Transmorigification

adios mate!

2006-11-06T01:38:00.000-08:00

I have always been a sucker for cartoons.

For me, cartoons make more sense than TV or movies. As most of them cater to kids, they have to. Children take no bull from anyone.

But cartoons keep changing.

For a long time, calvin & hobbes was my favourite cartoon. But, now a days, I like South Park better. Way better.

Hence, shifting now to a new blog.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Learning experience Redux

2006-10-23T23:16:00.000-07:00

Searching for a house to stay in Salt Lake can be a life altering experience.

Now, don't get all politically correct on me. I mean no disrespect to Bongs, especially when some of the most intelligent and most beautiful creatures I have met are from this place ( men and women, respectively.) I love the local food, love the haunting songs, love the one mall which they have here which is any day better than any of the Gurgawaa! ones, love the eateries and second hand bookshops...

Yeah I know. You are waiting for the 'but' right? Here goes...

The IT boom in Salt Lake - or rather, the BPO boom - resulted in many PYTs (professional young things) landing in here. They have a certain budget, and do not believe in keeping aside much for accommodation.

Me? I am an old lady, needing my peace, solitude and freedom. Opting for an apartment is fine, thanks to a generous packet by the company. Enter my knights, the brokers.

I guess we call the real estate agents brokers as eventually they manage to break your heart. The spelling? Don't probe too deep yaar. They might have misspelled it, for all we know.

The gems offered were:

A furnace simulation with no fans, ventilation, windows opening into other people's curious eyes...

A bed in a three bed room within a three bedroom flat with two bathrooms - and all inhabited by females who would want to leave by 08:30 AM everyday....

A flat where everything leaks - wash basins, pipes, toilets, drains, walls...

Harry Potter's cupboard room under the stairs. I think this one is a bit smaller though...

One on the fourth floor - no lift, and one door opens from the landlord's side so that they can keep a 'watch'. Duh?

Finally, took up the cupboard as it offered the promise of some privacy. Ha. Ha. One week later, I can empathize with my grandmom's pet fish, who invariably got poked around the aquarium when we kids were in her home. May be this is the fish's curse. If so, I should warn the youngest of us to stop the poking habit....

Getting fleeced on everything from rent to value added services like washing the clothes, in addition to the invasion of the cupboard by other tenant, the servants, the landlady, her kid... and their need to know the intricacies of my laptop, my mobile and my camera...

The good things?

The two Alsatian dogs of the owner of the house, who live with her on the first floor. By the time I leave, I plan to be friends with those adorable balls of fur and muscle who are as tall as me.

The almost magical scents of the night when I walk down the lane every night. A heady mix of various night flowers which I am yet to find in a parfum bottle.

Like a drop of paint added to water, it mix and melt into my prosaic life, making it colorful.

Learning experience

2006-10-08T22:18:00.000-07:00

For the past few weeks, I have been talking with my juniors, their juniors, batchmates, old engineering friends, past and present colleagues and what not. Now, sitting back on a Sunday evening, I realize that we talk a different tongue. For the benefit of the greater humanity; I decode one of the omnipresent words in Yembeeyeah!speak:

Learning experience : (1) Failing to do or achieve something (2) flunk out of a course (3) circumstances which suck big time.

Eg: (1) Boss :Did you complete the project?

Employee : Well.. It was more of a learning experience...

(Experienced bosses do not venture beyond this point. They know that it is a lost cause to be overly curious about the project. They make a mental note to bring down the intended salary hike of the employee by a few notches and move on.)

Eg: (2) Friend1: Dude, how come you are 29 with no work experience and just passed out of MBA?

Friend2: Dude, I had some learning experiences man!

Friend1: Oh, yeah? Which all classes?

( Note the refined sidestepping of the words flunked, failed, repeated etc. and how Friend1 cuts straight to the chase. )

Eg: (3) Department Head: How do you find the new city? How is the guesthouse where you are put up?

Eagerbeaver employee : I love it! It is a great learning experience!

( In a slightly hysterical, high pitched voice with a 28 teeth baring smile; which is so akin of an orangutan baring its teeth in fear. By the way, it is one more evidence to the Darwian theory.

The two sentences means : " I hate it here. There are no friends here and I do not understand this language. This food is different from what we eat it is too spicy/not at all spicy (crossout whichever is not applicable) and people here do/do not (crossout whichever is not applicable) talk Hindi. It is too hot/cold (crossout whichever is not applicable) here. The people use too much oil in their food/hair (crossout whichever is not applicable) that it stinks always. I want to be in the other department. But I am not going to make any career limiting statements and exhibit negativity. Atleast, not to you."

Now; knowing that a lot of you know about me shifting to Calcutta; here are my learning experiences from Bongland:

Finding an apartment to stay : somebody pass me the contact details of people who can fix up an apartment for me please! (1)

Language : It reminds me of the times when I hear Hindi, Tamil or Malayalam being spoken; but cannot make out the words. (2 : And I haven't even started the course! )

Food : The guys in the guesthouse believe in excesses; especially of salt, garlic and oil in all kinds of food. (3)

The rumored readers of this blog; bhailog; thoda madat keejiye!

Self help? Bah!

2006-09-25T07:27:00.000-07:00

You see, the problem with all the self help books is that, they snip out the really important stuff. Same with the self help columns. I abhor self help books but have read most of them - life plays these dirty tricks on you every now and then - and read atleast two of online advice givers - the respectable variety - regularly.

so as I was saying, they really don't teach you how to do stuff. Let me put it another way. Suppose you have this person whom you know back from someplace. Life's little games have brought you into closer contract with this person, and she aint half as bad as you thought. Just that she is on her way to commit professional harakkiri - or second thoughts it should be just suicide as harakkiri is an honorable custom amongst the Japanese - by getting too close to this other dude at work and everybody in their department knows and even though their work policy says nothing about this, it is a no-no in there you know what I mean? So my question is, how do I tell her that 'dudette, be discreet?' huh? Nobody ever tell ki how you have to actually do stuff. They just say ' yeah, just do it' like nike sponsors their columns.

just do it, eh? Do you know how bloody difficult it is? I would do it in a perfect world where she or he will listen to me when I tell them that they have been a silly ass and at the end of it they just hug me thanks and pledge me eternal friendship and we walk into the sunset as friends forever.

hahahahahahahaha. Just thinking about it make me laugh out loud, the same way I did when we gals used to read out the really mushy stuff from MnB books back in engineering days. It is probably the idealistic state, but you know it aint going to happen and it aint going to happen to you and you hope it aint gonna happen to your friends and if bychance it did, then they would shutup about it. Listen to me snicker and guffaw. It is real life mediocrity laughing at idealistic state.

so finally I try telling this to her in a perfectly casual way by wrapping it around a thousand stories and to make this one drop fall on the ground, I create a summer rain and hide the drop insie it. I mean, isn't she intelligent enough to understand it?

I mean, it is not just her. There is this other miss who want me to tell her when she is bumbling up, but I have given up as it is just thunder after lightening. It makes a huge sound, but it is not what burns down trees and zap down people.

I guess I should start writing a column myself. It should get mail from people who want me to tell it to the face of others that they are fucking up and how? With a signing off moniker like say 'Ms Hardknox' or 'Ms Take' . I personally prefer 'Ms. Bitch' short sweet and universally understood. The problem and what exactly I think of it will be my column and I will send a personal mail to the person who is eating his foot.

any editors with money out there?

Tales from Yembeeyeah! land

2006-09-13T21:50:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in Yembeeyeah! land, there was a good looking chap. Tall, fair, slightly rolly-polly, cleanshaven and hygienic. A mother's dream choice for her daughter. Let us call him Alag; for he was the rare species whom moms like to see their daughters dating and whom many daughters themselves wanted to date.

Alag went forth, one dreary summer day, to sell toothpaste to the interior India. This was due to the (mis?)conception that many people had - if you sweat your summers out instead of relaxing on a beach side, you have better chances to 'make it'.

Although nobody understood what you are supposed to 'make it' people saw the summer as a character building time and forced kids to go here, there and everywhere. Alag was sent to the interiors of buffalo land, where from the chief minister to the chief of dacoits had buffalos by the dozen.

As it was the big momma of all interiors, he decided to acquaint himself with the Sarpanch of the village. Yes my friends, the Indian Coffee House istyle frilled headgear which looks like a fat dove who just spread its tail feathers was on his head. The women at his home were neither seen (tauba! tauba!!) nor heard ( how dare they? ).

Sarpanch uvacha: "Beta, tell me something about yourself."

Err.. actually not, but something to that effect.

Alag went on and on. The Sarpanch, like a good recruiter, had zeroed in on what he actually wanted to know. Still, he asked to confirm:

"So, are you single or committed?"

No, it didnot sound like a dating site question. Still...

Alag was free as free can be, so he said

"Single, singleReady to mingle(and this to himself)I wonder if he has a babe called Twinkle?"

The Sarpanch did not have a babe called Twinkle. However, he had a daughter called Chameli. He turned back to the oblivion of his home, and shouted:

"Yo the hot momma of my daughter Chameli, dont send the chai by our old servant Motiram. Send it by our Chameli lass. Let Alag see her and fall in love.."

So on and so forth.

Alag suddenly remembered a imaginary emergency and scooted. Last heard, he ditched his designer shoes and clothes for Hawaii chappals and roadside tshirts. And yup, he also stopped bathing and looked pathetic than Motiram through the entire character building exercise of Summer.

Looking back... and looking ahead.

2006-09-01T06:43:00.000-07:00

I decided on which company to join pretty early. Two of my best friends from the senior batch has already joined that firm, and the chance to be with them for some more years was too tempting. They used to call me almost every week, come down to campus at regular intervals and mail once in a while. Apart from crushes, girl friends, campus, professors, life, love and universe, we also discussed the work.

It was good to hear that they were happy about their work. So what if it is a bit overworked... you really have to slog it out in the initial years anyway. It was full of my seniors and alumni from our college. Can life get any better?

I also decided to try for another group - they have their own system akin to the civil service. Having betrayed my family's IAS/IFS ambitions for an MBA, it was the least I could do. Besides, I also had friends who already got job offers from the company and who were planning to take it up.

A big NO was there for the FMCG sector. Not because I have anything against them, but because I was convinced - or brainwashed, to use the right term - by one of the faculty that you need atleast an A in the various Law papers to atleast think of qualifying for an FMCG. I took the easy way out - did not touch the book, but mentally voted the FMCGs off my list.

Then the fizzy guys. Granted, I got into them both swimmingly for my summers. Granted, I know people who work in both - again, loving seniors - and think they are cool. But my communist upbringing was opening a can of self questioning : How comfortable I would be, if I was asked to go to my state where people were fighting for these guys to shut down on their factory? Do I want to choose between my upbringing, four years of graduation and friends and a man who unceremoniously - arrogantly, again, to use the right word - ignored the question about the pesticides when he visited our campus?

No.

Do I want to work for the IT companies? Well, atleast they have free internet.

The first company did choose me for the final interview. However, small things - how the ppt presentation was made, how the man talked proudly about not having time for his family.. it all came out in the interview. I walked out knowing that I did not make it, and I was happy that I did not.

Then, friends from the clone companies came calling. Forget them, join us. Said another friend. Again, doubt, questioning. How different will the two be? I chose not to apply to that bunch of earnest and young swashbucklers at all.

The company with the IAS hierarchy had a long form to fill up. I thought of doodling towards the end, but finally gave some prefunctory answers and sent it across.

Meanwhile, across a dinner table and a coffee table, I had got a job. This made me pretty much happy. I was not in love, but I was in like.

Recruitment time in full swing. Applied to three companies who came on the first day. Walked out of one after telling the interviewer that I do not want that job profile. Screwed up the other one by being myself. The last one. No seniors here, no batchmates so far. Nobody knows anything about them. I have not attended their ppt. My friends who are going for the interview have not pegged it high. "What arbitness.. " I muttered to myself.

I would not call it love at first sight. Both the people who interrviewed me are happily married, and one of them is a woman. I liked the lady, the way she talked, and the fact that her hair was streaked. I made a mental note to streak likewise as soon as the process gets over. It was more like talking to an elder cousin, discussing life and work. And I discovered to my mortification that even though they deal with technology, they are very much an FMCG.

"Hey, this aint half bad." I told myself. I knew that if the lady was as straight talking as she sounded, I stood a chance of getting a second round call.

I enter the room to fnd a middle aged gentleman wearing a chequred half sleeve shirt looking curiously at me. "Is this the interview room?" I asked.

Boy, Where are his formals? May be the poor chap lost his luggage. However, he was in a good mood despite that, and I happily chatted away with him. Half way through, my cell phone rang to the tune of some cheesy movie jatka number. I fumbled and cursed under my breath trying to locate the phone in any one of my suit pockets. He looked on with a bemused smile.

"Attend the call." Attend the call??? Are you kidding me?????? You may be dressed informally because you lost your luggage. But asking me to take my call equals telling me politely that I am not getting the job. Anyway, I thought of the verbal lashing the poor placement committee guys were going to get because of me ( they had got thrashed because food was not hot enough in some earlier occasion) and sat through and talked. And talked.

By the time I came out, I was in love. I went up to the placement guy handling this company and told him; "If they want me, I am in. I am in love with them." He smiled ( a cute smile, I should add here) and about three hours later, told me and other three friends, that we are accepted. I smiled. I grinned. And I grinned some more when I saw one of my friends saying yes to the offer. "I like them. They are very chill people." was his response.

Am I happy now?

Yes.

Do I love my work?

Yes.

Do I love my colleagues?

Yes.

Will I recommend my company to you and ask you to join us?

No.

What I can do is to tell you about my company. Whether you fit in here or not, that is a decision you have to make ( and the company too).

So any of my juniors reading this, keep this in mind. Joining a company and the 'lightening bolt' [ ref MarioPuzo's Godfather] is not very different. I hope you guys find your lightening bolts.

These are just some of my favourite friends

2006-08-24T06:33:00.000-07:00

The One who, in our first face to face meeting, wanted to blast me for 'outing' his blog link to my PG community. The only guy with whom I can discuss guys.

The One whom people either mistook as my elder brother or else as my twin. He still is, for all practical purposes.

The One who was too Tam and too weird. He still is, but I love him all the more for that.

The One who, calls me up only when he wants to, and talks as much as he wants to. Whatever we become, I would know that he would be a part of my life in some way or other.

The One with whom I bonded over a factory visit and Tamil songs. My kindred soul in mischief.

The One whose mind I can read the best and the most. Most of the times, I try not to. Babe, you should speak out more often what you read in me.

The One who helped me out in my committees, and always stood by me. We neednot keep in touch, but we will be there for each other.

The One whom I looked upto in awe as a phenomenon, and whom I now bug for news about sprited liquids. When did we shift from dude to bro?

The One whom I became friends with the ulterior motive [ one of his friends was the focal point ;) ], and who somehow became one of my closest friends, a sounding board after a 1Km walk from the town back to college. My friend, colleague and family.

The One who is two continents away, but is always there to respond to a mail or a scrap. My one and only sister, for whom I will do almost anything.

The One who was the earlier one's roomie... and with whom I can start a conversation even if we meet after 4 years. I love her!

The One who always looked out for me when I was a fool in love. Thank you.

The one who became my friend thanks to this blog. And who somehow became a source and outlet for hugs.

The one with whom I bonded over some incompetent nincompoops. And who now help me not to become one.

The one whom I have never seen. And know that someday, somewhere, you will take me out for lunch and make me pay for it.

The one whom I always thought was not my type. But now one chap whose mails I do look forward to.

The one whom I thought was a sissy boy. Well, you still are! :))

Addendum to the previous

2006-08-23T22:39:00.000-07:00

Ok, I hope that if someone showed you the earlier post, they show you this one too.

I have been doing some thinking. And what do you expect, you are actually a good friend of mine - atleast I feel that way.

So I aint going anywhere. I'm right here at the sidelines, cheering you on, and when you feel too bummed, will provide you with some pep talk or offer a hand to pull you up [ but if that happen, be prepared to get a life time on 'I told you so' s ].

Did the mistake of walking away from a similar situation in the past, I don't want to commit the same mistake twice and lose a friend.

Herez to us! Yup, and to you two too.

Don't expect me to be BFF with her anytime soon though.

Requiem of a friendship

2006-08-22T08:27:00.000-07:00

I really, really hope that someone shows you this post. Someone who kinda get the picture and care for me enough.

Friend, I am bailing out.

Had I been naive, I would have stayed put.

Had we actually talked about love, life and universe, I would have stayed put.

Oh what the hell... Had I loved your girlfriend, I would have stayed put.

But life is not always perfect.

I wanted to run when you said you would like us to be friends. I wanted to run when you were being nice and sweet to me, even when I was downright insulting. But you stayed put.

We could have been good friends, even best buddies. The past few days, I have really enjoyed your company. I have looked forward to our conversations which were looking like a classic example of Calvin meet Dogbert.

The few friends whom I have, the few friends whom I care for; I love them, and also those who love them. I am good friends with their better halves, siblings, friends and in some cases; even the parents. I would have loved to have such a relationship with you too.

However, I forgot something.

Friendship get shortchanged in comparison to almost every relationship.

Between blood relations and friendships, friendship loses.

Between sex and friendship, friendship has to walk away.

Between any relationship and friendship, friendship get hit.

Of all human connections, friendship is at the bottom rung of the food chain.

Given that you are my friend, I would not want to watch you making what I think is one of the biggest mistakes of your life. I really really wish that I would be proved wrong. However, in cases like this, the cynic in me has been having a perfect score so far.

But it depends on what you want. Whatever it be, because you are my friend and I want to see you being happy, I would want you to get it. And I really would not want to stand around and watch you make a fool of yourself, as it is going to be a painful process for me.

So thank you for your company, your wit, your patience. Adios, and take a bow. You deserve the applause.

Tag

2006-08-11T15:44:00.000-07:00

I am thinking
About my friends with whom I have not kept in touch. I miss them.

I said
"Why me?" when unexpected events happen in my life. I still do.

I want
To belong... Desperately.

I wish
I could care less about them and more about me and get on with my life

I miss
Macchan, Jha, Maya, Dott, Wolfy, Kush, Anoop... and the nice conversations we had [ who said you cannot talk to animals?]

I hear
Just the hum of my laptop now. It is dead silent here.

I wonder
When I will be able to get some sleep.

I regret
Well... nothing really.

I am
Brahmasmi.

I dance
If I am totally ignored in the crowd... or if I have good company to dance.

I sing
Karnatic if I want to energize myself, melodies if I am alone, and funky tunes when I am ready to roll!

I cry
When I am frustrated or more correctly, angry. Sadness is a slow poison which corrodes my mind. It never crosses the threshold of the eyes.

I am not
an extrovert

I write
When I have to.

I confuse
Hindi grammar

I need
To put it down on paper and faast!

I should
Go for more walks and call up my friends

I finish
My work on time. Else I get psyched about it.

Passing the tags to:
Jina
Raven
KD
And Manoj too, if you still read my blog.

And hey, Raven, you are the only non mallu of the lot :)

Actually...

2006-08-07T10:50:00.000-07:00

Mashmallows for breakfast.

Sunny sky with a nice friendly mongrel to pet.

Captain Sparrow with popcorn.

Long winded sms conversations.

10th floor flats, wind and clouds.

Rain from the office windows.

A good book to read.

Mails from friends.

Bubble bath with books.

Songs that you overhear.

Tequila so much that you see double.

Fruit chat with neembu paani.

Mashed potatoes and pork.

An extra pillow to hug.

Contributing to your parent's home for the first time.

My first blog which rediff has not deleted yet.

Yes, life is not as bad as I crib about.

Demands

2006-08-07T10:48:00.000-07:00

Make me strong, and weak.
Give me the courage to run the race, and say no to it.
Give me friends, and keep me detached.
Teach me to laugh, cry, and to feel.
Teach me to let go, and forgive.
Teach me to remember, and thank.
Teach me to avenge.
Help me, to say no, and yes.
Help me, to bend and to be rigid.
Help me to trust, but don’t make me naïve.
Help me learn about new things

And let me be.

Whiskey Maggie

2006-08-01T11:30:00.000-07:00

Yup, you read it right.

XLers tend to think that every other person - especially from the IIM-FMS-MDI circuits are as debauched as they are. So when an otherwise normal looking man refuses non veg food, doesn't dance or drink, we take it upon ourselves to reform them.

Two of us decided to reform or corrupt - depending on your POV - this nice young chap - referred to as Ã¤Kid' from now on - from IIMA. The initial days were difficult - especially if the person in question calls Pirates ofCaribbean-II 'grotesque'. But we toiled and toiled. And toiled some more.

There is just one day left before his banishment to some place where he would not get a house for rent as he is unmarried. We meet up in the company party, and after a good dose of Euphoria, we all are dancing. Even the kid. I stop for a while to stare at this rare phenomenon, only to find him snatch a full glass of whiskey from a colleague of mine and gulpgulpp it down.

"Dude, its not water... its whiskey... " I gently break the news to him.

" I know da."

Shock and awe. I search frantically for my partner in this crime - I have a long history of different antics and different partners for each of them - and tell him about this.

"The Kid has grown up!" We rejoice.

The next day, our Kid is packing up his stuff. There is gonna be no care taker in the guest house it being a Sunday and all. Kid comes over to me, pats my head - how the hell did he find out that I generally relent when someone pats my head? - and asks me :

"Da, make me someMaggiee na..."

Needless to say, I relent.

However, as I am in the kitchen, the other XLer comes over. With a bottle of whiskey n hand. TheMaggiei is almost ready. We both look at each other, and in that implicit understanding that only two lowlife; upto no good people can, he opens the bottle for me and I pour a sizable quantity of whiskey onto theMaggiei.

It is served. Kid eats it, his face happy. It actually tastes good. And once he finishes it, the two of us get ready for the confession.

" Actually.. we added.."

"Vodka? Beer?" he asks.

"Nope dude, whiskey." We sheepishly reply.

addendumm: why do I blog this? Because I miss the Kid and my partner in this crime. And also because the magi did turn out rather well. And my grand boss told me - after I told him this story over dinner one evening - that vodka or wine is usually added to food to give it that extra zing.

A fever...

2006-07-25T08:34:00.000-07:00

A fever...

Makes you prioritize your life. You will still watch Johnny Depp's antics on screen, but will sacrifice fashion and will go bundled up in a winter coat in Gurgaon.

Makes you talk less and listen more. You have to, especially if your throat hurt every 30 seconds.

Makes you prioritize your work. First things first! Every minute is a race against falling flat on the bed.

Makes you develop your own diet. If I have been eating the way I do when I am ill, I would never get sick. Body knows what to eat and drink, and what to avoid.

Makes you health conscious. It takes guts to ask someone else not to smoke around you, especially when you are not smoking. The times when I had ended up stinking of cigarette smoke [ both sexes guilty ]... but a fever puts me in the self preservation mode and make me move away.

Men Continued

2006-07-09T14:40:00.000-07:00

However, I would strongly recommend any girl to have some guys as close friends around. Its all very well to have women friends around, but you do need men to tell you :

"Stop being such a drama queen!" Honey, lets face it - we would love our lives to be one long Mills and Boons or Yash Chopra/Karan Johar movie. However, it is seldom so. Life is boring and most of the times, very ordinary. But we tend to view it with 100 garishly dressed dancers and loads of background music. The men tell us to get a reality check, and move on with our life.

"That looks stupid on you." Your best guy friends never let you go out looking like someone from a kid's nightmare. Their incredulous looks and inability to mask that "are you really going to pay money to wear it? " look save you from many fashion fumbles.

"He is not worth it." Our women friends are expected to say it. But when the men speak out against one of their creed, it sounds more credible.

"Anything is fine." Really, you can wear anything on a guys night out with the boys. However, it is only advisable if you guys are 100% friends.

"I will pay for it." And most of the times, they will. While it is alright to split the bill equitably amongst your girl pals, it does feel nice to be treated to something once in a while.

"Lets watch it." They do not mind watching comic book movies the second time just to give you company.

"It's cool, dude." They are fine with you forgetting their birthdays, even if they happen to remember yours.

"@#!#? ^*$@~@#$!!!" When was the last time you really had an abuse session with your gal pals? We need men to truly let down our wild side and to airlift us from there when things get dirty.

"I'm so sorry.." They are. They truly are when they think that they have hurt us. But rather than telling it like our gal pals, they make it up to us in a thousand different ways.

Men... How can women ever hate them?

Men!

2006-07-01T09:58:00.000-07:00

Lets get back to my favorite subject: Men. First the Yucky stuff: The freaks in Orkut.

What makes people think that I would be interested in adding totally unknown men as my 'friend'? Why, O why; do they think that I would be oh so impressed by their pick up messages and corny teasers? Why do they think that if they say a 'Hi' or comment that I have an interesting profile - News Flash : I DON'T have one, so don't even try that line on me! - I would want to talk to them?

Now the hotty stuff : FIFA World Cup.

Whoever said that women doesn't love football is an idiot. We do love football, or for that matter, any game where fit and virile men wear shorts and run around with funky hairdos. Especially when we are surrounded by beer bellies and balding heads, even a Peter Crouch looks sexy.

We do know the fundas about offside and the yellow and red cards. But still, it is fun to ask a man to explain offside. Last night at a friend's place, we had a dude explain offside using Nokia communicators ( there were a couple lying around ) and a match box. It was actually pretty entertaining. Gals out there, try it out. It makes men make some weird football analogies. Last night it was compared to parking a car in the garage.

Our favorite part of the game is when they score. The antics of men when they kick a ball into a net is pretty much fun to watch. However, the most interesting part is when they take their shirts off - ooops, exchange the jerseys after the match.

Now the sweet stuff : Marathon smses.
It is really sweet when they dutifully reply to your emails and smses, call you up and listen to your smallest details of life, and advice you and cheer for you from the sidelines like big brothers and finally give you a good night kiss - via sms - and push you off to bed.

Now for the cutsy stuff: Wee bit jealousy.

It is very cute when men get jealous, but feel too high-minded to let you know that they are jealous. It is cuter still when they try to put it in such a way that they are not really jealous, but giving you good advice which just happen to tell you to not buy that new male friend of yours any birthday gifts. But the cutest is when they get caught in the act and realize that you have been knowingly needling them and go all incommunicado.

Men! Such a lot of work unfinished, but life would be much duller without them.

Vignettes of Conversation

2006-06-25T04:56:00.000-07:00

I did not have more than two shots of tequilas this weekend. Given my history of weekend binges, this one was sedate by all accounts. But given a choice to relive any of the three weekends that I spent in Gurgaon, this one wins hands down.

That is because you called up. Then you too called up. Funny isn't it; that one person can affect you so much? After a combined phone conversation amounting to 75 minutes - given that we both grunt our news to each other and hang up - I was giddy with happiness. The simple fact that someone calls you up, and talks to you can affect you so much. Yes, it is a scary state to be in, but the highs you get are amazing.

A few days back, I was discussing this with a friend of mine. " Why do I feel so emotional when it comes to my personal life? Why do I become paranoid and crazy when someone doesnot talk to me?? How can I allow others to affect my life so much?? I wish I was as cool and collected in my personal life as in my professional life."

"But why??? Granted, it hurts a lot and it drives you crazy. But then, doesn't it also make you happy? Unless you feel the sadness, how will you feel the joy?"

True. Very True.

Now cut to another conversation. We were talking about a common friend who had to undergo some emotionally hard times. So my friend asks me:

"But why are girls so stupid??"

"Girls are generally stupid when it comes to love."

A Pause.

"Even me."

"Oh."

Cut to another conversation.

"I dont know what I am doing. I am acting like a 14 year old!!"

"It's good that you realize that you are acting like one. And stop being such a drama queen! It's not the end of the world, you know!"

Yup, it is not. And I know it. But it still makes me better when you spell it out to me.

Gurgaon Vignettes

2006-06-20T01:55:00.000-07:00

Friend, on the way to a dinner invitation : "We can call this our rural stint. There are just malls and nothing else here!"

Malls are the magic lamps of Aladdin in Gurgaon. Your basic needs like food, sprits, movies, clothes, jewelries etc. would be provided for in these wonderlands. If you want something beyond these, buddy, best of luck!

Evenings are earmarked for passive smoking. Yup, you heard it right. Having a lot of friends who smoked in the past as an alternative to breathing has made me a passive smokaholic. So much so that like a plant searching out sunlight and moving towards it, I position myself in the best advantageous position to get a whiff of smoke.

I have earmarked my weekends for socializing. Till now, I have socialized with Signora Tequila and Mr. Whiskey. Mr. Cut from Wills Navy also made an appearance. I guess there were some homo sapiens around. I also remember shooting off some drunken mails to some of my friends, which would explain the fact that they have not passed me their new mobile numbers yet.

The other day a friend who has a taste in books called up. He almost had a stroke when I told him that I was then reading the tabloid pages of TOI.

However my company, in it's infinite wisdom, decided to save me from the scorn of my intellectually snobbish friends - "What?? So now you may as well as start reading Sidney Shelton and Mills and Boons! What happened to you??" - and send me to the land of sprawling libraries, rabindra sangeet and second hand bookshops.

City of joy, here we are to meet again!

My philosophy - in terms of Matrix

2006-06-04T00:15:00.000-07:00

Neo: "How about I give you the finger... and you give me my phone call." - idea of bargaining

Morpheus: "Time is always against us. Please, take a seat there." - how I approach work

Neo: "I know Kung Fu." - 3 year old cousin
Morpheus: "Show me." - Me

Morpheus: "Don't think you are, know you are" - guiding principle of life

Morpheus: "Come on. Stop trying to hit me and hit me." - to cousins when fighting with them

Cypher (about his drink): "It's good for two things, degreasing engines and killing brain cells." - :)

Agent Smith: "Never send a human to do a machine's job." - about mom's computer skills

Agent Smith: "You are a plague, and we are the cure." - cousins before a nasty fight

Trinity: "No one has ever done anything like this." - project work
Neo: "That's why it's going to work." - ignorance or hope. your choice

Agent Smith: "Why isn't this serum working?" - mom tryin to communicate with me
Agent Brown: "Perhaps we're asking the wrong questions." - dad

Agent Smith: "You're empty." - mom
Neo: "So are you." - me

Agent Smith (hearing the coming subway): "Do you hear that, Mr. Anderson? That is the sound of inevitability." - on a phone ringin during dinner

Niobe: "A strategy is still being formulated." - project work
Morpheus: "I'm sure it is." - yeah, right.

Neo: "Hmm. Upgrades." - about cell phone

Lock: "Goddamnit, Morpheus! Not everyone believes what you believe!" - me
Morpheus: "My beliefs do not require them to." - mom

Lock: "If it were up to me, Captain, you wouldn't set foot on a ship for the rest of your life." - me
Morpheus: "Then I am grateful that it is not up to you." - mom

Cas (to Link about Zee): "You be careful with her, huh?" - mom to me when Im with my little cousin
Zee: "Don't worry about me, he's the one that's gonna get it." - cousin to himself

Morpheus: "Tonight let us shake this cave! Tonight let us tremble these halls of earth, steel, and stone! Let us be heard from red core to black sky. Tonight, let us make them remember. This is Zion! And we are not afraid!" - wetnite!

Bane: "Oh God." -students
Smith: "Smith will suffice." - Fr. Paul

Oracle: "What do all men with power want? More power." - on Kerala ministry division

Neo: "Why are you here?" - me
Oracle: "Same reason. I love candy." -mom

Merovingian: "Who has time? Who has time? But then if we do not ever take time, how can we ever have time?" - Mintu

Merovingian: "I love the French language.... fantastic language, especially to curse with... it's like wiping your arse with silk" - me

Morpheus: "Everything begins with choice." - dad
Merovingian: "No. Wrong. Choice is an illusion, created between those with power, and those without." -mom

Merovingian (about Neo stopping the bullets): "Okay, you have some skill. Kill him." - mom, about me.

Merovingian: "Goddammit woman, you will be the end of me." - dad to mom

Guard 1 (to another dozing guard): "Hey! You count sheep at home." - mom
Guard 2: "Why, I get paid to count 'em here." - union worker

Neo: "Choice, the problem is choice." - me

Architect: "Denial is the most predictable of all human responses." - dad

Merovingian: "You will find I lack the virtues of both tolerance and patience." me and mom

Smith: "I am the Alpha of your Omega. I am the beginning of your end." - corny freak in Orkut.

Au Revoir!

2006-06-04T00:10:00.000-07:00

As I get ready to move from inertness to activity tomorrow, here is a thank you note to all those TV channels and shows which kept me occupied through the better part of two months. Without much ado, here is my honor call:

Reality Shows:

Name: My big fat obnoxious fiancée

Theme: About two people trying to get married. However, unknown to the girl, the guy and his family are all actors hired by the show. She has to get her strict all American parents for the wedding.

Glee time: When the groom’s dad [a hired actor] ostensibly take off his undies when he and his family is in a swimming pool with the girl n groom. Her face! Oh my God… her face!!!

Name: America’s next top model

Theme: A set of model wannabes try to survive through weeks of sass of Tyra Banks.

Glee time: When Tyra & the judges pass their comments on the candidates’ snaps.

Name: Beauty & the Geek

Theme: A set of PYT’s and Mensa members are paired up and have to teach each other social skills n rocket science.

Glee time: When the ugliest guy among the group said about him and his partner: “We have chemistry here. Sparks are gonna fly.” Where is your sense of reality dude???

Name: The Cut

Theme: wannabe fashion gurus vie with each other to suck up to Tommy Hilfiger

Glee time: When they run to get the stuff right.

Name: American Idol

Theme: don’t tell me you don’t know!

Glee time: Whenever Taylor Hicks was on stage.

Serials/Soaps:

Desperate housewives. Yeah! Show them crazy, nasty, dizzy and paranoid!

Friends: Awwwwwww………..

Comedy Inc.: nice show!

PS: Thanks macha, for introducing me to reality shows through Survivor series.

PPS: Bye bye TV. I am gonna miss you. L

PPPS: This thrash post was influenced to a great extent by my fever. Excuse!

Unanswered

2006-06-02T00:48:00.000-07:00

Why do you act and feel like a preschooler when you are with your parents?

Why do your grandparents think of you as a baby in a cradle?

How can you enjoy the rains as much as you want anywhere else in the world, but a 3 minute exposure to the rains at home leave you with viral fever?

How come your grandparents are masteros of passive aggressive behavior?

Is it my moms method of oneupmanship - inviting my parents home so that they would irritate me to the core when I constantly remain nice and smiling towards them - [ instead of shouting matches as I have with my mom ] and end up with a migrane?

How come my aadoptee cat [ he adopted me ]knows the exact time I step outside my flat?

Am I going to turn up like my mom and - horrors of horrors - grand mom? Now I understand why a friend told that you should die before 50. Else, there is a very good chance of getting killed or being the reason for other people's nervous breakdowns.

How come the more closer I am to my departure date, the more closer me and my mom get to each other?

When is my fever gonna end?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!

The parting gift from kerala

2006-05-23T10:33:00.000-07:00

The rains are finally here. And they have washed up quite a lot of memories.

Of playing in the puddle, trying to catch the small fishes and tadpoles, ever vary of the watersnakes...

Of being wrapped up in a blanket and listening to the roar of rain at night...

Of prayers demanded, but unheeded...

Of hugging slightly wet doggies and retaining the doggy smell in my clothes all day....

Of waiting for the rain to start, forgetting to even breath and staring at the sky...

Of listening and identifying the roar of the ocean from the chatter of rain sitting in my backyard...

Of climbing down the almost full well when parents are not at home, and taking many impromptu bathes...

Of finding a great river in a nearby stream, and finding an ocean in the nearby pond...

Of watching the coconut trees lash out in agony as the wind laments for the falling drops...

Of books read with the rain as the background...

Of birds nests down and re-errected..

Rain for me, bring the memories of childhood back.

And during a not that long time ago -

Of cycling in the rain to reach home to wait for a phone call...

Of balancing an umbrella in one hand and the assignment in another - and keeping the assignment dry so that some one then special can submit it...

Of realising that it is not to be and crying, and the rain giving me company in a new place...

Of trekking in the hot sun, and suddenly being rejunuvated by the rain...

Of heartbreaks, and each time the rain cries my heart out for me...

Of walking in the rain with friends in the security of a campus with a small area but a large heart...

Of realities, and the sadness that they bring...

But rain consoles me... and substitutes my tears so that my ego remains unshattered.

My Reservations

2006-05-18T04:38:00.000-07:00

One upon a time, not that long ago and not so far away, when I was a kid, we had a servant at our home, called 'Rajani's mom' [ RM from here onwards.] She lived nearby, and had two kids, and the stereotypical, good for nothing husband. She did the jobs in and around the house, and went to the nearby cashew nut factory during day time. My mom and the other elders called her Ramani, but for me, she was always RM.

Now, Rajani and Rati always studied hard. My mom gave them some of the stuff which I never used. Those girls never had any tuition, except for some math and English classes which my mom took for their 10th standard exams. It was expected of them to get a job and do well in life, so they too put in their best.

Finally, Rajani managed to get a good rank in the medical entrance. We naturally expected her to get a medical admission. My mom began to explain the various student loan benefits to her mother. However, after counseling the girl did not make through.

Why?

Because another SC/ST candidate got the seat. Now, the candidate who got through was the daughter of a government office worker couples. She had been having tuitions in the best centers, studying in the best schools and colleges available, having 24x7 electricity and no hand me down clothes or torn books.

Which is less than what Rajani had. Rajani finally took up nursing. We felt bad. Everyone felt bad.

Now whenever I hear about reservations, I think about people like Rajani. Would she have benefited from all the pandemonium? I guess not. Chances are that children of tax evading business men who live a life of luxury and IAS officers will. And unless the government has a spine to bring forth the creamy layer rule [ exemption of economically forward SC/ST/OBC candidates from reservation and counting them as part of the general population ] people like Rajani are not going to benefit from it.

Looking at the other side of the coin, many of my upper caste friends are swearing that they will never go to an OBC/SC/ST doctor now. That they may doubt the merit of a SC/ST/OBC professional now. What if that person just got through reservations, and is an idiot?

The caste lines are being repeatedly defined by our government. Only if it had been done on monetary basis - atleast that line is fluid, not permanent.

F*** the B**en C***ts without brains who thought up this amazing idea.

Painful History

2006-05-15T08:41:00.000-07:00

Today was a painful day in my life. Having gone to the doc to remove a wart underneath my foot, I listened in horrified fascination as the dermatologist explained to me about the cryo-something that he is about to do on my foot. My dad watched me transform from brown to ash to white to yellow as the doc went on explaining, and intervened :

"She is extremely afraid of pain. She tends to pass out when injections are being given."

Mea Culpa. Despite my bravado and penchant in handling slimy creatures, assorted insects, nocturnal beings, dead fish and sea animals, I am extremely uncomfortable with pain. Let me rephrase it. I am so afraid of pain that even the possibility of pain freaks me out. And having a supersized imagination is no help.

However, thanks to the finer needles, for the past three injections, I have not been freaking out. I didn't even pass out. So this time for the cryofreezing [ I remembered the name - yipee!!] I sat on the chair bravely, eventhough it so reminded me of the dentist's chair.

My last encounter with the dentist's chair - for a filler session - had me black out when the doc tried to spray water into my mouth. I was in 2nd year engineering at that time.

This time, I think of my best friend , and keep talking to him in my mind. I always do it now, to prevent me from freaking out or erupting in a violent fit of anger. That boy has the knack of making me keep my cool. I talked to him - in my mind - about my leg, the politics, and the process that the doc is doing. Nothing happened so far. The process is over. I thank the doc, and my friend and god and step out into the reception.

No blood shed, not even a bandage, I'm cool!!!

The next moment, I am giddy, and I sink into the nearby chair. The swooning - to use a Jane Austian term - lasted for five minutes or more. My dad was unfazed at the face of the inevitable, and made me sit there for another half an hour.

The only consolation was that the receptionist thought of me as a highschool student. I walked out of the place before my dad had the chance to tell him that I am a PG owner, but not before he had told him of my swoon history - including the one time in highschool when my BP was being taken.

Desperate Lives

2006-05-11T09:33:00.000-07:00

There is nothing like having a guest from outside to see your state with clarity. Having played host to a fried of mine from the neighboring Tamland, I now sit here, to look back on the visit.

The primary facet of the Mallu psyche which had my friend shocked, disgusted and furious were.... you guessed it, the Mallu men.

Now, I am not a man hater. Neither is she. We both have men as our best friends, and have quite a large collection of male friends. Women are a distinct minority in our friendship circles.

Maybe, that is the reason which led to so much of outrage. Having so many men treat you good has led to a false sense of security, which was abused by strategic revealing of 'mundu' [ a long, skirt type cloth of mallu men which help them from a quick pee to a quick fuck ] to reveal their excitement in seeing us, to invitation to their beds, to abuse, to lewd gestures, to a not so friendly 'hai' 'hello' of total strangers, to men literally putting their head out to ogle at us.

Now, we are no nymphs. We are plain women, who do not merit even a second look outside kerala. But the depressed libodos of the male mallu transformed us to beauties. Oh well.....

However, the desperateness of these guys - whom we christened as DMMs : desperate Mallu Males - also affect us in other ways. Because of them, we are not allowed to go out after 6 pm. A dinner, a trip to the beach, the freedom to wear a short sleeved top than my nightshirt when I venture out home, the freedom to travel in the local bus - all these are debated upon, or outright prohibited by my parents because of the DMMs. I am not blaming them. A father hearing comments like " Heh... you came to guard them eh?? Amazing goods..." in the Kovalam beach will be psyched. Will be afraid. Will be paranoid.

Please do not think that I am bitching about Mallu men. I am not. I am not forgetting those friends who came with me in the middle of the night so that I could attend my first job interview which led to my first job. Those friends who told me about MBA. Those friends who took me around bangalore and showed me the sights of the city. Thise who readily gave me a lift at many places.

I am also bitching about the lady living in the ground floor, who called the guy who lives in the first floor a man of loose morals because he invited a gal pal of his over to his flat - horrors of horrors! - alone. My parents were the only ones who opposed the allegations amongst all the families in the complex- may be because I too have a lot of friends.

Kerala is God's own country, but infiltrated by devils. I hope that the new government teach girls some martial arts and choice abuses in schools to defend themselves from DMMs. desperate and outrageous suggestion, yes, but the situation there is also pretty desperate and filthy.

Talking about the new elections, I am proud of the Mallu electorate. Only those who tended to their constituencies won, leading to the fall of many fiefdoms. How come my state has such heightened political awareness? What is it that make us watch closely and deliver well aimed kicks which topple the thrones of power?

Then I remember: Kerala has more women than men. When men base their allegiance through unions and newspapers, women depend more on the day to day life. Water, good roads, electricity - small stuff, but the goddesses of small things make big things happen.

Again, this is an outrageous claim. But it would be nice if someone does a study on the female influence on the dynamic and comparatively dignified political scene in kerala.