Am i treading in troubled waters?? Naah...
(Boy...i am so screwed!)
And this one's a bit long...you have been warned...
Well Hello...again!
Here I am with another anecdote from my ‘very interesting’, admirable, attention-attracting, motivating, appealing, moving ,exciting, fascinating, mesmerizing, thrilling, gripping, compelling , riveting, enthralling and not to miss outrageously amusing life.
(Whew!! I’ve poured my entire vocabulary in these two lines! Good then, you can learn new words from here…then you cant say my blog’s a waste of time!!).
Its great to know people like what im doing here and its even better to know that finally people are laughing 'with' me and not 'at' me.(Whatcha sayin??You're laughing at me? Heheh...very funny! Go ahead then! lol-Laugh out loud!)
Anyways...Lets Rap...
Well last time I said parents are the last people you should take on 'trying' occasions- such as examinations, interveiws...the works...You take 'em along for 'moral' support and end up...well...loosing yourself.
[Please note that I am choosing my words carefully...v e r y carefully].
You are already anxious, tensed and ready…to run out whenever you get the chance. Your parents are even more anxious and exceedingly tensed and ready to sprint from the vicinity as soon as you enter your examination/interview room. Dunno bout your parents…but my parents really get worked up during my examinations (Why? Wish I knew…on the other hand…I'm fine without knowing…) especially my dad.
Picture this…
My 12th std board examinations. First paper- English.
I wasn’t nervous…at all. Not because it was English, strangely, I wasn’t nervous for any of my exams (Not even Physics!). I got up at 8.30 in the morning, the exam started at 11.00 am and the center was a half an hour drive away from our house- I had plenty of time for a quick revision.
Dad, as my mom told me, got up at 5.00 am. It seems he was waiting for the newspaper. This was weird. Dad never got up so early except when he had to catch a flight or something. I was too busy getting ready than thinking about my dad’s break in routine.
10.00 am, time to leave. I am slowly munching on my mom’s yummy Pohe. Dad is not eating. After mom pleads (and yells) does he have a bowl of cornflakes. After gulping his food, he sits and reads the newspaper for the fourth time. I close my book and continue eating
“Why did you close it?? Are you prepared?” he asks me.
“What? English? Oh yeah…” I continue eating.
He sits down next to me, twiddling his thumbs. I know what’s coming next…
“Check and recheck your paper at the end, draw a line after every answer, write neatly. Take as many supplements as you want…but write neatly! And don’t…”
“…leave the examination hall till the final bell rings… I know, I know!! Chill out dad” I finish
. “ I don’t like your attitude, it means you are not taking your exams seriously.”
“Dad these are board exams…it doesn’t get any serious than this!”
“Are you tensed?”
“Me? No way”
“Good.”
Its time to leave. Dad is pacing up and down the gallery. He’s coming to drop me to the exam center. Mom’s giving me the traditional 'Dahi-cheeni' for good-luck. I open my mouth for the yummy & sweet yoghurt.
“Do you want more betaa?”
“No mum…but I think dad needs it more than I do!”
We both laugh. Dad gets angry…
“We are getting late…!”
We take an auto rickshaw to the center. In the auto, Dad performs a ‘surgery’ on his mobile phone, opening it up, cleaning all the small parts in it and putting it back together.
We reach well in time. We are surrounded by kids doing their last minute revision. I, to much of Dad’s annoyance, am not revising.
“Why aren’t you revising?
“I'm prepared dad…”
“You’ve done everything”
“Yup…everything I could”
Wrong answer…
“What do you mean by ‘could’?”
A group of seven kind stand in front of us in a circle, poring over a textbook asking random questions. At every question they ask, my dad shoots a glance at me…expecting me to know the answer.
“Who’s the author of …”
“Who’s the poet of…”
“What was the reason behind…”
A very frantic looking girl asked ,” What’s the difference between a noun and a verb?”
“You’ve gotta be kiddin me!"I speak in an undertone. Dad hears me.
“Do you know it?”
“Dad…puhleeze!”
The bell rings, it’s just a warning bell.
I'm as cool as a cucumber. Dad’s a nervous wreck.
He wishes me luck and leaves.
Students are clearing off, leaving for their rooms. My room is on the ground floor. I put my bag in and come out again. I glance around, sneaking a look at the other parents with their kids. Some were advising their kids just like my dad was advising me. Some were un-concerned. Half of the kids didn’t bring along their parents.
I spotted a peculiar looking girl sitting on a bench with her mom. Who was more nervous? I don’t know. The girl was almost in tears shuffling around what looked like 5 kilograms of papers and books. Her mother (I could tell so because of the clear resemblance), wearing a formal business suite, was talking on the cell phone, carrying 8-12 files and shuffling through a official looking, leather bound book - near hysterics- and it clearly had nothing to do with her daughter’s examination.
“Poor girl” I thought.
The bell rings. As I turn towards my class, I hear a car door slam. A kid was running in from the gate, with 3-4 books in his hand, in full speed. Running equally fast was his father.
The boy, I guess, had to go up the stairs so he increases his speed. His dad follows suite.
I hear the boy thundering up the stairs. The guard stands in front of the running father’s way as parents aren’t allowed inside the premises.
The father was running in top speed and seeing a sudden obstacle (the guard) standing in front of him, makes a sudden U-turn and without stopping runs back out of the gate!!
I laugh…So does dad.
Where did he come from??
“I thought you left”
“No…not yet. Why aren’t you going inside?”
“I was just leaving.”
“Good luck and All the best”
I smile, “Thanks dad”
I am happy. I'm better off than most of the people here.Dad’s not tensed anymore (for the time being…)
Now for that English paper…
****************************************************************************
I slam the door, and tell Mom,
“This is the last time Dad is coming with me for an exam."
I see dad laughing.
3 months after my boards. I had just come back from Belapur (On the outskirts of Mumbai) after giving my AIEEE exam, which I was compelled to give. I gave it (in the words of my father) “to see the level of difficulty in all India exams”. But after what had happened to me in the morning…Ahhhh!
We were late. Really late.
Still, dad insisted to go by train
“You are going to miss the exam, go by taxi and come back by train” Mom said.
“Arrey, trains are the fastest mode of transport in Mumbai. We are going by train.”
“Do what suits you then.” Mom says, giving up.
We reach Kurla station by rickshaw. My dad was insisting that we take a bus till there! After me making quite a scene at the bus-stop did he oblige to my ‘request’.
It was 10.00 am and the exam started at 11.00am. Reporting time was 10.45am. The ticket line was half a kilometer long.
I was the nervous wreck this time. There is a lot of difference in not wanting to give an exam and not being allowed to give an exam. We get the tickets at 10.15 am.
“How much time does it take to reach Belapur by train?
“You’ll reach in time, don’t worry” Dad says, avoiding my gaze.
Not good…
We can see a train moving in towards the platform. It hardly halts for 10 seconds. Its ‘overly-over crowded’. I don’t even get to see the compartment. We miss the train. Its 10.30am by the way…
“I'm going to miss the exam…I know it…”
My friend calls me up on dad’s phone.
“Where are you” she asks
“You don’t wanna know…”
“Shut up and tell me…”
“Kurla”
“WHAT!? You know the exam is starting in…”
“…half an hour…I know…”
Not knowing what to say, she says, “Well...Umm...All the best”
“Yeah…if I reach there…thanks!”
Another train comes in. I'm ready to pounce in no matter what. So is dad.
The train stops, we push ourselves in. I get in the ladies compartment. Dad couldn’t get in the gents compartment, so he gets in the luggage compartment.
Wrong decision
The luggage compt. carries luggage (Duh!), fruits and vegetables' vendors with their wares and other stuff.
Today’s special?
FISH.
Dad is a vegetarian.
Uh oh…
He can’t stand the odor of fish. So he very promptly jumps off!! The train is moving. My insides go dry. I'm spluttering like a gold-fish out of water. He is standing on the platform. Smiling and waving at me!
“Why??!!” I shout
Dad not accompanying me wouldn’t have been a big deal. It was a big deal then because I did not know where the exam center was!
“Why does it always have to be me!!??” I cry out.
Its 10.45am
A kind lady lends her cell phone to me (I didn’t have one then….). I call dad. I couldn’t get thru to him for the first ten minutes, when I finally do, his message to me was short.
“Get off at Nerul, one station before belapur”
I was left hello-ing.
Its 11.00 am and I'm at Nerul waiting for dad. I see him getting of a train and both of us run full throttle to the exit.
“Don’t talk just run” Dad said when he saw me open my mouth demanding an explanation.
We take an auto and reach the exam center at 11.15am.
There was a tall staircase in front of me. Parents of other kids were standing on both sides.
Many of them shouted,
“Run Run…!”
“Go...Fast….!”
"Hurry up..."
It felt as if I was running in a marathon. I pictured myself running in slow motion…up the stairs…halfway through…I was winning…until…
I fell.
I bruised a knee. I could hear gasps behind me. I hobbled on, cursing the stairs to my allotted room.
I wasn’t the only one late that day. So it wasn’t a big deal after all.
“Don’t ask me how the exam was” I said when I saw dad after the exam.
“I'm not asking” he said.
We trudged along to the station again. I started complaining.
“I promise you, this is the starting piont, we’ll get an empty train.”
The train stopped at the platform. Dad went of to the gents compartment and me to the ladies’. It wasn’t empty, I didn’t get space to sit. But I could breathe.
Famous last words
At Nerul, I swear the entire population of Mumbai got in that compartment. I was pushed against the wall and I had no idea where I was. I remember myself standing near the doorway on the left. After 3 stations, I was standing on the right hand side door. Totally squashed.
3 stations left to Kurla…
I had to make my presence felt. I started shouting.
“Mujhe kurla par utarna hai!” (I have to get off at Kurla!)
No one listened. There were kids shrieking, women shouting, fighting and yelling.
Hell would be better I thought.
Finally at kurla, I was pushed out (A few aunties were very kind to do the pushing part.).
I fell on my knees on the station…
“Land!!” I cried “And I'm alive!!”
A few people actually thought that I had fallen down so they help me up. I see dad and we frantically search for the exit.
We came out of the station. Dad says,
“There’s the bus stop. C’mon”
I give my dad a piercing stare (and no, I'm not smiling….)
“Don’t even think about it…”
We go home in an auto rickshaw. Alive.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
What's in a name...?!
Well!
Here I am…again!
People think I'm really good at this…I really don’t think so! Its actually the stuff’s that happened to me which makes my blog interesting. I'm just penning them down (Penning…??!). But getting all that positive feedback is always great! Heheh…
(I’ve actually got threatened by some of my friends to hurry up with my next post already! Sheeeesh! )
Well was named Devyani by my parents. Devyani is a Hindu goddess, Lord Indra’s wife. And she was known for her beauty and wisdom (none of which I have….). After being called ‘Devyani’ by my family for the past 18 years …I’ve kind of grown used to and attached to it. (Well, they prefer calling me by my pet name-Minnie, when I'm referred to as ‘Devyani’ by my parents…I know I'm in deep trouble!!)
My friends however, call me anything BUT Devyani. Its ‘normally’ stuff like- Devnani, devrani, devo-ki-nani (this is what my friends in class 3 used to call me which means Grandmother of the gods!!! Ha ha ha!), devoo, dee, devv, devoo motors, devyaniji, mayavati (You don’t want to know why I was called this!!) and the most recent one ‘maharani’ (because of my ‘her highness-ish’ attitude I guess…) but nowadays they’ve stuck to a simple ‘Devy’ which is my favorite of all these names. Now if someone calls me ‘Devyani’ in college…I feel really weird!
My teachers in school called me ‘Devyani’. Plain n’ simple. But it was usually uttered in a half shouting manner and followed by stuff like “…you are the biggest chatterbox I’ve ever seen!” or “…if I make you sit next to a buffalo, I'm sure you’ll start talking to it too!”. And it all ended up in the teacher pulling her hair and praying to God to make me shut up!
In Jr college my professors used to call me, C-56 or F-20 which were my roll numers in class 11th and 12th grade respectively. A few days ago, I met my old biology teacher. She recognized me and screwed up her face, trying to remember my name. A balloon of hope inflated in my heart. “Maybe she will….maybe…”.
She relaxed her face and smiled and said, “ F-20, rite?”.
POP
My balloon burst.
I smiled back and said, “Yeah ma’am…but I'm B-34 nowadays!”
I’ve never felt weird about how long or how unique my name was. Until that one day.
I was accompanying my cousin for an interview she had to give in Churchgate (a place in Mumbai) since she didn’t know Mumbai that well. I had my vacations going on, so I happily (readily, eagerly, enthusiastically, earnestly, ardently) accepted her request. The three of us (My cousin, me and my i-Pod –I count it as a loveable member of my family) left for Churchgate at 8:00 in the am. The interview was basically for as scholarship for studying abroad, which was to last for 3 hours. I didn’t mind as I had my iPod(god bless technology!) with me. With 300+ songs stuffed in it, I knew 3 hrs would pass like 3 minutes. After wishing my cousin all the luck, I popped the headphones in my ears and snuggled in a comfy sofa in the lobby of the venue.
After 21/2 hrs, a harried looking elderly man, much to my annoyance, came and sat next to me. He was getting real fidgety and anxious. I suspected his son/daughter my have come to give the interview too. Parents are the worst people to bring along to such places. I resumed listening to my iPod which was now playing a particularly jumpy song. The man was looking at me. I managed to give him half a smile, which he took as a signal to trigger a conversation with me (much to my annoyance…again).
“Have you come for giving the interview?”
South-indian for sure, by his accent
“No I'm accompanying my cousin”
“Ahhh, I thought so, you were looking too young.”
I smiled back in reply. He went on.
“So what are you doing?... Oh! BSc??... In zoology?... It’s not a very common branch is it?”
“Yeah…it pays to do something different sometimes” I said with quite a conclusive tone. But the man, unfazed, went on.
“Yes, very right you are. People should do different things. The IT sector is overflowing nowadays. In the next few years, there wont be any jobs available…” and he went on and on and on.
“The perfect candidate for the Ameron Batteries mascot.” I thought.
He was still talking about some statistics and percentage decrease of jobs.
“What does your father do?”
“He works for ONGC”
“Does ONGC give scholarships?” he asked with a hint of hope.
“It does, but its mostly for the employee’s wards…I guess”
"They should give it to other students also..."
He went on about the lack of scholarships for aspiring students and how resources are wated on other trivial things like un-necessary perks for employees”
Ahhhh!!
Finally he asked…
“What is your name?”
“Huh??”
“Your name…”
And people call me ‘tube light’ I thought.
“Devyani” I replied
“Ahhh…are you an Iyyer?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not a south Indian?”
Lots of people get confused here, I won’t blame them. I look south Indian and my name is south Indian-ish too. But I'm a rajput through and through.
“Rajput? ”The man said with a disgruntled look, “They don’t have names like these…”
I had the urge of saying, “Tah Dah!!” but I just smiled.
“Why is your name Devyani?”
Somebody please kill me!!
“I don’t know, my grandma liked this name, so she kept it I guess.”
“Do you know what it means?”
You’ve gotta be kidding me dude…
I gave him the above explanation about Lord Indira’s wife and he wasn’t happy with my explaination.
“That’s okay, but what does it mean?”
“I…don’t know”
“Youngsters today!! They don’t even know why they are called what they are called…”
And it started again. I was still having that pained smile on my face.
“Do you know the meaning?” I asked, out of irritation. I really had had enough.
“ ‘Deva’ means god and ‘anni’ (which he pronounced as yanni) means elephant. Your name means God’s elephant.”
“WHAT??!”
“God’s elephant..haathi…”
No ways...any crap!!
I saw my cousin walking out of the lift. I really didn’t know how to react- relived, happy, sad, embarrassed…I was like a soup of emotions that very moment.
“My cousins come…ive gotta go. Bye”
“Nice taking to you…” he said
Yeah right…
I interrogated my grandmother about this. She just laughed it over.
“It doesn’t matter what your name means, its who you are which does”
That really felt better.
“And speaking of elephants…you better loose some weight before I see you next”
“Yes nani…”
Grandma’s simple sentence really made me feel better.
After all, what’s in a name??
(Although God's elephant is a bit over the top...dont ya think??)
Here I am…again!
People think I'm really good at this…I really don’t think so! Its actually the stuff’s that happened to me which makes my blog interesting. I'm just penning them down (Penning…??!). But getting all that positive feedback is always great! Heheh…
(I’ve actually got threatened by some of my friends to hurry up with my next post already! Sheeeesh! )
Well was named Devyani by my parents. Devyani is a Hindu goddess, Lord Indra’s wife. And she was known for her beauty and wisdom (none of which I have….). After being called ‘Devyani’ by my family for the past 18 years …I’ve kind of grown used to and attached to it. (Well, they prefer calling me by my pet name-Minnie, when I'm referred to as ‘Devyani’ by my parents…I know I'm in deep trouble!!)
My friends however, call me anything BUT Devyani. Its ‘normally’ stuff like- Devnani, devrani, devo-ki-nani (this is what my friends in class 3 used to call me which means Grandmother of the gods!!! Ha ha ha!), devoo, dee, devv, devoo motors, devyaniji, mayavati (You don’t want to know why I was called this!!) and the most recent one ‘maharani’ (because of my ‘her highness-ish’ attitude I guess…) but nowadays they’ve stuck to a simple ‘Devy’ which is my favorite of all these names. Now if someone calls me ‘Devyani’ in college…I feel really weird!
My teachers in school called me ‘Devyani’. Plain n’ simple. But it was usually uttered in a half shouting manner and followed by stuff like “…you are the biggest chatterbox I’ve ever seen!” or “…if I make you sit next to a buffalo, I'm sure you’ll start talking to it too!”. And it all ended up in the teacher pulling her hair and praying to God to make me shut up!
In Jr college my professors used to call me, C-56 or F-20 which were my roll numers in class 11th and 12th grade respectively. A few days ago, I met my old biology teacher. She recognized me and screwed up her face, trying to remember my name. A balloon of hope inflated in my heart. “Maybe she will….maybe…”.
She relaxed her face and smiled and said, “ F-20, rite?”.
POP
My balloon burst.
I smiled back and said, “Yeah ma’am…but I'm B-34 nowadays!”
I’ve never felt weird about how long or how unique my name was. Until that one day.
I was accompanying my cousin for an interview she had to give in Churchgate (a place in Mumbai) since she didn’t know Mumbai that well. I had my vacations going on, so I happily (readily, eagerly, enthusiastically, earnestly, ardently) accepted her request. The three of us (My cousin, me and my i-Pod –I count it as a loveable member of my family) left for Churchgate at 8:00 in the am. The interview was basically for as scholarship for studying abroad, which was to last for 3 hours. I didn’t mind as I had my iPod(god bless technology!) with me. With 300+ songs stuffed in it, I knew 3 hrs would pass like 3 minutes. After wishing my cousin all the luck, I popped the headphones in my ears and snuggled in a comfy sofa in the lobby of the venue.
After 21/2 hrs, a harried looking elderly man, much to my annoyance, came and sat next to me. He was getting real fidgety and anxious. I suspected his son/daughter my have come to give the interview too. Parents are the worst people to bring along to such places. I resumed listening to my iPod which was now playing a particularly jumpy song. The man was looking at me. I managed to give him half a smile, which he took as a signal to trigger a conversation with me (much to my annoyance…again).
“Have you come for giving the interview?”
South-indian for sure, by his accent
“No I'm accompanying my cousin”
“Ahhh, I thought so, you were looking too young.”
I smiled back in reply. He went on.
“So what are you doing?... Oh! BSc??... In zoology?... It’s not a very common branch is it?”
“Yeah…it pays to do something different sometimes” I said with quite a conclusive tone. But the man, unfazed, went on.
“Yes, very right you are. People should do different things. The IT sector is overflowing nowadays. In the next few years, there wont be any jobs available…” and he went on and on and on.
“The perfect candidate for the Ameron Batteries mascot.” I thought.
He was still talking about some statistics and percentage decrease of jobs.
“What does your father do?”
“He works for ONGC”
“Does ONGC give scholarships?” he asked with a hint of hope.
“It does, but its mostly for the employee’s wards…I guess”
"They should give it to other students also..."
He went on about the lack of scholarships for aspiring students and how resources are wated on other trivial things like un-necessary perks for employees”
Ahhhh!!
Finally he asked…
“What is your name?”
“Huh??”
“Your name…”
And people call me ‘tube light’ I thought.
“Devyani” I replied
“Ahhh…are you an Iyyer?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not a south Indian?”
Lots of people get confused here, I won’t blame them. I look south Indian and my name is south Indian-ish too. But I'm a rajput through and through.
“Rajput? ”The man said with a disgruntled look, “They don’t have names like these…”
I had the urge of saying, “Tah Dah!!” but I just smiled.
“Why is your name Devyani?”
Somebody please kill me!!
“I don’t know, my grandma liked this name, so she kept it I guess.”
“Do you know what it means?”
You’ve gotta be kidding me dude…
I gave him the above explanation about Lord Indira’s wife and he wasn’t happy with my explaination.
“That’s okay, but what does it mean?”
“I…don’t know”
“Youngsters today!! They don’t even know why they are called what they are called…”
And it started again. I was still having that pained smile on my face.
“Do you know the meaning?” I asked, out of irritation. I really had had enough.
“ ‘Deva’ means god and ‘anni’ (which he pronounced as yanni) means elephant. Your name means God’s elephant.”
“WHAT??!”
“God’s elephant..haathi…”
No ways...any crap!!
I saw my cousin walking out of the lift. I really didn’t know how to react- relived, happy, sad, embarrassed…I was like a soup of emotions that very moment.
“My cousins come…ive gotta go. Bye”
“Nice taking to you…” he said
Yeah right…
I interrogated my grandmother about this. She just laughed it over.
“It doesn’t matter what your name means, its who you are which does”
That really felt better.
“And speaking of elephants…you better loose some weight before I see you next”
“Yes nani…”
Grandma’s simple sentence really made me feel better.
After all, what’s in a name??
(Although God's elephant is a bit over the top...dont ya think??)
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Breifcase
Hey!! Well here's post no 4!! Tah- Dah!!!
I thank you all for taking the pains of reading this stuff and giving me all that wonderful feed-back!!
Well, I ended my last post with a very simple sentence..."Such is life...". Simple? Think again. Philosophers all over the world have tried to find out the meaning of life and me sittin here pattering away on the keyboard simply says 'Hey! Thats life!!..." Weird? You bet. People say stuff like- "Life is just a chance to grow a soul" or "Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death." (Ugh!! Heavy stuff!!)
Normal people (Like me and you...? Hmm...Thats sumthing to think about) get away with stuff like "Life is like and ice-cream, eat it before it melts" or "Life like a boat, climb aboard before it sails away..."(Ho Hum). My favorite being ," Life is anything that dies when you stomp on it" and "Life should be like toilet paper...Long and useful"! Ha ha!! Ahh Long live these Wize-cracking Wizards!(And im not talking about Harry Potter here...!) Anyway, my point is, some people take a lifetime to understand life, for some it may take minutes; some, well- are to busy to give it a thought and some just dont bother. For me- it took a briefcase and 60 seconds.
We were in a train, on our way to Nagpur for a short holiday- and a family function. The first thing I do when I get on a train is grab a book, select the best of the 4 seats(Mostly the upper ones) allotted to our family of four and settle down reading, without interacting with anybody. My sister however, pesters my father to buy a book-(ie magazines,comics n stuff) and chats up with people if she can. People sometimes get surprised to know we are sisters.
I thank you all for taking the pains of reading this stuff and giving me all that wonderful feed-back!!
Well, I ended my last post with a very simple sentence..."Such is life...". Simple? Think again. Philosophers all over the world have tried to find out the meaning of life and me sittin here pattering away on the keyboard simply says 'Hey! Thats life!!..." Weird? You bet. People say stuff like- "Life is just a chance to grow a soul" or "Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death." (Ugh!! Heavy stuff!!)
Normal people (Like me and you...? Hmm...Thats sumthing to think about) get away with stuff like "Life is like and ice-cream, eat it before it melts" or "Life like a boat, climb aboard before it sails away..."(Ho Hum). My favorite being ," Life is anything that dies when you stomp on it" and "Life should be like toilet paper...Long and useful"! Ha ha!! Ahh Long live these Wize-cracking Wizards!(And im not talking about Harry Potter here...!) Anyway, my point is, some people take a lifetime to understand life, for some it may take minutes; some, well- are to busy to give it a thought and some just dont bother. For me- it took a briefcase and 60 seconds.
We were in a train, on our way to Nagpur for a short holiday- and a family function. The first thing I do when I get on a train is grab a book, select the best of the 4 seats(Mostly the upper ones) allotted to our family of four and settle down reading, without interacting with anybody. My sister however, pesters my father to buy a book-(ie magazines,comics n stuff) and chats up with people if she can. People sometimes get surprised to know we are sisters.
When I finally got bored of my book, I popped on my headphones and started listening to my iPod. After what seemed like 20 minutes my sisters head popped up.
“Answer this…whats the height of stupidity?”
“I dunno, What’s your height?” (Good one naa…??)
I snickered at my answer
“Ha ha very funny….”
“What do you want?” I interjected before she said something else.
“I want the iPod…you’ve been listening to it since ages!”
“Its just been 20 mins!”
“No, its been 3 hrs”
“Yeah…rite” I replied sarcastically.
“I'm not moving until you give that to me.”
“High hopes”
She stood there (Mind you I was on the upper berth…so she was kind of hanging by a pole). I really have to admire her patience! She stood like that for ten minutes!!
“I refuse to give up
I refuse to give in…”
Shes still standing there….
“ I don’t wanna give up…
I don’t wanna give in…Oh no…”
“Ahh!! Take it and get lost!!”
“Yaay! Toodles!”
I was left grumbling to myself. iPodless.
“Sisters! Bah!! Wait until next time…ill get back at you…someday”
I returned back to my book. The train screeched to a halt at some station.
The bogie was pretty crowded. I suspected it was the holidaying crowd going home for their holidays. One gentleman entered in, in quite a hurry. (I noticed him out of all people because –1. He was out of breath, looking hassled and 2. He was wearing a loud orange shirt on brown trousers!! A major fashion faux pas I must say!) In his hand was a black briefcase.
He was talking to a person sitting in front of me on the bottom berth.
“Excuse me Bahisahab. Can you please take care of my bag? I need to go down to the platform and meet some one.”
Bhaisahab was least interested in what Mr Loud-shirt was saying. He hardly looked up from his magazine he was reading and grunted a yes.
“Thank you”
And saying this he placed his briefcase near the window and left. Right above the place where the briefcase lay was a sign reading “Please report any unaccompanied baggage to the authorities, for your safety and others”.
I sat bolt upright.
I saw Mr Loud Shirt hurrying towards the doorway
Ohkay, don’t panic…the guy probably must be here somewhere, don’t jump to conclusions.”
“…report any un-accompanied baggage …”
“There must be hundreds of bags lying around like that!”
“…for your safety and others…”
I gulped.
I frantically searched for any sign of a bright orange shirt in the gallery. I found none.
My heart raced as I thought of the unthinkable. My mind wandered to the 11/7 train blasts in Mumbai the previous year. I looked for my parents. Dad was reading ‘Outlook’ which had a man with bloodshot eyes holding, what looked like an AK-47, staring at me from the cover.
“This is crazy” I thought. Was I seeing omens?
Mom was sitting a bit far off, I couldn't see her. My sister was no help at all. She was on the berth below me. I could hear her sing.
“…with their tanks and their bombs;
and their bombs and their guns,
in your head…in your head ,
they are dying…”
“You have the WORST timing ever, sis” I thought.
I sat there and sweated like a pig, even in the cold A.C bogie. My heartbeat increased every second.
“A few minutes ago, I was worried about my sister and a stupid iPod.” I thought. “Before that, I was worried if I packed my bag properly. It all seems so…insignificant now…”My eyes rested on the briefcase. A ragged old, black briefcase.
Sumthing struck me...
Now that i was thinking about death, did I realise the importance of life. Never did somebodys misfortune or hardships stir me more than my own plight did. Strange as it may seem, I had a new positive outlook (Not the magazine) towards life. Life seemed...precious. I wanted to live- more than ever before.
My life IS like a briefcase. Packed with so many things- both important and unimportant(…for me but significant for my living) lying pell- mell inside it, appearing to be over-stuffed with emotions but always having room for more. My life is not like a ‘book’ which one could read cover to cover, it is a briefcase…a ‘depot’ of my emotions, feelings and thoughts. I wanted to keep on filling it..till it burst (I vigorously shook my head...Anything BUT burst...)...till it overflowed.
“Beautiful…” I mockingly sniffed, “If I survive this, I'm gonna jot this down somewhere”.
IF…
The train hooted. My pulse raced.
"Oh my god oh my god…"
Mr Loud Shirt was nowhere in sight. The train started to move. I had to tell someone.
“Its now or never…here goes nothing…” .The train was picking up speed with my every thought.
Just as I opened my mouth to call out to my Dad, there he was standing at the doorway out of breath (Surprise!!) again. He walked in. Git.
“Thank you bhaisahab. I almost lost the train!”
Bhaisahab merely looked over his magazine and grunted again.
Sheeeesh!!
I was besieged by an un-natural calm. Like there were no more worries in the world. I still don’t know why. I must have had an odd expression on my face as it made my father ask me, “ Are you okay??”.
To which I replied, “ I'm fine Dad, never felt better”.
My sister switched to a new song (Thank God!), by Bryan Adams (Bless her!!)
“On a day like today,
No one complains,
The sun’s gonna shine,
Shine through the rain,
On a day like today,
You never wanna see the sun go…down…”
Until Next time...
Peace!
Monday, July 9, 2007
Me and my Bigg Mouth Part-II
So post no. 3 finally. I know you were dying to read it...(Better not get my hopes up!). Anyways i hope u enjoyed my last post.
Well as the posts keep on coming, u might get an idea of what kind of person i am. Till now u know umm...err...that i...umm...like reading books(what??), i am a little hard of hearing (maybe because I'm not paying attention to who's saying what) and I'm amusing (Oh! Am i ?? Boy you flatter me!!) and now you will know...I'm tad dyslexic.(Too big a word for you??) Dyslexic people are slow learners. Its not a disease its a disorder. I get very confused when i see lots of numbers, my sense of direction is pathetic (Its happened loads of times-almost every day- that while travelling in an auto-rickshaw to someplace I'll tell the driver to go left whilst pointing to the right....! Can you beat that!?) and i get confused with lots of words...like unisexual (Having one sex -either male or female) with homosexual (In bland terms- gay) and bisexual (having two sexes) with heterosexual (straight). It might be nothing for you...but these four terms here landed me into lots of trouble. Ulp!
The term 'sex' is taboo in India.(I can imagine loads of eyebrows being raised in the paragraph above...but trust me...this is a clean blog.No icky stuff I promise!). Anything heard containing that' three lettered word' is rewarded by astonished and sometimes angry stares from over-hearers (does this word exist...? No?...well then from now on it does).We as science students have to deal with the term when its being referred in context to gender or otherwise and it doesn't really matter to us (does it?? Naaah....).
All of us first year-ers who had opted for botany had a tough time preparing for it and regretted the decision of taking it up. I used to think what can be more easy than studying a plant- its green, it cant move or speak . How hard can it be? But it seems that the simplest things in life turn out to be the most complex ones after all. Who knew that we would be studying so many plants that i would start growing roots myself by the time i learnt all their properties!! Those Lil' things we would pull out while sitting on the ground had chemical reactions going on inside them so complex that we couldn't learn them even if they were etched on our brain!! Hell! (Kids...never pull out plants...ever...they know how to take revenge!!)
After a gruelling botany practical exam, me and my friends were chilling out (Big Time!) near a crowded bus stop. We decided to discuss the paper.(Big mistake!)
"What was the third specimen??"
"It was a monocot root"
"No it wasn't...it was a monocot leaf"
"How can you say that? I clearly saw it was a monocot root!!"
"It had stomata on it...Ive learnt enough botany to say stomata are not found on roots!!"
"Impossible...it wa...."
(Third cutting in)
" Both of you are wrong...that specimen was a permanent slide of vascular bundles. Your 'stomata' probably were the parenchymatous tissues...."
"I know stomata when i see them...How can you be so sure..."
"I asked the peon"
"HAH! If the peon knew so much...he wudnt be a peon today...he would be our professor....and the Vascular bundles were the first specimen not the third "
"Rubbish....the first one was an Ascaris...."
"Ascaris???(clearly bewildered) That's in Zoology!! It's an animal you idiot!!"
Aah! This 'enlightening conversation' of budding botanists (count me out...) caught quite some attention. , We however continued our schmooze.I was the only one from the group going home by bus,so my 'friends' decided to see me off. I too didn't bother to tell them not to.(Big Mistake... again). Not bothering to keep our voices down-
"Finally done with it...its over!"
"Oh yeah...."
"That specimen given for classification-the one with orange flowers-was from unisexuales right??"
"Yup..."
"Thank god!!"
"I hope you mentioned that point in the third question about the flower being ....."
And it went on and on....until....
"Its better in humans...once unisexual...always unisexual...."
[Note: PLs remember I confuse unisexual with homosexual and bisexual with heterosexual.....]
So i say, "Not necessarily..."
"What....??"
"Yeah...you heard me...its not necessary. Its the person's choice...you know" (getting a little red on the face now-we were standing on the bus stop remember. I see people discreetly trying to hear our talk.)
My friend is now really puzzled,"Devi, all human are born unisexuals you know that don't you....?"
"Born unisexuals?? They are not born unisexuals!!"
"(Speaking Slowly-as in 'speed' not 'tone') Ohkay, what are you trying to say? All of us here are unisexuals..."
(Now raising my voice-a bit)"I guess too much of botany does some damage to the brain..."
"Yeah...I can see that in you!!"
(I can feel my temper rising) "You talk about yourself...Mr Unisexual"
(People are looking at us now....)
"Oh yeah...and who exactly are you....?"
"I'm bisexual..."I shouted [I strongly meant- heterosexual...but...(sigh)]
"What??"
"you heard me...Im bisexual"
I have never seen a bus stop gone so quiet.
Then...realisation crashed on me like a wave. I was drenched with stupidity and the realisation of what I had said , what i had meant to say and what i had said, meant .
"Oh no...oh no...OH NO!!!"
Too late....
"HA HA HA!!!"
" Shut up guys....I didn't..."
"HA HA HA...."
All the unclejis and auntyjis were staring at me as if i were an alien from a third world country. I could see one particular man staring at me so intently, tht if he didn't blink, his eyes would pop out.Im damn sure none of them knew the meaning of 'bisexual' just because i uttered 'that word' i was getting the stare treatment. My friends were laughing their heads off thanks to my stupidity. I heard the limited 255 i go by screech to a halt in front of me. I gratefully clambered in and occupied an empty seat. Mr. Pop-out-eyes got in after me.There were only 2 vacant seats in the bus. One of which i occupied.The other was next to me. Mr Pop-out-eyes chose to stand rather than sit next to a bisexual. I Sniggered at the thought....
Such is life!
And the rest...as they say is history........
* * * * * * * *
Well someone asked me after reading my last post.You might wonder too...
"What's the use of writing your most embarrassing incidents all over the internet? You are embarassing yourself evern more arnt you? Such moments are not ment to be told. That why they are embaressing...."
Well mate..."One looses many laughs by not laughing at oneself....". So i have no problems writing such stuff...If any day i make a dull face light up with a smile, i think my day has been worthwhile. So have fun reading about me and my life.
If every word I said could make you laugh, I'd talk forever.......
Untill the next post then....
See ya!!
Well as the posts keep on coming, u might get an idea of what kind of person i am. Till now u know umm...err...that i...umm...like reading books(what??), i am a little hard of hearing (maybe because I'm not paying attention to who's saying what) and I'm amusing (Oh! Am i ?? Boy you flatter me!!) and now you will know...I'm tad dyslexic.(Too big a word for you??) Dyslexic people are slow learners. Its not a disease its a disorder. I get very confused when i see lots of numbers, my sense of direction is pathetic (Its happened loads of times-almost every day- that while travelling in an auto-rickshaw to someplace I'll tell the driver to go left whilst pointing to the right....! Can you beat that!?) and i get confused with lots of words...like unisexual (Having one sex -either male or female) with homosexual (In bland terms- gay) and bisexual (having two sexes) with heterosexual (straight). It might be nothing for you...but these four terms here landed me into lots of trouble. Ulp!
The term 'sex' is taboo in India.(I can imagine loads of eyebrows being raised in the paragraph above...but trust me...this is a clean blog.No icky stuff I promise!). Anything heard containing that' three lettered word' is rewarded by astonished and sometimes angry stares from over-hearers (does this word exist...? No?...well then from now on it does).We as science students have to deal with the term when its being referred in context to gender or otherwise and it doesn't really matter to us (does it?? Naaah....).
All of us first year-ers who had opted for botany had a tough time preparing for it and regretted the decision of taking it up. I used to think what can be more easy than studying a plant- its green, it cant move or speak . How hard can it be? But it seems that the simplest things in life turn out to be the most complex ones after all. Who knew that we would be studying so many plants that i would start growing roots myself by the time i learnt all their properties!! Those Lil' things we would pull out while sitting on the ground had chemical reactions going on inside them so complex that we couldn't learn them even if they were etched on our brain!! Hell! (Kids...never pull out plants...ever...they know how to take revenge!!)
After a gruelling botany practical exam, me and my friends were chilling out (Big Time!) near a crowded bus stop. We decided to discuss the paper.(Big mistake!)
"What was the third specimen??"
"It was a monocot root"
"No it wasn't...it was a monocot leaf"
"How can you say that? I clearly saw it was a monocot root!!"
"It had stomata on it...Ive learnt enough botany to say stomata are not found on roots!!"
"Impossible...it wa...."
(Third cutting in)
" Both of you are wrong...that specimen was a permanent slide of vascular bundles. Your 'stomata' probably were the parenchymatous tissues...."
"I know stomata when i see them...How can you be so sure..."
"I asked the peon"
"HAH! If the peon knew so much...he wudnt be a peon today...he would be our professor....and the Vascular bundles were the first specimen not the third "
"Rubbish....the first one was an Ascaris...."
"Ascaris???(clearly bewildered) That's in Zoology!! It's an animal you idiot!!"
Aah! This 'enlightening conversation' of budding botanists (count me out...) caught quite some attention. , We however continued our schmooze.I was the only one from the group going home by bus,so my 'friends' decided to see me off. I too didn't bother to tell them not to.(Big Mistake... again). Not bothering to keep our voices down-
"Finally done with it...its over!"
"Oh yeah...."
"That specimen given for classification-the one with orange flowers-was from unisexuales right??"
"Yup..."
"Thank god!!"
"I hope you mentioned that point in the third question about the flower being ....."
And it went on and on....until....
"Its better in humans...once unisexual...always unisexual...."
[Note: PLs remember I confuse unisexual with homosexual and bisexual with heterosexual.....]
So i say, "Not necessarily..."
"What....??"
"Yeah...you heard me...its not necessary. Its the person's choice...you know" (getting a little red on the face now-we were standing on the bus stop remember. I see people discreetly trying to hear our talk.)
My friend is now really puzzled,"Devi, all human are born unisexuals you know that don't you....?"
"Born unisexuals?? They are not born unisexuals!!"
"(Speaking Slowly-as in 'speed' not 'tone') Ohkay, what are you trying to say? All of us here are unisexuals..."
(Now raising my voice-a bit)"I guess too much of botany does some damage to the brain..."
"Yeah...I can see that in you!!"
(I can feel my temper rising) "You talk about yourself...Mr Unisexual"
(People are looking at us now....)
"Oh yeah...and who exactly are you....?"
"I'm bisexual..."I shouted [I strongly meant- heterosexual...but...(sigh)]
"What??"
"you heard me...Im bisexual"
I have never seen a bus stop gone so quiet.
Then...realisation crashed on me like a wave. I was drenched with stupidity and the realisation of what I had said , what i had meant to say and what i had said, meant .
"Oh no...oh no...OH NO!!!"
Too late....
"HA HA HA!!!"
" Shut up guys....I didn't..."
"HA HA HA...."
All the unclejis and auntyjis were staring at me as if i were an alien from a third world country. I could see one particular man staring at me so intently, tht if he didn't blink, his eyes would pop out.Im damn sure none of them knew the meaning of 'bisexual' just because i uttered 'that word' i was getting the stare treatment. My friends were laughing their heads off thanks to my stupidity. I heard the limited 255 i go by screech to a halt in front of me. I gratefully clambered in and occupied an empty seat. Mr. Pop-out-eyes got in after me.There were only 2 vacant seats in the bus. One of which i occupied.The other was next to me. Mr Pop-out-eyes chose to stand rather than sit next to a bisexual. I Sniggered at the thought....
Such is life!
And the rest...as they say is history........
* * * * * * * *
Well someone asked me after reading my last post.You might wonder too...
"What's the use of writing your most embarrassing incidents all over the internet? You are embarassing yourself evern more arnt you? Such moments are not ment to be told. That why they are embaressing...."
Well mate..."One looses many laughs by not laughing at oneself....". So i have no problems writing such stuff...If any day i make a dull face light up with a smile, i think my day has been worthwhile. So have fun reading about me and my life.
If every word I said could make you laugh, I'd talk forever.......
Untill the next post then....
See ya!!
Monday, July 2, 2007
Me and my bigg Mouth!! Part-1
Hey!
Well this is my second post here. I bet you were eagerly waiting for it! (ha ha). I was hoping I didn’t make a fool of myself and humiliate myself, as I very often do. Oh yeah! I have those ‘foot in mouth moments’ all the time! (Its so often…I’d rather call it feet in mouth!). People think I have a good sense of humor or a good ‘comic timing’. Little do they know most of these ‘masterpieces’ happen by accident mostly due to my ‘remarkable (extraordinary, outstanding noteworthy)’ hearing abilities (the results are quite entertaining!).
About a year ago, just after I had passed my 12th grade(miracles happen!), I had gone to Pune for an entrance exam with my elder cousin sister, who was supposed to give an exam too. After my exam was over we ate and roamed around the streets of Pune, sweating like hell. My cousin had a brainwave and she called up one of her dad’s friends, who lived nearby, to ask if we could drop in for a while. She said she knew this aunty and uncle since a long time and they used to be their neighbors in Delhi before they came to Pune. I gratefully trudged along. Getting out of the sun was on top of my priority list. We arrived at a huge bungalow, in the army’s residential area, with a beautiful manicured garden. Auntyji was on the gate waiting for us. I'm pretty sure I was sun stroked as I was feeling a bit woozy. My cousin introduced me to her, and I gave her a big smile, (which was more like showing off my teeth to a dentist!I normally do that when I don’t have anything to say, my friends can give testimony to that! I personally think its kind of stupid-just smiling away when someone’s talking to you! Sheeeesh! ) . Auntyji did not pay attention to my overwhelming smile and ushered us inside. My cousin though, gave me an ‘Are you okay?’ kind of look behind her back. I nodded in reply and followed her in.
We entered into a huge sitting room, a huge sitting room…with a fan…out of the sun…and comfy sofas…with a table on which were resting two glasses of chilled sherbet. Heaven!! I sipped my sherbet in silence as my cousin and auntyji started chatting. I was marveling the interiors of the house when I heard, “So betaa, What are your parents doing?”. “She’s talking to you” hissed my cousin. Now, because of my wooziness and because I was not paying attention to their talk, (if any of my teachers read this their reaction-“What’s new?? When was the last time Devyani has paid attention to anyone talking?” .True. He He He), I heard ‘friends’ instead of ‘parents’. Major Ooops! I was actually puzzled. Why would she be asking about my friends? But then I dropped the idea of asking her to repeat her question, I answered -(.I’ll give you a dialogue.I like writing dialogues! Its fun and addictive! Cant help it!)
ME: “Well Auntyji, they are running around for their admissions like me.”
AUNTYJI(Clearly baffled): “Huh?”
ME: (Clueless on her baffle-ness) “Yeah, Auntyji most of them haven’t scored well, You know.”
AUNTYJI: “Your p…”
Ive gotta learn to keep my moth shut…I didn’t let her finish. I went on…AAaaahhh!!
ME: “They are tying for engineering or medical, however I'm not interested in any of the two…”
AUNTYJI: “Wha…”
ME: “…We have loads of arguments on this topic” ( I went on uninterrupted)
MY COUSIN: (With a flabbergasted expression on her face) “She’s talking about your mum and dad-your parents!!!”
ME: “I….Oh….” (Smiling sheepishly…surprise surprise!) “I thought you said friends...I...ummm...erm”
Auntyji was still looking at me as I had completely lost it. I continued to sip on my sherbet which was boiling hot now…may be because of the heat of embarrassment I was exuding. My cousin kindly reminds me of this day every time she comes to visit.
Well…cant help it! Life’s like that! It pushes ya in the mud and then pulls ya up and laugh right back at you. They key is to get back up and laugh with it! And laugh louder if possible. (Actually…that’s what friends do…but I had nothing else to describe it... but you get my point….i hope....heheh)
Well I have another very embarrassing anecdote to share with you people. That one takes the cake…I swear! And for that you’ll have to wait until my next post…next week! [I bet you can’t wait! ;o)]
See ya!!!
{Typical….rite??? I think so too…..}
Well this is my second post here. I bet you were eagerly waiting for it! (ha ha). I was hoping I didn’t make a fool of myself and humiliate myself, as I very often do. Oh yeah! I have those ‘foot in mouth moments’ all the time! (Its so often…I’d rather call it feet in mouth!). People think I have a good sense of humor or a good ‘comic timing’. Little do they know most of these ‘masterpieces’ happen by accident mostly due to my ‘remarkable (extraordinary, outstanding noteworthy)’ hearing abilities (the results are quite entertaining!).
About a year ago, just after I had passed my 12th grade(miracles happen!), I had gone to Pune for an entrance exam with my elder cousin sister, who was supposed to give an exam too. After my exam was over we ate and roamed around the streets of Pune, sweating like hell. My cousin had a brainwave and she called up one of her dad’s friends, who lived nearby, to ask if we could drop in for a while. She said she knew this aunty and uncle since a long time and they used to be their neighbors in Delhi before they came to Pune. I gratefully trudged along. Getting out of the sun was on top of my priority list. We arrived at a huge bungalow, in the army’s residential area, with a beautiful manicured garden. Auntyji was on the gate waiting for us. I'm pretty sure I was sun stroked as I was feeling a bit woozy. My cousin introduced me to her, and I gave her a big smile, (which was more like showing off my teeth to a dentist!I normally do that when I don’t have anything to say, my friends can give testimony to that! I personally think its kind of stupid-just smiling away when someone’s talking to you! Sheeeesh! ) . Auntyji did not pay attention to my overwhelming smile and ushered us inside. My cousin though, gave me an ‘Are you okay?’ kind of look behind her back. I nodded in reply and followed her in.
We entered into a huge sitting room, a huge sitting room…with a fan…out of the sun…and comfy sofas…with a table on which were resting two glasses of chilled sherbet. Heaven!! I sipped my sherbet in silence as my cousin and auntyji started chatting. I was marveling the interiors of the house when I heard, “So betaa, What are your parents doing?”. “She’s talking to you” hissed my cousin. Now, because of my wooziness and because I was not paying attention to their talk, (if any of my teachers read this their reaction-“What’s new?? When was the last time Devyani has paid attention to anyone talking?” .True. He He He), I heard ‘friends’ instead of ‘parents’. Major Ooops! I was actually puzzled. Why would she be asking about my friends? But then I dropped the idea of asking her to repeat her question, I answered -(.I’ll give you a dialogue.I like writing dialogues! Its fun and addictive! Cant help it!)
ME: “Well Auntyji, they are running around for their admissions like me.”
AUNTYJI(Clearly baffled): “Huh?”
ME: (Clueless on her baffle-ness) “Yeah, Auntyji most of them haven’t scored well, You know.”
AUNTYJI: “Your p…”
Ive gotta learn to keep my moth shut…I didn’t let her finish. I went on…AAaaahhh!!
ME: “They are tying for engineering or medical, however I'm not interested in any of the two…”
AUNTYJI: “Wha…”
ME: “…We have loads of arguments on this topic” ( I went on uninterrupted)
MY COUSIN: (With a flabbergasted expression on her face) “She’s talking about your mum and dad-your parents!!!”
ME: “I….Oh….” (Smiling sheepishly…surprise surprise!) “I thought you said friends...I...ummm...erm”
Auntyji was still looking at me as I had completely lost it. I continued to sip on my sherbet which was boiling hot now…may be because of the heat of embarrassment I was exuding. My cousin kindly reminds me of this day every time she comes to visit.
Well…cant help it! Life’s like that! It pushes ya in the mud and then pulls ya up and laugh right back at you. They key is to get back up and laugh with it! And laugh louder if possible. (Actually…that’s what friends do…but I had nothing else to describe it... but you get my point….i hope....heheh)
Well I have another very embarrassing anecdote to share with you people. That one takes the cake…I swear! And for that you’ll have to wait until my next post…next week! [I bet you can’t wait! ;o)]
See ya!!!
{Typical….rite??? I think so too…..}
First time...here goes!
Ohkay...
My first thought here...."What am i supposed to write"?. Seriously...there isnt anything in my life people would actually take pains to know about. I’m like every other teenage girl. Well...except im nt too girly...i dnt shriek when i break a nail (tht is a topic i will stay away frm), i dnt put on make up (eww!), I dnt own a pair of high heels ( Ouch!), i repeat my dresses so often that people can actually predict what im wearing the next day...nt because i dnt own many dresses (boy! you shuld take a look at my wardrobe!) i just feel appearance doesn't count a lot in everyday life! Fourtunately or UNfortunately...people dont think the same way i do...! Sheeeesh !
(This is one of the many 'phrases' i use to show my discontent/irritation/helplessness/sumtimes used to fill in empty space! Note:Emotional meaning of Sheeeesh © changes according to my mood...pls keep track...heheh)
So...where was i?? oh yeah...
We all differ in opinion. Some of you may like my attitude, some of you may not...some of you may like my blog...(you do!!?Yay!) some(most...? )of you may not. This difference in opinion brings about the most interesting situations in life! A steaming mug of chicken noodle soup reminds me of one such incident...
'Chicken soup for the soul' and its other series are few of my favorite books. I was reading 'Chicken soup for the teenage soup III' when my grandfather (a staunch vegetarian) walked in...
Granpa: (flinches) :"Chicken soup....?"
Me:( hardly looking up):"...umm hmm...fr the teenage soul III"
Grandpa: "Why chicken soup?"
(to my annoyance, he sits down...this is gonna be one long conversation...i think)
Me:(still not looking up) I dnt knw baba!(thts wat i call him)".
Grandpa: (Smiling gently ,knowing that he has brought up an interesting topic to irritate his grand-daughter-my gran'pa is a retired lawyer...) "You are reading that book...you should know why its titled it that way!".
Me:(sighing...looking up): "Chicken soup...is supposed to be a quick, home-made meal or remedy given to sick people...( i knew i wasnt making any sense....i quickly added....) u knw for sore throats, fever...etc etc...This however(pointing at the book) is supposed to be a remedy for a sore soul..."(i finished quite lamely, but quite impressed with myself)
Grandpa: "Really? I dont eat chicken...tomato soup or for that matter even daal ka paani (An indian name for the leftover water, while cooking pulses-If translated it literally means-‘pulse water’. its supposed to be very nutritious and very healthy…Dunno wat its called else where…) works for me. Why is it titled 'Chicken soup'!?"
Me:(sniggering) “Yah, right! ‘Daal ka paani for the soul....' Catchy…”
Grandpa: “What is it about?”
Me: (Replying after a deep thought….) “Well…it’s a compilation of true stories of what people go through so that maybe they can help the reader in some way or the other…just like chicken soup helps the body”
Grandpa: (un-convinced) “ So…has it helped you?”
[Ohkay…he got me here…I love reading peoples experiences, but ive never used them for my benefit…not because I didn’t want to, but because I never think about such things-there isn’t much time to think who-did-what-in-what kind-of-situation]
Me: (Thinking fast…) “Well…it kind of inspires me to think of the unthinkable…”
Grandpa: (cutting me off)”Really….and what unthinkable have you thought of lately??”(laughing at his own joke)…
Me: “Will you let me finish? I mean these people have gone through a lot…be it parent’s divorce or death of a loved one or cancer…they still believe in living for the present. People have undergone depression, anorexia, confidence related problems and they have written about how they’ve overcome it…It gives a reason why a person should...should.... ‘Live-strong’…(i addaed quickly with half a glance to the yellow band on my wrist)”
Grandpa: “Live-strong…eh?”
Me: “Mmmm hmmm…”(Sighing with relief)
[After ten minutes of silence”]
Grandpa: “I still dnt knw where ‘Chicken Soup’ comes to play….Its still tomato for me!”
Me: “BABA.....”
Sheeeesh!
My first thought here...."What am i supposed to write"?. Seriously...there isnt anything in my life people would actually take pains to know about. I’m like every other teenage girl. Well...except im nt too girly...i dnt shriek when i break a nail (tht is a topic i will stay away frm), i dnt put on make up (eww!), I dnt own a pair of high heels ( Ouch!), i repeat my dresses so often that people can actually predict what im wearing the next day...nt because i dnt own many dresses (boy! you shuld take a look at my wardrobe!) i just feel appearance doesn't count a lot in everyday life! Fourtunately or UNfortunately...people dont think the same way i do...! Sheeeesh !
(This is one of the many 'phrases' i use to show my discontent/irritation/helplessness/sumtimes used to fill in empty space! Note:Emotional meaning of Sheeeesh © changes according to my mood...pls keep track...heheh)
So...where was i?? oh yeah...
We all differ in opinion. Some of you may like my attitude, some of you may not...some of you may like my blog...(you do!!?Yay!) some(most...? )of you may not. This difference in opinion brings about the most interesting situations in life! A steaming mug of chicken noodle soup reminds me of one such incident...
'Chicken soup for the soul' and its other series are few of my favorite books. I was reading 'Chicken soup for the teenage soup III' when my grandfather (a staunch vegetarian) walked in...
Granpa: (flinches) :"Chicken soup....?"
Me:( hardly looking up):"...umm hmm...fr the teenage soul III"
Grandpa: "Why chicken soup?"
(to my annoyance, he sits down...this is gonna be one long conversation...i think)
Me:(still not looking up) I dnt knw baba!(thts wat i call him)".
Grandpa: (Smiling gently ,knowing that he has brought up an interesting topic to irritate his grand-daughter-my gran'pa is a retired lawyer...) "You are reading that book...you should know why its titled it that way!".
Me:(sighing...looking up): "Chicken soup...is supposed to be a quick, home-made meal or remedy given to sick people...( i knew i wasnt making any sense....i quickly added....) u knw for sore throats, fever...etc etc...This however(pointing at the book) is supposed to be a remedy for a sore soul..."(i finished quite lamely, but quite impressed with myself)
Grandpa: "Really? I dont eat chicken...tomato soup or for that matter even daal ka paani (An indian name for the leftover water, while cooking pulses-If translated it literally means-‘pulse water’. its supposed to be very nutritious and very healthy…Dunno wat its called else where…) works for me. Why is it titled 'Chicken soup'!?"
Me:(sniggering) “Yah, right! ‘Daal ka paani for the soul....' Catchy…”
Grandpa: “What is it about?”
Me: (Replying after a deep thought….) “Well…it’s a compilation of true stories of what people go through so that maybe they can help the reader in some way or the other…just like chicken soup helps the body”
Grandpa: (un-convinced) “ So…has it helped you?”
[Ohkay…he got me here…I love reading peoples experiences, but ive never used them for my benefit…not because I didn’t want to, but because I never think about such things-there isn’t much time to think who-did-what-in-what kind-of-situation]
Me: (Thinking fast…) “Well…it kind of inspires me to think of the unthinkable…”
Grandpa: (cutting me off)”Really….and what unthinkable have you thought of lately??”(laughing at his own joke)…
Me: “Will you let me finish? I mean these people have gone through a lot…be it parent’s divorce or death of a loved one or cancer…they still believe in living for the present. People have undergone depression, anorexia, confidence related problems and they have written about how they’ve overcome it…It gives a reason why a person should...should.... ‘Live-strong’…(i addaed quickly with half a glance to the yellow band on my wrist)”
Grandpa: “Live-strong…eh?”
Me: “Mmmm hmmm…”(Sighing with relief)
[After ten minutes of silence”]
Grandpa: “I still dnt knw where ‘Chicken Soup’ comes to play….Its still tomato for me!”
Me: “BABA.....”
Sheeeesh!
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