Thursday, February 26, 2009

Belated wishes for a long-lost friend

Almost a week ago, on Feb 21st, me and hubby happened to go out and have chhole-bhature. While waiting for the food to arrive, I narrated to him the story of my school lunch times.

I had a friend named Jasmine, who used to bring the world's most amazing puri-bhaaji in her tiffin. She used to like the pohe mom sent along in my tiffin. So, when this combination occurred, we used to simply switch tiffins and gobble up the goodies.

Although we were part of a 20-strong gang of girls from our division, Jasmine and I always had lunch by ourselves--for all the 3 years that we shared our school life. I think we gravitated towards each other because we had both transferred to Mt. Carmel from other schools. During the last year though, her ex-schoolmate Gita (now Carmeltie) used to join us. I was sometimes jealous because of their comfort level with each other ;-)

Anyway, the point is, I thought about Jasmine after a long time on Feb 21st, which was her birthday. I realized this coincidence only a few days later. Somehow I do remember her birthday, and although I haven't met her in years, every time I pass by the area where she lived, I feel tempted to go check whether I can trace her back.

Dear Jassi, wherever you are, I wish you a very happy birthday and a fun-filled life. Lotsa love.

Friday, February 20, 2009

I overdid it

I have a habit of underplaying issues--mostly at work, I'd like to think. The past two weeks have been crazy: I'm supposed to document changes made to a product in its first patch, and I have to collect information from a lot of people. The trap? Nobody seems to be quite sure of what they're doing or saying! I have been chasing people, literally (shuttling between 3 floors of the office building) and virtually (over emails), but there isn't much coming out of it. It's a sorry situation and in some cases totally unacceptable--developers and QA not verifying the material I have written, and giving me a sign-off. I keep wondering what is wrong with people? Why can't they want to do the right thing? How can they agree to deliver half-hearted, shoddy work? Why can't people put more time and efforts into planning, and set aside a buffer for things that go wrong?
Anyway, I think about these issues, put them aside and try to do the best I can with what I have. I've been pushing so many things to the back of my mind that it all comes out in the wrong ways. Last night I cried myself to sleep. I hit the bed but was just not able to transport myself to slumberland. There was a little quarrel I had with hubby in the evening too. So he wasn't trying to cuddle me into sleeping. When he finally held my hand I just couldn't bear it and shed all those tears and snot. I think I slept dreamlessly, but still did not feel rested in the morning.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Fart-(maceut)-ical babble

Last night, I slew a cockroach with a broom. Battered the most disgusting creature on earth to death. A big, ripe, fat roach.

This morning, as I woke up, I noticed another smaller-sized but adult cockroach lying dead on the floor near my side of the bed.

Me: Look! Here's another dead roach!
The hubs: Yes. All your farting must've killed it last night.
Me: Wow! I didn't know my fart was so effective!
The hubs: Of course it is! We should fill it up in aerosol cans and use it as a pesticide.
Me (thinking to myself): Imagine how many millions of dollars the pharmaceutical companies will pay for my fart! I should patent this killer production mechanism. What a great way to kill your enemy... with your own fart! Ha-ha! Plus, it's eco-friendly, like kangaroos, I guess!

A little googling also told me that it's good for my blood pressure.

PS: You've been warned.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

The way we're bloody brought up

What the wife does:
- Wakes up early in the morning and cleans up the mess she and anyone else has left behind
- Prepares breakfast (6 months into the marriage and she's still trying)
- Lovingly wakes up the husband instead of jolting him from his sweet slumber
- Feeds him the breakfast while gobbling it up herself because she's a slow eater anyway
- Drives him to the bus stop 2 kilometers away because he won't wake up early enough to catch the bus that passes nearby
- Comes back home and finishes the necessary chores before leaving for office

What the husband does:
- Wakes up just a few minutes before it's time for him to leave for / begin work (consistent habit irrespective of marital status)
- Doesn't even bother to fold and put back his bedsheets
- Finds and issue with the work at hand and starts becoming irritable

What the wife does (in the meanwhile):
- Wakes up and gets ready (two years into the marriage and she's already given up on the breakfast and most other things)
- Tries to hug and kiss him from behind his comfy chair and gets a "don't disturb me" thrown at her... when all she wanted was a goodbye before she left for work

What the husband does:
- Comes around to pacify the disappointed wife, but she says something about leaving her alone and him going back to his favorite task
- Actually goes back to his favorite task after throwing a "fuck off" at her
- Then he is seen sulking on the bed because of some problem caused by some third party which affected them both because of his attitude

What the wife does:
- Bangs the door and leaves in her car
- Stops a few paces from home and simply listens to the radio wondering what went wrong and how many times this scene will be repeated
- Since there's not much she can do alone to improve the situation, she sighs and heads to work hoping that she'll forget all about it and continue with her bloody secure life

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Lucky 'levens

February 11 seems to be a day of significance for me or people I like(d).

This day, 14 years ago, I met my first boyfriend (whom I totally disliked then, btw, just like I do now).

Today, I helped ("pushed," to put it in his words) my lovely hubby earn 11 grand before 11 am on the National Stock Exchange :D (and I'm still gloating about it)!

This is also the day when The Redneck Mommy is going to meet her new son for the very first time. I'm soooooooooo happy for her and Boo, Fric, and Frac. Congratulations, you beautiful people!

Pssst! And guess what? This is my 111th post :D I'll be grinning for the rest of the day. She'll understand why.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

The witness

A fun conversation from How Long Till My Soul Gets It Right by Robert M. Alter and Jane Alter (Yes, that's my current dig. Apart from Through Time Into Healing by Dr. Brian L. Weiss.)...

"I had so many thoughts, feelings, and scenarios playing through my mind during meditation that I couldn't meditate at all."
"How do you know you had all those thoughts, feelings, and scenarios playing through your mind?"
"What do you mean?"
"Who knows, and is able to report to me, that you had all those thoughts, feelings, and scenarios playing through your mind?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Are you confused right now?"
"How do you know you're confused? Who knows that you're confused?"
"I do."
"You know that you're confused?"
"And who's reporting it to me?"
"I am."
"And what are you reporting that you know?"
"That I'm confused."
"Who's 'I'?"
"I am."
"And you're confused?"
"I thought you just said you're the one who knows that you're confused."
"I do."
"Well, which is it? Are you the one who's confused or are you the one who knows he's confused?"
"I am confused, but I also know that I'm confused."
"Then you're two beings. You're what you are, which right now is confused, and you're also something inside that seems to know what you are, and that knower is not confused."

Of course, the response was: "Now I'm really confused." But the point is the previous statement. So perfectly put!

Also, as I was typing this, the conversation somehow reminded me of the twisted yet amazingly simple style of Joseph Heller in Catch 22. Not that the books are comparable. Just the way he presents his scenes from every character's perspective. I couldn't complete that book in one go. I guess I picked it at the wrong time--when I was busy preparing for my wedding, and during all the train travel involved. But, another try shall be made some day.

My heroes - II

Aren't they yummy? I'm yet to see mischief better depicted in a person's eyes ;-) They're sooooooooooo perfect for Fred and George! I really wish I had known people like these characters in real life. Nicked the pic from here. Try your luck here; the site isn't working for me at the moment.

My heroes - I

This is why I love Calvin: "Actually, I've got the same questions about God."

And my hubby is EXACTLY LIKE HOBBES in the rightmost block on the center strip: "See? See why you are on the 'bad' list? Insults!."
Bloody ass. He does the same... only quietly, during one of this many talking-to-himself phases. Hmph!

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

Phone abuse and gender bias

I saw a couple of missed calls from an unknown number on my cellphone last evening. When I tried calling back, the number was busy, so I didn't try again.

This morning, the person calls me again and I realize it only after I see two missed calls. So I call back and he picks up at the second attempt.

Here's how it went...
Me: Hello?
Caller: Kaun baat kar raha hai? (Who's speaking?)
Me: Aapne phone kiya, aapko pata hona chahiye. (You've called, you should know.)
Caller: Maine missed call dekha. (I saw a missed call from this number.)
Me: Aapka call aya tha, jo maine return kiya. (You had called earlier and I tried to return the call.)
Caller: Accha, kaun bol rahe hain? (So, who's speaking?)
Me: Aren't you supposed to know that when you are calling a person?
Caller: Theek se sunai nahi de raha hai. (I can't hear you clearly.)
...and he cuts the call.

In a couple more minutes, he calls again...
Me: Hello?
Caller: Kaun baat kar raha hai? (Who's speaking? [Again!])
Me: Arey, aapne phone kiya to aapko pata hona chahiye na ki kisse baat karni hai?! (Dude, you called, you should know whom you wish to speak to.)
Caller: Accha, aap kahan se baat kar rahe hain? (So, where are you speaking from?)
Me: (Too exasperated to continue in Hindi) How does it matter where I am? You've called, you should state your identity and purpose before you say anything.
Caller: Teri choot marunga. (I'll fuck you. [Or something to that effect, or worse, I didn't care to imagine.])
Me: (Previously half-asleep, now too dazed to continue) Bloody asshole! Fuck off!!
...and this time I cut the call.

What I should have said occurred to me a few minutes later: "Kyu, teri maa ki khaali nahi hai kya? Jahan se aaye ho, wahin waapas chale jao to accha rahega! (Why? Isn't your mother's [vagina] available? It'll be better if you go back to where you came from!)"

What pisses me off is the first abuse that comes to mind is that of a woman's genitals. Which should ideally be held sacred by one and all because they are the very gates through which such bastards enter this world. And why aren't men's genitals ever abused like this? Because we women don't stoop to such levels. (Most) men are nutjobs!

I had checked last evening itself and am pretty sure I had not dialed his number even by mistake. My phone keypad is usually locked to prevent such things. This conversation should have ended with an apology on his behalf and an "it's alright" on mine, if he accepted that it was a genuine mistake. Or, a simple "bewakoof" from his side, which would have resulted in me calling him an idiot, and that would be the last exchange between us.

What he did simply proved his worthlessness as a human being.

Tuesday, February 03, 2009


...was aired this evening
...four years after first hearing about the film, yearning to watch it, and not being able to
...this very evening!!

This is either the best example of mixed signals that the universe throws at us, or probably the most clear signal I've ever received.

'Nuff said!

Amusing relationships

Letter from an over-possessive, micro-brained girlfriend-soon-to-be-wife (character 1) of a boy (character 2) his virtual-ex-girlfriend (character 3) who mistakenly thought they were soulmates (they probably were, during an earlier lifetime, but not for this one):

Hi [name of character 3 in small-case],
how are u ?
anyways It's a pleasure to share with you all that I am tying the nuptial knot on [date of character 2's doomsday].with [name of character 2 in all-CAPS]
i m not inviting you just informing you.
n we both don't wanna see you again in our life so plzzzzzz....................
n i think u will understand wat i want to say
thanks n good bye
[name of character 1 in all-CAPS]

...verbatim, excluding real names for obvious reasons.

Okay, if you could tear your eyes off the glaring mistakes (or shall I say ignorance) in punctuation and grammar for a minute, did anyone of you notice the mention of doomsday? I hope that said moron (I'm wondering whether it's character 1, or character 2, or both) realizes what (s)he is getting into, but can never really get out of it. Also, do you think women's liberation is finally here? (Not that I give a rat's arse either way.) I mean, the babe writing on behalf of the guy that they "both don't wanna see" character 3 again in their life! Congratulations to them both. For a sloppily ever after ;-)

Monday, February 02, 2009

Lesson of the day - I

This morning, as I switched on my workstation, I failed to notice that the keyboard was kept on the table as opposed to the keyboard trolley where it is normally placed. I went to the pantry to fetch some water, and when I got back, I noticed the logon screen. As I pulled out the trolley to type in my credentials, I noticed that the keyboard was not in there, but above it, where it should have caught my eye. My immediate thoughts were: "Who the hell left it up here? Must have been the cleaning guys. Nutjobs. Can't even remember to put things back in place."

Then, as I typed in the credentials and the default startup applications were busy loading, it occurred to me that the keyboard was there for a reason--to remind me that I need to login before heading out to fill my water bottle, so that by the time I come back, the computer is ready to take my commands. Drat! There goes my chance of being a private detective. I could not even detect a bloody misplaced keyboard.