Tuesday, July 29, 2008
[So why am I typing this out? Because, I do not have the facility to either scan what I wrote on paper or make a digital copy of my handwriting and upload it (which equally sucks).]
I am listening to Robbie Williams' "To be a better man" over and over again. A dear friend once sent it to me. I'm missing him so much, but at the moment, I'm not in the mood to get back in touch (there goes a rhyme). Some terrible disagreements have put me off that person so much that I'm sure I'll never have the same respect for him again. Yet, I suspect there will be a time when we will be chatting up about Life, the Universe, and (maybe not) Everything just like old times.
Deez once said to me---and I'll never forget this---each one of us is equally capable of making horrible mistakes in life. For some reason, I can't accept this truth about the friend I mentioned earlier. I mean, anything, but what he did! Maybe it was my foolish illusion that he was very much like me, and would never do what he did. Besides, I was constantly pointing out to him where he was going wrong. Yet, he consciously chose to do it.
Despite all that, I've got to pick up the pieces of our broken friendship and put them together. It may not look as beautiful as it once was, but the cracks will serve as a reminder of what it has been through, and hopefully, as a reminder to him not to repeat that particular mistake.
To summarize: it is a well-known fact that those people who must want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it. To summarize the summary: anyone who is capable of getting themselves made President should on no account be allowed to do the job. [I'd like to mention here---and I am in no position to speak of the past Presidents---that I do not think this holds true about APJ Abdul Kalam] To summarize the summary of the summary: people are a problem.
And so this is the situation we find: a succession of Galactic Presidents who so much enjoy the fun and palaver of being in power that they very rarely notice that they're not. [It's sad that Abdul Kalam was probably aware of this fact, but did his job anyway. If only people would listen to him.]
And someone in the shadows behind them---who?
Who can possibly rule if no one who wants to do it can be allowed to?
[THE Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Chapter 28]
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Hibiscus was saved with some insecticide-laced fertilizer, but the others had to be buried... er... uprooted and forgotten. We couldn't stand having an empty planting pot at home, and we also thought the balcony seemed to be a little too big for the very few plants we currently have. So the sweet hubs took me along (I drove, of course) to refill the empty pot and buy a couple more.
So now we have...
We also noticed that the plant droppings (yes, that's what they are) in between the pots were growing by the day, and it was becoming more and more messy to clean up. Besides, we had the clotheslines right overhead, which made it difficult to hang the clothes, and would sometimes threaten the erection (pun unintended :P) of the plants (when the clothes flew off and landed on them, of course). So we moved the little darlings from their old positions, so that now they huddle together...
I'm all set for the next few weeks. We ended up paying way too much: the hubs obviously did not ask the gardener what he would charge prior to plonking him on the bike and bringing him home. And now, he threatens to throw me and my precious plants outta the balcony if I don't take care of them.
Here's what I will be found doing for quite some time to come:
- Water everyday
- Loosen soil every week
- Add fertilizer / pesticide every fortnight
- Clean the droppings as often as possible (or the stink will be a bonus during the monsoons)
- Repeat steps 1 through 4 as long as the plants live or I do.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
He then asked me if I wanted a tool... I interrupted saying that I don't want any Feed/Reader kind of thing as I know the URLs of all the blogs I like by-heart, and most of them are anyway in my blogroll. He went on to explain that it was an HTML reader and displayed images and videos properly and made you feel as if you were reading the actual blog. It had good search capabilities, and blah, blah, blah. He lost me some where in between, because my train of thought was going this way: Visiting people's blogs is like visiting their homes and listening to them over a cup of chai/coffee. Using a Feed/Reader seems like you've installed a camera in their home and are trying to get a sneak-peak / reality show out of them.
Sorry, that may sound really cynical, but that's what I thought. Now, if I had no access to blogs from the workplace, I would happily use other tools to read posts from my favorite bloggers. But, when I have the freedom of visiting their space and communicating through direct comments, why wouldn't I rather do that? It's so much more personal, innit?
Friday, July 18, 2008
He's a sweet, silent little kid when I'm reading to him, except for the occasional bursts of excitement at understanding the plot or the concept being read. It's me who finds it difficult to concentrate while he lies there peacefully, his breathing soft, his eyes focused on me (as if lip-reading rather than hearing) or sometimes closed. How can someone be so big, yet so much like a baby? And he seems so edible, his arm in particular, I want to bite and eat him up as if he were a cup cake. He is so fair and smooth skinned, it's easy to confuse him for a marshmallow. Hee-hee. And the unromantic bugger keeps prodding me to read on. Sigh!
So I was nibbling on him yesterday, when he said innocently as he always does "Mujhe mat khao, please?!"
To which I complained, "But you're so darn edible. And yummy. And mine. Why should I resist that?"
He promptly pushed a little finger into his nose, brought out whatever little he could excavate, and thrusted it threateningly close to my face. "There, eat this. It's edible (we all ate it as children), salty, and yummy."
I hurriedly pushed his snot-adorned finger into his bedsheet, turned back to the page I was at, and continued reading loudly, as if to erase the horrible memory that thankfully-never-came-to-be.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Overall, you scored as follows:
12% scored higher (more nerdy), 0% scored the same, and 88% scored lower (less nerdy).
What does this mean? Your nerdiness is: High-Level Nerd. You are definitely MIT material, apply now!!!.
NerdTests.com has items exclusively for the True Nerd, click here to view.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Me: I'm so ugly and such a big bully. How do you put up with me?
Hubby (very smartly avoiding the ugly part, which I look at as a simply blatant acceptance of the truth): Why are you such a big bully?
Me: That's not an answer to my question. I am a bully. Why do you put up with me?
Hubby (some gibberish, followed by): Let's continue reading A Brief History of Time like from where we left off last week?
Me (completely stoned by sudden change of topic and falling for it): Okay. Chapter 5: Elementary Particles and The Forces of Nature...
Me (to self): Wait a minute, did he fool me again? Sigh! Fair enough. I bully him, he fools me in turn to think everything is well with the world. No wonder I'm so twisted and confused.