Sunday, March 29, 2009

I don't mean to sound 40 years old, but...

They don't make mobile phones like they used to. :(

I went to Croma this evening with Lammy and his sister. They wanted to buy her a laptop and eventually settled for a Sony Vaio. Now while we're on the subject, I'll admit I was a lot more than very turned on by the Vaio. All those people promising me lovely presents as part of my wedding gift, kindly give me about 60,000 bucks in cash. I'll go buy myself a Vaio.

After Lammy was done spoiling his sister rotten (Hmph. He didn't even ask me if I wanted a Vaio myself. Talk about bad manners!), we went to the mobile phone section to pick me a phone. All was well. My current N70 was good enough to be sent flying from my building to the next and hear a satisfying smash from, and I was finally about to get a shiny, new, problem-free cellphone.

But this wasn't meant to be. The current set of cellphones in the market make me wonder if a) if I'm expecting too much out of a phone or b) All cellphone designers need to be bopped on the head with a broomstick. Why are most Nokia phones made these days look like electronic counterparts of a vada pav? As for the Sony Ericsson range, they look like they're about to burst into 'Shiny Disco Balls' anytime soon. Whatever happened to being understated and subtle? Aren't people with a budget of about 10-12 thousand supposed to feel elegant if they wanted to?

Nevertheless, I think I can deal with bad and overpriced cellphones, but I need Yoga to be able to handle the guys behind the counter. Firstly, there are ten thousand of them, and the one you initially started discussing a phone with, will realise he doesn't know shit, soon after you've explained whatever you want in great detail. He in turn, will summon another equally random bloke from the north-eastern region of the store, and you find yourself painstakingly saying the same thing over. Some third guy will butt in saying, "What madam? What? What?" and will say the exact same things the second guy told you. All this, while you patiently wait for divine intervention and some lightening to strike these guys dead.

Now you know why Sri Sri Ravishankar is so extremely popular.

At the end of this whole charade, we got the orgasmic laptop for Lammy's sister (I'm still sulking, for the record) and no phone for me (BIG Hmph.) Next time, I'm just going to throw a big tantrum when I'm accompanying somebody to an electronic store, till they give in and buy me the BlackBerry Storm.

Tears always work wonders, or so I'm told.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Wishful thinking...

Someday, I will watch my little princess grow into this big shot doctor.

I'll make sure she gets everything she needs. Just everything.

Oh, she'll turn into this most beautiful woman - tall, with big brown eyes, brown hair and dusky, like me.

She'll marry this handsome boy. What will he be? A doctor, too? A film star? Hmm. Film stars are very good-looking. Let her marry a film star like Shah Rukh Khan. Or maybe his son? Then she'll roam around in so many different cars. What a lovely couple they will make. My baby a famous doctor, and her husband a film star. They will have two healthy babies, just like herself. Oh, what a proud grandmother I'll be.

She will be so happy, that she will not remember me too often. Good. It is not nice for a daughter to keep remembering her mother's house too much, after she is married. But I will miss her every morning when I open my eyes. My little bundle of joy.

She adjusted the little girl tied to her body with a cloth, and was all set to board the train that was pulling into the station. Now if only her husband had kicked her on the right hip instead of the left, she wouldn't wince everytime her baby moved. Never mind.

She entered the train and began shouting out to the women, Rubberband, bangle, clip, earrings le lo....

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

When big things don't matter anymore...

"So what is the problem?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Vee. This is ridiculous. There must be something!"

"No there isn't. Nothing worth talking about anyway."

"Oh! So there is a something. Out with it. However silly, however trivial. Let's hear it."

"I'm telling you. There's nothing. Let's switch topics, for heaven's sake!"

"I said I want to hear it. I'm sick of you being distant with me. You're with me in person, but I can tell your mind is somewhere far away. Somewhere you want to be left completely alone. Please sweetheart, can't you tell me what the trouble is?"

"Alright. But don't blame me if I sound demented."

"Sure sweetie. Have I ever laughed at your troubles?"

"Well, for starters, why don't you give me a wake up call in the mornings like you used to?"

"Shucks! You know I like catching up on the news when I wake up."

"You always did. That didn't stop you from calling me before."

"Seriously...Is that it?"

"No. There's more. You don't call me from work more than once anymore. Where are those 50 second calls to tell me that you love me? You don't leave me sweet notes where I can find them like you used to. What happened to the times you used to pick me up from work when I was really late and you were free? Why has watching television taken over that? You don't like planning our weekends anymore. You think a random dinner thrown in makes a weekend special? What about those flowers you used to get delivered to my workplace? Why do you attend more office parties than before, even on holidays? Why are the twenty minutes that you used to spend on the phone at the end of the day, catching up on my life, replaced with just a 'Goodnight, honey. Sleep well!' message?"

"But Vee--"

"Shut up. You asked me what my problem was, and I'm telling you what's bothering me. What's bothering me, is that you're not the person I fell in love with. Were you doing all those utterly sweet things just to woo me? Or is that I don't matter as much as you used to?"

"Vee, listen. Every relationship goes through a phase, where the first few months are all exciting and the world completely revolves around that one person. Then, a few months later--"

"Let me complete that. A few months later, you get a grip on yourself, and decide that the person you wanted is all yours. Then you realise it's time to rearrange priorities and go do more important things. Right? Anyway, you asked me what was on my mind, and I've told you."

"Are you serious? You're mad at me over such little things?"

"Sweetie, it's always the little things."

Friday, March 13, 2009

Now narrating: Moo's stupid deed #89794564

I think I'm a Sardarni, but just don't know it yet. The amount of stupid things I keep doing on an everyday basis seem to be increasing at an alarming level, much to the merriment of the general public. I think I'm just going to listen to Sheroo and Lammy, and admit that I'm a Sardar Cow. :( You'll agree too, when I tell you why.

I was to go shopping with a friend today, and we were going to meet directly at the mall. In the meanwhile I called up Lammy and found out he was headed the same way, so he would drive me all the way. He told me to get ready soon, and I hurriedly left home to meet him at his place. All was cool. I was listening to music while he got ready, I was fantasizing about all the nice stuff I was going to buy for my birthday, and in general life was great. Till he announced that he was ready to leave.

I walked to the door to wear my Oshos and looked at them in utter shock.

I was wearing two different coloured Oshos. Yes. The left one was maroon, and the right one was dark green.

Lammy then walks to the door merrily and says, "What are you waiting for, Cow? Chalo!"

And then he sees what I was waiting for.

Two different coloured chappals.

He stared.

He stared me, then back at the Oshos.

And he laughed. :(

And he laughed some more.

What finally happened, was that I had to wear his mum's heels (I NEVER wear heels), and had to walk in them for what seemed like an eternity. Result: My feet are sore and my heels hurt.

And my friends are still laughing at me.

Now excuse me while I go look for my pagdi.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Well then, WHAT is it?

Is it because I don't fit in your scheme of 'cool'?

Is it because I stay in the suburbs? That my parents actually own a big house in this city, while you stay on rent with hardly anything left to spend on at the end of the month?

Is it because I don't think of wasting my perfectly healthy body with smokes and drinks, in the name of fun?

Is it because I like being around myself most of the times?

Is it to do with choosing not to go pubbing and partying, like everyone else?

Is it to do with unashamedly admitting to be a HUGE Harry Potter fan, although it's extremely chic to do otherwise?

Is it to do with wearing Oshos almost everyday because I happen to like them, and not because I can't afford shoes above Rs. 50?

Is it because I write without any pretensions, at the risk of sounding shallow and superficial and not deep and philosophical?

Is it because I outright refuse to spend 2000 bucks on a haircut, instead of laying awake at night wondering if I could have put the money to better use?

Is it related to me liking Hindustani classical music and old Hindi hits more instead of Pink Floyd and Pearl Jam?

Is it because I value my parents' opinion in most cases, and try conforming to certain rules they've laid down for me?

Is it because I couldn't care less about how I look, and thinking that my pimples or the leucoderma patches on my face, knees and feet aren't the worst things that have happened to me?

Is it because I don't conform to your models of beauty, elegance and style?

Is it because I am not stingy about paying up for people around me, unlike what seems to be the norm these days?

Is it because you don't matter to me and my life in any consequential way, but you still manage to get me down?

Or in a nutshell, is it because I'm not afraid to be 'me'?

What is then, that makes you treat me this way?

Monday, March 09, 2009

Joblessness drove me to write this post...

It’s funny how extremely unrelated, random thoughts keep zooming across in my head, when I’m trying to think of something coherent to talk about. Not only do I have nothing of consequence to say, there are three thousand other distractions that keep me from doing anything useful.


Someone or the other’s phone keeps ringing every minute of every day. I’ll stop at saying THAT IT DRIVES ME INSANE.


There are a bunch of freaks who’re celebrating Holi in my office. Excuse me, kind folks, but since when did this become a fourth grade classroom? One freak came into my section and forcefully applied colour onto me, despite my protests being loud enough to wake up the dead and their kith and kin. Reason being? Holi nahi khelna bura shagun hota hai. I also consider going for an event (I’m headed for one right now) looking like I had an accident with yellow chalk powder, bad luck. Who knows, I might be sacked!

A couple of ad sales people are discussing the benefits of perming hair, when they should be…erm…selling magazine space? I expect the ads come walking right upto their desks, wait for them to finish discussing their beauty regimes, and then plant themselves straight onto the designated page.

My gora boss keeps walking around the office. And he’s heavy-footed, to say the least.

This woman with a very odd sense of dressing keeps floating in and out of our section like an apparition. I don’t like her coming close to me in a radius of five feet.

Someone on GTalk keeps pinging me and I have to go see what they have to say.

I’m making a list of things I need to buy before my birthday, and the people I need to treat.

It’s hard work to keep typing and keeping yourself from dropping off to sleep on your keyboard.

I’m thinking about what it is that is bothering me. It’s something I can’t place, but it’s keeping me down. It’ll come to me soon enough.

I’m thinking of the lovely hammocks and the greenery at Manoribel Resort. Anyone kind enough to take me back there?

I don’t consider it a good sign if my stomach’s started acting funny. I have eaten much more than I should have for lunch.

Time to leave for the above mentioned event, kind folks. Work beckons! Toodle-oo!

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

You know you've had a REALLY bad day at work when....

1) You get yelled at for your goof-ups, thrice.
2) You get yelled at for someone else's goof-ups.
3) You forget to do something that you've been doing every single day for the past three months, on the ONE day somebody decides to take notice.
4) You think you're getting the chance to finally file a breaking news under your own name, when someone else decides to "help" you. The story hence becomes a "team" copy.
5) Your computer decides it's time to give up on life, and moves onto the last stages of its miserable life.
6) You feel completely alone and lost in an office-ful of people.
7) You miss your mommy the most.
8) You almost have your argument with your best friend.
9) There's a story waiting to be done, but you just can't bear to look at anything remotely related to work.
10) Because of the above point, it means you have to go home and file the story.
11) You're already planning twenty things you need to finish in the next day.
12) Your favourite pen has been taken and not returned. There's no hope to ever see it again, now.
13) You're sitting in office and typing out lists about how depressing your day has been, and make yourself even more miserable.
14) You want to go home, eat your dinner and not ever wake up again.
15) You decide enough is enough, and go order yourself a McChicken burger from McDonalds.

Now you know why I'm depressed. So PLEASE. KEEP away. I bite when provoked.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Aspataal - Pyaar ki ek Masti Bhari Kahaani

Yeah yeah, I know. The three and three quarter people who read this blog have been asking me to update. And while it IS true that I have been busy, it is also true that I have been abusing my free DVD membership from Seventymm to the fullest. Hence, I've been ordering DVDs of Grey's Anatomy, and am about to have my eyes fall out with the amount of medical sciences that I've been watching.

One thing is established, though. It is an AWESOME show. Like, seriously. While quite a few people have been telling me that Scrubs is funnier and nicer, I don't think I can have an opinion on the matter, since I don't watch Scrubs. I also say that your opinion is wrong, and Grey's Anatomy HAS to be the best show there is.

I love how balanced and well-thought out the show is. Not once do you get the feeling that the drama is overtaking the hospital bits, and vice versa. Now if this was an Indian show, this is how it would be:

1) Meredith would get pregnant the first time Derek even THOUGHT of speaking to her, with a whole 'Main tumhare bacche ki ma banane waali hoon', bit thrown in for good measure.

2) Meredith would become chief of surgery in the first month of her internship as a reward for her honesty / intelligence.

3) Christina would have been an annoyingly oversmart character, who'd try her best to be witty.

4) Also, Christina would become a mushy, pink-clothes-loving wuss the second she thought she loved Burke.

5) The entire serial would focus on the hospital staff's (including the watchman and the ward boy) love lives, completely forgetting the main focus of the serial - HEALING fucking patients.

6) There would be a love triangle, where both Meredith and Izzy would fall in love with Derek, and keep giving each other dirty looks.

7) Dr. Addison Shepherd would be this woman clad in cakes of make up, zari sarees and too much eye shadow. Also, she'd have to be the lead vamp in this serial.

8) George would be this stupid sidekick, who'd get all the laughter tracks for being fat and dumb. Also, he'd keep tripping over the wires and confuse the scissors with a syringe.

9) No way would Meredith and Izzy live with a man in the same house without being married. In fact, Meredith would have a LOUD, decked mother, who'd try and get her married off to a rich, Punjabi guy.

10) Meredith would be called Dr. Anjali Malhotra and Derek would be Dr. Karan Shrivastava.

11) Derek would be THE expert on all branches of medicine, including heart, brain, colds, pregnancies, pediatrics, sutures, kidneys, toes, teeth, nose-hair, hiccups, inner thighs and belly buttons. In his spare time, he'd practise marine engineering as a hobby.

12) Izzy and Alex would get married after three months of dating; Alex being all goody two shoes and gushing.

13) The show would be called "Aspataal - Pyaar Mohabbat ki Masti bhari Kahaani".

14) The patients, nurses and peons would give Derek a lot of advice on how NOT to break Meredith's heart and the importance of true love, till the chap divorces his wife out of peer pressure.

What is with Indian audiences and the overt histrionics that have to be a part of every show? Why are we as an audience evolving backwards, instead of moving on to better things and developing a more serious, intelligent taste in the entertainment we seek? I say we're evolving backwards, because the same people who used to watch serials like Karamchand, Buniyaad, now religiously watch K Serials. Stuff that is as improbable as a child being born with perfectly braided hair and pink ribbons.

Will we ever learn to think for ourselves and be ashamed at the stuff we blindly accept on television? I guess not. Till then, excuse me while I go Indianise F.R.I.E.N.D.S.