Money, money, everywhere but not a coin to spend!

It's that frightful season again. The season where vacations are almost over, and you're moping about all over the place because you don't want to go that frightful hellhole (Read: school / college) you left behind last term. Seriously, why didn't I burn the building the last time, yaar, you question yourself over and over, but the reopening day just looms closer, in answer. Familiar? And don't say you enjoyed going to school / college, dear reader. Because traitors aren't allowed on my blog. :P

This year's funny for me though. I've just appeared for my TYBA exams, and don't plan to complete my Masters or anything immediately. So the next logical thing for me to do is take up a job, which I would really love to do. It's a weird feeling, of not going to a new year of education this year, but to something that grown ups seem to do. For at least a year or two (till I resume my education again), it'll be a life of catching trains, struggling to make it on time, working, mad colleagues, learning to grin and bear it, and so many other things. Wow! I'm growing up. And kindly don't leave 'you-think-working-life's-gonna-be-easy-think-again' messages. I know it's going to be trying. But just let me discover it for myself, ok? Thanks.

Now when I get my first salary, I need to buy quite a lot of things. I can't keep asking mum and dad for the dough every two days. Aaaargh! Goodness knows I need a job that pays me at least a lakh per month. That should be enough, me thinks. For now, these are an absolute priority. And I'm thinking of pawning my pearlies till I raise the funds for all my needs. (I DO have very pretty pearlies. You can eat your dinner off them!). Here goes:

1. An external harddisk (For the amazing movies stuck on Mikachu's computer).
   
2. A Creative Mp3 player (To filter out the rubbish songs that the gym churns out. Race songs, to be precise.)
3. Books. At last count, there are about 7,567 books that I want to read.
4. Get enough fuel and roam about in my car. In your FACE, railways!
   
5. Gym clothes. Track pants especially. Also, I saw these amazing Nike tees that I must own. Damn you, Rebecca Bloomwood! (What? Shouldn't I be rewarded for my dedication?)
6. Gym shoes for dad. The ones he currently owns are a nasty grey that I refuse to acknowledge.
   
7. Clothes. For the rains. I haven't shopped in the entire summer, so I simply must, now. I NEED CLOTHES. For those of you horrible ones who have money at your disposal, Inorbit has some really good stuff you'd like. AND DO NOT WASTE MONEY ON CROCS. (Hate you for back-stabbing me on that one, Mikachu! :O)
   
8. Bags. Jute. Leather. Everything. Raid. Baggit. Atria Mall.
9. Mikachu's 21st birthday. Want to give her a birthday she can talk about to her five hundred grandchildren on her deathbed.
10. A big treat when the White Phoenix comes to Mumbai. Since that isn't happening ever, my money's safe.
11. Take a trip out of the city. The last time I went out was to Kashid. Last year. Funnily enough, on the first of June itself. :'( This time though, I'm gonna catch a flight.
    
12. Buy lovely stuff for the all the people I love. To death.
    
13. Try out Thai food. (Now why haven't I done that before?)

Ok, that's a scary list. I stopped adding items to that before I jumped off the terrace. Maybe tthe ones in my head will go away if I ignore them. Worth a shot, no? Perhaps selling my teeth as antiques from the Mauryan dynasty, to an unsuspecting foreigner at Colaba, is the only way to raise enough money for my escapades. :( Why is all the money in the world with Paris Hilton, Mukesh Ambani and the lecherous fatso Vijay Mallya?

Beats me.

Signing off. Hopefully the next time I update, I'll have a job or something.

*Sigh*

A-moosing, innit?

Your resident cow, Moo, is truly flattered at the overwhelming attention she's receiving from her faithful readers. :D Thus, as promised, she has decided to make a post of all the Moo-isms that have been churned out in honour of her. For this, she would like to thank the Overrated Outcast for spreading the idea like an epidemic, G@k for being a quick learner, The Mugger Much who doesn't like to be left behind, the White Phoenix who is simply a copy cat and Mikachu, who cannot resist taking part in anything to do with me. So here goes nothing! And thanks to the efforts of the aforementioned blokes, Moo now knows what it is like, to be Bruce Lee. I bet no other living person has this feeling. ;)

Moo now proceeds with the task at hand:

Q: Which is Moo's favorite Prabhudeva Song?
A: Moo-quabla


Q: Which is Moo's favorite cocktail?
A : A Moo-tini


Q: Which is Moo's favorite city in the US?
A: Moo York


Q: If Moo was made the Chief Minister of Maharashtra what would Bombay be called?
A: Moo-mbai


Q: Which is Moo's favorite Karisma Kapoor song?
A: What is Moo-bile number!!


Q: What will Moo's "suhaagraat" be called?
A: The Moo-n landing


Q: Why does Moo keep watching Umraao Jaan?
A: Because she loves the Moo-jra


Q: What scooter does Moo drive?
A: A moo-ped


Q: What is Moo always wondering about?
A: To Moo or not to Moo


Q: Why is Moo a cannibal?
A: Because she eats beef.


Q: Who did Moo vote for in the UN secretary general elections? [or Moo's favorite Thai abuse]
A: Ban Ki Moo


Q: What drink does Moo ask for in a sports bar?
A: The Moo Shake


Q: Where does Moo go for a night out?
A: To the Moo-vies


Q: Why doesn't Moo do any work?
A: Because she has lots of Moo-lah


Q: What did the French guy call Moo?
A: Le Moo

(Moo credits The Overrated Outcast for the above gems).


Q: Moo's fav dance number?
A: Moo-ngda!


Q: Moo's fav cricketeer
A: Moo-ttiah Moo-ralitharan


Q: What is Moo's favourite Marathi Song?
A: Mi tujha mama, de mala Moo-ka!

Q: What is Moo's favourite dance step?
A: The Moo-n walk!


Q: Moo's fav beauty product?
A: Moo-ltani mitti.


Q: Moo's fav moo-vie dialogue?
A: Moo-gambo khush hua!


Q: Why will moo always be a lil girl?
A: Kyuki Moo-ch nahi to kuch nahi!

(...G@K came up with the ones above. Sigh! :D).

Q: What would you call Moo if she decided to blow up people professionally for a living?
A: Moo-jahideen

Q: How would you congratulate Moo if she married Obama and dressed up sluttily for the occasion?
Q: Moo-barack Ho.

Of course, Moo's favourite food crop is obviously "Moo-ng Dal".

Q: Moo's favourite South Indian diety?
A: Moo-rugan.

Q: Moo's favourite Bollywood gangster?
A: Moo-na Bhai.

Q: Moo's favourite civic hangout?
A: The Moo-seum.

Q: Moo's favourite district of Bihar?
A: Moo-nger.

Q: What weird-smelling vegetable do you get if you cross the Moo with Jet Li?
A: Moo-li !!

(Courtesy: The Mugger Much)

Q: What kind of money does Moo like?
A: Moo-lah


Q: What will moo have if she goes for a sex-change?
A: A Moo-stache.


Q: Moo's fav bollywood song for abt her nymphomaniac neighbour(if there's one)?
A: Padosan apni Moo-rgi ko rakhna sambhal mera Moo-rga hua hai deewana.

Q: When does Moo fart the most?
A: When she eats Moo-li parantha!

(That was the White Phoenix jumping on the bandwagon)


Q: What does Moo say when she's troubled?
A: Moo-si-bat hai!

(Mikachu came up with that!)


Q: What will the world know Moo's kid as?
A: A Moo-latto! :D

(Teehee...I came up with that!)

Mikachu, oh Mikachu...What do we do with you?

Fine. FINE. I'll write about it. But only because I want to.

Have I told you about my pet, Mikachu? Well, she's this crazy, freak I know, and I love to death. She's funny, random, quirky, impulsive and all the things I'm not. I'm not going to make this verbose, and just say that Miks is one of the bestest things that have happened to me in a while. She's THE ideal gal pal. :)

So I get this random call from her yesterday, telling me she wanted to meet up. Huh? On a Sunday afternoon? Can't it wait? NO. It can't. Meet at Bandra, will give instructions when you alight. 5ish. Click, went telephone.

Sigh. OK. Off I waddled (standing in the train all the way to Bandra) and I was given mafia style instructions by Mikachu's boyfriend (what do we call him?) to get to the place they were. What the fuck was with the suspense anyway? Were these people into drugs? Sex trafficking? With a weird sense of foreboding, I reached the place I was asked to come to. And was given a big grin and a welcome by her boyfriend (who we shall call Y) and I understood.

Of course. A tattoo parlour. I KNEW it.

We enter the tattoo parlour, and I'm greeted by a HUGGGGEEEEEE scream and a big hug from Mikachu. Followed by an annoyed look by the tattoo artist, who smiles at me. My eye wanders over to Mikachu's left ankle where inscribed is one of the most beautiful tattoos I've ever seen. It's in the form of a creeper, but instead of just leaves and flowers, there are words that the creeper is made of. 12 words, that describe Mikachu, or are symbolic of what she wants to be. Beautiful idea, really. And what I loved most about the idea is, that the entire idea was designed by Y, and the words are in his handwriting. The tattoo artist made an exact copy of the design, and inscribed it. That's what makes it so much more special. Y was only short of tattooing her himself! :)

I admit my teeth went all chatter-y with the ugly buzz of the needle. I hate the sound. I'd prefer getting poked in my gums by a dentist (which I quite like, actually), but to each, his own. At the end of the business, Mikachu has a beautiful tattoo and a lovely smile pasted on her face (which got a bit alarming later since she refused to stop smiling). I'd have posted pictures of her tattoo, except she doesn't want 'plagiarizing whore bitches hijacking her lovely, lovely tattoo'. Fair 'nuff!

People get weird stuff tattooed onto themselves. And in weird places too. The guy who owned the tattoo parlour Mikachu was in, has a tattoo on his tongue, and even on the soft skin below the tongue (and behind your lower teeth). Ouch! That mustn't have felt ticklish. There are some wierdos who get their girlfriends' faces etc. tattooed on various parts of the body. Just one question for these losers.

What do you do when you break up? ;)

Edited to add: As of now, we have 21 Moo-isms. For those who want to see a seperate post for them, keep adding more pearls of wisdom. :D Man, I feel like Bruce Lee! :P

Pickled Tink *hic*

(Warning: Long post, but extremely well-written and worthless).

So after about a zillion weeks, Zander was sweet enough to take Moo out for a fun day to Inorbit. For those one and quarter faithful readers who've been tracking my health over the last two weeks, I'm much better now. Stomach upset is kinda there sometimes, but nevertheless, I decided to go hog on a very big lunch even if it proved to be my last supper. So this is what I ate:

1) Half a pasta (the spiral kind, dunno what it's called) with rose sauce (not the flower, but basically tomato and cream), and loadsa veggies.
2) One chicken drumstick in some amazing sauce.
3) A diet coke after what seems like a decade.
4) Half Chicken Caesar Salad from Pizza Hut
5) Half a Pepperoni Pizza with lots of cheese.
6) Half sizzling brownie with vanilla ice-cream (Courtesy: Cafe Coffee Day)
7) Lots of water.

* burp *

I think I ate enough for three Ethiopian adults. * hic *

Anyhoo, Zander and I roamed about for a zillion ages after that, looking at stuff in Lifestyle and Shoppers' Stop, after finally concluding that Calvin Klein and other assorted brands need to be reported for extortion. Call me cheap, but how can you justify a stupid plain yellow tee (the colour of pale poop, to be precise) at a price of 2500 bucks? I mean, did you forget a decimal after 5, or something? Silly, everyday jeans you wouldn't look at twice, priced at 3400 bucks, while somewhere else a white racerback with polka dots is supposedly worth a grand. I'm very fond of good clothes myself, and with friends like Mikachu, one really tends to become Rebecca Bloomwood, but let's face it. I'd rather use my crisp 1000 rupee notes as toilet paper, than throw it away on some random piece of ' branded' textile that you wouldn't even spit on. Pah!

What is the big deal about brands anyway? What is it about brands that make us so patronising towards people who buy clothes from regular stores? Personally, I have a few brands I completely adore, like Lee / Levis for jeans. I have yet to come across other brands which makes jeans like they're meant exclusively for my bum. Same goes for Adidas t-shirts. It's the comfort and fit that matters the most to me, although I've bought so many clothes and kurtis from random stores just because they were nice. But, I have a cousin who will buy tees and jerseys from Adidas or Nike, simply because he can yak about them to his friends later. Another friend has a stupid pair of Police sunglasses worth 10k, which I'm not sure he could even afford at the time. And believe me, they do nothing to distinguish him from the ass that he is. Cliched as it may sound, I still firmly believe that class and attitude comes from within. Don't try too hard by going to fancy places, unless you LIKE the stuff you're spending on. No one cares that much, really. So, the next time someone wants to dress up in street clothes, don't forget he may be more stylish than you are, what with your branded wear and all. I can't count the number of time women in ridiculously expensive clothes (and horrendously ugly) by Anita Dongre (AND, as her brand likes to be addressed) have made me guffaw. When you have style, it shows. Wearing clothes by AND, BUT, EITHER and OR isn't really the answer, people! Pasted that in your hat? Good. Now go dress nicely.

In other news, I've finally received the damned blog award that's been going around in circles, but never coming to me. Although I have a problem with it being pink, it will have to do. Maybe I'll get Zander to photoshop it into a deep blue or something. :P The Gentle Whisperer said so many kind words while parting with the award, that I was moo-ved to tears. Ok, so that was a sad one. :P Anyhoo, here goes my blog award!


I'm not sure I deserve this award, because I've seldom done anything for social welfare on my blog. Let's see, so far, I've laughed at the Chinese for their atrocious English (can't say I regret it though. It's still one of my favourite posts :P), I've only whined and whined about myself (although you can't say I didn't warn you ;)), been really mean about small girls who fell into the drain (and who unfortunately came out alive), written banal poetry, wished pedestrians were dead (ah, that was a fun, FUN, time!), written about 'my knight in shining armour' and some other stuff I'd rather not mention. The only worthwhile things I remember writing about is the social work bit and the RTO post. Weak defences, but will have to do. Sigh! It's been so long. So much time spent in observing people, their habits, exaggerating, mocking, being bitchy (if I don't like them) and then writing about them, watching the comments flow. If you've been the butt of my ridicule, all I can say is, behave yourself the next time. ;)

It's now time to pass on the honours. It was a tough choice to make, since most of my readers have a) either received the fucking thing before I did (hmph!), or b) don't even bother to update their bloody blogs. After contemplating for about 39.4 seconds, I decide to pass on the award to the following people. We, the Jury, are very biased, but you already knew that.

1) The White Phoenix: Because I love his blog, and I love him for the person he is. His laziness in updating his blog space would put a mule to shame, but once he does update, it's totally worth it. So here's a shiny, pink award for the Phoenix we all love.

2) The Overrated Outcast: NO one can talk pure rot with astonishing insight like this guy does. We met through a common friend, namely, Arjun Singh (the old hag with the reservations. Yes, that's the one) and today, we share a blog relationship like no other. We're both sarcastic bitches, with an opinion on everything under God's benevolent gaze, and this misanthropy is what is the foundation of the ardent admiration we share for each other. :D Oh yes, and how can I forget the compilation of Moo Jokes that he's so labouring on? He truly deserves this award like no other.

3) The Mugger Much: Now this guy truly deserves the award in the true sense of the term. I'm not sure I understand what he says most of the time, but nod intelligently and he'll love you. He'll write beautifully about anything ranging from short stories, to life at the IIT, to breakups or Communism. His brain needs to be transplanted when he isn't looking and inserted into my skull. So dear Croc, here's your pink award. It's all I could do. :P

4) Ess: This guy too, has a take on everything there is to have a take on, but subtlety is his middle name. He comes across as someone who'll make you feel like a jackass, but rather politely. Love his blog for the philosophy there is, but weaved in a rather fun, light way. So here I thrust the award on the unaware Ess. :)

That's about it, I guess. I expect link love and acknowledgment, not to mention some traffic diverted to my site after this whole charade. Don't think I doled about the pink picture because I meant the things I just said. Geez. And others interested in lobbying for it (we live in the country of Vijay Mallya), take me shopping and feed me a brownie, and the award's yours.

'Nuff said for one post.

*collapses with exhaustion*

Illiteracy, thy name is Moo. :(

This slightly mean (but lots nice) woman I know, Chandni, is upto no good again. :( She's put up a list of books that you're supposed to have read by now. She seems to have gobbled the entire fucking list, while I don't score anywhere. I should kill myself. Anyhow, I'm being man enough to admit that I'm not well read, but I want to be. I REALLY DO! So I'm going to post the list of books here myself, the ones in bold being those I've read, while those in italics being ones that in the bookshelf waiting to be read. The ones whose fonts I haven't messed up are the ones I haven't read, nor own. Whew! Here goes. *sob*

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell
Anna Karenina
Crime and Punishment (hey that's not fair! I am about to start reading The Idiot)
Catch-22
One Hundred Years of Solitude
Wuthering Heights (I'm reading it)
The Silmarillion
Life of Pi : a novel
The Name of the Rose
Don Quixote

Moby Dick
Ulysses
Madame Bovary
The Odyssey
Pride and Prejudice (finally I get to use bold on something)
Jane Eyre
The Tale of Two Cities
The Brothers Karamazov (hasn't anyone heard of Dostoyevsky's 'The Idiot'?
Guns, Germs, and Steel
War and Peace

Vanity Fair
The Time Traveler’s Wife
The Iliad

Emma
The Blind Assassin
The Kite Runner
Mrs. Dalloway
Great Expectations
American Gods
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Atlas Shrugged
Reading Lolita in Tehran : a memoir in books (
Memoirs of a Geisha
Middlesex
Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West
Quicksilver
The Canterbury Tales
The Historian : a novel
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
Love in the Time of Cholera

Brave New World
The Fountainhead
Foucault’s Pendulum
Middlemarch
Frankenstein
The Count of Monte Cristo
Dracula
A Clockwork Orange
Anansi Boys
The Once and Future King

The Grapes of Wrath
The Poisonwood Bible
1984
Angels and Demons
Inferno
The Satanic Verses
Sense and Sensibility
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Mansfield Park
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

To the Lighthouse
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
Oliver Twist
Gulliver’s Travels
Les Misérables
The Correction
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
Dune
The Prince

The Sound and the Fury
Angela’s Ashes : a memoir
The God of Small Things
A People’s History of the United States : 1492-present
Cryptonomicon
Neverwhere
A Confederacy of Dunces
A Short History of Nearly Everything
Dubliners
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Beloved
Slaughterhouse Five
The Scarlet Letter
Eats, Shoots and Leaves
The Mists of Avalon
Oryx and Crake
Collapse : how societies choose to fail or succeed
Cloud Atlas
The Confusion
Lolita

Persuasion
Northanger Abbey
The Catcher in the Rye
On the Road
The Hunchback of Notre Dame
Freakonomics : a rogue economist explores the hidden side of everything
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance : an inquiry into values
The Aeneid
Watership Down
Gravity’s Rainbow

The Hobbit
In Cold Blood : a true account of a multiple murder and its consequences
White Teeth
Treasure Island
David Copperfield
The Three Musketeers

Fuck that's just 13 books. *shoots self* Oh but just for general public welfare, I'm going to list some books that ABSOLUTELY must be in the list as well. Go read.

Half of a Yellow Sun - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
The Longest Memory - Fred D'Aguiar
Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe
Twelve Bar Blues - Patrick Neate
The Book Thief - Marcus Zusack
Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell (WHY wasn't this in the list?)
Chocolat - Joanne Harris
The Diary of Anne Frank
Lord of the Flies - William Golding
The Rape of the Lock - Alexander Pope
A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
The Purple Hibiscus - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
An Old Captivity - Nevil Shute
The Colour Purple - Alice Walker
Little Women - Louisa May Alcott
Shakespeare
The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
Love Story - Eric Segal
Boogers are my Beat - Dave Barry
Marley and Me - John Grogan
The Godfather - Mario Puzo
Harry. Fucking. Potter.
To Kill A Mockingbird - Harper Lee (HOW did they forget this one? :O)

And I have to go now. I will add some more books later as and when I think of them. For now, I feel better at not being as illiterate as I initially thought. :D Teehee!

Almost Dead, but not Quite!

I can't believe I'm still alive. In the past three or four days, I've been ill enough to cover an entire epidemic in the continent of Africa. Worry not though, people! Moo is quite ok again, and just amazed at the number of things that happened to her at alarming rapidity. I've been telling whoever was polite enough to listen, about the whole bunch of viruses that attacked me, whilst I was blissfully unaware and minding my own business. The sneaky bastards. So hopefully, people haven't lost interest in me yet, so those who still want to know how ill I was, will be linked here. Here goes.

1) It all started around last week, when my ears went red and started itching like bitches.
2) This was followed by excessive scratching and heating up of my ears.
3) By the time the ears were resolved, an ugly rash evolved on my arms.
4) Meanwhile, my eyes started watering, and my eyelids started being sore to the touch.
5) The beautiful red rash planted itself on my legs and thighs.
6) This was followed by sleepless nights, where scratching could be listed as my main occupation.
7) The homoeopathic medicine I got was good, but it gave me hugely swollen fingers and swollen, tender gums. Yeah. They couldn't even keep my mouth out of it. How was I to TALK? :'(
8) Fever and a cold kept punctuating this entire spate of disorders.
9) The rash erupted on my face and my eyelids. My. Eyelids.
10) Since I wasn't weak physically and the doctor allowed me to, I decided to go to the gym and distract myself. Sitting at home would only make me wallow in my misery, so I went. It happened to be the day of my new strength workout, with 15 exercises in total. Yeah, so since the gym, every conceivable muscle in my body began to hurt, so that even scratching became a luxury.
11) For some inexplicable reason beyond my realm of understanding, the joint at my right shoulder is hurting like a pack of bitches, making me scream out while turning a power steering. :(
12) Now that most of the above disorders are 95% better, my digestive system was feeling left out, I suppose, so there comes a bout of loose motions. I spent most of today crapping my innards out.

The Guru Cool and I were chatting today, and he asked me a relevant question after I listed this entire list to him. Says he, "Dude, are you sure you aren't in a wheelchair like Stephen Hawking?" I also cannot help but remember Jerome K. Jerome's "Three Men in a Boat", where the narrator discovers with a visit to the doctor, that he has EVERY conceivable disease except Housemaid's Knee. I laughed at the time, oh so heartily, but now I know how it feels. Not the best feeling you can have, but who am I to judge? :P

Anyhoo, I like to believe I'm positive, so I'm just going to say that although I hated the last 3-5 days, I was happy they happened. WHY? Because I could blog about it and a-moose you, you ninnies!

So many men, so little aspirin!

What with the passage of Mothers' Day recently, I've decided that too much importance is given to some really sad things, at times. Why do Mothers need a special day? If they're that special to you, you wouldn't treat them like dirt now, would you? And if you do treat them like the queens they are, why do you need a special day to prove it? That's what I don't like about these generic days. Anyhoo, realisation also hit me in the head about how there are very few days attributed to men. Father's day, maybe, but I for one don't even realise when it comes and goes.

Ah well, so this post goes out to the men in my life (not in the amorous way, you perverts!) who've poked out big chunks of my heart and refuse to give it back. :)

1) Daddy Dearest: Undoubtedly, he's been in my life even before I was born, and needless to say, I'm Papa's little darling. Maybe he's the only one in the world, who thinks I still am little. Till the end of time, he's the guy who'll always have the largest chunk of my heart and a copyright to all the tiny pecks on the cheeks. I can still go sit on his lap, plant him with surprise hugs, and cuddle into his arms in the middle of the night, without him complaining of disturbed sleep. And how many dads get up from a well-deserved nap to bail you out of a tiny car mishap, ala Austin Powers? And did I mention he's my gymming partner? No? My driving instructor? No? Ah well, he's all those things too. In turn, I'm the one who dutifully laughs at the PJs, plays secretary, computer technician and instructor at times. We have our tiffs and verbal punches at times, both being impatient, but pah! Who doesn't? So Pa, please don't ever get old, and stop telling me when to brake when I'm driving! :P

2) Zander: I've written a whole post for this guy. And ever since then, he's been acting extra nice to me, picks up calls when required, etc. Guess a little diplomacy never hurt anyone. So I'm just going to attach an extra special hug here and stop yapping about him further, else his head gets bloated and is unable to fit through the doorframe. * hug *

3) G@K: My sweetheart of a brother. The two of us are not related, except by a special connection of the dil, and he'll always be the amazing person that he is. Always concerned, and perpetually worried about my well-being, I'm glad he's not related to me in anyway. The cousins, etc. that I do have are the most annoying creatures on earth. I'm kinda glad that I have a brother who isn't remotely connected to anyone but me. I'm missing this crazy guy with the corny jokes, ever since he moved to Australia two months ago. :( Not that we met often, but I always knew I could pop to his place when I needed to. One of my biggest saharas in Mumbai, is no more in Mumbai. Hmph. But the good thing is, we get to talk more often and catch up with each other constantly, funny as that may sound. God bless GTalk. And I better see you soon, G@k! You owe me a lunch at the Taj. :P

4) Phoenix: This person is my 3 a.m. friend. We've never ever met in person, but already know so much about each other! He'll buzz and message me at all weird hours of the night, because he knows his message will rarely remain unanswered. We keep thinking of new ways to be mean to each other, but he'll grudgingly admit that I reign supreme, always. (Heck! It's my blog. I can say whatever I want about myself. :P) One of the only people I know who's reading sensibilities match mine, we're constantly recommending books to each other. He's really brainy and stuff, but never once will believe it himself. Just don't get him started on himself, and you'll be fine. :D And also don't ever believe when he says he's coming to Mumbai to catch up with you soon, because ultimately, he's a filthy liar. :P But he's a close friend, so if anyone were to kidnap him, I might consider paying his ransom (if it's not above a hundred bucks). :P Love you Phoenixikins! :)

Ah well, there ya go! If I've missed out any men from the list, it simply means that you need to work harder to make me rattle off your name from the top of my head. There's no point in painstakingly remembering you, right? Now go away, and don't attack me with acid. :P

Goosey Zander

I'm slightly worried about Zander. For the uninitiated, Zander is my best friend, soul-sister, fellow bitch and partner in crime. Plus, what totally helped cement the friendship from my side, is that he owns a bike. And that it's (the bike's) always available as and when required. Oooh, and did I mention that he rides it like the bike's a part of his body? No? Maybe I didn't mention it because it would seem weird to have a bike as a body part. So now that I've got the introductions out of the way, I'll get to the problem in hand.

Like I said, I'm worried about Zander. This is the boy, who loves to do nothing. Erm yes, given a choice, he'd make an occupation out of just that. Nothing. Give him chicken biryani, a cozy bed and enough time to sleep, you wouldn't even notice he was there. He can be that inconspicuous. And believe you me, it's no mean feat for a giant like him to achieve - inconspicuousness. So this extremely lazy and content chappie, is gradually turning into a housewife (feminists, I don't think I really care about you, right now). Well, his mum and dad are out of town for a month, and he's home all alone. You'd think he'd gather the boy gang and host parties, go out clubbing, come back really late, oversleep, and you, the usual things boys would do. But sadly, my dear little Zandy Poo is doing none of the above. Instead, he:

1. Wonders what he can cook for his next meal, uncannily like most mothers / women who cook, do.
2. Wakes up at 5 every morning, and soaks clothes for the maid to come and wash.
3. Wakes up on time, without anybody having to prod and poke and yell at him to move an eyelash.
4. Leaves for work on time, after overseeing the general state of the house.
   
5. Does NOT visit his male friends much, but comes home and sleeps.
   
6. Hasn't boozed at all.
   
7. Does the vessels regularly, without watching them pile up.
   
8. Complain of household chores and the way everything needs to be scrubbed clean.

Wow! Is that the Zander I know? And is this what living alone for a week does to a person? Fuck! If I ever go abroad or even out of the city for a romantic weekend with my boyfriend, I'm packing my parents in a lunch box and taking them with me. Poor poor Zander.

Anyhoo, the mom took pity on my suddenly bachelor friend, and invited him home for lunch. Needless to say, he was really happy with the invite (although he won't admit his glee) and happily toddled along to my house. :) I bet the first thing that went through his mind was, Wow! that's some lunch money saved out of my monthly budget. Perhaps I can buy an extra kg of rice and hoard it instead! Much merriment happened, and after lunch we settled down for a movie, saw half of that, went outside for a quick chocolate brownie, came back, and everyone in the house settled down for a nice chat session. And Zander even exchanged a recipe with my mother! :O Chilly fry something. Fuck! It's funny how you think you know your best friend in and out, and he suddenly exchanges recipes.

After the recipe bit, my parents were convinced that little Zander was ready to tie the knot, and make some lazy woman lucky. And I couldn't agree any more. I mean, what's not to agree? He's smart, adorable, tall, generous, rich, side-splittingly funny, a biker, and he exchanges fucking recipes. I'd marry him right away, except Aamir Khan and I have this thing going on for really long now. He completely understands, though. Best friends, no? :)

Ok enough with the random nonsense. I attribute this nonsense post to lack of sleep (courtesy: Slonumb. The woman's been keeping me awake with phone calls right up to five in the morning these last two days). And, I dedicate this post to Zander, the rock of my life, the pain in my arse, and the throbbing in my head. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't know I even had one. A head, not an arse. Cliched as this may sound, he's one person who I know will remain constant in my life, and keep me sane. I love you loads Zander, but slightly less than you love me. :D Don't ever leave me stranded in life, and kindly buy a new bike now. NO! NOT a Royal Enfield. :P Apart from that, you're quite alright as you are.

I repeat. I love you. A universe-full.

P.S. Don't tell him, but I might marry him if he whips me up a delicious sizzling brownie with vanilla icecream. Shhh...

Pointless Existence

(Disclaimer: Personal post, subject to be irrelevant. Feel free to skip.)

I need to study German. I need to look for a job. I need to be there for my parents. I want to be the rock in their life. I want them to be happy. I want to be happy. I want to stop pretending all's good. Because all's not good. I want people deserving to be unhappy, who cause nothing but grief, to really be unhappy. And the good ones need to be able to smile. I've stopped believing in the greater good. There's no such thing. There's no law of the universe either. Neither does Doom's Day exist. People have stopped getting what they deserve. It's all bullshit.

Dear God, if you exist or pretend to,

Please make them smile. And please keep him happy. They're all I have. If the people who are the reason of my existence aren't content with themselves, there's no point to me, is there?