Feasting and fasting...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

18 facts no one wanted to know about me

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

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

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

2. What does your phone look like?

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

3. What is on the walls of your bedroom?

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

4. What is your current desktop picture?

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

5. Do you believe in gay marriage?

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

*giggle*


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

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

7 . What time were you born?

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

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

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

8. Are your parents still together?

Despite my Dads best efforts they are still together :p

9. Last person who made you cry?

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

10. What is your favorite perfume / cologne?

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

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

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

12. What are you listening to?

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

13. Do you get scared of the dark?

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

14. Do you like pain killers?

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

15. Are you too shy to ask someone out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone who chivalrously opened the door for me today :)

p.s I am listening to The Last Waltz.

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

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

A Christmas Crib story

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

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

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

But did it teach me a lesson? Naaah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The situation was grim in Bethlehem.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

Independent and clueless

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Burning buses is not a form of Satyagraha.”

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

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

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

“Neither is evading taxes!!”

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

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

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

Happy Independence Day to you all!

Whats in a name? Nothing!

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

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

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

1. Renji Pallivadikkal - Renji Church Door

2. Sunu Vaddakekara - Sunu Northern Side

3. Sunil Kunnath - Sunil on the hill

4. Mary Neerampuzha - Mary Redant river

5. Chacko Katticaren - Chacko Soldier

6. Joby Thekkeparambil - Joby Southern Fields

7. Paul Kinnatukara- Paul Well wall

8. Blessy Vattaparambil - Blessy round estate

9. Lily Madapally ‎- Lily Covent Chapel

10. Jacob Alapattu‎ - Jacob Blacksmith Song

11. Blesson Alilakuzhi‎ - Blesson Peepal Leaf hole

12. Noble Padinjarekootu‎ - Noble Western Group

13. Jiji Panjikaran‎ - Jiji Cotton man

14. Jomon Puthanpurayil - Jomon In the new house

15. Shijo Thudianplakkal‎ - Shijo Jackfruit Tree

16. Varkey Vettukuttil‎ - Varkey Cut Forest

17. Girly Vadakumpadam- Girly Northern Paddy field

18. Baby Kallarakkal – Baby In the stone tomb

19. Susan Medhipara - Susan Threshing the rock

20. Jeejo Nedunkallel - Jeejo In the long stone

See zo zimble no?!

*phew*

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

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

Friends are forever!!

What is a friend?

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

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

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

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

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

Friends are people you let your hair down with.

Friends never judge you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A friend is family.

A friend is forever.

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

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

Happy Friendship Day to you all.

Kaala Paani

Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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

Regards,

A J Singh

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

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

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

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Dear Miss Silverine,

I am in jail…..

Life can be funny

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

Call me!

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

"A sardarji..." she replied.

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

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

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

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

And there is more…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Version 1:

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

Version 2:

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

Version 3

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

Version 4

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

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

Top katz and a topper of an aunt

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Auf Wiedersehen Frankfurt!

Joys of being an underdog

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

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

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

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

Silence from my side.

I can see him battling homicidal tendencies and fratricidal mania.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This day that year!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you...

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


- Ralph Waldo Emerson

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

Serving you....the BMTC way

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

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


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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Pehla Nasha

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimmy Varghese looked somewhat like this. Pix courtesy Corbis

Shepherdessing the frocks err... flocks

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Road Show

*thud*

I closed my eyes as my brother M hit an old but well kept Fiat from behind! The Fiat stopped and out came a greying gentleman to inspect the back of his car. The following is the exchange that happened soon afterward.

Ungle: You hit my car!
M: I am sorry but you braked suddenly uncle.
Ungle: I didn’t brake suddenly. You were speeding.
M: Absolutely not!
Ungle: And who is this girl?
M: That’s my sister.
Ungle (turning to me): Young lady please tell your parents that your brother is a menace on the roads!!!
Me: heh heh they already know errr... I mean ok Uncle.

The-menace-on-the-road goes out to inspect Ungles car. Upon inspection it is revealed that we will need to import a high resolution Megapixel Digital Microscope to detect the scratch Ungle is claiming to have been caused by our car. Now Aundy comes out of the car. Aundy is suitably incensed.

Aundy: You young people should have some manners on the road. You think you own the road!!!

(Spots the rosary hanging from the rear view mirror)

Aundy: Malayalee aano? ( are you Malayalees)
M: Adhe! (yes)
Ungle: What is your father’s name?
M: *tells the name*
Ungle to aundy: Idhu nammude Mathiachande alian aano? (isn’t this our Mathew's brother in law?)
Aundy: aayirkaam! (maybe)
Ungle: Are you Mathew Padamadan's nephew?
M: Never heard of him
Ungle (turning to Aundy): This must be some other people.
Ungle: From which part of Kerala are you from?
M: Kottayam
Ungle to Aundy: Do we know anyone there?
Aundy: Susande mole kettichidhu Kadanadil alle? ( Isn’t Susans daughter is married to someone in kadanadu)
Ungle: hmmm are you related to Fr Sebastian?
M: Which Fr Sebastian? We have many Priests in our family!
Ungle to Aundy: Achchande veetuperu endhanu? (What is the Priests surname?)
Aundy: Kinatukkara!
Uncle: Yes Fr Sebastian Kinatukkara!!
M: Never heard of him either! Err... We need to go Uncle. It is getting late and we have a function to attend.
Ungle: Oho! So that was the hurry yeah? You are going to a party...to get drunk... and ram some more innocent vehicles?
M: I wasn't hurrying uncle besides we are going for a First Holy Communion!
Uncle: Don’t argue with me!! I am a retired army officer with grown up children you know! Give me your father’s number!
M: 123456789
Ungle: I am going to call the cops and then your father and .....
Aundy: Are you related to Paul Augustine from Kanjirappally?
M: Which Paul Augustine?
Aundy to Ungle: Paul Augustinede veetuperu endhanu? (What is Paul Augustine’s surname?)
Ungle: Marannu poyi! Eerurikkal annu ennu thonnunu! ( I forgot. I think it is Eerurikkal)
Aundy: I think it is Paul Augustine Eerurikkal!
M: Oh yes I know him.
Uncle (beaming): Then you must know his second cousin Jacob Alapatt’s son Ronald?
M: Yes!
Uncle: He is my son-in-law!
M: Oh wow! Great to meet you Uncle! How is Ronald?
Aunty: Maybe you haven’t heard but Ronald had an accident and is hospitalised. Mercy our daughter is in the US. He had just got his Visa!
M: How sad. Give me his number Uncle. Long time since I talked to him!
Ungle: Do that it will cheer him up! *beaming*
M: And how is Mercy?
Aundy: Mercy is fine. She will soon be moving to Chicago. You must know her brother in law Shibu.
M: Oh yes I do. He was my senior in REC I think!
Aundy: No he is from CET...
M: oh ok! Any ways we really gotta go now. Nice meeting you uncle and aunty! I am going to call Ronald today!
Uncle: Nice meeting you too heh heh. We will drop in home one day!
M: Sure Uncle!

In the car!

Me: Who is this Paul Augustine?
M: I have no idea!
Me: And Ronald?
M: No idea!
Me: And you don’t know Mercy and Shibu either I guess.
Me: *shrug* Never heard of them.
Me: But you gave him Dad’s phone number!
M: That was Bluebell Wine Shop's number.

(Meanwhile the only witness to the incident/accident is now enjoying freebies like some quality time with the accused's Thin 80GB External Portable Hard Disk Drive with over 4000 MP3 songs...tara rum pum pum. Currently listening to an all time favorite of mine Summer Wine )

The Mughal Conspiracy!

Hello friends! I am right now in the fair city of New Delhi. New Delhi to the uninitiated, is the capital city of our country and is approximately 2 kilometres away from the Sun. It is a city that is singularly responsible for the woes of millions of school students. Yes dear people our collective misery called Indian History has a lot to do with this city. I mean if the Mughals had not woken up one morning and said "Lets conquer Delhi and make monuments for people to pee and scribble on", you and me would have been spared the hours we spent byhearting dates and names of the people with unpronounceable names like Illtmush and Alauddin Khilji.

The Mughals who invaded India were a highly cultured race:

Mughal King: Mantriji please start the construction of the finest monuments known to man across my kingdom!
Mantriji: You are such an art connoisseur alampanah. Generations will remember you for your contribution to the art and culture of this great country.
Mughal King: Art connoisseur? Wots that? I am merely adding to the History syllabus of the NCERT duh!

Just imagine if the Mughals had not conquered India! We would be a land of uncultured History Text bookless people. What bliss!!

Places I have visited in Delhi so far:

Lal Quila (Red Fort): So called because it is "red" and it is a "fort". Besides Shahjahan did not want the uncultured Indians to look at it and say “See a large building, let’s go pee and scribble our names on the walls”. Shahjahan in keeping the grand Mughal tradition of making Silverine study as many dates as possible in her History class, made sure that this fort was started in 1638 and completed in 1648. ( He wanted to construct some extra dates err...wings in 1650, 1653 and 1678 but much to the disappointment of History teachers he ran short of funds. He however made up for it by starting work on the Taj Mahal in 1632 and finishing it in 1648. )

Qutub Minar: This monument was made by an unpronounceable Mughal King called Qutb-ud-Din Aybak. (Warning: Please do not attempt to pronounce his name at home. Only professionals trained in Urdu should attempt pronouncing this name. Complications in the form of twisted and knotted tongues have been reported from History students.). Qutub Minar was a favourite place for people seeking H1 Visa to Heaven. The authorities have now strictly limited Visa applicants to heaven. Qutb-ud-din died accidentally in 1210. But before he died he spent many an agonizing hour wondering why he made the Qutub Minar.

Old Fort (Purana Qila): This was constructed by Mughal emperors Humayun and Sher Shah under a joint funding agreement. Due to a loophole in the contract the two squabbled over its name for many years. It was variously called "dilpanah" and "shergarh" and “Jhumri Thalaiyya” . Peace was restored when Humayun slipped from a steep staircase and died.

Tughluqabad: This monument is an History teachers delight. And why you may ask....just read on and see if you can guess why?

Tughluqabad is about 8 km from Qutub Minar. It is the 3rd city of Delhi and was Ghiyas-ud-din Tughlaq's capital in 1320. This fort has 13 gateways and has a circuit of 4 miles.

Humayun's Tomb: This was built in anticipation of Humayun's death by, you guessed correctly Humayuns wife.

Safdarjang's Tomb: I know what you are thinking and you are absolutely right! The Mughals were not very original in naming monuments. Safdarjang's Tomb is one of the last examples of Mughal architecture. Thank god!

The Mughal empire fell during the mid-18th century due to the extreme heat of Delhi, cutting short History text books by at least 5678 pages. As a last act of defiance the Mughals handed over their monuments to The Indian Archaeological Society. The Indian Archaeological Society recently released a book to fund its restoration projects called “How to preserve monuments from the ravages of Time and Uric Acid.” The book is not selling very well.

As you can see by the post above I did not do very well in History in school.

For God so loved me that he made my mom...

Happy Mothers Day to my Amma and all the Mothers of the World today...including me. Well... I am mommy to three dogs and one baby squirrel too.

I don’t think many mothers know of the existence of this day like mine. But she does like the fuss she gets like the flowers given by all of us!

So let me without getting senti wish the most special person in my life today.

Happy Mother’s Day Amma. Hope we made you feel special today. Hope you are happy that you made me peel those irritatingly tiny chakkakurus (jackfruit seeds) for making my favourite chakkakuru maanga curry.
(and this dear people is the reason this post was delayed hmmph)

Thank you God for giving Mademoiselle Leelamma as my mom. I would call this the height of customisation :p

Thank you ma for being such a perfect mom. There is so little of you that irritates me :p

I hope you will be my ma forever cos no one understands me the way you do. Any other mother would have given me up for adoption or left home by now!

Thanks for being such a wonderful daughter, sister, wife, mother, aunt, godmother and local guardian to lots of bachchas of the family studying in Bangalore. Maybe you should start a consultancy on being the perfect woman.

Thanks for being a housewife with so much dignity and without losing your individuality and keeping the three men in your life in their places (muahahaha)

I admire you for not being a typical Indian mother by making your sons grate coconut, cut vegetables, water the garden, shop ,clean their rooms and do a hazaar household chores that a lot of Indian guys won’t even dream of doing.

Thanks for giving meaning to the word unselfish, selfless and gullible. I must confess I like the last trait of yours very much :p

And thanks for understanding that I will never be your clone.

I must confess that I have a role model in you. With the necessary changes of course to accommodate the difference in the times we live in.

Thanks for being such a dignified woman. I will always look upto to you for that though I will NEVER be like you because I so love the gossiping and bitching sessions with my friends. And no it does not matter if half the stuff we discuss may not have happened at all. Cut me some slack ma. It is harmless gal talk.

Thanks for being proud of me. People who know you will understand that this is no mean feat to achieve.

I feel so proud that you were voted "Best Mom" by my friends. Coming from teenage girls that has to be the "ultimate" compliment!

And I am sorry that I was/am not plump. And putting up with all those jibes from relations that I was underfed hinting at your mothering skills. I know my ‘weight problems’ were/is the bane of your life.

Thanks for never feeling hurt no matter what I say in irritation. It is really nice to have that one person in my life who will never misunderstand me or sulk on me.

And thanks for bearing up with all my bear hugs and being such a cuddly mom. I love you plump. (egads I can’t imagine having a pencil thin mom!!!)

And since this post will be printed and given to you by chetan, I want you to know that it is high time you made some payasam :p

This is my 150th post here. What a coincidence that it is Mothers Day too! And so bring out your handkerchief ma for this post is dedicated to you :)

Night shift!

Recently the Karnataka Government mulled over banning women from working in night shifts. This move aims to protect the modesty of women from the advances of male colleagues according to the government. If I read the governement communique right, this means that men metamorphosise into rapists and molesters like Werewolves as the sun sinks over the horizon.

4 pm in an office

Female Colleague: Rajeev would you know who our most profitable customers are?
Rajiv: I will mail you details right away ma'am.

11 pm in the night in the same office

Female Colleague: Rajeev lets go over the list you have sent ahead of Q4 planning.
Rajeev ( with a lecherous look): heh heh why don’t you come and sit on my lap and I will give you a detailed description of all 56 of them? *makes a grab for her*
Female Colleague: *shriek*

According to the government the hormones of men starts raging as the sun goes down.

5 pm in an office

Female Colleague: Joseph I would like a review meeting with you in the conference room please.
Joseph : Sure ma'am. I will be there with the Q4 details.

1 am in the same office

Female Colleague: Joseph let’s start the meeting with a review of your work in the past three months.
Joseph (salivating and advancing menacingly towards her): heh heh sure babes. Why don't we get a little cosier first hmm? And don’t try to run out. I have locked the conference room door *loud evil laughter*
Female Colleague: *shriek*


Last we heard, the government has dropped the idea. Talking to reporters a minister said “It was all a joke!! I know that women can get molested during daytime too! My own record is an example. I was charge sheeted for molesting 14 women in the day time vis vis only 7 in the night.”

Let’s cut him some slack folks. This guy was being sincere in trying to curb his inclinations err I mean men’s inclinations.

Say it right!

How I miss the good ole days of Interviews when you could lie through your teeth and get the job. Nowadays Interviews have been replaced by coffee and pastry chats in five star coffee shops.

Interviewer: Would you like some coffee or tea?
Interviewee: A glass of water please!
Interviewer: You are not very ambitious are you?
Interviewee: err Coffee please.
Interviewer: ...and rather indecisive too!
Interviewee (sweating): Can I have some juice instead?
Interviewer: *sneer* What a loser!
( you can never win I tell you)

During first year college when we English Interns were quite in demand to do the menial work of Communication people in IT companies, Interviews were 'Interviews'. Good ole "Tell me something about yourself" kinda Interviews.

My first Interview for a summer interns job was a couple of years ago. We had numerous Corporate Communication Managers and executives (mostly ex students) making a beeline to our college armed with HR executives who were in turn armed with an attitude fortified with really bad English, to shortlist potential candidates. Now the term 'potential candidates' had a lot of connotations. Potential could mean, the person with the highest marks in communicative English who got surpassed for the person who had spent the whole day at the beauty parlour prior to the Interview or it could mean someone who was on Sister Principals hit list for writing a blasphemous but highly popular article in the college newsletter titled "Dress Codes are for Nuns and Losers!" (now don’t be judgmental folks. I spent a good one week researching and writing that article. It was supported by solid facts and figures from the college canteen).

Now coming back to my narrative, I had checked the credentials of most of the companies coming for campus interviews that summer and found them lacking on many fronts. Number one – they were too far away from the nearest mall, Number two – they were too far away from the nearest movie theatre and Number three – they were too far away from anywhere.In short...I didn't want to work that summer :(

I had many plans that summer like going to Ooty and bird watching and taking part in the protest by Environmentalists in the Nilgiri's. Now these protests are very important social movements that teach you to walk in single file on Nilgiri roads without getting crushed by speeding tourist buses. (You also learn a very important lesson from peaceful protests... that no one cares till you turn violent. )

Once we even had a top forest official come out and address our rally. A very stupid move indeed he realised later on. I mean here we are standing outside the collectorate surrounded by some exotic fauna when we espy some exotic birds decorating the trees. As we were happily snapping pictures the forest official booms on the mike "Ladies and Gentlemen!!" If looks were darts, the forest official would have been a very highly populated pin cushion indeed!

The birds flew away with a squawk and the official had to face the wrath of the teeming multitudes!! That is 5 pair of very angry eyes indeed!! (err...Well 4 pairs to be precise as I was halfway up a tree chasing a Verditer Flycatcher). We were later told that the official meant no harm and all that he wanted to say was "Ladies and Gentlemen, please get off the lawn!!" ( in our defence I have to say we cannot read sign boards in Tamil especially when we are standing on it.)

Anyways I am deviating...again! Back to our narrative... one fine day I was handed a notice signed by Sister Principal that said that I had to attend an Interview for an Internship under Ms Hotair, the Corporate Communication Manager of Dotbust Corporation and before I could say "but I didn’t apply for this Internship” I found myself standing in the cold Reception of Dotbust Corporation. (it is here I learnt the origin of the term “Cold Reception”).

The cold reception was manned by a cold Receptionist with a smile so frosty that it would have Father Frost very hot under the collar indeed. College girls are dime a dozen besides they ask silly questions like “Can I come tomorrow? I have something urgent to take care of today”. So it was no wonder I was treated like a disease vermin. Soon I was called for my very first Interview.

Interviewer (absent mindedly): Tell me something about yourself.
Me: Hi! My name is Silverine. I am 19 years old, AB very +ve *wink* Cancerian …but I can be a Taurean or a Gemini or an Arian if you want me to be baby *slow wink *. I love life in the fast lane …hire me and watch me burn your Exit door. And *purrrr* do you know how to apply suntan lotion? *suggestive look*

Well…I didn’t say all that but I don’t think he would have blinked an eyelid or stopped snoring if I had. I gave him the usual ‘Introduction’ a.k.a. “tell me something about yourself” that the college counsellor had made all of us Xerox. During those days the interviewers could guess the educational institution by the ‘Introduction’.

HR Exec: How many of you here are from MCC College?
A few hands go up.
HR Exec: Girls please omit the last five lines of your “Introduction” when you go in. It is kinda tedious if you know what I mean. No offence though. And how many of you from JNC college?”
Another set of hands goes up.
HR Exec: You girls can omit the introduction altogether. No offense but it sucks!”

The Introduction exercise was just a tactic to keep you occupied while the interviewer decided whether he would date a Tina or a Tony that night.

Interviewer: hmmm so why do you want to get into communications?
Me: What a thought provoking question Sir…when there is Rocket Science and Palaeontology and Neurosurgery and Software Architecture to choose from, why would an English major like me opt for Communications indeed. You are a genius!!!

Of course I didn’t say that too. We had liberally borrowed whole passages from “1001 methods to keep your Interviewer awake!” and prepared the answer to this so very-anticipated question. These types of questions were a tactic to keep you occupied while the Interviewer decided if Tina would be a more economical date than Tony.

Interviewer: So why do you want to join our organization?
Me: Because you are the only one who called me for an interview you dimwit!!

Well…I didn’t say that too. I had made sure that I knew all there is to know about the company from their website and this included the Vision statement, Mission statement , About Us, Products Solutions and Copyrights, Disclaimers, Contact numbers of all their worldwide offices and the Site Map ( I could even draw the site map blind folded). These kind of questions were a tactic to give the Interviewer time to decide if he should skip the date and go home to the wife instead.

Interviewer: Where you do you see yourself five years from now?
Me: With Microsoft!!

Well...I actually said that! What happened next was horrible. You would think that people would appreciate you for being honest!!!! But no!!! Apparently honesty is not the best policy during Interviews! The result of my honesty was that I was hired! And that was the end of my summer holidays *sniff*

I know I know you will all say that honesty pays. I admit it does....but not very well peoples :(
( I had to hide my first pay check or people would have thought I was on dole!!!)

What I was trying to say in a rather long winded way (purely intentional) is that Interviews suck! I dream of the day when I will give my blog URL to the person who says “Tell me something about yourself”. But that ain't gonna happen we all know till Hell freezes over and Heaven becomes the new hot and happening zone.