I wrote this poem at work when I was a shipping executive and the stars in my eyes over a period of time merely became the lights from that colourless office which shone bright...
This job that i don't enjoy
The Dream:
Am in a job I thought I would like
And one that would appeal to my psyche.
I thought it would take me places literally and figuratively,
And would enhance my potential positively.
I thought I would do some extensive travel...
The mysteries of shipping I wuld unravel.
From Trainee to President I would rise
Albeit for the success I would pay the price!
Perhaps a few enemies I would make,
And a lot of stress in life i would have to take.
But in the end, I would make it to the top
And be someone to reckon with -- a true daughter of my Pop!
The Reality:
Am in a job that I now actually dislike
And that does some serious damage to my psche.
It has taken me absolutely nowehere
And has chased my high spirits away to...I don't know where!
It has led me to suffer severe stagnation,
And has begun to leave little hope of any salvation.
I have visited places only on a personal level;
More towards home and hobbies my mind has begun to swivel!
From Trainee to Officer I have progressed-
Though in my 'personal achievements' I have sadly regressed,
I am feeling very much a failure nowadays...
I may be hard on myself now ... maybe it is just a phase.
Few real friends have been made, some acquaintances gained-
Career-wise, dithering away uselessly -- about this, am pained.
Sure I could be making a mountain out of a molehill,
But that is because I have a lot of time here at work to kill!
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Idle Thoughts
Idle Thought 1: Not that am going to have a tombstone, but I think I might want mine to read: "In hindsight..." It sums up my understanding of most things. All real knowledge about people, events, things, comes 'in hindsight'!
Idle Thought 2: The world would be a better place if we could spend every weekend with our favourite people doing what we like to do best whether it is eating, lazing, partying, chatting or playing games like pictionary...
Idle Thought 3: Giving advice for me is NOT like a piece of cake because I would not want to part with THAT, whereas advice...hey! Need any?:)
As you can see, present status: IDLE
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Road-bummers
This morning at around 9.30 a.m., I met with around 40-50 morons. All in one shot. Yes, they were all driving westward bound on St. Mary's Road. They had formed at least 4 parallel lanes of which 3 were unauthorised. Poor me, going eastward on St. Mary's Road as usual and was suddenly confronted head-on by 4 lanes of vehicles acting like no rules existed.
Bah. Being a lone woman driver and afraid for myself(and not for any nobler reason), I steered clear of expletives but insisted on asking them with angry, wild gestures "WHAT in the world ARE you doing?". At one point, I was quite unnerved because I was the only car facing the 'right' way on my side of the road, while all the rest in front of me were facing me and trying to bully me to go...where, I don't really know. Where was the space? Suddenly I wondered whether this road had been made a one-way overnight or something. I took heart in the fact that there was a possibility I was right, since some vehicles were right behind me.
(Imagine, they had me doubting my rule-abiding senses!)
I tried to nudge through aggressively and am quite surprised how no one bumped or scratched me. Sheer good luck, I tell you.
Then, I finally decided I could not beat them -- the rogues! So, I swung extreme left and managed to get out of that quagmire of morons and shot out of there like a bat out of hell (Hah! always wanted to use that bat expression!).
I spotted a policeman further down and asked him what the heck was going on and whether the road was a one way to which he said nope. So, I was even more indignant and told him to go sort out the chaos. Thankfully, he understood my frustration. (In chennai, you cannot ask for more, usually.)
Mildly satisfied with dispensing a piece of advice to a cop, I belligerently ignored the red light and the waiting motorists whose green signal it was, and swung into a lane leading to my destination,
secure in the knowledge that no one was going to pull me up after what I had been through.
Nobody did.:)
Cheers.
Bah. Being a lone woman driver and afraid for myself(and not for any nobler reason), I steered clear of expletives but insisted on asking them with angry, wild gestures "WHAT in the world ARE you doing?". At one point, I was quite unnerved because I was the only car facing the 'right' way on my side of the road, while all the rest in front of me were facing me and trying to bully me to go...where, I don't really know. Where was the space? Suddenly I wondered whether this road had been made a one-way overnight or something. I took heart in the fact that there was a possibility I was right, since some vehicles were right behind me.
(Imagine, they had me doubting my rule-abiding senses!)
I tried to nudge through aggressively and am quite surprised how no one bumped or scratched me. Sheer good luck, I tell you.
Then, I finally decided I could not beat them -- the rogues! So, I swung extreme left and managed to get out of that quagmire of morons and shot out of there like a bat out of hell (Hah! always wanted to use that bat expression!).
I spotted a policeman further down and asked him what the heck was going on and whether the road was a one way to which he said nope. So, I was even more indignant and told him to go sort out the chaos. Thankfully, he understood my frustration. (In chennai, you cannot ask for more, usually.)
Mildly satisfied with dispensing a piece of advice to a cop, I belligerently ignored the red light and the waiting motorists whose green signal it was, and swung into a lane leading to my destination,
secure in the knowledge that no one was going to pull me up after what I had been through.
Nobody did.:)
Cheers.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Qs and my As
I copied this idea and list of Qs from my newest favourite blog, www.shyamram.blogspot.com. I also love answering questions like this if only for myself... gives me the importance I think I deserve;)
1.)Q. Can you cook?
1.)A. Yes. But dislike cleaning up after myself...in the kitchen.
2.)Q. What was your dream growing up?
2.)A. To fly, become a pilot; which I did but not exactly the way I wanted, since today, am not a ‘professional pilot’.
3.)Q. What talent do you wish you had?
3.)A. Bit of talent in many things, which does not quite cut it. Wish I were better at outdoor activities – inclination and skill-wise too.
4.)Q. Favorite place?
4.)A. My Bedroom
5.)Q. Favorite vegetable?
5.)A. Colocasia or arbi or cheppankazhangu (all mean the same)
6.)Q. What was the last book you read?
6.)A. Why can’t I remember the name? Although do remember story and the author’s name. Very light and vetti (jobless) read.
7.)Q. What zodiac sign are you ?
7.)A. Scorpio but am sure am weirder than most.
8.)Q. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings?
8.)A. Pierced ears. Tattoos? Ugh.
9.)Q. Worst Habit?
9.)A. Many, am sure… two top the list -- procrastination and nail biting.
10.)Q. If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
10.)A. Only if I know you and like you, or if you are a lost child below 5 years –can’t bear the thought of lost children and what they may come to – I would desperately want to return you to your oh-so-desperate mom.
11.)Q. What is your favorite sport?
11.)A. Have not one but I do like to swim (though I don’t often), play badminton or snooker, if I get the company. Just don’t care for watching sports.
12.)Q. Negative or Optimistic attitude?
12.)A. Mixed. Sometimes this and sometimes that.
13.)Q. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
13.)A. Depends on who you are. But unless you are a gallant, hero-ish kind of person, I would panic big time. Scared of elevators.
14.)Q. Worst thing to ever happen to you?
14.)A. Dad’s death.
15.)Q. Tell me one weird fact about you:
15.)A. Too many. Just one of them, not necessarily the worst, is that I must check if sleeping people (especially children) are breathing normally.
16.)Q. Do have any pets?
16.)A. Not currently
17.)Q. Do u know how to do the macarena?
17.)A. I know how to do ‘a’ Macarena.
18.)Q. What time is it where you are now?
18.)A. 12.15 p.m.
19.)Q. Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
19.)A. Neither. Just not very impressed with them unless they are VERY funny.
20.)Q. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be???
20.)A. Size and hair! Oh, only one thing? Then size;) And I can change it but it will take a lot and am not YET up to it.(looks like!)
21.)Q. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
21.)A. Conscience but only if I HAVE to. I don't care to partner much.
22.)Q. What color eyes do you have?
22.)A. Brown
23.)Q. Ever been arrested?
23.)A. No and don’t ever want to be!
24.)Q. Bottle or Draft (draught)?
24.)A. Don’t know the difference except that I do know there is a difference.
25.)Q. If you won $10,000 dollars today, what would you do with it?
25.)A. Spend some, give away some, save some.
26.)Q. What kind of bubble gum do you prefer to chew?
26.)A. Don’t like the habit at all. Except if am in desperate need of a mouth freshener in which case, strawberry.
27.)Q. What 's your favorite bar to hang at?
27.)A. It’s the people I bother about when it comes to hanging out, not the place.
28.)Q. Do you believe in ghosts?
28.)A. Why?! Is there one here??? Quick, stay close to me and we can try to scare it away together.
29.)Q. Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
29.)A. Workout or do yoga and meditation. HA. Who am I kidding? No, I like to read, watch TV, spend time in front of computer.
30.)Q. Do you swear a lot?
30.)A. Yes. And I usually vow to myself to swear less each time after I just finish swearing.
31.)Q. Biggest pet peeve?
31.)A. I don’t get a reasonable amount of space and time to myself.
32.)Q. In one word, how would you describe yourself?
32.)A. Nice (basically).
33.)Q. Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
33.)A. No, sorry, you do it yourself and let me know how / where I can read it.
1.)Q. Can you cook?
1.)A. Yes. But dislike cleaning up after myself...in the kitchen.
2.)Q. What was your dream growing up?
2.)A. To fly, become a pilot; which I did but not exactly the way I wanted, since today, am not a ‘professional pilot’.
3.)Q. What talent do you wish you had?
3.)A. Bit of talent in many things, which does not quite cut it. Wish I were better at outdoor activities – inclination and skill-wise too.
4.)Q. Favorite place?
4.)A. My Bedroom
5.)Q. Favorite vegetable?
5.)A. Colocasia or arbi or cheppankazhangu (all mean the same)
6.)Q. What was the last book you read?
6.)A. Why can’t I remember the name? Although do remember story and the author’s name. Very light and vetti (jobless) read.
7.)Q. What zodiac sign are you ?
7.)A. Scorpio but am sure am weirder than most.
8.)Q. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings?
8.)A. Pierced ears. Tattoos? Ugh.
9.)Q. Worst Habit?
9.)A. Many, am sure… two top the list -- procrastination and nail biting.
10.)Q. If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
10.)A. Only if I know you and like you, or if you are a lost child below 5 years –can’t bear the thought of lost children and what they may come to – I would desperately want to return you to your oh-so-desperate mom.
11.)Q. What is your favorite sport?
11.)A. Have not one but I do like to swim (though I don’t often), play badminton or snooker, if I get the company. Just don’t care for watching sports.
12.)Q. Negative or Optimistic attitude?
12.)A. Mixed. Sometimes this and sometimes that.
13.)Q. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
13.)A. Depends on who you are. But unless you are a gallant, hero-ish kind of person, I would panic big time. Scared of elevators.
14.)Q. Worst thing to ever happen to you?
14.)A. Dad’s death.
15.)Q. Tell me one weird fact about you:
15.)A. Too many. Just one of them, not necessarily the worst, is that I must check if sleeping people (especially children) are breathing normally.
16.)Q. Do have any pets?
16.)A. Not currently
17.)Q. Do u know how to do the macarena?
17.)A. I know how to do ‘a’ Macarena.
18.)Q. What time is it where you are now?
18.)A. 12.15 p.m.
19.)Q. Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
19.)A. Neither. Just not very impressed with them unless they are VERY funny.
20.)Q. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be???
20.)A. Size and hair! Oh, only one thing? Then size;) And I can change it but it will take a lot and am not YET up to it.(looks like!)
21.)Q. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
21.)A. Conscience but only if I HAVE to. I don't care to partner much.
22.)Q. What color eyes do you have?
22.)A. Brown
23.)Q. Ever been arrested?
23.)A. No and don’t ever want to be!
24.)Q. Bottle or Draft (draught)?
24.)A. Don’t know the difference except that I do know there is a difference.
25.)Q. If you won $10,000 dollars today, what would you do with it?
25.)A. Spend some, give away some, save some.
26.)Q. What kind of bubble gum do you prefer to chew?
26.)A. Don’t like the habit at all. Except if am in desperate need of a mouth freshener in which case, strawberry.
27.)Q. What 's your favorite bar to hang at?
27.)A. It’s the people I bother about when it comes to hanging out, not the place.
28.)Q. Do you believe in ghosts?
28.)A. Why?! Is there one here??? Quick, stay close to me and we can try to scare it away together.
29.)Q. Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
29.)A. Workout or do yoga and meditation. HA. Who am I kidding? No, I like to read, watch TV, spend time in front of computer.
30.)Q. Do you swear a lot?
30.)A. Yes. And I usually vow to myself to swear less each time after I just finish swearing.
31.)Q. Biggest pet peeve?
31.)A. I don’t get a reasonable amount of space and time to myself.
32.)Q. In one word, how would you describe yourself?
32.)A. Nice (basically).
33.)Q. Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
33.)A. No, sorry, you do it yourself and let me know how / where I can read it.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Jolly Walkers
Why in India, at least in Chennai, do walkers do their best not to make eye contact? Ok, they may be complete strangers but one walker will either acknowledge another with a cold stare or furtive glances, or simply by turning away his or her face to avoid any expression.
If someone does decide to overlook these cold-shoulder techniques and smiles at another co-walker, he or she is usually greeted with suspicion -- either a suspicious look or a tentative half-smile which says: SHOULD I be smiling back at you?
I usually appraise a co-walker in the far distance and screw up my eyes in concentration to see if he or she is recognisable. If so, then I quickly think of how to go about saying hi and figure out whether I really want to stop and talk or just pretend to see them in the last moment and quickly say hi, how are you and bye. If I don't know them, so much the better. As I get closer I 'check' him or her out and then decide if I fel like giving him or her more than the one furtive glance (Thiruttu muzhi it is called in Tamil).
'When in Rome...' syndrome, i call it. Don't want to be known as the only whacko who smiles at everyone in sight.
Of course, I need to clarify at this point that I do not really qualify as a 'walker' -- two days does not cut it. But having gone for walks erratically and otherwise for oh so many years, I have observed enough walkers to know better than to smile at co-walkers I don't know.
Mostly cos I hate it when my smile is not returned!
If someone does decide to overlook these cold-shoulder techniques and smiles at another co-walker, he or she is usually greeted with suspicion -- either a suspicious look or a tentative half-smile which says: SHOULD I be smiling back at you?
I usually appraise a co-walker in the far distance and screw up my eyes in concentration to see if he or she is recognisable. If so, then I quickly think of how to go about saying hi and figure out whether I really want to stop and talk or just pretend to see them in the last moment and quickly say hi, how are you and bye. If I don't know them, so much the better. As I get closer I 'check' him or her out and then decide if I fel like giving him or her more than the one furtive glance (Thiruttu muzhi it is called in Tamil).
'When in Rome...' syndrome, i call it. Don't want to be known as the only whacko who smiles at everyone in sight.
Of course, I need to clarify at this point that I do not really qualify as a 'walker' -- two days does not cut it. But having gone for walks erratically and otherwise for oh so many years, I have observed enough walkers to know better than to smile at co-walkers I don't know.
Mostly cos I hate it when my smile is not returned!
Weird things
There are people who hang up the phone as you are talking to them, cutting you off in mid-sentence. There are those who don't say hi when they answer the phone and know it is you -- they say "mmm" (HOWW ruuude) and then those who hang up without saying bye.
Also, don't like those who respond to your phone 'hi, are you busy?' with a resigned 'Tell me'. That's lukewarm, to say the least. May as well say 'yes, bit busy..later?'
Then there are those who laugh noiselessly. Worse, there are those who shake their shoulders on pupose while laughing, supposedly to convince others that they are indeed laughing. Annoying habit.
Many hide whatever they are feeling with laughter and happy talk. Heck, I do that myself sometimes.
Then come those who laugh at their own jokes...alone. Nope, I ain't one of them...yet! But the world is getting weirder and weirder by the day that I consider often, of going with the saying: If you can't beat 'em, join 'em'.
Also, don't like those who respond to your phone 'hi, are you busy?' with a resigned 'Tell me'. That's lukewarm, to say the least. May as well say 'yes, bit busy..later?'
Then there are those who laugh noiselessly. Worse, there are those who shake their shoulders on pupose while laughing, supposedly to convince others that they are indeed laughing. Annoying habit.
Many hide whatever they are feeling with laughter and happy talk. Heck, I do that myself sometimes.
Then come those who laugh at their own jokes...alone. Nope, I ain't one of them...yet! But the world is getting weirder and weirder by the day that I consider often, of going with the saying: If you can't beat 'em, join 'em'.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Stand up!
What's the deal with stand up comedy? It seems to be everywhere now. I have always been QUITE interested in watching some acts but it took me rather by surprise (bordering on shock) that one of my friends SERIOUSLY thinks I should try an act of my own. Now, she is quite a wise and knowledgeable woman so when she keeps saying this "You should be a stand up comedian" I am like "REALLLLY?!!" Hmmm. Time for a quick spot of introspection I say...
I know people who are far funnier than I am. Friends and family, in fact. They would be better stand up comedy candidates because of their presentability and flow of speech and wit. Me, I am a bumpkin fraught with stage fear.
(According to some who know me quite well, i only have stage fear until I get up on stage but I cannot take the risk of checking THAT theory out!Not at this RIPE YOUNG age)
So, as many of us weirdos are wont to do, I began imagining it: my act, picturing myself standing up on some bar (I HAVE to be informal, no coat-suit and boot for this ol' gal) but why a bar? Why not on some stage or platform or spotlight-y corner...oh, wait. I know where I got that idea...it's from 'Cocktails', the Tom Cruise movie in which he was at his cutest best and much more than a decade BEFORE he jumped up backwards onto the sofa on Oprah Winfrey's show to proclaim his lovvvve for that Kate (or Katie) woman. Yup, that jump backwards was a jump backwards indeed! Am seriously unsure I will be thrilled with a sissy man wearing too wide a grin proclaiming his lovvve for me.
Men should grin, no doubt. But wickedly or sexily. NOT continuously and gleefully, to say "I LOVVVE her'. At least not in front of so many women. Oprah Winfrey did laugh but am sure that was because of how famous that episode of her show was going to be.
Look, at a poker game with his friends kicking him under the table, yes, a man may allow himself to grin about his LOVVE find. But on TV? With a female talk show host and thousands -- millions of women watching? Ugh. Nothing like starry eyes to take the man out of the manly.
Anyway. Tom Cruise made a real 'Tom Loose' of himself. (Tamil 'loose')
So...where was I? Ah. My idle thought about stand up comedy.
Heck...it remains idle. Too many bozos to compete with.
I know people who are far funnier than I am. Friends and family, in fact. They would be better stand up comedy candidates because of their presentability and flow of speech and wit. Me, I am a bumpkin fraught with stage fear.
(According to some who know me quite well, i only have stage fear until I get up on stage but I cannot take the risk of checking THAT theory out!Not at this RIPE YOUNG age)
So, as many of us weirdos are wont to do, I began imagining it: my act, picturing myself standing up on some bar (I HAVE to be informal, no coat-suit and boot for this ol' gal) but why a bar? Why not on some stage or platform or spotlight-y corner...oh, wait. I know where I got that idea...it's from 'Cocktails', the Tom Cruise movie in which he was at his cutest best and much more than a decade BEFORE he jumped up backwards onto the sofa on Oprah Winfrey's show to proclaim his lovvvve for that Kate (or Katie) woman. Yup, that jump backwards was a jump backwards indeed! Am seriously unsure I will be thrilled with a sissy man wearing too wide a grin proclaiming his lovvve for me.
Men should grin, no doubt. But wickedly or sexily. NOT continuously and gleefully, to say "I LOVVVE her'. At least not in front of so many women. Oprah Winfrey did laugh but am sure that was because of how famous that episode of her show was going to be.
Look, at a poker game with his friends kicking him under the table, yes, a man may allow himself to grin about his LOVVE find. But on TV? With a female talk show host and thousands -- millions of women watching? Ugh. Nothing like starry eyes to take the man out of the manly.
Anyway. Tom Cruise made a real 'Tom Loose' of himself. (Tamil 'loose')
So...where was I? Ah. My idle thought about stand up comedy.
Heck...it remains idle. Too many bozos to compete with.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Happy New Year
Why do we wish each other a HAPPY NEW YEAR? Is it because we were not too thrilled with the year gone back and the next year had BETTER be happy? We are all always after 'happy'. I am a great example of that. Even though a nagging voice tells me that happiness has really to do with me, myself, rather than other people, I continue to happily point fingers at people around me and accuse them of messing with my happiness. Mind you when they actually make me happy, I don't bother mentioning THAT as much. Just generous with the pointing fingers;) (When am happy, I just grunt and grin. When annoyed, I rant and rave. Hey, don't look at ME. Am sure I have something in common with you even if not this particular virtue!;))
So, this new year 2008 had better be happy. Am not pretending to be something I am not...at least not in THIS post anyway; but here goes ...
Let's not ask for the moon.
Speaking of the moon and halos, this new year, let's ask for a lot fewer people to go hungry, let's hope terrorists will kill far fewer innocent people in their quest ...for whatever (hope at least THEY know what they are after!!), hope I become VERY fit and lose flab (ha. i am sure my selfish hope ranks first...for ME!), hope people (ESPECIALLY those i love -- yup selfish again) get HEALTHIER, hope fewer children end up or stay in orphanages, hope fewer marriages break up, hope NO babies and kids suffer and / or die, in fact, hope I don't hear any bad news at all...not just this year but forever!(Ok, now, let me just ask for the moon and get this wishlist over with)...you get the picture.
In my defence, I read in a weird-titled poem in iss-school (titled: SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOT AVAILETH--what the hell IS that supposed to mean!) : "If hopes were dupes, fears would be liars". I have forgotten the meaning but I think it sort of means you can hope all you want since you already are stuck with negativities like fears! Or maybe it means if you have fear, you can have hope too -- the silver lining types.
Whatever.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
So, this new year 2008 had better be happy. Am not pretending to be something I am not...at least not in THIS post anyway; but here goes ...
Let's not ask for the moon.
Speaking of the moon and halos, this new year, let's ask for a lot fewer people to go hungry, let's hope terrorists will kill far fewer innocent people in their quest ...for whatever (hope at least THEY know what they are after!!), hope I become VERY fit and lose flab (ha. i am sure my selfish hope ranks first...for ME!), hope people (ESPECIALLY those i love -- yup selfish again) get HEALTHIER, hope fewer children end up or stay in orphanages, hope fewer marriages break up, hope NO babies and kids suffer and / or die, in fact, hope I don't hear any bad news at all...not just this year but forever!(Ok, now, let me just ask for the moon and get this wishlist over with)...you get the picture.
In my defence, I read in a weird-titled poem in iss-school (titled: SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOT AVAILETH--what the hell IS that supposed to mean!) : "If hopes were dupes, fears would be liars". I have forgotten the meaning but I think it sort of means you can hope all you want since you already are stuck with negativities like fears! Or maybe it means if you have fear, you can have hope too -- the silver lining types.
Whatever.
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Warning! Socialite ahead!
Socialites are sometimes hogging an entire page in newspapers. Ugh! Most of the time, most socialites are up to not much good (and sometimes perhaps up to NO good at all!) so why should they get all the positive attention? They are almost always rich and trying to get famous. Their only claims to fame are coffee mornings and saturday night-outs for which they dress up, apply make up and strut. That's it. What's so noteworthy about that?
If YOU had the money, you could visit the beauty parlour every other day and wear branded clothes, make up and accessories too, right?
I hope not. Perhaps you could stay elegant and well turned out -- sure, but you could also actually do something worthwhile like contributing to businesses (get a job) or better still (since you have the money and the time) help with social causes...all through the same strutting that usually gets you nowhere but an invitation to the next party.
I don't mind being corrected if I am wrong here about socialites in general...willing to listen to any comments that could change the current picture in my mind of empty people. And why are they usually women? WOMEN, this is not good at all. As a woman myself, I must say this is not a feather in this gender's cap. More like a feather in the brain! Ok, perhaps the only use is that these socialites get photographed at some event or restaurant or bar, etc. and thereby bring publicity to that business which organises the event or to the hosts of the party.
Hmmm....nope, 'that don't impress me much'. (Thank you, Shania Twain)
When someone nudges me and says.." Look! There is so-and-so. I am like 'uh? WHO's that?' Sure, i don't know EVERYbody but if the explanation is just 'she is a socialite', I always feel the need to ask "But what does she DO?"
Partying as a full time occupation? Too much of a good thing never sounded more apt!
If YOU had the money, you could visit the beauty parlour every other day and wear branded clothes, make up and accessories too, right?
I hope not. Perhaps you could stay elegant and well turned out -- sure, but you could also actually do something worthwhile like contributing to businesses (get a job) or better still (since you have the money and the time) help with social causes...all through the same strutting that usually gets you nowhere but an invitation to the next party.
I don't mind being corrected if I am wrong here about socialites in general...willing to listen to any comments that could change the current picture in my mind of empty people. And why are they usually women? WOMEN, this is not good at all. As a woman myself, I must say this is not a feather in this gender's cap. More like a feather in the brain! Ok, perhaps the only use is that these socialites get photographed at some event or restaurant or bar, etc. and thereby bring publicity to that business which organises the event or to the hosts of the party.
Hmmm....nope, 'that don't impress me much'. (Thank you, Shania Twain)
When someone nudges me and says.." Look! There is so-and-so. I am like 'uh? WHO's that?' Sure, i don't know EVERYbody but if the explanation is just 'she is a socialite', I always feel the need to ask "But what does she DO?"
Partying as a full time occupation? Too much of a good thing never sounded more apt!
Western Voices
There are some 'voices in song' that can raise those goosebumps on you and get that lump up and big in your throat, leaving you a bit spent...such gifted voices belong to singers like Barbara Streisand. What a glorious voice and non judgementally speaking, a personality to match!
Old goldies like 'The way we were' and 'Memory' -- just listen to them to get that stirred-up feeling...brings out emotions and memories(!) nearly long-forgotten. I am constantly amazed by what music can do...no wonder they say it is for the soul.
You can see the emotions in the song when Barbara Streisand sings...It got me thinking that for best effects, the singer ought to be not-so-young so that experience can add flavour to every word. I can appreciate that more now with, ahem, age!
And how about those song writers at that point who wrote simple and meaningful words! (Doubt: Does anybody know ehther Barbara streisand herself wrote the lyrics for 'The Way we Were' and 'Memory'?)
A song without lyrics is like...well, it has a different effect -- subtle but pretty strong really. Oh well, that calls for another post altogether!
Old goldies like 'The way we were' and 'Memory' -- just listen to them to get that stirred-up feeling...brings out emotions and memories(!) nearly long-forgotten. I am constantly amazed by what music can do...no wonder they say it is for the soul.
You can see the emotions in the song when Barbara Streisand sings...It got me thinking that for best effects, the singer ought to be not-so-young so that experience can add flavour to every word. I can appreciate that more now with, ahem, age!
And how about those song writers at that point who wrote simple and meaningful words! (Doubt: Does anybody know ehther Barbara streisand herself wrote the lyrics for 'The Way we Were' and 'Memory'?)
A song without lyrics is like...well, it has a different effect -- subtle but pretty strong really. Oh well, that calls for another post altogether!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Old is gold
Why is it that people are paranoid about getting older? Wrinkles, extra curves, lines and grey hair all seem to bother them a great deal. Creams galore, machines and dyes and various 'beauty/anti-aging' elements, pills are prevalent today. For what? Surely, no matter what you do, you are going to look your age (give or take 2-3 years?)...and so what?
If these people would concentrate on health or even beauty (to some extent), that would be fine. But to grapple with growing older is stupidity. I mean why would a fifty year old yearn to look 35? Beats me. But maybe I cannot understand it because I am not even 35 yet, ha ha.
Besides, I always have considered growing older as a good thing. It means you're staying alive, collecting experience;). It does not mean that you have to look young till the day you drop dead. Nobody in their right mind would want to die young so be prepared to look your happy old and hopefully graceful age until it's 'your time to go'.
Old is one thing. Haggard is another. At 70, you may look haggard and that could be the time you could consider anti-ageing stuff. At 40 and 50 if you look haggard, it's your overall health that is the problem, not your skin and hair. At 30, 40 and 50 if you are trying desperately to look younger, you have too much time on your hands;).
There's something great about growing older, something wise, something graceful, a calm outlook, and something else...oh, yeah, you are still alive!
So, oldie (!), pull yourself together, get some fresh air, laugh yourself silly over something, catch up with friends, maybe even have ONE or TWO drinks ...and then check out your smiley expression in the mirror. Those wrinkles will look like laugh lines!
Cheers!
If these people would concentrate on health or even beauty (to some extent), that would be fine. But to grapple with growing older is stupidity. I mean why would a fifty year old yearn to look 35? Beats me. But maybe I cannot understand it because I am not even 35 yet, ha ha.
Besides, I always have considered growing older as a good thing. It means you're staying alive, collecting experience;). It does not mean that you have to look young till the day you drop dead. Nobody in their right mind would want to die young so be prepared to look your happy old and hopefully graceful age until it's 'your time to go'.
Old is one thing. Haggard is another. At 70, you may look haggard and that could be the time you could consider anti-ageing stuff. At 40 and 50 if you look haggard, it's your overall health that is the problem, not your skin and hair. At 30, 40 and 50 if you are trying desperately to look younger, you have too much time on your hands;).
There's something great about growing older, something wise, something graceful, a calm outlook, and something else...oh, yeah, you are still alive!
So, oldie (!), pull yourself together, get some fresh air, laugh yourself silly over something, catch up with friends, maybe even have ONE or TWO drinks ...and then check out your smiley expression in the mirror. Those wrinkles will look like laugh lines!
Cheers!
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Dad-daughter cuteness
I noticed a father dropping his 6year old daughter off at school. However, perhaps it was a late, rushed morning,the girl did not have her hair neat and combed. The Dad whipped out a comb whilst just outside the gates of the school and for a full five minutes tenderly and smoothly combed his daughter's hair, gently getting rid of the tangles and really, doing it just as well as a Mom might!
I don't know what it is about fathers and daughters that melts my heart -- maybe cos I am a super 'Daddy's girl' candidate, but to watch dads bonding with their little girls is a real little pleasure indeed!
I don't know what it is about fathers and daughters that melts my heart -- maybe cos I am a super 'Daddy's girl' candidate, but to watch dads bonding with their little girls is a real little pleasure indeed!
Coincidences
I love coincidences! Not the depressing ones, but the small stuff. For example, I was imagining what I would call my non-existent column in some famous publication and then, a few hours later, an old, good friend gave me his blog address and when I checked out his blog, there was one of the three options I had thought of for my column-to-(may)be! I was so kicked about it. Fools may seldom differ but then great minds think alike as well!
Then, there was the time when I wondering why one of my old, good pals (abroad) had not wished me for my birthday and I had just finished stating at home that she was the only one, surprisingly, who had forgotten my birthday and weirdly, within ten minutes of that, her mother who lives here in Chennai, called to wish me and it was too much of a coincidence not to mention it to her! Anyway, it turned out that my pal did not forget my birthday, she just did not manage to get through to me...frankly, in this case, the thought counted!
Then there is the 'vetti' (i.e. insignificant) coincidence of noticing a car in front of you on the road and it's number plate and on another location, a few minutes later, spot another one that shares the same license plate number.
All right -- I am a coincidence person. But it's the people-related coincidences that make my day!
Then, there was the time when I wondering why one of my old, good pals (abroad) had not wished me for my birthday and I had just finished stating at home that she was the only one, surprisingly, who had forgotten my birthday and weirdly, within ten minutes of that, her mother who lives here in Chennai, called to wish me and it was too much of a coincidence not to mention it to her! Anyway, it turned out that my pal did not forget my birthday, she just did not manage to get through to me...frankly, in this case, the thought counted!
Then there is the 'vetti' (i.e. insignificant) coincidence of noticing a car in front of you on the road and it's number plate and on another location, a few minutes later, spot another one that shares the same license plate number.
All right -- I am a coincidence person. But it's the people-related coincidences that make my day!
Monday, September 24, 2007
JLT
'Just like that' I felt like updating my blog!
Went for an EESHA YOGA presentation of sorts last night -- to celebrate that Guru's 25 years of eesha yoga -- when, in his opinion, he became one with the universe. (Or did he say earth? or galaxy?). I would ideally have skipped it had I known that it was such a big do with the Chief Minister and his daughter attending the programme. SNORE is what they made me do. Intentions might have been good. But pompousness never goes down well with me and the speeches they gave were tolerated only because I was surrounded by friends and I busied myself minding a toddler (from a stranger-family)who was sucking on her hairclip thereby giving me the creeps and I pounced on the father on whose lap she was sitting "watch what she is doing!". You know, it's amazing how people will listen to you when you use a certain TONE. It has to be authoritative, know-it-all and brisk.
Anyway, people rambled on about tree planting which is always GREAT (tree planting, not rambling ESPECIALLY by speech-givers) and i am all for it. Just not interested in 4 different versions of it in one go.
The speech by THE GURU was interesting, couple of anecdotes -- very enjoyable and the meaning of yoga was made clear. Yoga by the way means 'union'. Then, there was this mass meditation for God-knows-how-many-minutes. The beauty of the 'meditation' was that it was punctuated by (our eyes were supposed to be closed and the focus on a spot between the eyebrows with face slightly up-tilted) the Guru suddenly singing in a slightly creepy way. Not to be outdone, some of the youth in the audience timed their screeching / howling VERY well during the pauses in the Guru's singing. I had to laugh. Come on, life's little pleasures and besides, the Guru did start off saying women were to laugh more (and more loudly!!) and men ought to shed more 'tears of tenderness'. Then came on the drumming and tribal-like music. VERY VERY good music i must say. But my eyes could not remain closed for long in this mass meditation. Felt uneasy and bored. So, that attempt at meditation was not great.
Therefore, i need to meditate. Now. Alone. But I call it sleep;)
Note: I don't intend to cause anyone any insult nor am I belittling the merits of yoga and meditation. I am fully aware that I have a great need for both. But...later; I am just not 'there' right now. Yes, that also happens to be my formidable sister's favourite phrase: I am just not 'there' right now.:)
As the popular song went "...But I still have n't found what I'm looking for..." (Thanks U2!)
Went for an EESHA YOGA presentation of sorts last night -- to celebrate that Guru's 25 years of eesha yoga -- when, in his opinion, he became one with the universe. (Or did he say earth? or galaxy?). I would ideally have skipped it had I known that it was such a big do with the Chief Minister and his daughter attending the programme. SNORE is what they made me do. Intentions might have been good. But pompousness never goes down well with me and the speeches they gave were tolerated only because I was surrounded by friends and I busied myself minding a toddler (from a stranger-family)who was sucking on her hairclip thereby giving me the creeps and I pounced on the father on whose lap she was sitting "watch what she is doing!". You know, it's amazing how people will listen to you when you use a certain TONE. It has to be authoritative, know-it-all and brisk.
Anyway, people rambled on about tree planting which is always GREAT (tree planting, not rambling ESPECIALLY by speech-givers) and i am all for it. Just not interested in 4 different versions of it in one go.
The speech by THE GURU was interesting, couple of anecdotes -- very enjoyable and the meaning of yoga was made clear. Yoga by the way means 'union'. Then, there was this mass meditation for God-knows-how-many-minutes. The beauty of the 'meditation' was that it was punctuated by (our eyes were supposed to be closed and the focus on a spot between the eyebrows with face slightly up-tilted) the Guru suddenly singing in a slightly creepy way. Not to be outdone, some of the youth in the audience timed their screeching / howling VERY well during the pauses in the Guru's singing. I had to laugh. Come on, life's little pleasures and besides, the Guru did start off saying women were to laugh more (and more loudly!!) and men ought to shed more 'tears of tenderness'. Then came on the drumming and tribal-like music. VERY VERY good music i must say. But my eyes could not remain closed for long in this mass meditation. Felt uneasy and bored. So, that attempt at meditation was not great.
Therefore, i need to meditate. Now. Alone. But I call it sleep;)
Note: I don't intend to cause anyone any insult nor am I belittling the merits of yoga and meditation. I am fully aware that I have a great need for both. But...later; I am just not 'there' right now. Yes, that also happens to be my formidable sister's favourite phrase: I am just not 'there' right now.:)
As the popular song went "...But I still have n't found what I'm looking for..." (Thanks U2!)
Saturday, September 22, 2007
My first call
I was not particularly interested in the field of sales and marketing. Yet, I found myself in my first full time job -- in sales, with the impressive and misleading designation of 'Consultant - Internet Services' in a small marketing company. It was my first sales 'call' (The word Consultant at that stage, i think was a gimmick but one that worked like a charm). The company / gentleman I was to call on was a kind of one-man show and located somewhere off Cenotaph road in Chennai.
Things against me:
1. I did not know THAT much about the Internet services I was selling.
2. It was my first sales call alone so i was a bit nervous.
3. I was prone to a chronic cough that came on suddenly in irritant spells and would not go away when you wanted it to no matter what -- water, fresh air, you name it.
So, i reach the address and survey the building apprehensively because not a soul was about. Then I learn that the 'company' was situated above the man's house, right on top of the building - 3rd floor or so. So I started to climb. Slowly, because we all know how embarrassing it is to arrive at any interview or appointment panting like a dog and with a stitch in your side...you know, first impressions and all that!
Climbing past the first floor, I heard some pattering of feet behind me and turned around to see this big dog, a retriever-cross, who even LOOKED cross, or should I say a dog that looked 'no-nonsense'. Being a dog lover you would think I was thrilled to see him. But I was NOT. This dog was eerily quiet and watchful. I was nervous and I knew the dog could smell it. I started panicking. But it was a one-way, spiral staircase and there was still not a soul in sight. Screaming out meant I WANTED a dog bite. So I uncertainly continued to climb, keeping a watchful eye over my shoulder on this stern fellow who kept following me at the same distance but the control he exercised was more unnerving than anything else. On and on I went until suddenly, I just came upon a door. I then understood what the term 'standing between the DEVIL and the DEEP SEA actually meant!
I let the Devil out of my thoughts and knocked on the Deep Sea's door. The 'come in' was so prompt I pushed the door and stumbled into the room wheezing and panic stricken. So much for 1st impressions! Why put a step at a doorway. Annoying habit some builders have I tell you!! The man (just some years older than I was)looked surprised but before he could exhibit his hiding of any amusment at my ungainly entrance, the coughing bout came on...and how. It was HIS turn to panic -- what if this crazy sales woman died of a coughing fit in his office?He offered me water at once which I wheezed, coughed at and waved away. Finally when the damn bout left me, I started to blubber about my company and its products. Turned out, he was better informed than I was and was not going to buy anything, so i gave it up quickly as a lost cause. My mind was on how to descend that what i call Rapunzel staircase (it may as well not have been there for all the steep and spirally design, HMPH) without encountering the dog again. I asked him that and he assured me that the dog was friendly.
Needless to say, my flight down the stairs was quick and painless unlike the damage to my ego!!
Things against me:
1. I did not know THAT much about the Internet services I was selling.
2. It was my first sales call alone so i was a bit nervous.
3. I was prone to a chronic cough that came on suddenly in irritant spells and would not go away when you wanted it to no matter what -- water, fresh air, you name it.
So, i reach the address and survey the building apprehensively because not a soul was about. Then I learn that the 'company' was situated above the man's house, right on top of the building - 3rd floor or so. So I started to climb. Slowly, because we all know how embarrassing it is to arrive at any interview or appointment panting like a dog and with a stitch in your side...you know, first impressions and all that!
Climbing past the first floor, I heard some pattering of feet behind me and turned around to see this big dog, a retriever-cross, who even LOOKED cross, or should I say a dog that looked 'no-nonsense'. Being a dog lover you would think I was thrilled to see him. But I was NOT. This dog was eerily quiet and watchful. I was nervous and I knew the dog could smell it. I started panicking. But it was a one-way, spiral staircase and there was still not a soul in sight. Screaming out meant I WANTED a dog bite. So I uncertainly continued to climb, keeping a watchful eye over my shoulder on this stern fellow who kept following me at the same distance but the control he exercised was more unnerving than anything else. On and on I went until suddenly, I just came upon a door. I then understood what the term 'standing between the DEVIL and the DEEP SEA actually meant!
I let the Devil out of my thoughts and knocked on the Deep Sea's door. The 'come in' was so prompt I pushed the door and stumbled into the room wheezing and panic stricken. So much for 1st impressions! Why put a step at a doorway. Annoying habit some builders have I tell you!! The man (just some years older than I was)looked surprised but before he could exhibit his hiding of any amusment at my ungainly entrance, the coughing bout came on...and how. It was HIS turn to panic -- what if this crazy sales woman died of a coughing fit in his office?He offered me water at once which I wheezed, coughed at and waved away. Finally when the damn bout left me, I started to blubber about my company and its products. Turned out, he was better informed than I was and was not going to buy anything, so i gave it up quickly as a lost cause. My mind was on how to descend that what i call Rapunzel staircase (it may as well not have been there for all the steep and spirally design, HMPH) without encountering the dog again. I asked him that and he assured me that the dog was friendly.
Needless to say, my flight down the stairs was quick and painless unlike the damage to my ego!!
A song and dance about nothing!
What is it with these singing and dancing competitions on channels like vijay TV? The 'super singer junior' or whatever it is called, is absurd. Simply because, you are testing CHILDREN on their singing skills based on FILM songs. If this alone were not bad enough, you have these parents of the contenders CRYING with the stress of waiting to find out whether their child made it; acting as though their lives depended on the outcome.
I am all for singing competitions. But this is going too far. I blame the parents for their immaturity and for what? For a film song! At least if it were Classical or Folk music, it is understandable because we are culture-oriented people. This is complete dilution of our rich culture. Call me conservative but kids ought to be guided the right way and this is not it. Especially because, many of the film songs have inappropriate words for a ten year old to be belting out (although, I have to say, these kids are immensely talented with the actual singing) and the songs also have unsuitable vibes like romance and even lust. Even now, as an adult, I would cringe with embarrasment if I had to sing some of the songs those kids sang from the films.
Why can't people see this?
Today I happened to be flipping channels and came across this dancing competiton (thankfully for adults) -- Jodi No.1 or something on Vijay TV. Again, so frivolous -- dancing to film songs. As if it is not enough that the filmstars even, look a tad foolish doing the actual song sequence in the movies but that at least is part of what they DO in a film besides acting. Sure they want to put 'any which' talent out there. But, where is all the importance classical music and dance deserve? Dancing to a Vijay or Simbu number, HMPH. But even that in itself is Ok. For fun...'chumma'. But then getting emotional and hyper about the 'judges' decision is atrocious. Tears of joy or sadness / disappointment are also quick to follow. Hello, people...is THIS REAL TALENT?
Where is all this going?
To the dogs, where else? !
Jaya TV's SPB show is rather better. And all those on Sun TV , etc. (the ones you get Sunday mornings) are also acceptable - but just about. Sure, classical can get heavy and is not as glamourous or 'fun' as the film songs but there is also an in between that's almost dead and gone and which deserves a mention - folk music. Folk music is part of the rich Indian culture too and anyday better than the ridiculously worded songs of today's films. Please, bring it back -- better than the sicko film songs being churned out.
I am sure the Americal Idol kickstarted this trend in India. But we must remember that those were not CHILDREN who competed and withstood those judges' (one judge in particular) caustic tongue. We are teaching our kids rubbish again and again. Er, no, what do I mean by 'we'? I mean 'YOU', the parents of those children in that competition who had to face some super-smug one-song-is-my-claim-to-filmy-fame judges.
Besides, what IS the actual caliber of these judges anyway? ARGH. Let me not get into THAT now. Enough said ...I think;)
Hey, some one has said I am caustic in my blog. I not like that word. Are my complaints not genuine?? But the comment has set me thinking...in my fervour to get some cribs out of my system, I have forgotten some funny anecdotes and some interesting ones as well that I should also definitely share...coming up then... next time.
Cheers!
I am all for singing competitions. But this is going too far. I blame the parents for their immaturity and for what? For a film song! At least if it were Classical or Folk music, it is understandable because we are culture-oriented people. This is complete dilution of our rich culture. Call me conservative but kids ought to be guided the right way and this is not it. Especially because, many of the film songs have inappropriate words for a ten year old to be belting out (although, I have to say, these kids are immensely talented with the actual singing) and the songs also have unsuitable vibes like romance and even lust. Even now, as an adult, I would cringe with embarrasment if I had to sing some of the songs those kids sang from the films.
Why can't people see this?
Today I happened to be flipping channels and came across this dancing competiton (thankfully for adults) -- Jodi No.1 or something on Vijay TV. Again, so frivolous -- dancing to film songs. As if it is not enough that the filmstars even, look a tad foolish doing the actual song sequence in the movies but that at least is part of what they DO in a film besides acting. Sure they want to put 'any which' talent out there. But, where is all the importance classical music and dance deserve? Dancing to a Vijay or Simbu number, HMPH. But even that in itself is Ok. For fun...'chumma'. But then getting emotional and hyper about the 'judges' decision is atrocious. Tears of joy or sadness / disappointment are also quick to follow. Hello, people...is THIS REAL TALENT?
Where is all this going?
To the dogs, where else? !
Jaya TV's SPB show is rather better. And all those on Sun TV , etc. (the ones you get Sunday mornings) are also acceptable - but just about. Sure, classical can get heavy and is not as glamourous or 'fun' as the film songs but there is also an in between that's almost dead and gone and which deserves a mention - folk music. Folk music is part of the rich Indian culture too and anyday better than the ridiculously worded songs of today's films. Please, bring it back -- better than the sicko film songs being churned out.
I am sure the Americal Idol kickstarted this trend in India. But we must remember that those were not CHILDREN who competed and withstood those judges' (one judge in particular) caustic tongue. We are teaching our kids rubbish again and again. Er, no, what do I mean by 'we'? I mean 'YOU', the parents of those children in that competition who had to face some super-smug one-song-is-my-claim-to-filmy-fame judges.
Besides, what IS the actual caliber of these judges anyway? ARGH. Let me not get into THAT now. Enough said ...I think;)
Hey, some one has said I am caustic in my blog. I not like that word. Are my complaints not genuine?? But the comment has set me thinking...in my fervour to get some cribs out of my system, I have forgotten some funny anecdotes and some interesting ones as well that I should also definitely share...coming up then... next time.
Cheers!
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The toilet seat exercise
Ok, so we are talking about the western toilet here. The throne. I fail to understand why women want the seat down (especially in the west) all the time and any man sharing the loo with them has to ensure he lets the seat down after he finishes with his 'small' job.
My point is...woman, why can you not just put the seat down yourself when it is time for your reign on the throne?
I would personally feel 'ugh' if I thought the toilet seat had remained down and the guy had sprinkled his tinkle all over the seat! This I think is a much graver problem. If the seat were up, at least I would know, the seat cover which I am going to use will not have his dew drops (yuck!).
If someone can explain this business to me, that would be great.
Anycase, I don't like the idea of sharing my loo (or kakkoos as we charmingly call it down south) with anyone on a long-term basis but ... I am afraid we can't always have all that we want!!
Sighhhh.
On another note...
As a passionate bathroom-lover I must say that whenever I travel and then finally get back home, the thing I look forward to most is performing my 'jobs' in my 'wown' loo. Aaha. Inbamo inbam that is!
My point is...woman, why can you not just put the seat down yourself when it is time for your reign on the throne?
I would personally feel 'ugh' if I thought the toilet seat had remained down and the guy had sprinkled his tinkle all over the seat! This I think is a much graver problem. If the seat were up, at least I would know, the seat cover which I am going to use will not have his dew drops (yuck!).
If someone can explain this business to me, that would be great.
Anycase, I don't like the idea of sharing my loo (or kakkoos as we charmingly call it down south) with anyone on a long-term basis but ... I am afraid we can't always have all that we want!!
Sighhhh.
On another note...
As a passionate bathroom-lover I must say that whenever I travel and then finally get back home, the thing I look forward to most is performing my 'jobs' in my 'wown' loo. Aaha. Inbamo inbam that is!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Inspired by Blogeswari
This piece is in honour of Independence Day, August 15th as well as my dad's tenth death anniversary, 7th August, and the thoughts were pretty much awakened by blogeswari.blogspot.com's sharing of patriotism.
I was in the eleventh standard (or so) and very very enthu about most things. I considered myself quite a patriot. Loved the Indian national anthem (and still do) and find it difficult most times these days, to finish it without them lumps in the throat! My Dad had always insisted on being as much of an Indian as possible and he taught me to sing the national anthem always standing up and erect...even whilst practising.
So, I am in class -- twas just a regular, routine class and some kids were rehearsing the Independance Day programme outside class and we could hear most of it. When they came to practising the national anthem, I suddenly realised that I was lounging around so i quietly got up and stood, not caring about the rest of the class's giggles. It took a few moments for the teacher to realise that one of her students was not seated. She look astonished and asked 'What are you doing?' (I was a favourite although lousy at her subject) I said 'National Anthem, miss'.
'It's Ok, sit down' and no matter how many 'buts' I stammered out, she waved me off.
I came home and told my Dad what happened. He was most disappointed in the teacher. "No wonder our country's going to the dogs' he said.
Even today, I am wondering which attitude is right.
But I still stand up whenever I even hear it.
'Jai Hind!' I say...always!
I was in the eleventh standard (or so) and very very enthu about most things. I considered myself quite a patriot. Loved the Indian national anthem (and still do) and find it difficult most times these days, to finish it without them lumps in the throat! My Dad had always insisted on being as much of an Indian as possible and he taught me to sing the national anthem always standing up and erect...even whilst practising.
So, I am in class -- twas just a regular, routine class and some kids were rehearsing the Independance Day programme outside class and we could hear most of it. When they came to practising the national anthem, I suddenly realised that I was lounging around so i quietly got up and stood, not caring about the rest of the class's giggles. It took a few moments for the teacher to realise that one of her students was not seated. She look astonished and asked 'What are you doing?' (I was a favourite although lousy at her subject) I said 'National Anthem, miss'.
'It's Ok, sit down' and no matter how many 'buts' I stammered out, she waved me off.
I came home and told my Dad what happened. He was most disappointed in the teacher. "No wonder our country's going to the dogs' he said.
Even today, I am wondering which attitude is right.
But I still stand up whenever I even hear it.
'Jai Hind!' I say...always!
Pesterfering Phony Panni
He was not exacty a colleague although he worked for the same company I did. As a punishment for being employed by the same company, I met him a few times (totally perhaps 6-7 times) during my 6 years in that office. I was never particularly fond him although he was fairly polite with me and not bad looking either!! BUT...
He would say some things...stuff, which he ought not to be telling some woman whom he barely knew. Things about his wife and just how disinterested with her he was or something along those lines. Only, he phrased it differently "She has a problem". SHE! Right. But I NEVER (even on terribly bored days) encouraged this subject. In fact I studiously ignored it. But consistently, he would make it a point to show his lack of interest.
Later... I was not in the company any more. Nor he. Professionally also, he had a few black marks to his credit, er, DEBIT, I mean. However, he got my home number from some blessed colleague of mine and called me one day out of the blue. First he wanted me to 'be his friend'. Then he wanted to know if I 'knew any one who could help him in a land dispute' (YAWN!) I did not. Neither did I jump with joy when he said "You are my only friend in Chennai". Oh you sicko. Am sure there is a reason you have no friends. Well, as it turned out, there are many reasons. Then, we got back to the sob story of "My wife has a problem. Untreatable. We live separate lives". SNORE. I took two calls like that -- pointless talks with people I doubt sincerely don't do it for me anymore. So, I stopped taking his calls. He tried, tried, tried. Smsd. Like EVERY day. One day I picked up my house phone (no caller id) and he wanted to know if I wanted a job in the company he worked for. "Nope" I said. Then he actually came home (Don't know how he got my address....eeks) and wanted to see me. I was really mad and told somebody to take a message as I was 'not home'. The message was his visiting card. Hmph.
Then I simply continued ignoring his smss and calls again until MAYBE he got the point. This was around 5 months ago. To cut this long story short, it has now turned out that the man had pestered enough other people to earn him some serious trouble with the law in his romantic, extra-marital endeavours. Ha. PPP I believe and HOPE is being correctly punished for focussing on rubbish instead of on LIFE.
Ok, Now I think this guy's a waste of space in my blog. Will give it a few days and then delete it. Since I mentioned PPP before, just wanted to take the tale to its logical ending.
He would say some things...stuff, which he ought not to be telling some woman whom he barely knew. Things about his wife and just how disinterested with her he was or something along those lines. Only, he phrased it differently "She has a problem". SHE! Right. But I NEVER (even on terribly bored days) encouraged this subject. In fact I studiously ignored it. But consistently, he would make it a point to show his lack of interest.
Later... I was not in the company any more. Nor he. Professionally also, he had a few black marks to his credit, er, DEBIT, I mean. However, he got my home number from some blessed colleague of mine and called me one day out of the blue. First he wanted me to 'be his friend'. Then he wanted to know if I 'knew any one who could help him in a land dispute' (YAWN!) I did not. Neither did I jump with joy when he said "You are my only friend in Chennai". Oh you sicko. Am sure there is a reason you have no friends. Well, as it turned out, there are many reasons. Then, we got back to the sob story of "My wife has a problem. Untreatable. We live separate lives". SNORE. I took two calls like that -- pointless talks with people I doubt sincerely don't do it for me anymore. So, I stopped taking his calls. He tried, tried, tried. Smsd. Like EVERY day. One day I picked up my house phone (no caller id) and he wanted to know if I wanted a job in the company he worked for. "Nope" I said. Then he actually came home (Don't know how he got my address....eeks) and wanted to see me. I was really mad and told somebody to take a message as I was 'not home'. The message was his visiting card. Hmph.
Then I simply continued ignoring his smss and calls again until MAYBE he got the point. This was around 5 months ago. To cut this long story short, it has now turned out that the man had pestered enough other people to earn him some serious trouble with the law in his romantic, extra-marital endeavours. Ha. PPP I believe and HOPE is being correctly punished for focussing on rubbish instead of on LIFE.
Ok, Now I think this guy's a waste of space in my blog. Will give it a few days and then delete it. Since I mentioned PPP before, just wanted to take the tale to its logical ending.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
On the train with Pervert Prabhu
2001 August or so, I travelled by overnight train to Bangalore and back with my mother. On the return journey to Chennai, there were only men in our compartment -- which bothered me somewhat. Still, it could not be helped and it was soon time to lay out sheets and lie down. I had the lower berth as did my mom. I helped the guy in the middle berth (just above mine) to spread the sheet on his berth. Really, I did not help so much as give the sheet a twitch and a tug once. I would do it for anyone...well, not anymore. The guy mumured thanks to which i just smiled non-comittally. (I no longer do this--my middle name is now Grumpy-Face).You'll see why. The guy was in his late twenties or so...normal looking.
The lights went out -- I had a vague opinion on one of the other guys on the uppermost berths -- that he was rather selfish and brash. Don't remember how that opinion was formed...anyway...so, it was dark and I thankfully had my blanket pulled right up to my chin. Say around 1 or 2 a.m., I was woken up by some weird pressure on my toes! I looked to see this middleberth 'thanker'-turned-pervert massaging my toes. MASSAGING! Ugh. At first, i could not BELIEVE my eyes. So I waited in complete bewildement and disbelief. Then he came again over the edge of his berth (footside) and did it again. Then I yelled "You $%#$ stop that" and then he stopped as if shot and went back onto his berth..disappeared from my line of vision. I was shaking with anger and ...ugh-feelings. I shouted out again, calling him some names. Bloody so and so...you get the picture. Still, nothing happened. The guys around seemed disturbed but nobody did anything.
My Mom asked me what happened, i told her (taking care to be loud)and I was even more annoyed when all she said was "do you want to switch places with me?" So I got up and walked a bit up and down the corridor looking for a cop. OBVIOUSLY there are no cops when one desperately wants to see one! So i switched on the lights and came back to lie down on my berth. I did this cos I wanted to rouse the morons who surrounded me (I was equally angry at the rest of the co-passengers for not caring about my yells). After a few minutes, the selfish fellow on the upper berth said "what is this? i am trying to sleep -- who put the lights on?" Aha. This was what i was waiting for. "I did" I retorted loudly. "There is an indecent guy on the middle berth above me and I don't feel safe so I switched the lights on". The selfish jerk then says "But madam, that is between you and him...why should you disturb the rest of us?" At this, I was pretty enraged. I got up and faced the whole compartment and shouted and raved about their selfishness and the guy's bad behaviour.
Pervert Prabhu who had been pretending to sleep pretended to look up groggily and I bit his head off. Figuratively of course...who would touch that jackass with a tenfoot pole? I snapped at him and said "don't pretend!" One guy half-heartedly, reprimanded PPrabhu. I told the lot that when we reach Chennai, i would summon a policeman and take it from there and as the chivalrous men in the compartment did not care for my discomfort or safety, i would let them get back to their beauty sleep, I would switch off the lights. BUT...IF anything further happened, I would lead the whole lot of them into a lot of trouble. I then went back to my berth in a huff after switching off the lights.
I bet the guys got nervous with my big talk cos one crept out and put some dim lights on and thereafter nobody (MUCH to my satisfaction) slept. They kept going to the loo. Serves them right.
In the morning as I was itching to get to a cop, Pervert Prabhu sidled off his berth QUICKLY and disappeared in a jiffy. As for me? I ranted a bit at my Mom who did not have much to say (i am still a wee bit bugged!) and then thought of the best way to cleanse my toes although he did not touch me directly - only through the blankets. Still...YUCK!
I came home and scrubed my feet hard for a few days.
And only then did i sit back and dare to consider rape victims...actually, i did NOT dare. It is too horrible to even think about. I am quite proud of my actions that night. All I regret is not having slapped him a few times. THAT would have sealed the deal. What say?
Next in line...PPP.
Btw, thanks for the 4 comments I got for my previous. Yes, LKS, I do know that the US folks have your point as one of the few better-than-Indian things about them. I was there for 6 months 11 years ago. I found there that nobody cared how others dressed--GREAT! (But also, nobody...cares!)
Cheers!
The lights went out -- I had a vague opinion on one of the other guys on the uppermost berths -- that he was rather selfish and brash. Don't remember how that opinion was formed...anyway...so, it was dark and I thankfully had my blanket pulled right up to my chin. Say around 1 or 2 a.m., I was woken up by some weird pressure on my toes! I looked to see this middleberth 'thanker'-turned-pervert massaging my toes. MASSAGING! Ugh. At first, i could not BELIEVE my eyes. So I waited in complete bewildement and disbelief. Then he came again over the edge of his berth (footside) and did it again. Then I yelled "You $%#$ stop that" and then he stopped as if shot and went back onto his berth..disappeared from my line of vision. I was shaking with anger and ...ugh-feelings. I shouted out again, calling him some names. Bloody so and so...you get the picture. Still, nothing happened. The guys around seemed disturbed but nobody did anything.
My Mom asked me what happened, i told her (taking care to be loud)and I was even more annoyed when all she said was "do you want to switch places with me?" So I got up and walked a bit up and down the corridor looking for a cop. OBVIOUSLY there are no cops when one desperately wants to see one! So i switched on the lights and came back to lie down on my berth. I did this cos I wanted to rouse the morons who surrounded me (I was equally angry at the rest of the co-passengers for not caring about my yells). After a few minutes, the selfish fellow on the upper berth said "what is this? i am trying to sleep -- who put the lights on?" Aha. This was what i was waiting for. "I did" I retorted loudly. "There is an indecent guy on the middle berth above me and I don't feel safe so I switched the lights on". The selfish jerk then says "But madam, that is between you and him...why should you disturb the rest of us?" At this, I was pretty enraged. I got up and faced the whole compartment and shouted and raved about their selfishness and the guy's bad behaviour.
Pervert Prabhu who had been pretending to sleep pretended to look up groggily and I bit his head off. Figuratively of course...who would touch that jackass with a tenfoot pole? I snapped at him and said "don't pretend!" One guy half-heartedly, reprimanded PPrabhu. I told the lot that when we reach Chennai, i would summon a policeman and take it from there and as the chivalrous men in the compartment did not care for my discomfort or safety, i would let them get back to their beauty sleep, I would switch off the lights. BUT...IF anything further happened, I would lead the whole lot of them into a lot of trouble. I then went back to my berth in a huff after switching off the lights.
I bet the guys got nervous with my big talk cos one crept out and put some dim lights on and thereafter nobody (MUCH to my satisfaction) slept. They kept going to the loo. Serves them right.
In the morning as I was itching to get to a cop, Pervert Prabhu sidled off his berth QUICKLY and disappeared in a jiffy. As for me? I ranted a bit at my Mom who did not have much to say (i am still a wee bit bugged!) and then thought of the best way to cleanse my toes although he did not touch me directly - only through the blankets. Still...YUCK!
I came home and scrubed my feet hard for a few days.
And only then did i sit back and dare to consider rape victims...actually, i did NOT dare. It is too horrible to even think about. I am quite proud of my actions that night. All I regret is not having slapped him a few times. THAT would have sealed the deal. What say?
Next in line...PPP.
Btw, thanks for the 4 comments I got for my previous. Yes, LKS, I do know that the US folks have your point as one of the few better-than-Indian things about them. I was there for 6 months 11 years ago. I found there that nobody cared how others dressed--GREAT! (But also, nobody...cares!)
Cheers!
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