Monthly Archives: May 2009

Conversation of Boss/Employee Kind

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Boss : I have to go to XDFR on Sunday, want to fly back in the evening

Self : With starry eyed vision of spending a day in a/c ambience unsupervised by boss : Sir the flight in the morning is at 7 am, and that means you have to reach airport at 5 am.  Why dont you catch the afternoon flight?  You can easily stay the night and come back on Monday ….

Boss : Almost falling for it : 5 a.m. on Sunday is too early

Self : Hopefully twitching the bait : Yes  sir, its too early.  Aap araam se jayen na, by the afternoon flight

Boss : Deep thought

Self : Breath held in hopeful anticipation

Boss : Picking up phone and instructing secretary : Book the 7 am ticket for XDFR and send Mr. PO*&%9 in

Self : ????!!!!

Boss : Smirking : Let him go and attend the meeting.  I will sleep at home

Self : Walking out in a funk kicking myself

Darn, sometimes I get too ahead of myself!  Now he will rest on Sunday and be fully energetic and raring to eat us all Monday onwards

 

Dammit

Ode to my once slim waist

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ø?? ?ø ?ÿ ø??? ?lï? ??ï??

Where are you my long lost friend?

My true partner through many bends

My slim fit jeans miss you dearly

So do many of my lovely kurtis

I should not have taken you for granted

Please know that I have since repented

Chocolate, fries, butter broke our marriage

You left me and I expanded, it’s tragic

I am a changed girl now, I swear my friend

Fatty food does not charm, I’ve made amends

Must our love be so shallow and transient?

Please forgive me, let’s once more be friends

Together we made quite an impression on men

Drinks spilled, temperatures rose, all eyes froze when

You and I swayed into a room, we did not have to try

To use wit, work hard for impact, Oh now I could cry

I know I did not treat you with love and care

So you left me for more youthful figures

But they are self absorbed and shallow

Come back my love, I’ve since mellowed

Together we shall flirt, we’ll do it with flair

Dance, exercise and I’ll treat you with care

You are the love of my life, you are my muse

See, I wrote you an ode, so do not refuse

Voting link once more

The things we do for love

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1.  Eat burnt toast with a smile

2. Eat the half eaten biscuit that your infant kid lovingly feeds you happily

3. Wake up in the middle of the night to rock the infant to sleep or tend the loved one.

4. Eat artery choking food served by over-hospitable people with a smile while cringing inside and reminding oneself that it is hospitality, not hostility.

5. Tolerate the plunking of guitar strings all the goddamn time, even at 2 a.m., and even pay for the damn guitar lessons just because offspring has musical aspirations.

6. Go attend parties hosted by those people just because husband finds them interesting.

7. Assure the husband that he is not balding, just having a bad hair day

8. Assure the wife that she is not putting on weight on her butt, its just the color/cut of the dress she is wearing that makes her look fat.

9. Convince her that you did not notice the old school mate who still looked hot while she is pleasantly rounded due to having kids etc.

10. Walk all the floors of the mall along with spouse searching for the dress and the shoes that will make or break her/his all important appearance.

11. Look lovingly impressed when your tone deaf spouse sings you a love ode

12. Take second helpings of some horrible meal cooked by your spouse because he/she made the effort though every fibre of your digestive track revolts.

What are the things you have done for love?

Post Poll Blues

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I was involved in two elections ….. and I did not get to vote or participate in any! Needless to say I am bummed! I do not like spectator sports, which is my chief grouse against blue flicks. The other is that the calisthenics performed by the lead couple gives me a distinct feeling of inadequacy and who needs that! I definitely do not need that kind of competition. But I digress …..

The first poll was the Indusladies competition I took charge of. It was quite an education. Like they say : Usme emotion tha, drama tha, action tha, booth capturing tha, fraud voting tha, aur to aur, Usme Ma bhi thee! Well it was a Mother’s Day competition, so it had to have mothers …. The only thing it did not have was a fight sequence – even though at times I was spoiling for a fight. The ladies were very civilized. Khair …..
:(

Any how, the deserving candidates did win and I managed to ensure that it was fair. It was fun while it lasted, even though as a moderator I did not get to participate or vote.

Then came the desh ka election. With my name missing from the voters list, I could not vote but it was fun watching TV and listening to all the citizens of the country investing enormously on sound bytes and very little on physical presence at polling booths. I swear, we are absolutely intoxicated with the sound of our own voices. And we have opinions, even though we wont budge an inch or make an effort to make them real! All in all its fun and I do so love a tamasha.

Now its over, BJP is sulking, Behn Mayawati is on the warpath sacking her party people and the Left got left behind. Khel Khatam ho gaya boss. IPL is the only entertaining thing left. Sigh! I need a life, I need a man in my life to fight with and blame for all the miseries and boredom in life.

The conversation would be something like this

Me : Lets do something, lets go out somewhere

He : Okay, shall we go out to the mall?

Me : Nah! It’s gonna make me spend money unnecessarily. I dont need the stuff I’ll buy

He : Okay, shall we go out to eat?

Me : (offended) If you dont like my cooking just say so ….

He : Honey I love your cooking, but you wanted to go out (said in a WTF tone)

Me : Oh ohkay. I am bored let’s do something

He :  I know, lets go visit friends.  I’ll ring up jhgttuy

Me : B o r i n g.  I dont wanna visit friends.

He : (warily) Okay, what do you want to do?

Me : (miffed) I got to decide this also?  I want you to decide

He : gjhgjhiyiuuyopuouoipui

Me : Sulkily : No one understands me, no one wants to take me out, I am bored, bored bored ….  You never do anything fun.  We are such a boring couple.  There’s nothing fun to do!~

Working myself up into a fine state of emotional uproar

Sounds of the door slamming and the car starting

The man has left the building …….

Examination Stories (Apni toh Paathshala, Masti Ki Paathshala)

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Was going through Brown Phantom’s memories. Started a chain of memories for me

I grew up with siblings, all male, most of ‘em older than me. Which means I grew up as witness to wonderful capers all to be blamed on exams …..

One sibling was totally exam challenged. What aggravated the issue was that he was made much of by his Granny and Mom, the only male child followed by sisters. He fared badly in the exams and threatened to jump of the roof rather than show his report card. Needless to say the ladies panicked. My Ben Hur Uncle walked into the courtyard to see weeping Aunt and the boy on the ledge and got into the act. He pushed his bhabi into the room and locked the door. Then told the errant boy “Koodna hai, kood ley, main hoon na” {Wanna jump … go right ahead, I’m here to take care of you}
The boy stood for a minute, took stock of the situation, shrugged and replied “I wasn’t trying to scare you, I was just trying to scare them” and tamely climbed off the ledge ……..

My elder sibling had a friend who had flunked his boards umpteen number of times. He introduced me to the world of “pharras” or cheat papers. They were tiny, folded like Japanese fans and covered with minuscule writing. He hired my brothers to write his pharras for him. They subcontracted the chore to us young ‘uns for Ravalgaon toffees. We dutifully made the pharras copying all the answers from Kunjis (help books). Then the friend came, his coat lining was torn and the pharras tucked inside the lining at strategic points, while we kids watched with fascination. A soochi (key) was made of where each pharra was hidden. That was tucked into the seams of his tie. I kept thinking that if he lost that soochi or his tie, he was sunk!!!!

He barely made it, you know, just got 33%. We didn’t care. We got our toffees and the elder Bhais got their money :D

During our in-school exams our class was made to sit with students of higher classes. It was a nightmare for our school teachers! At one time 17 of us from the same family studied in various classes in the same school. They kept trying to shuffle us, but it never worked.

Once there was some theorem I could not memorize. I knew it would come in the exam and was almost in tears. The brothers tried to help me, but it did not work. At the last moment, one of my brothers slipped a pharra into my hand and said “Use this”.

I panicked, got this insane urge to pee, got hiccups …. u know the classic I wanna flee reaction …

Managed to walk and sit down at my desk. Sure enough that dratted theorem was in the question paper. Not being able to face up to the challenge of opening the pharra (he had shoved it under the dial of my watch) I attempted everything else. Once I had stopped trembling and my heart beat was some-what normal, I risked opening the pharra ……

In my terror I had worked myself into copious sweat (even though we lived in Imphal, Manipur) and the ink had run and blurred the entire pharra.

I did not know whether to laugh or cry …

That was a multiple choice question, and I easily attempted the other one …

My brothers were in splits when I told them what happened -

Ah well!!!

Love and Stuff

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Monika tagged me to write about my Amar Prem, my long lasting love story about myself, and I do love to be centre-stage :P , so this tag is something I will totally enjoy doing.

I think self love is the best thing since sliced bread. Our elders were brought up on a totally irritating brand of pseudo humility which made me get apoplectic with rage!

Does any one remember phrases like “Mere garibkhane mein aayey please”?, or the translated “Welcome to my humble abode”. So absolutely fake!

Then we were preached at for “Simple Living and High Thinking”. The sermons were all geared at telling us that this world is an illusion, we were supposed to deny ourselves any thing good and fun so that we attained a higher level of rewards. Funny how similar that sounds to the poor misguided Jihadis who are promised I dont know how many virgins in Jannat, if they manage to kill others and themselves!!!

I mean I am all for being level headed, but groveling is not good either for the soul or the knees. Self Love is all about being kind to yourself, forgiving yourself and being friends with yourself. Self love is all about the Loreal ad “Because I am worth it”. :D

The added advantage is that you get your prize right here and right now! Why wait till we die anyway. May be I am born a parrot the next life, then that awesome pair of diamond earrings wont be what I want anyway!

I love me “Because I am worth it!”, I am moody, can go from angel to bitch in 0.005 seconds flat. So what?!!, So I am a flawed human being, but I stand up for me and mine, protect and nurture who I think are mine, and I belong to me so I love me :P

I dig my sense of humor. I can find the ridiculous in the most grim,insane and even tragic situations. It has led to many uncomfortable moments with me hiding in the loo to overcome fits of giggles (I am giggly) but it makes me a happy soul

I am fiercely independent and I respect that in me and in others if I see a similar spark. It makes me want to do more, achieve a lot in life.

I love eating my own cooking. Saves a lot of money but adds to work {groan}

I respect my outspoken nature. I totally despise hypocrisy and value honest opinions, and I think it makes me a better human being – even though it gets me into humongous amounts of trouble.

Sigh …. done the five points, but there are soo many other things I appreciate about me …..

Walks off reciting this poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (its my favorite love poem)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, — I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! — and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Being a single mom … Mother’s Day

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I have been a single Mom since Kid#2 was 2 years old, and Kid#1 was 10 ……

Sorry to burst your bubble! This is not a Main Bechari post, because its been great! It has dawned upon me bit by bit that the only essential thing one has to have to play any role in life is one’s own self. The rest is …. peripherals I guess. When I realized that I would be single Mom, I literally quaked in my shoes! My generation was brought up on the image of Durga Khote dressed in white toiling endlessly on a sewing machine, or Rakhee telling her tormentors “Mere Karan Arjun ayengey, zaroor ayengey!” In truth, the scenario is different. My sons would actually say “Stop or My Mom will Shoot!”

The lessons learnt in life have been plenty, and I am blessed with excellent hindsight, totally 6/6

1. You need to be financially solvent. Yes, the ability to pay your bills is a big blessing, it shuts up the doomsday kind of well-wishers and also keeps critics at bay. Plus it gives you a sense of power that gets the kids in line too (this is a big blessing!)

2. You need to be emotionally solvent. As a mother, I realized that I could not love and nurture them unless I felt happy with myself. For that I needed to stop blaming others. I needed to know what I am, a flawed human being, and needed to be friends with myself. Only then could I parent my kids. It is at this point that the biggest love story of my life began! I discovered I loved me and so I could love others too.

3. You need to be “in” on your kids lives. Yeah, that means, use their language, try and make sense out of their rock music (even if it threatens to dislodge your dental fillings) and play basket ball with them even if your knees get tortured, and be friends with their friends. I did that, and what do you know, I even lost some minuscule amount of weight. Having youthful friends made me feel young myself!

4. You need to have a life of your own. This is a “gyan” that dawned on me slowly. I went overboard being with the boys and forgot to live my own life for a bit. Luckily I realized before they kicked me out of their lives. I have my life now, my friends, the net, and I have them too. Pretty good eh?

5. You gotta realize that The Buck Stops Here. Face it, you are the parent, and there is no one you can fall back on, for discipline or for financial help. I always wanted that sigh! To wave a menacing finger at the buggers and say “Just wait until Daddy gets home”, but I guess I managed pretty well eh?

6. Dont take yourself and your parenting skills seriously. Remember you are just doing the best you can with all sincerity and one day these *&^%$# are going to turn around and tell you pompously that you are a bad parent. Just smile and promise yourself that you will spoil their kids silly and turn them into insufferable horrors. It is the best you can do!

Being a single mother is eventful and demanding. It is rewarding too. Your kids may not thank you, but they can not take away the pleasure and pride you feel at seeing them stand tall and oh so grown up, interact intelligently and be independent.

As for gratitude????

It is past one in the afternoon. The ba*&^ds have not even wished me a Happy Mother’s Day as yet, forget about getting me some measly flowers!

Edited to add : They came to my office (yes I was working today even tho its a Sunday) with a chocolate cake!!! Aint that lovely?

Happy Mother’s Day

I become Mr. Bean

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I despise Mr. Bean. Somehow the idea of an adult man having no control over himself, his life and his environment does not appeal to me. So when this happened to me yesterday, it made me almost froth in the mouth.

1. Got my voters ID out of the almairah and into my purse

2. Rounded up the kids, for their first time voting (Kid#1 was out of country for the previous one)

3. Got into car and boldly ventured to exercise our demo(effin)cratic right to elect our government

4. Found that we were not listed in the voters list at our new address where we have lived for almost two years

5. Drove to our previous address and found that we were not listed there either – we lived there for more than 20 years dammit!

6. Had a WTF moment (when three people have the same WTF moment, I must tell you its fairly profound and creates blissful one-ness which in our case translated into a “since we are out, might as well as have lunch somewhere outside”)

7. DIL had gone to parental abode to vote, and came back proudly showing us the finger : The Bacchhan family has a lot to answer for! Humph!

8. I was overstuffed on restaurant food, angry and irritated : How does a person who has lived for 25 effin years in the same town be missing from the town’s list? I did what any one in my place would do … I went to sleep.

9. I searched the net for the person whom I should bash for omitting the names of my whole damn family (we are 3 people, guys, not so much of an effort to include?). I did not find the person I should send hate mail to

10. I am using a CD Marker to make a black spot on my finger to show to Mr. Bacchhan and family and various sundry celebrities.

Gaah! I am such a wannabe!!!!

It aint cooked if it aint in flames

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Itchy’s post Domestic Horrors in 80 Clicks inspired me to take a trip down memory lane, and so did Dipali’s.

Well, I was quite unprepared for domesticity when I got married and set up house.  It was bad, I never knew domesticity could be so much hard work!  Ex was a kid too, and he and I had some serious growing up to do, and part of that growing up was that dust piles up, things do not magically go into their appointed slots and if you do not cook, you do not get to eat.

Ex could cook well, and I did not know how to even make a decent cup of tea!  The problem was that Ex had to go to work, and I was a college student.  Well, I have done strange things, and grown some pretty strange life forms in my initial forays into domesticity.

Burning kitchen cloth, toast, overboiling milk, charring vegetables was pretty standard.  Forgetting to collect and wash glasses was pretty standard too, and a cluttered home was a norm.  The kitchen of course was Hades, with flames and strange smells.

Once I left some channa to soak overnight, and forgot it …. for a pretty long time, say weeks!  I needed the bowl and went on a hunting spree.  Found it on the roof, with channa, lots of fermented froth and some orangey life form.  The froth if distilled could have made some pretty potent alcohol!  It was with deep regret that I discarded it.  The orangey life form looked pretty vile, so I sort of discarded the idea of distillation of fermented froth.

I had a kerosene stove, no gas connection.  Once I got ambitious and decided to cook some mutton.  Got instructions from a friendly neighbourhood lady and proceeded to cook it.  I set the mutton on the stove and got engrossed in a Robert Ludlum.  The wicks of the stove burnt down, the kerosene was over, and the mutton cooked on slow fire.  It was delicious!  I tried so hard to repeat that recipe, I even deliberately cut down the wicks to bare minimum, but I never managed to cook such delicious mutton again.  Sigh!

Another one of my misadventures was making a bread pudding.  Well, the bread must have been very yeasty.  It cooked well, but separated at the last moment, just when our guests walked into the house!  I had no option but to put a whole lot of cherries and candied fruit to camoflage the disaster.  It looked pretty and tasted divine.  But I never managed to repeat that bread pudding!  No encore at all, even though friends and ex wanted it, and even though I tried again!  Dammit.

The ultimate one was once we got into a fight just when I was starting dinner.  So I threw a tantrum and went into the bedroom in a huff and went off to sleep.  Ex cooked the entire dinner, even made a raita and a salad, set the table and came and woke me up with a “Stop being an idiot and eat your dinner”.  I curiously went to the perfectly laid table and was totally awed.  It dawned on me that this was one tantrum that simply would not work.  I had to get my act together. 

I think I grew up quite a bit that day!