The Importance of Being Idle

I've finally posted! About absolutely nothing!If you haven't fainted..continue reading .if you have..um where do you keep the smelling salts!?!?

2006-10-19T03:16:00.000-07:00

I haven’t blogged in a very very very long time. Now, why is this? I would like to go on a tangent talking about how busy I’ve been, how terribly sick etc etc…but that’s not it. Honestly, I have no fucking clue.

Well I have been busy with work…but that’s only been for the past couple of weeks. I hate it…some of the people are really nice otherwise they’re quite a rude/aloof lot. Slaving away for at least 8 hours a day is no joke…wonder how our parents do it, or how I’ll do it when I absolutely have to. Which reminds me…I turned 20 a couple of days ago. I’m old!! 20!! Time I started being responsible and thinking seriously about the state of this endless charade that I call life….

Ok moving along swiftly. I’ve been thinking about a few aspects of me as a person which I’m not quite happy about….(no this isn’t going to be one of those ‘oh why am I so misunderstood’ pieces of writing). I’m a pushover. Let’s face it. I have been since I was a little kid and I will be when I’m 80 (god forbid) when I’ll let annoying grandchildren get away with murder.

A lot of people confuse being a pushover with being terribly kind…I’m not like that. I can be quite a hard ass if I want to…but it’s just that when people ask me for something I have trouble saying ‘No I can’t do that…’ when I know that I can but I don’t really want to. It’s quite sad because people who know will obviously take advantage of it. And people have… I don’t want to mention names but it has happened way too many times. It got pretty bad that at one point a friend of mine (who was really pissed off by this poor behaviour) made me repeat ‘I will not be a pushover…I will not be a pushover’…well it didn’t work…I think he’s given up. And this pushover side of me rears its meek little head in the strangest of situations. A lot of people come up to me and say things like ‘oh my god…if she did that to me I wouldn’t even be talking to her. I can’t believe that you’re still friends with her!?!’… One more thing people make the mistake of doing is confusing us pushovers with dumb asses. We’re not dumb. We won’t be taken for a ride time and again and then just forget it ever happened. We might forgive but we don’t forget. I tried becoming more pushy about what I wanted. But then people would be so shocked that they wouldn’t take my outburst seriously or would just say something terribly woe worthy….which will make me say ‘oh sorry…I’ll do it for you’…Sheesh when am I going to get over myself and question people about their actions and not forgive them and make them suffer…oh no this sounds more and more like what I said this wasn’t going to be…I better stop.

Talking about other things, one thing that baffles me till today is my shrink-like persona…people find it very easy to come and talk to me about their problems…and most of the time it’ll be relationship problems. It’s funny enough that they even think about asking me for advice on that (considering well my lack of experience in that department and an utterly non-existent love life)… lol…Actually I like being a shrink…

Ok and to end this utterly this dismal excuse of a blog, I’m reading ‘A million little pieces’ by James Frey. Everybody adores it, Oprah actually did a show on the book…I frankly think it’s just OK…engaging in bits but not spectacularly brilliant. The book is about a drug addict at a re-hab centre. The main characters suck (it’s a memoir so I guess I don’t like him then). I do not like his style of writing (he repeats words and sentences at least 5 times on each page)

For example:

I went for dinner. I ate like I hadn’t eaten before.

Eat

Need fuel

Eat

Need fuel

(or)

I went back to my room. I was really tired.

Sleep was following me.

Sleep

Crack

Sleep.

Everybody says its fuckin brilliant and have been raving about it. I think it’s alright and am inching through it…if I can’t finish it by tonight I’m gonna ditch it for Hitchhiker’d guide to the galaxy…I’ll give James Frey’s little fucked up life one more chance. Oh and yes I heard most of the stuff in his book was made up…dunno which bits…I’ll find out and let you all know…

2006-07-04T04:34:00.000-07:00

People watching is an art. An art that needs to be cultivated at a very early age. And at the right places….the right places are the usual places cool/hip people hang out in…coffee joints (these places are full of sappy couples who haven’t told their parents about their relationship and hence spend time holding hands…or the broody, serious intellectuals who read or work on random novels on their laptops….and sometimes idiots like me who have nothing else to do and are sometimes forced to get out and drink over-priced coffee all the while having the joy of being asphyxiated with the smoke (both cigarette and hookah), incense and traffic fumes and dying of laughter while I see the number of ‘characters’ enter and exit…seriously it’s like a beautifully orchestrated play…with different chracters (read: the bimbo, the jock, the third wheel, the diva, the hen-pecked boyfriend, the nerd, the burn-out, the druggie, the slob…)

But what I didn’t know was that people watchers were missing out on a very important place…the airport! Yes…the airport! And this place hosts a myriad of emotions unlike the coffee places (although there might be the occasional break-up/fight)…I realized how great the airport was for people watching when I went to pick up my mum. With my father, who turned out to be a rather avid people-watcher himself.

We were at the arrival section standing with a host of drivers with various signs from hotels…looking at the people walking out we’d give him a story and then match him to the hotel. For example:

Close haircut, clean-shaven, suit, trolley-bag, bag for laptop with middle-aged wife in pant suit = Fisherman’s Cove
Dreadlocks, moustache, shorts and tank top, humungous back-pack with chick with 5 piercings on her face alone slinging along a guitar = Quality Inn Sabari

I can’t say we were right all the time. Sometimes the hippie would end up at the Park Sheraton while the suave techie would be headed for Golden Sun.

Cousins from America and family from the UK brought me to the airport again a few days ago and I embarked on another people watching (observing) session. Except this time I was watching the way people greeted each other. People fall under various categories…

The first one is the enthusiastic greeter. Here the person is thumped vigorously on the back and is given a hug just short of a Heimlich maneuver. Then the greeter asks 20 questions in one breath and makes sure he/she holds the person’s hand and luggage while making their way to the parking lot.

Next is the awkward greeter. Here the greeter greets the person in a cordial/ acceptable manner… and then says nothing at all. He might grin awkwardly from time to time but then quickly offer to help with their bags and walk away allowing other people to make conversation.

The third is the unknown greeter. Here the greeter doesn’t even know the person arriving. It could be an official from a corporate picking up a visitor from the branch abroad but it could also be a fiancé meeting her groom for the first time. I happened to be around when one of those was happening. The girl all dressed up for the occasion (with flowers sometimes) glanced shyly at the boy, shook his hand, said ‘hello’ and smiled. Then she would walk with the rest of the folks stealing glances every now and then.

The fourth is the highly distracted greeter. These greeters are usually harried mums with 3 kids (who absolutely insisted on coming to the airport) or more. So instead of looking out for the person whom they’re waiting for, they’re busy buying the kids snacks, drinks, taking them to the loo and making sure they aren’t killing each other at the same time. This gets worse if the people arriving happens to bring their kids along which means with all the greeting, hugging and punching all the kids are mixed up and the greeter is torn between giving her sister a hug and ripping apart her screaming 4 and 6 year old.

But then there are also the people who’re dropping people off. Some of them are smiling, most of them are crying and a few of them look sad but are secretly happy. The people leaving are usually sad but I’ve seen quite a few looking relieved. Then I saw a new one. A person who’s expecting someone to pick her up but hasn’t been picked up as yet. She’s upset, angry, a little hurt and a little scared…. I’m not sure what happened after that because our folks had arrived and we were busy…greeting.

As much as I love people watching, I often wonder if I’m a victim to it myself…if someone is watching my every move, laughing at what I do, making snide remarks at what I say…watching ME…’people watch’.

2006-06-13T04:10:00.000-07:00

My house is being painted…..again. Which means I’m dealing with a perpetually blocked nose..scratchy eyes...and a prickly feeling in my throat, and I feel like I’ve got a weird skin infection (is that even possible?). A lot of people like the smell of paint. I don’t. Hence I’m feeling suffocated…in my own home.

This blog’s been dead for over a month now. I wish it wasn’t. But it was. Anna actually posted a comment saying: DEAD DEAD…THIS BLOG IS DEAD…..and it was anna….it’s not like I didn’t wanna blog..it’s not like there was NOTHING happening in my life. I just didn’t feel like blogging. But now I’m back…and I don’t know what to write about…

The next two month’s going to be family time….cousins coming over from America and my uncles and aunts with their kids are coming over from England. It’s going to be a full house but who cares…I’m gonna have fun…My dad’s definitely looking forward to following the matches with his Brit brothers-in-law…They all support England…my dad’s been supporting the team since forever and I guess I support them too….but somehow I don’t think they have a chance at the actual cup…why? Cos they’re simply not good enough, that’s why... Hopefully appa won’t read this…cos if he does I’ll definitely be disowned. (he takes his footy seriously….he actually stood for the English national anthem when they were playing it in the match versus Paraguay!….I guess I couldn’t say anything cos he lived there for 30 years of his life…but I almost died laughing!)

Moving on…as fun as it’ll be when they come down, I’ll hate one bit….the part where they leave. And I’ll hate it not only because I’ll hate the fact that they’re leaving but more because at the moment I’ll be the only one with dry eyes in the room. And then I’ll feel worse cos they’ll all cry and hug me and I just won’t be able to cry. Is it because I’m as cold and unfeeling as many people think I am? I honestly do not know. I admit I am a bit stoic and I do cry when someone very close to me passes on. So why can’t I cry when someone close to me leaves….is it because I know that someday I’ll see them again? Some people think it’s just a tough girl façade….and I’m not sensitive enough to other people’s feelings…. And that I’m a rude, sarcastic, cold cynic. On the other hand, my older brother cries a lot. He’s one of those broody, smart, sensitive types, you know? And he cries at the drop of a hat. For god’s sake he cried for Armageddon! (while I was laughing at him of course)…sometimes I think there was a mix-up in the genes and while I got no ‘sensitive’ traits he got an overdose of it! I’ve cried (sobbed actually) for only one movie in my life. I cry every time I watch The Green Mile…one of my favourite movies. But just the one.

Soon I’m going to be the only kid at home. I’ve always dreamed of that happening. I’m the middle-kid and no I’m not suffering from some middle-kid syndrome and I’ve never felt neglected or anything. But I was a very quiet kid and wouldn’t really demand the attention. With two brothers I’ve always been their peace-maker (when they wanna pull each other’s hair out), their guinea-pig(when they wanted to try out new wrestling moves, farts (like the flying fart invented by my genius bro) on me) and their pushover sister (I distinctly remember them detaching the head of one of my Barbie dolls and playing catch). But now when I think about it…I don’t wanna be the only kid anymore! This means I’ll be under constant scrutiny…I won’t be the ‘good kid’ anymore, I’ll be the only kid which means I’ll be picked on…My older brother went away a year ago…not very far away but the house felt empty without him. Now the other one’s off to college…again not very far away…but far enough… :(

Speaking of far away places….I think America’s becoming weirder and weirder as time goes by. Ok, I don’t know about the place itself, but the people there….jeez…..did you know…Tom Cruise ate his wife’s (teeny bopper Katie Holmes) placenta after she gave birth? ATE A PART OF HER BODY! And he wanted her to have a silent delivery? Ok maybe it’s only tom cruise who’s weird…

Ok that’s it for now…..Comment y’all!

2006-05-11T04:08:00.000-07:00

Hi da…hw r u?

I’m sure many of you at some point in your life have got this weird greeting on your cell phone. From an unknown number. With an unknown name. Normally what would a person think? I’m not sure but this is what my stupid pea-sized brain though. ‘maybe I know this person…. I’ll just ask who it is….’

And the answer I got: wich college da?

Now this just pissed me off…because first of all this person (who is so obviously some loser guy) didn’t answer my question. Instead he posed another question and referred to me as ‘da’. like I was his friend or something…and I suppose it’s a term of endearment but there’s something about that word…especially when a girl is called ‘da’…not that ‘dee’ is any better but at least it sticks to the gender. I wonder how guys will feel if we started calling them dee….the word itself sounds weird…da…dee…dum….

So I didn’t reply. And what do I get? ‘Y not replyng da? msgs nt reching u?’

I stared at the message feeling sick and revolted! The idiot didn’t use his dictionary on his phone! Or he didn’t know how to. And when I see a person like that I immediately lose respect for that person and mock him/her cruelly without his/her knowledge (I’m mean…I know. But thankfully I don’t know many people like that) Using ‘u’ for you and ‘ur’ for your is ok…but what’s the use in writing ‘replyng’ to imply ‘replying’ when you’re not really shortening the word in the first place! It’s only one letter for god’s sake! He probably thinks this way of writing is cool…I found it atrocious and had quite a laugh with it…

I didn’t reply and decided to ignore the bugger. But in the next few minutes I got a ‘tel me if u at hme or coll nd I tel who I am’ so I thought ‘finally…an answer!’ so I said I was at home…which was stupid and wrong of me. Because the fool took this as a sign and said he got my number from his friend’s phone and was doing his final year of engineering (this he spelt eng….it could’ve been English…but if it was then he’d be failing his course miserably wouldn’t he?) and he wanted to be ‘frends’. Yikes! As much as I wanted to know who this ‘FREND’ of mine who had this loser’s number was…I didn’t say anything. I was bored and irritated.

So after 4 more ‘Y no reply da? u busy. Tel ys I wnt msg’ he called. The asshole actually called! And then hung up when I picked up the phone (of course I picked up…I had a few choice words to say!) After that Bharath (who incidentally sent messages posing as some cheri person wanting to make friendship to all his friends as soon as he got his phone) called him. They had an inspiring conversation where Bharath said ‘hello’ and he said ‘hello’ and then hung up. So anyway he hasn’t messaged after that…

I don’t know why I wrote about this…but I needed to write something because I was getting death threats from my friend who said I had to post…and this was all that happened because the rest of my life right now is fucking boring.

Ok forget about that loser. I read two very different books over the past couple of days. One was ‘By the River Piedra I sat and wept’ and the other was ‘Inconceivable’ Now the first book I chose to read because it was by Paulo Coelho and I liked ‘the Alchemist’…but this Piedra book…not so good. In fact one of the worst books I have ever read (This was worse than one night at the call centre)…the book started out ok…but the character I thought I could identify with went totally nuts somewhere in the middle of the book and she started talking nonsense. Maybe it’s a book for those ‘broody sensitive types’ but it did absolutely nothing for me.

The second book was Ben Elton. I have one word to say about it. Brilliant. It was not only laugh out loud funny but it also had that slightly understated humour in it. And the writer was not trying to prove anything or sound incredibly smart or intelligent which worked out just right because he was talking about real people…who aren’t THAT sensitive and not that smart. So anyway, that’s it…hopefully I’ll have something better to write about the next time.

2006-05-02T05:13:00.000-07:00

I’m finally here……back at home sweet home…out of the WEIRD CITY….and back to normal madras...People think I’m insane when I say I’m glad I’m out of Bangalore and back in Madras…They think it’s hot and sticky and un-cool here while it’s all hip over there…It’s not, ok? At least I don’t think so and I’ll tell you why…

1. The Traffic:

There are absolutely no road ethics whatsoever. I thought Madras was bad till my first car journey over there. The locals say the reason for the insane traffic is because majority of the people are car owners. Driving is almost a sub-conscious activity over here. Over there, driving is a skill…a skill that only the trained and attuned can acquire and develop. And what about people who don’t have the required skills? They drive anyway, butting people out of the place, hence transforming the city into a motorised stampede/ monster truck madness marathon. The objective : Do whatever it takes to get to your destination on time…and if that means smashing a few cars on the way, nearly hitting a couple of elderly pedestrians and driving at insane break-neck speeds (they can’t drive at that speed most of the time)…so be it. Basically driving there is like being on one of those bumper car games at amusement parks gone horribly wrong. Because in this case the car doesn’t miraculously remain in the same condition when you bump into someone and giggling and saying ‘oops’ will not make it all better for both drivers. Many people say traffic wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the terrible roads. Which brings me to the second reason as to why I hated the place so much…

2. The Roads:

I can count the number of good roads in the city on one hand. The rest are all crap with potholes in all sorts of places…but I realized that it used to be much worse than this when I was in the car with my uncle…

UNCLE: They’ve finally fixed the road! After 5 years they’ve actually fixed it!

ME: (At this point looking slightly green because of moving up and down so much) Ummm….they have???

UNCLE: Can’t you feel the difference? You can practically eat off this road, it’s so good!!

ME: (At this point the car is almost vertical) Right…ok…whatever you say…

Evading the potholes (practically the size of mining shafts) while making sure that nobody gets hurt (here we’re not only talking about pedestrians (all jay walkers because of the absence of pavements)…but also cattle and things like that) is what causes all the traffic trouble…and I stayed in a locality where all the IT companies were located and they had the worst roads. One day, I saw this dirt track, full of stones and muck. ‘Where does that road lead to?” I asked my aunt. ‘Probably some village,’ I thought. I was wrong. The road actually led to one of the best International Schools in Bangalore!

3. Commuting:

Now take the first reason and second one, mix it up and you get the third reason as to why I didn’t like it there. Commuting is a bitch. Taking almost half an hour to get to a location 10 minutes away, while choking on the fumes was horrible and frustrating…but I guess this is in some way my fault. I take living in the heart of the city in Madras for granted. Now I know what it feels like to live in Tambaram and travel to Nungambakkam everyday.

4. The Weather:

Ok…now you’re probably thinking I’ve lost it (if you already haven’t) because Bangalore is known for its amazing weather. Well not when I was there. It was hot but I wasn’t sweating! Most of you probably think that’s a good thing but not sweating means your body is still filled with those toxins hence making my usually clear face resemble a leper’s… (Ok maybe I’m exaggerating just a little bit on that one…but having to walk three kms plus jog half a km to get just a glisten of sweat is not satisfying in any way,not sweating makes you feel like you haven’t worked out at all).

5. Some of the people:

Some of them were just too hep for me. Once Divya and I spotted this dude sporting spiked hair (each spike was coloured making it look like he had measles on his head), looooooose jeans, a huge fake football/ basketball jersey, a head band, sun-glasses (we were inside at this point and I must say wearing shades indoors is just plain weird…you can do it if you’re stevie wonder or ray charles or heck even lenny kravitz for that matter!) I couldn’t stop laughing! People here are really conscious about the way they dress…nothing wrong with that but I think wearing a flared skirt, cowboy boots with a ‘teased?(or is it tousled?)’ hairdo all the while giving mere mortals like me superior looks is just annoying. However, I did meet some really nice people, for example the people I worked with and my uncle and aunt’s friends were fun…and interesting.

6. The humungous number of MAN UNITED fans:

There are Manchester united fans all over the world. But the sheer number of fans in Bangalore had me thinking that there was some sort of United convention going on there. I personally hate that team and my family supports Manchester City, so I have this problem where my face would automatically turn into a sneer when I saw a United jersey. And they weren’t even proper jerseys! I saw them in red, white, black…even orange! (Fergie would’ve been appalled) And I’m sure most of them wore those jerseys on the pretext of looking cool and probably have Arsenal jerseys stashed away for future use…On the upside, I met a few Arsenal fans and a Liverpool fans and we engaged ourselves in some nice, proper United bashing…

So basically my internship went great…but Bangalore made me appreciate Madras a lot and look at the place in a whole new light. When I came back, I was looking at everything for the first time…again. The sights, the smells, the sounds and as I felt tiny droplets of sweat form on my face, I smiled…I was back.

PS: This post was all about what I thought of Bangalore and in no way means to hurt the sentiments of Bangaloreans…There were some things I liked about the place…like the buses (they had automatic doors to prevent foot boarders from riding and were more spacious and cleaner than Madras buses)…However my brother thinks they lack the josh nd spirit Madras buses have…you know, the inherent ‘get out of my way or you die’ trait…anyway I’ve digressed as usual…so no hard feelings ok?

2006-04-23T08:39:00.001-07:00

A friend of mine recently made a statement that she wanted to start smoking. You know, just for the heck of it…. to see what the fuss was all about. And normally this friend is not the type to blindly follow what everybody’s doing because it’s cool.

I told her what I thought and she said I should blog about it because she thinks my blog’s on its way to becoming extinct. Maybe she said it to just make me post, but here’s what I think. Smoking is not cool. At all. In fact I think it’s the most disgusting habit anybody could ever pick up. Now don’t go thinking I’m one of those overly conservative girls who thinks smoking and drinking is ‘bad’ and ‘unacceptable.’ Cause I’m not. Half my family smokes for God’s sake (my house is one place where you’d always find an ashtray/lighter)…and I’m subject to passive smoking almost all the time. A lot of people ask me if I smoke and if not why…

Apart from reasons like it makes you smell of smoke all the time, you get bad breath and yellow teeth; the main reason is that it eventually kills you. Slowly. You start as a 17 year old wanting to be in the loop…just with a couple, then 20, then 40…as you continue, health problems plague you on the way. You seem to have a perpetual cough you can’t get rid of and stuff like that.

About 5 years ago I didn’t really have an opinion on smoking. My maternal grandfather used to smoke a lot. At age 61, he was diagnosed with emphysema…only at the very end did we know that his condition was misdiagnosed and the problem was the C word. Cancer. Throat cancer to be exact. And all because he didn’t stop when he had to. Losing him so early was terrible but I was too young and hadn’t really thought about it…

People might say the reason he died was because he smoked too much and too much of anything is bad for you… that it is. Drinking causes health problems too and you could die of liver function failure. But drinking in moderation is actually ok and not too bad. Actually I thought anything in moderation was ok.

But I was sadly mistaken when my paternal grandfather, who was the most meticulous person I had ever met (every thing was done according to his digital watch…everything from eating to switching of the geyser)…died at age 79 of an enlarged heart. I couldn’t understand this because he used to smoke not more than 7 cigarettes a day. But then I realized it had nothing to do with the number of cigarettes…him cutting down later had no effect…the damage was already done. In spite of his minimal smoking, his lung capacity had gone down to 30% putting pressure on the heart. I was really close to him and even today I don’t think I’ve gotten over his death.

My friend told me that she knew she’d get addicted to it if she started. She knows it’s addictive…everybody knows that. Then why get into it? Some people do it to be ‘in’…some people do it because they’re stressed…heck some people smoke to lose weight! Don’t they know that they’re sucking on a direct carcinogen? Do you have to lose people you care about it to learn that it’s not worth all the pleasure in the world?

But can you get everybody you care about to stop smoking? No. One cause they don’t listen and two because you can tell them only so much and later they’ll have to decide for themselves. So all you can do is tell them how you feel about it…and try to deter people from starting…which I was doing to my friend. I have no problems with people smoking around me…few of my friends smoke and I’m ok with that.

But I always think that maybe I could’ve had a few more years with my grandfathers if they just quit a long time ago…maybe I should be thankful that my paternal grandfather cut down cause that probably extended his life by a few more years…

Some people say they find it difficult to quit. But recently my aunt and uncle both quit at the same time because my aunt was having throat problems. It was an extremely daunting and difficult task: but they did it. It is possible.

Now when I meet a person who says he/she doesn’t smoke (which is pretty rare), I not only make an effort to talk to the person…I have immediate respect for them.

DOG CATCHERS! - Plus a run-in with Chakkas and amphibians….

2006-03-28T00:55:00.000-08:00

Last night started out great. My family and I were at my aunt’s (my mother’s cousin) house and we were having fun….drinking, snacking, watching TV…you know, the usual. So when we left her place at 11.45…we never thought it would end up so…WEIRD.

We were going to drop my other aunt (mother’s sister) back at Paati’s when we saw that a car was already parked in front of the gate. It turned out to be family from Australia. We said hi, took their bags and then did the stupidest thing by opening the gate….wide. Out came the dogs and while one of the Australian relatives kept screaming “aiyo..get away!” they kept running around the car making sure that they peed on at least one of my mum’s car tyres.

But first let me tell you about the dogs….both mongrels. The first dog, Shiva (he was named such because he had similar marks on his head like the god Shiva…yeah weird I know.) came when I was 6 or 7….he came with a family friend who was visiting and refused to leave the house. Shiva’s a different dog…he never bothers you and is the most loving canine you’d ever meet….he’s like another cousin of mine (my aunt calls him ‘her baby’). Then there’s Raja. He walked in to the house on Bharath’s (my brother) birthday and hasn’t left since. He was originally given an uppity name like ‘King’ by my little cousin, but my family being the cheri people we are…renamed him Raja (besides he wasn’t responding to King). Raja is tiny and from ‘the street’….he has his homies he visits once in a while and he’s the anti-Shiva and walks/ trots like donkey (from Shrek)

So there they were running around when suddenly Raja took off down the road, Shiva following closely behind. Bharath started running after them while Priyamma (my aunt) and my mum waited by the car. After 5 minutes it was clear he wasn’t coming back anytime soon, so my aunt set out after them.

Ten minutes later Priyamma and Bharath came running back with the dogs at their heels…she smiling but looking slightly bewildered but he looking freaked. Apparently this is what happened at the end of the road.

In Bharath’s words:

I kept running after them screaming ‘raja! Shiva!’ but they just kept running. I was almost at the end of the road when I saw two people, one was tall, with a body so lean that it looked almost masculine and was wearing a sari. The other was a short man in a lungi. I looked at them and they looked as I stood on the road….frozen. Then I heard ‘the clap…the clap only certain people made’, and I suddenly knew. I started running in the opposite direction and at the same time the man/woman started screaming at the dogs and running after me. On the way I met Priyamma and I yelped “Chakka!” “A what?” she asked and I told her there was no time to explain and kept running till we reached the car.

Bharath had a run-in with a transvestite at the end of the road! And Bharath has always been slightly freaked about them (it’s his pet-peeve). And what was funnier was Priyamma didn’t know what he meant by Chakka because it was a Hindi word and she had no idea what they were facing.

After that we expected the dogs to go back in. but Raja being who he is, ran towards the other end of the road. And Bharath went after him! Again! Fifteen minutes later he still wasn’t back, so my mum and I took the car and went prowling down the street searching for Raja and Bharath. First we couldn’t find him everywhere so my panic-stricken mum called Piyamma who told us the route he usually took (he did this almost every night). And sure enough there was a sweaty, panting Bharath at the end of a side street but no sign of the little terror. Apparently, he was inside a private house and when he finally came out, he ran like the wind.

By this time my mother was getting really angry. My aunt asked us to leave the dog and go home cause he’d eventually come back in the morning. But my mother was not going to let go. “I’m going to slap that little rascal!” she screamed and lunged for Raja. But he was too quick and ran away. Finally Bharath caught him and we put him in the car. He sat on Bharath’s lap (at this point looking disgusted cos the dog had peed again during the chase), throughout the journey, looking extremely smug with himself with amma still trying to slap him instead of driving.

We brought him home and as we saw my mum chasing Raja around the house with the watchman’s lathi, we saw Priyamma standing at the door. “There’s a frog in my room and I can’t sleep”, she said. So we were in her room next and there it was. “Chakkas, dog pee…now this,” Bharath muttered .The little bugger was on the TV wire and too damn fast for us…finally amma came in satisfied for having ‘whacked’ Raja (she later admitted that she didn’t use the stick and only tapped him on the side with her hand) and when she saw us struggling with the amphibian said “You still haven’t caught it? Give me the cloth; I’ll do it…Honestly!” She was certainly on a roll now cos in seconds the frog was in a cloth and out of the house.

The ride back home was weirder than usual, my mum and I laughing about Bharath’s little encounter and Bharath still wondering if the smell of dog pee/drool/stink would ever leave him…

RANDOM THOUGHTS.......

2006-03-18T06:28:00.000-08:00

Have you ever stared at yourself in the mirror for so long that your reflection (your face) breaks down into shapes…..then blobs and soon you’re staring at one big blob……

I’m feeling particularly bleh today. A lot of people don’t really understand when I say bleh (some people think it’s a weird way of spelling blah)….actually bleh is kinda like blah…..its a mixture of the word ‘blah’ and ‘meh’…..and technically you feel bleh when you feel like there’s nothing to do…..but at the same time feel like there are a million things you need to do……

I’m bored off my ass right now……but at the back of my mind I have a billion things I can think of doing….like studying for instance…..but do I actually study? No. I’ll sit around….go annoy B who’ll scream ‘Leave me alone!’

I’ve been annoying B a lot lately….he’s writing his board exams…and he’s already stressed…..he relieves these feelings of insecurity and fear of failure by taking it out on me……which means he’ll call me from the other end of the house (I’ll go running to him thinking he needs a physics derivation explained )….and then he’d say… “Smell my hands”…yes. Smell. My. Hands.

Stuff like that just pisses me off…so I retaliate by asking him questions about his exams…. ‘how much do you think you’re going to get?’… ‘how much have you finished?’… ‘how many sums have you done today?’….. I can’t help it…..my mother has crowned me the official ‘doubt solver’ and it’s my sole duty to constantly breathe down his neck…. He asks me to smell his hands… I do this.

So what am I going to do? I’ll probably read a bit….then I’ll watch TV…..then I’ll sleep…. Thinking of TV reminds me of two of my favourite TV shows. Frasier and Southpark….I know, what a contrast….

Frasier just appealed to me from the beginning….the characters…the weird humour….My vocabulary’s improved a lot from before I started watching it ( I learnt what teutonic meant and I used phrases like ‘how droll’ with ease) …I used to be into stuff like Friends….but after Frasier, Friends appears almost juvenile (I still watch it….honestly, I’ll watch anything)….

Southpark is totally different. Some of the stuff on it is juvenile but the touch of cynicism to everything is what I like…..but after watching quite a few seasons, I’ve realized it took a big toll on my supposedly superior vocabulary…. I’d react to my friends like ‘dude….you suck!’… And I’d say things like ‘Things will eventually get better, m’kay?’

V introduced me to that show….he’s the best. V’s one of those extremely smart, thoughtful kids….got everything right. Or so I thought. Had a little chat last week...with his girlfriend. It was her birthday last week and I asked her what V had bought her. ‘Oh I don’t know...umm…’ apparently he did buy her something…here’s how their conversation probably went:

V: Hey S! What do you think of a conch with holes in it such that its also a flute??

S: Huh?.... I dunno…..I’m not really into showpieces…kinda useless aren’t they?

V: Oh crap….

And this wasn’t the first time he’d screwed up either…. This was how it went last year..

V: Hey do you like the movies Psycho and The Graduate?

S: Ummm….they’re alright I guess…..but they aren’t my favourite movies….

V: Oh great…..

What made him think his girlfriend would want a movie about a psychotic killer or a boy’s tryst with an old woman on her birthday? Why couldn’t he have just asked her……?

Kinda digressed didn’t I? anyway V got me into Southpark….

Hmmm….. I’m easily influenced but I love that show… and speaking of funny shit, yesterday I did something really funny. N and I went online and did the whole Karaoke thing. We sang classics like ‘I will survive’ and ‘unchained melody’ and also crap like Kelly Clarkson… A was clearly embarrassed and did not join in…..giving us ‘what the hell are you doing?’ looks…. But it was a lot of fun….and we did little solos…..at the end of the day my voice sounded like strangled raccoon....

Ok that’s it…..you’re probably as bored as I am right now…..

And no, I was not stoned while writing this……

50 questions with answers nobody really cares about...

2006-03-14T00:21:00.000-08:00

ok anna...this is for you..

Time of starting? 8.45 pm

1. Were you named after anyone? Nope….that’s what my mum says although there are 50 Lakshmi’s in my family

2. Do you wish on stars? No

3. When did you last cry? Last Wednesday

4. Do you like your handwriting? Yes. I think its legible and quite neat….well, most of the time!

5. What is your favourite meat? I don’t eat meat….

6. What is your most embarrassing CD on your shelf? In the cupboard…Backstreetboys…yes I used to be a huge fan when I was 12…bleh

7. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? Maybe…but I’d probably annoy the hell out of me…

8. Are you a daredevil? Nope……I wouldn’t do something crazy just to prove a point but I could be gutsy when I’m motivated…

9. How do you release anger? I do it slowly…..my anger has stages…cos its pretty hard to get me mad….so stage 1: my ears go red (people who know me take this as a warning sign…and most of them back off…I was called Ron Weasley at school!)

stage 2: my face gets red… and I start counting to 10…slowly…

stage 3: If that doesn’t help…..I start drinking copious amounts of water….and then people know I’m upset…

stage 4: It never reaches this stage but when it does….I lash out….

10. Where is your second home? CP street (paati’s house)

11. Do you trust others easily? No…..I openly admit that I have trust issues

12. What was your favourite toy as a child? A little doll which peed when water was out in its mouth…..and I played a lot with my brother’s toys….a yellow dumptruck

13. What class in school/college do you think is totally useless? EVS….

14. Do you use sarcasm a lot? No! How could I of all people be asked that question? Ok seriously I’ve taken sarcasm to a whole new level at college….and someone compared me to Chandler Bing! I was not happy…..

15. Have you ever been in a mosh pit? Yeah….once.

16. What do you look for in a guy/girl? Smart, funny, nice personality….has to be slightly sensible….but also kinda quirky….ok I could go on about this forever…

17. Would you bungee jump? sure

18. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No…it takes too much of time…

19. What's your favourite ice cream? Chocolate…

20. What are your favourite colours? Blue…green….

21. What are your least favourite things? Idiots who think they know everything, shallow people, burnt gyms, mosquitoes, power cuts early in the morning, cockroaches, lizards (had a bad incident where two ran up my leg…frogs I don’t mind), weird self-improvement books, hip hop stars called chingy and blingy…

22. How many people do you have a crush on right now? There are umm…people, but famous people…Orlando Bloom, Jude Law, Adam Brody (Don’t think I’m weird…he’s the best!)….Viggo Mortensen, Chris Martin, Joaquin Phoenix, Ben Stiller…..ok I don’t know if I have a ‘crush’ on them…but I like them…..

23. Who do you miss most right now? Vishnu…

24. What are you listening to right now? Cricket commentary…will soon become football….appa’s home…

25. If you were a crayon, what colour would you be? Dark blue….

26. What is the weather like right now? Sort of cool…… but also humid….

27. Last person you talked to on the phone? Friend from college

28. The "first" thing you notice about the opposite sex? I guess the way he looks (his smile), talks and I also notice ‘what’ he talks about and also the way he interacts with other people…..

29. Do you like the person who sent you this? Of course….she’ll kill me if I say otherwise….but yeah she’s nice….she’s a whiner….but nice J

30. How are you today? I’m alright….

31. Favourite non alcoholic drink? I like tea….

32. Favourite alcoholic drink? Rum n’ coke….don’t mind vodka…..

33. Natural hair colour? Can’t say black…..brownish black…

34. Eye colour? Dark brown…..

35. Wear contacts? Nope…

36. Siblings? Yep….an older brother and a younger one….I’m the middle child!

37. Favourite month? April….I laze around a lot that month

38. Favourite food? Rasam sadham…..potato curry….pizza….I’m ok with anything except thai….can’t stand thai food!

39. Favourite day of the year? January 1^st….or December 31^st..one of those days..

40. Have you ever been too shy to ask someone out? Yes…I would never do that….it’s just not in me….

41. Scary movies or happy endings? Good scary movies (like The Exorcist and The Shining)……and non-soppy happy endings…

42. Summer or winter? Summer….with Madras’ sea- breeze….much easier to deal with…

43. Do you want your friends to write back? Umm….I’m not tagging anybody…

44. Who is most likely to respond? Look at no. 43

45. What book/magazine are you reading? Right now A Time to Kill…was reading eragon before that…..pretty disappointing.,…

46. What's on your mouse pad? Umm…my mouse….

47. What did you watch on TV last night? Frasier….

48. Favourite Smell? Nice food in the kitchen, petrol, that ‘new’ smell you get from clothes and books that you’ve just bought…Bath and body works’ body splash…forgot the actual scent…basil something?

49. Have you ever regretted breaking up with someone? I don’t think I will…

50. Most tiresome thing you’ve ever experienced/done? The Business journal for college…..the magazine came out good, but in the process I ended up food deprived (didn’t eat after breakfast till 10 pm), sleep deprived (slept at 3… got up at 7.30 which forced me to take a little nap at the printers’) and I didn’t bathe….the whole day! That was horrible…..

Time of finishing? 9:14 pm

RACISM

2006-03-13T06:42:00.000-08:00

RACISM…..its everywhere whether you could like it or not…you could be a victim of it….you could be the racist….it’s something that has been there forever and it’s something that will probably never die out…no matter how forward thinking our world becomes.

If you must know what brought on that particular thought… yeah, you guessed it right…I watched CRASH (it deserved all the Oscars it got…) today. And it was amazing…..one of those films that makes you sit up and actually think, you know? Not many movies do that to me….

During the mid-80’s in a city in the UK, an Indian woman got onto a bus with her sister-in-law. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, just minding her own business…I don’t think she even sat down. Next thing she knows a white guy approaches her with a knife, spits on her face, calls her a ‘dirty Paki’ and asks her to get off the bus. That woman was my mother and that’s what she had to face when we lived there… Twenty years later it’s practically the same story.

It could be mild….like calling somebody Nigger or Chink or Paki….or it could be terrible like killing someone just because they look different. It’s almost frustrating….why do people do this? Because they feel better about themselves when they put down other people? And a lot of the time, whoever’s facing it ignores it and gradually accepts it.

Even India has a slightly toned down version of racism. Ok, maybe its not racism….but colour-consciousness. Parents always want fair brides for their sons…people are treated better if they’re on the fairer side. Beauty products like have got girls conscious of their skin…and what’s even worse is they’ve got men feeling the same way (thanks to fuck all products like fair and lovely and fair and handsome). In fact I had a friend who said girls treated her differently in her previous school because she was dark. I’m not an extremely fair person myself and I’ve heard people telling my mother this quite a few times:

“You’re so fair….why is your daughter dark? Are you letting her go out in the sun too much?”

What kind of a stupid, juvenile, medieval question is that, now? When I first heard people say that, it kind of hurt. And that’s when I was told that people said stuff like that because they were plagued by their own insecurities….

What can be done about this? Why are people judged on how they look instead of who the person is and what they’re actually about? Why do people have pre-conceived notions of people solely judged on the way they look? If he’s black, he’s automatically a gangster, if he’s Indian/Pakistani/Bangladeshi/East Asian, he has to be a terrorist…nothing can be done until people change their attitude towards this….and who knows when that’s going to happen (considering I heard someone call a black person ‘negro’ very recently)… And coming back to crash, it ended on a totally realistic note (an aspect my friend who came with me didn’t like ) because the people who were good got fucked at the end of the day and the people who weren’t got a second chance…….. and things just stayed the way they were: a country filled with people who are paranoid, angry and just plain scared.

On a lighter note, I just saw the end of Meet the Fockers( I love Ben Stiller!)…I liked the first one better…but it was just so funny….the weird humping everything in sight dog, the kid who’s first word was ASS- hole…..Dustin Hoffman and Barbara Streisand wanting to Fockerise everybody….god they remind me of my family….they’re just crazy! But that’s a whole new story….

TO TIRUPATI AND BACK

2006-02-27T04:48:00.000-08:00

On Friday morning, I didn’t know I was going on a journey…everybody else in my family was going to Tirupati (B has his 12^th boards)and this was my one chance to be alone…..and I wanted to be, so it was ok….although my brother kept begging me to come saying it wouldn’t be the same without me (absolute bollocks, by the way) I said no. so off I went for my last exam, thinking by the time I got home I’ll be in a nice, empty house….the exam started 15 min late….and I got out pretty late too….checked out my phone to see I had 8 missed calls…all from my mother…so I called her…..and she says ‘oh B wanted you to come and V’s coming straight from Hosur …and they wanted me to come….so we could be a family…they were waiting outside for half an hour, waiting for me to come out so that they could say ‘surprise’….except, I didn’t really want to go, and then they asked me if the reason I wasn’t coming had to do with some guy (do they even know me?) then they apologized for waiting (which made me feel like crap) and then they fed me lines like “We really really want you to come, but its your choice” …..so after A LOT of fussing and rather unruly packing (my mum said she’d done it…but I like doing MY packing and at a leisurely pace) I was cooped in the car with an already irate father (he hates starting late…and we were 3 hrs off-schedule thanks to me), my mother who was trying to get me out of my terrible mood….and my brother who frankly never looked happier…

The roads were terrible….my father’s road rage was at its peak. His amazing mix of typically English and Tamil swear words (tosser, wanker, TP etc) brought out a lovely colour in him, we had to listen to his music {(Richard Marx [bleh, he’s always singing about how he’s always jilted (read: Shouldv’ve known better, than to fall in love with you, now my love is just a faded memory]), Tubular Bells (Instrumental, in a Beethoven meets The X-files sorta way), 10 cc (soppy/ weird band with lyrics like ;I’m not in love, don’t forget, it’s just a funny phase that I’m going through)}…and we reached the hotel half an hour late.

The hotel was ok, and after a weird dinner (the waiter actually discouraged us from ordering starters) we went back for a disturbed sleep….and at 3 in the morning we get a truly ‘blessed’ call telling us the taxi was here….then V came which made it even more difficult to sleep….the taxi took us the bottom of the mountain…and then IT began. But it wasn’t that bad, cos it was the 4^th time I was climbing and I was more fit than I was the last time….but there was still the ‘how much longer’…’oh my god, these steps look like they’re going on forever!’…..’Holy crap!’ etc…. my older brother on the other hand, had a lot of cramps, muscle seizures, ailments just short of a fracture me thinks.

We finally got there at around 9.15….two hours 45 minutes of intense cardio which I wouldn’t have been facing if I was at home V and B got their heads shaved, I made it better by making profound statements like “I never knew your skull was shaped like this” and “Ooh so round” and my mother threatened to get her head shaved as well (you could see my father visibly paling cos she’d done this before and he spent the rest of that year rubbing castor oil on her head) Then came the darshan .my father had a friend who ‘knew’ some people and we went through some corridor, V and I discussed life, who were the current screw balls and sluts of Madras, befriended a little bald baby…and suddenly, there we were. Inside, looking at the big man himself….Venkateswara. And it was beautiful. Its hard to explain….but in spite of all the pushing, its just really nice when you’re finally facing him. I stood there for 30 seconds, then turned around when the ‘person’ who my father knew turned me around for a second look. Then all hell, broke loose. Some dude with a badge (which had a TTD stamp on it) started screaming at me for no reason. “Get out! You’ve seen him for so long….that’s more than people will see in a lifetime! Leave!” nice way to ruin the moment huh? And you know what; he didn’t even say ‘jaragandi’….

The journey back was more chilled out cos my mum and V were driving but was also extremely anxious ( I’d committed to a reporting assignment when I thought I was staying back and it was at 6 in the evening)…..there was a lot of traffic and it was already 6 when we were only at Nandanam. I was getting extremely stressed by this time which usually means I get extremely quirky; this time involved me singing Candy shop- 50 cent and Cococobana- Barry Manilow (I know, what a contrast) in a hi-pitched voice with a really fast tempo…

So I got back home at 6.15 changed and left for the assignment which was the Panchtatva concert. It was amazing, except I ruined it for myself by shifting every 5 seconds (my legs felt like they were going to break off from the rest of my aching body)….a day later, my legs still feel a little wobbly…But hey I climbed over 6000 steps (or were they 7000? Or 6500?) and walked a heck of a lot…..so cut me some slack!

MY OWN

2006-02-16T02:22:00.000-08:00

Ok, maybe my last blog was a little more intense than usual….but it was something I just really felt like writing about. I got shit at college today for writing what I wrote…..but you know what? It’s my blog so I’ll write what I want to write…..and I know I probably sound like a loser when I rant….but it’s my choice to rant….so if you don’t wanna read it, don’t! if I want to be bitter I will be bitter….nobody can tell me I can’t feel a certain way…..and valentine’s day is predominantly only for people who are in a romantic relationship ( for those of you who say it’s also about friends and family)…and I happened to feel weird that day, so sue me! And I also must say I might’ve been quiet….but I did not sulk….and if you’d read the blog properly I also had fun that day and it ended very non-bitter, happy and mostly relieved…..so the rest of you piss off! (Now that was certainly non-happy!lol)

A VALENTINE REVELATION

2006-02-15T04:36:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was one of the most annoying days of my life…..and yes, it’s because it was valentine’s day and I realized another year has flitted past with absolutely no romantic interactions with people from the opposite sex….

And I guess I’m ok with that…..until I actually think about it. I have never been in a relationship before. Ever. And all I wanted to do on the 14^th was go through it like a regular day….diss the occasion a little…be my usual, cynical self. But being one of the only people in my group of close friends who’s single, it proved to be more than just a little difficult. I was listening to one person going on about how romantic her boyfriend is…and another one talking about how great it is that “I’m single and should be happy” (easy for her to say considering she’s been seeing somebody for so long they’re practically engaged!). Then one of them wanted to buy gifts…so off we went to the mother of all shops-Lifestyle…..and it was all pink and shit (but this was nothing compared to Ispahani…a place I try avoiding as much as possible…there were red balloons strewn on the floor! However it is a break from the weird and let’s say perverted Christmas decorations they put up (suspended silver balls))

So she bought something…..then another friend bought something……and another…..at the end one of them summed it up “I think we all bought nice gifts today!” and then came THE LOOK….that sympathetic look u get on your face when u see a lost puppy or see someone who’s broken a couple of bones…. “But we still love Lakshmi, don’t we?” she chirped after that rather awkward moment….

It was annoying……and I refused to go for a movie with everybody else (who were going with their better halves)…..and went home to put this day out of its misery……but ta-dah…..the office(I work part-time for a newspaper) called….and I needed to meet the new editor…..so I went there to see…….an office full of red balloons….I mean what about concentrating on work and all, huh? Ok I’m rambling……

By this time……I was feeling worse than blah….and I just wanted to go home…..then Nina called and forced me to go over to her place…..and then we went to the beach…….ate like pigs…..did a considerable amount of people watching…..and then on impulse decided to go to Satyam and watch a movie…..

We ended up watching Four Brothers which was really good….except for the people sitting next to us…. Two guys on my side….and two on Nina’s….normally I have no qualms about sitting next to a stranger…..but these people were….well, you’ll know when I tell u…..the people next to me…they looked innocent enough…at first. When the movie started I realized how wrong I was. If there was something happening on screen that was even remotely funny….they would guffaw loudly and then look at my face and check out my reaction…..to their guffaws or the actual movie remains unknown….then the people sitting next to Nina arrived. Laughing. Giggling like mad hyenas while punctuating their sentences...words…ok every syllable…with the word fuck(read: What the fuck is fucking going on? Etc….hmmm…lovely!) And they seemed high. On red bull! I mean….we were drinking red bull too….but we weren’t behaving like juvenile delinquents!

So after that I finally went home. Watched Frasier and had dinner. Then I heard someone say, ‘Aren’t you sick of today?’…it was Bharath, my also single brother……and then we had a conversation about the sappiness of the holiday. And then we or at least I realized….maybe I was just bitter….maybe if I was with someone….I’d be as sappy as everybody else.

Then what I’d been putting off in my mind for a while now, came pouring back in.

I’ve been on this god-forsaken earth for 19 years now…..

I’ve never had a boyfriend…..

Is there something wrong with me?

Am I gonna die alone?

Do I become a nun?

My mother had her first boyfriend when she was 14….she had several after that….but other than my older brother (who’s in a serious relationship)…Bharath and me….were no shows…..and my family (ok my mum’s family) being them would ask at every family function “Are you seeing somebody? No? Don’t lie! Why?”

And that was the question wasn’t it? Why?

At this point my dad came home from work…and it suddenly hit me. My appa never had a girlfriend till he was 21! (and this was someone who grew up in England, so that’s something!) My mother was his first proper relationship (well, it had to be…they were getting married weren’t they?) So my older brother took after my mother while we have taken after our father. Suddenly things don’t seem too bad anymore.

My father waited. And he found my mother. And maybe if I just wait, soon enough I’ll find someone just as amazing as both of them.

THERE AND BACK AGAIN

2006-02-10T08:11:00.000-08:00

Today, I ventured into the beyond…..I have officially ‘slummed it’.....I went for an assignment at the Chennai Trade Centre today, and I took the train….all alone! Ok, fine this might not be a big deal to many of you….but I’ve never been known as someone who is independent so it is to me!

I had to take a share auto to the station….then a train to Guindy and then another share auto the actual place. First thing for me was finding the station…..thankfully a helpful policeman showed me the way just before he was almost steamrolled by a bus thus making his directions kinda sketchy (read: Oh, the railway station…just opposite the road ma…just…donkey! Don’t you have any sense (kazhidai! Arrivu illai?)).So off I went to the station, bought a ticket…asked people which platform the train was going to arrive on (which was pretty funny considering there were only two platforms). Then I took the share auto to the place only to find myself finishing the interview and whatever I had to do in 15 minutes! It was an exhibition for printers (yawn)…but it was pretty snazzy. Anyway, I finished my thing and headed back home….first the auto to the station…then the long wait I had to buy my return ticket waiting in a 20 minute queue in the hot sun (honestly the railways have no consideration for us lesser mortals and I’m sure they would actually prefer it if we burn).

It was at the Guindy station did I notice just how unclean, contaminated, unhygienic and grimy stations really are. For starters the rich, rust coloured paan stains in every corner one can find at the station is sure to give Asian paints a run for their money (I mean, why paint the station at all? Just make people spit everywhere and all the stations would become a reddish brown paradise.)

I also noticed the nonsense that found a place on the railway tracks…For your benefit, I shall list them out:

1. Litter-The usual crap…pet bottles, tetra-packs (containing fruity, appy and so on), napkins, paper….nothing new.

2. Shoes- Now how does this happen? Most of the time, it’s only one lonesome shoe sitting sadly on the tracks….searching for its solemate (get it….SOLEmate? Ok I’ll stop…moving on)…but really I’m actually wondering if people attempt free kicks near the tracks, or attempt synchronized dancing or do they just want to get to get rid of their shoes and find the track the place to do it?

3. Spit, Vomit- And by that I don’t mean paan…but actual saliva….welcome to gross city! I actually heard snatches of a conversation between two women on whether they needed to spit again or not….honest!

I would go on….but I can’t because I don’t want to see what I ate for lunch again.

Forty five minutes later, I was back. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. People are pretty helpful even though they give you ‘what are YOU doing here?’ looks...and I felt proud, adventurous….almost frugal. Sure by the time I got back home I’d lost my appetite, but at the end of the day I felt more sure of myself…I felt independent!

A TAKE OFF ON NINA'S BLOG(sorry nina!)

2006-02-07T04:37:00.000-08:00

Nina posted two blogs…one on dancing and one on first impressions…. I thought I could do a take off on both……starting with the first DANCING….. It’s not something I’m just bad at…it’s just something I’m terrible at! I have no sense of co-ordination…..and even though I can tolerate the aches and pains most of the time (can’t tolerate it now though…cos I look like a victim of physical abuse for reasons that cannot be named)….. I just can’t seem to move properly….at all! Anyway Nina…..am not taking part in any dance competition after this….if you think YOU aren’t cut out for it…… then I for one shouldn’t have even been there in the first place….and let’s just say I looked lost and out of place on stage…with a permanent “What am I doing here?” look on my face…..anyway…we lost…..but I really don’t give a shit….the only thing is now I look like I should be in a hip hop video cos my hair looks like bling! Yep…all shiny…..and pretty scary…..already washed my hair once……. But it’s not coming off…must get it off…. I really don’t want my hair looking like 50 cent’s teeth (or neck…or ears…or whatever..he’s covered in bling) tomorrow…

The next one was about first impressions…..one of my more distinctive flaws is that I’m pretty judgmental…..especially the first time I meet someone… I know that’s bad….but what can I say…the way a person carries themselves the first time I meet them, leaves a mark on me….. but for the record…most of the time…. I’m wrong.

Here are some of the first impressions I got from people who are now close to me….

Sara: Then: I thought she was ingratiating….you know….annoyingly perky….and I thought she was quite a snob because she had a weird accent….

Now: One of my closest friends….. we practically know what we’re thinking before we say it out loud…. still extremely perky….but I guess she made me open up more cos she never cared about what anyone thought(I made the first of many prank phonecalls with her)…. I’ve learnt to look past the accent (which she says is non-existent) and still take her trip because of it!

Sana: Then: I thought she was extremely hip and I actually thought she was one of those “I talk only in hindi” types….

Now: One of my best friends…..she in fact sucked at hindi more than I did (which is a great feat cos I really sucked!)….and she wasn’t as HIP as I thought she was (she’s dead clumsy( who else could get chewing gum stuck on their bare foot at a temple)….but just happens to have an amazing dress sense)….one friend who would never judge me and would always be there no matter what….someone I can laugh at/with…..

Divya: Then: Met her at college….thought she was extremely smart and sensible….like you know…almost too sensible…

Now: Well I was almost right about her….except about the ‘too sensible’ part…..she’s also really funny! My only friend who has a happy song she made up herself….and person who’d cut through all the crap and ask you what you really think….oh and I think I’ve cried to her about a lot of stuff a billion times….can tell her anything

Nina: Then: Ah Nina…..first I thought she was phirang….then I thought she was maaru….then I found out she was a model and that kind of put me off….. ok I thought she was pretty weird….she wore pink like all the time, ok?

Now: Never thought I’d be friends with her….let alone be close friends to her…. I learnt that models were also smart people…and she has taught me to look nicer? Umm…..ok let’s say she’s taught me to look more ‘put together’….actually I think I’ve transformed her! I’m proud to say she does not wear matching outfits (read: pink salwar, pink earrings, pink slippers…complete with pink-ish make up!)…. Now she’s as big a slob as I am….. and her nerdiness gives me a run for my money!

OK just realized I’m close to a lot of people……will continue this after a week….but the bottom line is I was wrong about almost everyone…..and that doesn’t say much…does it?

And do you wanna know what most people thought of me the first time they met me……they thought I was a paavum…nerdy....overly responsible girl…..and you know what? They were right….

CRINGE-WORTHY "SONGS"

2006-02-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

This is my first blog…I promised myself I’d never be a blogger…ever. It’s something that takes too much time and too much effort…but here I am…bored to death from watching VH1(read: The Fabulous Life of Celebrity Wives….and since I’m sick and tired of hearing…”And this woman who was a stripper from Malibu….now sports a 15 billion dollar engagement ring and has people to tweeze her nose hair (or whatever)”..here I am)

Ok….for my first blog is going to be a normal thing….nothing controversial…but let's say my mornings (if people actually consider 5.30 am “morning”) at the gym with my mum and dad got me thinking abouth this....

The thing is they play this one particular CD, compiled by my father while we huff, puff, wheeze at times…..and most of the songs are nice…old stuff….and then it reaches to a particular song which makes me groan inwardly and on particularly wheezy days makes me wanna hurl…if you thought it was gonna be Britney Spears or whatever people know I hate…you’re wrong. It’s “The Reason” by Hoobastank….

I used to like the song…thought it was quite likeable…..till it became “their” song. For some reason my dad got hooked onto the song….and would play it replay it till I wanted to tear my hair out….but then it was at least bearable….but then my mum listened to it….and that’s when it happened….”The Reason” became their song…and the reason for that I don’t really know….after that….they would giggle like school girls and keep stealing glances at each other whenever the song was played….once I saw them trying to hold hands (my mother walks at a higher speed) when they were both on their treadmills…and one day to my horror I caught them slow-dancing in the weight room! In front of everybody….who thought it was ‘cute’…I for one pretended not to know them and backed out of the room asap cringing….

I know many couples have ‘songs’….my aunt and uncle’s song is “Sacrifice” by Elton John…and that’s quite sweet…it’s an old song…but I really don’t understand how some couples have these songs as “their songs” For example an excerpt from yellow...a very popular "couples' song"

Coldplay- Yellow

Your skin…oh yeah your skin and bones…

Turn into something beautiful

You know…for you I’d bleed myself dry…

Romantic huh?

Don’t get me wrong I love coldplay and yellow is one of my favourite songs…but would you really want this played at your wedding?

Some people have “stand by me” by oasis….another one of my fav songs…..but look at how it begins….”made a meal and threw it up on Sunday…I got a lot of things to learn”

So that’s all for now….comment if you want to….hope it wasn’t too boring

WARNING: I tend to ramble a lot…get used to it.