Another story about my colleague AR. Today as we were working with great focus on our individual projects, a colleague of ours K ventured into our area. She was wearing this cute dress over a pair of jeans.
K happens to be on the healthier side. In our country, most ignorant fools simply call that "FAT". She stood behind AR and began to behave like a little girl by spreading her dress and going round in circles. While she kept spinning, she sang the age old song from the Nirma advert which is embedded in the head of every Indian that grew up in the 90's.
For those who don't know, Nirma happens to be one of our very first detergents that came into the market years ago. It's just an inherent part of our culture. It was famous for its jingle and the spinning little girl in a white dress who became part of their identity. So, this is how it went.
K (singing like a little girl): "Nirma..Nirma...Nirma detergent tikiya, iske jhaaaaag ne jadoo kar diya"
AR: Bade pack waala. ( On a large pack, that is.)
Then very meekly and discreetly he mumbles:
"K aur jhoot. Yeh dooni cheez kabhi nahin chupti." (K and lies are two things that just can't hide)
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Glass girl
Soon after I arrived at work about half an hour ago, my colleague AR who sits next to me and is an absolute entertainer, let out one of his classic bizarre comments which had all of us in peals of laughter.YET AGAIN.
Tiny(as we fondly call her is a small framed, emaciated girl ) started troubling him by swinging his chair back and forth. AR was concentrating intensely on a project that he needs to turn in urgently. So, this is how it went.
AR: Aye Shaani ( smartie)
Tiny: Hee haa haa (still swinging his chair violently like an uncontrollable naughty child)
AR: Ayye Shaani, glass daloonga na toh andar hi padi rahegi poora din. (I'll put a glass over you na then you'll sit in there all day)
CHORUS: Ha ha ha ha hee hee hee ha ha ha.
Tiny(as we fondly call her is a small framed, emaciated girl ) started troubling him by swinging his chair back and forth. AR was concentrating intensely on a project that he needs to turn in urgently. So, this is how it went.
AR: Aye Shaani ( smartie)
Tiny: Hee haa haa (still swinging his chair violently like an uncontrollable naughty child)
AR: Ayye Shaani, glass daloonga na toh andar hi padi rahegi poora din. (I'll put a glass over you na then you'll sit in there all day)
CHORUS: Ha ha ha ha hee hee hee ha ha ha.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Ghanta Singh
This happened about a year ago when my family moved to our new house which we live in now.
Our older place is about 15 minutes away and my father took rounds every single day for about a month to transfer stuff from one place to another. On one such day when we reached our new place by car, my father was trying to park the car outside the gate of the colony. Simultaneously, a man behind us in his car was trying to do the same. He rolled down his window and gestured to my father to move on up to make some more space for him but my father politely pointed to him that there was no space.The man then muttered something and rolled up his window. What followed was something that was so bizarre that I was too embarrassed to relate this account to anyone for a long time after that. I have now fully recovered from the incident.
My father got out of the car and started mumbling something while sniffing violently and incessantly. I shall elaborate on that. About 25 odd years ago, my father had to undergo a surgery for his deviated septum which wasn't quite successful. The surgery left him with a unique side effect of sniffing. My father is perpetually sniffing. It's second to breathing for him and we have become so accustomed to it that we don't realize how that might sound to people otherwise. When he gets angry and has to make an attempt to suppress it while his blood is boiling inside him, his sniffing gets louder and faster and sounds very scary to the ones who know him. It's also often punctuated with deep Santa laughs which go "Ho Ho Ho". One can tell it's the lull before the storm. Except that it's not really that calm and more like a "It's gonna blow, oooowowowow...Volcano" moment.
Anyway so back to where we were. At this point, my father was sniffing real loud and fast. This is when my senses began to pick up the clue of something unpleasant having happened. Except that I couldn't quite understand what and why. All I could hear between loud sniffs was this one sentence which made me think " Did I just hear that?" So, this is what happened.
Man in car rolls up his window while muttering something. My dad and I get out of the car and I begin to walk ahead. My dad behind me starts sniffing like a matador and between several Ho Ho Hos mumbles " If I am Santa Singh then you are Ghanta Singh". I pause, think "Did I just hear that?" and retrace my steps. I ask my father what happened. My father refuses to answer and begins to walk ahead. I look back at the man in car with a confused expression on my face. He rolls down his window. equally confused and to the back of my fathers head genuinely exclaims " Sir....I just said Okay, fantastic".
Go figure.
Our older place is about 15 minutes away and my father took rounds every single day for about a month to transfer stuff from one place to another. On one such day when we reached our new place by car, my father was trying to park the car outside the gate of the colony. Simultaneously, a man behind us in his car was trying to do the same. He rolled down his window and gestured to my father to move on up to make some more space for him but my father politely pointed to him that there was no space.The man then muttered something and rolled up his window. What followed was something that was so bizarre that I was too embarrassed to relate this account to anyone for a long time after that. I have now fully recovered from the incident.
My father got out of the car and started mumbling something while sniffing violently and incessantly. I shall elaborate on that. About 25 odd years ago, my father had to undergo a surgery for his deviated septum which wasn't quite successful. The surgery left him with a unique side effect of sniffing. My father is perpetually sniffing. It's second to breathing for him and we have become so accustomed to it that we don't realize how that might sound to people otherwise. When he gets angry and has to make an attempt to suppress it while his blood is boiling inside him, his sniffing gets louder and faster and sounds very scary to the ones who know him. It's also often punctuated with deep Santa laughs which go "Ho Ho Ho". One can tell it's the lull before the storm. Except that it's not really that calm and more like a "It's gonna blow, oooowowowow...Volcano" moment.
Anyway so back to where we were. At this point, my father was sniffing real loud and fast. This is when my senses began to pick up the clue of something unpleasant having happened. Except that I couldn't quite understand what and why. All I could hear between loud sniffs was this one sentence which made me think " Did I just hear that?" So, this is what happened.
Man in car rolls up his window while muttering something. My dad and I get out of the car and I begin to walk ahead. My dad behind me starts sniffing like a matador and between several Ho Ho Hos mumbles " If I am Santa Singh then you are Ghanta Singh". I pause, think "Did I just hear that?" and retrace my steps. I ask my father what happened. My father refuses to answer and begins to walk ahead. I look back at the man in car with a confused expression on my face. He rolls down his window. equally confused and to the back of my fathers head genuinely exclaims " Sir....I just said Okay, fantastic".
Go figure.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Break the spell
It's taken me a while to do this. I don't know why though. Maybe I do but there are too many answers to why. Some of which vaguely translate into the following:
1. I make many gigantic mountains out of A molehill.
2. The past few days have been a series of dreams. Slipping into dream after dream. Cyclic dreams.
3. I didn't know how to start. Where to start. What to say. How to say. So I foolishly gave up.
4. I chicken out at the drop of a hat. Abscond for a long time after that.(Oh (Sigh) A poet)
BOO
1. I make many gigantic mountains out of A molehill.
2. The past few days have been a series of dreams. Slipping into dream after dream. Cyclic dreams.
3. I didn't know how to start. Where to start. What to say. How to say. So I foolishly gave up.
4. I chicken out at the drop of a hat. Abscond for a long time after that.(Oh (Sigh) A poet)
BOO
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
STD
AK and I decided to talk online. It was his very first time. AK happens to be technologically handicapped. It's his fundamental lack of gizmo knowledge that brought us together. That story will be told another day. He is gay, highly dramatic, has a sharp, disgusting tongue and is in love with himself. Just a bit from our conversation:
AK: Bitch, just come online. Give me your ID.
ME: Give me yours. It's easier that way.
AK: Okay. It's c.o.lo.u einsteadofr purple
ME: (Pause) What?
AK: C.o.lo.u e instead of r purple.
ME: (Long silence) What? Why?
AK: I typed it in the dark.
ME: Okay.
AK: So what's happening in your boring life?
ME: Nothing much really. And you?
AK: You know what? Today I went to a doctor and I discovered I have an STD.So then I had to take tests and get all kinds of pills. Then I had to go to a Orthopediatrist for my back and he also gave me some pills. So sad na. Why am I getting all this?
ME: You're getting old.
AK: No. I'm just a diseased personality.
AK: Oh wow. What are these? Hee Hee Hee Hee. What is this dolly doing?
(bow)
(emo)
(u)
(puke)
(hug)
(sun)
(rain)
AK: They are so cute. Send me some na please.
ME: Oh my God. Here you go.
(flex)
(punch)
AK: Oh oh oh oh. Why are you hitting the poor dolly? Please please don't hit her
ME: Okay. Who the fuck is dolly?
AK: These dollies. They're so sweet.
(makeup)
Me: Oh my God. You mean the smilies?
AK: Whatever.
Me: I think I have a crush on my boss.
AK: Ohhhhhhhh.Same here. That always happens to me. I always have crushes on my boss.
And my subordinates.
And my juniors.
And my customers.
Ohhh. Just like you.
AK: Bitch, just come online. Give me your ID.
ME: Give me yours. It's easier that way.
AK: Okay. It's c.o.lo.u einsteadofr purple
ME: (Pause) What?
AK: C.o.lo.u e instead of r purple.
ME: (Long silence) What? Why?
AK: I typed it in the dark.
ME: Okay.
AK: So what's happening in your boring life?
ME: Nothing much really. And you?
AK: You know what? Today I went to a doctor and I discovered I have an STD.So then I had to take tests and get all kinds of pills. Then I had to go to a Orthopediatrist for my back and he also gave me some pills. So sad na. Why am I getting all this?
ME: You're getting old.
AK: No. I'm just a diseased personality.
AK: Oh wow. What are these? Hee Hee Hee Hee. What is this dolly doing?
(bow)
(emo)
(u)
(puke)
(hug)
(sun)
(rain)
AK: They are so cute. Send me some na please.
ME: Oh my God. Here you go.
(flex)
(punch)
AK: Oh oh oh oh. Why are you hitting the poor dolly? Please please don't hit her
ME: Okay. Who the fuck is dolly?
AK: These dollies. They're so sweet.
(makeup)
Me: Oh my God. You mean the smilies?
AK: Whatever.
Me: I think I have a crush on my boss.
AK: Ohhhhhhhh.Same here. That always happens to me. I always have crushes on my boss.
And my subordinates.
And my juniors.
And my customers.
Ohhh. Just like you.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Government of Kalimpong
This happened about 4 years ago. I think I recounted this incident so many times that I had to force myself to forget about it, lest it lost its humour. This took place between my friend RM who'd come to stay with me for a while and my father. She belongs to a little town near Darjeeling called Kalimpong which is why she has typical north eastern features. Most ignorant people mistake her for being oriental and so a foreigner. Everything but Indian.
A little bit about my father. My father is 61 years old with a mop of thick black hair (no, he doesn't colour them). He marvels at absolutely everything in this world. His reaction to most things are "WO" (for WOW). It could be something as mundane as a train. ( I didn't say that to rhyme. In London we were sitting in the tube when another one passed us with my father exclaiming "WOH" very promptly to break the silence. So anyway,this is how it went:
Father: "So RM, where are you from?"
RM: "Kalimpong".
Father: "Ohhh. WO. Kalimpong. Achha achha. What does your mother do?"
RM: " She works for the government"
Father (very matter of factly): "Oh ho ho. Very nice. Government of Kalimpong. "
A little bit about my father. My father is 61 years old with a mop of thick black hair (no, he doesn't colour them). He marvels at absolutely everything in this world. His reaction to most things are "WO" (for WOW). It could be something as mundane as a train. ( I didn't say that to rhyme. In London we were sitting in the tube when another one passed us with my father exclaiming "WOH" very promptly to break the silence. So anyway,this is how it went:
Father: "So RM, where are you from?"
RM: "Kalimpong".
Father: "Ohhh. WO. Kalimpong. Achha achha. What does your mother do?"
RM: " She works for the government"
Father (very matter of factly): "Oh ho ho. Very nice. Government of Kalimpong. "
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Massage Parlour
Yesterday was one of those days in the train when I was sandwiched so badly between women that one could name a special after me in a subway joint. On my way back from work, I took the train during peak hour. BIG MISTAKE. However, it gets me home faster so I should be able to endure sweaty armpits, dry hair tickling my face, elbows digging into my chest and high heels grinding my feet for 35 minutes. Also, how can I forget the pure entertainment that women provide with their fights and absolutely original dialogues.
I have come to realize that traveling by train can be very therapeutic for people. It's a platform for everyone to come de-stress and relax. I can almost imagine a flier much like those adorned by a compartment saying the following.
"Had a bad day? Vent it out in the train. Your boss yelled at you? Make sure you take it out on someone in the train for best results! Will leave you refreshed,relaxed and at peace. Love life at it's worst? Take that frustration out right here! Grope all you want! Make sure you leave the other person gasping for some more fragrant sweaty armpits!"
Apart from the mental relief a train journey leaves you with, it also provides you with a great workout. Being pushed around almost like a tidal wave can literally do wonders for you.In fact, a woman in the train yesterday articulated my exact feelings.
She got in at a stop from one side and had to go to the other side for her stop which was just 2 stations away.Between the two doors are women clammed onto each other, gasping for breath and stuck in positions that could compete with a yoga aasana. This woman who we'll call "Loudspeaker" for she couldn't stop yelling at the top of her voice was annoying everyone with her constant commentary. Another woman who we'll call "Slow" was trying to get out of the very door where loudspeaker stood. She was stuck deep inside and had to get off at the next stop.In super fast Marathi and at a decibel that pierced through 70 eardrums, she yelled over about 30 heads:
Loudspeaker: "Arre Madam, where do you have to get off?"
Slow: "Next stop."
Loudspeaker: "And it struck you now?"
Slow: "Arre...how can I make it through this crowd"
Loudspeaker: "Well exactly why you should have thought of that earlier. Were you fast asleep. Move fast to make some space for us. My god. You are so slow. You'll have to dance your way through.
Another woman remarks quietly: "Oh this stupid woman just keeps shouting."
Loudspeaker: "Haaaan... Me shouting because Idiot woman standing only. My stop coming. Woman coming next year"
Slow gyrating violently: "I'm trying..see na"
Loudspeaker: "Oh My god...are you going to massage everyone on your way over now?"
I have come to realize that traveling by train can be very therapeutic for people. It's a platform for everyone to come de-stress and relax. I can almost imagine a flier much like those adorned by a compartment saying the following.
"Had a bad day? Vent it out in the train. Your boss yelled at you? Make sure you take it out on someone in the train for best results! Will leave you refreshed,relaxed and at peace. Love life at it's worst? Take that frustration out right here! Grope all you want! Make sure you leave the other person gasping for some more fragrant sweaty armpits!"
Apart from the mental relief a train journey leaves you with, it also provides you with a great workout. Being pushed around almost like a tidal wave can literally do wonders for you.In fact, a woman in the train yesterday articulated my exact feelings.
She got in at a stop from one side and had to go to the other side for her stop which was just 2 stations away.Between the two doors are women clammed onto each other, gasping for breath and stuck in positions that could compete with a yoga aasana. This woman who we'll call "Loudspeaker" for she couldn't stop yelling at the top of her voice was annoying everyone with her constant commentary. Another woman who we'll call "Slow" was trying to get out of the very door where loudspeaker stood. She was stuck deep inside and had to get off at the next stop.In super fast Marathi and at a decibel that pierced through 70 eardrums, she yelled over about 30 heads:
Loudspeaker: "Arre Madam, where do you have to get off?"
Slow: "Next stop."
Loudspeaker: "And it struck you now?"
Slow: "Arre...how can I make it through this crowd"
Loudspeaker: "Well exactly why you should have thought of that earlier. Were you fast asleep. Move fast to make some space for us. My god. You are so slow. You'll have to dance your way through.
Another woman remarks quietly: "Oh this stupid woman just keeps shouting."
Loudspeaker: "Haaaan... Me shouting because Idiot woman standing only. My stop coming. Woman coming next year"
Slow gyrating violently: "I'm trying..see na"
Loudspeaker: "Oh My god...are you going to massage everyone on your way over now?"
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Pappiwaala shaadi
A few days ago, my colleague who I have discussed before in great detail shared a highly entertaining piece of his brothers experience with us at work. To begin with, an absolutely absurd act on his part astounded me. However, I got past that to understand the deeper meaning that is Life. For those who can't understand Hindi, I am sorry but I couldn't possibly translate this. The nuances of a language are far too beautiful and complex to be translated. For those who do, imagine this coming out of the mouth of a 35 year old animated Bengali bachelor with an accent which is a mixture of British/ Bengali/ Hyderabadi cultures. Also, please realize he related this with great earnest.
A started walking around the office with a pair of track pants and t-shirt, trying his best to get people to smell them for a reason I couldn't possibly decipher at that moment. For I could evidently see that he had been wearing that pair for Yoga everyday for as long as I could remember. He duck-walked over to me and shoved the pair under my nose to my utter disgust.
A: "Arre...soongh ke toh dekh...arre dekh na"
Me: "Nahin...chee...how disgusting..you wear this for Yoga everyday na"
A:" Haan..lekin kuch badboo nahin hai...dekh to sahi..try toh maar yaar"
Me : (Pretending to take a quick whiff) "Arre haan ... nahin hai"
A: "Haan...Main ek mahine se yeh pahanu hoon (to a crowd that had gathered to witness his obnoxious behaviour) ...mere paseene mein kucch badboo nahin hai..."
Me: "Arre..evaporate ho gaya hoga"
A: "Paagal ho gayi hai kya...paseena evaporate thodi na hota hai...mere paseene mein badboo nahin hai...thode logon mein kya badboo nikalta hai...bole toh ekdum khatarnak badboo hoti hai jo hila ke rakh deta hai sabko...Ek baar mere jo bhaiya hai...uska na shaadi hone wala tha. Aur bhaabhi aayi thi na joh...waah..kya bhabhi the yaar. Bole toh, itni khoobsurat thi..aisa laga bhaabhi nahin, meri biwi hone ka tha usko. Toh bhaiya aur bhaabhi picture dekhne gayen haan..aur bhaiya ne woh corner waali seat book ki thi. Toh picture dekte dekhte..woh dono kareeb aaye, aur bhaiya bhaabhi ko kiss karne gaya haan. Jaise woh uske nazdeek gaya toh bhaabhi ke munh se kya badboo nikli...badboo bole toh ekdum dhansoon type ki joh behosh karke rakh de kisi ko.Baap re, bhaiya bhaag gaya udhar se. "
Me: "So sad ya.....toh shaddi nahin huyi kya? "
A: "Aur nahin toh kya. Nahin huyi shaadi."
Me: "Shit ya. Bad breath ki wajah se toot gayi? That is so sad."
A: "So sad kya. Woh shaadi thodi na hai. Yeh toh bina pappiwaala shaddi hua."
A started walking around the office with a pair of track pants and t-shirt, trying his best to get people to smell them for a reason I couldn't possibly decipher at that moment. For I could evidently see that he had been wearing that pair for Yoga everyday for as long as I could remember. He duck-walked over to me and shoved the pair under my nose to my utter disgust.
A: "Arre...soongh ke toh dekh...arre dekh na"
Me: "Nahin...chee...how disgusting..you wear this for Yoga everyday na"
A:" Haan..lekin kuch badboo nahin hai...dekh to sahi..try toh maar yaar"
Me : (Pretending to take a quick whiff) "Arre haan ... nahin hai"
A: "Haan...Main ek mahine se yeh pahanu hoon (to a crowd that had gathered to witness his obnoxious behaviour) ...mere paseene mein kucch badboo nahin hai..."
Me: "Arre..evaporate ho gaya hoga"
A: "Paagal ho gayi hai kya...paseena evaporate thodi na hota hai...mere paseene mein badboo nahin hai...thode logon mein kya badboo nikalta hai...bole toh ekdum khatarnak badboo hoti hai jo hila ke rakh deta hai sabko...Ek baar mere jo bhaiya hai...uska na shaadi hone wala tha. Aur bhaabhi aayi thi na joh...waah..kya bhabhi the yaar. Bole toh, itni khoobsurat thi..aisa laga bhaabhi nahin, meri biwi hone ka tha usko. Toh bhaiya aur bhaabhi picture dekhne gayen haan..aur bhaiya ne woh corner waali seat book ki thi. Toh picture dekte dekhte..woh dono kareeb aaye, aur bhaiya bhaabhi ko kiss karne gaya haan. Jaise woh uske nazdeek gaya toh bhaabhi ke munh se kya badboo nikli...badboo bole toh ekdum dhansoon type ki joh behosh karke rakh de kisi ko.Baap re, bhaiya bhaag gaya udhar se. "
Me: "So sad ya.....toh shaddi nahin huyi kya? "
A: "Aur nahin toh kya. Nahin huyi shaadi."
Me: "Shit ya. Bad breath ki wajah se toot gayi? That is so sad."
A: "So sad kya. Woh shaadi thodi na hai. Yeh toh bina pappiwaala shaddi hua."
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Dense
Post a meeting with a client in their fancy office which is far, far away from the long hands of my firm, sat S and I quaintly in a corner.
S: "Should we go get a bite in the fancy cafeteria that this guy (the client) was talking about?"
Me : "Yeah, sure."
S: "Cool. We'll just snack and head out."
At the counter while we were deciding to order.
S: "Let's have french fries!"
Me: "I don't eat fried food"
S: "Oh. Oh. You're not eating anything fried. Acha Hmm..."
"Cool.Let's have chole and samosa then! "
Moral of the story : The next time I say something like that , I really should mean it.
S: "Should we go get a bite in the fancy cafeteria that this guy (the client) was talking about?"
Me : "Yeah, sure."
S: "Cool. We'll just snack and head out."
At the counter while we were deciding to order.
S: "Let's have french fries!"
Me: "I don't eat fried food"
S: "Oh. Oh. You're not eating anything fried. Acha Hmm..."
"Cool.Let's have chole and samosa then! "
Moral of the story : The next time I say something like that , I really should mean it.
Back to Square One
23 drafts, 2 months, 6,59,36,692 contemplative thoughts later, I'm finally back here. Square one. To me that is inherent of the game I played as a child. " Hopscotch". Never bothered to spell that out earlier. So I don't know if that's right.
BUT the point being that after much revision of various things, I have finally managed to post something here. Spontaneously. In a flash of 2 minutes, my brain goes through a complicated process that is well defined by the term " endless petty fixation". If I were to get into the ways of that, it would be indecipherable so here's a preview:
1. What should I eat for dinner today?
2. How will I find the time to make that?
3. Man, I really have to do something.
4. I have to draw.
5. Oh, I should blog about that.
6. When?
7. Oh, I haven't exercised in 5 days.
8. What should I eat tomorrow?
9. I have to try that thing in Photoshop.
10. When?
Imagine the more complicated derivatives of these and some which I'd rather not reveal lest I sound like a social retard.
Phew. I feel like I unloaded a 100 kilos of iron after this.
BUT the point being that after much revision of various things, I have finally managed to post something here. Spontaneously. In a flash of 2 minutes, my brain goes through a complicated process that is well defined by the term " endless petty fixation". If I were to get into the ways of that, it would be indecipherable so here's a preview:
1. What should I eat for dinner today?
2. How will I find the time to make that?
3. Man, I really have to do something.
4. I have to draw.
5. Oh, I should blog about that.
6. When?
7. Oh, I haven't exercised in 5 days.
8. What should I eat tomorrow?
9. I have to try that thing in Photoshop.
10. When?
Imagine the more complicated derivatives of these and some which I'd rather not reveal lest I sound like a social retard.
Phew. I feel like I unloaded a 100 kilos of iron after this.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sleep
I got back from work about an hour ago. Had a lousy day. My senior was extremely frustrated with me because my bloody brain refused to understand a single word of what he was saying. It does that sometimes.
My brain has its good days and terribly bad days. Good days are those when it can look past petty issues and keep racking till it gets something done. Bad days are those when it refuses to understand anything of what is happening even it might be the most simple thing on earth which any normal human being can understand. People talk about good hair days and bad hair days. I have my good and bad Brain days. Then there are those Brain dead days when the intelligent, comprehensive and sensible part of the Brain is nowhere to be found.
How do people go on with every single day of their life being completely sensible, normal and unperturbed is a mystery to me.(It is for real, I see it all the time)A real fucking mystery.All I want to do right now is to curl up in bed and hopelessly pray that time will stop and cease to run for a long long time.
Anyway, the sooner I snap out of this school era like fantasy, the better it is. I'd better skip to more grown up things like life,love, goals, dreams etc.
Except that I have none of those. I have nightmares instead that wake me up every single day at 4:37 am in the morning. Then I wake up and think to myself "Oh I have just another hour more to sleep so make the most of it"! Then I don't because I spend the next one hour in an anxious subconscious state of mind fretting over the fact that I don't have much time till I wake up. Yeah, not much has changed since I was 10.
Then I go about things in a zombie like manner till I get on to my train and rush to work. It's such a mechanical way of doing everything. One day I shall take you through my day in detail. It's very boring and very mundane. However, it makes for good entertainment in bits and pieces.
I should retire to bed now. Give the mangled mess inside what it starts dreaming of from the very moment it wakes up in the morning. Sleep.
My brain has its good days and terribly bad days. Good days are those when it can look past petty issues and keep racking till it gets something done. Bad days are those when it refuses to understand anything of what is happening even it might be the most simple thing on earth which any normal human being can understand. People talk about good hair days and bad hair days. I have my good and bad Brain days. Then there are those Brain dead days when the intelligent, comprehensive and sensible part of the Brain is nowhere to be found.
How do people go on with every single day of their life being completely sensible, normal and unperturbed is a mystery to me.(It is for real, I see it all the time)A real fucking mystery.All I want to do right now is to curl up in bed and hopelessly pray that time will stop and cease to run for a long long time.
Anyway, the sooner I snap out of this school era like fantasy, the better it is. I'd better skip to more grown up things like life,love, goals, dreams etc.
Except that I have none of those. I have nightmares instead that wake me up every single day at 4:37 am in the morning. Then I wake up and think to myself "Oh I have just another hour more to sleep so make the most of it"! Then I don't because I spend the next one hour in an anxious subconscious state of mind fretting over the fact that I don't have much time till I wake up. Yeah, not much has changed since I was 10.
Then I go about things in a zombie like manner till I get on to my train and rush to work. It's such a mechanical way of doing everything. One day I shall take you through my day in detail. It's very boring and very mundane. However, it makes for good entertainment in bits and pieces.
I should retire to bed now. Give the mangled mess inside what it starts dreaming of from the very moment it wakes up in the morning. Sleep.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Backlog Stress
I haven't written in ages. The reason primarily being I have been very productive and constructive at work and haven't wasted any time doing other mundane things. (I am not implying Blogging here by the way)
Then I'd think to myself that I will write over the weekend when I have absolutely no work to do and creative ideas will flow through my veins like blood and make its way through to the tips of my fingers which will then be in contact with the keyboard and ultimately appear as this wonderful blog post. Well I know now for sure that that never happens.
So today. Which is the end of my wasted weekend, I sit here two hours before my pre-planned bed time to finally get something out of my system.
Before I go on, I would like to announce the news about me discontinuing writing here from now on. Simply because I revealed too much about my workplace and my co-workers' names and also passing on this information to other fellow colleagues. So I no longer can pretend to be an exciting and mysterious blogger who writes about obviously unnecessary things about people. That's also why I haven't been able to write.
Apart from that I also introduced some family members to this blog before I could even blossom into a witty, interesting and entertaining writer.
So that explains the shift.
Today I have had this innate, unbearable desire to get the fuck out of here and do something that doesn't involve spending 60 hours of work in the week glued to a seat, racking my brains to come up with one innovative and creative idea after another. I love my job. I really do. Sometimes though. Okay, most times I just wish I was working this hard in another city in another part of the world which is not as crowded and not as noisy. Where for a piece of peace and quiet, I didn't have to pay an exorbitant amount in a coffee shop. Where if I chose to go out for a walk, I didn't have to dread bumping into a million people on the way. Have my head saturated with a zillion sounds of automobiles and people fighting and yelling which mix ever so well with my own thoughts that I can't tell this from that.
I shouldn't be complaining and whining like the dog outside my building who sits quietly under a car and keeps howling. I love that dog though. It's like a budding, crooning Jeff Buckley waiting to be released.(No offense to you Sir, I absolutely love you) I mean I have everything one could possibly want or need. A great job, a decent house with a cozy room to myself, parents who are supportive and understanding, friends who I spend lots of time talking to on the phone and food, clothing etc. However, since I can't get everything I want or dream of the least I can do is complain right?
Yeah, whine on.
Then I'd think to myself that I will write over the weekend when I have absolutely no work to do and creative ideas will flow through my veins like blood and make its way through to the tips of my fingers which will then be in contact with the keyboard and ultimately appear as this wonderful blog post. Well I know now for sure that that never happens.
So today. Which is the end of my wasted weekend, I sit here two hours before my pre-planned bed time to finally get something out of my system.
Before I go on, I would like to announce the news about me discontinuing writing here from now on. Simply because I revealed too much about my workplace and my co-workers' names and also passing on this information to other fellow colleagues. So I no longer can pretend to be an exciting and mysterious blogger who writes about obviously unnecessary things about people. That's also why I haven't been able to write.
Apart from that I also introduced some family members to this blog before I could even blossom into a witty, interesting and entertaining writer.
So that explains the shift.
Today I have had this innate, unbearable desire to get the fuck out of here and do something that doesn't involve spending 60 hours of work in the week glued to a seat, racking my brains to come up with one innovative and creative idea after another. I love my job. I really do. Sometimes though. Okay, most times I just wish I was working this hard in another city in another part of the world which is not as crowded and not as noisy. Where for a piece of peace and quiet, I didn't have to pay an exorbitant amount in a coffee shop. Where if I chose to go out for a walk, I didn't have to dread bumping into a million people on the way. Have my head saturated with a zillion sounds of automobiles and people fighting and yelling which mix ever so well with my own thoughts that I can't tell this from that.
I shouldn't be complaining and whining like the dog outside my building who sits quietly under a car and keeps howling. I love that dog though. It's like a budding, crooning Jeff Buckley waiting to be released.(No offense to you Sir, I absolutely love you) I mean I have everything one could possibly want or need. A great job, a decent house with a cozy room to myself, parents who are supportive and understanding, friends who I spend lots of time talking to on the phone and food, clothing etc. However, since I can't get everything I want or dream of the least I can do is complain right?
Yeah, whine on.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Long time, No see
It's been a week since my last post because I was loaded with work suddenly which was a great thing. My brain cells are feeling very active once again and it felt great to get cracking on some new projects. However, like one would say in Hindi (bhagwaan jab deta hai toh chappad phaad ke deta hai) which was so apt in my case because suddenly I was pulled in different directions for all kinds of work. Anyway, now I'm steadily and calmly trying to finish everything off. It doesn't take too much for my panic button to go off and when it does, all hell breaks loose. The weekend looks tempting but the week in office is what I enjoy the most.
I am currently working on the IT publication called POP IT. It is my recreational project because I can go absolutely crazy and have fun with the communication I create.
I am a little saddened nowadays. One because I feel like I haven't been able to do justice to my last two designs. Multitasking is a task in itself which I don't do quite well. Considering I have been struggling with two three things at once, I haven't been able to devote my time to each of them individually. Two because Rovi is leaving end of this month which means the space two seats away from me will be empty. I think I will put up a snap of him soon enough. He just agreed to posing for me.Everyday after lunch, if I just glance at him he flashes his smile and promptly says "yeah, I'll get you chocolate". I told him that today would be the last day I'd ask him to get me eclairs so that he can spend his last days here not feeling like he's made use of and be seated in peace. In my defense, in my two months here I have asked him to get me eclairs just about 8 times. It doesn't do much for the fact that I ask like it's my birthright though.Today I will be sharing my chocolates with Placi (short for Placida and no, I didn't come up with that). She is our HR person and although I found her name amusing at first, she very much lives up to it. She is always calm and often calls up people at random from her desk to trouble them. She shares the nicknaming fetish with me. I am no one to talk about names. My parents decided to compensate for my most unusual surname by giving me a name which half of the country's girls have.
Okay. Work calling. I have to finish some things now. Blogging does not feature in the priority list when there is work to do. Later then.
I am currently working on the IT publication called POP IT. It is my recreational project because I can go absolutely crazy and have fun with the communication I create.
I am a little saddened nowadays. One because I feel like I haven't been able to do justice to my last two designs. Multitasking is a task in itself which I don't do quite well. Considering I have been struggling with two three things at once, I haven't been able to devote my time to each of them individually. Two because Rovi is leaving end of this month which means the space two seats away from me will be empty. I think I will put up a snap of him soon enough. He just agreed to posing for me.Everyday after lunch, if I just glance at him he flashes his smile and promptly says "yeah, I'll get you chocolate". I told him that today would be the last day I'd ask him to get me eclairs so that he can spend his last days here not feeling like he's made use of and be seated in peace. In my defense, in my two months here I have asked him to get me eclairs just about 8 times. It doesn't do much for the fact that I ask like it's my birthright though.Today I will be sharing my chocolates with Placi (short for Placida and no, I didn't come up with that). She is our HR person and although I found her name amusing at first, she very much lives up to it. She is always calm and often calls up people at random from her desk to trouble them. She shares the nicknaming fetish with me. I am no one to talk about names. My parents decided to compensate for my most unusual surname by giving me a name which half of the country's girls have.
Okay. Work calling. I have to finish some things now. Blogging does not feature in the priority list when there is work to do. Later then.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Morning
So it's a new day and I'm back to work. Very few people have turned up so far. I have a really good position in the room because I'm in the corner and I sit perpendicular to everyone else so I can see everyone's faces and what they're up to while no one can see what I'm up to. So some serious advantage there.
Rovinson is here. Rovi is a little relieved because I have reduced the frequency of asking for eclairs over the past couple of days. He is bloody pleased as hell though, that I knew more than five Tamil songs by heart even though I don't understand a word of what I'm singing. Also that I have watched a few Tamil films, know the names of some actors and am even aware of some upcoming flicks which he is very excited about. If Rovi has a good book somewhere tucked in between his movie collection, I'm pretty sure I'm in there.
I have a thing for twisting everyone's names into a nick name which is annoying and I did that in the very month I joined, to most people I know. So Kimberly became Kimmie, Priyanka became Pinku/Pinky, Rakesh became Raka, Saswata became Sashu, Jagpreet became Jugs(Yeesh) and Shaily became Shailendra etc.I also squeak their names out every time they pass by and everyone else gives me the dirtiest looks possible on earth. It's the look which screams LOSER. Everyone secretly hates what I've done to their names but that's the beauty of it!
Arnab(Ornab) has just asked me to meet him in a bit. He is a 34 year old man from Bengal who is a delightful boy at heart. He has a distinctive Bengali accent. He loves the rest of the world and despises India. He speaks in metaphors constantly. He starts his day with a cup of tea, a banana, a samosa and some rusk. He eats meat every single day and loves to discover new people who aren't vegetarian. He sticks band-aids on holes in his t-shirts like they'll heal and somehow seal up. Is rarely seated in his place,walks like a duck dragging his slippers through the room with his hands folded behind his back and grin stuck on face to check what everyone is up to with great interest.I think he spends most of his time doing just that. He forgets what he's saying and gets distracted easily. It's difficult sometimes to follow a conversation with him because he darts into several other directions while trying to use metaphors and other complicated analogies that are supposed to make his point clearer but ends up just going off track. He is very passionate about his work with a keen and sharp eye for detail. A perfectionist, sometimes I don't ask him for feedback because I rarely reach a point of finality with him and he comes up with new problems with each review. His eyes light up when an idea strikes him and he's constantly thinking.
Ooohhh, there he is waddling over now to check what I'm up to. Later then.
Rovinson is here. Rovi is a little relieved because I have reduced the frequency of asking for eclairs over the past couple of days. He is bloody pleased as hell though, that I knew more than five Tamil songs by heart even though I don't understand a word of what I'm singing. Also that I have watched a few Tamil films, know the names of some actors and am even aware of some upcoming flicks which he is very excited about. If Rovi has a good book somewhere tucked in between his movie collection, I'm pretty sure I'm in there.
I have a thing for twisting everyone's names into a nick name which is annoying and I did that in the very month I joined, to most people I know. So Kimberly became Kimmie, Priyanka became Pinku/Pinky, Rakesh became Raka, Saswata became Sashu, Jagpreet became Jugs(Yeesh) and Shaily became Shailendra etc.I also squeak their names out every time they pass by and everyone else gives me the dirtiest looks possible on earth. It's the look which screams LOSER. Everyone secretly hates what I've done to their names but that's the beauty of it!
Arnab(Ornab) has just asked me to meet him in a bit. He is a 34 year old man from Bengal who is a delightful boy at heart. He has a distinctive Bengali accent. He loves the rest of the world and despises India. He speaks in metaphors constantly. He starts his day with a cup of tea, a banana, a samosa and some rusk. He eats meat every single day and loves to discover new people who aren't vegetarian. He sticks band-aids on holes in his t-shirts like they'll heal and somehow seal up. Is rarely seated in his place,walks like a duck dragging his slippers through the room with his hands folded behind his back and grin stuck on face to check what everyone is up to with great interest.I think he spends most of his time doing just that. He forgets what he's saying and gets distracted easily. It's difficult sometimes to follow a conversation with him because he darts into several other directions while trying to use metaphors and other complicated analogies that are supposed to make his point clearer but ends up just going off track. He is very passionate about his work with a keen and sharp eye for detail. A perfectionist, sometimes I don't ask him for feedback because I rarely reach a point of finality with him and he comes up with new problems with each review. His eyes light up when an idea strikes him and he's constantly thinking.
Ooohhh, there he is waddling over now to check what I'm up to. Later then.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Inference
I have had a rather tumultuous five days. It started with a heated argument with one of my close friends who was leaving the city and the reaction of that was taken out on another close friend. The three of us are very close. We've known each other six years now and I wouldn't say it's a normal relationship we share. We all behave like we're romantically involved with each other so our problems sometimes take over our lives to an extent one can't imagine.
I keep wondering why it's like this. It's probably because we've lived and studied with each other for so many years that we became family at some point. I have come to realize that I (and they for that matter) behave like how a family does. In my case, I grew up in a family where we all took each other for granted to the point of no return. I grew up not being able to separate boundaries and sometimes even now, I have to watch very carefully where I tread lest I cram someones space. Which happens most of the time actually. The past four days have jolted me back to a reality which is unpleasant, unsettling and so harsh that I have to make an attempt to digest it.
What does it mean to co-exist in a space with someone who you're extremely close to? This is something I am trying to figure out for myself. It's important to separate myself from them as a being because our spaces and souls get intertwined sometimes and distinguishing between anything is practically impossible for me. I'm one of those extremely emotional people who swings often and extremely between two ends of any spectrum. Finding balance and peace within is a constant strive for as long as I can remember.
I think it's easier to achieve something within if you stop trying so hard to do exactly that. Dispersing some of that emotion and energy into something outside of me will probably help stabilize my state of being. This blog was also started with a similar thought.
I have now lost my chain of thought thanks to a friend of mine who lights up my life nowadays with his random and sometimes utter nonsensical talk. Anyway, more later.
I keep wondering why it's like this. It's probably because we've lived and studied with each other for so many years that we became family at some point. I have come to realize that I (and they for that matter) behave like how a family does. In my case, I grew up in a family where we all took each other for granted to the point of no return. I grew up not being able to separate boundaries and sometimes even now, I have to watch very carefully where I tread lest I cram someones space. Which happens most of the time actually. The past four days have jolted me back to a reality which is unpleasant, unsettling and so harsh that I have to make an attempt to digest it.
What does it mean to co-exist in a space with someone who you're extremely close to? This is something I am trying to figure out for myself. It's important to separate myself from them as a being because our spaces and souls get intertwined sometimes and distinguishing between anything is practically impossible for me. I'm one of those extremely emotional people who swings often and extremely between two ends of any spectrum. Finding balance and peace within is a constant strive for as long as I can remember.
I think it's easier to achieve something within if you stop trying so hard to do exactly that. Dispersing some of that emotion and energy into something outside of me will probably help stabilize my state of being. This blog was also started with a similar thought.
I have now lost my chain of thought thanks to a friend of mine who lights up my life nowadays with his random and sometimes utter nonsensical talk. Anyway, more later.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Arrival
I just arrived at work. Not too many people have come in yet although Rovi is here. I'm hoping today is a lot more productive than yesterday. My design was scrapped yesterday because it was better suited for a high end brand unlike the one we're currently designing for.So I ended up spending most of my time post the review reading and writing.
I started my day with some soft appes (balls of rice dough) and spicy garlic chutney made by my mum. My mum is one of the best cooks I have ever met. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever be able to create half the magic with ingredients like she does. My sister has taken after her though. She seems to be flowering beautifully in that aspect. Otherwise too actually. She's older than me by the way and anyone can guess that I am her biggest fan.
I've been itching to grab my camera and take some pictures. Practically every day, I spot something that I want to capture and I just don't have my camera. Also, my memory card was misplaced by my ever so adorable cousin long ago. I haven't bothered to replace it ever since. This week, I most definitely shall though.
People have started pouring in now and I can see my team head cautiously walk towards all of us, trying to gather us for a meeting. I can also see everyone avoiding him conveniently. Shantaramji is doing his thing by serving us tea. A sure shot sign of work starting. At this point it would be ideal and such a proper thing to say "I have to get back to work now" except that I don't really have any.
I started my day with some soft appes (balls of rice dough) and spicy garlic chutney made by my mum. My mum is one of the best cooks I have ever met. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever be able to create half the magic with ingredients like she does. My sister has taken after her though. She seems to be flowering beautifully in that aspect. Otherwise too actually. She's older than me by the way and anyone can guess that I am her biggest fan.
I've been itching to grab my camera and take some pictures. Practically every day, I spot something that I want to capture and I just don't have my camera. Also, my memory card was misplaced by my ever so adorable cousin long ago. I haven't bothered to replace it ever since. This week, I most definitely shall though.
People have started pouring in now and I can see my team head cautiously walk towards all of us, trying to gather us for a meeting. I can also see everyone avoiding him conveniently. Shantaramji is doing his thing by serving us tea. A sure shot sign of work starting. At this point it would be ideal and such a proper thing to say "I have to get back to work now" except that I don't really have any.
Work Break
While I sit at work and contemplate about what I can do without attracting too much attention from my co-workers about my current lack of assigned work, I thought I'd just ramble on.
Rovinson who sits two seats away from me glances at me and flashes a smile.I think he finds me a little amusing. For starters, I call him Rovi in a sing song manner (which I know is very annoying) which I don't think anyone in the world has ever called him. I also instruct him to get me 5 eclairs from the shop below practically every day after lunch. He rarely speaks and most people didn't know he can. He spends most of his time watching Tamil music videos on youtube and chatting online with his friends. He is very sweet though. I know that because he smiles every single time I call him Rovi and ask for my self proclaimed eclairs. That's Rovinson for you.
While I shuffle between my inbox and my design on Illustrator which has now been scrapped, I realize I have absolutely nothing to do. My inbox lies open perpetually even if I'm not chatting. It just lies there to feed into an obsession of sorts. People around me are chatting and working side by side. Our peon Shantaram just went around serving tea. I really like him. He is always smiling and is very sweet.
I have always had a soft corner for people who serve us. Especially because I grew up with servants at home who literally lived with us and became part of our family. My mother always made sure that we treated them with respect. I couldn't even address them as bai (maid) and called them maushi(aunty), didi/tai(older sister) instead. I still can't.
In India where we have it easy with ten people at our disposal, I often wonder about how we don't think twice before we take certain liberties of treating or rather ill treating them. They have no choice is what I hear ever so often. Circumstantially bound, they serve us and never ever dare to fight us. However, I feel sometimes that there is always a choice. I don't mean a choice to find a better life for themselves and other idealistic/romantic bullshit like that. I mean one can always say no. What would we do then if one fine day our maids, drivers, gas station workers, peons, conductors, bus drivers, auto fellows just decided to not serve you anymore because they just didn't feel like it?
Yeah, spare time to think and create unusual scenarios in my head but these things affect me ever so often. Of course with time, I have resorted to taking the quintessential road of indifference and arrogance wherein I think feeling bad for people less blessed in itself is a thought that creates that divide of affluence or class. Then again, I can't help but feel or think now, can I?
Rovinson who sits two seats away from me glances at me and flashes a smile.I think he finds me a little amusing. For starters, I call him Rovi in a sing song manner (which I know is very annoying) which I don't think anyone in the world has ever called him. I also instruct him to get me 5 eclairs from the shop below practically every day after lunch. He rarely speaks and most people didn't know he can. He spends most of his time watching Tamil music videos on youtube and chatting online with his friends. He is very sweet though. I know that because he smiles every single time I call him Rovi and ask for my self proclaimed eclairs. That's Rovinson for you.
While I shuffle between my inbox and my design on Illustrator which has now been scrapped, I realize I have absolutely nothing to do. My inbox lies open perpetually even if I'm not chatting. It just lies there to feed into an obsession of sorts. People around me are chatting and working side by side. Our peon Shantaram just went around serving tea. I really like him. He is always smiling and is very sweet.
I have always had a soft corner for people who serve us. Especially because I grew up with servants at home who literally lived with us and became part of our family. My mother always made sure that we treated them with respect. I couldn't even address them as bai (maid) and called them maushi(aunty), didi/tai(older sister) instead. I still can't.
In India where we have it easy with ten people at our disposal, I often wonder about how we don't think twice before we take certain liberties of treating or rather ill treating them. They have no choice is what I hear ever so often. Circumstantially bound, they serve us and never ever dare to fight us. However, I feel sometimes that there is always a choice. I don't mean a choice to find a better life for themselves and other idealistic/romantic bullshit like that. I mean one can always say no. What would we do then if one fine day our maids, drivers, gas station workers, peons, conductors, bus drivers, auto fellows just decided to not serve you anymore because they just didn't feel like it?
Yeah, spare time to think and create unusual scenarios in my head but these things affect me ever so often. Of course with time, I have resorted to taking the quintessential road of indifference and arrogance wherein I think feeling bad for people less blessed in itself is a thought that creates that divide of affluence or class. Then again, I can't help but feel or think now, can I?
The First Nibble
I spend too much time thinking and wondering about whether or not I should take a step towards doing something. Most often then not, I end up not doing it at all.
This time without having spent too much time bothering about language, content and diction I decided to just go for it.So here I am. Almost 4 years since I made an attempt to start a blog, I have finally managed to post something.
I will deliberately refrain from making too many promises about structure, content and frequency of posts because I have created this blog to defy exactly that.
This blog is not restricted to any particular theme, subject or conversation. Hence the name!
Happy Blogging.
This time without having spent too much time bothering about language, content and diction I decided to just go for it.So here I am. Almost 4 years since I made an attempt to start a blog, I have finally managed to post something.
I will deliberately refrain from making too many promises about structure, content and frequency of posts because I have created this blog to defy exactly that.
This blog is not restricted to any particular theme, subject or conversation. Hence the name!
Happy Blogging.
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