It's funny how a single status message on GTalk can spur off an entire blog post. And when it's Uglyhair on the other side of the computer, you can expect nothing but entertainment of the lowest kinds. :P Here's why.
A couple of days back, my status message read: WTF lyrics for 16/04/2009: Tere ishq ki deewangi, sar pe chadh ke bole, Tune kya kiya, yeh kya hua? Dil ding daang ding dole....
And Uglyhair, in his usual nosy fashion, cannot resist a comment. Here's an unedited version of what happened next:
Uglyhair: You don't believe the dil can go ding dang ding?
me: Oh I never doubted that!
This was issued in public welfare...
Uglyhair: Here's some for tomorrow...
You bad, you bad, you bad bad boy...
You good, you good, you good good bo-o-ee...
me: LOL
WHAT song is this?
Uglyhair: The title track from the legendary film, Good Boy, Bad Boy...
me: I can think of another one....
Aa ja lag jaa gale se mere thaa kar de, thaa thaa kar de, aa thaa kar de... Aa ja lag jaa gale se mere thaa kar de, thaa thaa kar de, aa thaa kar de...Saare duniya se ishq bayaan kar de, thaa thaa kar de, thaa thaa kar de
Uglyhair: That's not a real song...
me: It is! Golmaal Returns!!
Uglyhair: You can't just make up stuff to malign the Indian film industry...
Tum par case thok dunga...
:P
me: IT IS GOLMAAL RETURNS! HAVEN'T YOU BEEN LISTENING?
Uglyhair: Nope...
:p
I need to, now...
:P
me: Lol
:D
Uglyhair: But I think the most brilliant lyrics are the ones where they try to be super serious, but the situation in the film hams it up...
:P
me: ???
Uglyhair: Like "Danke pe chot padi hai, saamne maut khadi hai, Krishan ne kaha Arjun se, na pyaar jata dushman se, Yudh kar..."
me: Hahaha! which movie?
Uglyhair: In the song, Anil Kapoor is a criminal hanging out in a bar, dressed in a white suit, and three rival gang members are out there to kill him, dressed in black-blue suits, and Jackie Shroff, who is a police inspector, dons a beard and a leather costume, along with his girlfriend Tina Munim, in a similar skimpy leather outfit, so that they can sing in the place and keep an eye on the action...
And the icing, Pran as the police commissioner of the city, also dressed in full leather, running around playing a flute...
I would honestly like to see Hassan Ghafoor show that kind of commitment to his position as Commissioner...
me: Hahahahaha :D :D
Uglyhair: Oh, by the way, did I mention this...
For some reason, the rival gang members, who are there to take out Anil Kapoor, think it's entirely appropriate to incorporate a synchronized dance routine in the middle of their attack...
And surprisingly, they even fail to recognize the commissioner of the police, especially given his stand-out costume and the flute...
me: Hahahahaha...Stop! You're making pot noodles come out through my nose
Uglyhair: Pot noodles will come out of places you never knew they were in the first place...
You imagine Tina Munim is proud of this?
Maybe I should email Anil and ask...
To enlighten yourself, please watch the video of the song under consideration here:
After this entire fruitful exchange, I suppose Uglyhair was pondering over the conversation and also came up with this:
Uglyhair: Moo wait...I think theres been a grave error...
Tu Premi, aaha...
Main Premi, aaha...
Tu raazi, aaha...
Main raazi, aaha...
Phir kya daddy, kya amma...
How did we forget that? :O
After some YouTube searching, I realised he means the following song:
If you didn't think that was funny, go jump into seaweed. :D As for me, I'm going to hum Danke pe chot padi hai and drive the family bonkers! :D
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
The time has now come...
...to carry a bottle of deodorant in your bag, at all times.
I'm not going to be talking about the weather because there's nothing else to talk about. I'm going to talk about the weather, because I want protest against nature's conspiracy to kill me by making me melt. So dear God, if I decide it's cool to die in flames, I'll make my own provision by baking myself in a kiln or something. Could you please pay attention to more pressing topics, like getting me a raise?
For all those who were in Mumbai this last week, and thought it was hot, bop yourself on the head with a pen stand. I can say, with considerable authority, that all the heat was concentrated in Goa. Ask me. I was there. Melting.
Apart from that, Goa was good. Working out of a hotel room, handling an entire website, putting up video interviews, sending out bulletins and the daily newsletter with excruciatingly slow internet connections for company seems amazing now, but you won't believe the colourful vocabularly hurled at the laptop every three minutes while I was in the midst of it.
To start at the beginning, I went to Goa with the rest of the team, for the 2009 Goafest. We were staying at this tramp of a place called 'The Old Anchor', but thankfully, were working out of my editor's room at The Leela. We spent almost 14 hours of day at that exquisite place. I wasn't around for last year's Goafest, but I was told how extremely chaotic it was. This year thankfully, we were sorted. Everyone knew what the other was doing, so there was no time wasted with three people doing the same thing, and you know, stuff like that. I pitied my colleagues, who had to go to the beach at all odd hours of the morning and afternoon, and report back. Since I normally handle the website, most of my work included working out of the room. The few times I did step out, resulted in burnt toes and at least 20 kilos lost with the sheer streams of sweat. It was bad.
The Leela however, was beautiful. Not that we got to see much of it. I did go for a short walk one morning with my editor and his daughter, and it was sheer bliss. The entire place is green and one of the most soothing sights I've ever seen. Greenery abounds the entire property, not to mention flowers of every concievable type and colour. Perhaps what appealed to me the most was the abundance of water bodies around the place. Our own room overlooked a lazy lake, with perfectly pretty cottages on the opposite side. Spare time was spent looking into the various fish that swirled around in the water, and contemplating whether to join their escapades or just be content watching them cool themselves from the glare of the sun. Sigh. Fish have it easy sometimes!
The Leela also has a beautiful private beach. The kind that stretches forever, with the most beautiful beach benches you saw. Again, we didn't get the time to go the beach, since it was midnight by the time we finished every night. But I did catch a glimpse of it from afar. The only thought that went around in my mind was, "Man I want to come here for my honeymoon."
However, I've changed my mind since. About the honeymoon, that is.
Why?
Because I don't think I can spend my entire honeymoon cleaning myself with toilet paper.
Which brings me to another very major topic of discussion. What does the West have against water in relation to personal hygiene (read: cleaning of the posterior) ? And why are their five-star Indian counterparts in the hospitality industry suffering such a colonial hangover? Ok, granted that a lot of foreigners visit these places, and we all know what their ideas of washing up after...ahem...unloading themselves, are. But so what? You're still in India, and there are many five-star Indians who visit these hotels too. And no. Don't you dare say that five-star Indians use only toilet paper. I will tie you up with an entire roll of the same paper, if you do. Will it hurt to have toilet paper and a jet spray? Seriously?
I think I need to calm down. But I feel very strongly against places, that care enough to have a seperate 'pillow menu' (I'm serious. They had a menu for pillows. You could order one that made you most comfortable), didn't think it was necessary to have an attachment that helped me keep my self respect. Toilet paper. Seriously!
Anyway, by the time Goafest was over, there wasn't any time left to have 'fun' at Goa. And anyway, I can't enjoy myself on any trip that doesn't involve my family and close friends. Spending time with colleagues in settings that aren't work related isn't my idea of fun. Barely had time to pick up some junk jewelry and enjoy a drive to the airport.
I'm currently on a six day holiday upto Tuesday. The boss let us take our compensatory offs at a stretch, to help us unwind! :D Bhagwan kare sab ko aisa hi boss mile... Actually not. It's fun to gloat!
See you around next time. :) I'm having a slight stomach-related problem, resulting in slight diarrhoea. Not that I mind. BECAUSE I CAN USE WATER WHEN I'M AT HOME!
I'm not going to be talking about the weather because there's nothing else to talk about. I'm going to talk about the weather, because I want protest against nature's conspiracy to kill me by making me melt. So dear God, if I decide it's cool to die in flames, I'll make my own provision by baking myself in a kiln or something. Could you please pay attention to more pressing topics, like getting me a raise?
For all those who were in Mumbai this last week, and thought it was hot, bop yourself on the head with a pen stand. I can say, with considerable authority, that all the heat was concentrated in Goa. Ask me. I was there. Melting.
Apart from that, Goa was good. Working out of a hotel room, handling an entire website, putting up video interviews, sending out bulletins and the daily newsletter with excruciatingly slow internet connections for company seems amazing now, but you won't believe the colourful vocabularly hurled at the laptop every three minutes while I was in the midst of it.
To start at the beginning, I went to Goa with the rest of the team, for the 2009 Goafest. We were staying at this tramp of a place called 'The Old Anchor', but thankfully, were working out of my editor's room at The Leela. We spent almost 14 hours of day at that exquisite place. I wasn't around for last year's Goafest, but I was told how extremely chaotic it was. This year thankfully, we were sorted. Everyone knew what the other was doing, so there was no time wasted with three people doing the same thing, and you know, stuff like that. I pitied my colleagues, who had to go to the beach at all odd hours of the morning and afternoon, and report back. Since I normally handle the website, most of my work included working out of the room. The few times I did step out, resulted in burnt toes and at least 20 kilos lost with the sheer streams of sweat. It was bad.
The Leela however, was beautiful. Not that we got to see much of it. I did go for a short walk one morning with my editor and his daughter, and it was sheer bliss. The entire place is green and one of the most soothing sights I've ever seen. Greenery abounds the entire property, not to mention flowers of every concievable type and colour. Perhaps what appealed to me the most was the abundance of water bodies around the place. Our own room overlooked a lazy lake, with perfectly pretty cottages on the opposite side. Spare time was spent looking into the various fish that swirled around in the water, and contemplating whether to join their escapades or just be content watching them cool themselves from the glare of the sun. Sigh. Fish have it easy sometimes!
The Leela also has a beautiful private beach. The kind that stretches forever, with the most beautiful beach benches you saw. Again, we didn't get the time to go the beach, since it was midnight by the time we finished every night. But I did catch a glimpse of it from afar. The only thought that went around in my mind was, "Man I want to come here for my honeymoon."
However, I've changed my mind since. About the honeymoon, that is.
Why?
Because I don't think I can spend my entire honeymoon cleaning myself with toilet paper.
Which brings me to another very major topic of discussion. What does the West have against water in relation to personal hygiene (read: cleaning of the posterior) ? And why are their five-star Indian counterparts in the hospitality industry suffering such a colonial hangover? Ok, granted that a lot of foreigners visit these places, and we all know what their ideas of washing up after...ahem...unloading themselves, are. But so what? You're still in India, and there are many five-star Indians who visit these hotels too. And no. Don't you dare say that five-star Indians use only toilet paper. I will tie you up with an entire roll of the same paper, if you do. Will it hurt to have toilet paper and a jet spray? Seriously?
I think I need to calm down. But I feel very strongly against places, that care enough to have a seperate 'pillow menu' (I'm serious. They had a menu for pillows. You could order one that made you most comfortable), didn't think it was necessary to have an attachment that helped me keep my self respect. Toilet paper. Seriously!
Anyway, by the time Goafest was over, there wasn't any time left to have 'fun' at Goa. And anyway, I can't enjoy myself on any trip that doesn't involve my family and close friends. Spending time with colleagues in settings that aren't work related isn't my idea of fun. Barely had time to pick up some junk jewelry and enjoy a drive to the airport.
I'm currently on a six day holiday upto Tuesday. The boss let us take our compensatory offs at a stretch, to help us unwind! :D Bhagwan kare sab ko aisa hi boss mile... Actually not. It's fun to gloat!
See you around next time. :) I'm having a slight stomach-related problem, resulting in slight diarrhoea. Not that I mind. BECAUSE I CAN USE WATER WHEN I'M AT HOME!
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Interesting tag, boring read
Since The White Phoenix has "new best friends", both pass on tags to each other and leave me out. I was going to begin doing it anyway, when The Gentle Whisperer suddenly decided to tag me and make me look like less of a loser. *sulks at Phoenix and Chandni*
So here goes. All you have to do, is write down something that is significant about yourself next to each number from one to ten. Got it? Easy peasy...NOT. Here goes.
1 the maximum number of children I'd be willing to have. If any.
2 is the number of cup noodle packs I must eat, in a week.
3 is the number of times I pee every morning, before I leave for work. (Ok, so you didn't need to know that.)
4 is the time I begin getting fidgety at work and start yearning for home.
5 is the number of people I MUST GTalk with, everyday.
6 is number of holidays I have, at the moment. :P
7 is minimum number of times I swear in a day. Minimum.
8 is number of times I drink coffee at work, on issue closing days.
9 is the date I want to die on. No particular reason. I just think it's a great number to die on.
10 is the number of jobs I want to have worked in, in my career. More would be great. Less, not good.
This was a bloody difficult tag. And mine reads like tripe. Anyway, I tag G@k, The Nicest Geek, Saakshi (if you're still reading) and Sreejit. Have fun!
So here goes. All you have to do, is write down something that is significant about yourself next to each number from one to ten. Got it? Easy peasy...NOT. Here goes.
1 the maximum number of children I'd be willing to have. If any.
2 is the number of cup noodle packs I must eat, in a week.
3 is the number of times I pee every morning, before I leave for work. (Ok, so you didn't need to know that.)
4 is the time I begin getting fidgety at work and start yearning for home.
5 is the number of people I MUST GTalk with, everyday.
6 is number of holidays I have, at the moment. :P
7 is minimum number of times I swear in a day. Minimum.
8 is number of times I drink coffee at work, on issue closing days.
9 is the date I want to die on. No particular reason. I just think it's a great number to die on.
10 is the number of jobs I want to have worked in, in my career. More would be great. Less, not good.
This was a bloody difficult tag. And mine reads like tripe. Anyway, I tag G@k, The Nicest Geek, Saakshi (if you're still reading) and Sreejit. Have fun!
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.
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....
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."
"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.
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?
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!
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Great Bovine Revolution
For those who think cows are dumb:
http://www.3dweb.no/galleri/stuestolbm/bilder/anim1.swf
Don't take us for granted, and don't eat us. (I can eat my fellowcows, since I'm a cannibal).
Keep mooing.
P.S. I don't know how it escaped my mind (Bad, BAD karma), but I forgot to thank The Gentle Whisperer's GTalk status message for this link. So there you go, the credit and link love has been given!
http://www.3dweb.no/galleri/stuestolbm/bilder/anim1.swf
Don't take us for granted, and don't eat us. (I can eat my fellowcows, since I'm a cannibal).
Keep mooing.
P.S. I don't know how it escaped my mind (Bad, BAD karma), but I forgot to thank The Gentle Whisperer's GTalk status message for this link. So there you go, the credit and link love has been given!
Sunday, February 01, 2009
Now if only someone sent me the Pulitzer...
It's such a shame that I've been dedicated this award to The Gentle Whisperer, almost three weeks ago, and I hadn't the time to blog about it (by now I do hope you know that having no time = utmost laziness). Anyway, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, THIS is what has been bestowed upon me. :)
“These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this text into the body of their award.”
Now although I've always believed that the sole purpose of this blog was to keep me from meddling with mom when she was really busy making laddoos or some such stuff, it could also be all of those things mentioned above, if I dwell on the thought intently. Now before you expose me for the fraud that I am, I'm gonna pass it on to some equally fraudulent bloggers, like the following:
1) Monica - Who has been ill for almost the past month, and who's my favourite person at work. Also, she's too nice to be much of a fraud. :P
2) The White Phoenix - Fraud of the first order. Which is why he and I get along like a house on fire, I suppose. I also know he'll take another year to blog about this award.
3) Mani Meow - This woman's one of my favourite bloggers of all time . :) She truly deserves this award.
I know the conditions say I need eight bloggers to pass on this award to, but I'm a fraud so I won't do it. Also I don't have eight blogger friends who would be interested enough to receive the award.
There's lots more to say, but I think I'll leave this post be about the award. :) Take care, my little ones.
“These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this text into the body of their award.”Now although I've always believed that the sole purpose of this blog was to keep me from meddling with mom when she was really busy making laddoos or some such stuff, it could also be all of those things mentioned above, if I dwell on the thought intently. Now before you expose me for the fraud that I am, I'm gonna pass it on to some equally fraudulent bloggers, like the following:
1) Monica - Who has been ill for almost the past month, and who's my favourite person at work. Also, she's too nice to be much of a fraud. :P
2) The White Phoenix - Fraud of the first order. Which is why he and I get along like a house on fire, I suppose. I also know he'll take another year to blog about this award.
3) Mani Meow - This woman's one of my favourite bloggers of all time . :) She truly deserves this award.
I know the conditions say I need eight bloggers to pass on this award to, but I'm a fraud so I won't do it. Also I don't have eight blogger friends who would be interested enough to receive the award.
There's lots more to say, but I think I'll leave this post be about the award. :) Take care, my little ones.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
'Facade' is a fascinating word
It's such a difficult task to put up a mask of happiness, when something's eating you inside. To feign normality and nonchalance, when all you want to do is to look yourself in your room and hug yourself to sleep. Because you don't want anyone to even come close to you.
It's such a tough job swallowing the fact, that someone you trust and look up to, says something that makes you sick and want to retch. When the same someone stood by you when a similar thing happened in the recent past. Why does this hurt more? Because you didn't expect this person to do something like that?
What next? Sulk? Stop talking? Cut calls? Forgive?
Nah. Not this one.
It's such a tough job swallowing the fact, that someone you trust and look up to, says something that makes you sick and want to retch. When the same someone stood by you when a similar thing happened in the recent past. Why does this hurt more? Because you didn't expect this person to do something like that?
What next? Sulk? Stop talking? Cut calls? Forgive?
Nah. Not this one.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Last Christmas, I gave you my heart....
...But the useless readers that you are, you don't even leave me comments these days. Hmph.
YAY! Christmas is here, and tis the season for giving. Now since it's impossible to give all the people I love a present (because I'm broke and miserly), I'm going to be uber cheap and tell them what I'd ideally like to give them. They in turn, can close their eyes and think that they've already received a present from me, or buy it themselves and thank me for it.
So anyhoo. Merry Christmas and a happy new year everyone, and here's your present!
1) Dad - Dear dad, I'm going to gift you a pair of hearing aids, for those umpteen number of times you drive me up the wall by making me repeat everything I say. About. 20,000. Times. Actually, this is more like a present to me. And since you're my favourite guy in the whole world, I'm also going to buy you a Honda Accord like you've always wanted, real soon. Honest! *hugs*
2) Mom - I'm going to give you a sackful of patience and the will to do my bidding. It would most certainly work for you if you didn't tell me to clean my room every single day. But you're also my best buddy, so I'm gonna give you a house by the beach. And I'll be VERY offended if you don't live in it with dad, for at least six months of the year.
3) Sheroo - I'm gonna get you a new leash and a muzzle, and also a library filled with about two million books. You'll never have to complain about having nothing to read, again!
4) The Witty Goldfish - What more could you want, when you have such an amazing sister-in-law like me? Most definitely, those amazing shoes I saw at Nike (as soon as I can afford them. Be patient!)
5) Lammy - A lizard killing spray that annihilates lizards in a radius of 500 feet, and a GRAND wedding with the woman of your choice. Oh oh oh! And how could I forget those pills that cure the "both-feet-in-mouth" disease? I can't believe how thoughtful I am!
6) G@kky - Most definitely, a haircut. Rather, I think I'll gift you a salon, since ONE haircut certainly won't create even a dent in the forest of your hair. Till then, I'll buy you a gaming console of your choice.
7) Tooth - Some sense and loads of peace of mind. Also, a river full of Davidoff Coolwaters and a Tag Heuer watches.
8) Zander - A Hayabusa, whether you want / like / need one or not. Fact of the matter is, I want one with a chauffeur. :P
9) The White Phoenix - A six month paid stint with rehab. People, he's the sole reason the cigarette and alcohol industries are flourishing. Don't believe me? Go read his last post. The nice person in me will also give him a year long supply of Rajdhani tickets and free food at Hard Rock Cafe, so he can pop into Mumbai and visit me whenever he misses me too much.
10) Mika - If wishes were horses, I'd arrange for you to get a scholarship to Vidal Sassoon. So for now, I'm just going to offer you my head and let you do whatever the hell you wanted to do with my hair. Without complaining (Offer exclusive of hair straigtening and colour, thank you very much).
As for me, all you ten people could chip in and buy me a duplex flat on Worli Seaface, and perhaps throw in an Audi on the house (pun unintended) so my garage won't feel empty. In case you're feeling more generous than usual, do feel free to buy me an iPod Classic, a Nike showroom and a Nokia N95. Suggestions are welcome. Do drop me an email.
Thank you for your patience. You are most kind.
*scuttles away*
YAY! Christmas is here, and tis the season for giving. Now since it's impossible to give all the people I love a present (because I'm broke and miserly), I'm going to be uber cheap and tell them what I'd ideally like to give them. They in turn, can close their eyes and think that they've already received a present from me, or buy it themselves and thank me for it.
So anyhoo. Merry Christmas and a happy new year everyone, and here's your present!
1) Dad - Dear dad, I'm going to gift you a pair of hearing aids, for those umpteen number of times you drive me up the wall by making me repeat everything I say. About. 20,000. Times. Actually, this is more like a present to me. And since you're my favourite guy in the whole world, I'm also going to buy you a Honda Accord like you've always wanted, real soon. Honest! *hugs*
2) Mom - I'm going to give you a sackful of patience and the will to do my bidding. It would most certainly work for you if you didn't tell me to clean my room every single day. But you're also my best buddy, so I'm gonna give you a house by the beach. And I'll be VERY offended if you don't live in it with dad, for at least six months of the year.
3) Sheroo - I'm gonna get you a new leash and a muzzle, and also a library filled with about two million books. You'll never have to complain about having nothing to read, again!
4) The Witty Goldfish - What more could you want, when you have such an amazing sister-in-law like me? Most definitely, those amazing shoes I saw at Nike (as soon as I can afford them. Be patient!)
5) Lammy - A lizard killing spray that annihilates lizards in a radius of 500 feet, and a GRAND wedding with the woman of your choice. Oh oh oh! And how could I forget those pills that cure the "both-feet-in-mouth" disease? I can't believe how thoughtful I am!
6) G@kky - Most definitely, a haircut. Rather, I think I'll gift you a salon, since ONE haircut certainly won't create even a dent in the forest of your hair. Till then, I'll buy you a gaming console of your choice.
7) Tooth - Some sense and loads of peace of mind. Also, a river full of Davidoff Coolwaters and a Tag Heuer watches.
8) Zander - A Hayabusa, whether you want / like / need one or not. Fact of the matter is, I want one with a chauffeur. :P
9) The White Phoenix - A six month paid stint with rehab. People, he's the sole reason the cigarette and alcohol industries are flourishing. Don't believe me? Go read his last post. The nice person in me will also give him a year long supply of Rajdhani tickets and free food at Hard Rock Cafe, so he can pop into Mumbai and visit me whenever he misses me too much.
10) Mika - If wishes were horses, I'd arrange for you to get a scholarship to Vidal Sassoon. So for now, I'm just going to offer you my head and let you do whatever the hell you wanted to do with my hair. Without complaining (Offer exclusive of hair straigtening and colour, thank you very much).
As for me, all you ten people could chip in and buy me a duplex flat on Worli Seaface, and perhaps throw in an Audi on the house (pun unintended) so my garage won't feel empty. In case you're feeling more generous than usual, do feel free to buy me an iPod Classic, a Nike showroom and a Nokia N95. Suggestions are welcome. Do drop me an email.
Thank you for your patience. You are most kind.
*scuttles away*
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Issued in public interest - GET MARRIED IN COURT, YOU DUMBFUCKS!
My sister, Sheroo as she is popularly known in these parts of town, recently got married to the Witty Goldfish, and I want to bash both of them up. Her because she chose to go away leaving me all lonesome on my ownsome, and him, simply because he's the root cause of all evil. :( Now I've no one to pway wif, and no one pull weird faces at during dinner.
The wedding was something I've never seen before, really. That's not saying much, since I've attended about six weddings all my life (including my sister's) and the last one was around eight years ago. Sheroo is very anti-social, and had firmly told my parents that she didn't want the multitude of relatives and the usual fanfare. So she did what every person on the planet should do - get married in court.
We reached court at about 10 am, and we were out by 11.30 or so. Simple, easy and non-messy. There are a few obvious pros and cons to the whole affair, as is natural with all affairs. Let me list them for you (forgive the lists, but I'm a complete lists person):
Pros:
1) It's quick, easy and convinient.
2) It's so goddamned cheap, that you can fill your entire house with appliances and indulge yourself with a grand honeymoon, JUST with the money you can save with the wedding.
3) You aren't obliged to call people you completely detest, and watch them eat the food YOU'RE paying for.
4) There's no need to wear those ghastly sarees, especially if you're a jeans person.
5) There are no crowds to suffocate you. It can be just immediate family.
6) Since you normally don't get to enjoy the food at your own wedding, this is a cool option. You can simply just go and have lunch with those select few special people who matter.
7) There's no hours and hours of standing on stage with a plastic smile.
8) There's no need to cake your face with layers of bridal make up.
Cons:
1) The registrar makes you wait for ages, simply because he decides to turn up late.
2) If you're going for a dreamy, romantic wedding, this is the last place you should go to. It's more like getting married in a train.
3) There's hardly any place to sit and click pictures once you're done.
I think that's it with the cons. See? Eight pros and three cons. You have your obvious choice. When I get married, that's what I'm gonna do. Marry in court and then spend three weeks in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, or maybe Mauritius. Cool no?
Interested parties may email me. Offer valid till interest lasts.
Amen.
The wedding was something I've never seen before, really. That's not saying much, since I've attended about six weddings all my life (including my sister's) and the last one was around eight years ago. Sheroo is very anti-social, and had firmly told my parents that she didn't want the multitude of relatives and the usual fanfare. So she did what every person on the planet should do - get married in court.
We reached court at about 10 am, and we were out by 11.30 or so. Simple, easy and non-messy. There are a few obvious pros and cons to the whole affair, as is natural with all affairs. Let me list them for you (forgive the lists, but I'm a complete lists person):
Pros:
1) It's quick, easy and convinient.
2) It's so goddamned cheap, that you can fill your entire house with appliances and indulge yourself with a grand honeymoon, JUST with the money you can save with the wedding.
3) You aren't obliged to call people you completely detest, and watch them eat the food YOU'RE paying for.
4) There's no need to wear those ghastly sarees, especially if you're a jeans person.
5) There are no crowds to suffocate you. It can be just immediate family.
6) Since you normally don't get to enjoy the food at your own wedding, this is a cool option. You can simply just go and have lunch with those select few special people who matter.
7) There's no hours and hours of standing on stage with a plastic smile.
8) There's no need to cake your face with layers of bridal make up.
Cons:
1) The registrar makes you wait for ages, simply because he decides to turn up late.
2) If you're going for a dreamy, romantic wedding, this is the last place you should go to. It's more like getting married in a train.
3) There's hardly any place to sit and click pictures once you're done.
I think that's it with the cons. See? Eight pros and three cons. You have your obvious choice. When I get married, that's what I'm gonna do. Marry in court and then spend three weeks in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, or maybe Mauritius. Cool no?
Interested parties may email me. Offer valid till interest lasts.
Amen.
Friday, December 19, 2008
So bored, I'm actually contemplating washing the office loo...
The Fridays after issue closing are the toughest ones to battle. You're supposed to sit around looking all intelligent and busy, when there's absolutely nothing to do, and even lesser inclination to work. The weekend that looms over your head then does not help matters, either. So you end up hitting refresh on your Gmail till the mouse gives up on you, while simultaneously scouting for long lost friends to catch up with over chat (who miraculously are never online when you want to and can talk).
Today is one such utterly frustrating day. My boss isn't around either, and my colleague and I are absolutely at our wit's end on how to pass the time fruitfully. She's Facebooking and Twittering away to glory, but that's losing it's charm too. (On a completely side note, Facebook should come up with something that makes your profile look weirdly interesting, everytime you say refresh. HEY! Don't steal that idea and make millions out it, Mark Zuckerberg!) I'm blogging, and so far this is my third attempt at coming up with an articulate post. Man! I'd prefer the madness of issue closing days to shitty days like these, when you know you could have given a satisfied "after-lunch" burp at home instead, and curled up for an afternoon nap.
Let's see. So far, I've called up mum twice for absolutely no reason, with a cheery, "What are you doing, ma?" To which she tells me what she's been upto, patiently, secretly wondering if her youngest daughter's smoked up. "You're feeling ok, right?" she asks me, very unsure about my mental sanity.
" *giggle* yeah Mom. Don't worry. I love you." I say, and I sign off.
Who to bug next? I pick on Ro, my favourite family member outside my immediate family. I kept telling him to "SAY SOMETHING" even when he was talking, so he finally told me to take a flying one. And now he's gone too. :(
The White Phoenix was sulking with me about something else, and I did not make matters any better by laughing at him. Result? Guess guess. He stopped replying. Seriously, if I continue like this much longer, I won't have any friends or family left. Boohoo! :'(
I also called up Lammy twice in the space of half an hour. One time the guy was out buying eggs I believe, and the other time he was talking to his aunty. Nobody has time for me. Nobody loves me. :(
Now I'm going to go, and play some pictionary online on http://www.isketch.net/. If you choose to play in office, don't tell anyone I told you about the link. :P Have fun! And have an equally awesome weekend. :D
Today is one such utterly frustrating day. My boss isn't around either, and my colleague and I are absolutely at our wit's end on how to pass the time fruitfully. She's Facebooking and Twittering away to glory, but that's losing it's charm too. (On a completely side note, Facebook should come up with something that makes your profile look weirdly interesting, everytime you say refresh. HEY! Don't steal that idea and make millions out it, Mark Zuckerberg!) I'm blogging, and so far this is my third attempt at coming up with an articulate post. Man! I'd prefer the madness of issue closing days to shitty days like these, when you know you could have given a satisfied "after-lunch" burp at home instead, and curled up for an afternoon nap.
Let's see. So far, I've called up mum twice for absolutely no reason, with a cheery, "What are you doing, ma?" To which she tells me what she's been upto, patiently, secretly wondering if her youngest daughter's smoked up. "You're feeling ok, right?" she asks me, very unsure about my mental sanity.
" *giggle* yeah Mom. Don't worry. I love you." I say, and I sign off.
Who to bug next? I pick on Ro, my favourite family member outside my immediate family. I kept telling him to "SAY SOMETHING" even when he was talking, so he finally told me to take a flying one. And now he's gone too. :(
The White Phoenix was sulking with me about something else, and I did not make matters any better by laughing at him. Result? Guess guess. He stopped replying. Seriously, if I continue like this much longer, I won't have any friends or family left. Boohoo! :'(
I also called up Lammy twice in the space of half an hour. One time the guy was out buying eggs I believe, and the other time he was talking to his aunty. Nobody has time for me. Nobody loves me. :(
Now I'm going to go, and play some pictionary online on http://www.isketch.net/. If you choose to play in office, don't tell anyone I told you about the link. :P Have fun! And have an equally awesome weekend. :D
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Ode to a Lammy
A great day has gone by me, and I'm so afraid of losing it to a tomorrow that might not be as glamorous as today. One thing was completely missing, though. That would be the Lammy's frivolous banter on GTalk.
Lammy is my best f(r)iend in the history of friends (after Mika, obviously, before she bursts a vein). For the past six-seven months that I know him, he's constantly been around to remind me that there can be no one more inquisitive, in-your-face, tiresome and adorable than he is. Like I said, I've known him for a mere seven months now, but it just goes to show that a mere notion like 'time' cannot define what equation you will have with a person. If it clicks, it clicks. If it doesn't, it never will. And that's the golden rule of all relationships.
It's just so queer how used you get to someone's e-presence to get you through the day. He's currently on a two-week leave, for his cousin's wedding, Christmas, etc. and I'm almost clinically depressed at how much I'm going to miss the man. I'm almost repenting for all the times he's cribbed about his office and I've told him to shut up, wishing I'd given him more time while he was around. Now there's hardly anyone interesting to talk to online, and since I don't mix around with my colleagues too much, I think I'll just have to pretend about working, a lot harder than usual. Or perhaps just open a book and start reading when I feel like it (and get sacked, too!).
So Lammy, it's killing me to say this and I'm almost choking, but you'd better get your goofy butt back to work soon. I'm missing all the free rickshaw rides in the morning (my traveling spends have taken a sudden upward turn), the 'have a nice day, you COW' messages when I get off the train, the endless reports on all the hot girls spotted in the day, the sheer disappointment of discovering that I haven't seen a good movie he feels so strongly about, the endless hints, begging and pleading that I dedicate a post to him on my blog (THERE! I hope you're happy now), and the utterly random messages in the middle of a crisis at work. I'm missing it all. :(
Come back soon, Lammy. Work's not the same without you talking nonsense at the other side of the screen. Actually, life's not the same without your madness and friendship. Loadsa love. :)
P.S. Will courier you the exact amount you owe me for this piece. Because, sweetheart, nothing in life is ever free! :P
Lammy is my best f(r)iend in the history of friends (after Mika, obviously, before she bursts a vein). For the past six-seven months that I know him, he's constantly been around to remind me that there can be no one more inquisitive, in-your-face, tiresome and adorable than he is. Like I said, I've known him for a mere seven months now, but it just goes to show that a mere notion like 'time' cannot define what equation you will have with a person. If it clicks, it clicks. If it doesn't, it never will. And that's the golden rule of all relationships.
It's just so queer how used you get to someone's e-presence to get you through the day. He's currently on a two-week leave, for his cousin's wedding, Christmas, etc. and I'm almost clinically depressed at how much I'm going to miss the man. I'm almost repenting for all the times he's cribbed about his office and I've told him to shut up, wishing I'd given him more time while he was around. Now there's hardly anyone interesting to talk to online, and since I don't mix around with my colleagues too much, I think I'll just have to pretend about working, a lot harder than usual. Or perhaps just open a book and start reading when I feel like it (and get sacked, too!).
So Lammy, it's killing me to say this and I'm almost choking, but you'd better get your goofy butt back to work soon. I'm missing all the free rickshaw rides in the morning (my traveling spends have taken a sudden upward turn), the 'have a nice day, you COW' messages when I get off the train, the endless reports on all the hot girls spotted in the day, the sheer disappointment of discovering that I haven't seen a good movie he feels so strongly about, the endless hints, begging and pleading that I dedicate a post to him on my blog (THERE! I hope you're happy now), and the utterly random messages in the middle of a crisis at work. I'm missing it all. :(
Come back soon, Lammy. Work's not the same without you talking nonsense at the other side of the screen. Actually, life's not the same without your madness and friendship. Loadsa love. :)
P.S. Will courier you the exact amount you owe me for this piece. Because, sweetheart, nothing in life is ever free! :P
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Of 20 hour long issue closings, and sleep well-earned...
It's been 20 hours straight I've been at work, and funnily enough, I'm not as sleepy as I thought I'd be. The world's slightly spinning, yes, and the head is beginning to pound, but what's new about that? We've closed the most wonderful issue of the entire year - an issue I'm going to be so fiercely proud of, that it's not even funny. I'm poured my heart, blood, sweat, sleep, weekend, family time, everything into the past two weeks, because of the issue that's going to be printed tonight, and hitting the stands tomorrow. I almost feel like going to the press and ensuring they don't mess things up.
And before you ask, no, I don't have any bylines in this issue either, nor a whole column to myself. But it doesn't matter at all, when you know you've done your best with your bit, and your bit has been one of the most important ones in the entire process. So would the issue have shut down if I wasn't around for some reason? Of course not. But I know I've made things much easier for everyone around, and things would have been much more difficult if it wasn't for me.
It's nice to know you've done something of consequence.
It's best to know you've earned that peaceful sleep...the kind that takes you to worlds unknown, the minute your head touches your pillow.
And before you ask, no, I don't have any bylines in this issue either, nor a whole column to myself. But it doesn't matter at all, when you know you've done your best with your bit, and your bit has been one of the most important ones in the entire process. So would the issue have shut down if I wasn't around for some reason? Of course not. But I know I've made things much easier for everyone around, and things would have been much more difficult if it wasn't for me.
It's nice to know you've done something of consequence.
It's best to know you've earned that peaceful sleep...the kind that takes you to worlds unknown, the minute your head touches your pillow.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Life's lessons learnt
There's a lot been happening in my life. Some things I can talk about, some things I can't. At least not here. Meet me on the other blog and I might tell you.
Anyway, having a really hectic week at work. There's a lot of stuff planned for the last and final issue of the year, and for once, I'm doing something that contributes to whatever the final product is going to be. I've always given it my best, but somehow I don't think anyone would miss me too much if I were to quit. That's not a very good thought. In fact, it makes me wanna quit at times, but hey! Nobody's going to elevate a junior to a pedestal in any case, are they?
I'm going to make this post about work. Because quite frankly, it's one of the things I really need to talk about. Last Wednesday, I got a "chat" from my boss, where he made me look at things quite differently. Some places, I admit he was a little unreasonable. Places where he expected me to come to work on my sister's wedding day, just because there was closing. In spite of me taking leave for just two days, in the first place. Anyway, he made me feel like a worm, and boy was I seething with anger! I spent almost four days clinically depressed at work, thinking everybody hated me. Entering office became a punishment, I couldn't wait enough for it to become five o'clock, when I could finally leave. I had almost made up my mind to quit on January 1, and get back to studying in June (which I'm going to do in any case). Mum tried to understand me, always trying to dissuade me from taking a hasty decision. Lammy kept telling me to quit if I was that depressed, but to remember that shit like this happened at every job.
Now, a full week and a half later, I think I've calmed down. I don't feel as insulted as I did, earlier. More importantly, I've learned my BIG lesson from the whole episode. That whatever I may think of myself, I'm still a snotty-faced junior in the industry, with infinite things to learn, a ego I must learn to banish and remember that nobody has anything against me, personally. I've also realised I've been a fool to not have understood this a full week earlier, instead of waiting for the blessed 5 pm time. Am I a government employee to watch the clock tick and pack my bags? Hell, no.
Since last Monday, there has been a lot of pressure at work, resulting in 13 hour days, etc. But you know what? Quite apart from the tiredness felt at the end of the day when you hit the sack, there's a certain indescribable feeling about giving it your 100% best and knowing that it was all you could have done in the day. And that's what makes it so worthwhile. So my boss yelled at me...So what? It was because I was not doing things the way I ought to have done. He's also gracious enough to acknowledge a job well done, without a second thought. He's considerate at all times when you're ill (even if it's closing time). At such times too, I'm a junior. But he still gives me the consideration that's due to me. He's impatient and unreasonable at all times, but he's also patient enough to explain why your story can be written in another way, and why you're wrong when you are. And in my mind I'm really lucky to have a boss like that at the beginning of my career, who teaches me not to make rookie mistakes. I learn so much from him, it's not even funny; little tips that are lessons for life. But above everything else, he's a great and ethical human being, so there's never a time when you have to compromise between 'exclusives' and integrity.
My first job has been quite a learning experience. I keep complaining about how I don't get more stories to do, at a time when I need more bylines. About how I'm only doing donkey work, when I do can do the stories the others get to do. But I've been doing a lot of thinking (!) and understood that everyone comes up this way. Nobody starts at the top, and whoever does, is never very successful. That my colleagues who get to certain stories and columns, may not be that much older than me, but know certain things I don't. Either they've been educated in a related field, or been working for about two or three years longer than I have. So basically, I've realised that nobody got it easy. Everyone has started from the bottom, and I have to, too.
Have I been immature in wanting so much out of my first six months at a full time job? Have I been stupid to even for a minute, think I've been victimised? Maybe. But I'm sure glad that I can look at things differently, now. At the onset, I know there will be times when I forget my own goody blog post, and go back to hating everything around me and wishing everyone was shot dead. But then, who doesn't have those times? But I also know I'll calm down and try and extract the good from whatever happens and leave the rest aside. That's why a person has two ears, in the first place.
Lastly, I keep telling myself that I'm not a quitter. That's what I'm bloody well going to prove out of this whole phase. I'll quit when I have to, only because of further education. Not because my boss yelled at me to get my act together. Hah!
Anyway, having a really hectic week at work. There's a lot of stuff planned for the last and final issue of the year, and for once, I'm doing something that contributes to whatever the final product is going to be. I've always given it my best, but somehow I don't think anyone would miss me too much if I were to quit. That's not a very good thought. In fact, it makes me wanna quit at times, but hey! Nobody's going to elevate a junior to a pedestal in any case, are they?
I'm going to make this post about work. Because quite frankly, it's one of the things I really need to talk about. Last Wednesday, I got a "chat" from my boss, where he made me look at things quite differently. Some places, I admit he was a little unreasonable. Places where he expected me to come to work on my sister's wedding day, just because there was closing. In spite of me taking leave for just two days, in the first place. Anyway, he made me feel like a worm, and boy was I seething with anger! I spent almost four days clinically depressed at work, thinking everybody hated me. Entering office became a punishment, I couldn't wait enough for it to become five o'clock, when I could finally leave. I had almost made up my mind to quit on January 1, and get back to studying in June (which I'm going to do in any case). Mum tried to understand me, always trying to dissuade me from taking a hasty decision. Lammy kept telling me to quit if I was that depressed, but to remember that shit like this happened at every job.
Now, a full week and a half later, I think I've calmed down. I don't feel as insulted as I did, earlier. More importantly, I've learned my BIG lesson from the whole episode. That whatever I may think of myself, I'm still a snotty-faced junior in the industry, with infinite things to learn, a ego I must learn to banish and remember that nobody has anything against me, personally. I've also realised I've been a fool to not have understood this a full week earlier, instead of waiting for the blessed 5 pm time. Am I a government employee to watch the clock tick and pack my bags? Hell, no.
Since last Monday, there has been a lot of pressure at work, resulting in 13 hour days, etc. But you know what? Quite apart from the tiredness felt at the end of the day when you hit the sack, there's a certain indescribable feeling about giving it your 100% best and knowing that it was all you could have done in the day. And that's what makes it so worthwhile. So my boss yelled at me...So what? It was because I was not doing things the way I ought to have done. He's also gracious enough to acknowledge a job well done, without a second thought. He's considerate at all times when you're ill (even if it's closing time). At such times too, I'm a junior. But he still gives me the consideration that's due to me. He's impatient and unreasonable at all times, but he's also patient enough to explain why your story can be written in another way, and why you're wrong when you are. And in my mind I'm really lucky to have a boss like that at the beginning of my career, who teaches me not to make rookie mistakes. I learn so much from him, it's not even funny; little tips that are lessons for life. But above everything else, he's a great and ethical human being, so there's never a time when you have to compromise between 'exclusives' and integrity.
My first job has been quite a learning experience. I keep complaining about how I don't get more stories to do, at a time when I need more bylines. About how I'm only doing donkey work, when I do can do the stories the others get to do. But I've been doing a lot of thinking (!) and understood that everyone comes up this way. Nobody starts at the top, and whoever does, is never very successful. That my colleagues who get to certain stories and columns, may not be that much older than me, but know certain things I don't. Either they've been educated in a related field, or been working for about two or three years longer than I have. So basically, I've realised that nobody got it easy. Everyone has started from the bottom, and I have to, too.
Have I been immature in wanting so much out of my first six months at a full time job? Have I been stupid to even for a minute, think I've been victimised? Maybe. But I'm sure glad that I can look at things differently, now. At the onset, I know there will be times when I forget my own goody blog post, and go back to hating everything around me and wishing everyone was shot dead. But then, who doesn't have those times? But I also know I'll calm down and try and extract the good from whatever happens and leave the rest aside. That's why a person has two ears, in the first place.
Lastly, I keep telling myself that I'm not a quitter. That's what I'm bloody well going to prove out of this whole phase. I'll quit when I have to, only because of further education. Not because my boss yelled at me to get my act together. Hah!
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