Yesterday while I was talking to a friend, I mentioned that the last post I had written was on new year resolutions and that was a year ago. I lamented on how I had not bothered to write about anything else that happened in the last year. Today I came to the blog and I saw that the new year post was 2 years back and in 2011! So here is the effort to make things right. Slightly.
This is going to be a post which is just meant to break the writer's block and nothing else. I have neither any theme in my mind nor any observation that can be tweaked to a funny post. I promise to get one of those real soon.
First of all, happy new year everybody! 2012 was fantastic for me and 2013 has a tough job to live up to that. For the people whose 2012 sucked, well.. the year is over.
2012 finally made the dream of IISc come true for me. I had been trying for a while now to get a sabbatical and get into the Institute to do my Masters and there were some obstacles on the way. But yes, all that starts well ends well too. College life is good. Nothing like my undergrad days but nevertheless, its proving to be a great learning opportunity. After working for a while, you pick up a style of life- wake up, go to work, come back after 8-9 hours, relax and sleep. I am still sticking to that routine. People who hear this say its for the good. I too, want to believe that :)
This new year's day, unlike others, was spent outdoors. There was a museum, an art gallery, some greenery, a movie and red sauce pasta with sprite. They were awesome. Although not strictly in the order in which they are written :) There were two dogs going at it in the greenery, but as the suave girl I am, lets all pretend I dint see that or mention it here.
Resolutions this year are: 4kms in half hour. Not by wheels. By legs. And learn to swim.
Welcome 2013. For a major extent, try to be kind :)
Twitter time line can be very inspiring. Apart from creating an impulse to get a fancy haircut or shop for total unnecessary , it does give an inspiration to babble when someone else share the link at which they had babbled ("Comeon! I can crap like this..")
This week has been entertaining so far. I think its the brother's visit from home. He in this post-college-before-next-thing phase of life where you are so bored that you actually end up cleaning the Songs folder in D: drive. The other day, we took a walk to the Cream centre in IndraNagar (which btw is totally worth visiting!) for a early dinner. As usual I was being healthily inquisitive (this translates to gossiping in XY dictionary apparently) on the current state of romantic affairs at college.
I learnt a couple of phrases from the conversation.
1. Ladyman : A guy who can mingle with any crowd of girls without approaching any dangerous relationship status related territory within ten minutes of introduction. And has the capability to carry on the conversation for another 10 mins.
2. Pseudo : Pseudo are the guys who are percieved to be lady man but are actual brother figures for most of the girls. These are the guys who are resorted for any protection, escorting in the late evenings after curfew and thulping the ex boyfriend in case of any trouble
3. Fielder : These are guys who go for girls who have been out recently from a relationship. In the sense that they often catch the ball that was missed by the batsmen (I know! I know!)
4. Point 3 guys are also referred to as father of foreign country* for obvious reasons :P
5. Mama-max : These are the ultimate peacemaker guys as the name suggests. Post the 2 o clock cell phone fights in wing corridor, they are the guys who receive the hurled cell phone on their face, wake up joltingly, wipe the drool and make peace between the parties.
Oh my!
P.S: Sidin or someone said that they write in Georgia font, size 14 in notepad. Totally works! And as for the previous post, the answer to self in the same style is
This idiotic woman I know, named ‘time’, is popping out a kid every annum!.With the new year around the corner, this is the time when everybody thinks the most of themselves – sheer assumption that a lot of things can be done. So, there is this immense pressure to come up with an answer other than “punch the people in the face who ask such questions” for the “what is your new year resolution then?” question.
Life would have been much simpler if it was the 6-7th std time.
An old aunty (who always talks in English for reasons unknown to me): What is your New Year resolution, Mathangi?
Me (on an autopilot): To beat Ramesh and become class topper this time.
Btw Ramesh is not the usual Ramesh, Suresh names used in Indian short stories. Class topper Ramesh existed 100%. Met him recently in the train station. He said he is writing CAT. There was this momentary urge to give CAT just so I could beat him. Yeah yeah. Done with the digression.
Around high school, I had to accept the fact that since intelligence is distributed as a normal curve amongst the population; its unity probable that I am not the maxima in the y axis. So, I gave up on the former and tried to instead come up with stuffs like, learn karate or swimming or basketball just to flip out my mom. (Who btw still thinks that it’s better if I have long, shiny, chlorine-unaffected hair than to risk drowning some day. Honestly, I prefer the former too.)
Later in college, the concept of New Year and all was completely ditched because the sem would start on Jan 2 and it used to be freaking -2 or -3 deg. There were more pressing problems like who would get the ‘hottest’ bucket of water from the wing bathroom geyser or unanswered questions like ‘how the hell that girl from the 9th block gult wing manages to look all pretty and girly with sweaters and shawls clad around? (Actually, for this I got my answer pretty fast – I owned (still own) 3 sweaters, 2 blue and a brown. Both the blues are with tooth paste and Night canteen maggi stains and the brown is 2 sizes larger which I am supposed to grow into. I would have dry cleaned those 2 times in 4 years. So no mystery there)
After graduating, the New Year came with this ‘katchori sized’ fear in the stomach of “Damn. I am growing old. And I am running out of new ways to procrastinate taking decisions in life.”So this year I thought I will do something different and actually plan out 2-3 things which I want to do. One is to write more often. Not bother about the quality of the outcome, but just narrate the eccentric world as I see it. And do it more often. Monthly one post is what I have in mind (I know I know. This is like “I will go to gym every week” resolution which is lasts till Feb mid and then gets converted to one gulaab jamoon every time I pass Anand sweets.)
Another is to travel for pleasure. There are a couple of places in the “I want to visit before I am 40 and mother of two” list. Hope is to check at least 2 places out of them as done. There is another resolution but I don’t want to jinx it by making you read it.I have this weird belief that resolutions don’t last if told to the world. But what the hell. They don’t last most of the time anyways. Might as well make a blog post of it.
Happy new year, everyone!
P.S: A wise stranger I know, once said something like “the problem with the future is that it becomes present quite soon” Vehhry true.
Damn.This is the eleventh sentence that I chose to begin this post with. OK, twelfth if you consider the swearing also. Did so since the other nine were like quahh--aah--aaah [ insert brain-blown-away-by-2-fingers action here].
I was having my lunch today. Since it had something to do with ragi, or something that was ragi, my concentration slipped off and I started watching something else. That and the fact that we were all sitting water-throw distance from the wash area.
I was glancing at the thin banana in my plate when something chill fell on my elbow. Looking up, I realized it was the work of a wash basin-er. To take revenge on him and all the people like him, I came up with this wierd classification of the ways Indians use the wash basin water resource.
1. Nail edge washers : These people wash just, and only just their painted nail edges. Heppy females in the age group of 20-25 fit here. I guess this is an efficient way of cleaning the part that gets affected while eating brown bread sandwiches. And no, not the way of stuffing 75% of it in one go and wondering whether you should have ordered 1+2 on the same plate.
2. South Indian full hand mixers : These gentlemen use all the palm area (both front and back!) of the hand while mixing rice. So they typically fill their hand with soap, like the way water is filled while drinking directly drinking it from the tap.Then they go with full furious scrubbing until the soap overflows till three fourths of the looking like wash gloves. Some of them , smell their hands after the wash.Guess that's just to make sure that theyhave used sufficient soap.
3. Non Invasive Sound makers : These people are the vocally active class.They make noises that go like Guaah- Quahh- qerrghh- krheeh and then spit.But they arenon violent Gandhians compared the next class.
4.Invasive Sound makers : Apart from being vocally active, these people typically put two to four fingers inside the mouth during the process. Sometimes, it looks like they are trying to pull their large intestines out. ( through the mouth. Obviously). They also go with a using-the-index-finger-as-a-brush action after the invasion. Why one wants to one'scapability of not throwing up is beyond comprehension
5. Foreigners : These are the typical Marks, Steves and Johns from the west who areonsiting in the corporates. They use only spoons or chopsticks. So they take tissues from thedispenser, fold them and wipe their hands fully. But the mystery is why they have to do itin front of a wash basin. Bigger mystery is why they have to bend down while doing that in front of the wash basin.
6. Bend it like Beckham-ers: These are the visually harmful people. They bend over the washbasin till the extent of a half postrate as though the flowing water hissing secret blessings. What they fail to understand is that, no one is interested in seeing stitched-pants-clad-backs of men. Neither men nor women.
7. Splatterers : These are the kind because of whom the post came into existance. They wash the whole area in the vicinity ie. three washbasins on either side. Unlike the group 6, these people stand unusally erect and the let the water come down with F = mg force causing others to get drenched.
Of course, there is a eight variety, who use the washbasin in the most dignified manner. They are the kind who just observe the others and milk sarcasm of out of it. The world should learn from them.
P.S : This looks like my first post of the year. Yay! :) Hope wierd things keep happening in the world and I remain sane enough to document them in Web 2.0 :)
On a friday evening, when all the bugg-able people on my gtalk list were yellow, the following thing happened. But before you guys know what the following thing is, I have to say that my mom is in my gtalk list. The fourth year summer holidays (college) are to be blamed. That was when I was like 24x7 online, checking imaginary mail and talking non stop with all the greeners and redders. Used to shoo her away when she came to call for the meals which i insisted on having right before the comp. She screamed at me and challenged that she would learn all this in one year and , here it is. Admirable! (Ahem!)
Me: amma..naan iniki chennai varene :D (I am coming to chennai today-Yay!)
She: very happy
Me: put a smiley then. Semi colon and a closing bracket
She: :)
Me: super!
She ;)
Me: that is winking. You are learning fast \m/
She: \m/
Me: that is yo
She: i don't know all these dee. Enna berth? (The most important concern in her life)
Me: (Not paying attention to the conversation at all) Smile :) wink ;) sarcasm :P love <3
She: :) adi podi nee varumbothu u explain (Explain when you are here)
Me: scorpion V.v.V frown :-/ sad :( cry :'(: kiss :-x
She: You people remember all these things? Aiyo rama! What are you doing?
Me: Nothing. Watching something.
She: What are you watching?
Me: Nothing ma. English serial.
She: Enaku theriyum.(I know) That friends only no?
Me: (Wow! Inside head) yes. That only
She: Don’t watch all that kanna. That day ninju was watching it on the TV. It had gay and all.
Me: What???! (Stifling laugh) Amma, Gay is not some kind of a thing one has. It is...
She: (interrupting) I know what that kanraavi* is . I made ninju tell
Me : (Feeling lucky for the millionth time that I am not my brother) Hahhaaha. And?
She: Paakathenna paakatha. Avlodhaan (Don’t see means don’t see. That’s all). I was so worried that ninju is also watching it like you.
Me: Why are you worried again? Because it had the term or because ninju was watching it? (Yeah. I like to freak my mom out)
She: Vaai neelama pochu rendu perkum vara vara (Mouth has become longer for you and your brother these days)
Me: Hehe. (Now totally in the mood to freak her out) Amma, there is a cute guy in my bus. I see him daily.
She: Hmm
Me: (Realising its not working as planned) Tall and all
She: Hmm
Me: (Damn it. Still nothing?) Fair too
She: Hmm
Me: (Thats it.. Going for the final cut..) Stubble-ed also..
She: Hmm
Me: (Disbelieving!) What? did you see what i said?
She: Yeah yeah. One question. Did he see you ?
Me: (Damn it damn it damn it!!) (Mumbling something, typing nothing) Po* maa.
She: Velaya paaru dee :P*
Me: (Sarcasm?!!) Grrr.
Lessons learnt:
1. Teaching smileys to mothers aint all that great an idea. But atleast, she got the sarcasm thing right.
2. I am losing the abitlity to freak my mom out these days. Sadness.
3. Later in the day she called me up for something else but innocently enquired whether it was a Tamil Iyer boy and warned...,well..., lets just say that the freak out gene is still active. - Comforting!
4. Moms are just levllee*
5. Point 4 should have been point 1.
Translations: kanraavi = basic shit Po = go Velaya paaru dee = Shut up and do your work. (buried in a truck load of sarcasm) levllee = Oh, thats just me saying lovely. Come on!
And so, I sat down finally to open the notepad and scribble something. Needless to say, the blog has been idle for all practical purposes for a long time now.It struck hard when there was "Nothing -but-entropy, Life is good, 2 months back" in another blogroll. One can justify it using many reasons but almost always none of them are true. So, skipping all those parts I am going to the so called the main thread. Having become a bangalore resident for over a year now, the trip to home every alternate weekend is kind of getting a ritual that seems to happen by default. Thanks to our railway system that guarantees tickets that get over faster than Anand Sweets samosas kept in the next cubicle for another baby born.
And so, on a typical friday. I like fridays. Those are the days that I start exhibiting time defying properties. I forget my time-space coordinates and the whole day goes in the hope of 5.30 pm's arrival. The frantic dirty clothes packing is an important part. The mere fact that those can be dumped somewhere is a great feeling by itself.
Mom : "Why did u get so much clothes?" Me : "Eh? Coz I dint wash them" Mom : "But u said u were washin clothes the other day i had called u" Me : (Realising "that" was the day with some season finale and hence calls were being mercilessly cut) "Oh! That was previous week's clothes" Mom : "But you got those last weekend here only" Me : (Damn!) "Then it would have been the week previous to that!" Mom : (Now eyeing suspiciously) Do u ever wash clothes?
By that time, I would have gone into a detailed mathematical illustration of what weeks come after what weeks in a chronological order using a lot of numbers. This always works like a charm to get out of any conversation with her. But enough of digression. Coming back to the friday evening. And so, I land up in the station atleast an hour before the departure. This is another pity while going to chennai. The trains normally start just before conventional midnight and reach chennai by my midnight!.Struck up at the station there is nothing one can do except randomly glance at the various other specimens like oneself! Quite often, one does bump into some known person of years back (especially so, when most of the ppl one knows have ended up in engineering) and the conversations are entirely for courtesy purposes
Random familiar face : hey u are mathangi right? Me : Yes .Hi..How are u? ( Still trying frantically to rem the name) RFF : Fine.So watsup? Me : (entire college + work history in a line max). U? RFF : (Answer in the same format). Me : So...Hmm...Good... (single words or single syllable sounds one after the (elongated) other) RFF : (Realising that there was no need of that enthued Hi)........ ...... ...........Yeah...... (Both simultaneously) : So see u around then?! (Both simultaneously) : (Relieved) Sure!
Hence, I take extra care not to walk around too much in the platform.There are of course books that are entirely written for reading during Indian railways second class travel but the look that some nerdily cute guy passing by gives while seeing me with such a cover gets really intimidating. Finally the train came and the settling down started after the eternal confusion of upper, middle, lower and the side upper and lower. I always check out the list pasted on the compartment beginning. It kind of prepares me mentally.That day there were these 2 dudes before me checkin out the list.
Dude 1 : Hey look da. Some 22 year old female in your bay. Dude 2: Yes Dude 1: If u sleep off early, I will kill you. We are gonna talk late Dude 2: Hehe
Having the agenda of checking the list mercilessly squashed, I got inside the compartment and looked around to check the other passengers in the bay.Always, actually always, one of those co-passengers would be a baby of not more than a year old. And there it was! It looked at me with a smirk that said "So, u think you can sleep. lets see, how that goes". I gave up the last hope of a decent sleep and climbed up to my berth. I have to mention about how strategically these berths are placed. Whenever the pity mom or the angry dad picks up the cryin kid to get to a standing position, the kid's mouth lands up right next to my ear! I drifted off a little after the tough adjusting of my frame into the berth ( The railways should allot berths according to passenger's height. The 6 year old kid next to me got a nice middle berth to sleep like the Vitruvian man on the cover of Da Vinci while the poor 5 foot 8 inches frame of mine had to fit inside a side upper berth! - Atrocious I say!) and that is the time the baby started off with a mildwaaannn. I turned in the hope of increasing the mouth-to-ear distance and still it dint make any effect. By this time the 'mild' in the above sentence turned to 'an intense screamy' and i gave up and conceded defeat. After me staring pleadingly into its eyes for 15 mins (or after it became tired or whatever) it stopped the howling.
I was relieved and started to try falling asleep again. This time there was a periodic sinusoidal noise. Initally for a second, I thought I was having a dream about the resonance frequency experiments of my high school physics lab.But that sounded ridiculous even to my subconscious mind since I had always dreamt through those experiments too. So, I got up to find the source of the noise. It was a well based snoring from a gigantic tummy in the opposite berth (gigantic tummy because, that was all I could actually see). By this time, I was beyond irritation and more towards resigning and accepting the fate. I started observing the crests and troughs of the wave pattern which by the way was intruiging since one seem to come from the mouth and the other from the nose!
By this time, I already got the "Welcome to Chennai, Have a pleasant stay" message from Airtel. Gathering the backpack I step outside. Smelling the masala dosa and filter kaapee from the Saravana Bhavan in Central Station, I somehow felt that it was all worth it! Home is home I say!- whatever may be! :)
P.S : Read somewhere that the title of the blog is the biggest reader attractor - Hence, tried something :P :)