A Random Bit of December

It was a squeeze, but I JUST managed to finish everything on time. Did I stay up till 5.30 in the morning trying to finish the assignments? Was I so dead sleepy in college that I fell asleep while walking to the main gate and had to be picked up and slapped by grumbling friends? Did I have to refuse to go party that night for fear of dying from exhaustion? Why, of course not. *disapproving look*

This 13th hour thing. It's a disease.

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You know how when you're lying down and talking to someone who's sitting up, their chin looks like a nose? And their lower lip looks like an upperlip, and their upper lip looks like a lower lip? And its like there's a face on the bottom half of their real face upside down? And you cant concentrate on what they're saying to you because you're too busy laughing hysterically at the whole charade? No?
Snum does. Thank god I found Snum.
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Message Snum sent me today evening: I am not talking to you ever again. I dislike you immensely. You should go jump off the nearest pole. Climb it... then jump off it.

The reason: I know not. Minor, I'm sure.

Despite these small glitches, Snum and I are best friends.
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I was felicitated. Or as they said "facilitated". For topping the class last sem. (Woo hoo! :)) Nice function it was. Parents were mighty impressed with the state of the art audi and lights and effects and campus and all. Full vaaaav! they were.
But very disappointing was the voucher. From Titan eye+.
Five hundred rupees off on Titan Eye+ goods.
Blah. I know.
Wait there's more.
You only get the discount on purchasing items for Rs 2000 or more.
Talk about crazy. And wait...
No discount on accessories and all. No cool sunglasses, watches and all that.
Only eye glasses :|
So if you dont have power, first develop power (by March 2008, when coupon will expire), then spend Rs 2000 and avail your 500 rupees off discount.

What did you get for topping, MM? Oooo, a chance to spend 1500 bucks from my own pocket, for a pair of glasses I just don't need!
Vaav!

Me, Monkeychild and Other MM had nice time complaining, and taking crazy photos.
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No Birds only in Birds park today. I consider it improvement.
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I notice I am talking very colloquially. Or as gormless lady pronounces it, collokwially.
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Gormless Lady didnt give attendance for this felicitation thing. What the hell.

Also, she says
MoreEVER for MoreOVER

and she says it a lot.

And during attendance she calls out numbers 11 71, 11 72, 11 75 as
"Len senty vun...
Len senty to...
Len senty-fy..."

More reasons why she should be burned at the stake.
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I am for some reason reminded of my seventh standard maths teacher... one of the many we had that year. She had big teeth and she sat on the table not at it. We hated her.
One of her particularly famous dialogues: "Either you will simplify, or I will make you to simplyFLY out of the class."
:|
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Have you seen that video of the baby laughing everytime it tears a sheet of paper? :D
I've been laughing like that a lot lately, its so much fun, and its doing me a world of good.
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Simply

My blog needs to show some signs of life at least. Hence this post. I shall write whatever comes to my head, and hope it will be entertaining enough. Given my very blah state of mind, I doubt it will be.
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Okay, so psych fest over. Here is photo of II FEP. There SHOULD have bin prize for that 15 minutes to fame thing ya. What was the point of all that hard work, seriously.
It was fun though, anyway.
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What else? I got new haircut. Except for the fact that most of the time 90% of my vision is obscured, I like it.
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Jay, Tenzen and Brat's birthdays happening. Happy Birthday y'all. Brat has to give treat.
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Osh and Snum find the quaintest places to shop.... Lovely boutique that was. Very nice I liked. Stuffed our faces today, we did. After very strange but fun DC with classmates at hookahplace.
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Paddington Bear made appearance today. He amuses me, cute thing.
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Niece and nephews came over recently. I like kids. They take your mind off things. Make you feel happy. If nothing works out, I'll become kintergarten teacher.
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Frizzy Haired Arrogance (hereby refered to as FHA) incurred much wrath amongst second years today. I dont even want to talk about it.
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Very many assignments due on Monday. Very many other things to do before Monday. Here I am writing pointless blogpost.
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How cold it is.

Catching the Bus- Goa

Suffering Succotash! As Lalitha said.

I am such a lazy bum. Lazy I tell you. Goa was a blast. So much fun. And I'm too comatose to write about it all. Or even upload pics on Facebook so that long suffering friends can see them.
Even now my fingers are dragging themselves across the keyboard in mild protest at the labour they're being put through.

Anyway since this post is supposed to be about Goa, I'll get on with it.

We almost missed the bus to Goa in the first place. Yeah.
Bus leaves at 7.30pm. We're stuck in traffic and its effing seven forty.
I'm convinced we've missed it and am hyperventilating.
Snum's trying to calm me down on the way to the bus station ("Ay those buses no... they're always half an hour late... minimum.")
Osho's already mildy motion sick (minus the throwing up).

We're coming up with Plan B's ("Okay okay... What we'll do is, we'll camp out at Osh's hostel for the next five days. Okay? We'll like, get fake tans, take some rigged photos, buy a coupla Goa T shirts and just say we went. That way our parents wont kill us, and we'll go on to lead the lives we were otherwise meant to. Okay? Fine? Cool.")

We get to Majestic. Late. I bound into the station with my luggage, almost breaking my arm in the process. Osh and Snum follow. I frantically sidestep sewage, asking people in Kannada where platform number 1A is. (I love being the competent one among us who knows the local language. Ha ha. Didnt like it a bit when it all that reversed in Goa where we'd to communicate in Hindi.)

They point somewhere, we look.
It's the platform farthest away from us. (Well, obviously.)
And there's a big AC bus just leaving from it.

"Thats the one Osh! Thats the bus!" I scream.
I feel a whoosh of air against me as Osho ROCKETS past, all motion sickness vanished, her strolley thundering after her. Snum gives me an amused look and sprints off after her. I totter forward at a slower pace. I figure they'll make the bus wait anyway.
I lose track of them. Couple minutes later, I spot them standing near the platform. Their expressions are unfathomable.
Was that a smile? Or a grimace?
Will the next five days be Galavanting in Goa or Hiding in Hostel?

Turns out they were just catching their breath. Too busy panting to look happy or relieved.
We hadnt missed it (Surprise! There's something you didnt expect) In fact, the bus hadnt even arrived at Majestic yet. Snum's bull turned out to be true. This time at least.
All that running around like headless chickens for nothing.

(NB: Yes, I do understand that technically, we didnt "almost miss the bus", but as mentioned earlier, I am currently too lazy a state to think of any other way to refer to it)

We're all Going On A...

We're going to Goa! We're going to Goa! We're going to Goa! *Runs around in circles screaming and waving hands like a mad person*


*Stops*

The three of us for five days.
It is going to be like, so awesome.
*screams excitedly*
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In other news, the English-killing gormless lady's paper is over! Torturous it was, really. Especially because I wasnt well the last night, planned to get up at five and study, ended up waking at 8.45 and having to rush there without having studied a thing, and entered the exam hall 20 minutes late, with a headache. The paper was a mess. Urgh. Came back home and flung my unread notes aside. My mum picked them up in amusement. Couple of minutes later she was in hysterics. She has newfound pity for me when talk to her of my language class woes.
The English notes were incomprehensible. Made absolutely no sense.
But anyway, its over! I wish I could say it was my last, but at least I can say its my last but one. How I will celebrate at the end of fourth semester when I can give the whole darn thing up.
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Also, I just thought I'd mention how unnerving it is when your parents talk about you as if you arent around. Mine do that a lot. In the car especially when we're driving to the occasional function or family get-together. This morning as we're driving to one, they're sitting there and talking.
I mean, just because I'm in the back seat, doesnt mean I've gone completely stone deaf.

"Youngsters these days. Mrs so and so at the lab was telling me how she cant afford to depend on any of the younger crowd for anything. They're married to their phones. The phone is always a priority for them. Always."
"And they're never on time. What's the difficulty in getting there at the time specified?"
"My friend was telling me how her daughter leaves her clothes all about the place. Its the same thing with MM. She just leaves her things where ever she wants to and I have to pick up after her."
"If they'd only look at their watches from time to time, thats all I'm asking."
"If you tell them, they get angry with you. Hypersensitive."

And I just sat there listening in amusement. Maybe they're trying to tell me something.

Nah, that couldnt be it.

Catch Vs. the forest

Infancy and Childhood were two units we had this semester in our Developmental Psychology portions.
Sadly, our teachers didnt have the time, poor things to teach these chapters in class.
So, of course, we ended up having to leaf desperately through our fat text books the night before the exam- in the hope of mugging up the first eleven years of life.
It was quite entertaining.

Did you know that only 20% of 4 year olds can throw well, and only 30% of them can catch?
I laughed out loud when I read that because I remembered the time when I was around that age, maybe a little younger.

Sidetracking:
I can sort out when memories are from, by the length of my hair at the time they happened.
If I remember having almost waist length hair at the time, then it was before I was four, before we moved out of Bellsize Park to the house on Foxlees.
Short, shoulder length hair, and it was just after we'd moved. (I still cant believe how my mum and the Chinese hairdresser tricked me into that.)
Shorter hair still, and an irritating fringe that got into my eyes, was my fifth birthday and beyond.
And two inches below the shoulder again was when I was late seven-ish.
End of sidetrack.

So anyway my dad over the weekend would suddenly say, "Come on MM, lets play some Catch!"

I didnt want to hurt his feelings or anything, but quite frankly, I preferred my stuffed toys. And my dolls, Laura and Minnie (on account of the embroidered mouse on her dress).

According to my books, children begin pretend play in Middle Childhood (6 to 11 yrs), but I seemed to have gotten a headstart.
Since my mum had been regaling me with stories from the Ramayana (it was a big fat yellow book she read from), I was quite transfixed with the idea of living in a forest.
So I'd decided Minnie and I were going to be exiled, and we'd picked up our imaginary bows and stridden off into the forest.
Laura was Sita, I thought her too incapable to be saddled with a weapon. And the stuffed monkey I had (well actually it was a Monchichi, darling things, anyone heard of them?) was Hanuman, but he didnt come ino the picture until the end when we all said "Jai Bolo Hanuman ki!", my favourite part of the whole charade. Chicka was his name actually. Chickaboo, to be precise (no stress on any of the syllables). Adventures that monkey's had, ask Snum to tell you about them sometime.

So anyway, the golden deer had just arrived and it was all very exciting and adventurous, and it was about to be the time where we'd all bow down and shout in praise of Chicka.
And suddenly, here was my dad, wanting to play Catch.

These adults must be humoured, god bless them, I'd thought and tottered off in his direction.

Thing is, I was never able to catch the ball. It makes me laugh now when I remember it. Everytime he threw it at me, I'd wildly clamp my arms together like a crocodile, head turned away, eyes screwed shut.
And whenever I threw it, it landed 2 feet away from me, no matter how hard I tried or how angry I was.

My dad kept encouraging me, hoping for the best. But I couldnt do it.
Naturally, being three and all.
I was telling him about it yesterday and we'd a good laugh about those futile attempts we'd made to fine tune my motor skills.

Sooner or later though, he'd let me get back to my imaginary weapons and the gazelle, and I'd gladly scamper off to greener forests.

I was right

I did brillantly.

I keep forgetting, but this sort of thing always happens to me during exams. Always.
I've talked about this before, here and it happened last end semester psych exam as well.

Thankfully I didnt do anything as daft this time. Man, was I glad when it was over though. Just sort of scribbled something for the last answer and hoped for the best.

Now that we've written so many exams in our lifetimes, they dont seem to matter as much as they did before. Sad really, we dont tend to work as hard as we did in our earlier days.

On another note, sometimes it depresses me how useless our course is. Not as much as it does Osh and Jay perhaps, but still sometimes.

And other times it doesnt. Like during the exam, when we were made to sit next to the PCM students. Ha-ha. Good it felt, to smirk at them as they desperately tried to remember formulas and derivations that I dont ever have to attempt to mug up again ever. Tra la la! *joyful jig around the computer table*

Exams and what they do to you

Somehow, somehow, the fact that my exams are less than 24 hours away and I havent opened my books yet isnt scaring the bleeding daylights out of me.
Its very strange.
I'm screwed. I know it. And yet it appears as though I dont care.
Thing is, I think I do, which is why I am trying so desperately to distract myself from the whole situation.

So anyway, very cleverly, I havent been studying. What I have been doing over the last couple days instead is:

1. Seeing the Black Eyed Peas live in concert. Yeah baby. It was awesome. Rained a bit while they were playing Lets Get it Started (which they played at the end... "Les miks it up abid" Will.i.am must've thought) but that just made things funner. He made up an impromptu rap about Bangalore, quite entertaining. He's funny too, really funny. We were pretty close to the stage, so we could see them up close, and Fergie thoroughly impressed me. I never really liked her much before, but she was terrific. She did like, six headstands across the stage as she was singing. And she's 32! What a bod, what a voice. Apl.de.ap had some awesome dance moves as well.
They did do some research on Bangalore and India. Every cheesy lead-in to a song was linked to something Indian. Dont Lie was apparently inspired by Lord Ganesha so he would help them in their relationships (What? I laughed out loud at that). Fergie in a bad Brit accent said that "Britishers' 'av stolen your consept of curry and made i' popular back there" before breaking into London Bridge. She also said that she thought naan bread was Ferigilicious. :|
Taboo kept going on about how Bangalore shuts down at 11.30, but we were going to party the whole ****ing night.
They ended the concert at 10.15pm. Bit disappointing.

2. Watching TV. Several straight hours of it. Having not watched so much TV prior to the current panic period, it came as quite a disappointment. Bored the pants off me. I've got absolutely no decent channels, it seems like. I'm definitely getting Tata Sky.

3. Going to MG for, as it turned out later, no particular reason. Nicehair, Osh and Snum (in the avataar of b-munch) were there, and they kept me nicely entertained. It was quite pleasant actually. Except, of course for it being a collosal waste of time.

4. Going through the usual excitements and disappointments that I have wisely come to expect as part of life.

5. Reading books. I'm reading five different ones now, if you'll include this month's Readers' Digest, and the one I finished this morning- a particularly entertaining PG Wodehouse called Damsel in Distress- do try it if you happen to come across it sometime.

6. Going to Osho's in a panic, to study. Of course, we didnt. Typical. We did eat a lot though. Snum caught a good episode of House. And we panicked together, later on in the day, which was fun.

7. Eating and sleeping. Scary amounts. Snum has told me to stop.


Genius plan if you ask me. I'm going to do brilliantly well in the exams now. Brilliantly well. Oooo I cant wait. :|

The last half of September

A delightful bit of randomness scribbled over the the last two weeks of September.
:| Not.
I dont particularly like these randomness posts with all the lines in the middle. Easy to write of course, but too much like diary entries and horribly boring.
Still, we must keep this blog alive, and I'll do what I must to ensure its survival.
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I noticed when Osh and I went to the slum area on a photography assignment how terribly difficult it can be living somewhere if you dont know the local language.
Very tough to get yourself out of sticky situations if you dont speak the same language everyone else does. And if you do: immediate cameraderie.
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Beauty and the Geek. Or perhaps, as it should have been called, Dolts meet the Socially Dim-witted.
Surprisingly interesting. And educative. I didnt know it was possible for people to be that dumb.
A fan of trashy television, I am.
Hooked.
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Start of angry unwarranted rant, previously shared with Y and Snum
Okay okay. So Hutch is now Vodafone. We get it. For crying out loud. You dont have to play the ad again and again and again. How much did you have to pay Star to have them play ONLY your ad, continuously, the whole day?

It was an effective ad. Played once, I noticed it. Smiled even, at the cute little pug bemused by the changes his doghouse had suddenly undergone. Hummed along with the tune. Noted the change, and carefully stored the piece of information in my head. Hutch now Vodafone. Done.

But then it came on again.
And again.
Once more.
And again after that.
It was like a nightmare I couldnt wake up from.

Once would have been enough every half hour. You didnt have to make flashy signs that played during the course of every programme on Star World, cruelly distracting the viewer from the programme she was so interested in.
And then play the ad with that ghastly tune over and over again between programmes.

Waste of money that. Not to mention bloody irritating. Was that your aim? To infuriate present and potential customers? To insult their intelligence? "Duh, like, guys, I dont think they'll understand unless we play it over and over again, like, 27 million times," is that what you thought? Gah!
End angry rant
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That superlatives application is really cool ya.
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They're out. Our lab journals and anthologies. We didnt do anything until the 13th hour, of course. Lounged about making vague statements about what we were going to do. Yawned and postponed and told people to chill man, there's so much time.
Got into petty but entertaining little fights over who was being bossy and who was just not getting off their asses goddammit! (Not our group, smirk, we just watched eagerly from afar)

So it ended up that a whole lotta of work in three short days was what brought the little things into this world. Sigh. What a feeling when they came out.
They arent perfect though. Not nearly.

If anyone had said that to me at the time I was lugging them back from the printers I'd have socked them squarely on the jaw. But now that ample time has passed and I have had the chance to mellow out slightly, and glance over the fruits of our labours with a less biased eye, I notice there are several terrific blunders. Ah well, I accept them, flaws and all.
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Nobody knows how to use Quark Express. Nobody. Not even the gits over at Print Xpress. If you do, you could open a small shop and earn millions. Go on, I dare you.
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She who said the stuff in the last random thought from here, really takes the biscuit.
She kills the English language. And I dont mean she hands it a glass of juice with sleeping pills in it. I mean she takes a sledge hammer and literally hacks at it till it's screaming with pain and agony, and is begging her to get the hell away and leave it alone.

Some of her worst crimes would be
- always using a kind of tense thats a cross between present continuous and I-dont-know-what-the-hell-else, that I as far as I know, doesnt exist. Eg: "He is going to be having a name, which is going to be Virahamihira."
- writing a whole goddamn text book in despicable English.
Among her latest and less henious crimes are, saying
"ReJUNIate" for "Rejuvinate" and
"Atanomy" for "Anatomy"

It made me want to laugh out loud in class. You should have seen me struggling. Would have been disasterous if I had. Fatal, even, considering how much she adores people from our creamy combo.
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A Temporary Post

. . . to push the older post down, in a feeble attempt to make it look as though this blog isnt dead.

Its not really dead, only in a coma, like that girl in Just Like Heaven.
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Mark Ruffalo. Sigh.
Edward Norton. Sigh. Sigh.
Jay lent me the Hannibal Lector movies. Absorbing. Gross, but captivating. Hannibal was rubbish compared to the other two, I felt. Didnt like Julianne Moore at all.
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The semester has ended. Time flew, it didnt feel like it lasted very long.

Ends of semesters always suck. Always, every time. Its one of the cardinal rules of life.
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This time it sucked even more than usual since I didnt leave with my munches on that trip that sounded all the more exciting because I wasnt going. Oh well. I'd fun this week. What with Osh, gol guppas, rum chocolate, almost midnight Barrista talks with swiss hot chocolate.
And last night almost made up for not going. Eventful twas. Only Osh must learn that 1.50 am is inexcuseably early for bedtime when she's with the munches. Wasnt the moon pretty? It was not what I thought it would be, but then it wasnt really done right. Snum was a doll. Medicating me and all that.
Haha, y'all got ahead in life, while I was left studying, being invaleed and surviving a tornado, but look who ended up discovering uranium in the end! Hah! While the rest of you were stuck with too many kids for your car and adulterous husbands. Oh my munches. I love it when we get together and laugh ourselves silly.
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I did have lots to say. All in good time.
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A Snum Story: Snum and her Bronze Chappals

She wont stop wearing them. She just wont.
Agreed, they were once good looking. But now... now they look very aged.
You can see the shape of her foot imprinted in the soles.
The pretty little bronze squares have fallen off the entire length of the left strap of her right shoe. And the entire length of the right strap of her left shoe. "They're symmentrical!" is Snum's arguement when I point this out to her.
And she continues to wear them despite the fact that her sister is in town, and if she were a little enterprising, she could whack a nice new pair off her.

To add to all of this, the shoe keeps breaking. (Yes, breaking. And she wears them still)
In the most awkward of moments, I will hear her distinctive

"Uh oh"

and will turn around to see one of the shoes in two pieces.

The first time it happened was at the main gate. We were both late for class (Had we gone out for lunch Snum? I think that was it. We arent usually late to college at the same time) ...and it was Borat's class.

So she was all like "Uh oh" and I just stopped in my tracks (almost fell over, gave quite a few people a good laugh) and turned around.
There was the chappal, in two pieces. The left chappal, to be precise.
The top portion of the shoe had almost entirely separated itself from the bottom.

"Whaddawe pant donow?" I asked.
Snum tried shuffling along like that, but it didnt work.
"Ok, I'll just take em off and walk barefoot."

I gaped at her. She doesnt usually come up with effective solutions that quickly. It usually takes her a couple of hours to come up with a suitable solution.

So I was gaping.
She read my expression correctly.

"No tsk. I've done this before. This isnt the first time its happened."
She walked off comfortably, leaving me gaping.

By the time I caught up with her, I'd regained myself and decided I'd try and embarrass her out of wearing these shoes ever again. After I'd tried unsuccessfully to grab the attention of every passer by and draw them towards the shoes in Snum's hand, (Nobody was interested, it was so depressing) I decided I'd help with solving the problem instead of aggravating it further.
"We'll buy super glue from stationary shop uncle... it'll give us something to do in Borat's class."
Snum agreed with the plan and we went up the stairs, Snum squealing every few seconds at how cold the floor was being, horrid thing.

We bought 30 buck glue. And uncle, noticing we were in a bit of a plight gave us free cookies (mmm).
"Ok, you take ma! Free cooky. Take take Ish ok. See this one imported marshmellows. Very good ma. 2 bucks only. See this one lollypop-cum-torch. Imported. Very good. Neksh time you buy ma. Ok bye."

We got upstairs to class and walked in looking repentent. Borat gave us a look and contnued with the attendance. Even he didnt notice the shoes in Snum's hands.

We sat down with Osh and began the process of repair. It took a while because Snum and I were squabbling over the glue.
She opened it, and everything spurted out. In her hair, on my beautful bag, on the bench. Everywhere but on her shoe.

And then Borat, who has finished attendance and doesnt really know what else to do, comes around our bench peeping inquisitively.
"Hay, Whas going gon there?"
"No sir, her shoe broke" I muttered, feebly waving the glue in front of him.
He shook his mustache a little, but said nothing.
(Actually he's become kind of sweet these days. Poor thing I feel sorry for him. All My Sons he did pretty well actually. Yes, yes. I definitely like him now.)

I tried wiping the super glue off my bag but its left a permanent mark. I dont know what happened to Snums hair. I couldnt really be bothered. But she was complaining and cursing a lot, I remember that.
Anyway, the shoes were fixed. For now.

Coupla days later, we're slightly late for Borat's class again. We're racing up the stairs and then there's that tell tale

"Uh oh"

again.

We detoured to the stationery shop. Snum bought the thirty rupee glue again (overflowing her wallet is) and noticing I had a cold, uncle gave me a free pack of tissues. "Here take ma. Free tissue."
That uncle. He has the good wishes of countless students. Good karma's coming at him.

Back to class. Snum's like, between snorts of laughter "Why does this always happen in Borat's hour? He must think we're doing it on purpose."

She spoke too soon. Next it happened was when she was off to Brigades to buy Osho's gift.
"Dang them shoes!" she cursed as she shuffled off to the stationery store.

And yet she was wearing them again yesterday. What will it take to get her to learn, I dont know. At least five times they've broken and been re fixed, each time requiring a 30 rupee super glue packet.
That girl is really daft in the head. Its not like she hasnt GOT other shoes. She just wants to wear these difficult ones. She is a strange little munchkin, very strange. Perhaps one day we will understand her. Perhaps.

And What a Weekend it Was

Happy Birthday Osho our sweet munchy-kin! Yay! Its one memorable 20th.
A budget of 40 bucks!! Su1's amazing.
Snum, it would take forever for me to do what I so confidently earlier said I would.
How about keywords?

Huh? Whats that?
Yes, yes I am brilliant, thanks.

Keywords:
Bottle. Snake. Shudder.
Eardrums. Killed. Hoerrible Makeup. (I can see you laughing Snum, I can see you.)
"Now they know that we wear shoes too!"
Goa, Mangalore.
The garishly yellow godsend.
"Because its illegal"
Desmond Dilema.
Cheese toast. Talk. A small amount of sleep. Breakfast. More talk. A great deal of laughing.
The end.

There how was that?
Pathetic, pathetic, yes I know. Doesnt even remotely descibe it properly. But what can you do?

Oooo and then I had a lovely day spent with Springy stepped. :) Ah, that was fun and should be done more often. :)

A Few Random Thoughts and Rants

A slightly more boring post, but read on, do...
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It's odd how a movie or a book can change your perspective so dramatically for a few days following it. It can alter your mood, change the way you look at things, make you react to something in a completely different way than you otherwise would have, and consequently, affect your life in a very big way.
You need to pick very carefully what you're reading when. Movies, its not so bad- only the really powerful ones affect you. Thats why I just love a good chick flick. Involves you for an hour or two and leave you feeling the same as before, if not more cheerful. No worries about whether they will have an impact on you.
Its scary to think how important every single thing that happens is.
To think what a drastic impact something so small can have on your life, and on other people's lives. As they say,

"For want of a nail the shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.
For want of a horse the rider was lost.
For want of a rider the battle was lost.
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail."
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Isnt it horrible? The Hyderabad bomb incident. Why why why. Why do there have to be these groups of people who are so senseless and desperate they think killing people en masse will help their cause be heard?
And the photos the newspapers had splashed accross the front page. Did you see them?
Horrible, horrible, the whole thing.
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I could never understand why some people made such a fuss about contributing to the "Sponsor a Child" scheme that our class undertook.

Pay a hundred rupees this year, and as a class you can pay for the entire schooling of one poverty stricken child.

Change the course of that one child's life.
Give him a chance to make something of himself.

We all watch the news, we all hear about the suffering thats happening, and wish we could do something about it.
But we cant.
Its all just too much and too impossible, so we forget about t.

But when you have a chance like this, where a mere hundred rupees from your wallet could change the course of a downtrodden person's life, why would anyone complain?

And yet, some people did.
It angered me NO END.

We CANT do stuff alone. You cant help a person in need by yourself, in a big way. You cant sponsor an education. Nobody expects a student to be able to spend 7,200 to help a child in poverty.

But if as a class, you are given the opportunity to help an indivdual in need to get an education- something that will get him through,
if you can alter the outcome of one person's life,
if you can make a difference, help change the world for the better, however slightly,
by contributing 100 rupees,
why in the hell would you complain about it being a waste of money?

A waste? You're giving somebody something they could only dream of achieving on their own. An education that they wouldnt have a chance in hell of getting without any help.
An education is a huge gift.
I felt relieved that I was going to be able to provide something that meaningful to someone who needed it, just by contributing a hundred rupees. And some people were complaining. Evading it.

A hundred is too much they said. Did they think of what that hundred could do? An education! A hundred from us is giving that child a 7200 he couldnt possibly get otherwise, for an education that will get him through life.

Go without two burgers you might have otherwise had, so that somebody in really bad circumstances can get a shot at making something of himself.

Aaargh, I just had to vent that out.

4.9.07- I've just remembered. It was Snum. She was broke poor thing. And I shouted at her and we had a big fight and all. Hee hee. I got confused and thought it was TheQuickOne. Apparently, TheQuickOne was shouting at Snum too. Snum remembers everything.
_____________________________________________________________________

The media has immense power. Immense. Newspapers especially. They feed opinions. They're shaping people. Its funny to think people like me and Jay actually had a say in that. We were forming opinions. Its too scary to even think about. Ugh, I dont want to have to do that everyday as a job. It would get too tiring that I wouldnt have enough energy to care what I write, and then who knows what harm would I be causing!
_____________________________________________________________________

Im extra sensitive today. And by that I dont mean I cried or anything. I mean that things I normally wouldnt break my head over, I am. Things that normally wouldnt make me feel, are. I can tell just by re reading this post. About everything. But a really nice time I had. Thanks to Osh and Nicehair. The breezy restaurant... the awesome food... the relaxing conversation... the lazy shopping... the thrill of a new purchase... the wind in our hair... the pani puri... some good natured cribbing... And to top it all off, a nice long long talk with Bestest that did wonders even though half-finished :)
_____________________________________________________________________

To hell with all those assignments.
_____________________________________________________________________

You know who said these:

***
"Snakes are going to be not having eyes."
"But ma'am, they d..."
"Most of the reptiles are going to be not having eyes. Especially the snakes."

***
"Soma is going to be the one that is going to be a type of plant."

***
"The essence of life live in water is brought to our notice."

***
"Lactic acid cells will enrich the soil and will to be helping the soil, and naturally helping to the mother earth."

(Lactic acid cells? PS comment on this!)

***

She said them I swear! :D
____________________________________________________________________

Ron

Is it just me or did Ron look completely DEAD in the fifth movie?
I mean, did you watch carefully?
I did. *sheepish grin*
And that's what he was-
Dead.
Throughout.

I was carefully watching for a bit of expression or something, but no. Nothing.
It was like he was acting all cool dude. And he's not supposed to be. Not in the fifth book.

Remember that part in the book when they have that important match and Harry's trying to build up Ron's self esteem by recounting to him all the spectacular saves he's made?

And he's like No, Harry in a strangled voice,
That was all a mistake. I fell off my broom in mid air when no one was watching and accidently kicked the quaffle to the far end of the pitch while I was scrambling to get on...
...or something to that effect.
Man that part makes me laugh everytime I read it.

Yeah. Well, Ron-in-the-movie wasnt like that. All goofy.
This Ron had a sort of suppressed look about him. Like he was trying to keep his emotions in check.
Thats it. Right there in the picture.

Nah, well he looks sort of violated in the picture, I cant find one with the exact expression I want, but this one's close enough. Its somewhat similar to the frequent deadpan look he kept regaling us with.

So anyway, the Ron-in-the-movie just wasnt goofy enough.
This Ron was all about the expressionlessness.

"Snape's given us extra homework Ron!" deadpan look

"Your Dad's been attacked by a giant snake Ron!" deadpan look

"Grawp's about to rip my head off Ron!" deadpan look

"Look, we're in the ministry of magic, and there's all the deatheaters, and they're out to get us and, yowch, there's a tentacular brain thingy attached to your head Ron!" deadpan look


Cute, he was though. Im not complaining.

Actually, I dont really remember the movie perfectly. I watched it such a long time ago. But I do remember strongly wishing he'd moved his face about a bit more, and telling Osho and Zz the same. (Jay was just not interested.)
Meanwhile, the reason Im so bad tempered today, is because of these stupid exams which I havent studied for, which have, in addition to being boring, kept me cooped up at home, and which are getting over tomorrow (thank the lord), but which have generally made my life torturous these past couple of days.

One more exam.
And then joy oh joy, college again.

Now

is when I need an amusement park ride.

Right now.

The Sheep

...is the new cow. They're funny. Funnier than cows OR chickens. (That is the plural isnt it? Having friends who eat poultry has shaken my vocabulary.)

"Baaaaaaaa!" Its hilarious I tell you.

Look at it, the daft little thing, staring. You'd expect it to blink dazedly at you any moment, and then look around at its surroundings confusedly. "What are all these words doing here?" it must be thinking.

Even Facebook has realised that throwing sheep appeals to the senses more than cows or donkeys do. (That flying sheep cartoon is so cute no?)

Reminds me, when I was in Year 1 (thats UKG here) I remember there was this one class where we were supposed to write what we wanted to become when we grew up, and draw a picture of it.

I had already decided what my future was to be. I liked drawing, and writing and history class. It would only be natural then, I thought to myself, for me to become a historian who wrote books, and illustrate them myself.
Ghastly idea, but it seemed logical at the time.
All set for the future then, I'd thought to myself. I'd drawn my boring little picture, coloured the book I had supposedly written a bright red for effect, and gone and stood in line to have my work corrected.

In front of me was Shehana, one of my closest friends, but a little younger than the rest of us. We compared pictures. She had drawn a picture not unlike the one of the daft staring sheep above.
"I want to be a lamb." she'd said.

Wow, I'd thought to myself. This kid sure has imagination. I wonder how Ms Cravitz will react to this. Thank God its not Ms Read today.

Shehana's turn came. She proudly handed in her book.
"Shehana, my dear" said Ms Cravitz. "This isnt what I'd asked you to do."

(Ms Read would have said rather harshly "You silly little girl. Go back and do it over again")

"I didnt ask you to draw what you'd like to be, I asked you to draw what you want to be when you grow up." Ms Cravitz explained.

"But I want to be a lamb!" she said.

"You cant be a lamb, my dear. Humans dont become animals, do they? Now tell me. What would you like to be when you're older?"

"Yeah!" I interjected. "What do you want to be when you grow up. When you're older."

Comprehension dawned on Shehana's face.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh." she said. "When Im older." With a triumphant grin, she said

"A Sheep."

Sheep, I tell you. Funny little creatures. Wish there was a cartoon strip about them.

They arent the best animals to count while trying to sleep though, as

Snum and Bestest

have said. Far too distracting. You'll probably end up laughing as the dippy things fall all over each other trying to get over the effing fence.

Shehana was later convinced to become a sweet shopkeeper, when told that she would get free candy on a daily basis.

One of those Mushy Friendship Day Posts you Find on So Many Blogs these days

... but what the hell.

It took me fifty years to write, so I cant NOT put it up now.

Bunk a day of college to catch up on work, and THIS is what I sit and do. Useless I tell you.

So anyway, this is not a post for the faint hearted. Do not embark further if you are pregnant or suffer from high blood pressure. Its mushy, voluminous, confusing, and in places, horribly boring.

Here we go.

A Happy Friendship Day to...

FnA. Ay, you know I love you ya. You're an almost-sister. We're the same. About everything. We laugh at the same silly things. No one knows what the hell is going on when they're with us. We communicate silently. We look. We get.
How we were in those days. How it was with TG and WD and the Conspirator. How we laughed. How it was with the crazy people. How we psuedo bitch about them now.
How we were with the cricket matches. How... gawsh.... how we made our life plans when we were 16.
Constant dilema: "Are we weird? Or is it just everyone else?"
Its us, man. Its us. :)
How we were at "that crucial time". How we decided to give up. How we planned what we'd do, together. How it all ended up.
How we borrow stuff from each other and forget.
How we despised tuition. How we bunked tuition. How we slept at tuition. How we gave up on tuition. How we laugh at tuition. Your birthdays, mine.
How we laugh at inconsequential stuff... your ridiculous jokes, mine, which are a tad better. How we get hysterical. Especially if its midnight.
You read this and asked me to add how I will drop something and then scream at you for being clumsy :D
Its forever you know. We'll be there for each other forever. Words dont do it.

The Champ. You also da. Midnight laughing. You "being angry". Saying funny things. Aiyo-ing about exams. Exclaming at The Other People. 20 years from now, we'll still be laughing at the same things. I can see it, clearly. Remember the cookery competition? Hahaha… and that dog near my house. J I love you for what you are- funny, warm, generous, open. Its the kind of friendship that lasts till you're old.

Archie. Our phone conversations got me through tenth man. Thank God for those 3 hour 4 times a day conversations. What'd I have done without them? There's something about you. You're gonna be really great someday, you know that? Really successful.

Springy-stepped. (Because I know how much you hate bubbly) I love the times we spent together. Lots of times. We were together almost everywhere somehow. And we got on each others nerves a bit, but I still love them... Theatre club, newspaper club, school in general :)
And I love the conversations we have now.

Overseas Friend. I'll never forget the times we spent in 6th. Manda ma'am class. And everything else. :) And I love that we're still in touch.

Tarantula Guy. You're funny. I LOVE the way you say stuff. And you're the only boy I didnt think was snot in seventh standard. Thats a huge compliment.

PS. I love our little chats. And your little narratives. And how you comment here so regularly. I'm NOT a song person okay, for your information :P It takes me a while.
You make me laugh.
Nice times we've had. And more to come :)

Bestest. Need I say anything goose? Need I? Oh alright, seeing as you're being so pushy, but this is going to take forever, let me warn you.
Our clogs, our beautiful clogs. Now tell me they weren't a good idea. Go on, I dare you. I thought of it. You, my goose, were hesitant. IN your face. Hah!
Our amoeba moments. :) Our photos. :) What crazy fun were those? :)
The 4th floor. What a place. What a place.
Your poems, my poems. I know you're thinking supermom. Goose.
Our tempers- what was that all about huh? I PU, gawsh :D The ant. The scrunched up paper.
Our TALKS. About anything that's on our minds. Anything. I love how I can blurt out anything thats in my head, absolutely anything.
Or about nothing. Nothing at all. I love how I can call you and be all blah, you'll be blah, and we'll blah together for hours.
Our geese, donks, blearghs and crappys. (God that sounds weird)
The magazine. The ass. The noah. The stories... the laptop, the poem-on-a-paper... we have to write them all down, before we forget. I think I've forgotten all of them! :(
The animal colour thing. Coffee Day Tissues. Training me to call them tissues and not what I earlier called them. :P
Reading books together.
I love how we're so in touch. I love how you know everything about me.
You remember how we used to share a red pack of Lays everyday?
Anand Bhavan. Harry Potter. Dhokla. Singing in class. Talking in class. Writing conversations in class. Being Caught in class. The Leaf Fuss. The Bubble. :) ;) :)
How Im pretty sure I'll be saying Laaunty a LOT when I'm older.
And thats just the tip of the iceberg.

GS. Serious ray of sunshine. You totally are. You physically brightened every moment of college. Really. Fun, light, goofy, happy, good natured, sunny. Never grouchy like me and la were so often. You were like the "wise person" I went to when I was clueless. You still are actually :) You knew what was going on, while still being the sunny part of the bubble that you were. I could tell you anything, I can tell you anything, and I wont be judged.
Your dress designs. :) I still have the one you made for me. :)
Amoeba people... Teddy Bear, Model... And so many more that I dont even remember now.
I told you everything that was ever bothering me. You helped. You made things fun. You did it with such ease. Everyone adored you. The second you spoke to them. Everyone, including me. You were the buffer. :)
Our serious conversations in the canteen, the bus stop. You opened my eyes :)
Dhokla, ass. Bugs urgh, apple double urgh. Hee hee hee hee. Our stories about pasts.
I am completely myself with you guys. Its like a holiday being around you.
Kee, you're pure golden sunshine.

SH. I remember that first day of college, knowing that you and I were going to be inseparable. I love your patience, your determination, your ability to work. I love how sensible and practical you are. I love how crazy you can get sometimes. But how you were altogther steady, like a rock. You were like the glue.
We loved the way your hair fell in curls at the back. And you hated it. :)
You were calm, steadying, comforting, decided.
A real gem.

Snum. My munchkin dearie! My baby, my awwwww! Thankgodthankgodthankgodthankgod you're here. You're the only one who actually gets my jokes. And vice versa. You're funny munch! We have the same lame sense of humour. We hate the same people. (What me? I dont hate anyone. That would be terrible!) We laugh and laugh and laugh when we're together, wherever we are. You make Borat's class bearable. I LOVE your(my) caricatures. (Mine. Mine. Mine)
I dont think I laugh in the same way with anyone else (Awwwwwww)
I love the mood off sleepovers at your place. (You're like, *eybrow raised*)
I love your place! I could, like, LIVE there. (You're like, uh yeah. Thats happening)
I love your clothes (You're like, hey! Thats not part of who I am! You leave my clothes out of this!)
I love the colour of your eyes! (You're like, Alright alright, stop with the flattery already. Its getting scary. Pause. *With quizzical expression* What do you really want from me?)
Gawsh the stories we make up. Green, Mantis, Hand-in-Air. Nearly peed in my pants, I did.
To sum it all up, I luuuurve you very much, my munch.


Zz. You're this really amazing personality. You really are. I've been fascinated with you ever since those hols when we started talking. You're very different. You think different. I love your poems. Especially the tears aint coming.
I love how we made up Nuards! I love how well they described things. I love how we used them around Snum just to piss her off.
I love how we split spinach canneloni everywhere, but still think sweet chariot's the best.
I love how we listen to the radio together.
I love how much we’d message each other.
I love our "tissue culture". How many of them do you still have?
I love how you're up for anything. I love how sure you are of what you think and wont think twice to make it known.
You're a darling. :)


Osho. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhssssshhhhhhhhho. I love you Osh. You and I are so alike. So alike. What would I do without you in college? WHAT? I can whine to you, and vice versa. I can be blah with you, and vice versa. I can be upset for no reason around you, and vice versa (Snum just does not let me do that :P)
And you'll understand.
I can discuss things with you that I cant with anyone else. What things I'll not say. Hee hee hee. I love how we get freaked out about the same things.
I love how we're both so finicky about similar things.
Ay, I love that new dress you bought. Stunning is an understatement.
I love how we can do Ruby Tuesdays together. Everytime I'm doing something at college, my first thought is "Whats Osh doing?"
I love how we sit and bitch about Jay while he's there.
I love how you deonionise the onion rolls with chicken everytime you buy one.
I love your Oshsays. I love how you think pink is purple. :P
I really love how we think the same so often. I hate it when you dont come to college.
You're my sweetest lil munchkin. Muah muah muah!

Jay. Ushooo, I love you man. (At this particular moment, that is. The way things are going, if you keep excelling at things and being modest about it, Im soon going to have to hate you. I'll start a club and everything. Watch it.)
A breath of fresh air (most of the time).
You laugh at ANYTHING I say (which is what I like best about you, although it can get annoying, when Im not trying to be funny) The funniest thing about you is your TD. And please do something about your hair. Its beginning to look like Borat again.
I love how I can take your case, ALL the time. "We're friends, we CAN be rude to each other. :)" Very sportive you are. I love how I can be silly with you. Because you will invariably be sillier. :)
I love how you let me teach you songs. You're pathetic at it, by the way. Did anyone ever tell you that? You're a slow learner. :P
Nice time we had at the Hellish Place. Bugger, I hate how they liked you more than me.
You're a sweetheart. So many times you've helped me find auto in the rain or when its dark. "Dai, Good job maccha!" *punch on arm*


Tenzen, Other MM, Brat, Kk, Japkid- you make college fun!

Happy Friendship Day (Belated)! Love you all.

Hitmen

These auto drivers are out to get me ya.
I was almost killed this morning. Very almost.
The bugger was applying the brakes HARD every 1/15 th of a second, each time just missing some humunganormous truck or bus that was moving towards us at breakneck speed.
It felt like he was trying to do away with me and make it look like an accident.
The only consolation was, it looked like he was out to kill other people too, not just me.

My constant tsk-ing didnt help.
Even when I said, after one particularly near miss, "NIDHANKKE HOGI DUDE, PARAVAGILLA!" nothing happened.
He just continued to plough through the streets like some reckless maniac charged with excess adrenalin.

I mean I totally dig Action-Thriller-Suspense movies and all that, but I do NOT need that kind of heavy emotion at eight o' clock in the morning, okay?
Especially because Im never completely awake until around ten... I need at least 3 hours after I get up to become Fully Functional And Alert MM.
If you're jerking me awake every 1/15th of a second and giving me small heart attacks every 7 minutes at 8am in the morning, I'm bound to get a little crabby.

And the offences kept piling up...
Yes yes, PUT on the radio why dont you with one hand while driving.
Does it MATTER that the switch is located under your own seat? NOooo, of COURSE not.
Does is MATTER that there's a Tata Sumo careening its way toward us dangerously? NOooo.
Does it MATTER that the volume is on highest and that the passenger (who is in the prime of her youth) is having her poor eardrums mutilated whilst you switch from station to station? NOooo, NOooo, not at all.
You just keep driving on like a blind man, and we'll just wait and see what happens, alright?

The other day on JC Road, this auto driver (particularly smart one I got this time) decides to pick up his phone. In the MIDDLE of that bleeding junction.
AND, seems to think that speaking on it is more important than weaving the auto in between all that HTV.
I mean, usually, auto drivers pay attention to the roads while talking on their phones.
This one totally FORGOT he was even driving.
I understand he might've been talking to his girlfriend or whatever, but dude, first priority should be Keep Self Alive for Her.
A Tarpaulin blue luxury bus the size of a wooly mammoth almost rammed into the left side of the auto, causing me to scream sense to him for the next 15 minutes, as he drove sheepishly on, phone in pocket.

Why do people drive so badly? Do they all want to die? All Im asking for is a little caution here.

The ride ended off with me almost killing the auto guy. Snapped his head off, I did. Who did he think he was, the git... no change he says mutter mutter... ALREADY late for class I am... making me lose attendance... grumble... forcing me to ask random people off the street for change, the lunatic...... almost KILLING me!

So nonchalant he was. How do they do it? Face death voluntarily so regularly? Why do they do it? Is it that difficult to drive responsibly? One of life's greatest mysteries.

10 minutes

Ten minutes is NEVER ten minutes. Ever.
It isnt.
No one actually means it when they say it.
What they actually mean is "In an hour, loser" or "In however long it takes me to get ready, git."
That's what 10 minutes is code for.

Now you know.

Waspishness

There's nothing like a nice tall glass of cold coffee to sooth the nerves is there?
Coffee's good stuff.
Even the annoying wasp that haunts the food court knows it.

Every morning, this particular wasp wakes up with one thought in its mind. "Today I must zwim in that MM girl'z coffee. I abzoluutely muzt. Zzz. "
It hovers patiently near the coffee stall, till its pains are rewarded with my arrival.

No sooner has the cup touched my finger tips, than the wasp attacks, and it just will not leave me alone. Hovers at a very alarming distance of an inch and a half from the fingertips, and buzzes away (literally, not figuratively) as if its life depended on it.

Okay, time for a plan, I think.
Aha! Inertia might shake it off!
I move my hand left and then right (slowly, of course, I'm not stupid).
Nothing.
There it stays, an extention to my hand, moving with it wherever it goes.
I squeal. I blow at it. I stamp my feet angrily.
Nothing.
There it remains.

I shift hands. It shifts hands.
I take a sip, it hovers before my eyes and is very distracting.
I stay still, it ventures closer.
I try handing the cup over to friends in the vicinity, they step away hurriedly.
I give up.

I place the cup on the bench and watch morosely, as the unrelenting wasp pulls off its little charade that it seems to think is so charmingly amusing:

It settles itself comfortaby on the rim of the cup, then walks around the rim, as if to survey the contents.
Once satisfied that the coffee is boiling hot enough, it finds a spot on the rim that it likes, and plunges, head first.
Resurfaces, shakes wings and buzzes contentedly.
Then goes on to swim itself to glory, in my six rupees.

The sight is fascinating, I'll admit. But I'd rather have been drinking the coffee than watching that nasty wasp swim in it.
Zero respect for money, it has. Or for food.

It must be taught a lesson. Soon.

Dads and Shopping Dont Mix

Shopping is really a girl thing. It must have something to do with the whole chromosomal set up. Yes, thats what it is. The gene responsible for enjoying shopping is recessive and is located on the X chromosome. And the allele must be in homozygous condition for the character to manifest itself.

Really. Like, I didnt just make that up.
Its a fact of nature.

Okay, so maybe its not a fact, but for all we know, it could be true. I could win the Nobel prize for this.

The Nobel prize for Bulling. (Its a new category they've introduced, dont you read the papers?)

But that explanation would account for a lot of things. Including why dads shouldnt be taken along while shopping. (Their wallets, however, are welcome)

What the dears say:
1. Do you really need that?
2. Dont you have 15 pairs of the same thing lying on the floor back home?
3. Why do you want to go all the way to the other side of the world to buy something you can get ten minutes away from home?
4. How can you spend so much time looking, and then finally not want to buy anything?
5. Are you done yet? pause Done? pause Now?
6. In moments of inspiration:
No! Dont buy this one! Buy that! pointing to garishly orange coloured item

What they do:
1. Make wild excuses as to why we should be leaving right NOW!
2. Feign stomach-leg -head- back aches.
3. In the words of Snum: Become human clocks.
In robotic tones: "It has been fifteen minutes since we first set foot in this store."
.
.

"Twenty."
4. In the life of Brat: Stand as close to the door as possible in the hope that this will urge you to step out quicker and go to the next shop, thereby considerably shortening the process.
On entering the next store, stand as near to the door as possible, once again ensuring a quick exit.

If you don’t take them along, but excitedly show them your purchases after, they:
1. Gaze at the TV and pretend to listen
2. Yawn indifferently
3. Raise eyebrows high, sit forward and say, “How much now?”
4. Say: "You spent a whole day and this is all you have to show for it?"
5. Say: "Tchha. That? I could’ve gotten that for half the price."

See dads are just not too good at the whole shopping experience. And nobody’s blaming them. Its in their DNA. They should leave shopping to the mums and daughters. Hand them a couple of credit cards and send them off into the world.

Oh, the wonderful joys of small-dosage shopping. Sigh. :)

Hitch

I really liked the movie. Laughed so much. Albert Brennaman is the funniest thing. Especially when he dances. I totally enjoyed it. :D
The dialogue made absolutely no sense whatsoever in some places though.

In the last scene:
Hitch runs after car carrying Sara Melas and Other Guy in it and jumps a-top it.
Hitch (through sunroof): You’ll never be fine, and neither will I!
Sara stops car in shock, Hitch falls on road, Sara gasps.
Other guy: Maybe I should drive.
Sara to Hitch: Are you trying to get yourself killed?
Hitch: If that’s what it takes. (?)
Sara’s sister: Sara what happened?
Sara: He jumped on the car!
Sara’s sister: Why?

Hitch: Because that’s what people do. They leap, and hope to God they can fly. Because otherwise, we just drop like a rock, wondering the whole way down, why in the hell did I jump. But here I am Sara, falling. And there’s only one person that makes me feel like I can fly. And that’s you.

(*Pauses to stare expectantly at you*
Seriously... what??
Did you understand that?
No, tell me. I'm dying to know what he meant.
This dialogue wasnt meant to be dumb.
There are some parts in the movie where the characters are supposed to sound like they have mashed peas for brains. This was not one of them. He hadn’t hit himself on the head or anything in the previous scene, I checked.
There was all this senty music was playing in the background. I watched and listened carefully.
And Sara was all like "Ooo he's saying something really deep and meaningful! I think I'm falling for him!" during the whole bit.)

Sara: So you kinda like me huh?
Hitch: Nah, I love you. I loved you since…
(Kiss)
Sara: If I say it back now it sounds so stupid.
(Sara, sweetie, nothing you could say would sound more stupid than what Hitch told you just now. Go on. Tell him that you love him. Aww.)

Oh well. Despite some of the dialogue-that-doesnt-make-sense, the movie is a complete laugh riot. And that Brennaman guy is absolutely brilliant.

Bums

Snum Zz Osh and Me. You couldnt find a lazier bunch of bums anywhere in the world, I'd be willing to bet my life on it. Each of us had set our mobile alarms, like the responsible undergrad students we are. Each of us, for 7 am.
Morning came. The air was peppered with the sounds of alarm clocks every five minutes.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Groan. Shift. Grunt. Grumble. Snooze.

And repeat.
They rang, we snoozed. They rang, we snoozed. They fell off the bed, we slept on. Nothing could come between us and our sleep. Nothing.

At 9 am I realised we simply HAD to get a move on if we wanted to make it in time for 10 o' clock class. If we could just make it there, like Osh said, we could succumb to the sleep again, in the soporific safety our classroom. We just had to drag ourselves there in time.

We did, by some miracle. Only, class had been cancelled.
:|

People and Pink

Have you noticed how many people dislike pink?
I'd go so far as to say that it has become cool to hate the poor colour.
And what did it ever do to anyone, might I ask?
To say you like pink, is blasphemy. You are automatically an airhead, are mocked at, ridiculed, laughed at, looked down upon.
Poor pink gets pulled up all the time.
No other colour is at the receiving end of such discriminatory behaviour.
Nobody has got beaten up for saying they liked blue, have they now?

What is it with people and pink? Its hilarious the amount of varied reactions you get if you mention that you like the colour.

"Pink???" accompanied by shocked expressions and wrinkled noses.
(The part I personally find most irritating. Makes me feel like giving them a good proper flick.)
Its as though even if you do like pink, you MUST, at all costs keep it a secret from the disapproving eyes of society.
Its as though liking pink is dangerous behaviour and must be stomped out immediately.

Another priceless one is:
“Oh.” PAUSE for 5 seconds. “Pink.” (disdainfully)
This usually comes from someone who looks you up and down uncertainly, thinking ‘This must be someone with some weird mental disorder. I had better walk away quickly, just in case it’s contagious.’

Another that is quite amusing to witness:
“P..pink?” (in disbelief)
The owner of the mouth that says it thinks you might perhaps be taking him for a ride.
'Its alright if you like pink, but to say you actually do?', he thinks, 'That just isnt done! Something isn't right'.
His eyes dart around while he is talking to you and he has the air of someone who expects at any second some tv crew with a host to jump out of a nearby tree, and ambush him screaming “You’ve been framed! Ha ha! We've tricked you properly!”

Well, I'm one to fight for the underdog.
Pink deserves a chance! Dont dismiss it off because of Legally Blonde and scary peers who will threaten to beat you up! Dont join in with the wrinkling noses just to be accepted by the majority! If you like it say you do!
And if you dont, refrain from being so judgemental! Dont expect everyone to like the same things you do! Dont make judgements based on silly things!

Let us be accepting of this poor ill-treated colour. Next time someone says they like pink (and they will, after reading this post, I'm sure), just grin and bear it. Accept. And we can make this world a better place to live in.

(wipes tear away silently from left eye)

Hellish Experiences: Randomness

We investigated a tree cutting. Jay and I. Got invited to a house a couple of sites away from the poor tree, when we tried to find out what the public had to say on the issue ("The neighbours no, they have political influences ya. Thats why.") Thought we'd be given tea or something, but they didnt give us any, and they didnt allow us to quote them either. Turns out they were just bored because the power had gone and needed some entertainment.

We got "Ay!"ed at by someone before we left the site of the cutting. I looked straight ahead and walked on, like any sane person would. Not Jay. "Yenu?" he asked in a polite how-may-I-help-you? tone. Goose.
He got stuck there for a bit, while I hid behind a car.
Kannada or english paper? they asked, when he'd given them full details on who he was.
English, he said. (not smart Jay!), but thankfully, he wasnt beaten up or anything.
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We went to the press club several times, attended boring conferences in accha Kannada, not understood a word that was said, and come back and written 400 word articles on them based on the literature. Dont worry, they werent published.
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We interns had a photoshoot. Pose as if in a ragging scene. After at first vehemently refusing to be a rag-ee, I generously consented, (nobody else wanted to be) and me and Jay (he didnt even bother to argue. Knew we'd force him into it anyway) assumed our posts and presumed to look terrified at the rest of the gang even though we were laughing our heads off.
Yes, we werent very good at it. When it came out in the papers it looked as if Su2 was being ragged instead of us.
A job well done.
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We attended this business meet at Park Hotel I think it was. It was to launch this new company that was a joint venture between two spanish companies and two Indian entreprenuers. The representatives from the Spanish companies had thick accents, and lets face it, we dont know a thing about business. Nice lunch though. There was this yum spinach and corn thing we each had 3 helpings of. Ah, the free lunches.
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Ooo, me and Su2 were on TV once!
Wait. Dont get excited, it was only for a few seconds. We'd gone to the press club. Had drunk the coffee that corroded my innards and were watching as a fight ensued between those conducting the meet and some senior reporters. It was fun for a bit watching them shout angrily at each other, but it got boring. So I slept, you know. The way you do in class, head resting on hand. And thats when the camera arrived. Mum said when she saw it, "You were sleeping there???" and was mighty displeased, but I was listening, I swear!
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Hellish Experiences: Interviews

During the course of the Hellish Thing we had to do over the Summer, we interviewed Dino Morea. He was nice. Didnt even once roll his eyes at the foolish questions we threw at him.

Did he like pink clothes?
"Pink's fantastic," he said, unflinchingly.
Until he caught Su2's disgusted expression and stopped abruptly, mid grin.
What is it with people and pink? Really. They should just lay off it.

Would he rather be overdressed or underdressed to an occassion?
"Erm, I dunno, its always better to be properly dressed for any occassion, appropriately so I mean, erm... you know? Anything that fits the situation, scenario... I dont know..." *insert confused floundering look*
I dont blame him though, it was a dumb question.

And what would we catch him dressed in if we broke into his house?
*look of fear and suspicion* Were we planning on doing so?
After we assured him we most certainly would not, that we were respectable "journalists", and there was no way we would stoop to that, even if we got really desperate and unhinged (The profession can push you towards those areas), he condescended to answer.
"Um, you'd find me in bed, man."
That did not answer the question, but we giggled politely and looked expectant.
"Shorts and a T" he said. Or something of that sort, I don't remember now, it was too boring and too long ago.
Again, I dont blame him. I wouldnt have known what to say either. I would not want to be a celebrity, ever.

So those were the three dumbest questions. The rest were things like, Tell us a childhood experience in Bangalore that you cling to, and other such boring likes. He was very sweet (we were "journalists", what do you expect?), plus we were given drinks in fancy glasses and those weird snack like things to eat with tooth picks. Plus, a free bag, and in it a free T. Sadly mine was white and Extra Large. Sigh, you cant have everything.

This other time, Jay and I interviewed Charu Sharma.
You: Who?
You know, the cricket commentator who was co-host of Extraaa Innings with Mandira Bedi.
You: Aaaah.

It was late. Jay wanted to go home. But I ploughed on and said "We must, we must! What an opportunity!" He stood and talked to us for ages. It was only when Jay noticed he was massaging his back and giving us pained expressions, that we decided to stop.
We then proceeded to scour Brigade road for internet cafes so we could send off our article. It was 9pm. They were all closed or under construction or charged you 200 bucks to become a member before you could use their computers. 7 places we visited. I counted. One of them was on the 4th floor and the escalators werent working. Poor Jay, I whined the whole time.
We finally found some iffy looking place that was open, and sent it off.
Jay then sent me off in an auto, and sighed in relief.
"Until tomorrow," he must have thought. "Until tomorrow, I am free from that girl's unbearable banter."
We got a byline, which is good, after all that effort.

We came close to a third interview. We asked Anita Nair at the same book launch that we interviewed Charu Sharma, if she'd let us talk to her, but she swatted us away like flies, so we just buzzed off.

Creative Work

As a wise little boy named Calvin once said, and as Bestest once blogged,

"It's only work when somebody makes you do it."

They're making us write at college now. Creative writing. "Being creative is hard work," they've said.
I agree. Especially if you have to do so between 9 and 11 only, and on saturday mornings. Wish us all luck anyway.
.

A Summery

It feels like decades since last month. Absolute decades. The Hellish thing was, as much as I hate to admit it, a good idea.
No doubt, it completely ruined what would have been 30 days of blissful nothingness (during which time I'd've cribbed non-stop about how useless I was feeling) and no doubt it drastically cut down the number of movies I saw this summer, and no doubt we werent paid a penny for all of our "hard" work, but still. It was a good idea.

I feel I've really learned something. I have grown since April.
Its true. Cheesy choice of words, but there you go.
Plus, there are the articles. All 21 of them. (16 with bylines, 5 without, and three of the 16 front page!!) Thats not bad for a 30 day stint.

At first it was kind of torturous, you know. Having to call up or email or meet people you didnt or vaguely knew, because you needed to get information for an article. But you get used to it towards the end, and kind of begin enjoying it. It became like clockwork.
The people at office were really nice as well.

Overall, twas a good experience.
I'm pretty sure that I shall look back at it in the future and Awww over it annoyingly.
A nice summer :)

Just read it

Thats Anne Hathaway on the right.

I saw her on TV recently, and I was rather shocked. It was only for a brief moment, she was saying something about how she loves Elton John, because it was his birthday, and "you feel only love, for anyone on their birthday", but the clip left me with a nagging feeling.

I get that feeling sometimes when Im trying to figure out what something reminds me of. Its a horrid feeling, just wont go away.
Her face... it resembled something so strongly, I just had to figure out what it was.
And then I realised.

It's startling how much like a mad squirrel she looks.

Really.

I mean, dont get me wrong, I like her pretty much. Princess Diaries, Devil Wears Prada, Other Weird Movie Where There's That Girl From Bend it Like Beckham in it Who's Plays Her Best Friend...
All great.

Its just, the resemblence she has to a tree-dwelling omnivorous manical rodent... its uncanny!

The Mad Squirrel

Did I ever mention the mad squirrel I once encountered?
Well, I was sprawled out on the sofa in the living room one particularly drowsy afternoon, and the curtains were drawn. No one was home and I was just about to fall into a nice little slumber,when I heard a rapping sound. I sat up. The noise would not stop and it was beginning to bother me.

It was a constant, unrelenting loud tapping noise. It seemed to come from somewhere behind the curtains.

Cautiously, I pull them back. And on the other side of the glass, I am faced with a squirrel, who is, staring back at me.

The staring doesnt seem to affect his paw movement though. He can stare and knock at the glass at the same time. A multi talented squirrel.

I know your reaction is "Awww! How cute! Did you take a picture? The darling little thing! How absolutely adorable!"
But no. No. Not this squirrel. Definitely not.

This squirrel had a mad glint in its eyes. That, accompanied by the unnerving staring and simultaneous tapping, totally freaked me out.

Any normal, sane squirrel would have fled at the first movement of the curtains. Not this squirrel. This squirrel wanted to get in.

What for? If it was raining, I'd've understood. I'd've gladly let it in and provided it refreshments and shelter until the rain subsided. But it was a perfectly sunny day. Who knows what ulterior motives this weird squirrel had. I wasnt going to let it in and steal all the electronic goods. Or allow it to murder me or something.
(Really. It looked vicious.)

Helpless and not knowing what to do, I phoned my mum to ask her advice. At least they'd have some idea what happened if they got home and found me gagged and unconscious on the sofa.

"Mum, there's this squirrel, and he's staring at me and I think he's mad!" I blurt out as soon as she picks up.
"What? What's that? A squirrel?" annoyed voice "I'm in a meeting, Madhu. Just scare it away. I'm sure you're capable of scaring a squirrel away."
"No!" I try to explain "But this one's a mad squi..."
Engaged tone

So much for that. Well they'd be sorry when they'd find later how the squirrel managed to bore through the glass with those razor like teeth of his and get at me.
Muttering a little, I pick up a newspaper and chuck it at the squirrel. A sane squirrel would've run for it. Blinked even. Not this one.
I try and scare it with sudden movements. The neighbours must have thought I was performing some kind of weird dance ritual.
I tap back at it through the window.
Believe me, any other squirrel'd have been dead with fright.
Not this one.
The newspaper and dancing only angered it further and it began squeaking.

I decided to ignore it. Switched the TV on, tried to find something on National Geographic about how squirrels are easy prey for owls or something. Thought I'd try and scare its wits out.

It left, finally. Got bored I think, since I was no longer acting hysterically.
Good riddance, the mad little thing.
Coming and frightening me out of my sleep. Who does it think it is?