It's 4.30 am, I'm in office closing a really big issue, with miraculous bits of time in between where I don't know what to do with myself. I'm trying to ignore the steady throbbing in my temples, but it won't go away.
I'm amusing myself by doing this tag. I will tag precisely four people. If you don't take up the tag, I will haunt you forever. (I'm going to die of exhaustion in precisely twenty minutes).
Apparently, this tag is called the ABC Tag. Picked it up from Sakshi Pie's blog. The questions begin from A-Z. Hence the name (how original). Here I go.
1) A – Available/Single?
Available for a coffee if you're in town.
2) B – Best friend?
Mika. Lammy. Smallie. Gakash. Ro. Chicken Little. Zander.
3) C – Cake or Pie?
Cake, I think. Gulab Jamun, if you're taking orders.
4) D – Drink of choice?
Cranberry breezer. :P Not for the alcohol, purely for the taste. Arey, somebody believe me!
5) E – Essential item you use every day?
Chuddies. Pen. Handbag. Wallet.
6) F – Favorite colour?
Deep blue. White. Black.
7) G – Gummy Bears Or Worms?
What sort of a freakshow question is this?
8) H – Hometown?
Moo-mbai!
9) I – Indulgence?
Original Sin donuts from Mad Over Donuts. They turn you on.
10) J – January or February?
Rumpelstiltskin
11) K – Kids & their names?
Oh. This is easy. Hiryanyakashapoo and Ghatotkhach. Poo and Gatty, in short.
12) L – Life is incomplete without?
Being cuddled to death by the ones who I love being cuddled by.
13) M – Marriage date?
On the day I take a casual leave
14) N – Name? Your real name!!
Moo. That's all YOU need to know.
15) O – Oranges or Apples?
Oranges, I guess. How does it matter, again?
16) P – Phobias/Fears?
Crossing the road. Used to be escalators once upon a time. In fact I have a whole post about everything that frightens me.
17) Q – Quote for today?
Ek din mar jayega, kutte ki maut,
Ghar wale kahenge, mar gaya madarc**t!
18) R – Reason to smile?
Hot soup after a tiring day. :)
19) S – Season?
Mumbai winter
20) T – Tag 3 People?
The White Phoenix, Doubledrats, Sreejit
21) U – Unknown fact about me?
I love giving nicknames
22) V – Vegetable you don’t like?
Tinda
23) W – Worst habit?
Worst time manager
24) X – X-rays?
Loads of times.
25) Y – Your favorite food?
Cauliflower sabzi made by ma, beef cooked by Lammy
26) Z – Zodiac sign?
The hottest sign of the Zodiac - Aries. :D
Monday, August 31, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Away from peeping eyes...
They walked into her building, hand in hand.
"Look at those two," said a neighbour to another, "Always walking in and out at any time they like. No decency or shame..."
"God knows what they do up there for so many hours. Girls these days..." said the other neighbour.
Ignoring the women's jibes and taunts, they trudged on at their own pace and entered the lift.
They entered her apartment. The very next minute, she collapsed on the sofa, tired.
"Wait, I'll make you some coffee, princess. You rest for a bit," he said.
"Thanks darling. I love you," she smiled through her headache.
10 minutes later, she sat up drinking her piping hot cuppa Joe. He took her cup to the sink and washed it, while she sat wondering what she'd done to deserve him.
"Sweetheart," he said, holding her closely in his arms, "I really think I shouldn't be coming here too often. The nasty women from your building say and think really sick things about us."
"Like what?" she asked.
"You know like what," he said.
"Tell me... Like what?" she persisted.
"You know, like we're humping each other the second we walk in through that door. It's sickening, how their minds work. Almost makes you want to shower," he vented.
"Who cares what they think?" she asked.
"I do. There's no reason they should worry so much about our sex lives or whether or not we have one. Doesn't their peskiness affect you one bit?"
"Not really."
"What? How come?"
"Because every moment I spend in peace with you here, in complete privacy, away from peeping eyes is worth every taunt, every jibe."
"I know, baby. But..."
"I don't care if they think we're making love out of sin. For me, that cup of coffee you make me is as sacred as making love to you. Every caress is as special. Do you think I care about nosey women from my building, when you're holding me tight and saying lovely things in my ear?"
"You know what?" he asked.
"What?" she said.
"I love you more than my life."
"Look at those two," said a neighbour to another, "Always walking in and out at any time they like. No decency or shame..."
"God knows what they do up there for so many hours. Girls these days..." said the other neighbour.
Ignoring the women's jibes and taunts, they trudged on at their own pace and entered the lift.
They entered her apartment. The very next minute, she collapsed on the sofa, tired.
"Wait, I'll make you some coffee, princess. You rest for a bit," he said.
"Thanks darling. I love you," she smiled through her headache.
10 minutes later, she sat up drinking her piping hot cuppa Joe. He took her cup to the sink and washed it, while she sat wondering what she'd done to deserve him.
"Sweetheart," he said, holding her closely in his arms, "I really think I shouldn't be coming here too often. The nasty women from your building say and think really sick things about us."
"Like what?" she asked.
"You know like what," he said.
"Tell me... Like what?" she persisted.
"You know, like we're humping each other the second we walk in through that door. It's sickening, how their minds work. Almost makes you want to shower," he vented.
"Who cares what they think?" she asked.
"I do. There's no reason they should worry so much about our sex lives or whether or not we have one. Doesn't their peskiness affect you one bit?"
"Not really."
"What? How come?"
"Because every moment I spend in peace with you here, in complete privacy, away from peeping eyes is worth every taunt, every jibe."
"I know, baby. But..."
"I don't care if they think we're making love out of sin. For me, that cup of coffee you make me is as sacred as making love to you. Every caress is as special. Do you think I care about nosey women from my building, when you're holding me tight and saying lovely things in my ear?"
"You know what?" he asked.
"What?" she said.
"I love you more than my life."
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Train timepass
Recently caught up with Chicken Little, when she hopped into a train at Mahalaxmi and I, at Lower Parel. She and I have been the best of friends since 7th grade ("Don't count the number of years we've been friends", she always whines. "We always end up fighting when you do!" Kindly ignore and pliss to dismiss as chicken banter. :P)
Anyway, as is usual with her, she was being her random self when she pointed out to this:
"Mooey, I don't know about you, but the picture of those kids on the left seems really, really wrong. What kind of a workshop do you think it is?" she asked.
I laughed heartily at that and then wondered: Seriously, what are those kids doing? And what's with that other kid stretching his legs till his pants are about to split at the seams?
Something shady's happening. Pliss to investigate, someone. I'm going and having my dinner.
Anyway, as is usual with her, she was being her random self when she pointed out to this:
"Mooey, I don't know about you, but the picture of those kids on the left seems really, really wrong. What kind of a workshop do you think it is?" she asked.
I laughed heartily at that and then wondered: Seriously, what are those kids doing? And what's with that other kid stretching his legs till his pants are about to split at the seams?
Something shady's happening. Pliss to investigate, someone. I'm going and having my dinner.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
In conversation with myself
How wrong is it, to want to be a different person sometimes? To put away all those ideas of being yourself and people loving you just as you are? To be able to take a vacation from doing all the things people expect you to do, the things that you expect yourself to do, even?
Life is a funny thing. You spend so much time trying to shape it to the way you want it to be, but then when you do get there, you realise it isn't as glamorous as you wanted it to be.
I've wanted to live my life the way I do, since 7th grade. I'd dreamed of going to work, having a decent paycheck being dropped into my hands every month, having a boss everyone would kill to have, lovely parents who don't trouble me when I come home from work at unearthly hours, friends who care when I'm upset. Heck, most people aren't even fortunate enough to get to do what they like. I have everything; it would seem like the most perfect life anyone would want to live.
Then why is there a gnawing feel of something being incomplete? I don't expect my life to reach fulfillment at 22, but there's this feeling somewhere deep within, that this is not what I wanted to do, after all.
There are so many unresolved issues in my head that I can't talk about. Not to the ones closest to me anyway.
Maybe I'll just marry rich and buy Jimmy Choo(tiya) all day.
Life is a funny thing. You spend so much time trying to shape it to the way you want it to be, but then when you do get there, you realise it isn't as glamorous as you wanted it to be.
I've wanted to live my life the way I do, since 7th grade. I'd dreamed of going to work, having a decent paycheck being dropped into my hands every month, having a boss everyone would kill to have, lovely parents who don't trouble me when I come home from work at unearthly hours, friends who care when I'm upset. Heck, most people aren't even fortunate enough to get to do what they like. I have everything; it would seem like the most perfect life anyone would want to live.
Then why is there a gnawing feel of something being incomplete? I don't expect my life to reach fulfillment at 22, but there's this feeling somewhere deep within, that this is not what I wanted to do, after all.
There are so many unresolved issues in my head that I can't talk about. Not to the ones closest to me anyway.
Maybe I'll just marry rich and buy Jimmy Choo(tiya) all day.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Computer games / TV > Books? Sad...
Overheard at Crossword bookstore by yours truly:
"Beta, why do you want to waste money buying books, when I'm buying you a nice computer game?"
Jai ho!
It really is Kalyug, isn't it?
If this generation of parents is actually going to discourage a child who wants to buy books (a rare species in the first place), what hope is left for Mother Earth?
Everywhere we go, we'll find six-year-old children donning soda-bottle glasses, discussing the way they pulled some enemy's intestines out (complete with squelchy sounds, mind you) with an AK47 that's purple and turquoise in colour in some morbidly named game. They'll also know how many women Vinod Kambli slept with before and after marrying the bimbette of his wife (courtesy: Sach ka Saamna). However, not one will have read or even heard of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' or 'Alice in Wonderland'.
It's so completely sad to see hoardes of people hovering around the CD-ROM / DVD / VCD collections at bookstores, but not many takers for books. Plus, out of the six and a half people that are amidst books, four and three quarters will be hovering around Chetan Bhagat and fervently flipping through the pages of his...ahem...profound literature.
Where are the readers? Not to say that I know every book there is and I read as much as I'd like to, but I try. I really do. I try spending my spare time either reading or writing, although it's not always possible. But I think my mother will have no qualms in slicing my neck with a blunt knife if I watch too much television (in fact, no one in my house watches television!) or keep playing games on the computer and don't read. My mother bees weird like that.
What is the world coming to? Or am I too old for it? I'm chewing on that and perhaps, so should you.
And lastly, before I go, I leave you with one of my favourite Roald Dahl poems.
Television
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.
So absolutely true, innit? Whaddaya think? Moo back at me in the comments section and let me know. :)
"Beta, why do you want to waste money buying books, when I'm buying you a nice computer game?"
Jai ho!
It really is Kalyug, isn't it?
If this generation of parents is actually going to discourage a child who wants to buy books (a rare species in the first place), what hope is left for Mother Earth?
Everywhere we go, we'll find six-year-old children donning soda-bottle glasses, discussing the way they pulled some enemy's intestines out (complete with squelchy sounds, mind you) with an AK47 that's purple and turquoise in colour in some morbidly named game. They'll also know how many women Vinod Kambli slept with before and after marrying the bimbette of his wife (courtesy: Sach ka Saamna). However, not one will have read or even heard of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' or 'Alice in Wonderland'.
It's so completely sad to see hoardes of people hovering around the CD-ROM / DVD / VCD collections at bookstores, but not many takers for books. Plus, out of the six and a half people that are amidst books, four and three quarters will be hovering around Chetan Bhagat and fervently flipping through the pages of his...ahem...profound literature.
Where are the readers? Not to say that I know every book there is and I read as much as I'd like to, but I try. I really do. I try spending my spare time either reading or writing, although it's not always possible. But I think my mother will have no qualms in slicing my neck with a blunt knife if I watch too much television (in fact, no one in my house watches television!) or keep playing games on the computer and don't read. My mother bees weird like that.
What is the world coming to? Or am I too old for it? I'm chewing on that and perhaps, so should you.
And lastly, before I go, I leave you with one of my favourite Roald Dahl poems.
Television
The most important thing we've learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set --
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink --
But did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSE IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK -- HE ONLY SEES!
'All right!' you'll cry. 'All right!' you'll say,
'But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children? Please explain!'
We'll answer this by asking you,
'What used the darling ones to do?
'How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?'
Have you forgotten? Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY ... USED ... TO ... READ! They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more. Great Scott! Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be?
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and-
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How the Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rate and Mr. Mole-
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks-
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something to read.
And once they start -- oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts. They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.
So absolutely true, innit? Whaddaya think? Moo back at me in the comments section and let me know. :)
Saturday, August 01, 2009
You've got to have a bunch of potatoes for eyes, if you haven't noticed the new interiors my blog is sporting. Almost 90% of the people I know have genuinely liked it (they'd better), while the others have nodded politely and played along.
But hey, what's not to like? There's an awfully cuddly cow and there's lot of greenery. Now you have to admit. Don't you feel like reaching out snuggling the cow? Come on, ADMIT!
And how can I not thank dear Gakash for this new look? He made the template in 30 minutes flat! He accepts orders too. I take 80% commission on every new template he creates. And no, you cannot approach him on the sly. Rascals.
Well, this was a quick post to tell you I'm around and not dead (yet). Will update real soon! :)
Toodle-oo!
But hey, what's not to like? There's an awfully cuddly cow and there's lot of greenery. Now you have to admit. Don't you feel like reaching out snuggling the cow? Come on, ADMIT!
And how can I not thank dear Gakash for this new look? He made the template in 30 minutes flat! He accepts orders too. I take 80% commission on every new template he creates. And no, you cannot approach him on the sly. Rascals.
Well, this was a quick post to tell you I'm around and not dead (yet). Will update real soon! :)
Toodle-oo!
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