)

Top katz and a topper of an aunt

Some days back I landed at Frankfurt. Lovely airport! You will fall in love with this airport if you are the type that goes weak in the knees at the sight of massive amounts of steel, concrete, glass and Germans.

My aunt who was supposed to pick me up was already waiting for me two hours before the scheduled arrival of the aircraft. Forgive her her enthusiasm and protectiveness; after all she is my moms sister!

As soon as the aircraft came to a halt, there was a a whirrr of helicopter blades and the aircraft was surrounded by commandos who had descended from the choppers. Before I could say “Oktoberfest” I was whisked off in a private car that was parked on the tarmac. hahahaha I am kidding but that wouldn’t be too far from the description of my aunt swooping down on me.

Before I could walk into the terminal she was beside me hugging me and kissing me (groan) and whisking me into the Airport. Of course not before she gave her dirtiest look at the German hunk who was talking to me. From her looks it would seem he was a criminal. All he was trying to say was "Will you be my subservient Asian wife". From my aunts reaction it seemed like he had just said "Would you like to convert to a heathen religion?” *sigh*.

After that it was my aunt all the way... from collecting the baggage to driving me home all the while chattering away like an mallu stranded on an iceberg dressed only in a mundu. I had this nice hotel booked by my office, but living in the Hotel would mean automatic disinheritance from my aunt’s Will. (She has kept some family heirloom for me you see. She will not disclose what it is but I get this sinking feeling that this is just a ruse to blackmail me.)

My aunt drove through the German roads not once taking her legs off the accelerator and it was then I got the answer to the question that was bothering my Dad for a long time i.e where my brother gets his driving genes from!

My aunt lives in the suburbs with her husband, one colorful Parrot, 56 resident cats and 78 visiting cats of which 34 are here just for the food. The rest fool her into thinking that they love her to bits. My Uncle is a jovial businessman who hates cats.

My aunt had apparently been cooking from the day my mother wrote in and said that I was coming. Like most loving aunts my aunt too was under the impression that I would probably crumple up and die if I didn’t get good home cooked mallu food and then her sister wouldn’t talk to her for the rest of her life. Which is a very horrible thought for her. That would be a lot of ‘shame and scandals in the family’ she would get to know only after it has been discussed to death and not instantaneously as he does now.

Sitting in a German house in a German town on a German table eating Rice and Thiyal and Pappadam from German utensils is one of the queerest things I did. Of course there was the Ada Prathaman served in a German ice cream bowl, but what took the cake was the unakka meen (dried fish) dip topping on crackers (it was yummmmy).

My aunt is a slim and feisty lady who looks like a Gucci model if Gucci had models for its seniors collection and is always on the go. She is very active in the local community and during her free time she conducts "Indian Cookery" classes. She actually convinces the Germans that "thawed cut vegetables cooked in coconut milk from the can is Golconda Quila ka Kuruma" and "canned baked beans mixed with one teaspoon Curry Powder is Shahi Nawabi Rajmah" and Chicken cooked in Tomato sauce is Chicken makhani. (This piece of information remains with me till I die or she gets to be disinherited by my mom. Apparently my mom has kept some family heirloom for my aunt you see. She will not disclose what it is but my aunt gets this sinking feeling that this is just a ruse to blackmail her. Like sister like sister. )

The proceeds from the cookery classes goes towards realizing the single most important mission in her life besides getting her husband to like cats...and that is entering the Guinness Book of World Records for feeding the most number of cats!! (The last is a possibility, the former an impossibility.)

A word about these cats while we are at the topic. Unlike our Indian cats, these guys are 7 feet in length and weigh a ton and if a Royal Bengal Tiger ever saw one of them, he would cover his eyes with his paws and go “mommmmy”. It would then promptly go extinct due to sheer shame.

p.s On my last day of stay the Parrot looked at me and said “Chechi." That's when I realized that the colorful parrot was actually my cousin brother Chacko and not a parrot that can talk Malayalam! No wonder he looked askance at me when I went “Polly Polly, Pretty Polly, Polly wanna Cracker?” I cant believe I did this to him. I didn’t recognize my own flesh and blood!! I am mortified :(

But I must admit that his yellow and green hair looks rather colorful in the dull grey of Frankfurt. Now if he would only lose his pink pants and leather jacket I firmly believe he will look human.

His other two brothers were in Kerala for the vacations. Apparently they need to go away from the house from time to time or their mom would start chasing them with a Flea Collar calling “Kitty kitty, here kitty, come and wear this nice Flea Collar mommy bought for you”.

But it was a nice trip and really great meeting up with my aunt and even greater that I left Frankfurt without a flea collar around my neck *whew*

Auf Wiedersehen Frankfurt!

Joys of being an underdog

"Cheta I want to tell you something" I said to my brother. M looked up at me warily. Something is always amiss when I call him "cheta". It is a precursor to "I hit someone with a bike" or "I jumped the traffic light and got fined." I get full attention from the diligent cleaning of his bike.

"There is something I need to tell you" I started. His eyes widen like saucers and he croaks "you spoke about this to anyone???” I nod my head to indicate a 'no'. This is bad news for him, because only when I am in real trouble do I go to him surpassing the Lower Court (eldest bro), High Court (mom) and Supreme Court (Dad) hierarchy in my house.

"There is a guy in your life!!" he said springing up like a Jack in the Box. Judging from his expression it looks as though I have just said "cheta I am gay". In fact I think he would have heaved a sigh of relief if it had been that. Like most elder bros he dreads the day I will say that I have a guy in my life.

"errr hmmm!!!" I squirm. I can almost hear the sharp intake of breath. “Ok tell who the f*&%r... err... I mean the guy is, NOW!!!!"

Silence from my side.

I can see him battling homicidal tendencies and fratricidal mania.

He tries a new tactic and asks with pseudo kindness through gritted teeth" Ok tell me , who it is, is it someone I know?"

I nod affirmation. I can almost hear him think... " Hail Mary give me patience full of grace or there will be a double murder in my hands today the Lord is with thee, I don’t want blood on my bike tires blessed are thou amongst women but if I take him some place lonely and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus patience I pray for patience....."

So what is his name?
mmmm...
I promise I won’t lose my temper *grrrr*
*silence*
I swear I won't over react!!! *growl*
Motorola!
Motorola?
Yes
That is not even funny!!!
Seriously that is the name. Dad bought me this PDA and I came to tell you that I don’t know how to operate it.....

*if looks could kill then I would be wearing white robes with a halo on my head and playing some awful music on the Lyre since I don’t know how to play the Lyre. I would of course be sitting on cloud 456 where I have been banished so that the residents of cloud 9 do not have to hear the awful music I would be playing till eternity.*

ps. lots of things happened here which I cannot elucidate but I am so thankful to my PT teacher for teaching me to run really fast.

Lesson for the day for autocratic elder siblings: Don’t jump to conclusions and if you do, make sure you carry a parachute...or you can run really fast!

This day that year!

All this birthday thingie has put me in a severe thinking mode. So that is a lot of grey cells squeaking in protest at the unaccustomed work. Serves them right too. All play and no work makes silverine's grey cells a dull bunch of grey cells. Which is a horrible thought especially when my aim is to be a scintillating conversationalist and brilliant raconteur and some other big words in the dictionary.

Growing older has made me very philosophical. I mean I am growing everyday like everyone. My cells are as amorous as anybody else's and are copulating and multiplying with the zest of an Indian population. But then one day when your folks put a cake in front of you and say “tadaaaaaan time to celebrate one years achievement of your cells” you are faced with questions for which you have no answer. Like why am I here…. when I should ideally be at a Hawaiian beach with a Cocktail in one hand and John Abraham in another? And other deep questions like why the heck do we celebrate birthdays? I can imagine our parents celebrating our birthday because they are proud of producing a little legacy that looks like a shriveled uppumanga (mangoes preserved in brine). But why should I celebrate my birthday? I didn’t do anything naah to come into the world? What I am trying to say is pure and simple. I DONT WANNA DO ANY WORK ON MY BIRTHDAY!!! :p

Talking of shriveled uppumanga I could never understand the fuss people make of new born babies!! Do you look at a shriveled uppumanga and say "soooo cute”? Besides unlike newborn babies, shriveled uppumangas don’t cry and poop and pee 24 hours!! And it can be used in a variety of ways when the wife is not talking to you like as a neat bread spread!

The year I was born was a momentous year. Several events rocked the World and humanity in general and it's repercussions are felt even today!! It was the year...

…the CBI sent their sleuths to Bangkok, Amsterdam, Hawaii, French Riviera etc to crack down on people indulging in some harmless fun. The sleuths never came back. The post mortem report said that they had died of “Debauchery” whatever that means. Many politicians on “Educational Tours” have also died of same mysterious ailment brrrr Of course I was too young to be an informer those days and point them to the kingpin, a certain Alexis living in the CET Men’s Hostel.

…when Mathew looked at the cute little gal in the neighbourhood and uttered his very first words to his mom. " Amma I won’t pee in my pants anymore. It is so uncool!". (Of course he didn’t see his mom and the cute little gals mom doing high fives behind his back).

…when Shruti's parents were growing more and more amazed to see their precocious daughter growing up to be a sensitive beautiful girl with a flair for words.

…when Brijesh's folks had already discovered what a bright and socially conscious son they have.

…when Angel Doc's parents were proudly waiting for their beautiful daughter to finish medical college and wow the medical fraternity with her …blog!!! I mean besides Mind Curry and Angel Doc how many docs do you see who write so beautifully? ( Wokay as of today I am sticking to Homeopathic medicines. Old jungle saying: “An enraged doctor is more deadly than a swarm of angry bees though not as deadly as a swarm of African bees”)

….when Jiby's parents were secure in their knowledge that their son was going to become a Priest and perhaps even a Saint at Loyola. (His poor folks dreamt of free boarding and lodging at the Vatican and perhaps a dip at the centrally heated Papal Swimming Pool and some quality time at the Papal Summer Palace after their jaunt on the Papal Luxury yacht on a tidy stipend from the Papal Bank. The jaunt on the Papal Luxury yacht was hurriedly removed from the itinerary by his mom when she came to know that the ladies in the G String bikini on the Papal Yacht were not an Order of Nuns as she previously thought.

...when Kusum's kindergarten teachers were debating if Arsenic or Potassium Cyanide were the quicker way to get rid of her. err...they were not planning to poison the irresistibly cute but naughty little Sindhi gal, but consume it themselves you see!

…when Di looked at her mom and uttered her first word: >:D<
Her mother said: Ente Ammme!! What language is our child speaking!!!
To which Div said: =((

Unknown to them their gardener, a certain Yahoo Chan had observed the whole conversation. He left the job soon after and went on to become a millionaire.

...when Flaashgordon's Dad and Mom were making their son vacuum the house blissfully unaware that their son would be a renowned Hindi maestro who would drive Hindi pundits to collective suicide but not before they tried every trick in the book to eliminate him.

…when Iyer Education’s appa, fed up of complaints from moms of little gals he promised to take “I, Iyer Iyest” was searching for him to give him a sound spanking!

( This post is a humble acknowledgment of the stars of this post for this!)

Thank you...

"A friend is a person with whom I may be sincere. Before him I may think aloud."


- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thank you dear friends...I cannot describe how overwhelmed I am and grateful to have you guys as my friends. Thank you!

Serving you....the BMTC way

Today when our puny, tiny, minuscule, irrelevant-in-the-scheme-of-things-on-Blr-roads car stopped near an almighty giant Bangalore Metropolitan Transport Corporation (BMTC) bus, I was pleasantly surprised to see this legend painted in Arial Font 000.0001 next to the door of the bus. It read:

For complaints and suggestions please call: xxxxxxxxxx
BMTC Call Centre number: xxxxxxxxxx
Control Room: xxxxxxxxxx


Now I have heard of the NASA having a Mission Control Room for its space missions, but BMTC??!?!?!?

Driver Kempanna: Shivajinager we have a problem!!!
Control Room: Kempanna, This is Shivajinagar. Say again please.
Kempanna: Shivajinagar we have a problem. We have run over a pedestrian, two scooters, three cars and a lorry. People are pelting stones!!!
Control Room: Abandon bus immediately. Do you read me????
Kempenna: This is Kempenna reporting from a back alley phone booth. Bus abandoned successfully.

*Standing applause from the Control Room staff seated in front of glowing monitors at the BMTC Control Room. People can be seen crying and hugging and congratulating each other for another crisis averted successfully!*


Of all the Road Transport Corporations in India, I think BMTC is the only one that actually requires a call centre.

BMTC Call Centre: Namaskara! This is the BMTC Call Centre. How may I assist you?
Passenger: I am unable to board the 405 at Agrahara Circle.
BMTC CC: Did you try running and jumping into the bus?
Passenger: No
BMTC CC: Then I suggest you do heh heh


Passenger: Bus number 303 doesnt stop at our bus stop even though it should!
BMTC CC: And which bus stop are you talking about?
Passenger: Mehkri Circle
BMTC CC: Then I suggest you dont try and board the bus from Mehkri Circle heh heh

Passenger: I need to go to Belandur. Which buses should I take?
BMTC CC: hmmm You could take 305 but (lowering his voice) between you and me that driver Rajappa is a tad too drunk today. I would go by the numerous private buses. Much safer understood?
Passenger: Understood....Thanks!!! You are a life saver!
BMTC CC: We are here to help you Sir, thank you for calling the BMTC Call Centre. Have a nice day!!

Passenger: The conductor of 104 refused to give me change!!
BMTC CC: And what does his nameplate say?
Passenger: Ranganna!
BMTC CC: oops I wouldn't mess with him if I were you brrr
Passenger ( in a small voice): *gulp* Ok!

Passenger: The conductor of route number 231 was misbehaving with my daughter.
BMTC CC: heh heh that Lokesh is such a romantic!! Just tell him that you will report to his third wife Gajalakshmi,and he will behave himself. btw her number is 6785939 just in case, but you wont need it...he is shit scared of her hehe


Passenger: You should provide for more buses on our route. We have only one bus coming every four days!
BMTC CC: I am sorry Sir, but the money we kept aside for buying new buses has been used up to pay the 2,857 cases booked against BMTC drivers for haphazard parking, 30078 cases for killing pedestrians and 4000 cases for drunken driving and 50,000 cases for rash driving. You will now be automatically redirected to the office of the &%$#@ Traffic Police Commissioner where you can voice your protest against traffic cops who fine BMTC drivers. Be sure to raise your voice. Every voice counts!!!
Passenger: But...but
BMTC CC: Dont worry Sir, this call is absolutely free and is sponsored by the BMTC Union.

Passenger: I want the BMTC bus schedules...
BMTC CC: Even I want one!!!! har har har Sorry I am cracking up here hahahahaha BMTC and schedules??? hahahahaha!!!!

Yes a call centre is just the ticket to a comfortable ride with BMTC!

Pehla Nasha

I have been tagged by Lady Malady of Confused, Toronto,Ontario,Canada (phew these royals have such long names brrr).

According to the diktat of the Lady, I have to describe my first kiss. Well if you are looking askance at Lady Malady wondering if she was out of her mind tagging a single south Indian gal, then I have news for you. You will be surprised to learn that you are biased, prejudiced, Xenophobic and other bad things. If you think that all that a south Indian gal does in her youth is learn to make 'sambar' and 'avial' then you are right. But that does not mean we have no love life. We err...do!!

Back to the tag....my first kiss was one of the most magical moments of my life. It was a puppy love kinda moment but one that I will remember for a long time. I have spent moments freaking out wondering how my first kiss would be but when it did happen it was so natural!

Year: Circa late 1990's
Venue: Leah Varghese's house.
Event: Our weekly chick flick get together
Witnesses: 6 girls, a pile of charcoal roasted bhuttas (corn), a plate of sliced raw mangoes sprinkled with salt and chilly powder and half a dozen Dixie Cola bottles.

The movie was half way through and a mushy romantic scene dominated the TV monitor. Our eyes glazed as we watched the beefcake hero take the pink candy floss heroine in his arms and give her a smooch that lasted exactly 1 min and 34 seconds ( Exact time not verified. According to Priscilla's watch it was 1 minute 15 seconds). This was the second kiss of the movie and hence the extension of 34 seconds.

As we went "awww" in chorus, Jimmy Varghese sauntered into the room. He walked casually to where I was sitting and plonked himself oh-so-casually next to me. He had deep brown eyes and a really cute but naughty look on his face all the time. In short, he was a dream boat. I frankly didnt think this hunk who had girls gushing over him 24/7 would even look at me let alone acknowledge my presence. Soon we had the inevitable power cut and the girls trooped out to get something more to eat, leaving me all alone with Jimmy. I turned around to him with a nervous smile ready to make polite conversation when he leaned across and surprised me with a kiss right on my mouth.

Taken aback I gasped "ewwwww" and rushed to the bathroom to wash my face with soap thanking God silently that Leah had the sense to give Jimmy his Rabies shot!!! Alsatian puppies however cute and pampered enough to be given the family surname still need to be vaccinated. But *sigh* he was chooooo cute.

( And pssst all you south Indian gals out there who are getting ready to burn my effigy, please note I was speaking for the majority here. I know there are a minority of you out there with a BF, but I will bet my D'damas diamond pendent that your Amma doesn't know about it hah!!!!!)

Wokay back to the "avial" class....*sigh*!

Jimmy Varghese looked somewhat like this. Pix courtesy Corbis

Shepherdessing the frocks err... flocks

Recently I read this amazing post by a guy blogger describing the various methods he and his friends employed to ‘cheat’ during exams. I was awestruck at the intricate art of copying that this gentleman had perfected and if I meet this guy I am definitely gonna ask him his autograph. Anyone who succeeds in ‘copying’ in exams has my full respect! I have always looked upon ‘cheaters’ (pardon the term) as the ULTIMATE risk takers. Hats off to all you ‘cheaters’ out there, past and present.

The post forced me to think of my rather shameful record in ‘cheating’. I am afraid if cheating were a subject in school I would still fail! :( Now peoples, this was not because I was too honest and all that. Absolutely not!!! I was as crooked as the next girl or boy. It’s just that I studied in a convent school…and convent schools are no place to mess around with venial, mortal or other kinda sins. I mean you can sin, but if you are caught… then even God almighty cannot help you!

Sister Principal (spotting a student wearing nail polish): Come here young lady!!!!
Girl: OH MY GOD! I am in big trouble! *sob*
God (appearing from nowhere): You called me dear?
Sister Principal to God: And who gave you the permission to walk into my office without permission????
*God disappears in a trice*!

Believe me folks; girls who have studied in convents will laugh at the situation I have presented here. They would sneer and say that God got off too easily. In real life, things would be very unpleasant indeed.

Sister Principal to God: You come right back here Gentleman!
*God appears back in a trice trembling*
Sister Principal: And who gave you the permission to leave my office?
God: *gulp*
Sister Principal: And for that act of disobedience write “I shall knock before I enter the Principals office” a thousand times. And…. NO CHEATING!!!!
God (hurriedly cancelling the spell that writes the imposition magically): *gulp* Yes sister.


Now a word about convent schools before we proceed any further. Convent schools for girls are hallowed Institutions where girls are trained in the rather difficult subject of being “good girls”. In fact each convent school thinks that they are tops in churning out the best girls in town.

Sister Principal of St Mary’s Convent School: My girls are the best. By the time they pass out, they don’t even look at a guy, let alone acknowledge them.
Sister Principal of St Agnes School: My girls are better! By the time they pass out they don’t even know what a guy is!!!
Sister Principal of St Teresa’s: *sneer* Big deal!!! By the time my girls pass out they don’t even know they are girls! Hah!!! I win!!

( There are exceptions too, like me but that was because I was too busy bunking classes!)

Anyways to get back to our narration about cheating, the first time I cheated was in primary school. It was art exam day and the teacher told us to do a “landscape”. Not having a clue as to what a ‘landscape’ was, I peeped into my neighbor’s drawing board for some ‘inspiration’, a little bit of ‘internalization’ and a dash of ‘plagiarization’ and was promptly caught and hauled to Sister Principals’ office for ‘cheating’.

Sister Principal looked at me with a pained expression and asked. “Do you know how ashamed Jesus is of your misdemeanors?” I had no clue! “Look!!!” she said pointing a quivering hand at the Cross that hung on the wall behind her desk. “Look how ashamed Jesus looks!” I looked up with great interest. Jesus did look very ashamed of me. He was hanging his head in shame (something I had not noticed before). I could almost imagine the trouble he got into because of me!

God: hmmmph!!!! Look at your ward, silverine! She was caught cheating!!
Jesus: *sigh* Please forgive her dear God for she knew not her portions!
God: I am giving you one more chance. If she makes one more trespass I will have to remove her file from you and give it to St Michael the demon slayer.
Jesus: Thank you God you are so kind. I promise you she will never sin again.
God: *grumble* This is giving me a headache!

I gulped as I thought of the horrific painting of St Michael or some saint that hung in my ancestral house in Kerala. It showed a fearsome man atop a horse slaying what looked like an endangered animal. I could almost imagine my plight in St Michael’s charge.

St Michael (flexing his muscles and doing sit ups): Now look here young lady I am a very busy saint.
Me: Yes Sir!
St Michael: I rid the world of all the demons.
Me: Yes Sir!
St Michael: Don’t create unnecessary work for me understood?
Me: Yes Sir!!
St Michael: You make one mistake and I will eliminate you in a fake demon encounter understood?
Me: Yes Sir!!!
St Michael: “fake demon encounter!!”, Hah! That was a good one heh heh

I was a good girl after that for some time, till tragedy in the name of secondary school struck! It was History exam day.

Me (looking at the question paper): Wotszis Battle of Panipat!!!
Long suffering history teacher: If you remember dear, it was taught in September!
Me: Really? I don’t remember!
Teacher (gently): It was the day you and Nina and Natasha were talking about Shah Rukh Khan’s biceps.
Me: Yes!!! I remember now!
Teacher: *sigh*

Another ‘inspirational’ peep and I was hauled up, yet again in front of Princi. Now Secondary School had another Princi. This lady would have been the person Hitler could have consulted for all his ‘disciplinary needs” had he been alive today.


Hitler: *grumble* Reverend Sister, these prisoners of mine are such a disobedient lot!!! They won’t stand in line in front of the firing squad.
Reverend Sister: *beatific smile* Don’t worry dear, I have tamed worse. After all I am the Principal of a Convent School!
Hitler: So what!
Reverend Sister to prisoners: Now all those people who don’t stand in line will have to say 25 ‘Hail Mary’s’ and 30 ‘Our Fathers’ and 45 ‘I Believes’!
*Stamped as people run to get in line*
Hitler: Wow!!!!

(Situation above mentioned for descriptive purpose only. No offense meant to anyone please.)

I shall not get into the nitty gritty of my meeting with this Princi folks, but I never ‘cheated’ again after that.

But hey you know what? I know the entire Bible by heart and it took me “only” 2 years to finish writing it down as imposition for 'cheating'.