Weekends are glorious periods of inactivity for me. I don’t even exercise my vocal cords these two days. One blink of an eye means "Yes" two means “No”. When my Mom asks "so you will be spending the day in bed reading?" I blink once and when she asks "would you please clean your room?" I will blink twice to indicate a "No" and when she asks "are you going to feed the dogs or shall I send them to the SPCA?" I flutter my eyelashes several times in alarm, jump out of the bed in a trice with a "noooooooooo" and rush out to feed them. (There are some exceptions in life you see) You do not want your darling doggies to be given to the SPCA who will place them with some strange family who will love them and feed them on time do you? ( They will miss me so much *snifff*)
This Saturday, besides the usual casual threats, which I ignore if it doesn’t have anything to do with my doggies like "I will burn down your cupboard if you don’t rearrange it" etc. she said something that made me widen my eyes in alarm and gasp in horror like those heroines in Ramsey Brother movies when they see the awful make up of the ghost. Apparently my aunt was leaving her 13 year old teenager, Miss Deepa Ann Varghese (DAV) with us for the day. Now...Miss DAV and me are as fond of each other as my doggie Brandy and the neighbor’s cat. (and that is a lot of hate believe me.)
I will not get into the history behind the saga of mutual loathing and pure hatred between Miss DAV and me, but after my last encounter with her I have been praying very fervently and earnestly and sincerely to God that by the time I marry and have a daughter and she grows up to be a teenager, they would have invented a device that would enable parents to fast forward their child’s development, skipping a few years here and there. And no prizes for guessing which would be the years I would be skipping. (And thank you God that my mom didn’t have such a device, I owe you one).
Today, I also developed a newfound respect for my aunt, the mother of this abomination err…child who has remained sane all these years while I went batty in the few hours that I chaperoned her daughter. Anyways folks, the good news is that I survived the day….mainly due to some quick thinking ….several muffled expletives besides helluva lot of slow counting from 1 to 20,000. Today I also discovered that I have sadistic tendencies …more of that later... *evil mirthless grin*
In the morning, my second brother suddenly developed an acute condition called "Cricket practice" and walked out of the house rather he dived out of the window and pole vaulted across the compound wall and was gone before I could say "nandrolone" but not before throwing a triumphant grin in my direction. While I was wondering what that was all about, my mom dropped the bombshell. Apparently Miss DAV and her friends had to go the Mall urgently for some important shopping, like checking out the free make up and perfumes and giggling hysterically and shoving each other when they saw guys and since my brother had Cricket practice, I had to drop and pick them up. I shall not enunciate the epithets that flew fluently from my mouth towards my brothers retreating back (because I know only three).
By 9:30 am, Miss DAV was ready. By ready I mean, she looked like somebody had blackened her eyes (black eye shadows), bloodied her lips (blood red lipstick) and yanked her hair out (latest electro static cut). I looked at her and realized that if it hadn’t been for the big mole on her right hand there would be no way I could identify her as Miss DAV. As she waited for me to reverse the car out of the garage I could hear her talking to a similarly attired friend at the other end of the phone.
You should see her cosmetic collection, bleah!
and
OMG she uses a comb *snigger*”
and
She actually wears her pants around her waist *sneer*
etc.
Ignoring her and the strong urge to run the car over her again and again till the insolent smirk was wiped into the driveway I drove out of the house. The better part of the morning was spent trying to find "the house near the florist on Ring Road" and "the red brick house with a dent on the gate on Residency Road" and "the bakery next to Johnson Market because I am thirsty and need a Coke." In short, Miss DAV didn’t have any addresses. I clenched the steering wheel a little too tightly as I saw my precious Saturday vanish in a puff of Lakme Matt Silk Face Powder that Miss DAV was dabbing on her nose from time to time. Luckily she had the phone numbers and so I talked to the various Mrs Josephs, Mrs Gowda’s, a Mrs D’souza’s and a Miss Jenny (a Dad’s secretary) and got to the houses and picked up the little misses.
I looked at them in the rear view mirror. They all looked like battered victims of domestic violence with black and blue and red faces. They were in turn looking at me like I was a beggar with sores. Soon there was a lot of nudging and giggling and "keep quite, she will hear" and "look at her clothes" etc in the backseat and that is when the sadistic tendencies in me first raised its delightful head. I looked at them and felt a strange urge to drag them to the municipal water tap, wash their make up and then drop them off makeupless at the Mall ( do I hear gasps of pure delight from parents?…Didn’t I tell you I found the hidden sadist in me?).
The thought was so sadistically satisfying that I didn’t realize that I had an evil grin on my face. The girls were looking at me rolling their eyes and I had that good ol feeling of sadism rising within me again. This time I wanted to take a bottle of coconut oil and smear their hair with oil and then leave them in the Mall (Do I hear applause? Parents I told you stick around and you will learn more).
Then one of them spotted my ‘old fashioned’ Estelle bracelet and nudged the others and they collapsed giggling. By this time I had had enough and something snapped within me. You seen those horror movies when the gal sits in the car and suddenly the car doors get locked and then the camera moves away from the car and you hear blood curdling screams and then deathly silence? *heh heh*
I closed the SUV doors with the central locking system and searched in the glove compartment and found what I was looking for. Something that could inflict pain of the worst kind that would have the victim begging for death. Something the driver kept in the glove compartment in case of emergencies. I put the CD player on to drown out the screams of my to-be victims and then inserted the CD. Then I put the music on in full volume and watched the smug expressions turn to uneasiness, alarm and then pure horror, as Himesh Reshamiyya belted out “oooo huzoor tera tera tera suroooooor!!!!” Their screams were drowned out in the sheer nasal croon. I played Aapka Suroor Volume One through to Volume Two while the car crawled at 40 kmph. There was no escape…the car doors were locked.
45 minutes later, I dumped their lifeless bodies in front of the Mall.
In the evening when I went to pick them up, they were very very quiet and well behaved and the return journey was peaceful with a lot of respect shown towards the 'geriatric' driver. Just the way I like teenagers to be. *muahAHAHAHAHA*
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Friday, November 03, 2006
Friday dhamaka
One of the funniest things I have seen in a long while.
I am standing on the main road waiting for the company bus to come. A tempo with a driver and a young ‘cleaner’ come and park beside me. The driver gets down, says something to the ‘cleaner’ in Malayalam and vanishes somewhere. The ‘cleaner’ primps and preens as he spots me and another gal who has joined me. Then he decides that he should do something additional to impress. So he gets behind the wheel and reverses the tempo. He loses control and perhaps in panic keeps his legs on the accelerator. The tempo reverses in a wide arc in top speed mowing down some motorcycles, a culvert, a hoarding and still in top speed reverses into a house smashing the gate. All in a matter of a few seconds.
I collapse laughing.
What a way to start a Friday!!!!
Life is good!!
Damages: A few thousand rupees.
The look on the ‘cleaner's’ face: Priceless!!
I am standing on the main road waiting for the company bus to come. A tempo with a driver and a young ‘cleaner’ come and park beside me. The driver gets down, says something to the ‘cleaner’ in Malayalam and vanishes somewhere. The ‘cleaner’ primps and preens as he spots me and another gal who has joined me. Then he decides that he should do something additional to impress. So he gets behind the wheel and reverses the tempo. He loses control and perhaps in panic keeps his legs on the accelerator. The tempo reverses in a wide arc in top speed mowing down some motorcycles, a culvert, a hoarding and still in top speed reverses into a house smashing the gate. All in a matter of a few seconds.
I collapse laughing.
What a way to start a Friday!!!!
Life is good!!
Damages: A few thousand rupees.
The look on the ‘cleaner's’ face: Priceless!!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
When cupid strikes and misses
From time immemorial, guys have used every possible method to catch the attention of the gals they fancy. Some are unique, some are not. Of course there are the suave and smooth guys who have no problems in charming the gals off their feet.
On the other hand you have guys who have no clue on how to approach a gal or are too shy and often end up making fools of themselves. I shall give a few examples of the second type of guys and their tactics that I have encountered over the years.
The Romantic Stalker: This type is usually found on a bike, hovering around the bus stand around the same time your bus is due to arrive. He will be hovering around when your college bus drops you off in the evening too. Will comb his hair and preen in the bike mirror from time to time. He will follow you home in his bike and then turn it gracefully around the moment you enter the gate and vanish in a trice.
Rating: Harmless
The Bus Stand Romeo: This type waits at your bus stop. You ignore him. He doesn’t mind. He knows when your college bus arrives and departs and may be found checking his watch anxiously if you are a trifle late. He looks at you askance when you finally arrive at the bus stand with an expression that says “where were you all this time?”. Any moment you feel he may lift his feet like a dog and pee on the lamp post closest to you, to mark his territory.
Rating: Annoying but harmless
The Phone Romeo: This type has no self confidence but considers himself in lurve. So his friends will jump into the fray to help him out by getting your phone number using sisters or GF’s studying in your college.
Him: Hello?
Me: Yes?
Him: um…errr…. (whispers heard in the background like “ask her her name” etc.)
Him: err….my name is Prasad (muffled curses in the background from friends)
Me: Yes, Mr. Prasad?
(muffled directions being given in the background like “ask her her name you dolt!!!)
Him: err…what is your name?
Me: What?!?!!?
Him: *gulp* err…hmmmm….I mean what is the name of the subjects you have taken in college?
(sounds of expletives and palms slapping foreheads by the support services gathered around the Romeo).
Rating: Absolutely harmless as he will lose courage after the first attempt and the several well aimed kicks by friends who spent many an hour coaching him for this singular performance.
The Dog Loving Romeo: This type probably doesn’t know what a dog is but since he is seen you walking your dogs may do a quick read up and strategically place himself on your regular walking route.
Him: Hello…nice dog…I just love dogs.
Me: Thank you!
Him: This is a Great Dane (a big dog) isn’t it? Nice breed. I know quite a lot about them.
Me: No, this is a Lhasa Apso ( a very small dog)
Him: Oh!!!
Rating: Harmless. After loss of face he may never come back, but the effort was cute and commendable, though lacked sufficient research.
The SMS Romeo: Another poor soul with your phone number.
SMS at 12 midnight: Hi!
Me on SMS: Who is this?
Him: Guess!!! :)
Me: No idea!
Him: I was standing at the college gate in a checked shirt.
Me: Ok, I didn’t notice.
Him: Can we talk?
Me: No!
Him:?
Him: ??
Him:????
Him: ????????
Rating: Harmless if ignored. If he persists then I hand the phone over to my rather staid and sedate eldest brother. He will patiently and in a kind tone sermonize the guy about concentrating on his studies and focusing on his career and not wasting his youth etc and soon you will distinctly hear the guy snoring at the other end. There would be no more SMS after that.
The Kishore Kumar Romeo: This type has a song for every second, hour, time of the day.
As you are walking towards him: Thumko dekha tho yeh khayal aaya, zindagi dhoop tum ghana saaya.
As you come abreast: Mujse shaadi karogi, Mujse shaadi karogi.
As you pass him by: Ruk ja o jaanewaali rukjaa, mein hun raahi theri manzil ka.
Rating: Harmless and very entertaining. Uses a good mix of old and new songs and sings well, mostly unemployed, but gallant. Best ignored unless you want to accept his proposal and plan on singing “ Mera jeevan kora kaagaz kora is reh gaya” for the rest of your life.
The Love Note Romeo: This guy is a rather confident person but not confident enough to face you and tell you his feelings. He will send you a letter written in single ruled paper torn from his notebook and the content will usually be like this:
From the time I seeing you, I am loving you. You are vary butiful. I know many boys after you, but I loving you truly. I want to meet you. My name is pyarelal. I love you vary much. bye
Rating: Harmless.
The Juvenile Romeo: This type will shout out suddenly when you pass him by and the resultant attention tickles him no end. He will talk loudly, giggle, push his friends and act like a complete jerk expecting you to be impressed.
Rating: Bloody fool!!
Office Romeos: You get bumbling Romeos in the office too. I will describe some specimens from the corporate world here.
The Internal Messenger Romeo: As soon as you reach the office and switch on the computer your IM will flash a message.
Him: Good Morning!
Me: Good Morning.
Him: Breakfast kazhicho? ( had your breakfast)
Me: yep
Him: What was the menu?
Me: Sorry gotta go for a meeting, bye.
He will of course keep messaging and you minimize the window and ignore him for the rest of the day. In the evening you open the messenger and see the long monologue and reply with a “oops sorry was in a meeting whole day, going home bye” and shut down the comp.
The Traveling Romeo: Apparently…this guy is forever traveling and hence will drop by your seat often on the pretext of giving you Chocolates (from US/UK), Murukku (Chennai), Rasgulla (Kolkata) etc. You realize when you check the packet that they have been bought from Nilgiri’s Departmental Store. He keeps dropping in till you are gagging and probably throws his hand up in despair when you don’t return his affections. After which he probably writes to his mother “maa mein shaadi karne ke liye thaiiyaar hun”. You will have peace of mind for three months after which the routine starts all over again *groan* or till attrition gives you a break.
The Chocolate/Toffee Romeo: This type will leave a chocolate or a toffee in your cubicle from time to time. You try desperately to find out who he is but he is too shy to show himself. When it stops you know he is joined another company.
The Devdas Romeo: This is the silent suffering in love kind type, that hangs around your floor though his cubicle is in the next building just to get a glimpse of you. He is so miserably in love that when you are leaving the office in the evening, you can see him plastered to the window glass trying to catch a last glimpse of you. If he happens to be in the lunch que with you, then the guys standing ahead of him will, in sync move back to allow him to stand next to you which is as good as attaining ‘nirwana’ for him. If you look at him he blushes and gets nervous. You heave a sigh a relief when he joins another company. Attrition has its benefits I must say!!
The Linguist Romeo: This guy doesn’t beat around the bush.
Him: You are a Malayalee? I love Malayalam!! I have been learning the language since two months now. Will you teach me?
Me: That’s nice. So how much Malayalam do you know?
Him: I know vanakkam ( a Tamil word) and oota (a Kannada word)
Me: Those are not Malayalam words.
Him: Oh! *sheepish grin*
Won’t trouble you after being caught red handed.
These are a few examples and gals usually have their own way of dealing with them. All girls would have had a brush with at least one of these Romeos at some time or the other. If not for originality one must commend them for making the effort. And If you know of any other ‘genius methods’ guys use, feel free to use the comments section.
On the other hand you have guys who have no clue on how to approach a gal or are too shy and often end up making fools of themselves. I shall give a few examples of the second type of guys and their tactics that I have encountered over the years.
The Romantic Stalker: This type is usually found on a bike, hovering around the bus stand around the same time your bus is due to arrive. He will be hovering around when your college bus drops you off in the evening too. Will comb his hair and preen in the bike mirror from time to time. He will follow you home in his bike and then turn it gracefully around the moment you enter the gate and vanish in a trice.
Rating: Harmless
The Bus Stand Romeo: This type waits at your bus stop. You ignore him. He doesn’t mind. He knows when your college bus arrives and departs and may be found checking his watch anxiously if you are a trifle late. He looks at you askance when you finally arrive at the bus stand with an expression that says “where were you all this time?”. Any moment you feel he may lift his feet like a dog and pee on the lamp post closest to you, to mark his territory.
Rating: Annoying but harmless
The Phone Romeo: This type has no self confidence but considers himself in lurve. So his friends will jump into the fray to help him out by getting your phone number using sisters or GF’s studying in your college.
Him: Hello?
Me: Yes?
Him: um…errr…. (whispers heard in the background like “ask her her name” etc.)
Him: err….my name is Prasad (muffled curses in the background from friends)
Me: Yes, Mr. Prasad?
(muffled directions being given in the background like “ask her her name you dolt!!!)
Him: err…what is your name?
Me: What?!?!!?
Him: *gulp* err…hmmmm….I mean what is the name of the subjects you have taken in college?
(sounds of expletives and palms slapping foreheads by the support services gathered around the Romeo).
Rating: Absolutely harmless as he will lose courage after the first attempt and the several well aimed kicks by friends who spent many an hour coaching him for this singular performance.
The Dog Loving Romeo: This type probably doesn’t know what a dog is but since he is seen you walking your dogs may do a quick read up and strategically place himself on your regular walking route.
Him: Hello…nice dog…I just love dogs.
Me: Thank you!
Him: This is a Great Dane (a big dog) isn’t it? Nice breed. I know quite a lot about them.
Me: No, this is a Lhasa Apso ( a very small dog)
Him: Oh!!!
Rating: Harmless. After loss of face he may never come back, but the effort was cute and commendable, though lacked sufficient research.
The SMS Romeo: Another poor soul with your phone number.
SMS at 12 midnight: Hi!
Me on SMS: Who is this?
Him: Guess!!! :)
Me: No idea!
Him: I was standing at the college gate in a checked shirt.
Me: Ok, I didn’t notice.
Him: Can we talk?
Me: No!
Him:?
Him: ??
Him:????
Him: ????????
Rating: Harmless if ignored. If he persists then I hand the phone over to my rather staid and sedate eldest brother. He will patiently and in a kind tone sermonize the guy about concentrating on his studies and focusing on his career and not wasting his youth etc and soon you will distinctly hear the guy snoring at the other end. There would be no more SMS after that.
The Kishore Kumar Romeo: This type has a song for every second, hour, time of the day.
As you are walking towards him: Thumko dekha tho yeh khayal aaya, zindagi dhoop tum ghana saaya.
As you come abreast: Mujse shaadi karogi, Mujse shaadi karogi.
As you pass him by: Ruk ja o jaanewaali rukjaa, mein hun raahi theri manzil ka.
Rating: Harmless and very entertaining. Uses a good mix of old and new songs and sings well, mostly unemployed, but gallant. Best ignored unless you want to accept his proposal and plan on singing “ Mera jeevan kora kaagaz kora is reh gaya” for the rest of your life.
The Love Note Romeo: This guy is a rather confident person but not confident enough to face you and tell you his feelings. He will send you a letter written in single ruled paper torn from his notebook and the content will usually be like this:
From the time I seeing you, I am loving you. You are vary butiful. I know many boys after you, but I loving you truly. I want to meet you. My name is pyarelal. I love you vary much. bye
Rating: Harmless.
The Juvenile Romeo: This type will shout out suddenly when you pass him by and the resultant attention tickles him no end. He will talk loudly, giggle, push his friends and act like a complete jerk expecting you to be impressed.
Rating: Bloody fool!!
Office Romeos: You get bumbling Romeos in the office too. I will describe some specimens from the corporate world here.
The Internal Messenger Romeo: As soon as you reach the office and switch on the computer your IM will flash a message.
Him: Good Morning!
Me: Good Morning.
Him: Breakfast kazhicho? ( had your breakfast)
Me: yep
Him: What was the menu?
Me: Sorry gotta go for a meeting, bye.
He will of course keep messaging and you minimize the window and ignore him for the rest of the day. In the evening you open the messenger and see the long monologue and reply with a “oops sorry was in a meeting whole day, going home bye” and shut down the comp.
The Traveling Romeo: Apparently…this guy is forever traveling and hence will drop by your seat often on the pretext of giving you Chocolates (from US/UK), Murukku (Chennai), Rasgulla (Kolkata) etc. You realize when you check the packet that they have been bought from Nilgiri’s Departmental Store. He keeps dropping in till you are gagging and probably throws his hand up in despair when you don’t return his affections. After which he probably writes to his mother “maa mein shaadi karne ke liye thaiiyaar hun”. You will have peace of mind for three months after which the routine starts all over again *groan* or till attrition gives you a break.
The Chocolate/Toffee Romeo: This type will leave a chocolate or a toffee in your cubicle from time to time. You try desperately to find out who he is but he is too shy to show himself. When it stops you know he is joined another company.
The Devdas Romeo: This is the silent suffering in love kind type, that hangs around your floor though his cubicle is in the next building just to get a glimpse of you. He is so miserably in love that when you are leaving the office in the evening, you can see him plastered to the window glass trying to catch a last glimpse of you. If he happens to be in the lunch que with you, then the guys standing ahead of him will, in sync move back to allow him to stand next to you which is as good as attaining ‘nirwana’ for him. If you look at him he blushes and gets nervous. You heave a sigh a relief when he joins another company. Attrition has its benefits I must say!!
The Linguist Romeo: This guy doesn’t beat around the bush.
Him: You are a Malayalee? I love Malayalam!! I have been learning the language since two months now. Will you teach me?
Me: That’s nice. So how much Malayalam do you know?
Him: I know vanakkam ( a Tamil word) and oota (a Kannada word)
Me: Those are not Malayalam words.
Him: Oh! *sheepish grin*
Won’t trouble you after being caught red handed.
These are a few examples and gals usually have their own way of dealing with them. All girls would have had a brush with at least one of these Romeos at some time or the other. If not for originality one must commend them for making the effort. And If you know of any other ‘genius methods’ guys use, feel free to use the comments section.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Then & Now Part II
Today was a holiday and our cafeteria was closed so I went out for lunch with my friend. As we walked from the office towards this eating joint near a Montessori School, a car came speeding by and almost knocked me off my feet. A mom with her small child in the passenger seat drove the car. The child looked rather disappointed that his mom missed me. I am sure he has never missed anyone in his video game. I hope the lady got to knock somebody down for the child’s sake. Imagine the kid going to school and facing this.
Kid 1: My mom knocked down two guys today
Kid 2: Mine ‘just’ missed.
Kid 1 : *sneer* What a loser!!!
Kid 2: *sob*
The kid would be scarred for life I am sure, if not growing up to be a psychopath hanging around IT companies mowing down gals with access cards dangling around their necks. Grim portents indeed. We might right now be breeding, a legion of serial killers. brrr
From the look on the little guy’s face I can only imagine how tough it must be to be a mom these days. Our Moms didn’t have it this tough…except of course those teenage years the mention of which reminds my Dad and Mom of over the counter sedatives. How else would you explain the pleasant smile which never wavered when I vehemently demanded my fundamental rights to wear spaghetti strap tops, shave my legs, perm my hair, burn my books and leave school and start a Pizza joint? I am sure they were Gold Members of the Frequent Users Club run by sedative manufacturing Pharma companies, a precursor to the Frequent Flyers Club we have today, which is mostly used by parents for the very same reason.
To get back to our narrative, moms these days really have it tough, confirm the new moms in my family. Moms are no more Mrs. Joseph or Mrs. Nair or Mrs. Krishnamurthy, they are Head-Formulations, VP-QA/QC , CFO/Financial Controller, Head-Poop Cleaner, Head Purchases- Sony Playstation/X-Box/SUV/Cops, Chief- Gaming partner, Manager – Handling Embarrassing Questions like “is Dad gay because he doesn’t have a GF” etc all rolled into one. Our parents had it relatively easy. Like this instance when one of my brothers was in the first standard and saw a Sikh kid for the first time. He came home and declared that he had a girl in his class but she peed standing like him. My parents were caught on the wrong foot and spent many months trying to explain that Manjeet was a boy and not a girl. They now laugh about it uneasily.
Added to all the above, modern moms have to keep up the expectation of the children too. No more Samosa making and birthday party throwing like our moms. They have to know what an X Box is (I just learned that it is not a box marked with an X) and how to buy it in 12 easy installments. Compared to this I am sure our parents had tamer challenges. As a kindergarten kid I told my Dad that he didn’t look like a Dad…because he wasn’t fat, didn’t wear Safari suits, scratch his crotch and swear like the Punjabi uncles who came to pick up their kids. He was very hurt, but then he forgot all about it as got terribly busy trying to get me out of the habit of saying saala ullu ka patta and some other equally interesting words.
While you and me were out playing because watching DD was like being grounded, kids these days sit through F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Will and Grace after homework. Hence their IQ is much higher than yours and mine. For example they know that Will is gay and Grace is not and that Ross is not gay though he married a gay who was not gay but became gay after marrying Ross (poor Ross).
Parents today have to answer complicated questions unlike the tame questions we put before our parents.
Then: Mom where do babies come from?
Now: Mom, why did you opt for a caesarean, according to doctors report I wasn’t a breech presentation?
However after having acknowledged that parenting in todays world is tough I have to maintain that if there was an award in parenting then I would give it to one Mrs Krishnan, my brother M’s friend’s mom ! After the cake cutting and other formalities of her sons 13th birthday she told him “Pack your bags and go to M’s house. I will be right along to pick you up”. She kept her word. She was back when he reached 19 and was out of his teens.
She is a living icon for modern moms with small kids and teenagers.
Kid 1: My mom knocked down two guys today
Kid 2: Mine ‘just’ missed.
Kid 1 : *sneer* What a loser!!!
Kid 2: *sob*
The kid would be scarred for life I am sure, if not growing up to be a psychopath hanging around IT companies mowing down gals with access cards dangling around their necks. Grim portents indeed. We might right now be breeding, a legion of serial killers. brrr
From the look on the little guy’s face I can only imagine how tough it must be to be a mom these days. Our Moms didn’t have it this tough…except of course those teenage years the mention of which reminds my Dad and Mom of over the counter sedatives. How else would you explain the pleasant smile which never wavered when I vehemently demanded my fundamental rights to wear spaghetti strap tops, shave my legs, perm my hair, burn my books and leave school and start a Pizza joint? I am sure they were Gold Members of the Frequent Users Club run by sedative manufacturing Pharma companies, a precursor to the Frequent Flyers Club we have today, which is mostly used by parents for the very same reason.
To get back to our narrative, moms these days really have it tough, confirm the new moms in my family. Moms are no more Mrs. Joseph or Mrs. Nair or Mrs. Krishnamurthy, they are Head-Formulations, VP-QA/QC , CFO/Financial Controller, Head-Poop Cleaner, Head Purchases- Sony Playstation/X-Box/SUV/Cops, Chief- Gaming partner, Manager – Handling Embarrassing Questions like “is Dad gay because he doesn’t have a GF” etc all rolled into one. Our parents had it relatively easy. Like this instance when one of my brothers was in the first standard and saw a Sikh kid for the first time. He came home and declared that he had a girl in his class but she peed standing like him. My parents were caught on the wrong foot and spent many months trying to explain that Manjeet was a boy and not a girl. They now laugh about it uneasily.
Added to all the above, modern moms have to keep up the expectation of the children too. No more Samosa making and birthday party throwing like our moms. They have to know what an X Box is (I just learned that it is not a box marked with an X) and how to buy it in 12 easy installments. Compared to this I am sure our parents had tamer challenges. As a kindergarten kid I told my Dad that he didn’t look like a Dad…because he wasn’t fat, didn’t wear Safari suits, scratch his crotch and swear like the Punjabi uncles who came to pick up their kids. He was very hurt, but then he forgot all about it as got terribly busy trying to get me out of the habit of saying saala ullu ka patta and some other equally interesting words.
While you and me were out playing because watching DD was like being grounded, kids these days sit through F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Will and Grace after homework. Hence their IQ is much higher than yours and mine. For example they know that Will is gay and Grace is not and that Ross is not gay though he married a gay who was not gay but became gay after marrying Ross (poor Ross).
Parents today have to answer complicated questions unlike the tame questions we put before our parents.
Then: Mom where do babies come from?
Now: Mom, why did you opt for a caesarean, according to doctors report I wasn’t a breech presentation?
However after having acknowledged that parenting in todays world is tough I have to maintain that if there was an award in parenting then I would give it to one Mrs Krishnan, my brother M’s friend’s mom ! After the cake cutting and other formalities of her sons 13th birthday she told him “Pack your bags and go to M’s house. I will be right along to pick you up”. She kept her word. She was back when he reached 19 and was out of his teens.
She is a living icon for modern moms with small kids and teenagers.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Then & Now!
A true to life incident.
My lil cuz sis to her mom: Mom, Tarun (14 year old) has a girlfriend!!
Mom (turning to me and whispering): Thank god....that means he is straight!!!
( Apparently Moms these days are relieved even if their 8 year old has a girl friend. What a change from the past don't you think? )
My lil cuz sis to her mom: Mom, Tarun (14 year old) has a girlfriend!!
Mom (turning to me and whispering): Thank god....that means he is straight!!!
( Apparently Moms these days are relieved even if their 8 year old has a girl friend. What a change from the past don't you think? )
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Next generation automotive technology!
Today I went with my Dad to the car showroom to close his car loan. The showroom manager ushered us into his plush office and was very courteous. This is the conversation that took place after the pleasantries.
Dad: I am amazed at the technology used in this car!!!
Manager (pleased): Thank you Sir! This particular model has some high end features and you were very wise to go for it.
Dad: No, what I was trying to say is that this car never gave me any problem till the day before yesterday, but yesterday after I paid the last EMI cheque the car started rattling and shaking and showing its true colors. Amazing technology! How do you people do it? Hats off!
Dad: I am amazed at the technology used in this car!!!
Manager (pleased): Thank you Sir! This particular model has some high end features and you were very wise to go for it.
Dad: No, what I was trying to say is that this car never gave me any problem till the day before yesterday, but yesterday after I paid the last EMI cheque the car started rattling and shaking and showing its true colors. Amazing technology! How do you people do it? Hats off!
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
The search ends here...but why?
All you dumb stupid irritating people searching for stuff on the Internet, please leave my innocent, pure as driven snow blog alone. Haven’t you discovered by now that my blog does not have what you are looking for? Then why oh why do you come here for the 465th time looking for Chicken Tikka Dry? And *groan* don’t you know by now that I don’t have Airtel Recharge hacker codes, or I would be an Airtel Subscriber in sickness and health, good times and bad times till death do us part?
Since you people keep knocking on my door despite my reputation as a nice gal, I have decided to dedicate one post to all you special people, wherein I will clarify all your doubts once and for all, so that you will stop showing your ugly mugs on my Statcounter.
So listen to me carefully all you people searching for the following…I shall say this only once.
1.Livocitrizine: Take your area phone directory, the thicker the better and hit yourself really hard on the head with it. If you are still alive cos you cheated and didn’t hit yourself really really hard then open the directory, go to the Pharmacy section and take down the names of f$%#&g pharmacies in your area., open the door, use hammer if necessary, walk out of the door, go to the pharmacy and buy the f$%#^&*g Livocitrizine and then LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! Ok??????
2.Achappam: arey tere ghar mein maa behen biwi aur naukrani nahin hai kya ki mere blog par achappam khaane aatha hai? Ullu ka patta!! ( please read disclaimer about my Hindi here)
3.Mallu aunties: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78, that there are no mallu aunties here…only a mallu gal, who is an aunty to several bachcha log in the family. p.s I never tell lies when I swear on my IPod and lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78 ( at least till this shade is the rage of the season)
4.Dhanush bangalore restaurant: heh heh I know a Dhanush, but didn’t know he ran a restaurant!
[tch tch Dhanush, you could have told me. I didn’t have to find out this way!!! It’s not like I would have freeloaded off you *sniff* I am heart broken and only 20 Butter Naan with 8 plates Chicken Tikka dry from your restaurant will mend it :( ]
5.Mallu Masala: My Amma says that there is no such thing as mallu masala. Of course I asked her dumbo, who else would you think I will ask? Google?
6.Mind Curry: Sounds delicious, is it the same as Bheja Dry Fry? You can get the recipe here and if that doesn’t work I can loan you my mom. She knows 5765598 ways of frying my bheja.
7.Jiby stopped blogging: nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!!!! err...I mean as far as I know he hasn't!
8.Silverine, Bangalore, Communications: Home run!!!!! *Clap* *Clap*
Now do me a favor dear and bookmark me ok?
9.husband crossdressing sarees photos: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Frost Lipstick, Shade Name: GoldPearl Plum - 1 Ea ( the color of the season just changed), that there are no husband crossdressing sarees photos here.
10.Pennu Kaanal ritual (Bride Seeing): I am afraid some of my services are prepaid. Please send a cheque of Rs 5000/- wonly to avail of this service. Satisfaction guaranteed or your search string will be returned back to you.
Thank you, god bless you and the search engines and I pray that you find what you are looking for and leave me angelic blog alone!!
Since you people keep knocking on my door despite my reputation as a nice gal, I have decided to dedicate one post to all you special people, wherein I will clarify all your doubts once and for all, so that you will stop showing your ugly mugs on my Statcounter.
So listen to me carefully all you people searching for the following…I shall say this only once.
1.Livocitrizine: Take your area phone directory, the thicker the better and hit yourself really hard on the head with it. If you are still alive cos you cheated and didn’t hit yourself really really hard then open the directory, go to the Pharmacy section and take down the names of f$%#&g pharmacies in your area., open the door, use hammer if necessary, walk out of the door, go to the pharmacy and buy the f$%#^&*g Livocitrizine and then LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!! Ok??????
2.Achappam: arey tere ghar mein maa behen biwi aur naukrani nahin hai kya ki mere blog par achappam khaane aatha hai? Ullu ka patta!! ( please read disclaimer about my Hindi here)
3.Mallu aunties: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78, that there are no mallu aunties here…only a mallu gal, who is an aunty to several bachcha log in the family. p.s I never tell lies when I swear on my IPod and lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick, Shade Name: Teak Rose #78 ( at least till this shade is the rage of the season)
4.Dhanush bangalore restaurant: heh heh I know a Dhanush, but didn’t know he ran a restaurant!
[tch tch Dhanush, you could have told me. I didn’t have to find out this way!!! It’s not like I would have freeloaded off you *sniff* I am heart broken and only 20 Butter Naan with 8 plates Chicken Tikka dry from your restaurant will mend it :( ]
5.Mallu Masala: My Amma says that there is no such thing as mallu masala. Of course I asked her dumbo, who else would you think I will ask? Google?
6.Mind Curry: Sounds delicious, is it the same as Bheja Dry Fry? You can get the recipe here and if that doesn’t work I can loan you my mom. She knows 5765598 ways of frying my bheja.
7.Jiby stopped blogging: nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!!!! err...I mean as far as I know he hasn't!
8.Silverine, Bangalore, Communications: Home run!!!!! *Clap* *Clap*
Now do me a favor dear and bookmark me ok?
9.husband crossdressing sarees photos: I swear on all things sacred to me like my IPod, Lappie and Revlon Super Lustrous Frost Lipstick, Shade Name: GoldPearl Plum - 1 Ea ( the color of the season just changed), that there are no husband crossdressing sarees photos here.
10.Pennu Kaanal ritual (Bride Seeing): I am afraid some of my services are prepaid. Please send a cheque of Rs 5000/- wonly to avail of this service. Satisfaction guaranteed or your search string will be returned back to you.
Thank you, god bless you and the search engines and I pray that you find what you are looking for and leave me angelic blog alone!!
Friday, September 29, 2006
Close encounters of the gastric kind
My mom like most mallu moms, thinks that sleeping without dinner is some sort of a big ‘No, No’… like belly dancing and voting for communists ( the former in her scheme of things is a lesser evil). No matter what I have eaten in the evening she will not budge. Dinner is what she makes, anything else eaten outside the house is not counted. There is no point in arguing with her and so most days I will drag myself to the table half asleep, eyes closed and serve some rice onto my lap and the gravy onto my Dad’s lap, take a bite off the plate and plonk back into bed. Apparently her great great veliyammachi (grandma) would say that it was bad to sleep on an empty stomach. And in my family no one argues with my mom’s great great veliyammachi’s wisdom. She still rules our house with an iron fist like she did a couple of hundreds of years ago.
Mom: Son, finish all the food in your plate.
Son: I have had enough.
Mom: Your great great great veliyammachi used to say…..
Son: ok ok spare me the crap and I will finish the food!!!!
Mom: *contented smile of mothers in TV commercials*
Then came middle school and we started learning about the Human Anatomy in Science classes.
Teacher: The Stomach is a carnivorous organ. It can digest itself and anything ….
Me: You mean it can digest anything like the other organs too?
Teacher: Of course it can digest anything!
Me (interrupting): Oh my gawddddddd!!!!
I nearly passed out in class. After that day I never gave any problem with dinner. I had horrific visions of waking up with all my innards gone because I had slept on an empty stomach and my hungry stomach had made a meal of my internal organs.
In fact I was so scared of my stomach eating my internal organs up that during evening prayers I would wait for the time when we were allowed to say a silent prayer for our personal wishes. My prayers would be something like this.
Dear God, please keep watch over me in the night,don’t let my stomach eat me up…thank you God….oh yes please bless my dogs….and the family too. Amen.
In fact such a catastrophe nearly happened two weeks back. I was scheduled for a Pre Employment Medical Test (PET) at this swanky Diagnostic Clinic (‘nothing but the best’ said HR, with her nose in the air). And horror of horrors… they told me to come for the test on an empty stomach and 'wait for my turn'!!! The receptionist, a recent graduate from the Achumama School of Charm and Faultless English (affiliated to the Uma Bharti Finishing School ),who had clearly bunked classes when they taught about the carnivorous stomachs in school, refused to listen to my pleadings and told me to “stop this naansence, no eating till blood testing!!!”
I resignedly sat down in the waiting room to wait for my turn. It was 8 am. Now, a Diagnostic Clinic (DC) is quite a cheery place if you are pissed drunk or on pot.
Me to lady at the right: I am here for a PET. What brings you here?
Lady: Bubonic Plague
Me: How interesting.
Me to Gent on the right: And what brings you here?
Gent: Syphilis.
Me: How very interesting er…excuse me but I need to go urgently go to the other side of the road.
It was 8:30 am by now and I think my stomach was fast asleep because all was quite in the region of my stomach. Then around 9 am it woke up, yawned and looked around for food. Since none was forthcoming it sort of coughed to catch my attention. I pretended to be busy reading the list of BMTC Buses on the other side of the road. Then it started growling. I ignored it. Soon it was looking very greedily at my Liver….then at my Kidneys...then at the Intestines. ( I am pretty sure I heard it drooling).
I felt it give an experimental tug at whatever it was that was holding it in place to check if it could make a break for it. I silently thanked God for keeping it securely tethered in its place. Soon it was very hungry and angry and lunging madly at my Pancreas and Kidneys and other organs. My turn for the Blood Test was yet to come and the situation inside me was getting kind of desperate. Any moment my stomach could break free and go into a feeding frenzy. Imagine going for an ECG and finding out that you don’t have a Heart, let alone a heartbeat?!!! How embarrassing that would be!! And imagine going for a Chest X Ray and seeing a gaping hole in the ribcage?!! I would just die of shame!!
I desperately tried to remember if the Science Teacher had said anything about the stomach having teeth. I mean, if suppose my stomach was still hungry after eating my internal organs would it then chew on my bones? How inconvenient!!! I was sweating buckets by the time my turn came for the blood test. I have never been so happy to see a Hypodermic Syringe in my whole life (except that one day long time back when my brother had to take a Tetanus Shot…it was pure bliss to see him yowling.) After the Lab Assistant had removed enough blood for the blood test and to start his own Private Blood Bank, I was told to go and have breakfast at the Cafeteria in the DC and get back for the rest of the tests.
Now… a cafeteria in a Diagnostic Clinic????? Hellooooo! Who in their right senses would eat in a Cafeteria run by a Diagnostic Clinic????
Cafeteria owner to lab assistant: I am little short of mutton for the Biryani today; could you spare me some Liver?
Lab Assistant: Sure. That means I get 8 free lunches ok?
Cafeteria owner: Throw is a couple of kidneys and you have a deal.
Lab Assistant: *sigh* you drive a hard bargain. Deal!
So I said a polite thank you and beat a hasty retreat and bought myself a packet of biscuits and completed my tests. In the evening I decided that I will read up more on the Stomach so that I am not faced with such dangerous situations again. I Googled a little bit and then a little more bit and then a whole lot more and could not believe what I read!!!! Apparently the stomach has a protective lining that prevents itself from turning carnivorous!!!!!
*groan* That is twelve years of full tension for nothing. A little knowledge is a terrible terrible thing :(
Mom: Son, finish all the food in your plate.
Son: I have had enough.
Mom: Your great great great veliyammachi used to say…..
Son: ok ok spare me the crap and I will finish the food!!!!
Mom: *contented smile of mothers in TV commercials*
Then came middle school and we started learning about the Human Anatomy in Science classes.
Teacher: The Stomach is a carnivorous organ. It can digest itself and anything ….
Me: You mean it can digest anything like the other organs too?
Teacher: Of course it can digest anything!
Me (interrupting): Oh my gawddddddd!!!!
I nearly passed out in class. After that day I never gave any problem with dinner. I had horrific visions of waking up with all my innards gone because I had slept on an empty stomach and my hungry stomach had made a meal of my internal organs.
In fact I was so scared of my stomach eating my internal organs up that during evening prayers I would wait for the time when we were allowed to say a silent prayer for our personal wishes. My prayers would be something like this.
Dear God, please keep watch over me in the night,don’t let my stomach eat me up…thank you God….oh yes please bless my dogs….and the family too. Amen.
In fact such a catastrophe nearly happened two weeks back. I was scheduled for a Pre Employment Medical Test (PET) at this swanky Diagnostic Clinic (‘nothing but the best’ said HR, with her nose in the air). And horror of horrors… they told me to come for the test on an empty stomach and 'wait for my turn'!!! The receptionist, a recent graduate from the Achumama School of Charm and Faultless English (affiliated to the Uma Bharti Finishing School ),who had clearly bunked classes when they taught about the carnivorous stomachs in school, refused to listen to my pleadings and told me to “stop this naansence, no eating till blood testing!!!”
I resignedly sat down in the waiting room to wait for my turn. It was 8 am. Now, a Diagnostic Clinic (DC) is quite a cheery place if you are pissed drunk or on pot.
Me to lady at the right: I am here for a PET. What brings you here?
Lady: Bubonic Plague
Me: How interesting.
Me to Gent on the right: And what brings you here?
Gent: Syphilis.
Me: How very interesting er…excuse me but I need to go urgently go to the other side of the road.
It was 8:30 am by now and I think my stomach was fast asleep because all was quite in the region of my stomach. Then around 9 am it woke up, yawned and looked around for food. Since none was forthcoming it sort of coughed to catch my attention. I pretended to be busy reading the list of BMTC Buses on the other side of the road. Then it started growling. I ignored it. Soon it was looking very greedily at my Liver….then at my Kidneys...then at the Intestines. ( I am pretty sure I heard it drooling).
I felt it give an experimental tug at whatever it was that was holding it in place to check if it could make a break for it. I silently thanked God for keeping it securely tethered in its place. Soon it was very hungry and angry and lunging madly at my Pancreas and Kidneys and other organs. My turn for the Blood Test was yet to come and the situation inside me was getting kind of desperate. Any moment my stomach could break free and go into a feeding frenzy. Imagine going for an ECG and finding out that you don’t have a Heart, let alone a heartbeat?!!! How embarrassing that would be!! And imagine going for a Chest X Ray and seeing a gaping hole in the ribcage?!! I would just die of shame!!
I desperately tried to remember if the Science Teacher had said anything about the stomach having teeth. I mean, if suppose my stomach was still hungry after eating my internal organs would it then chew on my bones? How inconvenient!!! I was sweating buckets by the time my turn came for the blood test. I have never been so happy to see a Hypodermic Syringe in my whole life (except that one day long time back when my brother had to take a Tetanus Shot…it was pure bliss to see him yowling.) After the Lab Assistant had removed enough blood for the blood test and to start his own Private Blood Bank, I was told to go and have breakfast at the Cafeteria in the DC and get back for the rest of the tests.
Now… a cafeteria in a Diagnostic Clinic????? Hellooooo! Who in their right senses would eat in a Cafeteria run by a Diagnostic Clinic????
Cafeteria owner to lab assistant: I am little short of mutton for the Biryani today; could you spare me some Liver?
Lab Assistant: Sure. That means I get 8 free lunches ok?
Cafeteria owner: Throw is a couple of kidneys and you have a deal.
Lab Assistant: *sigh* you drive a hard bargain. Deal!
So I said a polite thank you and beat a hasty retreat and bought myself a packet of biscuits and completed my tests. In the evening I decided that I will read up more on the Stomach so that I am not faced with such dangerous situations again. I Googled a little bit and then a little more bit and then a whole lot more and could not believe what I read!!!! Apparently the stomach has a protective lining that prevents itself from turning carnivorous!!!!!
*groan* That is twelve years of full tension for nothing. A little knowledge is a terrible terrible thing :(
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Feeling the heat
Yesterday a friend and ex colleague wrote to me.
Hi,
I have just joined my new place of work. I am having fun ROTFL!!
AA
I was quite concerned by this mail. Now... AA is not prone to laughter or smiles. He is a pucca North Indian kinda guy who minds his own business and sometimes comes to office too. While we are all rolling in laughter at the punch line of some joke, AA looks like someone has just informed him of his Dad’s death. The last time he smiled was when he was stricken with a facial muscle spasm and thus could not help having a lop sided smile on his face for some time. So you will appreciate my concern and alarm for his well-being after getting the mail. Yesterday I chatted with AA over Google Talk to get to the bottom of the laughter mystery.
Me: Hi!!!!!
AA: Hiiiii! Oops
Me: What happened?!?!
AA: The curtain just caught fire *giggle*
Me: Oh my God, go and put it out.
AA: Nopes, it’s too late tra la la la la
Me: How did it happen man?
Me: I breathe fire when I open my mouth you see tee hee
Me: ha ha very funny, seriously tell me what happened.
AA: Forget it.I don’t want to burn down the house tara rum pum pum
Me: Ok, looks like you are a bit stressed, get yourself a cup of coffee and we will talk.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why?
AA: Power cut...the fans not working.
Me: So?
AA: The coffee will boil if the fan is not switched on.
Me: What???? Ok get yourself a beer then.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why???
AA: It will scald my tongue.
Me: heh heh funny fellow. I will wait, get yourself a beer and we will talk.
AA: Naah! If I remove the beer from the freezer it will boil and scald my tongue.
Me: Ok Ok I get the hint, looks like your new place of work is warm, but it can’t be that bad????
AA: *maniacal laughter* Of course it is a little warm, if it were a little more warm like 0.05 degrees more, then I could gather the computer in a bucket and flush it down the toilet.
Me: Oh my God!!!!
AA: I am sitting in a bath tub and chatting with you, you know?
Me: Wow you are having your annual bath? Heh heh
AA: *demented laughter* Verrrry funny but “No!!!!!’, this is what newcomers do here to prevent spontaneous human combustion.
Me: hmm
AA: At work we have showers over our cubicle you know?
Me: That must be to make sure you don’t doze off after lunch ha ha ha
AA: *manic giggle* No, that is to ensure that random fires that break out like when you shake hands or sneeze or brush against another person can be put out quickly.
Me: You are exaggerating right?
AA: *more maniacal laughter* yes my dear I am exaggerating, I am sitting in a bath tub chatting and my arse just got scalded because the water is beginning to heat up and you say I am exaggerating Ahahahaha ...*sniff* I have become very thin too, haven’t eaten since I came here.
Me: How come?
AA: By the time I get hold of the spoon the heat burns the food *manic guffaw*
Me: Take a nice dip in the swimming pool, it will cool your head.
AA: Can’t…
Me: Why?
AA: The water is boiling ha ha ha ha *sob*
Me: hmmm tell you what, you call up a travel agent and book yourself a holiday in Ooty or Kodai!
AA: Can’t..
Me: Why???
AA: Cause the phone melted and dripped away before I could catch it in a mug *LOUD DEMENTED LAUGHTER *
Me: hmm sounds tough man…where are you? Saudi Arabia or Kuwait.
AA: No...I am in a place called Trivandrum …
Me: OH MY GOD!!!! err…I mean I gotta go…sorry can’t help you here… bye bye
AA: Nooooooo don’t go away, helllllp, stay with me, talk with me, don’t leave me *bawwl*
I know when I am beaten. After all there is only so much I can do. If any of you Trivandrumites see a fully ablaze man sitting at the table next to you in a restaurant or at the movies or while shopping at the vegetable market you know who it is. Do say ‘Hi’ to him on my behalf. Err… avoid shaking hands with him.
( This post is dedicated to my wonderful friend and colleague AA, fast being reduced to a puddle of woes somewhere in Thiruananthapuram. Have fun man!! p.s. did I tell you that the weather in Bangalore is to die for?)
Hi,
I have just joined my new place of work. I am having fun ROTFL!!
AA
I was quite concerned by this mail. Now... AA is not prone to laughter or smiles. He is a pucca North Indian kinda guy who minds his own business and sometimes comes to office too. While we are all rolling in laughter at the punch line of some joke, AA looks like someone has just informed him of his Dad’s death. The last time he smiled was when he was stricken with a facial muscle spasm and thus could not help having a lop sided smile on his face for some time. So you will appreciate my concern and alarm for his well-being after getting the mail. Yesterday I chatted with AA over Google Talk to get to the bottom of the laughter mystery.
Me: Hi!!!!!
AA: Hiiiii! Oops
Me: What happened?!?!
AA: The curtain just caught fire *giggle*
Me: Oh my God, go and put it out.
AA: Nopes, it’s too late tra la la la la
Me: How did it happen man?
Me: I breathe fire when I open my mouth you see tee hee
Me: ha ha very funny, seriously tell me what happened.
AA: Forget it.I don’t want to burn down the house tara rum pum pum
Me: Ok, looks like you are a bit stressed, get yourself a cup of coffee and we will talk.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why?
AA: Power cut...the fans not working.
Me: So?
AA: The coffee will boil if the fan is not switched on.
Me: What???? Ok get yourself a beer then.
AA: Can’t...
Me: Why???
AA: It will scald my tongue.
Me: heh heh funny fellow. I will wait, get yourself a beer and we will talk.
AA: Naah! If I remove the beer from the freezer it will boil and scald my tongue.
Me: Ok Ok I get the hint, looks like your new place of work is warm, but it can’t be that bad????
AA: *maniacal laughter* Of course it is a little warm, if it were a little more warm like 0.05 degrees more, then I could gather the computer in a bucket and flush it down the toilet.
Me: Oh my God!!!!
AA: I am sitting in a bath tub and chatting with you, you know?
Me: Wow you are having your annual bath? Heh heh
AA: *demented laughter* Verrrry funny but “No!!!!!’, this is what newcomers do here to prevent spontaneous human combustion.
Me: hmm
AA: At work we have showers over our cubicle you know?
Me: That must be to make sure you don’t doze off after lunch ha ha ha
AA: *manic giggle* No, that is to ensure that random fires that break out like when you shake hands or sneeze or brush against another person can be put out quickly.
Me: You are exaggerating right?
AA: *more maniacal laughter* yes my dear I am exaggerating, I am sitting in a bath tub chatting and my arse just got scalded because the water is beginning to heat up and you say I am exaggerating Ahahahaha ...*sniff* I have become very thin too, haven’t eaten since I came here.
Me: How come?
AA: By the time I get hold of the spoon the heat burns the food *manic guffaw*
Me: Take a nice dip in the swimming pool, it will cool your head.
AA: Can’t…
Me: Why?
AA: The water is boiling ha ha ha ha *sob*
Me: hmmm tell you what, you call up a travel agent and book yourself a holiday in Ooty or Kodai!
AA: Can’t..
Me: Why???
AA: Cause the phone melted and dripped away before I could catch it in a mug *LOUD DEMENTED LAUGHTER *
Me: hmm sounds tough man…where are you? Saudi Arabia or Kuwait.
AA: No...I am in a place called Trivandrum …
Me: OH MY GOD!!!! err…I mean I gotta go…sorry can’t help you here… bye bye
AA: Nooooooo don’t go away, helllllp, stay with me, talk with me, don’t leave me *bawwl*
I know when I am beaten. After all there is only so much I can do. If any of you Trivandrumites see a fully ablaze man sitting at the table next to you in a restaurant or at the movies or while shopping at the vegetable market you know who it is. Do say ‘Hi’ to him on my behalf. Err… avoid shaking hands with him.
( This post is dedicated to my wonderful friend and colleague AA, fast being reduced to a puddle of woes somewhere in Thiruananthapuram. Have fun man!! p.s. did I tell you that the weather in Bangalore is to die for?)
Monday, September 18, 2006
Chip tales
The first thing I ever learned to ‘cook’ was a cake. I don’t know how I meandered into cooking amidst my busy schedule of climbing trees, dollhouses and tea parties in those tiny ceramic tea sets. My mother firmly believed that a gals place is outside the kitchen and did her best to shoo me out even if I ventured in for a drink of water. But I guess one cannot resist ones calling and mine was to make cakes. Now, my Mom is not those expert bakers who whip up delicious, flaky and multilayered cakes with one hand and batches of cookies with the other. She made simple cakes. Her idea of baking a cake was, Cake batter plus Vanilla Essence = Vanilla Cake and Cake batter plus Strawberry Essence = Strawberry Cake and Cake batter with dog hair = “ugh how did the dog fall into the cake batter!?”
And this was because we kids hated cakes. We didn’t like any form of cake, whether it was from the small bakery down the street or the fancy cake outlets like Melting Moments or Sweet Chariot. We were just not into cakes. Our birthday cakes was strictly-number-of-invitees-size-cakes and this was to avoid hiring a tempo to distribute the left overs in the neighborhood. Our birthday snaps shows parents with severely strained smiles, trying to shove the first slice down our tightly closed mouths.
We were salty potato wafer (chips) addicts. We could have potato chips as a pre breakfast snack, breakfast, after breakfast snack, pre lunch snack, lunch, after lunch snack, tea time, pre dinner snack, dinner, after dinner snack, homework snack, grounding snack etc. (We would even convert an occasion for eating it, like for an instance...a funeral snack!!)
In kindergarten while other kids bought fancy pastries we took a big bag of potato wafers. Our parents knew that the line between survival and starvation for their kids was wafer thin. At the rate at which we ate potato wafers, my Dad was sure he could save up enough money that would normally be spent on food and retire by the time he was thirty. (And then Lays entered India and he is still working)
One day the kindergarten teacher took a piece of cake from another child’s tiffin and put it into mine. She felt sorry for the poor kid whose parents could not afford to buy her anything but potato wafers. This was desecration of the worst kind and I screamed till I was blue in the face. A harried teacher explained to my Dad between tears that she was feeling bad to see me eat potato chips day in and day out like a poor tramp. My Dad nodded sympathetically and said he understood perfectly and that he and his wife were also very sad that their kids ate like tramps but there was nothing he could do till there was a potato famine or all chip makers contracted some horrible disease and died. (he lived a lot on hope those days).
When we left for family outings, we kids made sure that the we had enough potato chips for the journey, other things like parents, were secondary or not necessary at all. God forbid if in the middle of nowhere we were to run out of chips!!! The very thought sent our pediatric blood pressures shooting up. And at the rate at which we worried about the depletion of our Potato Chips stocks, we were surefire candidates for pediatric heart problems. And that is how the legend of too much salt leads to BP and heart disease originated. There is no truth to the story. Look!!! I am still alive and I have been on a salt overdose since I could pick up the crumbs from the floor (my brother was a very messy eater you see).
One week many years ago I got so much crumbs from the floor that I didn’t eat regular food for one whole week. My Dad thought I was a wonder baby and was planning to call up the Guinness Book of World Records when my Aunt got us a dog…a #$%@^@& dog that loved potato chips crumbs and zapped it up at the speed of a vacuum cleaner on a caffeine overdose, leaving poor me way down in the food chain among the creepy crawlies in the house. (Those were days of hunger, starvation and deprivation that still haunts me *sniff*)
Despite a staple diet of chips, chips and more chips we remained alive and did quite ok.
Mr. M: What do you give your children…they seem so energetic?
Dad (thinking furiously): err..hmmm they eat lots of carbohydrates (remembers that potato is carbohydrate) and err….minerals (remembers that salt is a mineral) and lots of Vitamin E (remembering that Oil has Vitamin E).
Anyway, all good things have to come an end. And so did our old eating habits and most of our parents troubles.
Today...we are a changed lot. We eat our chips with our mouths closed. We also eat most of it instead of throwing it at each other.
(While most gals munch on chocolates to get over their blues, I prefer a slice of bread spread with potato chips, smothered in mayonnaise with another slice of bread on top to chase away the darkest of my blues. The bread and the mayo is strictly optional)
And this was because we kids hated cakes. We didn’t like any form of cake, whether it was from the small bakery down the street or the fancy cake outlets like Melting Moments or Sweet Chariot. We were just not into cakes. Our birthday cakes was strictly-number-of-invitees-size-cakes and this was to avoid hiring a tempo to distribute the left overs in the neighborhood. Our birthday snaps shows parents with severely strained smiles, trying to shove the first slice down our tightly closed mouths.
We were salty potato wafer (chips) addicts. We could have potato chips as a pre breakfast snack, breakfast, after breakfast snack, pre lunch snack, lunch, after lunch snack, tea time, pre dinner snack, dinner, after dinner snack, homework snack, grounding snack etc. (We would even convert an occasion for eating it, like for an instance...a funeral snack!!)
In kindergarten while other kids bought fancy pastries we took a big bag of potato wafers. Our parents knew that the line between survival and starvation for their kids was wafer thin. At the rate at which we ate potato wafers, my Dad was sure he could save up enough money that would normally be spent on food and retire by the time he was thirty. (And then Lays entered India and he is still working)
One day the kindergarten teacher took a piece of cake from another child’s tiffin and put it into mine. She felt sorry for the poor kid whose parents could not afford to buy her anything but potato wafers. This was desecration of the worst kind and I screamed till I was blue in the face. A harried teacher explained to my Dad between tears that she was feeling bad to see me eat potato chips day in and day out like a poor tramp. My Dad nodded sympathetically and said he understood perfectly and that he and his wife were also very sad that their kids ate like tramps but there was nothing he could do till there was a potato famine or all chip makers contracted some horrible disease and died. (he lived a lot on hope those days).
When we left for family outings, we kids made sure that the we had enough potato chips for the journey, other things like parents, were secondary or not necessary at all. God forbid if in the middle of nowhere we were to run out of chips!!! The very thought sent our pediatric blood pressures shooting up. And at the rate at which we worried about the depletion of our Potato Chips stocks, we were surefire candidates for pediatric heart problems. And that is how the legend of too much salt leads to BP and heart disease originated. There is no truth to the story. Look!!! I am still alive and I have been on a salt overdose since I could pick up the crumbs from the floor (my brother was a very messy eater you see).
One week many years ago I got so much crumbs from the floor that I didn’t eat regular food for one whole week. My Dad thought I was a wonder baby and was planning to call up the Guinness Book of World Records when my Aunt got us a dog…a #$%@^@& dog that loved potato chips crumbs and zapped it up at the speed of a vacuum cleaner on a caffeine overdose, leaving poor me way down in the food chain among the creepy crawlies in the house. (Those were days of hunger, starvation and deprivation that still haunts me *sniff*)
Despite a staple diet of chips, chips and more chips we remained alive and did quite ok.
Mr. M: What do you give your children…they seem so energetic?
Dad (thinking furiously): err..hmmm they eat lots of carbohydrates (remembers that potato is carbohydrate) and err….minerals (remembers that salt is a mineral) and lots of Vitamin E (remembering that Oil has Vitamin E).
Anyway, all good things have to come an end. And so did our old eating habits and most of our parents troubles.
Today...we are a changed lot. We eat our chips with our mouths closed. We also eat most of it instead of throwing it at each other.
(While most gals munch on chocolates to get over their blues, I prefer a slice of bread spread with potato chips, smothered in mayonnaise with another slice of bread on top to chase away the darkest of my blues. The bread and the mayo is strictly optional)
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Settling in
I was actually quite depressed after leaving my last job. Everyday I fought the temptation of calling my boss and saying “I am coming back sob”. Then I reminded myself that my company has a open door policy and so I have all the time in the world to go back. Anyways even my folks thought that they should do something for me to cheer me up of the depression , made worse by the HR Team playing mournful songs at the farewell dinner. Imagine eating your food to “O jaane waale ho sake tho laut ke aana” I was trying hard to control my tears and the gulab jamoons. It was so difficult. *sniff*
Many a resignee have sobbed uncontrollably and got back to work after these farewell dinners. (Emotional blackmail is mandatory subject for HR these days). Those with low will power, make their wife/mom/sister call up and say they cannot make it to the dinner. Anyways the gifts were nice and cheered me up.
~My Mom bought me a Copper ring that she said would keep my blood pressure in the right side of the BP measuring machine (which ever side that is). So I gifted it to my new boss.
~My Dad bought me a new set of Golf Clubs. His old ones are worn out he says. (Of course I don’t play Golf but the thought was so sweet.)
~My eldest brother bought me a new bag, which I have gifted to my maid. She was so happy. She said the color was just right for her. It matched her parrot green blouse and Gelusil pink saree.
~My second brother's gift was a surprise. I am still recovering from the surprise. The doctor says it will take two whole months.
~My dog brandy bought me a dead rat….er never mind.
~My other dog Honey, puked on the bed. As a new job gift she made sure she completed the job on my moms bed. Such a nice dog.
~My other dog did me the honor of not mistaking me for a lamppost. I came to work with dry pants and not smelling like walls you see with notices like "Plis to not pas urin here".
~My old car pool fraternity also gave me a goodbye present…a comprehensive list of BMTC routes, so sweet ( err…but I don't remember telling them of the job change)
I am now almost over my old company. Though I did slip once when I saw my old company’s logo on a computer part and went *sob*. But my new boss was so understanding…he made Sysadmin change my computer configuration. I think I will be happy here.
Many a resignee have sobbed uncontrollably and got back to work after these farewell dinners. (Emotional blackmail is mandatory subject for HR these days). Those with low will power, make their wife/mom/sister call up and say they cannot make it to the dinner. Anyways the gifts were nice and cheered me up.
~My Mom bought me a Copper ring that she said would keep my blood pressure in the right side of the BP measuring machine (which ever side that is). So I gifted it to my new boss.
~My Dad bought me a new set of Golf Clubs. His old ones are worn out he says. (Of course I don’t play Golf but the thought was so sweet.)
~My eldest brother bought me a new bag, which I have gifted to my maid. She was so happy. She said the color was just right for her. It matched her parrot green blouse and Gelusil pink saree.
~My second brother's gift was a surprise. I am still recovering from the surprise. The doctor says it will take two whole months.
~My dog brandy bought me a dead rat….er never mind.
~My other dog Honey, puked on the bed. As a new job gift she made sure she completed the job on my moms bed. Such a nice dog.
~My other dog did me the honor of not mistaking me for a lamppost. I came to work with dry pants and not smelling like walls you see with notices like "Plis to not pas urin here".
~My old car pool fraternity also gave me a goodbye present…a comprehensive list of BMTC routes, so sweet ( err…but I don't remember telling them of the job change)
I am now almost over my old company. Though I did slip once when I saw my old company’s logo on a computer part and went *sob*. But my new boss was so understanding…he made Sysadmin change my computer configuration. I think I will be happy here.
Monday, September 11, 2006
It's a new day!
Change they say is inevitable except from a vending machine. So true!
Last week I went for an Interview. Yes peoples.. me is changing me job because I have reached a stage where I can come to office, pop a sleeping pill, finish the work in a slumber and then wake up all fresh and dewy at 6 pm and go home. In short…I needed a desperate change of bed er…scene.
So moiself hoisted my carcass from me comfy seat and went for an Interview. I was sick as a dog that is very sick and was hence was not in a very good mood like a dog that is very sick. Fortunately the Interview got over very fast. The last incumbent in this company left in a bit of hurry you see (he cleared the window in one dive I heard, since then they have put stronger attrition resistant glasses on the windows and doors.) So my interview was rather hurried, though very very thorough as befitting the HR practices of a big company.
Mr PP: So you married?
Me: No!
Mr PP: Boyfriend?
Me: No
Mr. PP: When can you join us?
After that exhausting and mentally draining interview, I had my second round with my to-be Boss.
Boss: I guess you have been briefed about the job.
Me: Yes!
Boss: I believe in people who work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised.
Me: Sure!
Boss: So what can you say to add value to your resume?
Me: I can work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised ?!
MK: Welcome aboard!!!
The last round, a formality was with the HR Manager.
HR: We are not any other company; we are a big name in the industry you know?
Me (muttering to myself) : Keep repeating that and you will generate enough hot hair to pack up the AC plant.
HR: Did you say something?
Me: Nopes
HR: The people working here are from premier Institutes and hence the intelligence quotient is very high.
Me: (muttering to myself) : So what are you doing here?
She (muttering to herself) :I know what you are thinking, so what am I doing here right? Chit of a girl bah!!! I hate your type and if I were 85 kgs lighter I would give you a run for your money.
Me: (muttering to myself) : If you were 85 kgs lighter you would still look like a pregnant Hippo.
Me (aloud) : Wow!!! I am impressed.
HR (aloud) : Thaaaank you… welcome to the organization, it is very nice to have you with us.
Me: The pleasure is all mine. (muttering to myself ) What a lot of bakras to write about, this is going to be a blogging gold mine yipeeeeee!!!!!
HR: Did you say something?
Me: No no, I am just wonderstruck at the possibilities in this company for me.
Her (tilting her head and smiling patronizingly and pinching my cheek) : Soooo sweeet. All the best deeeeeeear!
Me: (tilting my head and smiling equally patronizingly keeping my hands away from slapping her cheek) : Thaaank youu!
HR ( muttering under her breath) : Bitch!!!
Me: (muttering under my breath) : Bitch!!!!
And thus moiself sits in a new chair....... and I am feeling sleepy zzzzzzz
Good night folks...
Last week I went for an Interview. Yes peoples.. me is changing me job because I have reached a stage where I can come to office, pop a sleeping pill, finish the work in a slumber and then wake up all fresh and dewy at 6 pm and go home. In short…I needed a desperate change of bed er…scene.
So moiself hoisted my carcass from me comfy seat and went for an Interview. I was sick as a dog that is very sick and was hence was not in a very good mood like a dog that is very sick. Fortunately the Interview got over very fast. The last incumbent in this company left in a bit of hurry you see (he cleared the window in one dive I heard, since then they have put stronger attrition resistant glasses on the windows and doors.) So my interview was rather hurried, though very very thorough as befitting the HR practices of a big company.
Mr PP: So you married?
Me: No!
Mr PP: Boyfriend?
Me: No
Mr. PP: When can you join us?
After that exhausting and mentally draining interview, I had my second round with my to-be Boss.
Boss: I guess you have been briefed about the job.
Me: Yes!
Boss: I believe in people who work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised.
Me: Sure!
Boss: So what can you say to add value to your resume?
Me: I can work independently, take responsibilities, initiatives and can work unsupervised ?!
MK: Welcome aboard!!!
The last round, a formality was with the HR Manager.
HR: We are not any other company; we are a big name in the industry you know?
Me (muttering to myself) : Keep repeating that and you will generate enough hot hair to pack up the AC plant.
HR: Did you say something?
Me: Nopes
HR: The people working here are from premier Institutes and hence the intelligence quotient is very high.
Me: (muttering to myself) : So what are you doing here?
She (muttering to herself) :I know what you are thinking, so what am I doing here right? Chit of a girl bah!!! I hate your type and if I were 85 kgs lighter I would give you a run for your money.
Me: (muttering to myself) : If you were 85 kgs lighter you would still look like a pregnant Hippo.
Me (aloud) : Wow!!! I am impressed.
HR (aloud) : Thaaaank you… welcome to the organization, it is very nice to have you with us.
Me: The pleasure is all mine. (muttering to myself ) What a lot of bakras to write about, this is going to be a blogging gold mine yipeeeeee!!!!!
HR: Did you say something?
Me: No no, I am just wonderstruck at the possibilities in this company for me.
Her (tilting her head and smiling patronizingly and pinching my cheek) : Soooo sweeet. All the best deeeeeeear!
Me: (tilting my head and smiling equally patronizingly keeping my hands away from slapping her cheek) : Thaaank youu!
HR ( muttering under her breath) : Bitch!!!
Me: (muttering under my breath) : Bitch!!!!
And thus moiself sits in a new chair....... and I am feeling sleepy zzzzzzz
Good night folks...
Monday, September 04, 2006
Shooting in the dark
This year when I came back from my Nilgiris trip, I excitedly told everyone in my amateur birding group that I had seen a rare bird. “Look!!!!” I said pointing to the black speck on the photograph excitedly. Now, we amateur bird watchers are a very competitive and determined lot, full of love for birds, enthusiasm and josh.
A: I saw a Tickell's Thrush (a bird) the other day.
B: F@#k I swear if I don’t spot one by this weekend I will hunt and kill all of them f*#&ing Tickell's Thrushes.
So it was with a great deal of resentment masked by a tight smile that B took the photo and peered at it and then exclaimed with a triumphant snigger “ahem, I think, this a speck of dried butter chicken gravy”. I snatched the photo from him angrily and examined the photo. A little bit if scraping and the dried gravy came out. I looked hard and found what I thought was the bird and triumphantly showed it again to the group. But try as hard as they could they could not spot the bird. And that is when I realized that I needed to buy a new camera, one that would take pictures of birds, large enough not to be smothered by butter chicken gravy.
Till that day I had nothing to do with cameras. I was a binoculars person and knew quite a bit about them too. I scoffed at the bird photographers in our group lugging expensive camera and zoom lenses around while I skipped merrily ahead with my binoculars. Now I realized that they were not such a bunch of fools as I made them out to be. At least they could show the picture of the bird they had ‘shot’ and say “See a white cheeked barbet bird’ While I pointed to a random blot on my photograph and said “See a white cheeked barbet …I swear this is a white cheeked barbet, God promise it is a white cheeked barbet …someone please believe me *sob*’.
So I called a pal of mine who is quite a sensation as a young and upcoming wildlife photographer (YAUWP).
YAUWP: You want to buy a camera? Why…you plan to ask the birds to say ‘cheese’? HA HA HA!!
Me: Grrr er…heh heh very funny man but ‘No’. I need to prove what I have seen da. So please to help me out.
YAUWP: hmmm ok here’s the deal. To get a decent bird image, you will need a camera with a 300mm telephoto lens with a 1.4x extender. For smaller birds, a 600mm lens is required. Your camera should have manual override of automatic functions. A camera which does not let you chose the exposure and focusing point blah blah . It's also a good idea to have things like depth-of-field preview and some form of mirror lock up blah blah.
Me: Huh???? er…I mean thanks a ton da, you have been such a help, gotta go now, bye.
Him: My pleasure, do get in touch with me if you need any more help...
Me: *SLAM*
After that enlightening conversation on buying a bazooka and assembling it, I decided that I will go it alone and called the Directory Enquiry service. After telling them very reassuringly that ‘YES’ my email ID is definitely lalapaloosa @yahoo.com and ‘NO’, it is not a fictitious ID and that the last email ID, ihatespam@yahoo.com was ‘NOT’ fictitious but was suspended due to disuse etc., I managed to get a couple of Camera Shop numbers without giving out my actual email ID.
I was sure I would walk into a camera shop, pick up a nice camera and show it to Mr. YAUWP with flourish while he burnt in envy at the beautiful pictures that I had taken. So it was with such nice thoughts in my mind that I walked into this snazzy shop on Brigade Road.
Me: I want to buy a camera.
Salesman: What camera do you want?
Me: Huh? Er…something for bird photography.
Salesman: Do you want a SLR or DSLR, Pro SLR, 35mm Rangefinder, Medium Format, Large Format, Medium format rangefinder…
Me: *gulp*
Salesman (patiently): Ok I will simplify this a bit, are you looking for a Point and Shoot camera, Prosumer camera, Professional cameras or Digital video camera.
Me: er…can you simplify it a little further?
Salesman: You have no idea about cameras do you?
Me (miserably) : No.
Salesman: *sigh* Shall I suggest something?
Me (brightening up) : Sure!!!
Salesman: Why not go for a nice Binocular?
Me: @$#%@^@&
I guess I will stick to birdwatching.
A: I saw a Tickell's Thrush (a bird) the other day.
B: F@#k I swear if I don’t spot one by this weekend I will hunt and kill all of them f*#&ing Tickell's Thrushes.
So it was with a great deal of resentment masked by a tight smile that B took the photo and peered at it and then exclaimed with a triumphant snigger “ahem, I think, this a speck of dried butter chicken gravy”. I snatched the photo from him angrily and examined the photo. A little bit if scraping and the dried gravy came out. I looked hard and found what I thought was the bird and triumphantly showed it again to the group. But try as hard as they could they could not spot the bird. And that is when I realized that I needed to buy a new camera, one that would take pictures of birds, large enough not to be smothered by butter chicken gravy.
Till that day I had nothing to do with cameras. I was a binoculars person and knew quite a bit about them too. I scoffed at the bird photographers in our group lugging expensive camera and zoom lenses around while I skipped merrily ahead with my binoculars. Now I realized that they were not such a bunch of fools as I made them out to be. At least they could show the picture of the bird they had ‘shot’ and say “See a white cheeked barbet bird’ While I pointed to a random blot on my photograph and said “See a white cheeked barbet …I swear this is a white cheeked barbet, God promise it is a white cheeked barbet …someone please believe me *sob*’.
So I called a pal of mine who is quite a sensation as a young and upcoming wildlife photographer (YAUWP).
YAUWP: You want to buy a camera? Why…you plan to ask the birds to say ‘cheese’? HA HA HA!!
Me: Grrr er…heh heh very funny man but ‘No’. I need to prove what I have seen da. So please to help me out.
YAUWP: hmmm ok here’s the deal. To get a decent bird image, you will need a camera with a 300mm telephoto lens with a 1.4x extender. For smaller birds, a 600mm lens is required. Your camera should have manual override of automatic functions. A camera which does not let you chose the exposure and focusing point blah blah . It's also a good idea to have things like depth-of-field preview and some form of mirror lock up blah blah.
Me: Huh???? er…I mean thanks a ton da, you have been such a help, gotta go now, bye.
Him: My pleasure, do get in touch with me if you need any more help...
Me: *SLAM*
After that enlightening conversation on buying a bazooka and assembling it, I decided that I will go it alone and called the Directory Enquiry service. After telling them very reassuringly that ‘YES’ my email ID is definitely lalapaloosa @yahoo.com and ‘NO’, it is not a fictitious ID and that the last email ID, ihatespam@yahoo.com was ‘NOT’ fictitious but was suspended due to disuse etc., I managed to get a couple of Camera Shop numbers without giving out my actual email ID.
I was sure I would walk into a camera shop, pick up a nice camera and show it to Mr. YAUWP with flourish while he burnt in envy at the beautiful pictures that I had taken. So it was with such nice thoughts in my mind that I walked into this snazzy shop on Brigade Road.
Me: I want to buy a camera.
Salesman: What camera do you want?
Me: Huh? Er…something for bird photography.
Salesman: Do you want a SLR or DSLR, Pro SLR, 35mm Rangefinder, Medium Format, Large Format, Medium format rangefinder…
Me: *gulp*
Salesman (patiently): Ok I will simplify this a bit, are you looking for a Point and Shoot camera, Prosumer camera, Professional cameras or Digital video camera.
Me: er…can you simplify it a little further?
Salesman: You have no idea about cameras do you?
Me (miserably) : No.
Salesman: *sigh* Shall I suggest something?
Me (brightening up) : Sure!!!
Salesman: Why not go for a nice Binocular?
Me: @$#%@^@&
I guess I will stick to birdwatching.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Beery important traditions
Sunday afternoon… and as is the custom passed down to my family by our achayan (Syrian Catholics) ancestors many many many centuries ago, my Dad was having his Sunday afternoon Beer. This tradition was first started by my great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Mathai Thommachan Phillipose Abraham Kuriachan Varghese Geevarghese K. (Some people say that this tradition was started even before the invention of Beer).
Since then no men in my Dad’s family have broken this tradition except that one day, two centuries ago when there was a big rain and my great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Thomman Isaac Patros Ouseph Chacko Bartholomew Alexander Anthony K could not find his umbrella to go to the kallu shaap ( liqor store).A total of 7568587 masses were offered in 7568587 churches to appease our male ancestors for that single transgression. There was another transgression when my great great great great great great great great grandpa Aloysius Basil Cyril Emmanuel George Ignatius John K contracted Small Pox and died on a Sunday without having a Beer. Then there was yet another instance three centuries ago when my great great great great great grandpa had a severe hangover and slept through the Sunday. By the time he woke up it was already Monday but he had the Beer anyway.
The family journal maintained by my Ammachi also mentions another trespass when another great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Lukos Michael Philip Raphael Stephen Tony Zachariah K was in jail and hence was not allowed to have a Beer even though it was a Sunday. He filed a case of ‘Unimaginable Cruelty’ and the case is still pending in a lower court. (We achayans take our Sunday Beer very seriously.)
Beer has had several notable effects on our men. For example, it has served to loosen the tongue of our men who are actually a reticent and decent lot (when they have not had their Sunday Beer)
Achayan to prospective Achayathi: Ahem…hmmm…err…
Achayathi: Aiyyo!!!! Speak up man or has your mother cats got your tongue?
Achayan: Ahem…hmmm…err…
Same scenario after a Beer:
Achayan: What I was trying to say pumpkin, before I had a Beer, was that if your father is willing to give me that Rubber Estate on the hill then we can be wed in Holy Matrimony!
Achayathi: *blush*
And they lived happily ever after. (See? The power of a single Beer!?)
Anyways to get back to the narrative, this Sunday we had only one big bottle of beer in the fridge and both the brothers were not at home to share a bottle with Dad. I never drink during daytime and my Dad will have only one glass of beer. Now my Dad like a true achayan didn’t want to waste spirit, ( a sacrilege among achayans punishable by one whole hour without alcohol of any kind, even the ones doctors use to wipe your hands before injecting you with distilled water) but the tradition had to be kept alive at any cost.
So moiself in the name of all that is holy and sacred to our ancestors, agreed to split the beer with Dad (for the sake of family honor wonly, mind you!!!!)
I poured the beer into two beer glasses, but there was some left over in the bottle. So I drank that. Then I realized that the beer glasses were full and we both like our beer topped with some Sprite. So I, like a dutiful daughter took a large swig from both glasses ( to make room for the Sprite of course). I then tasted the beer and Sprite mixture, it was too strong….there was too much beer in it. So I took another large swig from both the glasses, but by now there were four glasses in front of me. I then realized what I had overlooked when I poured the beer…that we have guests in the house. So I poured some beer from the beer glasses into the new glasses and spilt a whole lot of Beer onto the table. What can I do when the two new glasses were appearing and disappearing in front of my eyes?
I tasted the beer again. It was still too strong and we, i.e Dad and me like our Beer mild. So I had another generous swig from the glasses and this time I saw 8 glasses on the table. Now I am a peace loving, M&B reading kinda girl. But I hate uninvited guests. But then back in the good old days many gene pools ago, my ancestresses, a long line of hospitable achayathis were known for their generosity and sharing spirit. (and that was because they didn't drink beer and hence did not have to share it).
So I decided that I will share the Beer with the eight uninvited guests. I poured the Beer from the two glasses that I could grasp from the table and poured it into the eight glasses...
...and it was because of this reason, that the great great great great great great great great great grandson of my great great great great great great great great great grandfather i.e my dad, committed the shameful, dreadful, appalling, shocking, grave and unforgivable trespass of not having a Beer this Sunday. *hic*
Since then no men in my Dad’s family have broken this tradition except that one day, two centuries ago when there was a big rain and my great great great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Thomman Isaac Patros Ouseph Chacko Bartholomew Alexander Anthony K could not find his umbrella to go to the kallu shaap ( liqor store).A total of 7568587 masses were offered in 7568587 churches to appease our male ancestors for that single transgression. There was another transgression when my great great great great great great great great grandpa Aloysius Basil Cyril Emmanuel George Ignatius John K contracted Small Pox and died on a Sunday without having a Beer. Then there was yet another instance three centuries ago when my great great great great great grandpa had a severe hangover and slept through the Sunday. By the time he woke up it was already Monday but he had the Beer anyway.
The family journal maintained by my Ammachi also mentions another trespass when another great great great great great great great great great great grandpa Lukos Michael Philip Raphael Stephen Tony Zachariah K was in jail and hence was not allowed to have a Beer even though it was a Sunday. He filed a case of ‘Unimaginable Cruelty’ and the case is still pending in a lower court. (We achayans take our Sunday Beer very seriously.)
Beer has had several notable effects on our men. For example, it has served to loosen the tongue of our men who are actually a reticent and decent lot (when they have not had their Sunday Beer)
Achayan to prospective Achayathi: Ahem…hmmm…err…
Achayathi: Aiyyo!!!! Speak up man or has your mother cats got your tongue?
Achayan: Ahem…hmmm…err…
Same scenario after a Beer:
Achayan: What I was trying to say pumpkin, before I had a Beer, was that if your father is willing to give me that Rubber Estate on the hill then we can be wed in Holy Matrimony!
Achayathi: *blush*
And they lived happily ever after. (See? The power of a single Beer!?)
Anyways to get back to the narrative, this Sunday we had only one big bottle of beer in the fridge and both the brothers were not at home to share a bottle with Dad. I never drink during daytime and my Dad will have only one glass of beer. Now my Dad like a true achayan didn’t want to waste spirit, ( a sacrilege among achayans punishable by one whole hour without alcohol of any kind, even the ones doctors use to wipe your hands before injecting you with distilled water) but the tradition had to be kept alive at any cost.
So moiself in the name of all that is holy and sacred to our ancestors, agreed to split the beer with Dad (for the sake of family honor wonly, mind you!!!!)
I poured the beer into two beer glasses, but there was some left over in the bottle. So I drank that. Then I realized that the beer glasses were full and we both like our beer topped with some Sprite. So I, like a dutiful daughter took a large swig from both glasses ( to make room for the Sprite of course). I then tasted the beer and Sprite mixture, it was too strong….there was too much beer in it. So I took another large swig from both the glasses, but by now there were four glasses in front of me. I then realized what I had overlooked when I poured the beer…that we have guests in the house. So I poured some beer from the beer glasses into the new glasses and spilt a whole lot of Beer onto the table. What can I do when the two new glasses were appearing and disappearing in front of my eyes?
I tasted the beer again. It was still too strong and we, i.e Dad and me like our Beer mild. So I had another generous swig from the glasses and this time I saw 8 glasses on the table. Now I am a peace loving, M&B reading kinda girl. But I hate uninvited guests. But then back in the good old days many gene pools ago, my ancestresses, a long line of hospitable achayathis were known for their generosity and sharing spirit. (and that was because they didn't drink beer and hence did not have to share it).
So I decided that I will share the Beer with the eight uninvited guests. I poured the Beer from the two glasses that I could grasp from the table and poured it into the eight glasses...
...and it was because of this reason, that the great great great great great great great great great grandson of my great great great great great great great great great grandfather i.e my dad, committed the shameful, dreadful, appalling, shocking, grave and unforgivable trespass of not having a Beer this Sunday. *hic*
Friday, August 25, 2006
Testing times...
According to a recent news report, Medical professionals and Medical Insurance companies are at war. Apparently Insurance companies do not want to reimburse big medical bills of patients, and want doctors to prescribe less expensive treatments. This is being construed as interference by doctors who allege that Insurance companies are now advising them on treatment.
Doctor: Nurse, this patient has Brain Cancer, we will give him a Pre-Irradiation Taxol Administered as a 96 Hour Infusion followed by Irradiation 9-Amino-20(S)-Camptothecin (9-AC) Administered as a 72 Hour Infusion and in the third phase ....
Insurance man: er…..sorry to interrupt doc, but don’t you think a 'Crocin' will do just fine!?
The Insurance companies on the other hand are alleging that doctors are piling up huge bills by ordering unnecessary tests and procedures when they see that a patient has medical insurance.
Doctor to patient (gravely) : I am afraid you have Coryza ( common cold).
Patient (aghast) : Oh my God that sounds horrible!!!! *sob*
Doctor (sadly) : Yes, it is terrible!
Patient (breaking down) : No no no...
Doctor (soothingly) : There, there, all is not lost. Here is a list of tests you will have to do so that we can commence treatment immediately! Everything will be just alright after the test er...I mean treatment.
List of tests and procedures:
Abdominal MRI
Barium Enema
Cardiac Blood Pool Scan
Decompressive laminectomy for spinal stenosis
ECG
Fasting Blood Sugar Test
Gallbladder Scan
Hair transplantation surgery
Ileorectal anastomosis for ulcerative colitis
Joint X-Ray
Kidney Scan
Lactic Acid Dehydrogenase
MRI
Neck X-Ray
Obstetric Ultrasound
Paternity Test
Quick Strep Test
Radical prostatectomy
Skull X-ray
Thyroid Biopsy
Upper Gastrointestinal Endoscopy
Vasectomy reversal
Weber Test
Xylose Tolerance Test
Y ( oops no tests beginning with Y)
Z ( ditto)
Patient (looking at the list) : oh my gawwwwd I am going to die isn't it? *waaaaah*
Doctor (sadly) : I am afraid so, if I don’t have the test results quick. And *sniff* don’t forget to tell the Lab that I sent you!
Doctor: Nurse, this patient has Brain Cancer, we will give him a Pre-Irradiation Taxol Administered as a 96 Hour Infusion followed by Irradiation 9-Amino-20(S)-Camptothecin (9-AC) Administered as a 72 Hour Infusion and in the third phase ....
Insurance man: er…..sorry to interrupt doc, but don’t you think a 'Crocin' will do just fine!?
The Insurance companies on the other hand are alleging that doctors are piling up huge bills by ordering unnecessary tests and procedures when they see that a patient has medical insurance.
Doctor to patient (gravely) : I am afraid you have Coryza ( common cold).
Patient (aghast) : Oh my God that sounds horrible!!!! *sob*
Doctor (sadly) : Yes, it is terrible!
Patient (breaking down) : No no no...
Doctor (soothingly) : There, there, all is not lost. Here is a list of tests you will have to do so that we can commence treatment immediately! Everything will be just alright after the test er...I mean treatment.
List of tests and procedures:
Abdominal MRI
Barium Enema
Cardiac Blood Pool Scan
Decompressive laminectomy for spinal stenosis
ECG
Fasting Blood Sugar Test
Gallbladder Scan
Hair transplantation surgery
Ileorectal anastomosis for ulcerative colitis
Joint X-Ray
Kidney Scan
Lactic Acid Dehydrogenase
MRI
Neck X-Ray
Obstetric Ultrasound
Paternity Test
Quick Strep Test
Radical prostatectomy
Skull X-ray
Thyroid Biopsy
Upper Gastrointestinal Endoscopy
Vasectomy reversal
Weber Test
Xylose Tolerance Test
Y ( oops no tests beginning with Y)
Z ( ditto)
Patient (looking at the list) : oh my gawwwwd I am going to die isn't it? *waaaaah*
Doctor (sadly) : I am afraid so, if I don’t have the test results quick. And *sniff* don’t forget to tell the Lab that I sent you!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
A color by any other name...
Conversation in the cafeteria today:
Gal 1: Did you see that Reshmi’s salwar? What UGH color!!!
Gal 2: What color was it?
Gal 2: It is was such a horrible shade of red …dunno how to describe it.
Me: Like MS Word colors ?
Gal1: Exactly!!!
Gal 2: *ewwww* Horrible!!!!!
Gal 1: Did you see that Reshmi’s salwar? What UGH color!!!
Gal 2: What color was it?
Gal 2: It is was such a horrible shade of red …dunno how to describe it.
Me: Like MS Word colors ?
Gal1: Exactly!!!
Gal 2: *ewwww* Horrible!!!!!
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Ad-dled
Independence Day holiday was a day of great languor and tremendous inactivity and the only physical movement I made that day, was get up from the floor every time the dogs pushed me down. It’s been a long time since I watched TV and I had almost forgotten how the contraption worked. So I curled up in bed with a cup of tea and two dogs and several ticks who were actually uninvited but I couldn’t do anything about it as they were my dogs guests. The ticks were very well behaved though.
The Television or TV for short is a wonderful and entertaining device. It shows a lot of commercials, which are sometimes interrupted with a few programmes like soaps, talk shows and News. The commercials being shown these days are just “wow”. Some of the commercials I liked are given below.
Pepsi TV
Kareena Kapoor: Hello viewers, today I shall show you how dumb you all are. *giggle* Have you heard of Pepsi TV? You haven’t? Me too. *giggle* But if you watch TV while sipping Pepsi, you are all dumb.
Priyanka Chopra (smiling coyly at viewers): I second that clever observation Kareena. These people are so dumb.
Pears Pink Soap
Mother: Kids, lets show these dumb people how we dance and sing on a weekday morning when most people are rushing to work and school.
Kids: wheeeee
Dad: And watch me lounge around in white pyjamas expressing amazement at this pansy pink soap while I should be stuck in a traffic jam on the way to office but since I am a model I don’t have to.
Saffola
Wife who spots hubby eating in the park: Look at him hog pani puri while he tells me that he is out jogging!!! Grrr I will teach him a lesson, I will buy Saffola.
Husband carrying wife: Wheee, see I can carry you; you have become so light though you bought the oil for me. Thank you saffola!!!
Nestle Munch
Rani Mukherjee: See me sit on the ship and eat Munch, yummy!! Why does this guy want to stand with me like Leonardo De Caprio and Kate Winslet in Titanic? I will just push him down the ship and then throw him the lifejacket.
Kellogs Cornflakes
Mom: Rahul please show these stupid people that you know Savita maasi’s number by heart because you eat Kellogs Cornflakes.
Rahul: "Twenty eight multiplied by three is eighty four, divided by two is forty two, so the number is 28384242"
Mother: Amazing!!! Come let us sit and eat Kellogs Cornflakes together, chumma just like that.
Krakfin Airhostess Training Institute
Poha Ali Khan: Arey Radha, what are you doing in that nice IT job that you can retire from? Dont you want to be an Air Hostess like me eventhough I am actually an actress and am only doing this for the money?!!
Friend: What to do I am not the daughter of an actress like you!
Poha: So what ? Krakfinn hai naah.
Poha and Friends in Air Hostess Costumes: Look at us... when you pass out of Krankfin you get to wear these cool Air Hostesses clothes and a certificate to boot too. See us pretending to fly with our arms stretched under an aircraft taking off breaking all aviation rules. You too can pretend to fly too if you join Krakfin.
Whirlpool
Ajay Devgun: oops my daughter just dropped Tomato Ketchup on my shirt.
Kajol: Thank you dear daughter, now we will show these people how Whirpool magic will wash and remove stain which can be done by any other washing machine too.
Whirlpool Stain Wash ke six sense. Hotwash aur one-two, one-two handwash mitaye chhey ziddi daag for perfect dhulayi.
Next day getting ready, Ajay Devgun deliberately drops some ketchup on his white shirt. As his shocked wife and daughter ask the reason:
Ajay: Fight scene hai …besides I don't know what else to say this script is so stupid, so just look indulgently at me you two.
Maggi Noodles
Autorickshaw Driver to Priety Zinta: Madam panch rupey aur doge though I dont know why I am asking for more...
Priety Zinta: Will you take Maggi Noodles? Because it is only five rupees and I can go and buy one and give you one instead of giving you five rupees as you asked.
Autorickshaw Driver: Maggi noodle aur panch rupey mein?
Priety Zinta carrying a Maggi packet and singing: Maggi chota pack, bas panch rupey ka only.
Sanjh subah har bacha khaye, lehar mazey ki daud gayi.
Kyon kahin aap bhi bekhabar to nahin. Maggi noodles ka chota pack...dam sirf paanch rupey I-know-I-am-making-no-sense-but-what-the-heck-I-get-paid-to-sing- carrying-this-stupid-packet. I-hope-it-is-not-carcinogenic-but-I-don’t-care-because-I-don’t-eat-it.
Saffola Mom
A football match is in progress on the school grounds. The rain comes down in torrents, but the kids continue the game. A Saffola mom carries an umbrella and runs behind her son like a moron, shielding him from the rain.
The first half of the match was tied at 2-2, since Mom prevented free play with her umbrella, however the Non Mom Team reflecting their brilliance went ahead, pleasing the crowd, then Mom came in between and Sons Team not only equalized but went 2-1 up. There were cheers as we hear Apne bache ki dekhbhaal ke liye aap kitnimushkilein uthaaiyegin? NayaSaffola NutriBlend, jismein hai...internationally research kiya gaya Oryzanol aur Vitamin E. Aapke parivaar ki surakhsha ke liye...Saffola.
Even my dogs groaned and covered their eyes with their paws at this juncture.
There was no second half in this game because by now the message was loud and clear, "avoid playing with boys whose mom uses Saffola"
I swear after this, the ticks jumped onto the remote and switched the TV off. But no one believes me.
The Television or TV for short is a wonderful and entertaining device. It shows a lot of commercials, which are sometimes interrupted with a few programmes like soaps, talk shows and News. The commercials being shown these days are just “wow”. Some of the commercials I liked are given below.
Pepsi TV
Kareena Kapoor: Hello viewers, today I shall show you how dumb you all are. *giggle* Have you heard of Pepsi TV? You haven’t? Me too. *giggle* But if you watch TV while sipping Pepsi, you are all dumb.
Priyanka Chopra (smiling coyly at viewers): I second that clever observation Kareena. These people are so dumb.
Pears Pink Soap
Mother: Kids, lets show these dumb people how we dance and sing on a weekday morning when most people are rushing to work and school.
Kids: wheeeee
Dad: And watch me lounge around in white pyjamas expressing amazement at this pansy pink soap while I should be stuck in a traffic jam on the way to office but since I am a model I don’t have to.
Saffola
Wife who spots hubby eating in the park: Look at him hog pani puri while he tells me that he is out jogging!!! Grrr I will teach him a lesson, I will buy Saffola.
Husband carrying wife: Wheee, see I can carry you; you have become so light though you bought the oil for me. Thank you saffola!!!
Nestle Munch
Rani Mukherjee: See me sit on the ship and eat Munch, yummy!! Why does this guy want to stand with me like Leonardo De Caprio and Kate Winslet in Titanic? I will just push him down the ship and then throw him the lifejacket.
Kellogs Cornflakes
Mom: Rahul please show these stupid people that you know Savita maasi’s number by heart because you eat Kellogs Cornflakes.
Rahul: "Twenty eight multiplied by three is eighty four, divided by two is forty two, so the number is 28384242"
Mother: Amazing!!! Come let us sit and eat Kellogs Cornflakes together, chumma just like that.
Krakfin Airhostess Training Institute
Poha Ali Khan: Arey Radha, what are you doing in that nice IT job that you can retire from? Dont you want to be an Air Hostess like me eventhough I am actually an actress and am only doing this for the money?!!
Friend: What to do I am not the daughter of an actress like you!
Poha: So what ? Krakfinn hai naah.
Poha and Friends in Air Hostess Costumes: Look at us... when you pass out of Krankfin you get to wear these cool Air Hostesses clothes and a certificate to boot too. See us pretending to fly with our arms stretched under an aircraft taking off breaking all aviation rules. You too can pretend to fly too if you join Krakfin.
Whirlpool
Ajay Devgun: oops my daughter just dropped Tomato Ketchup on my shirt.
Kajol: Thank you dear daughter, now we will show these people how Whirpool magic will wash and remove stain which can be done by any other washing machine too.
Whirlpool Stain Wash ke six sense. Hotwash aur one-two, one-two handwash mitaye chhey ziddi daag for perfect dhulayi.
Next day getting ready, Ajay Devgun deliberately drops some ketchup on his white shirt. As his shocked wife and daughter ask the reason:
Ajay: Fight scene hai …besides I don't know what else to say this script is so stupid, so just look indulgently at me you two.
Maggi Noodles
Autorickshaw Driver to Priety Zinta: Madam panch rupey aur doge though I dont know why I am asking for more...
Priety Zinta: Will you take Maggi Noodles? Because it is only five rupees and I can go and buy one and give you one instead of giving you five rupees as you asked.
Autorickshaw Driver: Maggi noodle aur panch rupey mein?
Priety Zinta carrying a Maggi packet and singing: Maggi chota pack, bas panch rupey ka only.
Sanjh subah har bacha khaye, lehar mazey ki daud gayi.
Kyon kahin aap bhi bekhabar to nahin. Maggi noodles ka chota pack...dam sirf paanch rupey I-know-I-am-making-no-sense-but-what-the-heck-I-get-paid-to-sing- carrying-this-stupid-packet. I-hope-it-is-not-carcinogenic-but-I-don’t-care-because-I-don’t-eat-it.
Saffola Mom
A football match is in progress on the school grounds. The rain comes down in torrents, but the kids continue the game. A Saffola mom carries an umbrella and runs behind her son like a moron, shielding him from the rain.
The first half of the match was tied at 2-2, since Mom prevented free play with her umbrella, however the Non Mom Team reflecting their brilliance went ahead, pleasing the crowd, then Mom came in between and Sons Team not only equalized but went 2-1 up. There were cheers as we hear Apne bache ki dekhbhaal ke liye aap kitnimushkilein uthaaiyegin? NayaSaffola NutriBlend, jismein hai...internationally research kiya gaya Oryzanol aur Vitamin E. Aapke parivaar ki surakhsha ke liye...Saffola.
Even my dogs groaned and covered their eyes with their paws at this juncture.
There was no second half in this game because by now the message was loud and clear, "avoid playing with boys whose mom uses Saffola"
I swear after this, the ticks jumped onto the remote and switched the TV off. But no one believes me.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Happy Independence Day
Hello peoples and all my readers…(all five of you). Hope you had a nice holiday today and hope you were not too intrigued or disturbed by some people waving a tricolor flag and all that. And in case you are wondering why these people were waving the tricolor flag, today was Independence Day. Today was the day our freedom fighters demanded and got us freedom.
Freedom fighter(FF): Nikal jao hindustan se!!!
Britisher: I say ‘ol chap, you trying to say something or wot?
FF (in English): I said "get lost!!!"
Britisher (shrugging): O.K...fair enough.
Me is been very busy and so have been unable to post besides I am going through a severe cash crunch as the bank has just returned my salary cheque for the nth time. Apparently, 'peanuts' is not an acceptable currency in India :p
Ciao folks, will post soon.
Jai hind!!!
Freedom fighter(FF): Nikal jao hindustan se!!!
Britisher: I say ‘ol chap, you trying to say something or wot?
FF (in English): I said "get lost!!!"
Britisher (shrugging): O.K...fair enough.
Me is been very busy and so have been unable to post besides I am going through a severe cash crunch as the bank has just returned my salary cheque for the nth time. Apparently, 'peanuts' is not an acceptable currency in India :p
Ciao folks, will post soon.
Jai hind!!!
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Over the cuckoos nest
Many years ago, a young mallu Dad toiling away in the gelf was shopping for his return home. He came across a toyshop selling wooden blocks with the numbers 1-10 painted on them.
“And ideal toy to teach your youngster numbers”, the shopkeeper assured him.
The young mallu Dad’s eyes took on a far away look as he visualized his little daughter playing and learning Math and rapidly growing up to be a brilliant Accountant and helping him evade huge amounts in income tax. With such pleasant thoughts in his head and a spring in his step the young mallu Dad bought the wooden learning blocks and took a cab to the airport.
He had a pleasant flight home, except for a strange incessant urge to make a hole under his seat to retrieve the wooden number blocks from the cargo bay and teach a lesson or two to the cabin crew in in-flight hospitality.
After landing home safely (which was a miracle of sorts since he flew Air India), he opened the gift and showed it to his one-year-old daughter. She developed an instant dislike to number five and threw it out of the window. Soon she developed a dislike for number seven and it too met with a similar fate. Then she developed an instant dislike for numbers one, two, three, four, six, eight, nine and ten and they too followed suit…out of the window. The parents of the little gal looked ominously at each other. Two of their worst fears had come true.
1. They would have to pay their Income Tax like other law-abiding citizens.
2. Their daughter didn’t like wooden blocks with numbers painted on them.
That was my rather unfortunate introduction to Mathematics. Since that fateful day, I have had a love hate relationship with this subject…more of hate than love really, like 99% hate and 1% love. The one percent love that I felt towards the subject was when the Math teacher was absent and we could go out and play.
My Math teachers on the other hand, made sure that my foundation of hatred for Math would be strong and deep rooted and that I would never add, subtract, multiply or divide, even to save my own life.
Man with gun: Tell me what is 2 x 2 or I will shoot you dead.
Me: I don’t know.
Man with gun: O.k. I will give you another chance!
Me: 6?
Man with gun: *bang*
It all started with the teacher teaching me Addition. The first sum was quite easy, even though it looked complicated.
1+1=2
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we all beamed back. It looked so easy. And then teacher gave us homework, so that we could practice this ‘easy subject’ at home. When I took the homework home, my Dad’s developed an instant dislike towards my math’s teacher. My homework was:
Add 56455675478 and 12907563
Next day, the teacher taught us multiplication. And my very first sum was:
1x1=1
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we all beamed back, the suckers that we were. It looked so easy!! The homework this time was:
5347585 x 3366
My Dad cursed fluently and my mom had to physically restrain him from calling a “bhai’ in Mumbai and putting a ‘supari’on the teacher.
Next I learnt Division. The first sum went thus:
1/1 = 1Quotient Remainder 0
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we didn’t beam back… we looked uneasily at each other, we had learnt our lessons by now and it definitely wasn’t 'Division'. That day I took my homework to my neighbor’s house and left it there for safekeeping. As a precocious child I knew that having a jailbird for a father would damage me for life. Besides a little girl needs her Dad...to pay her bills when she will not be a little girl anymore. Even at that age I was so mature and farsighted.
After my first Math teacher, many other Math teachers came into my life and left, wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth in despair ( because corporal punishment was banned in school). Math remained an enigma to me and I was the only problem no Math teacher could ever solve. And it is because of the combined effort of these never-say-die Math teachers that I am, where I am today...an English graduate and proud of it too.
Thank you all ye Math teachers.
“And ideal toy to teach your youngster numbers”, the shopkeeper assured him.
The young mallu Dad’s eyes took on a far away look as he visualized his little daughter playing and learning Math and rapidly growing up to be a brilliant Accountant and helping him evade huge amounts in income tax. With such pleasant thoughts in his head and a spring in his step the young mallu Dad bought the wooden learning blocks and took a cab to the airport.
He had a pleasant flight home, except for a strange incessant urge to make a hole under his seat to retrieve the wooden number blocks from the cargo bay and teach a lesson or two to the cabin crew in in-flight hospitality.
After landing home safely (which was a miracle of sorts since he flew Air India), he opened the gift and showed it to his one-year-old daughter. She developed an instant dislike to number five and threw it out of the window. Soon she developed a dislike for number seven and it too met with a similar fate. Then she developed an instant dislike for numbers one, two, three, four, six, eight, nine and ten and they too followed suit…out of the window. The parents of the little gal looked ominously at each other. Two of their worst fears had come true.
1. They would have to pay their Income Tax like other law-abiding citizens.
2. Their daughter didn’t like wooden blocks with numbers painted on them.
That was my rather unfortunate introduction to Mathematics. Since that fateful day, I have had a love hate relationship with this subject…more of hate than love really, like 99% hate and 1% love. The one percent love that I felt towards the subject was when the Math teacher was absent and we could go out and play.
My Math teachers on the other hand, made sure that my foundation of hatred for Math would be strong and deep rooted and that I would never add, subtract, multiply or divide, even to save my own life.
Man with gun: Tell me what is 2 x 2 or I will shoot you dead.
Me: I don’t know.
Man with gun: O.k. I will give you another chance!
Me: 6?
Man with gun: *bang*
It all started with the teacher teaching me Addition. The first sum was quite easy, even though it looked complicated.
1+1=2
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we all beamed back. It looked so easy. And then teacher gave us homework, so that we could practice this ‘easy subject’ at home. When I took the homework home, my Dad’s developed an instant dislike towards my math’s teacher. My homework was:
Add 56455675478 and 12907563
Next day, the teacher taught us multiplication. And my very first sum was:
1x1=1
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we all beamed back, the suckers that we were. It looked so easy!! The homework this time was:
5347585 x 3366
My Dad cursed fluently and my mom had to physically restrain him from calling a “bhai’ in Mumbai and putting a ‘supari’on the teacher.
Next I learnt Division. The first sum went thus:
1/1 = 1Quotient Remainder 0
Very simple no? The teacher beamed at us and we didn’t beam back… we looked uneasily at each other, we had learnt our lessons by now and it definitely wasn’t 'Division'. That day I took my homework to my neighbor’s house and left it there for safekeeping. As a precocious child I knew that having a jailbird for a father would damage me for life. Besides a little girl needs her Dad...to pay her bills when she will not be a little girl anymore. Even at that age I was so mature and farsighted.
After my first Math teacher, many other Math teachers came into my life and left, wringing their hands and gnashing their teeth in despair ( because corporal punishment was banned in school). Math remained an enigma to me and I was the only problem no Math teacher could ever solve. And it is because of the combined effort of these never-say-die Math teachers that I am, where I am today...an English graduate and proud of it too.
Thank you all ye Math teachers.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Simply single
"Sex after marriage is so boring yaar" lamented a married gal in my close friend’s circle. Apparently it was quite hot and happening when she and her former fiancé (now hubby) were going steady. "The thought of getting caught and doing it on the sly made it so exciting, now it is soooo boring" she said rather glumly. These random outbursts on the love life problems of married friends usually leave us single gals clueless. Since none of us are ‘experienced’ in the department, we are unable to give advice except look at her like we look at the Auditor when he talks about 'Hedge Funds' ( wots that??????)
"er...why don’t you do it on the sly then?" I said, having not a clue to what I should say, but if I don’t say anything then I am labelled a "cold uncaring bitch*".
She looks at me like the Auditor has just told her that the government has raised Income Tax levels to 50%.
"Are you crazy???" she shrieked shrilly, making the ear wax in my ear splatter on the wall and a spider like crack to appear on my other single friends eyeglasses. (It made a pretty pattern though)
It is at times like these that I wish I had shut my mouth like a cold uncaring bitch*. Apparently I am not hot and happening in the “sex advice” circuit. What do you expect when you ask a single about sex. It’s like asking a doctor about appendix; he knows its there but doesn’t know what it is all about.
Anyways, it turned out that my married friend PK was just musing aloud and we were supposed to make sympathetic noises like “how sad” and "poor baby" and "buy a new dress, you will feel better" etc.
So I goofed up. (note to self- next time restrict your advice to Income Tax and things you know about like System Architecture but at no point of time give advice about sex since the only sex you know about is that you are a female)
Which brings me to another problem of having married friends. Every problem on Earth from global warming to India’s fiscal deficit is because of hubby’s raging hormones. So when she calls on a Monday morning, please forgive me if I cringe and make a dash for the door. Soon after a hearty, today-is-Monday-so-mom-made-her-best-breakfast, you do not want to hear about your pals bedroom antics do you? Apart from losing your breakfast you also lose your appetite for lunch. (Hint-Girls are bad narrators)
She: I don’t feel like going to work today because of you-know-what-happened-yesterday-night! *yawn*
Me (praying): *Almighty God please spare me the details*
(aloud) So why you telling me all this???
She ( annoyed): I listen to all your grumbles!!!!
Me: Having a bad hair day is not exactly in the same league as your er…complaint is it?
She: *hmph*
Then there is yet another problem of having close married gal friends....you get to hear a rather graphic first hand account of her ‘first night’...whether you like it or not. Soon after the wedding, honeymoon etc, the girls meet up at some restaurant and the not-at-all-coy and shy newly wed bride will bare all. The look on the single gals faces during the narration is rather interesting. I would describe it as a cross between witnessing a gory accident and another gorier accident. (Girls are bad narrators I told you!).
So if you see a group of girls collectively throwing up outside a restaurant you know what happened. And if you see the only one in the group sitting smug with a *I am getting back at you for being single while I am now a married old hag* look, then you know who the newly wed bride is.
I have now sworn off marriage. I was always bad at acrobatics, aerobatics and complicated Yoga postures. So marriage is definitely ruled out in my scheme of things.
(Disclaimer: *‘Bitch’ is an affectionate term used liberally amongst us gals. Guys are strongly advised against using it on their female and male acquaintances. This writer will not be responsible for the loss of your limbs, sex life and manhood. )
"er...why don’t you do it on the sly then?" I said, having not a clue to what I should say, but if I don’t say anything then I am labelled a "cold uncaring bitch*".
She looks at me like the Auditor has just told her that the government has raised Income Tax levels to 50%.
"Are you crazy???" she shrieked shrilly, making the ear wax in my ear splatter on the wall and a spider like crack to appear on my other single friends eyeglasses. (It made a pretty pattern though)
It is at times like these that I wish I had shut my mouth like a cold uncaring bitch*. Apparently I am not hot and happening in the “sex advice” circuit. What do you expect when you ask a single about sex. It’s like asking a doctor about appendix; he knows its there but doesn’t know what it is all about.
Anyways, it turned out that my married friend PK was just musing aloud and we were supposed to make sympathetic noises like “how sad” and "poor baby" and "buy a new dress, you will feel better" etc.
So I goofed up. (note to self- next time restrict your advice to Income Tax and things you know about like System Architecture but at no point of time give advice about sex since the only sex you know about is that you are a female)
Which brings me to another problem of having married friends. Every problem on Earth from global warming to India’s fiscal deficit is because of hubby’s raging hormones. So when she calls on a Monday morning, please forgive me if I cringe and make a dash for the door. Soon after a hearty, today-is-Monday-so-mom-made-her-best-breakfast, you do not want to hear about your pals bedroom antics do you? Apart from losing your breakfast you also lose your appetite for lunch. (Hint-Girls are bad narrators)
She: I don’t feel like going to work today because of you-know-what-happened-yesterday-night! *yawn*
Me (praying): *Almighty God please spare me the details*
(aloud) So why you telling me all this???
She ( annoyed): I listen to all your grumbles!!!!
Me: Having a bad hair day is not exactly in the same league as your er…complaint is it?
She: *hmph*
Then there is yet another problem of having close married gal friends....you get to hear a rather graphic first hand account of her ‘first night’...whether you like it or not. Soon after the wedding, honeymoon etc, the girls meet up at some restaurant and the not-at-all-coy and shy newly wed bride will bare all. The look on the single gals faces during the narration is rather interesting. I would describe it as a cross between witnessing a gory accident and another gorier accident. (Girls are bad narrators I told you!).
So if you see a group of girls collectively throwing up outside a restaurant you know what happened. And if you see the only one in the group sitting smug with a *I am getting back at you for being single while I am now a married old hag* look, then you know who the newly wed bride is.
I have now sworn off marriage. I was always bad at acrobatics, aerobatics and complicated Yoga postures. So marriage is definitely ruled out in my scheme of things.
(Disclaimer: *‘Bitch’ is an affectionate term used liberally amongst us gals. Guys are strongly advised against using it on their female and male acquaintances. This writer will not be responsible for the loss of your limbs, sex life and manhood. )
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Ideas for selling
Been very busy these days. In fact I am so busy that I am giving the bees on the tree next door a massive complex. Busy as a bee may soon be replaced with 'busy as silverine' *sigh*
Trying to sell our products across the globe is an interesting and challenging thing to do. The HSBC ad puts it accross so neatly.“Different people, Different Perspective” says the ad. So true!!!
My Regional Marketing Manager (RMM) for Africa has a lot of ideas, though he is not able to put his finger on it.
RMM: Miss, selling in Africa is easy. All you need to do is make simple communication material.
Me: That sounds easy!
RMM: No high funda English!
Me: Fine.
RMM: No, big words
Me: I will remember that.
RMM: No long sentences
Me: Ok
RMM: And very less words.
Me: How about the picture of the product next to a Zebra?
RMM: What a brilliant idea!!!
The Marketing Manager for South East Asia, Mr. W has different demands.
Mr: W: Pithy (pretty) gals next to product ok?
Me: Ok!
Mr: W: Pithy gals must wear pithy dress ok?
Me: Ok
Mr: W: Pithy gals smile odee (all the) time ok?
Me: Ok!
Mr. W sure knows his region well. It is such a delight working for him (no offence meant to anyone)
The long suffering marketing guy in Europe is a stiff upper lip character. Before he comes down for meetings, the housekeeping staff can be seen furiously cleaning the best bone china and silver cutlery. I spend a week before his arrival trying to lift the cup from the bone china saucer with my pinkie extended and practice the stiff upper lip technique. We shall call him Mr. S
Mr. S: Good morning Miss. How do you do.
Me: How do you do.
Mr. S: It wouldn’t be intemperate for me to propound an amendment to the communication strategy a trifle for the coming season, would it?
Me: You mean, we need to make new ads?
Mr. S: Precisely!
Me: Do we have any new features in our products that we can highlight?
Mr. S: Oh good lord no!
Me: Any price cuts?
Mr. S: Heavens! Absolutely not!!
Me: Then we shall take a ‘we are superior’ attitude for our new ad campaign.
Mr. S: (placing the cup delicately on the saucer): Excellent!
I take back what I just said about communication being a challenge. It is a piece of cake, served with the right cutlery you see ;)
Trying to sell our products across the globe is an interesting and challenging thing to do. The HSBC ad puts it accross so neatly.“Different people, Different Perspective” says the ad. So true!!!
My Regional Marketing Manager (RMM) for Africa has a lot of ideas, though he is not able to put his finger on it.
RMM: Miss, selling in Africa is easy. All you need to do is make simple communication material.
Me: That sounds easy!
RMM: No high funda English!
Me: Fine.
RMM: No, big words
Me: I will remember that.
RMM: No long sentences
Me: Ok
RMM: And very less words.
Me: How about the picture of the product next to a Zebra?
RMM: What a brilliant idea!!!
The Marketing Manager for South East Asia, Mr. W has different demands.
Mr: W: Pithy (pretty) gals next to product ok?
Me: Ok!
Mr: W: Pithy gals must wear pithy dress ok?
Me: Ok
Mr: W: Pithy gals smile odee (all the) time ok?
Me: Ok!
Mr. W sure knows his region well. It is such a delight working for him (no offence meant to anyone)
The long suffering marketing guy in Europe is a stiff upper lip character. Before he comes down for meetings, the housekeeping staff can be seen furiously cleaning the best bone china and silver cutlery. I spend a week before his arrival trying to lift the cup from the bone china saucer with my pinkie extended and practice the stiff upper lip technique. We shall call him Mr. S
Mr. S: Good morning Miss. How do you do.
Me: How do you do.
Mr. S: It wouldn’t be intemperate for me to propound an amendment to the communication strategy a trifle for the coming season, would it?
Me: You mean, we need to make new ads?
Mr. S: Precisely!
Me: Do we have any new features in our products that we can highlight?
Mr. S: Oh good lord no!
Me: Any price cuts?
Mr. S: Heavens! Absolutely not!!
Me: Then we shall take a ‘we are superior’ attitude for our new ad campaign.
Mr. S: (placing the cup delicately on the saucer): Excellent!
I take back what I just said about communication being a challenge. It is a piece of cake, served with the right cutlery you see ;)
Friday, July 21, 2006
Bloody B'gers
As of Monday, I have been officially pronounced a terrorist by the Indian government and my blog has been blocked. Now, my teachers had predicted this long time back so my family and friends were not very surprised.
Teacher: I tell you Mr. Dad your daughter is showing all signs of becoming an anti social element!!!
Dad: How can you say that based on one incident? She pulled that girl’s hair only 50 times!!! How can you be so biased???
Teacher (whispering): Look at her!!! She sits in front of the computer the whole day.
I am having severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to read my favorite b***s. Yes dear reader, blog has become a four letter word now and hence forth I will stick to the word B. According to the Indian Government, all the crimes perpetrated in this world is because of B and all B’gers are criminals. Now you can add B'ger in your long list of cuss words.
Boss: Lick my boots clean if you want to keep your job cretin.
Employee:(muttering to himself): "You are a bloody B’ger!!!"
(loudly) Sure where do I start, from the heel or the toe boss?
Now my dear peoples you must all be wondering how a blog can help perpetrate terrorist acts?! Here’s how:
Terrorist: Baas the Indian intelligence people are everywhere. I am unable to even burst a fire cracker during Diwali *sob*
Boss: Koi bath nahin, write a blog!
Terrorist: How will it help baas?
Boss: When they are busy trying to decipher your post, we will sneak out and strike at will Ha Ha Ha Ha
Terrorist You are a genius baas!! What shall I write?
Boss: Write any nonsense you want ...who cares!
In the meantime our terrorist, like an obedient lackey goes and writes a blog at blogspot to fool the Inteligence Agencies into thinking that he is writing something intelligent.
Mere sapnon ke rani kab aayegi thu
Aaye ruth mastani kab ayegi thu
Beethi jaye zindgani kab ayegi thu
Chali aa thu chali aa.
He gets four comments:
IB said
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
RAW said
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ISI said
Amazing post!
Anu Malik said
Nice song!
Terrorist: You are a genius bass!!! It works!
Boss: Jabse maine Blogspot apnaya, mera wazan bahuth kam ho gaya aur mein bahut successful ho gaya hun. Thank you Blogspot. Aap bhi aajma ke dekhiye naah!!
Teacher: I tell you Mr. Dad your daughter is showing all signs of becoming an anti social element!!!
Dad: How can you say that based on one incident? She pulled that girl’s hair only 50 times!!! How can you be so biased???
Teacher (whispering): Look at her!!! She sits in front of the computer the whole day.
I am having severe withdrawal symptoms from not being able to read my favorite b***s. Yes dear reader, blog has become a four letter word now and hence forth I will stick to the word B. According to the Indian Government, all the crimes perpetrated in this world is because of B and all B’gers are criminals. Now you can add B'ger in your long list of cuss words.
Boss: Lick my boots clean if you want to keep your job cretin.
Employee:(muttering to himself): "You are a bloody B’ger!!!"
(loudly) Sure where do I start, from the heel or the toe boss?
Now my dear peoples you must all be wondering how a blog can help perpetrate terrorist acts?! Here’s how:
Terrorist: Baas the Indian intelligence people are everywhere. I am unable to even burst a fire cracker during Diwali *sob*
Boss: Koi bath nahin, write a blog!
Terrorist: How will it help baas?
Boss: When they are busy trying to decipher your post, we will sneak out and strike at will Ha Ha Ha Ha
Terrorist You are a genius baas!! What shall I write?
Boss: Write any nonsense you want ...who cares!
In the meantime our terrorist, like an obedient lackey goes and writes a blog at blogspot to fool the Inteligence Agencies into thinking that he is writing something intelligent.
Mere sapnon ke rani kab aayegi thu
Aaye ruth mastani kab ayegi thu
Beethi jaye zindgani kab ayegi thu
Chali aa thu chali aa.
He gets four comments:
IB said
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
RAW said
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
ISI said
Amazing post!
Anu Malik said
Nice song!
Terrorist: You are a genius bass!!! It works!
Boss: Jabse maine Blogspot apnaya, mera wazan bahuth kam ho gaya aur mein bahut successful ho gaya hun. Thank you Blogspot. Aap bhi aajma ke dekhiye naah!!
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Tiny Feats
My cousin sister's little daughter was attending her very first Interview for a seat in Nursery, at the XYZ Convent school, a school that has the distinction of churning out some really good girls and some really bad examples like me. So it was with utmost concern for my niece, that I refused to accompany them for the interview. Of course I didn’t tell them why, but with a record a mile long at this very institution, I didn’t think anyone related to me would be allowed within a mile of its hallowed walls.
It all started with my very first interview here, many years ago.
Sister: What is your name?
Me: I won’t tell you.
Mom: *gasp*
Dad: Ha! Ha! Ha….hum? er…sorry.
Sister: I will give you a Lollypop if you tell me your name.
Me: Yech, I hate lollypop.
Mom: *gasp*
Dad: *guffaw*
By the time the Interview was over, my mom’s face was an ashen color and Dad’s was a robust red from trying to control laughter. Anyways...due to the several rosaries recited by my Mom and her sisters on my behalf I got in and was put in Ms F’s class. My class teacher Miss F was a sweetheart, fresh out of college, brimming with confidence and a teachers training certificate to boot. She didn't last long.
Teacher: Girls please take out your coloring books!
Girl 2: Did you see the circus?
Girl 3: No
Girl 2: There was a big elephant.
Teachers: Girl, please please take out your coloring books .
Girl 2: And there was a joker too.
Girl 4: Really?
Girl 2: Yes and horses too.
Teacher: Girls *sob* please *sob* take out your books *sob*
Girl 1: I am going to ask my daddy to take me to the circus
Girl 2: And they have Ice Cream too.
Girl 3: Do they have dancing Zebras too?
Teacher ( banging her head on the table):Waaaaaaaah!!!
Miss F left, scarred for life, vowing never to teach kindergarten girls again. She joined the Nursery Section of the boy’s school next door where she was reportedly very happy.
The Nursery section is a separate enclosed area with its own playground, and a small Zoo with a sad looking peacock as its one and only incumbent. Its manliness, the long and colorful tail was stripped to the butt by determined little girls trying to catch him by the tail. The zoo was once populated with various animals that did not figure in the Endangered Species List like rabbits, budgerigars, pigeons, a crow etc. Alas, this too didn't last very long.
Girl 5: Miss, can I go see the birds?
New Teacher: Ok dear!
Girl 5 (coming back after 5 seconds): *sob* they ran away.
Teacher: Oh my God what did you do???
Girl 5: I took them for a walk *sniff*
Girl 6: Miss the fish in the tank is swimming funny!
New Teacher: Oh my God now what happened?
Girl 5: *snifff* I was feeding the fish that’s all.
New Teacher: What did you give it dear?
Girl 6: My lunch *bawl*
School Maid: Miss you had better come out see this, someone is throwing the rabbits down the slide.
New Teacher: *swoon*
After this incident the Zoo was put on the Gravely Endangered list of Zoos by the school management and we got a new teacher Miss T. Miss T lasted one whole period.
Miss T: Ok girls, I am going to be very strict and I will take no nonsense from any of you!
Girl : What is nonsense?
Miss T: er…lets learn to count today, take out your numbers book.
Girl : What is nonsense?
Miss T: Now Pinky, don’t ask silly questions and take out your number book.
Girl : What is a silly question?
Miss T: Shut up!!!
Girl : *sob*
After Miss T, a long line of fresh inexperienced young wannabe teachers came brimming with confidence and went brimming with despair, battle scarred and much wiser from the experience. With moiself involved in more than one escapade mentioned above, you can understand my reluctance to be seen anywhere in the vicinity of the school. It was with relief that I heard that my niece had got a seat in the school. But my happiness was cut short when my cousin sister told me that my niece had blurted out that her aunt was an ex student of the school.
To which, Sister turned to her and said smartly “Really? Well let’s see if we can do better with you !”
It all started with my very first interview here, many years ago.
Sister: What is your name?
Me: I won’t tell you.
Mom: *gasp*
Dad: Ha! Ha! Ha….hum? er…sorry.
Sister: I will give you a Lollypop if you tell me your name.
Me: Yech, I hate lollypop.
Mom: *gasp*
Dad: *guffaw*
By the time the Interview was over, my mom’s face was an ashen color and Dad’s was a robust red from trying to control laughter. Anyways...due to the several rosaries recited by my Mom and her sisters on my behalf I got in and was put in Ms F’s class. My class teacher Miss F was a sweetheart, fresh out of college, brimming with confidence and a teachers training certificate to boot. She didn't last long.
Teacher: Girls please take out your coloring books!
Girl 2: Did you see the circus?
Girl 3: No
Girl 2: There was a big elephant.
Teachers: Girl, please please take out your coloring books .
Girl 2: And there was a joker too.
Girl 4: Really?
Girl 2: Yes and horses too.
Teacher: Girls *sob* please *sob* take out your books *sob*
Girl 1: I am going to ask my daddy to take me to the circus
Girl 2: And they have Ice Cream too.
Girl 3: Do they have dancing Zebras too?
Teacher ( banging her head on the table):Waaaaaaaah!!!
Miss F left, scarred for life, vowing never to teach kindergarten girls again. She joined the Nursery Section of the boy’s school next door where she was reportedly very happy.
The Nursery section is a separate enclosed area with its own playground, and a small Zoo with a sad looking peacock as its one and only incumbent. Its manliness, the long and colorful tail was stripped to the butt by determined little girls trying to catch him by the tail. The zoo was once populated with various animals that did not figure in the Endangered Species List like rabbits, budgerigars, pigeons, a crow etc. Alas, this too didn't last very long.
Girl 5: Miss, can I go see the birds?
New Teacher: Ok dear!
Girl 5 (coming back after 5 seconds): *sob* they ran away.
Teacher: Oh my God what did you do???
Girl 5: I took them for a walk *sniff*
Girl 6: Miss the fish in the tank is swimming funny!
New Teacher: Oh my God now what happened?
Girl 5: *snifff* I was feeding the fish that’s all.
New Teacher: What did you give it dear?
Girl 6: My lunch *bawl*
School Maid: Miss you had better come out see this, someone is throwing the rabbits down the slide.
New Teacher: *swoon*
After this incident the Zoo was put on the Gravely Endangered list of Zoos by the school management and we got a new teacher Miss T. Miss T lasted one whole period.
Miss T: Ok girls, I am going to be very strict and I will take no nonsense from any of you!
Girl : What is nonsense?
Miss T: er…lets learn to count today, take out your numbers book.
Girl : What is nonsense?
Miss T: Now Pinky, don’t ask silly questions and take out your number book.
Girl : What is a silly question?
Miss T: Shut up!!!
Girl : *sob*
After Miss T, a long line of fresh inexperienced young wannabe teachers came brimming with confidence and went brimming with despair, battle scarred and much wiser from the experience. With moiself involved in more than one escapade mentioned above, you can understand my reluctance to be seen anywhere in the vicinity of the school. It was with relief that I heard that my niece had got a seat in the school. But my happiness was cut short when my cousin sister told me that my niece had blurted out that her aunt was an ex student of the school.
To which, Sister turned to her and said smartly “Really? Well let’s see if we can do better with you !”
Saturday, July 08, 2006
P C Clinic
Last Saturday my PC suddenly stopped working. Now this was a bad start to the weekend for poor me who connects with all her far flung useless friends on Saturdays to listen to their boyfriend/hubby/broken nails/PMS woes on the Yahoo messenger. Chatting with four gals at the same time can have some interesting effects.
Friend 1: My BF wants me to get a crew cut.
Me: Cucumber slices are great for it.
Friend 2: I have dark circles under my eye
Me: Tell your BF to go to hell yaar
Friend 1: You mean cucumber slices are great for a crew cut?
Friend 2: Will it help?
Me: oops wrong window.
Anyways, I checked my PC power connection, cabling, my hair, nail polish and even my Horoscope and whatever else a non technical person like me checks when their PCs won’t start. Everything looked fine, but the damn thing wouldn’t start!! I even said some nice encouraging words to coax it to start .
Me: Nice PC, good PC if you start like a good machine I promise I will get you a bigger hard disk or Ram or er… whatever else pleases you
PC: *silence*
Me: $$%$#^&* I swear I will replace you with a Lenovo! grrrrr
Now don’t look at me in horror folks. We all know how desperate people get when their PC doesn’t work. Heck it has made some people do impossible things like… “pray” for instance! So I said a small prayer over it, but either Gods Inbox was full or He had become an atheist or He was deliberately ignoring me. *sigh*
It was then I remembered “PC DOC”, “The Friendly Neighborhood PC Repairman” who had recently set up, P C Clinic” in the neighborhood approximately 20 kilometers from my neighborhood. His impressive power point presentation had Superman, Tarzan, Bill Gates and even Saddam Hussein waxing eloquent about his services. In the last slide of the presentation, Saddam looks you in the eye and says “Call PC Doc or else…..!!!” Very convincing. His extensive services covered computer peripherals too like spider webs, cockroaches, rodents, mother-in-laws etc.
“Call me PC Doc” he had said after the ppt “and remember to call PC Doc whenever your PC is not in good health”. PC Doc was in my house before I could even put the phone down. I was impressed. He wore a white lab coat and had two ‘interns’ and a suitcase with him.
PC Doc had a “Ah! A girl!!! This is going to be a piece of cake.” kind of look.
Intern No 1 had an “I hope he pays me for putting on this damn lab coat and standing around like a fool” kind of look.
Intern No 2 had a “he is still to pay me for standing in as Bill Gates at that sweet old lady’s house” kind of look.
And I had a “Wow I am so impressed!” kind of look.
To which the PC Doc sported a “It’s official, we have a sucker in our hands” kind of look.
PC Doc slid under the table after some complicated contortions to examine his ‘patient’, straightened up and faced me with a grave expression. I had this horrible sinking feeling, like that moment in the movies when the doctor gives the horrible news to the patient that he doesn’t have a medical degree.
PC Doc ( very seriously): Miss you had better sit down.
Me ( turning pale): What is wrong PC Doc?
(At this point of time I remembered the horrible tragedy of my friend Rita, whose CPU fell into the Piranha Tank at the PC Clinic and came out an empty shell. Poor PC Doc was more heartbroken than Rita when he returned the empty shell.)
PC Doc( gravely): I’m afraid the news is not good. The examination confirms that your PC is in the late stages of Hard Disk damage.
Me: Oh my God!!
PC Doc ( even more gravely):Unfortunately, there is no question about the results. You can take a second opinion but it will only prolong the inevitable.
Me: Inevitable?
PC Doc: Yes. I am afraid you will have to buy a new Hard Disk. I can buy your old damaged one for fifty rupees. It’s the best deal you will ever get.
Me (in a small voice): O.k...
Just then my brother strolled in and wanted to know what was going on and why these guys were dressed so funnily. I told him the tragic tale of my PC . He went around the CPU and flicked on a switch. The PC roared to life when he started it. Inching towards the door he said “ um..er… well….when you were having breakfast I..umm…ahem switched off the CPU ..it was just a joke you see…hey what are you doing????? Put down that keyboard I said!!!!”
*CRACK*
The keyboard missed him narrowly, but I swear I will get him next time. My room looked like an alphabet soup spill zone. I looked around for PC Doc but he had apparently had to leave in a tremendous hurry.
Anyways I have just got a consultation bill from PC Clinic and if I work non stop for 24 hours for the next 15 years and live on bread and water I might just be able to clear his bill. I am now working evenings at KFC and during my coffee breaks at KFC, I go to Kairalee Mess and wait at the tables. Every penny counts you see.
See you folks, I will miss you all, keep blogging. See you in fifteen years.
Friend 1: My BF wants me to get a crew cut.
Me: Cucumber slices are great for it.
Friend 2: I have dark circles under my eye
Me: Tell your BF to go to hell yaar
Friend 1: You mean cucumber slices are great for a crew cut?
Friend 2: Will it help?
Me: oops wrong window.
Anyways, I checked my PC power connection, cabling, my hair, nail polish and even my Horoscope and whatever else a non technical person like me checks when their PCs won’t start. Everything looked fine, but the damn thing wouldn’t start!! I even said some nice encouraging words to coax it to start .
Me: Nice PC, good PC if you start like a good machine I promise I will get you a bigger hard disk or Ram or er… whatever else pleases you
PC: *silence*
Me: $$%$#^&* I swear I will replace you with a Lenovo! grrrrr
Now don’t look at me in horror folks. We all know how desperate people get when their PC doesn’t work. Heck it has made some people do impossible things like… “pray” for instance! So I said a small prayer over it, but either Gods Inbox was full or He had become an atheist or He was deliberately ignoring me. *sigh*
It was then I remembered “PC DOC”, “The Friendly Neighborhood PC Repairman” who had recently set up, P C Clinic” in the neighborhood approximately 20 kilometers from my neighborhood. His impressive power point presentation had Superman, Tarzan, Bill Gates and even Saddam Hussein waxing eloquent about his services. In the last slide of the presentation, Saddam looks you in the eye and says “Call PC Doc or else…..!!!” Very convincing. His extensive services covered computer peripherals too like spider webs, cockroaches, rodents, mother-in-laws etc.
“Call me PC Doc” he had said after the ppt “and remember to call PC Doc whenever your PC is not in good health”. PC Doc was in my house before I could even put the phone down. I was impressed. He wore a white lab coat and had two ‘interns’ and a suitcase with him.
PC Doc had a “Ah! A girl!!! This is going to be a piece of cake.” kind of look.
Intern No 1 had an “I hope he pays me for putting on this damn lab coat and standing around like a fool” kind of look.
Intern No 2 had a “he is still to pay me for standing in as Bill Gates at that sweet old lady’s house” kind of look.
And I had a “Wow I am so impressed!” kind of look.
To which the PC Doc sported a “It’s official, we have a sucker in our hands” kind of look.
PC Doc slid under the table after some complicated contortions to examine his ‘patient’, straightened up and faced me with a grave expression. I had this horrible sinking feeling, like that moment in the movies when the doctor gives the horrible news to the patient that he doesn’t have a medical degree.
PC Doc ( very seriously): Miss you had better sit down.
Me ( turning pale): What is wrong PC Doc?
(At this point of time I remembered the horrible tragedy of my friend Rita, whose CPU fell into the Piranha Tank at the PC Clinic and came out an empty shell. Poor PC Doc was more heartbroken than Rita when he returned the empty shell.)
PC Doc( gravely): I’m afraid the news is not good. The examination confirms that your PC is in the late stages of Hard Disk damage.
Me: Oh my God!!
PC Doc ( even more gravely):Unfortunately, there is no question about the results. You can take a second opinion but it will only prolong the inevitable.
Me: Inevitable?
PC Doc: Yes. I am afraid you will have to buy a new Hard Disk. I can buy your old damaged one for fifty rupees. It’s the best deal you will ever get.
Me (in a small voice): O.k...
Just then my brother strolled in and wanted to know what was going on and why these guys were dressed so funnily. I told him the tragic tale of my PC . He went around the CPU and flicked on a switch. The PC roared to life when he started it. Inching towards the door he said “ um..er… well….when you were having breakfast I..umm…ahem switched off the CPU ..it was just a joke you see…hey what are you doing????? Put down that keyboard I said!!!!”
*CRACK*
The keyboard missed him narrowly, but I swear I will get him next time. My room looked like an alphabet soup spill zone. I looked around for PC Doc but he had apparently had to leave in a tremendous hurry.
Anyways I have just got a consultation bill from PC Clinic and if I work non stop for 24 hours for the next 15 years and live on bread and water I might just be able to clear his bill. I am now working evenings at KFC and during my coffee breaks at KFC, I go to Kairalee Mess and wait at the tables. Every penny counts you see.
See you folks, I will miss you all, keep blogging. See you in fifteen years.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Banking technology jargon
On Friday I walked into the ATM of an MNC Bank. This ATM is one of the best I have seen…clean and cool with air conditioning, a wide screen TV, potted plants, ISD facilities, smart and polite security guards etc. This is the first time I am using my Debit Card at another bank’s ATM, since I have an ATM close to office and home. I am impressed at the networking between banks, thanks to advances in Information Technology. You can even get your latest bank balance here after you withdraw money! Amazing!!!!
Now suppose your bank balance is Rs. 1000/- and you withdraw Rs. 200/-. This is how the transaction will go.
The moment you agree to a Receipt and press ‘Yes’ the ATM connects and communicates through, a host processor to your Bank’s Server and deducts the amount you have withdrawn from your account and gives you, your latest bank balance in a jiffy, like this.
Here is your new account balance.
Rs. 1000/- IS NOT AVAILABLE IN YOUR ACCOUNT!
Wow!!! And silly, mathematically challenged , me thought it was Rs. 800!!!
Now suppose your bank balance is Rs. 1000/- and you withdraw Rs. 200/-. This is how the transaction will go.
Please swipe your card and pull it out.
You have Rs. 1000/- in your account.
Please enter the amount you wish to withdraw
Please collect your cash.
Do you want a receipt for this transaction?
You have Rs. 1000/- in your account.
Please enter the amount you wish to withdraw
Please collect your cash.
Do you want a receipt for this transaction?
The moment you agree to a Receipt and press ‘Yes’ the ATM connects and communicates through, a host processor to your Bank’s Server and deducts the amount you have withdrawn from your account and gives you, your latest bank balance in a jiffy, like this.
Here is your new account balance.
Rs. 1000/- IS NOT AVAILABLE IN YOUR ACCOUNT!
Wow!!! And silly, mathematically challenged , me thought it was Rs. 800!!!
And with this I complete 100 posts folks! Thank you! :)
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