Monday, February 25, 2008

Cacophony Villa

It’s been three weeks since my err...accident and the finger has healed well. The recuperation period was a memorable time and it was nice to show the finger to all and sundry and get away with it. Jokes abounded in the office about the origin of the injury, which I dismissed as the ramblings of very sick and perverted minds. But I now look at my colleagues with a new disrespect.

According to my bro, it would have healed faster if I had let him bang it with a hammer. I told him that I would definitely try it out as long as I can do the same with his head. Sadly he declined.

Anyways this whole experience bought home the fact rather forcefully that I have such a wonderful and supportive family...when we are not bickering. In fact we are so perfect that we should be bronzed err...strike that out. That would be painful. But the fact is that we are a picture perfect family in every sense of the word. See for yourself!

A family that prays together stays together.

Dad: Jesus Christ!!! Look at the Sensex today!!
Mom: Ente daivame!! The price of fish these days is atrocious!!
Second bro M: O M G!!! Look at that babe err I mean Sania Mirza.
Eldest bro G: For the love of God has anyone seen my black and white striped shirt?
Me: Holy Mother of God I am late again!!!!!

A family that eats together stays together.

Dad: *ugh* sambhar again?
M: *ugh* pavakkai!!
Me: pavakkai!! Yumm!
G: Has anyone seen my black formal pants?
Mom: People who do not like the food cooked here can eat at the Darshini down the road hmmph!

A family that plays together stays together.

Dad: Ace! I win again!
M: Not so fast, I finished before you.
Me: He cheated achcha. I saw him keeping some cards under his legs.
G: Has anyone seen my shoes I picked up from Singapore?
Me: If I knew how to cheat I would win too! :(
Mom: Why can’t we play without cheating like other families!!!

A family that talks together stays together.

Dad: I think tax exemption limit may be raised in the budget!
Mom: I heard Mariamma’s third daughter is getting married to James second son.
M: Wowie!! Look at those err I mean Maria Sharapova plays well.
Me: I am going to shave my head and then elope with Laloo Prasad Yadav!!
G (plaintively): Has anyone seen my black tie?
M: For gods sake stop whining. You will find your stuff in my cupboard.
Me: See!! I knew it!! No one listens to me !
G: *whew* Thank you! I was afraid I left it behind at the hotel!
M: And don’t mess up my cupboard*!!!

* Something so messed up that even God cannot make it worse.

And so what was I saying!? Something about us being the picture perfect family …yeah sure...if the picture was made by a spastic color blind bat! :)

Have a nice week everyone!

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Family diplomacy

I like Christmas because it does not have an anti climax like Easter. After the grand Easter lunch and the burp, the festivity abruptly comes to an end and you go back to gorging on all those things you gave up for Lent (a 40 day upwaas).

Christmas on the other hand is followed by visits to all the families in the family and this is the only period of time that no one forces you to eat their Christmas delicacy, which tastes exactly the same as the one served in the 77 families you visited before. Everyone knows that you are visiting relations and hence stuffed, though they don’t know that you gave the same excuse to everyone…that the last house stuffed you to the gills. A very happy situation for all leading to a lot of unnecessary laughter, lies and confessions in church.

Me: Forgive me father for I have sinned.
Priest: And what did you do.
Me: I told my aunt that her Cake tasted great. It sucked big time.
Priest: hmmmm
Me: I told Jose that his Christmas Crib was an engineering miracle. It was a miracle it stood up for three whole seconds.
Priest: hmmmmmm
Me: I told Kurian uncle that his wine was awesome. It was so sour that milk curdled a mile way from it.
Priest: *snort* For Gods sake tell me something new!!!

Apart from visiting relations and telling a whole lot of lies like how you ate so much and cannot therefore even drink tea but if it is Scotch it is okay, you have to go through an ancient achayan ritual called “Christmas Crib seeing.” It is quite like Bride Seeing but quite unlike it too. I know it sounds confusing but then that’s how it is.

Normally the boy kids in the family make the Christmas Crib that his family is so proud of. The famous mallu sarcasm vanishes when it comes to your kids and hence most of our Christmas cribs are errr well….horrible!

“Look at the crib Jojo has made!!” exclaimed Jojo’s mother proudly. I looked around the room. There were several sacks of pepper or nutmeg I am not so sure. And several stacks of rubber sheets, a tractor blade and some other stuff. But no crib.

“err Jojo why don’t you tell me something about your Christmas crib” I said hoping Jojo will then point me in the direction of the crib.

Jojo the practical boy he is and having learnt from the visits of other visiting relations, who were not close enough to hold their sarcastic tongue, pointed in the direction of what looked like an Alien nest in the corner of the room. I recoiled in horror. Jojo flinched. I felt bad.

“This is sooooo amazing Jojo” I said truthfully. It was indeed amazing. It was just like those Alien eggs/nest in the movie Alien. I looked fearfully for signs of movement in the egg/nest in case I have to make a dash for it. But all was calm in the nest/egg. Jojo parted the egg/nest to show me the Christmas figurines inside. I was so relieved that I smiled. Jojo mistook it for amazement. I didn’t contradict him.Considering the fact that my mother had bought another horrible gift for him that he will promptly give away to the Parish Charity sale, this was the least I could do for him.

The next house was no better.
“Look!!” exclaimed Jojan’s mother.
“Look at the crib Jojan has made” She said beaming.
I stood in the garden and looked at every tree, bush and creeper. But no crib.
“err Jojan why don’t you tell me something about your Christmas crib” I said hoping Jojan will then point me in the direction of the crib. Now Jojan is 6 years old and three feet high and hence sarcasm goes over his head. But he has his own bit of 6 year old sarcasm.
Chechi. You show me the crib!” he says cockily.
Chechide bestest muththalle nee! Show me the Crib da.” I plead.
“No” he says adamantly.
“Ok! I will give you a Chocolate.” I wager in hope.
“Make it a Toblerone 'and' you take back that Cadbury Chocolate your amma gave me and we have a deal”.
“Sigh… deal”

Then Jojan proceeded to show me some shreds of pink wrapping paper the kind jewelers wrap gold jewelery in, wrapped around three pots of Crotons. Sitting precariously over the pots edges were the Holy Family and the entire denizens of Bethlehem. I heaved a sigh of relief. I have never been so happy to see a Christmas Crib!!! Imagine if Jojan had quizzed me in front of the entire family!! I could have gone around his house and the 100 acres of rubber estate with a fine tooth comb and still not found the Christmas Crib! Jojan’s mom would have hated me and his Dad would have hated me and then doubted his son’s paternity!!! (He comes from a family of champion Crib makers you see) A tragedy averted by some quick thinking by yours truly!!

The next house was next ….obviously.

“Look” exclaimed Blessy’s mother. I groaned. “Look at the crib Blessy has made” She said. I looked around the hall and then looked at Blessy standing prim and proper like a good little 6 year old girl.

“Blessy sweety why don’t you tell me something about your Christmas crib” I said hoping Blessy will point me in the direction of the Crib. Tears filled Blessy’s big brown eyes. I panicked. Maybe I am standing on her crib or perhaps sitting on it or perhaps I have accidentally eaten it. A whole lot of horrible possibilities rushed into my mind. As I wondered how I could possibly make up to my niece for destroying her Crib, her mom walks in, removes an A 4 sheet of paper stuck on the wall and shows it to me proudly. On the paper, sketched in childish hands was a horribly deformed buffalo with a tumor, though which one was which I couldn’t quite make out. Besides the tumored buffalo was a blue Amoeba and beside the blue Amoeba was what looked like a peanut. The tumored Buffalo pointed out Blessy’s mom, was Joseph. The blue Amoeba was Mother Mary and the peanut was Baby Jesus.

We told a whole lot of lies that day.

Kindly ignore first paragraph, written due to author’s extreme short memory which was refreshed after writing this post. Give me Easter any day!!

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Kahani mein twist

The times around us are a changing, or they have changed. And we who sit and work in glass houses are not aware of the passing of time in the world outside. Or so I feel sometimes. An incident that happened the other day reinforced the belief.

Location: M.G Road, Bangalore.
Protagonists: Three olde friends, Amit, Alok, a very handsome mallu dude John Abraham and Yours Truly (all names changed except Amit, Alok and Yours Truly’s)
Antagonists: Three other people who thought they were the Protagonists: Read on and you will know.

Amit is getting married. Amit, Alok and John Abraham, decide to go shopping for the wedding with the expert advice and counseling of Yours Truly. Yours truly was drafted in so that the bride to be doesn’t walk out of the vivaah pandal in a huff when she sees the horrible sherwani the dulha has landed up in.

Pandit performing the wedding ritual: Kanya ko lao!
Bride: Nahiiiin! Yeh shaadi nahin ho sakthi!!
Bridegroom: *gasp*
Bride’s parents: *gasp*
Bridegrooms parents: *gasp*
Pandit: Kyon beti?
Bride (pointing an accusing finger at the groom) : Look at his Sherwani!!!!
Everyone: *gasp*

Yours Truly is late as usual and Amit and Alok go inside this designer boutique. John Abraham hangs around outside admiring the statuesque female mannequin’s on display in the showcase. He is unable to tear his eyes away from a particularly hot plastic number who is wearing a diaphanous saree and nothing else….inside. He is oblivious to the hustle and bustle and noise and activity of M.G Road behind him.

Unknown to John Abraham *input uneasy music here*, he was being keenly observed by an excited gaggle of very interested eyes. As they blushed and giggled and debated amongst themselves on the best way possible to approach him, sweep him off his feet and then live happily ever after…the spoiler, the villain of the piece, the haddi mein kabab a.k.a Yours Truly, lands up at the scene. She takes one look at John, clicks her tongue in disapproval at the vital learning experience that he is missing and drags him protesting into the Boutique. She isn’t letting him off the shopping hook.

Consternation, heart break, chagrin, rage and seething jealousy amongst John’s pretty admirers. Before the very handsome mallu dude and Yours Truly could truly comprehend what was happening, an admirer of John walks brusquely past, deliberately brushing against Yours Truly! Yours truly takes off in great speed on a trajectory towards the road and John, Amit and Alok, now out of the boutique manage to catch her before she falls on the busy road. Yours truly is shaken and stirred and very bemused. The guys are incensed.

A quick assessment of the situation and Yours Truly starts rolling on the kerb laughing her guts out. The men are not amused. Then Amit starts giggling, followed by Alok. Soon both join me on the kerb. John is seething with rage.

The reason? *drum rolls* The person who had tried to kill Yours Truly was a young guy!!!

Summary of the plot: The jealousy of the male sex of alternative sexuality is no different from that of us gals. Cho chweeeet!!!

Welcome to the sistahood bro! *hugs* :p

p.s Nowadays when the protagonists get together, Yours Truly sports a tee that says “He is not my boyfriend” with an arrow pointing either side. One never knows which side John Abrahm will walk on. I am not taking any more chances with my life and limb brrr

(Johnny boy. I know you are reading this muahahAHAHAHAHA!!! And to you and your Valentines, I dedicate the best song in the world, the ultimate romance number. Yenjoy!!!!)

Saturday, February 09, 2008

The Y Not Generation

The apple of my eye, my god child Ashwini is visiting today. Like most 8 year olds, she is a wannabe Air Hostess and wants to marry Harry Potter and then divorce him for Sean Kingston.

Me: Ashwini please get me a glass of water sweety!
Ashwini: No!
Me: Pleeaaase!
Ashwini: No!!!
Me: Ayye! How are you going to become an Air Hostess with this attitude?
Ashwini: I am going to be an Indian Airlines Air Hostess *hmmpph*

This kid sure has her fundas right I must say. Why get paid to be nice when you can get paid for not being nice right? Bravo just made your Godma so proud!

This is my 200th post here. Dedicating it to your spirit :)

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Death by chocolate cake and achappams

In the good old days, food was the ultimate gift to one’s guests because food was scarce and offering food, especially the costly variety like sweets was considered the epitome of hospitality. Things have changed now. People do not wait for a special day to kill their best hen. All one has to do is walk to the shop next door and pick up one, cleaned and (un)dressed. Though times have changed, my relatives back in Kerala haven’t. They still think that feeding me till I have food coming out of my ears is showing their love and affection.

Aundy: Anjuuuuuuu how are you? *muah* *muah* *hug* *hug* See what all I made for you. Here eat some appam. *stuffs it into my mouth*
Me: Bang u!
Aundy: And here taste my achappam!
Me: dhat mas ghery tice
Aundy: Aiyyo you haven’t touched the cake!!! Here open your mouth!
Me: *gag* Bhi hink hi bad rehuff!!!
Aundy: When you were so little I used to feed you and you used to puke on my lap. So sweet you were. Here eat this murukku.
Me: *puke*
Aundy: Cho chweet!! Never mind mole. I will make you my naadan (traditional) mutton soup. Will cure your puking for good.
Me: !!!!!!!!!
Aundy: And while you are waiting for the soup I will pack you some snacks. You are going to Susans aunty's house next no? You will feel hungry on the way!

Susan aunty lives next door!

Me: (bolting for the door) : Aarrrggghhh!!!

That’s it!!! I have reached the end of the tether. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. As of today I suffer from Diabetes, High Cholesterol, Alzheimer,Cardiac Infarction and oh yes…. Angina Pectoris (hope that is a disease), that necessitates strict diet control. I know no one will marry me now, but then what the heck, you win some and you lose some.

It’s a win-win kinda situation I thunk! *GRIN*

Friday, February 01, 2008

My bad!

"My Bad!"

What a handy pair of words! I use it extensively.Works all the time for me.

Hey da, that girl is not Swetha from Sales.
My bad!

You gave me the wrong artwork!
My bad!

You gave the wrong copy to the ad agency!
My bad!

Hope you sent your aunt the Birthday Card.
My bad...amma!

Correction: Doesn't work all the time. My bad!