I hit myself hard on the back of my head for not paying any attention to this littal space of mine. I have lots to tell...from 'jurisdictional' adventures in Europe to domestic mishaps at home. But for now i am back to my Ann McBeal avtaar- the lawyer lost in a corporate firm, sitting among men speaking in corporate jargons (i am the only other female lawyer in the place :~O, the other feminine touch is a senior with truckloads of knowledge and experience). The expectations from me are high because of the 9 month vacation i had in london and at a personal level- a huge challenge to prove my worth..so once again i take the liberty to ignore this space till i get some spare time (backslap myself again!).
PS I cannot say 'miss me' because i presume by now u have all 'forgotten' me!!
Cheers.....
Friday, August 22, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Fruit of the Womb
I wanted to write a big bang comeback post or something on the lines of London in hindsight (yes dear peeps I am back in India, it has been over 2 weeks- how I reached is reserved for another post), but recently some news and something I saw flabbergasted me, that I decided to write this.
During the few catechism classes I ever attended in my life and the quick 3 minute family prayer we have at home, I always liked a particular line of ‘Hail Mary’ which goes as follow-
‘Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus’.
Since we pray faster than most Grammy winning rap artists, I thought we were referring to some fruit in the form of a fruit salad rather! It was during another long boring Sunday sermon in church that I opened the hymn book to read what the line actually meant-‘oh JESUS is the fruit!! How unexciting!’ (I was aged 8 then)
Unlike most women who fantasise being pregnant (I know a few of them, so please don’t think I am bull s***ting), child birth has always scared me and it still does. Reasons I don’t know, may be because my first visuals of labour was on Discovery Channel and not Indian movies (where the lady is goes into heavy labour just when her water breaks!) or I read a book on pregnancy before the time was right (it was the only book lying in the loo, sitting there can also bore u). I never really understood wat was so ‘miraculous’ about birth.
Four months back I got news that Chech and Chettan are on their way to make me feel older by making me an aunt. So I kept asking her so does her skin ‘glow’ and is she looking her best, like a huge jumbo jet. Much to my surprise, she, Chettan and me had a paunch of the same size!!! (UK size 14 to be precise) and abt her skin glowing- that was courtesy the humid weather. She herself saying Malaika Arora Khan can say she is looking her best cause she capable of doing nothing other than visiting spas. So wats is the whole deal abt pregnancy, never understood me.
On coming back I got news that Mum was scheduled for a hysterectomy in less than 48 hours (talk abt surprises when u get home- but no I didn’t react like an Ekta Kapoor heroine cause this was expected some day or the other for Mum). She is doing much better and recouping well, thank u very much (after all I am taking care of her!!) After her surgery, a male nurse, with a bottle resembling the Horlick 1kg bottle on tray, emerged out of the OT walking around as if he was a waiter in Sarvana Bhavan serving masala dosa to someone!! In the bottle, swimming in red solution was a fist size ‘thing’, which Dad said was Mum’s UTERUS!!!! My reaction at that point was WHAT THE HELL I LIVED IN THAT FIST SIZED ‘THING’!!! THAT WAS MY FIRST ROOM!!
I manage to get surprised at the thought of that sight even today. After the whole episode my Mum went at great length to explain the entire childbirth process (a little late- cause cousins younger than me are mothers of 1 and 2 year olds and the ‘conception’ part was avoided like every Indian mum! :~P) May be this is the whole ‘miracle’ of birth- not just 2 cells merging with enough data in them to create a whole to life (not just the ‘fun’ part peeps :~P), but how a fist sized organ expands to accommodate some of us who are around 3 kgs at birth, how we hv an egg shaped head at childbirth and how most of us manage to come out the ‘tiny’ hole.
But that still hasn’t reduced my fear of child-birth or have my bawling at the first pics of Baby Eljo (courtesy ultrasound of course- I couldn’t understand anything). Rather to put it in malayam- to think I was once the ‘fruit of a womb (which is sooo small!!)’ njaan sherikum wonder adichu poyi!!
PS busy with mum and dissertation...pliss to be missing me!!
During the few catechism classes I ever attended in my life and the quick 3 minute family prayer we have at home, I always liked a particular line of ‘Hail Mary’ which goes as follow-
‘Blessed are you amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus’.
Since we pray faster than most Grammy winning rap artists, I thought we were referring to some fruit in the form of a fruit salad rather! It was during another long boring Sunday sermon in church that I opened the hymn book to read what the line actually meant-‘oh JESUS is the fruit!! How unexciting!’ (I was aged 8 then)
Unlike most women who fantasise being pregnant (I know a few of them, so please don’t think I am bull s***ting), child birth has always scared me and it still does. Reasons I don’t know, may be because my first visuals of labour was on Discovery Channel and not Indian movies (where the lady is goes into heavy labour just when her water breaks!) or I read a book on pregnancy before the time was right (it was the only book lying in the loo, sitting there can also bore u). I never really understood wat was so ‘miraculous’ about birth.
Four months back I got news that Chech and Chettan are on their way to make me feel older by making me an aunt. So I kept asking her so does her skin ‘glow’ and is she looking her best, like a huge jumbo jet. Much to my surprise, she, Chettan and me had a paunch of the same size!!! (UK size 14 to be precise) and abt her skin glowing- that was courtesy the humid weather. She herself saying Malaika Arora Khan can say she is looking her best cause she capable of doing nothing other than visiting spas. So wats is the whole deal abt pregnancy, never understood me.
On coming back I got news that Mum was scheduled for a hysterectomy in less than 48 hours (talk abt surprises when u get home- but no I didn’t react like an Ekta Kapoor heroine cause this was expected some day or the other for Mum). She is doing much better and recouping well, thank u very much (after all I am taking care of her!!) After her surgery, a male nurse, with a bottle resembling the Horlick 1kg bottle on tray, emerged out of the OT walking around as if he was a waiter in Sarvana Bhavan serving masala dosa to someone!! In the bottle, swimming in red solution was a fist size ‘thing’, which Dad said was Mum’s UTERUS!!!! My reaction at that point was WHAT THE HELL I LIVED IN THAT FIST SIZED ‘THING’!!! THAT WAS MY FIRST ROOM!!
I manage to get surprised at the thought of that sight even today. After the whole episode my Mum went at great length to explain the entire childbirth process (a little late- cause cousins younger than me are mothers of 1 and 2 year olds and the ‘conception’ part was avoided like every Indian mum! :~P) May be this is the whole ‘miracle’ of birth- not just 2 cells merging with enough data in them to create a whole to life (not just the ‘fun’ part peeps :~P), but how a fist sized organ expands to accommodate some of us who are around 3 kgs at birth, how we hv an egg shaped head at childbirth and how most of us manage to come out the ‘tiny’ hole.
But that still hasn’t reduced my fear of child-birth or have my bawling at the first pics of Baby Eljo (courtesy ultrasound of course- I couldn’t understand anything). Rather to put it in malayam- to think I was once the ‘fruit of a womb (which is sooo small!!)’ njaan sherikum wonder adichu poyi!!
PS busy with mum and dissertation...pliss to be missing me!!
PPS this is in response to Brat's comment- it is not that i lack sex education-i was a bio student, but then practicals is lot different from theory and hence wonder adichu poyi!
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Quirkys!
Just when i finish my first exam i turned PINGGKK.....
and i get a tag!!!..YAYYY!!! Thank u boy!
(okie so i also watched Sex and the City-movie cause everyone went on and on abt it and all i found was 4 women sitting around food[although all of them are in perfect shape!!] talking abt sex or lack of it!!! Sigh-for all that media hype!)
The "rules":
Link the person(s) who tagged you- Brrrraaaattt!!!
Mention the rules on your blog
Mention 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
Tag 6 bloggers by linking them
Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers' blogs letting them know they've been tagged -
1) I need to wash my feet before i sleep and my feet have to be WET when i get into bed!!...(this practice is avoided in Delhi winters where houses do not have radiators)
2) I am over-superstitious during my exams (i guess all of us to an extent are)- this expecially includes not bathing for 48 hours before the exam (i feel i will wash away the crammed up knowledge) and not going to a parlour/saloon for normal clean-ups (in maletalk-thats equivalent to not shaving the entire exam period starting from study holidays) ending up in people seeing only eyebrows on my face on the last day.
3) I need go through my notes atleast 3 times before i head for the exams (otherwise i feel terribly underconfident till i see the question paper) and i am competitve and i am seriously trying to control this.
4) I apply ghee on my hair..yes yes ghee!!..(and it actually works!! although i smell like Sree Krishna Mysore Pak till it is washed)
5) I am an 'extremes' person, if i like a song i will listen it on loop till i delete that song from the computer, if i like something i will eat it till i cant bear to look at it again and the nice flavours will soon be 'odours' :~$
6) I always need to have something to look forward to- some experiment, some randon trip This motivates me (yes i am incentive driven)..current idea is to see the seven wonders of the world over a span of few years (ofcourse) especially Christ the Redeemer (but i know that will have to wait for a loong loong time)
I have no one to tag as all my blog-neighbours have already been tagged :~(
eeh...did i mention that i am impulsive and just recently picked up the scissors and cut my hair just like my sister (i had to get some leftover curly bits). its not that bad..i think i have to apply to toni n guy...hmmmm.....
and i get a tag!!!..YAYYY!!! Thank u boy!
(okie so i also watched Sex and the City-movie cause everyone went on and on abt it and all i found was 4 women sitting around food[although all of them are in perfect shape!!] talking abt sex or lack of it!!! Sigh-for all that media hype!)
The "rules":
Link the person(s) who tagged you- Brrrraaaattt!!!
Mention the rules on your blog
Mention 6 unspectacular quirks of yours
Tag 6 bloggers by linking them
Leave a comment on each of the tagged bloggers' blogs letting them know they've been tagged -
1) I need to wash my feet before i sleep and my feet have to be WET when i get into bed!!...(this practice is avoided in Delhi winters where houses do not have radiators)
2) I am over-superstitious during my exams (i guess all of us to an extent are)- this expecially includes not bathing for 48 hours before the exam (i feel i will wash away the crammed up knowledge) and not going to a parlour/saloon for normal clean-ups (in maletalk-thats equivalent to not shaving the entire exam period starting from study holidays) ending up in people seeing only eyebrows on my face on the last day.
3) I need go through my notes atleast 3 times before i head for the exams (otherwise i feel terribly underconfident till i see the question paper) and i am competitve and i am seriously trying to control this.
4) I apply ghee on my hair..yes yes ghee!!..(and it actually works!! although i smell like Sree Krishna Mysore Pak till it is washed)
5) I am an 'extremes' person, if i like a song i will listen it on loop till i delete that song from the computer, if i like something i will eat it till i cant bear to look at it again and the nice flavours will soon be 'odours' :~$
6) I always need to have something to look forward to- some experiment, some randon trip This motivates me (yes i am incentive driven)..current idea is to see the seven wonders of the world over a span of few years (ofcourse) especially Christ the Redeemer (but i know that will have to wait for a loong loong time)
I have no one to tag as all my blog-neighbours have already been tagged :~(
eeh...did i mention that i am impulsive and just recently picked up the scissors and cut my hair just like my sister (i had to get some leftover curly bits). its not that bad..i think i have to apply to toni n guy...hmmmm.....
Saturday, May 10, 2008
To market to market....
Okay yeah i know i have my exams..and this is not my big bang comeback post...but today i am celebrating cause i just wrote a mock exam and felt good that i could do it. With the exam adrenaline rush, i got into one of my infamous 'adventure' moods
and just left college and headed for Borough Market why because there lived the one character i identify the most in my life- Bridget Jones!!! The place is fiercely expensive (because they are Orrrragahnic!!! or award-winning!!... But me still loves the place...)
Things go fine till i explore the place...
(Ann's thoughts- Aah i can buy these cherries..What the hell i jus paid 2 pounds on 10 '0'
(Ann's thoughts- Aah i can buy these cherries..What the hell i jus paid 2 pounds on 10 '0'
cherries...sigh!..wat can i get for Mum- balsamic vinegar...no..she wont like it- when she
hears the cost!!)
It is lunch time and ....then my adventurous evil twin takes over....
On the lunch menu today is Ostrich Burger and Brazillian Wheatgrass Juice....
(Ann's thoughts- "Wheat grass juice..one shot is a equal to a weeks' greens!!!...Wow i jus ate an ostrich..it aint bad..in fact its actually good....hmm now i jus need to lose 10 kgs to ride on one...")
[Note- me knows me need a manicure..that too a french one, will get tat done soon!! Chech are u listening..err.reading!!]
Post lunch back in my room...
Ann's thoughts- (Aaaarrggg!!!..if only i could puke out this thing...it is making me so SICK!!!....[flush]...aaah watte relief!!! i HATE ostrich!!!)
PS- But i did get my mum the 'finest vanilla pod' from Madagascar ..now to think of all the vanilla ice-creams i am gonna eat:~P
Friday, April 11, 2008
Blog Break...
Spring is in season...i am in amsterdam, finally learned to travel around this place on my own...visited some lovely fishing and windmill villages, met one of the best tattooist in amsterdam and realised wat a down-to-earth woman she is, was hit at by a middle-aged indian uncle in the sex museum (now i am hardly the kinds who gets a 'look' from a guy, forget even a second look...and wen i do manage to get lucky, its a 35 yr old man and watte choice of location!!!)...was comfortably lazing around with Mum n Dad in town...and then i saw my study materials and passed out...!!!..So a blog break taken to do the much needed studying as exams are jus 2 months away!!!..See u all in sometime....hoping to remain sane by then...hopefully will have cleared my exams too....Cheers...
(PS: if i scrap or ping anyone of u please remind me to study :~()
(PS: if i scrap or ping anyone of u please remind me to study :~()
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
30 FAQs About Ann
(Dear Brat ur tag is a little difficult for me to do. So i am doing the easy one first)
(I am very bad with my hyperlink-ings due to lack of patience..so please excuse that too...)
1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:
I dont remember precisely. I think it was Dhoom 2 as part of the last college 'outing'. I remember being the only girl in the hall cheering with the guys when bipasha made her grand bikini entry. (i am straight-just was shocked at seeing her from flab to fab in that movie)
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
'Societas Europaea' by D. Kraakmann. (Yes Kraakmann thats the name of the author-prolly thats the effect the subject had on him) Too busy with syallbus textbooks to pick up anything else. :~(
3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Snake n ladder and ludo (the ones which had the games on either side of the board). Scrabble n chess required brain activity so avoided them.
4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Nothing in particular as it depends on which magazine is available at the reception where i am waiting. However i would love to feature on the cover of Forbes and Time. (I will need plastic surgery for the Cosmo or Elle or Vogue cover)
5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Being the foodie that i am i love the smell of onions cooking :~) Also like the smells of shoe polish and orange rind.
6. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
These days i like the sound of Dad's caller tone cause i know i am calling home. Else sound of breaking glass (yes i am weird) and the hissing sound made when water touches a hot surface...
7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
When i realise how much time i have wasted (I am feeling so right now too :~P)
8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
I actually say this- "F$#@ i am late again!!!" or "Jus half an hour more...zzzz....zzzz" followed by "F$#@ i am late again!!!"
9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
Natraj Dahi Bhalla Centre in Chandini Chowk, Delhi. In London, the 4 kebab shops in Leicester Square.
10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Being a true blue malayalee, it will be a nonsensical mix of my name and that of the child's father's. Since i do not know the latter's name, i will have to skip this question. But i can assure u that the name will not have a meaning..it will only be a 'sound' (like jiji, liji)
11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?
Get Mum enrolled in some gourmet cooking classes across Europe (Dad can enjoy post retirement bliss with Mum in all these countries) and enroll myself in Pineapple Dance Academy [they r so damn expensive :~(] All this after investing a major chunk of the money as per Dad's advice, so it better be LOTS of MONEY [PS- Mother Teresa is not my role model and this is no beauty pagent]
12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Only wen dear Balbir bhaiya was present and we were on a national highway. Its over a year i touched the steering wheel. :~(
13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No. Was/Is too much of a tomboy to do so.
14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?
Would have been cool if they didnt wreck everything on their way.
15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
I m still a stingy student, so no car yet. Though the first one driven was the maruti 800 with a pair of clutch and break, one for the driving instructor and one for me.
16. FAVORITE DRINK?
Totally depends on my mood. All time favourite is Banta from Chandini Chowk. (Lemonade with the goli kuppi soda and a special masala) The dirty water and unhygenic surrounding made it taste better.
17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD
Pursue dance once again, learn a new language....
18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?NO!!!
Yes. But would try and avoid eating this vegetable given a choice.
19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
After bronze, blonde and orange streaks and a perm my hair is not ready for another experiment. But as the question says "IF"- then it wud have to be Neon Red streaks. (I like solid, jango colors)
20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Trichur, Alwaye, Madras, Bombay, Ernakulam, New Delhi, Chennai, Delhi, Mumbai, London, Amsterdam (I have spend 1/3rd of my time here)
21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
The only thing i ever watched on ESPN was All State Cheerleading Championship!!
22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.
Great culinary skills (that make me jealous :~D )
23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Hollow space- jus like my head
24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
Yes..but as a more patient and organised person.
25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?
Flexible.
26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Either as per the mood.
27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
A bed anywhere warm and cozy. Relaxing for me = Sleeping
28. FAVORITE PIE?
Apple pie which Mum makes cause thats the only 'margarine-free' pie i am aware of and she also puts raisins in it-jus the way i like it. Occassionally Xmas Mince pie.
29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Mum's pineapple ice-cream. Ever since in London, Ben and Jerry Cookie Dough.
[My mother's culinary skills is every child's fantasy come true. For a middle-aged malayalee mother she makes a variety of continental desserts. She will be receiving her third Michelin star this year :~D So dont think i am blah-blah-ing when i say "Mum's apple pie", "Mum's ice-cream". She even makes the cleanest, unadulterated chocolate truffle and cheese cake too :~P]
30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? Hopefully Mac...
And this tag goes to..
Macadamia- The Nut (I dont know ur name :~( )
Brat- Bharat
Aishwarya- Aishwarya
Farsan- Maneesh
Dgrail- Dhivya
Zenmaster- Arvind
Alex Mcone (i dont know ur name either)
(I am very bad with my hyperlink-ings due to lack of patience..so please excuse that too...)
So the Bachelor Ambrosia tagged me (yay!!) but unlike wat he expected i was not the first person to do it [njaan demand vechatu alla- karthik had done it by the time i saw this tag ;~) ] After this tag i presume my selfish, quirky nature will be revealed to all :~(
1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:
I dont remember precisely. I think it was Dhoom 2 as part of the last college 'outing'. I remember being the only girl in the hall cheering with the guys when bipasha made her grand bikini entry. (i am straight-just was shocked at seeing her from flab to fab in that movie)
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
'Societas Europaea' by D. Kraakmann. (Yes Kraakmann thats the name of the author-prolly thats the effect the subject had on him) Too busy with syallbus textbooks to pick up anything else. :~(
3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?
Snake n ladder and ludo (the ones which had the games on either side of the board). Scrabble n chess required brain activity so avoided them.
4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?
Nothing in particular as it depends on which magazine is available at the reception where i am waiting. However i would love to feature on the cover of Forbes and Time. (I will need plastic surgery for the Cosmo or Elle or Vogue cover)
5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Being the foodie that i am i love the smell of onions cooking :~) Also like the smells of shoe polish and orange rind.
6. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
These days i like the sound of Dad's caller tone cause i know i am calling home. Else sound of breaking glass (yes i am weird) and the hissing sound made when water touches a hot surface...
7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?
When i realise how much time i have wasted (I am feeling so right now too :~P)
8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
I actually say this- "F$#@ i am late again!!!" or "Jus half an hour more...zzzz....zzzz" followed by "F$#@ i am late again!!!"
9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
Natraj Dahi Bhalla Centre in Chandini Chowk, Delhi. In London, the 4 kebab shops in Leicester Square.
10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
Being a true blue malayalee, it will be a nonsensical mix of my name and that of the child's father's. Since i do not know the latter's name, i will have to skip this question. But i can assure u that the name will not have a meaning..it will only be a 'sound' (like jiji, liji)
11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?
Get Mum enrolled in some gourmet cooking classes across Europe (Dad can enjoy post retirement bliss with Mum in all these countries) and enroll myself in Pineapple Dance Academy [they r so damn expensive :~(] All this after investing a major chunk of the money as per Dad's advice, so it better be LOTS of MONEY [PS- Mother Teresa is not my role model and this is no beauty pagent]
12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Only wen dear Balbir bhaiya was present and we were on a national highway. Its over a year i touched the steering wheel. :~(
13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
No. Was/Is too much of a tomboy to do so.
14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?
Would have been cool if they didnt wreck everything on their way.
15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?
I m still a stingy student, so no car yet. Though the first one driven was the maruti 800 with a pair of clutch and break, one for the driving instructor and one for me.
16. FAVORITE DRINK?
Totally depends on my mood. All time favourite is Banta from Chandini Chowk. (Lemonade with the goli kuppi soda and a special masala) The dirty water and unhygenic surrounding made it taste better.
17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD
Pursue dance once again, learn a new language....
18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?NO!!!
Yes. But would try and avoid eating this vegetable given a choice.
19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
After bronze, blonde and orange streaks and a perm my hair is not ready for another experiment. But as the question says "IF"- then it wud have to be Neon Red streaks. (I like solid, jango colors)
20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Trichur, Alwaye, Madras, Bombay, Ernakulam, New Delhi, Chennai, Delhi, Mumbai, London, Amsterdam (I have spend 1/3rd of my time here)
21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
The only thing i ever watched on ESPN was All State Cheerleading Championship!!
22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.
Great culinary skills (that make me jealous :~D )
23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Hollow space- jus like my head
24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
Yes..but as a more patient and organised person.
25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?
Flexible.
26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Either as per the mood.
27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
A bed anywhere warm and cozy. Relaxing for me = Sleeping
28. FAVORITE PIE?
Apple pie which Mum makes cause thats the only 'margarine-free' pie i am aware of and she also puts raisins in it-jus the way i like it. Occassionally Xmas Mince pie.
29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Mum's pineapple ice-cream. Ever since in London, Ben and Jerry Cookie Dough.
[My mother's culinary skills is every child's fantasy come true. For a middle-aged malayalee mother she makes a variety of continental desserts. She will be receiving her third Michelin star this year :~D So dont think i am blah-blah-ing when i say "Mum's apple pie", "Mum's ice-cream". She even makes the cleanest, unadulterated chocolate truffle and cheese cake too :~P]
30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? Hopefully Mac...
And this tag goes to..
Macadamia- The Nut (I dont know ur name :~( )
Brat- Bharat
Aishwarya- Aishwarya
Farsan- Maneesh
Dgrail- Dhivya
Zenmaster- Arvind
Alex Mcone (i dont know ur name either)
Friday, March 07, 2008
Fitness Freak Me.... :~D
After the bicycle misadventure, I was ordered 2 weeks rest and complete pamper by the cute Doctor Bakshi at NHS. Now thats the perfect advice for a couch potah-to like me. It was complete binge time..sometimes eating upto 4 meals a day and the midnight snacking too. But the wildest ideas strike you in those 'pampered' moments. After finishing 'another' pack of crisps I limped carefully to the mirror and saw to my horror that all what i shed a month back (850 grams to be precise ;~D) was back with a vengence!! So I checked out some pics of the good old 'slimmer' days, my mum's and sister's pics and made myself feel miserable. Finally resolved to take charge of the situation. In a nutshell my new fixation is FITNESS.
At this point I must confess that like everyone I am extremely jealous of people who wear spandex and jog for an hour at a stretch. I am very fond of fitness programmes (which i watch while munching on french fries). And though extremely ashamed to accept this, it was just two years back when I was training to be dance instructor (can i hear guffaws..it is the truth people..but the 100 crunches EVERYDAY killed me, so dropped it midway).
Now gym membership was out of question as university gym always has a long serpentine queue behind it (I am embarrased to jog in front of those 6pack abs students). So friend and I sign ourselves up for advanced aerobics and we see that a guy named Mark is taking the session. Accordingly friend goes shopping for chic sports wear as she has this 'gut' feeling that Mark will be hot! (a GUY taking aerobics!!! dearest friend MEN dont take 'AEROBICS' generally)
Due to a missing-key-mishap from yours truly, we reach the building just in time. The class was supposed to be in 'studio 1', but we ran into 'a studio' where we saw a few students warming up (this is after we nearly took a short cut through a Shower Room, which ended up being the Mens shower room-friends idea!). To my horror, some girls I knew from my hall were also present in their sexy spandex flexing their toned muscles (the world is indeed a SMALL place!!! aargh!) Suddenly the music is pumped up, a woman (who i am believe is German for some reason) tells everyone to pick up weights. Now we were only expecting aerobics, where we just jump around and we were expecting MARK...where the hell is MARK?? On enquiring with the girls from the hall on whether it is the advanced aerobics class- i get the reply..'What aerobics??? ' Before we could react, the instructor shouts- 'quick pick up your weights...we have no time to lose'. That is the first time i was shouted at in London!!!
What happened after that is ...(Instructor with stern look and foul mood)
We begin with simple squats....yeah come on 5 more..I WANT 5 MORE SQUATS...now squats with weights....go pick the rod with weight and lets do squats AGAIN...go LOWERRR....complete your squat..next slow squats...all you lazy bones...move it people move it....hey dont drink water.....and 4..3..2..1...hey where do u think you r going...we now do lunges...come on give me 30 on each leg..get moving people, stop faking cramps!!!....next pick your weights...lunges again.....okay..are we done with 30 on each leg...now go get your mats...i want 20 crunches in each position..NO RESTING in between....lets begin... NOORRRMMAALLLLL....now cross leg.....18...19...20...have u finished your 20 so soon...do another 20.. next side crunches...hey stop looking tired..now i want 20 pushups...and go slow......everyone stop being lazy...lets jog!!!...okay 45 minutes...STOP!!!"
What a relief. The next 15 minutes saw friend and me walking back to our rooms taking the support of the walls of every building in the way. We were still clueless of what that bootcamp class was all about, but were too tired to think for the night. Next day morning saw our bottoms, flabby 'abs' and thunder thighs sore (now sore is an understatement) and I still need support to sit, stand and even use the WC!!(have i ever told u that i am an aquaholic...groan!) The suspense was killing me, so went after college to figure out what was it that I underwent....and now the moment of truth...We had walked into the wrong class and the class we attended was aptly called...
BUMS TUMS and THIGHS!!!!
(Ouch!)
Monday, February 25, 2008
On a nice August afternoon 3 years ago….
“Ok..so he is a CA very good…Christian…Roman Catholic..oh even better..so where is he working…oh IT company..hmmmm….not bad…ooh yes yes we know their relatives..very good people….but wait they are from from…WHAT!!...HE IS FROM KOTTAYAM!!!”
……..engaged tone……………
That was how the Big J entered our lives. A father’s second worst fear was coming true when he heard about a marriage proposal for his daughter from the Kottayam side* (the first being marrying a non mallu and/or non roman catholic). So much was Dad’s shock that he didn’t bother to ask the groom’s name or enquire about his family in that call!!! It has been over three years since u entered our lives ‘by law’ and have changed my sister’s and my sense of humour for the worse. Winning the hearts of all the ammachis with your ‘stuti kudukal’**, all the uncles by thrusting a drink in their hand and all the aunties by giving them compliments. And today I am using the ‘power of the internet’ to wish on your birthday cause next year u r officially going to be in ‘old’ men’s league!!!
Happy Birthday Dear Chettan….
Thank you*** for all the sensible advise on life and relations, all the Amsterdam trips, all the expensive shopping, all the confidence boosting sessions, all the ‘how-to-hook-a-guy’ lectures, all the pub hopping and ‘drink all nite’ outings, all the new words in my Malayalam vocabulary, all the ‘places’ I wanted to visit for my desire to be a ‘learned’ person (tho I am still no good)…and thank you for being a BROTHER and not just another BROTHER-IN-LAW….
(* no offence against the Kottayam dudes and dudettes, just another one of Dad’s pet peeves)
(** a Malayalee Christian style of greeting elders which is now not ‘cool’ enough for most of us to follow)
(*** half of the ‘thank you’ applies to your better half too)
“Ok..so he is a CA very good…Christian…Roman Catholic..oh even better..so where is he working…oh IT company..hmmmm….not bad…ooh yes yes we know their relatives..very good people….but wait they are from from…WHAT!!...HE IS FROM KOTTAYAM!!!”
……..engaged tone……………
That was how the Big J entered our lives. A father’s second worst fear was coming true when he heard about a marriage proposal for his daughter from the Kottayam side* (the first being marrying a non mallu and/or non roman catholic). So much was Dad’s shock that he didn’t bother to ask the groom’s name or enquire about his family in that call!!! It has been over three years since u entered our lives ‘by law’ and have changed my sister’s and my sense of humour for the worse. Winning the hearts of all the ammachis with your ‘stuti kudukal’**, all the uncles by thrusting a drink in their hand and all the aunties by giving them compliments. And today I am using the ‘power of the internet’ to wish on your birthday cause next year u r officially going to be in ‘old’ men’s league!!!
Happy Birthday Dear Chettan….
Thank you*** for all the sensible advise on life and relations, all the Amsterdam trips, all the expensive shopping, all the confidence boosting sessions, all the ‘how-to-hook-a-guy’ lectures, all the pub hopping and ‘drink all nite’ outings, all the new words in my Malayalam vocabulary, all the ‘places’ I wanted to visit for my desire to be a ‘learned’ person (tho I am still no good)…and thank you for being a BROTHER and not just another BROTHER-IN-LAW….
(* no offence against the Kottayam dudes and dudettes, just another one of Dad’s pet peeves)
(** a Malayalee Christian style of greeting elders which is now not ‘cool’ enough for most of us to follow)
(*** half of the ‘thank you’ applies to your better half too)
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Going Dutch on a Vicious Cycle
I always look forward to those trips to Chech’s place as the pleasure derived from shopping without looking at the price tags for a chronic miser like me is …well….cannot be expressed in words. This trip, being my 3rd in the last 3 months was extra-special, cause I was confident that I had made some progress on my ‘lose weight’ resolution. So after 4 weeks of jumping in aerobics sessions, running by the side of Thames (evoking laughs from ppl who saw fat girl running), trying to avoid looking at my favourite ‘chewy chocolate cookies’ in the supermarket, I looked forward to the moment when I will stand on the weighing scale and the needle will gladly deflect to the left from my previous weight, when I wear the much sexy outfit and not look outrageous, when I can finally get some looks from deserving men, when I will finally choose a design for the tattoo that I was chickening out all this while. This was also to be my ‘Binge Week’- so in comes the drinks, snack-in-betweens and out goes the salad! I also kept getting info that Chettan (brother-in-law) was also making plans for happening weekend.
With all this optimism I head to the airport. Travelling for the first time with my new reissued passport, the worst of my fears came true. Seeing the foto in my passport (where my look is heavily inspired by a cross of Veerapan and Amy Winehouse), I was escorted for ‘additional’ security checks. Now I am someone who ‘silently’ walks across the metal detectors till date & here I was standing in weird positions (eg standing like a lizard) in front of an invisible X Ray machine!!! Once the woman at the security desk learnt that 'they' are real (not fake as thought 'they' were) and not the new way to conceal ammunition, I was let off... So far so good- I touched Schipol, met Chech-Chettan. Okay so I was jealous seeing that Chech has also lost weight, but I was happy to know that my ‘size XXL’ cheeks where only ‘XL’ this time.
Scene I- After a dinner of pizza I complain of having too much carbs for a day, when I was suggested that I can go cycling. Cycling in Holland, that is like French kiss in France!!
With all this optimism I head to the airport. Travelling for the first time with my new reissued passport, the worst of my fears came true. Seeing the foto in my passport (where my look is heavily inspired by a cross of Veerapan and Amy Winehouse), I was escorted for ‘additional’ security checks. Now I am someone who ‘silently’ walks across the metal detectors till date & here I was standing in weird positions (eg standing like a lizard) in front of an invisible X Ray machine!!! Once the woman at the security desk learnt that 'they' are real (not fake as thought 'they' were) and not the new way to conceal ammunition, I was let off... So far so good- I touched Schipol, met Chech-Chettan. Okay so I was jealous seeing that Chech has also lost weight, but I was happy to know that my ‘size XXL’ cheeks where only ‘XL’ this time.
Scene I- After a dinner of pizza I complain of having too much carbs for a day, when I was suggested that I can go cycling. Cycling in Holland, that is like French kiss in France!!
Scene II- Next second, I am on the cycle, enjoying the Dutch scenery at night and burning all the carbs. We were looking for Chinatown to see the leftovers of the Chinese New Year celebrations and on one of the bridges, I am distracted by the looks of another cyclist crossing my path, wearing aviators at NIGHT!!...
Scene III- I am head over heels or rather ‘cycle’ over heels, shin, ankle, foot’
The passers by surround me, and a woman asks me – “have u broken anything or is it jus a sprain?” With all due respect lady- HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW!! A black ‘gentleman’ [I believe an Usher’s look alike] is lifting the jeans of my right leg, when I had hurt MY LEFT LEG!!! Soon the whole event sank in when Mr. Usher’s look-alike, with his hands stretched out in a chivalrous manner, told me- ‘If ya havent brok’n nythin’ then stan’ up, why yee sittin’ down’. I replied – I need sometime to come to terms with what jus happened and next second he vanished!! I wanted to tell him- dude your women are strong, but we Indian women take more than 45 seconds to come to out senses and STAND UP!!! So there went my "looks from deserving man"...Scene IV- back at home and got to know that the ‘vicious’ cycle had made Chech also ill with ‘over cycling’. For her adventure click here. From then on it was a weekend when Chettan was taking care of 2 beautiful patients. Since I was ‘injured’, partying took a backseat and it was binging all the way- with comfort food like bakhlava, biryani, bbq flavoured chips, bacardi… :~(
But then I also cooked… (yes yes thats my creation..entry sent to Ripley's Believe it or not!)
Ate…
Drank…. (Chettan's Mojito-[read lemonade])
and with restricted mobility there is always ‘tomorrow’ to start exercising :~P
Scene V- The two sisters cast an evil eye on ‘healthy’ Chettan and he is now sitting with a football size foot!
PS: The last time I cycled was 15yrs ago, when I stopped cycling because I fell off the cycle!!
PPS: My Valentine's Day wishlist is out-
1) A cricket team-preferably the Mumbai team
2) 100 or more Reliance Power shares
3)Macbook Air
and no Tata Nano will not do.....
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Malayalam Ariyilla
(Dont know malayalam- when spoken in the 'fake' mallu accent can also mean 'cannot SLICE malayalam')
A little knowledge of malayalam is advisible for this post.
I have read many posts on misadventures of malayalees speaking hindi- some original, some copied. Quite ashamed to admit it, but in my family we have had our embarrassing moments trying to speak our mother tongue- Malayalam.
During those long evening family prayers (when all except Ammachi are alseep), in response to the Litany to the Blessed Mary everyone mechanically responds ‘Njangalku vendi apeyshikanamey’ (pray for us)...Now the jus-returned-from- Ooty-boarding-school uncles in an attempt to actively take part in prayer and listening to Appachan started responding ‘En CONDITIONamey’….
In Malayam, (if I can translate per se) we try to ‘make sure our prayer reaches’ God. (That should explain one and half hour long Sunday mass) My sister is generally good with her Malayalam, except one day when she told father- “Daddy nammakku prarthana CHETHIKYAM”… Dad with the 'why-did-I-bring-these-girls-out-of-Kerala' look, corrects her- ‘Moley prarthana CHETHIKYAM alla, ETHIKYAM (refer to ‘reaching prayer’ logic)’
P.s chettiya has no sensible meaning as far my knowledge of Malayalam goes.
Yours truly- the worst in the lot. My knowledge of Malayalam is purely phonetical and vocabulary mostly picked up from movies or Asianet. If my younger cousins want to outsmart me all they do is ask me the numbers in Malayalam-especially 85 and 95. If they want instant entertainment, copy of Malayalam Manorama is pushed in front of me.
Once sitting and watching Ammachi dry betel nut (adakya) in the sun, I innocently asked Mum- “Ammey idano olakyya”!!! (Dear cousins don’t say ‘olakya’ or ‘thenga kola’ in front of kids). Or the regular question I ask Mum- Amma ente pillowna evidey? (Mum where is my pillow- talona in mallu) The other day I wanted to scrap a malayalee friend ‘endu patti’ (wat happened)..typo error it ended up being ‘enda patti’!!
When I was enrolled in St. Teresas’s school in class 8, girls in class viewed me as the NRK mallu from Bombay and I did get a good share of attention and respect. So much so girls would try (uncomfortably) to speak in English or not talk to me at all. [Little did they know that I was not speaking to them cause I was not comfortable with my malayalam]. In addition, the strict Chemistry teacher was my aunt. So no messing with the new girl in class. Now the tailors were taking more than 3 weeks to stitch the new uniform. On enquiring
Me- Uncle uniform eppo kittum? (wen will I get the uniform)
Tailor- “uniform chuvayazhicha kittum” (u will get the uniform on chuvayazhicha)
Me- “chuvayazhicha paranya” (what is chuvayazhicha )
Tailor- “kuttyikku Malayalam ariyillale- toosday toosday” (kid u don’t know Malayalam. Tuesday)
Now on the way back, I chat with some other northy friends and laugh and say “ooh chuvayazhicha matlab magalwaar” and all of us repeat that line a zillion times in the break. Break ends. Class teacher walks in.
Teacher- “Anndey uniform ready aayile?” (Ann isn’t your uniform ready?)
(Since the question was posed in Malayalam and I was not on guard I respond back in malayalam)
Me- “Illya ma’am. Tailor parayanu enikku uniform MANGALAZHICHA kittum” (No. Tailor said I will get it on MANGALAZHICHA)
Rest is history- I was the butt of jokes in class for the next one week. I was reduced to a normal student and started speaking in broken Malayalam and my friends in English to me...
I am very grateful to my father for taking us out of Kerala because with our family practices, my priorities today would have only been a husband and two kids. But somewhere along the line I regret the fact that I do not know much about my state, my culture, my language (and most of my relatives). And it is sad that most malayalees take pride in saying that they don’t know their language or their culture. And even if they do know, deny it and fake a 'malayalam-is-so-difficult-for-me' accent. And i have noticed this is more among the fairer sex. Those chechis at St. Teresa’s college and convent junction, endless heroines in movies, kitty party aunties in Ernakulam south and rotrary clubs, the funny hostess of Idea Star Singer… What is sadder is that NORMALayalees tend to put these ABNORMALayaless on a pedestal!!
A little knowledge of malayalam is advisible for this post.
I have read many posts on misadventures of malayalees speaking hindi- some original, some copied. Quite ashamed to admit it, but in my family we have had our embarrassing moments trying to speak our mother tongue- Malayalam.
During those long evening family prayers (when all except Ammachi are alseep), in response to the Litany to the Blessed Mary everyone mechanically responds ‘Njangalku vendi apeyshikanamey’ (pray for us)...Now the jus-returned-from- Ooty-boarding-school uncles in an attempt to actively take part in prayer and listening to Appachan started responding ‘En CONDITIONamey’….
In Malayam, (if I can translate per se) we try to ‘make sure our prayer reaches’ God. (That should explain one and half hour long Sunday mass) My sister is generally good with her Malayalam, except one day when she told father- “Daddy nammakku prarthana CHETHIKYAM”… Dad with the 'why-did-I-bring-these-girls-out-of-Kerala' look, corrects her- ‘Moley prarthana CHETHIKYAM alla, ETHIKYAM (refer to ‘reaching prayer’ logic)’
P.s chettiya has no sensible meaning as far my knowledge of Malayalam goes.
Yours truly- the worst in the lot. My knowledge of Malayalam is purely phonetical and vocabulary mostly picked up from movies or Asianet. If my younger cousins want to outsmart me all they do is ask me the numbers in Malayalam-especially 85 and 95. If they want instant entertainment, copy of Malayalam Manorama is pushed in front of me.
Once sitting and watching Ammachi dry betel nut (adakya) in the sun, I innocently asked Mum- “Ammey idano olakyya”!!! (Dear cousins don’t say ‘olakya’ or ‘thenga kola’ in front of kids). Or the regular question I ask Mum- Amma ente pillowna evidey? (Mum where is my pillow- talona in mallu) The other day I wanted to scrap a malayalee friend ‘endu patti’ (wat happened)..typo error it ended up being ‘enda patti’!!
When I was enrolled in St. Teresas’s school in class 8, girls in class viewed me as the NRK mallu from Bombay and I did get a good share of attention and respect. So much so girls would try (uncomfortably) to speak in English or not talk to me at all. [Little did they know that I was not speaking to them cause I was not comfortable with my malayalam]. In addition, the strict Chemistry teacher was my aunt. So no messing with the new girl in class. Now the tailors were taking more than 3 weeks to stitch the new uniform. On enquiring
Me- Uncle uniform eppo kittum? (wen will I get the uniform)
Tailor- “uniform chuvayazhicha kittum” (u will get the uniform on chuvayazhicha)
Me- “chuvayazhicha paranya” (what is chuvayazhicha )
Tailor- “kuttyikku Malayalam ariyillale- toosday toosday” (kid u don’t know Malayalam. Tuesday)
Now on the way back, I chat with some other northy friends and laugh and say “ooh chuvayazhicha matlab magalwaar” and all of us repeat that line a zillion times in the break. Break ends. Class teacher walks in.
Teacher- “Anndey uniform ready aayile?” (Ann isn’t your uniform ready?)
(Since the question was posed in Malayalam and I was not on guard I respond back in malayalam)
Me- “Illya ma’am. Tailor parayanu enikku uniform MANGALAZHICHA kittum” (No. Tailor said I will get it on MANGALAZHICHA)
Rest is history- I was the butt of jokes in class for the next one week. I was reduced to a normal student and started speaking in broken Malayalam and my friends in English to me...
I am very grateful to my father for taking us out of Kerala because with our family practices, my priorities today would have only been a husband and two kids. But somewhere along the line I regret the fact that I do not know much about my state, my culture, my language (and most of my relatives). And it is sad that most malayalees take pride in saying that they don’t know their language or their culture. And even if they do know, deny it and fake a 'malayalam-is-so-difficult-for-me' accent. And i have noticed this is more among the fairer sex. Those chechis at St. Teresa’s college and convent junction, endless heroines in movies, kitty party aunties in Ernakulam south and rotrary clubs, the funny hostess of Idea Star Singer… What is sadder is that NORMALayalees tend to put these ABNORMALayaless on a pedestal!!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Doing fraandsheep on Orkut
“You don’t know Orkut, the whole world is on orkut.”
That line and a dirty stare-like smiley from a friend three years ago was how I was initiated into orkut. Four years back started what I would call a revolution (atleast in India and Brazil)- social networking sites. In the beginning this concept caught my fancy. I met friends with whom I had lost touch for over 5-10 years. Checked out the profiles of the erstwhile high school babes and bitches and got jealous (I am human!). Found all my past crushes, checked out how they looked after all these years and their present relationship status too ;~P. I hate to admit it, but yes orkut is a part of my e-life. Wat makes orkut interesting?
Names- (& u thot I will start with fraandsheep :~P) I thought our parents named us Ram, Shyam, Sita, Gita, Libby, Tibby. But who names their kids ‘trust no one’, ‘love is blind’, ‘don’t believe wat u c’, ‘love knows no boundaries’, 'smell of love ummm...'. What compounds the problem is the display pic- the place is infested with Deepika Padukones, Shahrukh Khans, Che Guevaras, Emma Watsons, Brad Pitts. Do they realise how difficult it is for their scrap recipients to identify them wen they get a scrap from ‘MorOniC WoMaN’ and the profile picture shows Rakhi Sawant or ‘Blessed Gurl’ with Pam Anderson. And we also have stars, hyphens, asterisk marks decorating your name..
Albums- So all of us know that photos in orkut till sometime back were not safe as one could save a pic at the right click of the mouse. But there were (are) still some people who want to put their pic, but still fear and we end up seeing their backs, hand, torn jeans end, eye, a newly-shaped eyebrow, nostril and puppy’s tail, rahul dravid, some hills and valleys..
Foto captions- Some ppl come up with brilliant captions for their pics. Captions like ‘I am hot, am I not?’, ‘isnt she smart?’ [y do u want our opinions too], , a pic with a girl in front of the computer ‘This is what I do when I am boring’.
“Mah-moi” language- Our wannabe-ism has been taken to new heights with this language. So sometimes the new ‘about me’ columns have ‘This is mah life, I live with moi parents’ or photo caption ‘moi sister and ma’. (my heartfelt sympathies for the French.)
This one worries me-
Kiddie champs- Sadly orkut is getting very popular among kids-The Orkuttans and Orkutties and their folks don’t understand the dangers I presume- so we have a random Tia Mol who writes ‘I am not 18 I am jus 9, here to have fun. Relationship status- open marriage, orientation-bicurious’. But that apart there are these dashing heroes, all of 10, putting up their macho pics- a) Where they are wearing ‘full pants’ standing with their chettans and wearing plastic ‘cooling glass’, b) with folks wearing a wet t-shrit in Veegaland and other such concerns . Their ‘ideal match’ is Emma Watson’ or ‘Miley Cyrus’. And they converse in the ‘mah-moi language’ more than teens.
Fraandsheep request- It is through orkut, I learnt that ppl are seeking ‘frandsheep’ and not friendship and that they don’t want to ‘befriend’ you, but rather ‘do frandships’ or ‘make frandsheep to’ you. Take for example
“H@!!!!!!..I'm Gikku,Nw Frm Mavelikara..I would like to Make a Good Friendship with u..(I kno these r usual words of Every Guy to Start a chat with a Gal.) Bt I'm not. I realy like Good Friendships.If U havnt any Objection...... I expecting Ur Rely.. For More abt me go through My Profile.. Take Care.”
Or
“i am a cool dude with good sense of humar as my Existing friends say,i found your name and profile, it's very intresting , if u want to maintain a good friendship
u r most welcome u can reach me @ 98XXXXXXXX”
Followed by the regulars- u r my ‘hart’, ‘sole’, ‘liver’ etc, ‘there is somethOng in you that I like a lot’ (talk abt I and O being next to each other on the keyboard)
I tried to wean myself away from Orkut, but with fraand-requests like this who can live without Orkut :~P
That line and a dirty stare-like smiley from a friend three years ago was how I was initiated into orkut. Four years back started what I would call a revolution (atleast in India and Brazil)- social networking sites. In the beginning this concept caught my fancy. I met friends with whom I had lost touch for over 5-10 years. Checked out the profiles of the erstwhile high school babes and bitches and got jealous (I am human!). Found all my past crushes, checked out how they looked after all these years and their present relationship status too ;~P. I hate to admit it, but yes orkut is a part of my e-life. Wat makes orkut interesting?
Names- (& u thot I will start with fraandsheep :~P) I thought our parents named us Ram, Shyam, Sita, Gita, Libby, Tibby. But who names their kids ‘trust no one’, ‘love is blind’, ‘don’t believe wat u c’, ‘love knows no boundaries’, 'smell of love ummm...'. What compounds the problem is the display pic- the place is infested with Deepika Padukones, Shahrukh Khans, Che Guevaras, Emma Watsons, Brad Pitts. Do they realise how difficult it is for their scrap recipients to identify them wen they get a scrap from ‘MorOniC WoMaN’ and the profile picture shows Rakhi Sawant or ‘Blessed Gurl’ with Pam Anderson. And we also have stars, hyphens, asterisk marks decorating your name..
Albums- So all of us know that photos in orkut till sometime back were not safe as one could save a pic at the right click of the mouse. But there were (are) still some people who want to put their pic, but still fear and we end up seeing their backs, hand, torn jeans end, eye, a newly-shaped eyebrow, nostril and puppy’s tail, rahul dravid, some hills and valleys..
Foto captions- Some ppl come up with brilliant captions for their pics. Captions like ‘I am hot, am I not?’, ‘isnt she smart?’ [y do u want our opinions too], , a pic with a girl in front of the computer ‘This is what I do when I am boring’.
“Mah-moi” language- Our wannabe-ism has been taken to new heights with this language. So sometimes the new ‘about me’ columns have ‘This is mah life, I live with moi parents’ or photo caption ‘moi sister and ma’. (my heartfelt sympathies for the French.)
This one worries me-
Kiddie champs- Sadly orkut is getting very popular among kids-The Orkuttans and Orkutties and their folks don’t understand the dangers I presume- so we have a random Tia Mol who writes ‘I am not 18 I am jus 9, here to have fun. Relationship status- open marriage, orientation-bicurious’. But that apart there are these dashing heroes, all of 10, putting up their macho pics- a) Where they are wearing ‘full pants’ standing with their chettans and wearing plastic ‘cooling glass’, b) with folks wearing a wet t-shrit in Veegaland and other such concerns . Their ‘ideal match’ is Emma Watson’ or ‘Miley Cyrus’. And they converse in the ‘mah-moi language’ more than teens.
Fraandsheep request- It is through orkut, I learnt that ppl are seeking ‘frandsheep’ and not friendship and that they don’t want to ‘befriend’ you, but rather ‘do frandships’ or ‘make frandsheep to’ you. Take for example
“H@!!!!!!..I'm Gikku,Nw Frm Mavelikara..I would like to Make a Good Friendship with u..(I kno these r usual words of Every Guy to Start a chat with a Gal.) Bt I'm not. I realy like Good Friendships.If U havnt any Objection...... I expecting Ur Rely.. For More abt me go through My Profile.. Take Care.”
Or
“i am a cool dude with good sense of humar as my Existing friends say,i found your name and profile, it's very intresting , if u want to maintain a good friendship
u r most welcome u can reach me @ 98XXXXXXXX”
Followed by the regulars- u r my ‘hart’, ‘sole’, ‘liver’ etc, ‘there is somethOng in you that I like a lot’ (talk abt I and O being next to each other on the keyboard)
I tried to wean myself away from Orkut, but with fraand-requests like this who can live without Orkut :~P
Friday, January 04, 2008
New Year Revelations
Lot of revelations happened last year, especially in the last quarter, when I left home for the first time to firang land. Here are a few of them.
- A ‘please’ or ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you’ will only get your work done in England. Never said so many sorry, thank u please ever in my life.
- Even an Englishkaran (Englishman) has problems in understanding my English, which I thought had a neutral accent.
- It is the policy of National Health Services to ask you if u r pregnant on routine check up. It is not that they suspect/ accuse you of being pregnant.
- Don’t get shell-shocked if prophylactic is provided in the ‘student induction pack’.
- I still manage to get ‘looks’ from old 50-65 yr old Englishmen. Wonder y they keep thinking that I am interested in them!!!
- Rajma bursts when heated in a microwave and dal needs to be soaked before it is cooked.
- You have to attend to the milk kept on the hob. The hob doesn’t switch off on its own.
- I look like a Bangladeshi and Dad looks European Chinese (according to my Polish hallmate). And I thought we looked INDIAN!!
- Gatwick Airport resembles Bhatinda railway station as the Europeans also convert their bags into pillows and lie on the couches in the waiting area, thereby not letting others sit.
- Our ‘Cuticura’ is an international brand. Saw it lying in a dutyfree shop.
- When they have no reservations on a train, the Europeans like Indians will sit outside the loos and in some cases even inside.
- Inter City Express (ICE) touches 300km/hr only from Cologne to Frankfurt. (We should have gone further!)
- KÖLN is Cologne (this was my biggest revelation)
- Read about a place the next time I head somewhere. I have to go to Cologne once again to appreciate the Cathedral.
- Eau de Cologne is different from the water flowing in River Rhine through Cologne.
- Fallen snow resembles ice found in a refrigerator without defrost.
- The dumb actresses of the Indian film industry deserve some amount of respect. Its not easy standing on snow with a backless blouse and chiffon saree.
- I should just stick to juice as just one glass ends up making me dance much to the embarrassment of my company. (Disclaimer: I am not a drunkard, I dont go beyond a drink except that one dreaded time)
- Chech and I still look ‘under 18’ [according to German standards] as we were the only ones asked to show our passport for entry. (Man did I feel good!)
- Mum is still not concerned about my advancing age, Dad is still concerned about y he is not receiving any ‘pocket money’ demands from me.
- Ammachi thinks I am a little girl, she still calls me Minukutty (aargh!)
- Never rant about any blog in particular to Chettan to an extent which irritates him. He ended up attacking an unsuspecting fellow blogger, followed by attacks from Chech and yours truly. (Disclaimer: We r a heady mix, but we aren’t as crazy as we appear)
- Chettan is the brother I always wanted (Thank u Chech for the kidilum choice, Chetta- my Euro trip ;~D)
- Chech has become a very good cook, and I have gotten over the paranoia that she is trying to poison me.
- College is the best time of your life and u realise this only when u finish college and land up in an office staring at the computer and trying to sound pleasant and more importantly ‘knowledgeable’ to your clients.
- Office is the best time of your life and you realise this when u land up in college after a 4 month stint in an office and start hating homework and taking down notes in class. Suddenly ‘end of the month’ lost its significance and excitement.
- May be middle of this year when I am out of grad school I will appreciate it more.
- A stricter boss is a better boss. (BFD u r still my best mentor till date)
- There is no place like mum’s kitchen. Never looked forward to idiappam and puttu as I do now (Mum are u listening??)
- There is no better place to study than a room where u can overhear Mum humming. Over the past three months I ‘hear’ silence more often than sound. And there is no better luxury in knowing that ‘Dad will take care of everything’.
- I can never find a replacement for my best friend Vidhi. May our friendship continue forever and ever. Amen
- A ‘please’ or ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you’ will only get your work done in England. Never said so many sorry, thank u please ever in my life.
- Even an Englishkaran (Englishman) has problems in understanding my English, which I thought had a neutral accent.
- It is the policy of National Health Services to ask you if u r pregnant on routine check up. It is not that they suspect/ accuse you of being pregnant.
- Don’t get shell-shocked if prophylactic is provided in the ‘student induction pack’.
- I still manage to get ‘looks’ from old 50-65 yr old Englishmen. Wonder y they keep thinking that I am interested in them!!!
- Rajma bursts when heated in a microwave and dal needs to be soaked before it is cooked.
- You have to attend to the milk kept on the hob. The hob doesn’t switch off on its own.
- I look like a Bangladeshi and Dad looks European Chinese (according to my Polish hallmate). And I thought we looked INDIAN!!
- Gatwick Airport resembles Bhatinda railway station as the Europeans also convert their bags into pillows and lie on the couches in the waiting area, thereby not letting others sit.
- Our ‘Cuticura’ is an international brand. Saw it lying in a dutyfree shop.
- When they have no reservations on a train, the Europeans like Indians will sit outside the loos and in some cases even inside.
- Inter City Express (ICE) touches 300km/hr only from Cologne to Frankfurt. (We should have gone further!)
- KÖLN is Cologne (this was my biggest revelation)
- Read about a place the next time I head somewhere. I have to go to Cologne once again to appreciate the Cathedral.
- Eau de Cologne is different from the water flowing in River Rhine through Cologne.
- Fallen snow resembles ice found in a refrigerator without defrost.
- The dumb actresses of the Indian film industry deserve some amount of respect. Its not easy standing on snow with a backless blouse and chiffon saree.
- I should just stick to juice as just one glass ends up making me dance much to the embarrassment of my company. (Disclaimer: I am not a drunkard, I dont go beyond a drink except that one dreaded time)
- Chech and I still look ‘under 18’ [according to German standards] as we were the only ones asked to show our passport for entry. (Man did I feel good!)
- Mum is still not concerned about my advancing age, Dad is still concerned about y he is not receiving any ‘pocket money’ demands from me.
- Ammachi thinks I am a little girl, she still calls me Minukutty (aargh!)
- Never rant about any blog in particular to Chettan to an extent which irritates him. He ended up attacking an unsuspecting fellow blogger, followed by attacks from Chech and yours truly. (Disclaimer: We r a heady mix, but we aren’t as crazy as we appear)
- Chettan is the brother I always wanted (Thank u Chech for the kidilum choice, Chetta- my Euro trip ;~D)
- Chech has become a very good cook, and I have gotten over the paranoia that she is trying to poison me.
- College is the best time of your life and u realise this only when u finish college and land up in an office staring at the computer and trying to sound pleasant and more importantly ‘knowledgeable’ to your clients.
- Office is the best time of your life and you realise this when u land up in college after a 4 month stint in an office and start hating homework and taking down notes in class. Suddenly ‘end of the month’ lost its significance and excitement.
- May be middle of this year when I am out of grad school I will appreciate it more.
- A stricter boss is a better boss. (BFD u r still my best mentor till date)
- There is no place like mum’s kitchen. Never looked forward to idiappam and puttu as I do now (Mum are u listening??)
- There is no better place to study than a room where u can overhear Mum humming. Over the past three months I ‘hear’ silence more often than sound. And there is no better luxury in knowing that ‘Dad will take care of everything’.
- I can never find a replacement for my best friend Vidhi. May our friendship continue forever and ever. Amen
Friday, December 21, 2007
Dear Santa...
Dear Santa,
Your gift for this Christmas orphan was purrfect. This proves that I have been a good girl this year. I am not going to be lonely for Christmas. :~). But I also know that I am the punishment you are giving that couple in Amsterdam for being very naughty this year. ;~)
Your gift for this Christmas orphan was purrfect. This proves that I have been a good girl this year. I am not going to be lonely for Christmas. :~). But I also know that I am the punishment you are giving that couple in Amsterdam for being very naughty this year. ;~)
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Marriages made in heaven...
As a child, 14th April was the deadline by which we had to reach Trichur (for the uninitiated a place in Kerala) in the summer hols. It was my maternal grandfather's (Appachan) birthday & every year it was celebrated with great pomp & grandeur. All of us remembered Appachan's b'day. But many didn't realise that Ammachi even had one.
One day, on telling Ammachi this, she told me that Appachan also complained about the same thing. Further her b'day was at a time which did not clash with any holidays. & then he had told her that he would do something so that people will remember her b'day.....A few years later he died on her b'day. Appachan did what he promised. People now remember Ammachi's b'day. Because of his popularity in the business community, even business associates remember.
This for me was love in its purest form. They had seen the highs and lows of life. Been there for each other for nearly 50 years. I then see my folks- 2 totally contrasting personalities who have been with each other through thick and thin for 30 years. And there were just two people in these relationships.
Circa 2007. I see people around me. Some with a string of flings behind them, some seeking non-commital sexual relationships (the bastard* didnt want to pay for a service i presume), dangerously flirtatious married people, now with Mr, with Mr Y a few weeks later and these are your average Indians. Am I getting too cynical or am I expecting too much from the world or are we getting too westernised or am I too old fashioned? what happened to marriages like that of Appachan-Ammachi or Dad-Mum?
Call me boring & old fashioned, but i do have a problem in equating sex with just another physical need or a favour for a promotion..
Wedding season has set in. For Xtians starting 26th December all churches, priests, florists, couturiers, saloons etc will get busy. I got the news that my best friend and ex-colleague got married, another cousin is getting engaged (& yet another pregnant & one had a baby-all of them younger to me..sigh!). Some arranged by family and some self-serviced marriages. I am happy for all of them. Hope all ur marriages are like my Appachan-Ammachi’s or Dad-Mum’s and may u live 'happily ever after'.....
* I do not generally swear, but here I think it is justified.
One day, on telling Ammachi this, she told me that Appachan also complained about the same thing. Further her b'day was at a time which did not clash with any holidays. & then he had told her that he would do something so that people will remember her b'day.....A few years later he died on her b'day. Appachan did what he promised. People now remember Ammachi's b'day. Because of his popularity in the business community, even business associates remember.
This for me was love in its purest form. They had seen the highs and lows of life. Been there for each other for nearly 50 years. I then see my folks- 2 totally contrasting personalities who have been with each other through thick and thin for 30 years. And there were just two people in these relationships.
Circa 2007. I see people around me. Some with a string of flings behind them, some seeking non-commital sexual relationships (the bastard* didnt want to pay for a service i presume), dangerously flirtatious married people, now with Mr, with Mr Y a few weeks later and these are your average Indians. Am I getting too cynical or am I expecting too much from the world or are we getting too westernised or am I too old fashioned? what happened to marriages like that of Appachan-Ammachi or Dad-Mum?
Call me boring & old fashioned, but i do have a problem in equating sex with just another physical need or a favour for a promotion..
Wedding season has set in. For Xtians starting 26th December all churches, priests, florists, couturiers, saloons etc will get busy. I got the news that my best friend and ex-colleague got married, another cousin is getting engaged (& yet another pregnant & one had a baby-all of them younger to me..sigh!). Some arranged by family and some self-serviced marriages. I am happy for all of them. Hope all ur marriages are like my Appachan-Ammachi’s or Dad-Mum’s and may u live 'happily ever after'.....
* I do not generally swear, but here I think it is justified.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Unique-ly yours!!
(yay! my first tag)..listening to Blue Danube Waltz celebrating the end of my first term....
Tagged by agent Egg Bonda (because of whom i hv watched Sound of Music 4 times in the past 2 weeks), i am expected to disclose unique things i possess.
i dont possess anything unique as Chech. (but i shall steal some of them this Xmas and make my room unique) But I think the sentimental value associated with some of them is wat makes them 'unique'..atleast to me.
5 Unique Things Found in My Room
1) A rosary which i picked up from the one and only retreat centre (in and around Trichur) i visited in my life.
2) An old dupatta of Mum's which she gave me to use as a rag(!!!). But it is not yet used as rag..guess i am getting emotionally attached to it.
3) 3 different plastic bags for 1) biodegradable waste, 2) glass and plastics, 3) paper [environment friendly Ann :~) ]
4) Brochures and pamphlets which are invitation to college parties, tube farelist, day trips out of london, tabloids containing lousy gossip which i use as coasters and tablemats.
5) A tastelessly done collage containing pics of my close friends and family. (also revealing the gradual increase in my weight over the years)
5 Unique Things Found in My Wallet
1) My college Id card which entitles me to highly important things like discount at Subway & other eateries, tube etc. and entry to half the buildings in college.
2) Some Austrailan 'chillar' (change) which i have been carrying with me ever since my eventful trip to Melbourne 2 yrs ago.
3) A very old visiting card of Dad's in the hope that his presence will forever be on my wallet (okay at least till next year)
4) Rs. 130 given by Dad at the airport just in case i wanted to get anything at the airport.
5) A note from sis wishing me 'Good luck in London' which came in the pocket of my 'life-saving-in-winter' jacket that she sent me.
5 Unique Things Found in My Bag
1) A copy of 'London A to Z' (which i never consult to navigate my way through this city as I have always managed to get lost with it) and college map (why have classrooms in various nearby buildings too)
2) A windcheater. It rains anytime and everytime here or at least wenever i am in the 'exploring' mood.
3) Black ink pen and passport size fotos. Thanx to the englishmen's fixation for 'black ink pen' for completing practically every form. The foto is back up option as many a times i was made to queue up again because i didnt have a foto!
4) The 17 yr old watch which was actually gifted to my sister wen she was 10. I upsurped it & wore that to all my exams. Its like a goodluck charm. However now only the dial is left. NO strap, no battery.
5) My room key which works on some weird technology that most of the time either i am locked out or everyone expect me can open the door.
So thats wat is 'un-uniquely unique' abt me...
Tagged by agent Egg Bonda (because of whom i hv watched Sound of Music 4 times in the past 2 weeks), i am expected to disclose unique things i possess.
i dont possess anything unique as Chech. (but i shall steal some of them this Xmas and make my room unique) But I think the sentimental value associated with some of them is wat makes them 'unique'..atleast to me.
5 Unique Things Found in My Room
1) A rosary which i picked up from the one and only retreat centre (in and around Trichur) i visited in my life.
2) An old dupatta of Mum's which she gave me to use as a rag(!!!). But it is not yet used as rag..guess i am getting emotionally attached to it.
3) 3 different plastic bags for 1) biodegradable waste, 2) glass and plastics, 3) paper [environment friendly Ann :~) ]
4) Brochures and pamphlets which are invitation to college parties, tube farelist, day trips out of london, tabloids containing lousy gossip which i use as coasters and tablemats.
5) A tastelessly done collage containing pics of my close friends and family. (also revealing the gradual increase in my weight over the years)
5 Unique Things Found in My Wallet
1) My college Id card which entitles me to highly important things like discount at Subway & other eateries, tube etc. and entry to half the buildings in college.
2) Some Austrailan 'chillar' (change) which i have been carrying with me ever since my eventful trip to Melbourne 2 yrs ago.
3) A very old visiting card of Dad's in the hope that his presence will forever be on my wallet (okay at least till next year)
4) Rs. 130 given by Dad at the airport just in case i wanted to get anything at the airport.
5) A note from sis wishing me 'Good luck in London' which came in the pocket of my 'life-saving-in-winter' jacket that she sent me.
5 Unique Things Found in My Bag
1) A copy of 'London A to Z' (which i never consult to navigate my way through this city as I have always managed to get lost with it) and college map (why have classrooms in various nearby buildings too)
2) A windcheater. It rains anytime and everytime here or at least wenever i am in the 'exploring' mood.
3) Black ink pen and passport size fotos. Thanx to the englishmen's fixation for 'black ink pen' for completing practically every form. The foto is back up option as many a times i was made to queue up again because i didnt have a foto!
4) The 17 yr old watch which was actually gifted to my sister wen she was 10. I upsurped it & wore that to all my exams. Its like a goodluck charm. However now only the dial is left. NO strap, no battery.
5) My room key which works on some weird technology that most of the time either i am locked out or everyone expect me can open the door.
So thats wat is 'un-uniquely unique' abt me...
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Dream to dare
(for ppl in the real world [as contrasted with the blogosphere] who know me this post will leave them in splits)
In my dreams…
I am a wild girl constantly ‘living on the edge’ or a biker babe. Myself dressed in the trademark riding jacket, boots, gloves, waterproof jeans, helmet et al…(zzzzzippp- fastening my jacket) zooming past the motorways. Going on a road trip on my bike…zzzzoooommm…..
Or
I am a don’s moll, constantly showered with costly gifts by my gangster-drug dealer Don. In the dimly lit-with neon-lamps discotheques which my Don owns I shall give my special sexy performance (where I will be wearing a gold sequined slinky dress and high heels). And in a room in the top floor, Don shall be threatening a middleman for messing with the cocaine consignment and eventually shooting him point blank. Of course I am also having an affair with the doorkeeper of the disc.(wonder y but even in reality I find the disc doorkeepers with their long overcoats, blue tooth devices/bugs(I think that’s wat they are called) in their ear and stern face so hot!)
Or
I am a Baywatch lifeguard. In this particular dream I am blonde (Pamelaji ki Jai!!). Wearing the red swimsuit, standing on my watchtower keeping an eye on the beach with my yellow binoculars. And when I hear the frantic call ‘help! help!’ I make the dramatic 'slow-motion' run towards the water and rescue him. Of course later myself and hunk (who I jus rescued) go on a date and then kiss with the sunset in the background.
In real life…
A law student trying to finish her reading before class, understand wat is being told in class, (as incomplete readings lead to incomplete comprehension), hope to clear her exams and get a job with her new found postgraduate status. Adventure quotient- nil, Social life- practically nil, Party scene- nil, Love life- what is that?
I cannot handle a normal TVS Scooty, forget handling a superbike. Infact I can’t even ride a bike. Drugs, deals, dons petrify me. I haven’t been to a disc/bar unless accompanied by brother-in-law or sister (and I also have the dubious distinction of being the only one landing up in track pants on a Friday nite) Imagine the sight of me introducing my doorkeeper boyfriend to my folks (i.e. if the Don spares us both). Red swimsuits and tanned bodies- my attempts at learning how to swim ended with me being highly hydrophobic, so much so that even a powerful bathroom shower can scare me off. And I will be charged for the offence of obscenity and indecent representation of women if I try to fit into a swimsuit and run. (huff pant pant…)
The closest I got to an exciting life was wen I was caught by the receptionist returning back to my hall on this early Saturday morning (the first time ever). Trying to sneak in without waking him up, I tip toe into the hall when
Receptionist: Hello young lady
Me: (deer caught by a headlight look) ooh! Hi good morning..
R: Well it sure is a good morning for u, isn’t it? (giving a cheeky smile looking like 'i caught u coming back from ur boyfriend's place')
Me: (trying to act brave, simultaneously walking to the door)..hahaha..well then have a nice day..
R: u sure did have a nice day afterall right… (nodding cheeky smile again)
I am a wild girl constantly ‘living on the edge’ or a biker babe. Myself dressed in the trademark riding jacket, boots, gloves, waterproof jeans, helmet et al…(zzzzzippp- fastening my jacket) zooming past the motorways. Going on a road trip on my bike…zzzzoooommm…..
Or
I am a don’s moll, constantly showered with costly gifts by my gangster-drug dealer Don. In the dimly lit-with neon-lamps discotheques which my Don owns I shall give my special sexy performance (where I will be wearing a gold sequined slinky dress and high heels). And in a room in the top floor, Don shall be threatening a middleman for messing with the cocaine consignment and eventually shooting him point blank. Of course I am also having an affair with the doorkeeper of the disc.(wonder y but even in reality I find the disc doorkeepers with their long overcoats, blue tooth devices/bugs(I think that’s wat they are called) in their ear and stern face so hot!)
Or
I am a Baywatch lifeguard. In this particular dream I am blonde (Pamelaji ki Jai!!). Wearing the red swimsuit, standing on my watchtower keeping an eye on the beach with my yellow binoculars. And when I hear the frantic call ‘help! help!’ I make the dramatic 'slow-motion' run towards the water and rescue him. Of course later myself and hunk (who I jus rescued) go on a date and then kiss with the sunset in the background.
In real life…
A law student trying to finish her reading before class, understand wat is being told in class, (as incomplete readings lead to incomplete comprehension), hope to clear her exams and get a job with her new found postgraduate status. Adventure quotient- nil, Social life- practically nil, Party scene- nil, Love life- what is that?
I cannot handle a normal TVS Scooty, forget handling a superbike. Infact I can’t even ride a bike. Drugs, deals, dons petrify me. I haven’t been to a disc/bar unless accompanied by brother-in-law or sister (and I also have the dubious distinction of being the only one landing up in track pants on a Friday nite) Imagine the sight of me introducing my doorkeeper boyfriend to my folks (i.e. if the Don spares us both). Red swimsuits and tanned bodies- my attempts at learning how to swim ended with me being highly hydrophobic, so much so that even a powerful bathroom shower can scare me off. And I will be charged for the offence of obscenity and indecent representation of women if I try to fit into a swimsuit and run. (huff pant pant…)
The closest I got to an exciting life was wen I was caught by the receptionist returning back to my hall on this early Saturday morning (the first time ever). Trying to sneak in without waking him up, I tip toe into the hall when
Receptionist: Hello young lady
Me: (deer caught by a headlight look) ooh! Hi good morning..
R: Well it sure is a good morning for u, isn’t it? (giving a cheeky smile looking like 'i caught u coming back from ur boyfriend's place')
Me: (trying to act brave, simultaneously walking to the door)..hahaha..well then have a nice day..
R: u sure did have a nice day afterall right… (nodding cheeky smile again)
Me: (by then ran up to my room)
[I let him live in the misconception that he is in, little does he know that I was at my friend’s place last nite and cudnt get a bus back from her shady area!!! At least somebody thinks I have a happening life!]
[I let him live in the misconception that he is in, little does he know that I was at my friend’s place last nite and cudnt get a bus back from her shady area!!! At least somebody thinks I have a happening life!]
Sunday, December 02, 2007
I amsterdAM!
Kehte hain agar kisi cheez ko dil se chaho toh poori kaynaat usey tumse milane ki koshish mein lag jaati hai....
After reading The Alchemist, I did start believing in destiny. I do look out for signs. Ever since I reached London, the thing on my mind, after (‘wat to eat for the next meal’) was when I will be invited to Amsterdam by Chech and husband, Chettan(ok I correct myself-wen i will get a 'relatively' free weekend to go-the it ws an open invitation). I wished for it ‘poore dil se’ and did have an eventful trip….
Sign 1- My visa was processed in 5 hours contrary to the regular practice of 24 hours. All thanx to over cautious approach to the documents by sister and the kind lady at the counter. (also thanks Dad for all money invested in my dental braces for my charming smile-I brushed my teeth twice that money). Although I had to spend the entire day in beautiful-in-autumn Kensington Garden without a camera and became frozen meat due to insufficient dressing, (I dressed according to central London weather!) the wait was worth it. I proudly called up Chech saying- Breakfast in London, dinner in Amsterdam.
Sign 2- Woken up at 9 for a class at 10 by Chech, I was warned to not be late for the flight. According to my calculations, to reach Heathrow at 3.15 I had to take the 2.15 tube. Reaching the platform I was reminded of Rajiv Chowk metro station!!! There was not an inch of space left all thanx to maintainece work on Picadilly Line. But 3 yrs Delhi Metro experience and a few months exposure to Mumbai Local, I was the first to get into the tube.
A journey which was to last for 50 minutes, took 90 minutes. Then the real action began. Everyone at Terminal 4 on that day would have testified that they saw a crazy Indian girl running about the terminal between 15.45 hrs to 16.15 hrs on 16 Nov 2007.
15.45
Ran out of the tube, hit a few passers-by, dropped a glove, ran back to collect it, took the lift, ran to the BA counter, looked puzzled at the boarding pass ‘vending’ machine only to be helped by a customer services member.
15.53
Running to the security line and I met an interesting man who was blocking my way while I was trying to pass him, on being asked, told him my flight takes of at 16.05! Good enough to let me ahead, we were stuck at the counter. Took out laptop, metallic things on person, jacket, i-pod, cell fone (which rang while in the X-machine-making me look suspicious to the English cop), shoes…(the next time they might just expect us to strip right there). During this entire exercise, the interesting man tells me BA will put me on the next flight and there was a huge public transport problem in central London.
16.00
Ran (again) to the BA counter to be told to run FASTER to gate #. With only Indian airport experience, I expect gates to be in one line, each at a distance of 10 baby steps apart. But run as much I did, gate # was far far away.
16.02
Reached the gate (pant huff puff!!). Sardar BA official called up the pilot and then turned to me saying Miss Jose (pronouncing it HOSSEY- I am not Hispanic plz plz) “u jus missed ur flight”. [Come on dude u can do something, u Indian, me Indian..but how wud u know I am Indian, u keep calling me HOSSEY!!]
16.04
Chech called “Are u in the flight…no…it says ‘last call’..u can still catch it”
“Chech I missed the flight”
“…………….silence…………” (Thinking- how many times have I told her to be on time)
“Well they told me go to flight connections”
“Ok..bye” (Thinking- my money!!)
16.06
Chettan- “Don’t worry..u take the next flight. If need be buy a ticket for the next flight”
“what…are u sure?...ok” (Thinking- The next flight only has business class, cheapest being GBP 385, I don’t think he checked it)
16.09
Running (yet again) to flight connections, I put up the famous ‘damsel in distress’ act- explaining to them how I was harassed by the Piccadilly line, its maintenance and Indian style tardiness. The act successful, I was put on the next flight with no extra charges but with a warning that the tube is not trustworthy and I should learn from this lesson.
16.15
Dad- “So u r on ur flight to meet chechi”
“Dad I missed my flight”
“……silence……” (Thinking- eeh kochine kondu thotu- basically this girl has crossed all limits)
“but I have been put on the next flight and that’s an hour later”
“ok…but are u in a safe place??? "
“huh??...Dad airport terminal…duty free shops..safe of course” (Thinking- its Heathow ppl ppl everywhere)
“Oh ok then, DON’T MISS UR NEXT FLIGHT” (Thinking- She in a dutyfree shop is not a safe place for me especially when her monthly bill comes)
Sign 3
22.00
I amsterdAM!!!!
Moral of the story: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”....Apart from this ‘want’, I also had the desire to overcome my laziness and start exercising. That was also fulfilled on this trip- in A’dam, I ran behind buses, trams, trains and even a PLANE!!
End mein sab theek ho jaata hai…Happys Endings!!!
for pics (if interested) check out-http://picasaweb.google.com/annmjose
(i am just a rookie though)
After reading The Alchemist, I did start believing in destiny. I do look out for signs. Ever since I reached London, the thing on my mind, after (‘wat to eat for the next meal’) was when I will be invited to Amsterdam by Chech and husband, Chettan(ok I correct myself-wen i will get a 'relatively' free weekend to go-the it ws an open invitation). I wished for it ‘poore dil se’ and did have an eventful trip….
Sign 1- My visa was processed in 5 hours contrary to the regular practice of 24 hours. All thanx to over cautious approach to the documents by sister and the kind lady at the counter. (also thanks Dad for all money invested in my dental braces for my charming smile-I brushed my teeth twice that money). Although I had to spend the entire day in beautiful-in-autumn Kensington Garden without a camera and became frozen meat due to insufficient dressing, (I dressed according to central London weather!) the wait was worth it. I proudly called up Chech saying- Breakfast in London, dinner in Amsterdam.
Sign 2- Woken up at 9 for a class at 10 by Chech, I was warned to not be late for the flight. According to my calculations, to reach Heathrow at 3.15 I had to take the 2.15 tube. Reaching the platform I was reminded of Rajiv Chowk metro station!!! There was not an inch of space left all thanx to maintainece work on Picadilly Line. But 3 yrs Delhi Metro experience and a few months exposure to Mumbai Local, I was the first to get into the tube.
A journey which was to last for 50 minutes, took 90 minutes. Then the real action began. Everyone at Terminal 4 on that day would have testified that they saw a crazy Indian girl running about the terminal between 15.45 hrs to 16.15 hrs on 16 Nov 2007.
15.45
Ran out of the tube, hit a few passers-by, dropped a glove, ran back to collect it, took the lift, ran to the BA counter, looked puzzled at the boarding pass ‘vending’ machine only to be helped by a customer services member.
15.53
Running to the security line and I met an interesting man who was blocking my way while I was trying to pass him, on being asked, told him my flight takes of at 16.05! Good enough to let me ahead, we were stuck at the counter. Took out laptop, metallic things on person, jacket, i-pod, cell fone (which rang while in the X-machine-making me look suspicious to the English cop), shoes…(the next time they might just expect us to strip right there). During this entire exercise, the interesting man tells me BA will put me on the next flight and there was a huge public transport problem in central London.
16.00
Ran (again) to the BA counter to be told to run FASTER to gate #. With only Indian airport experience, I expect gates to be in one line, each at a distance of 10 baby steps apart. But run as much I did, gate # was far far away.
16.02
Reached the gate (pant huff puff!!). Sardar BA official called up the pilot and then turned to me saying Miss Jose (pronouncing it HOSSEY- I am not Hispanic plz plz) “u jus missed ur flight”. [Come on dude u can do something, u Indian, me Indian..but how wud u know I am Indian, u keep calling me HOSSEY!!]
16.04
Chech called “Are u in the flight…no…it says ‘last call’..u can still catch it”
“Chech I missed the flight”
“…………….silence…………” (Thinking- how many times have I told her to be on time)
“Well they told me go to flight connections”
“Ok..bye” (Thinking- my money!!)
16.06
Chettan- “Don’t worry..u take the next flight. If need be buy a ticket for the next flight”
“what…are u sure?...ok” (Thinking- The next flight only has business class, cheapest being GBP 385, I don’t think he checked it)
16.09
Running (yet again) to flight connections, I put up the famous ‘damsel in distress’ act- explaining to them how I was harassed by the Piccadilly line, its maintenance and Indian style tardiness. The act successful, I was put on the next flight with no extra charges but with a warning that the tube is not trustworthy and I should learn from this lesson.
16.15
Dad- “So u r on ur flight to meet chechi”
“Dad I missed my flight”
“……silence……” (Thinking- eeh kochine kondu thotu- basically this girl has crossed all limits)
“but I have been put on the next flight and that’s an hour later”
“ok…but are u in a safe place??? "
“huh??...Dad airport terminal…duty free shops..safe of course” (Thinking- its Heathow ppl ppl everywhere)
“Oh ok then, DON’T MISS UR NEXT FLIGHT” (Thinking- She in a dutyfree shop is not a safe place for me especially when her monthly bill comes)
Sign 3
22.00
I amsterdAM!!!!
Moral of the story: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it”....Apart from this ‘want’, I also had the desire to overcome my laziness and start exercising. That was also fulfilled on this trip- in A’dam, I ran behind buses, trams, trains and even a PLANE!!
End mein sab theek ho jaata hai…Happys Endings!!!
for pics (if interested) check out-http://picasaweb.google.com/annmjose
(i am just a rookie though)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Sibling revelry
Warning: Chech-Both of us are not very ‘vocal’ about our feelings, piss offs and craziest thoughts, but this time I guess it’s the weekend hangover that has led to this verbal diarrhoea.
As the youngest at home, life was fun as my folks didn’t experiment their parenting skills on me coz they were all tried and tested on big sister- Chech or Chechu as I call her. I was entitled to the bigger serving of ice-cream and the last piece of chocolate, not subjected to corporal punishment and always talked back to my folks. On the flipside, my middle name was entailed to rhyme with hers (malayalee parents fear being in breach of Section 3(2)(ii) of Kerala (Nonsensical Names) Act, 1951), received all hand-me-downs, wore similar clothes (I am sure that was mum’s way of saving money) and was constantly compared to the ‘well mannered, hardworking, less talkative’ sister.
From Rivalry…..
For some inexplicable reason, I was born with no hair on my head and 4 year old Chechu (who had jus received a ‘live’ doll) used to call me ‘motta vava’ (bald baby). She even composed a funny but irritating jingle on the bald ‘beauty’ (ahem). As a child, I always thought that I was adopted because Chech’s baptism, ‘1st birthday’, holy communion et al were ‘social’ events which relatives attended and mine were just a formality. And the child prodigy that Chech was, reaffirmed this fear. She convincingly told me that a scary looking man, appearing in an old album back home, had plans to finish off Dad, but then spared him subject to me being given to him when I complete 10 years of age [Dad agreed to give me off coz I was the adopted one]. And the stupid kid that I was, would count on my fingers how many years were left. (and I couldn’t beyond 3!!!)
Not that I was an angel in disguise. Whenever I sensed that Dad was unhappy with Chech’s studies, I would run and get the biggest ‘eerkkili’ (broomstick) for her punishment. We fought tooth and nail for frivolous things like remote control (cartoon network versus MTV), stationery, chocolates till Mum intervened saying – “ooh eeh kochungale kondu thotu!” (I have given up on these kids). She had the neat handwriting, systematic approach to study (waking up at 4.30 to prepare for her Chartered Accountancy exams), a voracious reader blah blah & blah and I was constantly told to ‘learn from her’. In a nut shell, she had made my life a living hell and I would tell people how lucky they were coz they didn’t a have sister like Chech. I wanted nothing to do with her.
….to Revelry
Times have changed now. We both look nearly alike (bad news for me coz she is 4 yrs elder!!!!). She lives with her ‘charming’ husband- (Chettan) just an hour away by flight and that is what keeps me sane here. The loser that I am, moved out of home just 2 months back. From being the carefree butterfly (though I doubt if my weight will permit me to defy gravity), I am forced to do my cooking, cleaning, washing and studying- apart from worrying about work prospects next year. Theories on mergers and acquisitions, pending laundry, bank account, what to prepare for dinner all in one go!!
Chech has, to an extent, now taken Mum’s place (as mum doesn’t talk much on the fone, and I need to ‘talk’ abt life’s happenings and not-so-happenings, not ‘write’ abt them in emails) especially when she says ‘get up get up its 5.15’. Her cooking has improved by leaps and bounds (if I describe her kitchen skills 5 years back she will sue me for defamation). I have special interest in her professional and financial success as it is directly proportional to the gifts I am showered with. (get the hint Chech, I am coming with more food requests next time). She always keeps a check on me & the gossip at my end- her’s and Chettan’s latest worry being my lack of lady like elegance and premature ageing.
Back from a much awaited weekend trip to Amsterdam. My clumsy nature made the process of getting the visa, hopping on the flight and the events thereafter surprising-embarrassing-and-fun in that order (details of which shall be elaborated later). But what I enjoyed the most was being carefree once again.
Now I tell people how lucky I am to have a sister like her. Further due to her, I now have a big brother(in-law) who provides all the fun element and sensible advice. (How much hv I flattered u today) Years back we were the good Roman Catholic girls who went to church and Sunday class every week. Thanx to Chettan’s sangria, last Sunday night we were two lightly drunk women (our first time ever) standing at a tram stop remembering those crazy childhood days, singing the ‘motta vava’ jingle and giggling. Chech just imagine what if Dad had seen us there??!??!
As the youngest at home, life was fun as my folks didn’t experiment their parenting skills on me coz they were all tried and tested on big sister- Chech or Chechu as I call her. I was entitled to the bigger serving of ice-cream and the last piece of chocolate, not subjected to corporal punishment and always talked back to my folks. On the flipside, my middle name was entailed to rhyme with hers (malayalee parents fear being in breach of Section 3(2)(ii) of Kerala (Nonsensical Names) Act, 1951), received all hand-me-downs, wore similar clothes (I am sure that was mum’s way of saving money) and was constantly compared to the ‘well mannered, hardworking, less talkative’ sister.
From Rivalry…..
For some inexplicable reason, I was born with no hair on my head and 4 year old Chechu (who had jus received a ‘live’ doll) used to call me ‘motta vava’ (bald baby). She even composed a funny but irritating jingle on the bald ‘beauty’ (ahem). As a child, I always thought that I was adopted because Chech’s baptism, ‘1st birthday’, holy communion et al were ‘social’ events which relatives attended and mine were just a formality. And the child prodigy that Chech was, reaffirmed this fear. She convincingly told me that a scary looking man, appearing in an old album back home, had plans to finish off Dad, but then spared him subject to me being given to him when I complete 10 years of age [Dad agreed to give me off coz I was the adopted one]. And the stupid kid that I was, would count on my fingers how many years were left. (and I couldn’t beyond 3!!!)
Not that I was an angel in disguise. Whenever I sensed that Dad was unhappy with Chech’s studies, I would run and get the biggest ‘eerkkili’ (broomstick) for her punishment. We fought tooth and nail for frivolous things like remote control (cartoon network versus MTV), stationery, chocolates till Mum intervened saying – “ooh eeh kochungale kondu thotu!” (I have given up on these kids). She had the neat handwriting, systematic approach to study (waking up at 4.30 to prepare for her Chartered Accountancy exams), a voracious reader blah blah & blah and I was constantly told to ‘learn from her’. In a nut shell, she had made my life a living hell and I would tell people how lucky they were coz they didn’t a have sister like Chech. I wanted nothing to do with her.
….to Revelry
Times have changed now. We both look nearly alike (bad news for me coz she is 4 yrs elder!!!!). She lives with her ‘charming’ husband- (Chettan) just an hour away by flight and that is what keeps me sane here. The loser that I am, moved out of home just 2 months back. From being the carefree butterfly (though I doubt if my weight will permit me to defy gravity), I am forced to do my cooking, cleaning, washing and studying- apart from worrying about work prospects next year. Theories on mergers and acquisitions, pending laundry, bank account, what to prepare for dinner all in one go!!
Chech has, to an extent, now taken Mum’s place (as mum doesn’t talk much on the fone, and I need to ‘talk’ abt life’s happenings and not-so-happenings, not ‘write’ abt them in emails) especially when she says ‘get up get up its 5.15’. Her cooking has improved by leaps and bounds (if I describe her kitchen skills 5 years back she will sue me for defamation). I have special interest in her professional and financial success as it is directly proportional to the gifts I am showered with. (get the hint Chech, I am coming with more food requests next time). She always keeps a check on me & the gossip at my end- her’s and Chettan’s latest worry being my lack of lady like elegance and premature ageing.
Back from a much awaited weekend trip to Amsterdam. My clumsy nature made the process of getting the visa, hopping on the flight and the events thereafter surprising-embarrassing-and-fun in that order (details of which shall be elaborated later). But what I enjoyed the most was being carefree once again.
Now I tell people how lucky I am to have a sister like her. Further due to her, I now have a big brother(in-law) who provides all the fun element and sensible advice. (How much hv I flattered u today) Years back we were the good Roman Catholic girls who went to church and Sunday class every week. Thanx to Chettan’s sangria, last Sunday night we were two lightly drunk women (our first time ever) standing at a tram stop remembering those crazy childhood days, singing the ‘motta vava’ jingle and giggling. Chech just imagine what if Dad had seen us there??!??!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
London-y Snickets- A Series of Embarrassing Events
Absence from the blogsphere for a long time (like anyone cared!) is blamed on my inability to manage time efficiently. A lot has happened ever since I saw “The Namesake” (no I did not paint my full name as a graffiti on the walls of Mumbai- the innumerable C-grade movie posters didn’t spare any brick of the wall). I left my traineeship and got an Annie McBeal certificate. Since the boss was left speechless seeing my performance, he asked my goodself to prepare the certificate. I shopped for 20 days and packed everything into 3 bags and left the country to fufill my teenage dream- to meet Prince William! (he is balding and re-engaged but he still is in the second in line to the throne). On a serious note, I thought a li’l bit of London education may save my future employers.
The Journey
All my bags are packed, I ready to go
I am standing here outside the check-in counter
I hate to unpack all the excess baggage
Coz I am leaving on a jet (airways) plane
1) 20 days of shopping for an entire academic year. Linen, towels, cutlery, stationery, spices, pots, pans and finally some clothes..all packed into 3 bags.
Permitted weight = 28 + 23.
Packed weight = 35 + 33.
Finally checked-in weight = 30+ 25
Value of left behind Excess baggage= Priceless
Stares from the nearby people straight into my suitcase = Embarrassing
Lesson learnt- always weigh your luggage before a trip
2) When Mumbai was hot and happening at 35 C, my goodself was the only person in the airport with a sweater and a padded jacket (which made goodself look like an eskimo) and drawing unwanted stares from the NRIs. (you wore the same out-of-season clothes the first time u left the country!!!!)
Lesson learnt- ignore them.
3) Seated comfortably in the flight, goodself thot- lets watch some in-flight entertainment. So all buttons on the remote is pressed, touch screen is touched again and again till fingerprints ruined the screen, passengers seated nearby look and think ‘another FOB student’ and laughs and goodself thinks-‘Oh another IT onsite FOB’. In 15 minutes all misconceptions cleared- IT onsite dude is not an FOB, but a frequent flier (overheard conversation with third passenger) and the touch screen works once the inflight announcements take place and hence he laughed.
Lesson learnt- don’t turn on the entertainment as soon as u take ur seat. Be patient and wait for the flight to take off.
4) Dinner is served and it is some chicken achari roll (sounds good tasted ridiculous). The roll came in a cover double its size and goodself tries to put her hand all the way through, but the role doesn’t come out. IT-frequent flier-dude again laughs and then jus rolls down the cover half way till the actual achari roll is reached.
Lesson learnt- when u know not what to do, jus watch what others are doing (mebbe u too could get a chance to laugh). Your greed can wait!
5) The flight lands after circling London city 6-7 times as its too foggy for the ATC to give clearance and then thud! The flight touched the ground...(yay! I am in Lundun). All the passengers rush to the door and goodself thinks ‘dude this is Mumbai local train behaviour’ and casually wears the jacket, straps the laptop and pulls of the ‘overweight’ inflight bag (managing to look like an FOB all the more). People rushing all the way, running down the escalators. Soon the suspense ends at the immigration counter (or ‘UK BORDER’ as it is written in bold letters). At 6 am the rush at the counter resembled the crowd outside ‘Jalsa’ for Bacchan Jr’s wedding and it will take an hour to ‘cross’ the UK border.
Lesson learnt- the ‘Mumbai local train’ rule is universally applied at every international airport.
6) Lucky I was to meet a student (SM) also heading to my college and she suggests that we take the tube to our hall. Goodself had planned on taking the ‘sexy taxi’ (the famous black cab). Once across the trolley limit, the real adventure begins- getting our heavy luggage (each person pushing-tugging [I refrain from using the word ‘carrying’ which we were incapable of doing due to the weight] upto 70 kgs) to the tube. Goodself gets frustrated and comes up with the bright idea- THROW THE LUGGAGE down the escalator. So SM pushes the bag from the top, the bag tumbles and reaches goodself upside down, in the process also providing some comic relief to the passers-by.
Lesson learnt- Always travel light. (u get over the rupee-pound conversion soon)
7) So goodself reaches Holborn, again tugs at her luggage and manages to look helpless. An Indian student visiting London takes pity and helps. Together we pull down the luggage on the stairs and the wheels go manage to irritate everyone present.
Lesson learnt- Never do this when ur folks who funded the new luggage is around u..i was picturising the look on my folks face- the thot scared me.
8) Goodself stands on Kingsway hoping a ‘sexy taxi’ comes by…waits..waits..waits..(thinks-I SHUD have taken the cab at the airport)..waits..waits…(WTF!!!)…waits…waits..soon a cab finally comes..tells the cab driver ‘please take me to Drroorry lane’..he says ‘what’..goodself repeats.. ‘drrooorrry lane its jus the parallel street’..he says.. ‘oh druhry lane..i didn’t understand’!!
Lesson learnt- Even if English is the only language u can speak, don’t think the world will understand u. I thought my English was good, (I pronounce ‘r’ like the Americans do, not ‘arr’) but guess I was wrong.
9) Seats herself inside..nice ..wow I am in the sexy taxi..looks straight ahead to find the meter and sees the fare running at pace faster than the second needle in a clock. Reaches her destination and pays 6 pounds for a 3 minute ride. (Heathrow to Holborn- 45 minute ride-4 pounds!!)
Lesson learnt- the taxi is not that sexy afterall.
10) Goodself is now at her ‘home’ for the next 9 months and she didn’t know how to pronounce the name of the building. But this time smart enough, she did not take the name of the building, but quietly showed the offer letter and carefully overheard the receptionist talking over the fone and learnt pronunciation.
Conclusion- it might seem that I learnt all my lessons in 12 hours. But this is not the end of the story. More events happened but if I sit to write all of that I will not be prepared for tomorrow’s class. (what I actually meant to say is that it wud jus bore u to the core)
The Journey
All my bags are packed, I ready to go
I am standing here outside the check-in counter
I hate to unpack all the excess baggage
Coz I am leaving on a jet (airways) plane
1) 20 days of shopping for an entire academic year. Linen, towels, cutlery, stationery, spices, pots, pans and finally some clothes..all packed into 3 bags.
Permitted weight = 28 + 23.
Packed weight = 35 + 33.
Finally checked-in weight = 30+ 25
Value of left behind Excess baggage= Priceless
Stares from the nearby people straight into my suitcase = Embarrassing
Lesson learnt- always weigh your luggage before a trip
2) When Mumbai was hot and happening at 35 C, my goodself was the only person in the airport with a sweater and a padded jacket (which made goodself look like an eskimo) and drawing unwanted stares from the NRIs. (you wore the same out-of-season clothes the first time u left the country!!!!)
Lesson learnt- ignore them.
3) Seated comfortably in the flight, goodself thot- lets watch some in-flight entertainment. So all buttons on the remote is pressed, touch screen is touched again and again till fingerprints ruined the screen, passengers seated nearby look and think ‘another FOB student’ and laughs and goodself thinks-‘Oh another IT onsite FOB’. In 15 minutes all misconceptions cleared- IT onsite dude is not an FOB, but a frequent flier (overheard conversation with third passenger) and the touch screen works once the inflight announcements take place and hence he laughed.
Lesson learnt- don’t turn on the entertainment as soon as u take ur seat. Be patient and wait for the flight to take off.
4) Dinner is served and it is some chicken achari roll (sounds good tasted ridiculous). The roll came in a cover double its size and goodself tries to put her hand all the way through, but the role doesn’t come out. IT-frequent flier-dude again laughs and then jus rolls down the cover half way till the actual achari roll is reached.
Lesson learnt- when u know not what to do, jus watch what others are doing (mebbe u too could get a chance to laugh). Your greed can wait!
5) The flight lands after circling London city 6-7 times as its too foggy for the ATC to give clearance and then thud! The flight touched the ground...(yay! I am in Lundun). All the passengers rush to the door and goodself thinks ‘dude this is Mumbai local train behaviour’ and casually wears the jacket, straps the laptop and pulls of the ‘overweight’ inflight bag (managing to look like an FOB all the more). People rushing all the way, running down the escalators. Soon the suspense ends at the immigration counter (or ‘UK BORDER’ as it is written in bold letters). At 6 am the rush at the counter resembled the crowd outside ‘Jalsa’ for Bacchan Jr’s wedding and it will take an hour to ‘cross’ the UK border.
Lesson learnt- the ‘Mumbai local train’ rule is universally applied at every international airport.
6) Lucky I was to meet a student (SM) also heading to my college and she suggests that we take the tube to our hall. Goodself had planned on taking the ‘sexy taxi’ (the famous black cab). Once across the trolley limit, the real adventure begins- getting our heavy luggage (each person pushing-tugging [I refrain from using the word ‘carrying’ which we were incapable of doing due to the weight] upto 70 kgs) to the tube. Goodself gets frustrated and comes up with the bright idea- THROW THE LUGGAGE down the escalator. So SM pushes the bag from the top, the bag tumbles and reaches goodself upside down, in the process also providing some comic relief to the passers-by.
Lesson learnt- Always travel light. (u get over the rupee-pound conversion soon)
7) So goodself reaches Holborn, again tugs at her luggage and manages to look helpless. An Indian student visiting London takes pity and helps. Together we pull down the luggage on the stairs and the wheels go manage to irritate everyone present.
Lesson learnt- Never do this when ur folks who funded the new luggage is around u..i was picturising the look on my folks face- the thot scared me.
8) Goodself stands on Kingsway hoping a ‘sexy taxi’ comes by…waits..waits..waits..(thinks-I SHUD have taken the cab at the airport)..waits..waits…(WTF!!!)…waits…waits..soon a cab finally comes..tells the cab driver ‘please take me to Drroorry lane’..he says ‘what’..goodself repeats.. ‘drrooorrry lane its jus the parallel street’..he says.. ‘oh druhry lane..i didn’t understand’!!
Lesson learnt- Even if English is the only language u can speak, don’t think the world will understand u. I thought my English was good, (I pronounce ‘r’ like the Americans do, not ‘arr’) but guess I was wrong.
9) Seats herself inside..nice ..wow I am in the sexy taxi..looks straight ahead to find the meter and sees the fare running at pace faster than the second needle in a clock. Reaches her destination and pays 6 pounds for a 3 minute ride. (Heathrow to Holborn- 45 minute ride-4 pounds!!)
Lesson learnt- the taxi is not that sexy afterall.
10) Goodself is now at her ‘home’ for the next 9 months and she didn’t know how to pronounce the name of the building. But this time smart enough, she did not take the name of the building, but quietly showed the offer letter and carefully overheard the receptionist talking over the fone and learnt pronunciation.
Conclusion- it might seem that I learnt all my lessons in 12 hours. But this is not the end of the story. More events happened but if I sit to write all of that I will not be prepared for tomorrow’s class. (what I actually meant to say is that it wud jus bore u to the core)
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Birthday resolution
....a lot happened since i snatched the 'annie mcbeal' certificate from my( no ex-boss)....i realised that an idle mind is definitely a devils workshop...today I turned a year older and decided to get back to things i like..now I AM BACK!!!!!...and this time hopefully to stay!!!....
PS i purposely took this resolution on my birthday and not on new yrs as the latter resolutions r meant to be broken....
PS i purposely took this resolution on my birthday and not on new yrs as the latter resolutions r meant to be broken....
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