Messy Creation

And its time for some boredom!

2010-06-07T12:39:00.000-07:00

It was madness during the exam time, planning the revision, writing up essays and lab reports, post it notes , revision cards. I could have a private consultation with a psychiatrist and be prescribed with the full works of anti psychotics! i was indeed sick with stress and pressure.By the last day of the exam all this stress turned into ' cant be bothered' form, which is very dangerous, but 'cant be bothered' feeling takes over the danger bit. so all in all, went through so many emotions of stress, relief, excitement, anxiety, anger, frustration to sheer nothingness now!

Now am just bored!I don't know what emotion boredom would go under! Does anyone have this issue?

Drugmatized

2010-02-19T04:56:00.000-08:00

As I am at a key stage in my degree programme , they have decided that it is now time for some drugs and behaviour. I have something I call an innate interest in the topic not that I am a druggie or nothing! All I was aware of was Cocaine, heroine and marijuana. But no... there is so much more in this beautiful world of fantasy, dreams and elevated emotions. OK, now I am starting to sound like a druggie!

Anyone heard of Amnita?! Yea I thought it was some models name too, but noooo.. apparently it is a naturally grown mushroom which can give you unlimited giggles that hurt your stomach and at the same time not feel the pain in the stomach.According to my lecturer, the lady is such a big fan that she wants to share the word with her matching outfit! God the creator of all, didn't forget to create ways for entertainment for us too.

Whether its Amnita , charlie or Tina, they all have one main target, go to our brain and help us to go to another world, a world of nothingness, somethingness, meaninglessness. Clarity of senses is another feature of using drugs, So if I was on Crack, I could hear you better, stay alert for longer , feel you better! Honestly am not drugged! I work with someone who got addicted to valium when she was given it during childbirth.When I crave for a bit of choclate , she would hop up and say, ummmmmmm... I could do with some valium.

Its not just humans, but apparently animals have an attraction for drugstoo . I thought all they wanted to do was eat and S^&g, But apparently they have an addiction to drugs. Look at this cat for instance, he looks like a ganja dealer but he has a strong addiction to a subsatnce in a plant, the name is catnip . Even though he looks like this to star off with...

there is a good chance that he may end up like ....

He dont want to just consume and experience a temporary euphoria, but he wants to lay on it and flot on the aroma too!I bet it works as a top up and extend the length of the experience. I wana be a cat in my next life!

coke next......
I had no clue that Coca Cola had a predominant ingredient like Cocaine and they still use the cocaine extracted leaf as vegetable fat! Have a look at this advert for coke, and apparently it releived headache! Ohh... i got a headache, have a coke!!!

How about if your baby has a bit toothache or even if it is a bit crancky , because .. well.. because it shows the true self of the parents, dont worry, we have the solution, give him some charlie! He may stay awake, but he wont bother you !!

why wasn't I around in the 1880's . I mean I still get a toothache and all I manage is clove oil and its disgusting. Not only does it taste like sick, but it psychologically disturbs me for a good week or so! And its 'cos I am not getting cha rlie's toothache balm to relieve some of that pain!

And all of you guys who have trouble with dangruff, stop ... just stop using Head and Shoulders and get on to some pure coke!
I also want to talk about the ' babe' of all drugs, not so popular yet, but give it a couple of more years, this little star will be the king of all drugs, scientific name is Methamphetamine, but have so many nick names some crystal meth, Yaba,crank,meth, go-fast,christy, christal,tina,chalk,shabu,glass,crazy medicine, speed. I mean come on... would you ever think some thing in the name is shabu can do so much damage. The name shabu reminds of my neighbour who used to drool every time he saw a skirt and unshaven legs! A crystal normally vaporised in a very fashionable and classy looking tube and inhaled can apparently fasten the speed of your life if it is a bit sluggish! My lecturer was not going to put us off it , as he showed us a wonderful pink sample , 'just for the girls'.Apparently its called strawberry meth.

I personally have no means or the balls, well i dont have them anyway, the balls that is, to try any of them , so I leave the trying to all of guys, who have, who will and who wont! Tell me about your expereince, not too much from the chickens who wont try,I can do an autobiography if I needed your service !I would have triedit, if i lived in country which have a bit more priority in the Accident and emergency department for innocent drug users, so if i suffer from a mild stroke , overdose or anything am f&**^D. Is it as good as its reputation, and of course am not talking about this in a good way!Drugs are bad, but are they really? Apart from the high cost of living and slightly, maybe a bit more than slightly anti social behaviour is it that bad? Looking forward to your input in this!

p.s Drugs , alchohol and smoking seriously harms you, this write up is for pure entertainment and information, do not pick up the habbit and sue me. I am not worth a lot of money!

Mrs Madness

2010-02-08T11:23:00.000-08:00

I am still around, very busy with psychology, missing you all my co bloggers, i seriously need to sit down and get to business and I intend to do that!!New changes: I am married, managed to pass year 1 of my psychology degree and have changed work place, I now work in sexual health , part time as before! More sexual news coming ....But for the time being I am logging out!! Love you all!!

The Madness of the Mad House

2009-06-09T07:53:00.000-07:00

It’s been a long time since I blogged and this post is long overdue. The sea is finally clam and resting before the moon starts to shine again. I am not going to get all philosophical but what I am going to get is a bit psychological. My first year degree exams are over. The frontal lobe of my brain is full of psychology and exams and essays and lab reports and stats and the rest of the palaver. Now the sea is calm before the tsunami.

I am back at work full time for a couple of months before I take the bird read kingfisher to India for my wedding. All those people who blog reviewed Kingfisher airlines and warned me, it’s in my gene to not learn until I see it with my own two eyes.

I work in a mental hospital. I didn’t expect any change in circumstances in the 3 months gap I had, but I am officially declaring that all the insane are still no sane’er since I left St Ann’s. First day back and I see my Jamaican insane right in front of the hospital in his very coloured shirt giving traffic directions towards the ‘NO ENTRY’. Oh I am home…Bliss…

I have many friends here and I am talking about the insane ones. We have the guy at the canteen who uses the plastic knife during lunch time to shave. And of course bakes beans is his shaving foam. The lovely stud boy who stands on the gates and tells each and every single one on foot that he had big “tools” and the rest of them who just says hello and the minute you accidentally turn around and say hi your stuck for life.

I have reached my destination again. . . Oh life is a Bliss…

AbsoF^8$*nLutely Relaxed

2009-01-22T13:13:00.000-08:00

New Year resolution or not, I have restarted revisiting the local leisure centre. I need to look slenderly thin yet curvy on my wedding day, for myself! So I have started eating healthy read rabbit food read leaves and nuts, going to the gym and several keep fit classes and also to improve my skin and complexion sauna and steam bath. Like always my partner in crime is with me and I mean full on, maybe even more than full on as she is looking to book herself into the adult swimming classes for women only.

Well, in one of these Friday nights where we get a chance away and alone from the men , who are constantly on a mission to wreck the peaceful lives that we previously had , we decided to make it a point to indulge in two hours of complete relaxation and nirvana. My buddy being a sauna virgin was extremely curious but not even a glimpse of nervousness on her face.

Me: Ok babe, put the bikini on and lock your stuff away in the lockers!

She (that is her name, SHE): Oh right, but Aishu, I am so conscious of my little bulge near the left thigh and also my tummy flab which is quarter of an inch protruding compared to Kate moss’s! (For those who do not know Kate Moss, She is a london based supermodel who is the third time running winner of Miss Anorexia , by the world Anorexia society)

Me: Just get bikinied and let’s do what we came to do she!

She: ok, ok, but I haven’t shaved my legs yet!!

Well, basically after the one million questions and predictable answers, we are out seeking nirvana!

The steam room: As soon as she steps foot into the steam room, ‘Gosh, its steamy and hot in here’. For statutory reasons I cannot type what I said in reply to that. As she was blahing on about her thigh and quarter of inch projection, through all the steam we see a big figure and butt naked. She pours a whole bucket of water over the seating area and plunges herself on their. My poor friend wouldn’t take her eyes of the big figures big chest! I start saying in Malayalam, “you see She, the thing about black people’s bodies is yea... They seem to have big ….” And she stops me “I feel good, I love myself”

I knew we were going looking for Nirvana, but she attained it that quick. She was going for multiples of whatever she was feeling! “Oh look at that one, she must still be wearing Girls bra”, “oh will you look at all that cellulite”, “And madam thinks she is Miss world with a stomach looking like Buddha” And it went on, My girl was having the best time of her life and I wont deny it, our night of Nirvana turned into bitching, hardcore bitching about how much better we were. It’s sometimes nice to bitch about something other than the above mentioned men who are wrecking our lives.

In the hot dry Sauna, she didn’t enjoy anything by me putting burnol on the backside after accidentally burning herself by sitting on the most obviously marked hot wooden seats.
By Jaccuci time my girl was happy and relaxed and said to me “ Dasa, Nammukee bhudhi entha pandey thonanthey” to which I replied “ ellathinum athinathintethaya samayam undu vijaya”

After two hours of steaming, scrubbing each other, Indian woman accusing of perving on her boobs, washing , oiling, cleansing, toning and moisturising we had done it. We were relaxed, when we got outside and the wind hit our faces, we looked at each other and we knew it! With a peck on the cheek she said it with the biggest grin, Bring on the vodka! and I had one single reply to that "AbsoF^8$*nLutely"

Red Light DrugDerDam

2008-08-13T14:50:00.000-07:00

My first holiday out of the UK without the whole Mummy and Daddy thing was quite a plunge in the bloody deep end of the sea. Pimps, Prostitutes and that too plenty in number, drugs of all sorts. Magic mushrooms?? Oh yeas, Indeed I am told one of these magic buddies could be fatal. This place that I have been to has opened my eyes to the strange but open realities of life. The first thing I thought of was imagine them young teenage boys from India who get a rush on watching shakeela. If this came across them they would.. Okay I will leave that bit open for everyone to comment.

The Sex Show: Right, before anyone rushes into any judgements. This is one of the highlights of the place, having secured the cheapest one available (£25 per person) I couldn’t believe my eyes when the show started. You could see everyone excluding kids in there, granddads, girls, families, hen nights crews and of course Men. I still have not come into terms with fact that some thing like this could happen live and it’s LEGAL?? I was much more interested in the audience more that what was on stage. By the end of it, I wanted to do an in-depth research on uses of human Saliva, If I could use it for something say, medicinal or some sort, I would make a business proposal to the owner of Moulin Rouge, cups to all men, drool on to it and on departure you get £2.50 back. I would move to the country and become filthy rich and would never even have to worry about of going bankrupt. In this I have faith in the opposite sex, the drooling never ending drooling. Men will always be men.

The coffee shops: Well, the coffee shops are not coffee shops. You go in there and a big looking guy with red eyes, normally one eye smaller than the other will show you a list. And this list has all the different sorts of grass that is available to smoke. Basically coffee shops offer ganja, and one can use their premises to roll it, boil it or eat it. I see no worries on anyone’s faces. Everyone’s chilled out, happy and relaxed. The policeman walks in and buys some stuff from the big guy with one small eye. So ganja smoking is absolutely legal.

The red doors: Absolutely recommended for Men. I watch a lovely looking blonde in well, she has hardly got anything on; ‘come on in, I show you special time for just 50 euros’. Out of pure curiosity I try look inside, I see a bed with all sorts of things lined up next to the bed. My mouth still wide open out of pure disbelief and shock I ask, ‘Raj, these girls are actually….? Before I complete the question he says, Yep... that’s right Ash.’ duh*** No wonder they are looking at me in disgust, I am distracting one of their possible clients, Rajesh!

Now that I know what happens in this little country in Europe, I am born again. I would definitely recommend this lovely place to one and all, especially ladies. You get to see what the fuss is all about! For all the boys out there, it would be like a herd of desert citizen cattle released into endless grassland. I would like to dedicate this post to Mr K K K Subramaniyam who was the inspiration behind this holiday trip.

Life From A Tagged View!

2008-05-13T05:57:00.000-07:00

My blog mate, Ann has tagged me. So here goes. Ann, you better be happy about this and I dedicate this post to your exams. Does that make sense?!

1.LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER?

Gulp, Ok I will admit it, I don’t remember!!

2.WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
‘Hullabaloo in the Guava Orchard’ by Kiran Desai. Don’t know why, but I can relate to some of the stuff that our hero Sampath does!

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?

Monopoly and of course snakes and ladders. Monopoly, because I love money, Snakes and ladders, it’s the board game version of the story of my life!

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?

Anything that would be helpful in times of boredom!

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?
The smell when first rain’s hit the earth. Nostalgia…

6. FAVORITE SOUNDS?
Rain on the windows! Nice

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?

When I think about all the mistakes in life!

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?
I need to find myself a good husband!!! I wonder what ‘she’(my best mate) is doing!!

9) FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
Nandos all the way!!!!!!

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?
A palmist reckons I will have three boys, (sigh, the story of my life) so I have named the first one Aditya. I don’t know why this is!!1

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?
Buy that Mercedes CLK 63 AMG convertible with tinted windows, black metal alloys and private number plate. Buy few properties all over the world and enjoy my life!! ‘she’, u with me!!!

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
Ammaaa, some one asking me whether I drive fast?!! Do I? Ok get back to you later!!(:O)

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?
I have many on my bed, but so far I haven’t slept with any of them…..yet!

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?
I haven’t seen a scary one yet, not that I want to. But cool!!

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?

Ford Fiesta

16. FAVORITE DRINK?
Vodka and red bull all the wayyyyyyyyyyy!!

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD

pen my life down! Not pin it down!

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?
Nah ah..

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?
I would dye it jet black from the dirty brown it is!!

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.
Trivandrum, London

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
He he he, that is getting a bit dodgy there! Ok, I watch cycle race…what do you say!

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.
She is one crazy nutta, Just like me!

23.WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?
Socks from god knows when, plenty of loose hair, Bank statements that I am hiding from my father, the list goes on and on!!

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?
Yes, with a secret in my mind from the day I am born!

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?
Can be both, but more of a night owl, not for studying though.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?
Either depending on what I am feeling!

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?
Oh, Kerala!! Beautiful!!

28. FAVORITE PIE?
Apple?

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Vanilla, M&S clotted cream Vanilla ice cream.. Christ, shower your blessings.

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
I aint tagging anyone so, no one. I am a miserable git!! That’s right!

That FanF****inTastic Theory Test!

2008-03-25T04:56:00.000-07:00

Recently I have been to the driving Standards Agency to do a test! In order to do this test, I would have to provide my licence and counterpart of it! It is a requirement. I hate to refer back to my mother so much, but I am left with no choice. The woman keep all my paperwork and surprise surprise, she is a very bad record keeper. With all due respect to her, her memory is substantially disturbed. I go through the same procedure to get a sanction on release of my documents from her.

Me: Amma, I need my Licence counterpart (It could be anything from a hair straighter receipt to a Premium bond Certificate)

First step is blatant denial

Amma: What counterpart, I don’t have it!

Once I receive this response, I exercise a long, precise and hard stare.

Amma: You never gave it to me, why can’t you keep your own stuff! How old are you? Never ever give me anything anymore

This is the point where I bring out my diary saying the date and time I handed the document over to the amnesia sufferer. I have this new practice in place because; she has denied receipt and possession of many of my documents which are normally found by her at a later date.

After hours of going through each and every folder, she hands me my counterpart and spills out this dialogue

Amma: I am not going to take any more stuff from you as of today. I have given it to you and you make sure you don’t forget it when you go to the test!

Ahem, and the big day comes up. Test at 1.45. I started revising for it at 10.30 in the morning as I had done this once, it just expired. High way codes and all that crap is not really my cup of tea. I thought I would score to pass, SOMEHOW! I get there at 1.30, I am happy as Larry. With a big smile, I say to the receptionist I say, ‘hey, I am here for my theory test’. She greets me pleasantly and says’ Oh Hello, let me take your licence and …. Bzzzzzz. I did not hear the rest, I knew the rest. I forgot that Counter bloody part!!! I live half an hour away from the test centre and there is no way I am going to make it back. I explain to that little Madam at reception who firmly says, ‘Miss Kurup, I will give you until 2pm. Please don’t come in after that.’

I rush down to the cab office and said, ‘Listen mate, I don’t have time, I must get back before two and I am going all the way to barking ….blah blah’. I hate to repeat this out here, but Guess what the Eastern European Cab driver said to me’ Oh goodhh afthernoon Maadam, How are you thoday?. I said, ‘Just put that foot down and drive’! “Buth where thoo (to)”. I screamed and he said, Okay okay! The rest was all filmy, extremely filmy. Only instead of turning back to look at the Villain following in a Tata Sumo,I was looking at my Watch, my villain on that day. The man was driving like his butt was on fire and mind you; I was indeed sitting on the rear seat. People were beeping, he was jumping Traffic lights, and I haven’t seen this kind of driving since my ..well. my last driving test! He got me back to the test centre at 1.55pm. I opened the door and he goes, ‘ Maadam, goodh luck’. I had these in mind! Have a closer look at them!!

I did the test in a rush and was very optimistic about failing my test and guess what, I passed like a geek on exam frenzy. I was shocked with the marks!! I went down to the cab office to say Thanks and then the man goes to me, ‘ Maadam, I newu that you wouldh pass’. I was literally tearful. So that’s how I passed my theory test!! Again! ( he heee)

P.S Sorry have not been blogging for a while!! But I am back now for a bit of time! J Happy Easter to one and all!

Deeply frozen, Ghost and Tzp!

2008-01-28T04:45:00.000-08:00

Shreya may be curvy, but shakeela isn’t. When I started putting on weight, I went through a phase with all famous Amma where at stage 1, she said, well Shreya is curvy. Now that I am at stage (very uncontrollably fat) she uses, shakeela, we can’t call her curvy can we? To cut it short, I have been working out. Hard…Saturday from about 6.30pm to about 8pm, I was exploring all sorts of stretches to press ups to sit ups to shershyasana. (I was trained in yoga from a young age of 14). Sunday morning 11.30 am, I woke up, Nope , not moving, but I need the loo, nope, not moving. My legs are paralysed. I must have ripped every tissue, ligament, that tendon bugger. Veins ok! I can feel the pain, they must be ok. Monday morning, still in pain!! I have to go to work!

Deep freeze

Your instant solution to all sprains aches and pains.
Outside temperature 6 degrees.

I am not commenting on the rest. But, I am alive !

God of Small Things: After so many years I finally got to read her book.I don’t understand what the controversy is all about.If anything, I felt that she was thought provokingly brave!I thought it was a very sad story told in a very subtle way. I loved her deep insight on small things. A friend made a comment on Ms Roy as a psycho and in reply to that. ‘Give some names of a few male writers from your area, eh?’

Tare Zameen par: The reason why I watched this film was because of all the blog reviews from co bogglers. What an amazing film! I am spreading the word here. Do not miss! Amir Khan defiantly needs to add special thanks to * All bloggers who supported TZP* with his acknowledgments.

A Buddhist Perspective on Vegetarianism

2008-01-10T13:36:00.000-08:00

I have always admired vegetarians. Extra respect goes to homosapians who were once non vegetarians and have turned from red to green. Being in the midst of a transgression is what I call a very trying period. And I am in it now.

My aunt, ex Hindu but now turned Buddhist had influenced me to join the way of life. As much as I love peace and quiet and meditation, I do appreciate a piece of the ambiance created by the Indian “drums and saxophones”. Her husband and my uncle who still shares the same religion as me has apparently been pushed to the side with the Hindu gods. Visiting her house recently gave me feelings of a shock absorber. From incense, to oil burner to chanting. I always thought she was a bit..um...diametrical(read weird). She choose to have a rat and a bird (b£$ch parrot had bit me numerous times) as a pet as opposed to ....something like a dog. She chooses to do ballet when she was advised to do Bharathanatyam. She drew naked woman’s pictures, instead of the cell diagram. So it was merely an issue of amazement when the rest of the family heard the news. “Mini has turned Buddhist”.

“Um hm, no? So it’s ok, if I am a non vegetarian kunjama?”

“Of course, Buddhism is not a religion; it’s a way of life. The principal is that you can do anything you want as long as you know the consequences.”

Damn, this is good. I can do what I want. I gave a good ear to the stream of information which followed. Chittapan, by this time had said… “Out of all people, you…ay....never mind. Mini, are my Hindu kids in bed yet?” Our eyes followed as he walked to the stairs. “So like I was saying, come to a meeting next time. You might even get lucky and get to meet Orlando Bloom, like I did.”

“Kunjama, from this moment, consider me as one of you.” My mind fully concentrating on ‘Nam Myoho Renge Kyo’ for the next couple of hours

The inspiration and motivation started wearing down with the M25. By the time I got to Barking from Windsor, I was feeling the least of Buddhist. With the next Saturday visit to the temple, I confessed and promised Mr Lord Shiva, who resides in kailas avenue that I would never even think of changing God and let alone religion.

But I started giving some serious thought to the option that wasn’t a compulsory requirement for anything. I can still taste the salmon my lovely mother fried for dinner tonight, but with that aroma and taste in my mind….pause……pause…. I am going vegetarian. Now, whether this will end up like Mr Bean on holiday, only time can tell. Buddhism might be a way of life I was swept into (for a short period of time, okay very short period of time), vegetarianism is the way of life that I want to experience for a considerably amount of time. So Nandos, Mcd’s , KFC , Amma’s currys and fry’s and most important of all my meat curry….sob sob, with all the appreciation in the world for all these years of extravagant food experience, I Thank you. And Good bye!

To be continued….
Look forward to more exciting articles like: How I turned back (not 'my back')to being a non vegetarian!

‘Cos I ‘m real!

2007-11-09T02:57:00.000-08:00

This write up is dedicated to many of you peeps who are real! What makes you real? A real person is one who is brave enough to speak one’s mind. I truly believe in standing up for myself. When the subconscious you, shows the world themselves, the conscious you should be bold to come out and say, ‘and what, that is who I am’! People find real people harder to cope with for many reasons, when an individual shows their original character; the fake one struggle’s to match up with it. The majority will want to be entertained by the realistic one.

I remember having a conversation with my father a few weeks ago;

“But Atcha, you don’t know what they do behind closed doors.”

“I know what they do Aiswarya, they live up to standards”

“No, you don’t know half the story”

“Yea well, if they still manage everything, that’s their capability”

Capability? Capability? I was certainly shocked by this, but that’s the truth. Fakes get away with murder. Honesty doesn’t mean a thing in their dictionary.

I remember watching a clip on one of my favourite actors, Simbhu, the way he is on camera and off camera is so identical you cannot tell the difference. A reality show judge has been given the lip back by a contestant. As Simbhu or any other Indian celebrity wouldn’t have the barrier to defeat talk back like our own dear Simon Cowell does, he decides to leave. After a whole load of drama, he returns and speaks to the audience. He says he is not acting, he stops his act as soon as some one says ‘cut’ . “The public say I am adamant, stubborn and stuck up. Is it because I speak my mind, is it because I don’t fake it in front of people?” Yes, it is, it’s because you are real. That’s how Indians are, no matter what goes on under the sheets, they want to out up a beautiful content throw as the top layer; the fake layer.

I am a firm reflector of “Be thyself”. I will speak my mind and I intend to remain that way. I hate fake people and I hate liars who cover up their ugly inside. Oyi fakes, take a moment, sit down, think, is that really you? Why do it?

Drinks tonight!

2007-10-26T05:56:00.000-07:00

Carol, my Brazilian bird is leaving today! I bet she is the happiest person alive as she comes to the end of the three long months notice given to quit this wonderful job at Macmillan. One of our very valuable Web developers is moving to a slightly healthier company called ‘yahoo’. Its nearly 5’o clock and she is finishing her last half an hour with the great ‘Macmillan publishers’.

An email is sent to all, well, all of the people she likes to interact with during 9.30-5.30 working hours. “People, I am going. And I am going to yahOOoooooo. After so much of dedicated service I provided to Macmillan, I am finally free to go! Come and join me for a couple of beers and cheese at 5.00 tonight.”

Beer????? BEER!!!! Beer, the bitterness, the smell, the gas, the bottle… I hate it and I hate it!

I go down to ground floor consoling my wayward mind assuming my eyes MAY widen up with the sight of a few, at least one bottle of chilled white wine. But no, they don’t widen up.

“Oh Ash, you came! Oh my god, I didn’t expect you to get me a card, how sweet of you! Now grab a beer!”

Uuggeewwwwww… ‘Oh yeas, why not?’ I open a bottle of Beck’s hoping it will be dissimilar to the hundred million times I have tasted it before. The unchanged smell, the consistent disgusting tang. While the whole crowd is sipping on their beer socializing, I sit there in front of the pile of cranberry cheese and munch my way down. One full mouth of cheese and then sip of beer. ‘Yuk’…I am determined I will have to win this bottle over in 2 hours at least. Stu comes into the frame and says, ‘Ash, come. Let’s shoot off now, its 5.45’. I am staring at the bottle and look back at stu as to say, hello, I haven’t finished my drink yet. ‘Oh that!! Come on Ash, that’s just one pull’

And one pull it was. With immense effort I force the repeat that was coming up to my mouth. Fortunately I didn’t have my evening tea which turned out to be a blessing as alcohol (especially beer) and milk is a definite No No! When I get on the train its all coco land for me. I don’t know why alcohol in this form, gets to my head quick! May be it isn’t that bad after all. Why would I see this advert on the tube and think:

Caption: If you carry your baby high, then it’s a girl! If you’re carrying it low, it’s a boy!

I see this and the instant thought that came to me, “ Damn right, girls are carried high, because we think with our brains, and them dodgy boys are best carried low because they think with their D%&*'s.”

Oh Beer once in a while isn’t that bad after all! Get’s you thinking!

Barmy Fool

2007-10-24T09:16:00.000-07:00

This write up is dedicated to a very close friend of mine. Barmy Fool is a person who is quite unconventional or slightly irrational in behaviour. In this special personality’s case, he is not just slightly irrationally behaved.

In his early thirty’s this gentleman managed to marry twice and bring one soul to earth. I am quite vague about his childhood and upbringing but sources tell me that he was not the one and only barmy fool in the family which explains a lot. This young man was born and brought up in England, and is very proud to be British. He likes to refer to this verity to every other Indian citizen around. I often sit and wonder how this fool was convinced into marrying an Indian girl. The idiocy displayed by this barmy fool went unnoticed by the bride’s family, even though, now after watching Annyan {a Tamil film starring Vikram, playing a psychopath with multiple personality}they are betting their thoughts on the disorder or plain acting skills. His issue is still in quest. He managed to convince the bride’s family that he was an extraordinary personality (extraordinary all right) with great talents and noticeable family values. What they didn’t know was that he was a psychic disaster with a Creuella devils Indian version of a mother who possessed creative manipulative acting skills.

The bride was from a very well off family who migrated to Dubai in the early 80’s. She was a beautiful, soft spoken and talented. After her degree, under pressure from parents, my heroine had no choice but to get married to this well educated, average looking British citizen, our hero. Few days after the wedding, Mrs Indi Creuella managed to thief 250 sovereigns of gold her parents had gifted her with. How naïve were you my girl? It was very carefully termed to the girl that it’s better off in a locker which was under Mrs I. Creuella’s name!

London; the city were dreams came true or was it nightmares?? Our hero fire up on his hidden personality. Being a religious and god fearing person she was, waking up and praying was more of a routine for her. My heroine steps out of her bedroom and she saw our hero is a robotic form(this time) , walking straight with head held high, hands holding all of her pooja materials, includes the brass lamp , pot etc. He goes past like a grilled gate pulled open, slow, stern and steady. She walks behind him with squinted eyebrows wondering what his intentions are. ‘There they go, out of the windows’. The barmy fool turns around and gives a grin, now you can’t use your black magic against me. She did not know weather to laugh or cry. She was upset, the mixed emotions within her were demonstrated out as a blank plain face. ‘You can go out in the cold and get it if you want’. When she comes back, he locks the door. My heroine started getting used to his barmy actions. Standing on one leg and praying to his so called family god, declaring that he is God himself, have shivers from time to time claiming god entering his pure body, watch pornographic videos at her presence, numerous girlfriends online and offline.

She was quite patient and thoughtful; even though she found it tough to understand some of the loopy ridiculers he said and did. Giving birth, as for any girl was tough time for the heroine. She did it, and the only prayer she had was ‘please oh god, don’t make my child (in behaviour & appearance) anything like its father. She suffered, struggled, and cried her eyes out every night. How naïve were you my girl? The barmy nutta was always in for some teasing and mental slaughter. Even made her give up her highly reputed job in the civil services!! Many sly friends of her’s were enjoying this drama, she had enough. It was time to break the silence and she demanded divorce. The barmy fool was happy and was not prepared to live her in peace. After years of endless crazy actions, history repeats. He has found his new pray. I hear the birth of another couple. The bride is an unknown person. Same routine, Indian girl, dying to come to the city of London to live her dreams or is it nightmares. With a good amount of sorry feelings, I wish you a good luck with my hand on my heart!!
Based on a true story. No characters or incidents are fictional.

What does Kartik do?

2007-10-19T06:48:00.000-07:00

“In a meeting, in a meeting, will talk to you later” I acknowledge this instant message and give a suggestion to change his online Status to “IN A MEETING” rather than available and that too with great highlighted Bold green. After half an hour when I opened Googletalk again, it still says available. Men. . . .

Mr Friend Kartik works for IBM India. The brain works overtime for this individual as he is a computer nerd. I would like to share a conversation that I and this gentleman had the other day.

Kartik: Hey Ash, I am sorry about yesterday. I was so heavily stuck in a ‘serious’ meeting for five and a half hours. (Please bear in mind the online presence oh the culprit and that too as ‘available’)

Ash: oh right. Yea don’t worry about it.

Then it’s all how are you today’s and out of both of us who hates our job more? I win in the end. In this period of time we both go off to do our own things and there are numerous brb’s. But I start to notice the frequent occurrence of a question, the same question over and over again.

Kartik: when your next show?

Either this guy has a memory issue caused by overloaded routines experienced by the brain or he is just being a man. Just like all of them, I would say. Then he gives me speech token of appreciation by these words.

Kartik: seems like you’re passionate about it, which is good.

Ash: Just like you are of writing! Dancing is hard work and the fact that I work full time doesn’t quite help.

Kartik: umm.. Well kind of. I mean writing doesn’t ask so much of me as dancing do u.....
I get my laptop, 20 minutes, I write something. If writing was hard work, I would never...he he he (he he he to garnish the statement)

Ash: Right! Aren’t you very modest?!

Kartik: I am capable of modesty. I am so proud I am this modest. Have you ever seen some one so modest? That me!

{Ahem….}

Ash: Listen I will be right back.
Kartik: Ping me when you come back please!

Ash: where is the number?

Kartik: Office/Mobile?

Ash: Mobile (Duh***)

Kartik: +91 98 --------- (unfortunately for data protection I cannot publish the exact digits. Sorry to have disappointed you girls, or is it boys? Kondu knows the answer)

I make a missed call in order for him to obtain mine. I hear a dodgy pirate copy of an old crappy English tune. Confirmed, it is no one other than our old dear American Stud boy Bullshee.

Ash: That was me.

Kartik: OOoooooh, I have an international number to store on to my phone.

I often wonder whether he has been to America before and most important of all Does he really work for IBM!?!

Some how in the conversation my feminist Sub conscious mind broke its barriers and dashed out , drew the curtains and said “ Men , they are all the same” to which Mister here gave me a very scientific yet barely merged with physiological explanation:

Kartik: no i’m just getting started
Women....for you it’s just about glands.....see....
Chemicals in your body, they're just there too much
And send u off in bloody emotional outbursts
All in the biology of it
Men, we're sensible
The lack of too many chemicals may make us less emotional and stuff
But it keeps our heads on straight
The only chemical which gives us any trouble is that bugger testosterone....but he's in charge of bigger biceps and hair on all the right places, so we don’t complain much!
It’s all scientific.

By this point, I have filed my nails and varnished them and managed to yawn five times.
And then there comes Kartik with:

“Now where’s your rebuttal?”

Ash: P&$% off, how about that for a reply?

Kartik: Typical, Vayaru niranju (used to say, yep, I had enough. Cant beat what you said)

Burrrp…burrrrppp

Ash: yuk

Kartik: We can’t even burp in peace!!!(it’s a strong statement with protest in the front line working in teams with arrogance and ungratefulness, I decide to retaliate)

Ash: Whatever. . . . .

Kartik: one question. .

Ash: u fart, cough, sneeze puke all in peace
Without a care in the world about the other sex
And... Yea also scratching privates in public
How could I leave that out?
Don’t bother with your question

Kartik: that’s how f***in confident we are about our body!!!

(Girls can you believe that? What kind of an answer is that?)

I have a justification for everything (don’t they all) Now let me get back to my question!

Ash: Don’t bother and that’s just disgusting!

Kartik: aaaaaaaahhhhhhh
Back to ma question!
Why is "whateva" the standard female answer to annnnnnnyyyyyyy situation???

Ash: Because we think.. You’re a bunch of narriis who would say anything and everything to justify a situation. a ‘whatever’ means, I am not wasting my energy and brains to debate the circumstances because you’re not making sense
get it?

We don’t think you make sense.

Kartik: hmm… Hmmmm… Wateva….!!(You got to give it to the boy; he took it in at least and made use of it on me)

Ash: don’t use used needles son!

Kartik: he he he
Was just trying on the shoe
When’s your next show then?

After this we somehow came to names. How a persons name can mould into the particular individuals personality, obviously the kings of all Bulls**ts would not budge into what I was trying to explain.

Ash: I read an article on Manorama online. Apparently when a person is called by their name, their personality blends in with the meaning of the name
Does that make sense?

Kartik: that might make sense on a very very very very very deep subconscious level
But in normal human beings..........nahhhhhhhh

Ash: if my name was something like Michelle. I would be tempted to wear shorter mini skirts....because that’s what Michelle’s do.. Don’t u agree?

That’s my theory

Kartik: Interesting, now I have to figure out what Kartik’s do?

Ash: I have the perfect answer for that. I will make a post on my blog!

Kartik: And what exactly would u be writing eh?
Kartik's scratch their privates and burp a lot.
Pompous asses who correct others grammar.
But in spite of all their flaws they are ultimate stud boys!

That's what he does

Apparently so! This post is dedicated to our one and only writer who don’t own a functional border. Horizon is the limit for this person and he gets high on breathing which makes him very low maintenance. So lets all celebrate the existence of this great personality!

The elegant lady is my mother.

2007-10-03T07:09:00.000-07:00

I often have to hold my head down in shame as I truly believe that I do not spend enough time with my mother. She can me one of the most spiteful, vindictive bitter woman one can come across but sometimes she is the most ingenuous gullible harmless soul you would have to deal with. I am in doubt of her age still, as every other month her age seems to be fluctuating not much better than the British weather. With a full on makeover or a just woken up pyjama look……. (Silence) … (Sigh)… she looks like my sister. Now, I would like to think that the hereditary factor of slow- ageing- syndrome is the reason why this is rather than me growing older at a pace faster than Mr Shoemaker’s car. Apart from the hair loss, my father is of no help too. With a full get up, he manages to get away with me as the wife. He was asked at Heathrow by an officer, ‘oh is the wife okay to have that in her hand baggage?’ to which Atchan replied…. ‘Yea, but she is my daughter’. My mind is analysing the words coming from the offender’s mouth after the crime…… “Oh you look very young (after checking his passport) Mr Kurup, lucky man”….. Mind still searching… no apology from the offender to me. So I am not new to this system of deliberate transgression, which I put up with a most effortless fake smile I can afford. The thought of the number of times people have questioned the association of my mother with me, will make me be desperate to get myself checked into a low cost 3 star and above rehab centre.

The number of candles on her birthday cake was very controversial issue that I dealt with recently. It was August 11th , my aunty and my cousin were round as it was Amma’s unknownth birthday. Atchan was absent for the cake cutting ceremony as he probably threw a tantrum on the day over the bathroom and bedroom lights been switched on simultaneously or the curry she had made last week had too much salt in it. He has this rare habit of not talking to the individual who is having the special day. So it was all four of us girls, Ishika who was too young to count was the only one who did not question the number of candles present. I decorated the cake and brought it to the dining room. Before she blew them, she questions: Aishu, why is it just 10 candles here? Oh yeas, because the candles from the shop comes in a packet of ten and I really do not know your real age. She didn’t want any further explanation to the matter, as she was determined that she wouldn’t tell us her age.

I often receive a phone call from and unnamed friend or relative “ oh Ashy , where are you? I miss you, come and stay for a bit, I could do with a laugh” . As far as humour goes in my friends and family circle I am the one with the dysfunctional border. I do not toil to entertain people, it’s something I am born with, and I feel strange when I am holding myself back when I know I can say something that would make people crack up. Sometimes I am in deep thoughts of serenity , okay not really quite that but about my bank balance, credit cards, future mortgage, interest rates, biggest of all troubles(Raj) I go quiet. Then questions are shot from every angle, “what’s wrong Ash?; you alright Ash? Why you so quiet, you hungry? Basically I am not allowed to give my vocal cords a rest. I am your ultimate solution to entertainment, but who entertains me?

I wouldn’t dare say that Amma is a boring person (I don’t pay rent and food is still provided free at a cost of my jewellery and clothes being used) but she defiantly lacks that spark to make people laugh with a few words. Instead, she specialises in practical goof stick comedy. I am going to get killed for this, but here goes...

On a windy February Monday morning. The day she wakes up a little later than normal as all the cooking is done on Sunday , so the glooms kick in side by side with the alarm. After all her morning chores before the boots are zipped up she yells from down stares “Aishu, its -3 today, so if you are going to be brave enough to go without your scarf , you will suffer” she always like to prove her point in an inappropriate way with a tint of sarcasm. Now Mrs Pillai, has a tendency of having a runny nose and even worse watery eyes in these extreme cold conditions. From here on the story was narrated to me by the dupe herself

Apparently boards the C2C train in the morning (C2C is one of the most posh’est trains available from suburbs’ to central London)

It is not generally that packed compared to the underground services available. So the temperature is freezing for the first few moments when you board the train. The dupe couldn’t find a seat as she is so miniature that even the guide dogs push in before her. She is pushed into the middle of the seating area, where she glances at some friendly faces and nods to gesture out a good morning, what shitty weather eh? She feels the nose playing up again and she knew it what the nose heating up due to the central heating in the rail car. She digs it out of her side pocket in handbag and gives a good blow. That’s better. She was getting a bit of unwanted attention for the action, couples giggling, a suited man looking up from his book, people wiping off smiles from their faces. As far as our victim was concerned, it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Blow your nose! She look’s at it. It’s an underwear! It’s her white underwear that she had on the radiator that she blew her nose on. She misinterpreted it for her hanky when she grabbed it on her way out. I couldn’t stop snorting when I heard the climax of the story from the devils mouth.

I have been Tagged

2007-09-13T06:21:00.000-07:00

I will have to admit, I did not have a clue of what I was supposed to do when Lechu send me a scrap followed by an email me on that Friday saying you have been tagged. The email did not mention or illustrate anything as to how I would respond to the whole ‘tag’ thing.

The email was as follows:

hey,
1.thanx for understanding.its tuff to learn all alone..
2.that post of urs was a roar
3.parvathi is not married yet.i guess its abt time..
4.my weekend is gonna b boring wt lods of buks n maths 5.i lov u too..XXXXXX i wl send longer ones in time.see,i am already bak on the net..#@%$#% me!!
Byeeee

This is my best friend who loves to show her love in the form of emails doing her best.

And I found it very easy to reply to this as you can probably imagine what I said.

Anyway, after two days of questioning, via scraps as I completely abandoned emailing her, she gave me a “detailed explanation” as to how to deal with this.

Aiswarya:
hw do i do that tag thingyy.. i am leavin a comment on for u ryt now

lekshmi:
jus answer those 18 ques ther..!!

Aiswarya:
as comments?
lekshmi:
no as a post in ur blog..

So much for the detailed explanation!!!!

Anyway. . . Here goes. .

1) Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it

This is not a very hard one. Which scar I want to pick is the question. I would answer this, if you can rephrase the question to, ‘out of the many scars you have got due to carelessness and stupidity during childhood, pick one and explain why you have it?’. But if you want me to just answer refer to ‘Down the Drain’ the post I have previous to this one or click on the link below

http://aizhot.blogspot.com/2007/09/down-drain.html

The incident explained in the post left me with a reasonably evident, but now antique scar.

2) What does your phone look like?

I hate to say this but my phone looks like a Man United kit, no other reason than its white and Red. I have always admired Nokia’s as I truly believe that they are the best phones available for people like me, whose brains refuse to work in a team with technology in it. I did have a pink Nokia 6111, it was a gorgeous phone, and it was God’s gift to women kind. I enjoyed every moment of my new partner until the day I accidentally tipped it into my hot cup of tea. I took it out if my hot steamy tea and the flash on my phone lit up. It was making ‘bzzzZZ’ noises; I suspected that it was the charge from my battery hyperventilating, shocked by entry of the Tea. I dissembled the phone, tried all the tricks of the trade from wiping it with cotton wool to sun drying it to radiator drying it to even blow drying it with my professional hair drier. The tea had left its permanent scar on my display screen. Did I say scar again? Anyway, apparently alcohol {100% alcohol from pharmacy} can help dry the phones who had taken a dive into liquids due to hyperactive owner’s sloppiness. By that point I managed to thief Raj’s phone which is my current phone, Nokia 5300, Xpress Music.

3) What is on the walls of your bedroom?

It was my choice; due to prolonged visits to Ikea the tropical theme influenced me a lot. I changed my carpets to wooden flooring to give it the tropical idea which I regret so much now, because I freeze my Butt to death during winter. I painted the bottom half of the walls a tropical green, sort of like a sprite bottle color green, with a middle lining of white , the top half is painted with a pale shade of green. The room looks like a tropical forest with all my clothes in a mess and cups and glasses and plates everywhere. The way I see it, all it needs is a wild animal, and my mum tells me “that could be arranged, but then where will I install a new tropical forest for the animal I already have” Mums can be so harsh, so brutal sometimes.

4) What is your current desktop picture?

At work, I have a picture of me, my mum and my aunty. At home I have one of me swaroop and Ragini. I change them too often, but I am always in it somewhere. That’s one person I don’t get bored of, me.

5) Do you believe in gay marriage?

In all fairness, this question is too controversial for me to answer. My closest team member is a gay guy. And he is looking at me from the other side of the room. ‘No, I have had my tea already stu, thanks’. So moving on swiftly.

6) What do you want more than anything right now?

To be rich and famous….

7) What time were you born?

4.20. I came a bit too early. I always hated swimming and water. The amount of times, the swimming instructor has said ‘that’s it Ash, I think you are ready for the deep end’ and I dive in and don’t rise up, I can’t count. After the deep end trial session I am with the 5 year old paddlers. And I am supposedly a Piscean, some Piscean, fish who can’t swim and can’t be trained to swim neither, nice. So the point I was trying to make here is, all that water I was in (what is it called bag of water? Water bag? Water bottle?)and the blood, Placenta, I couldn’t handle. I am told I made enough trouble for the bearer, Amma, shot her blood pressure up, made her put on weight, stress you name it, my second name was trouble from the start. I finally succeeded and I was out well earlier than I was meant to be out. Maybe I should have stayed in and my swimming skills would have been much better.

8) Are your parents still together?

I am still confused about how they do it, but they are. . .

9) Last person who made you cry?

Rajesh can’t remember why. . I probably raised an argument because I haven’t cried for a while and I wanted to. But can’t remember the topic . . . any idea Raj?

10) What is your favorite perfume / cologne?

Ghost- oh god, I love the night fragrance by Ghost

11) What kind of hair/eye color do you like in the opposite sex?

Jet black, I am not racist, but I can’t handle any other hair colors on men

12) What are you listening to?

‘Unakkul naane’ from pachaikili muthucharam. This film I must have watched at least 10 times by now. Was interested in it when the book derailed came across. The character played by Jothika would be anyone’s dream role. I am in love with the song at the moment. People who haven’t watched this film especially if you are married, now’s the time to do it.

13) Do you get scared of the dark?

Hell yeah, I imagine red eyes from behind.

14) Do you like painkillers?

If in the form of alcohol yes, I am in love with them.

15) Are you too shy to ask someone out?

Shy is not the word, I think I am too proud to ask anyone out. I have always been asked out, never had to ask anyone. I smell someone being cocky... Do u?

16) If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?

Oh, yeas food. Mackerel (ayala) fry, Aviyal (symbolizes my life, a mixture of all sorts of crap in it and Rasam. That’s what I am carving for. Amma should know I am always craving for it.

17) Who was the last person who made you mad?

My mum, this morning by storing my electric sandwich maker in the dishwasher. I mean which nut case would be crazy enough to do that.

18) Who was the last person who made you smile?

Veena, we had a very heart to heart talk. I was very impressed with the conversation I had this morning with my baby cousin

Thanks for reading. I would like to Tag Bulshee with this post

Down The Drain

2007-09-06T02:40:00.000-07:00

Uncertain of the age, even though a strong guess would aim at 14. This is the great ‘Holy Angels Convent’ time. I was always amazed by fireworks, not the noisy ear drum breaking ones that used to scare ‘Whitey’ my bitch; But the ones that opened my eyes wide. Deepavali, I loved it. The only issue was getting my father, who was pretty unpredictable for a lawyer to buy sum fire works for me. I remember Deepavali’s where I was left with none, so had to over at my aunts to see this wonderful display of yellow sparkles.

As I had a few days off and Christmas exams were quite soon, dad decided to take me to Gayathri’s house. Our families had known each other for years. Prabhu, who was Gayathri’s brother , also happened to be my puppy love, of course he did not know that. My first love letter to him was when I was very young, a card that my friend Jitha from Kuwait, had charitably given me. Trust me, didn’t I get in trouble for that, I swear parents over react to silly things so much that, when the real deal comes, they do not know what to say or do.

Anyway, I went to the house with much excitement I could make a fist of both hands and shake it off, biting my teeth. The ‘masked depressed’ look I could fake in those days, helped me tons. My dad possessed a Maruti 1000 at the time. A beautiful brand new pearl white car. Let me just make it clear to everyone, before all the international cars were launched Maruti was treated with utmost respect, so was the passengers. I believed so until I saw the amount to Maruti’s on Indian bumpy roads on my trip to Kerala last year. Moving on swiftly to the matter, I went to the house to see everyone. All were glad to see me and I was quite sure I could hide the joy of seeing Gayu and Prabhu, ok.. Prabhu more. I was acting as if I was the queen of beauty with my well made up face, pretty little skirt and white top with nice cute shoes. The most exciting thing was Mini aunty would sit there and talk about going to watch films and how we should plan a trip to Kodai again and about uncle and her arguing. I was always in for some girly gossip. Even though I never got involved, Prabhu did. He used to lay the top half of his body forwards on the teak wood dining table looking at the mom’s and making silly comments. Oh boy, wasn’t I in love? My eyes were constantly on him, but I was pretty sure he had a girl friend. He was always listening to love songs and in deep thoughts expect for when he used to play badminton with me, and that too was with too much of manly pride. Would let me score to save his life. Any way we all ate, uncle came a bit later, so we stayed until about after 10.

Now, their Garage was rented out to some fireworks dealers during October time. As much as the excitement goes, I prefer the fireworks to Prabhu as I would recall myself not quite old enough to be talking Romeo and Juliet. Just as we are about to leave, Prabhu said bye to all of us, and to me, the gesture indicated gave me the impression that it was the last thing he wanted to do ‘say bye to me?’ I was not very bothered as I knew the fireworks were coming. I gave prabhu a disgusted look in the most egoistic way possible to show my pride and walked like a supermodel out of the house towards the shop with my short skirt swaying from side to side simultaneously with my pony tail. He probably didn’t even pay any attention to it. I came round to the road where the shop was and ordered all sort of fireworks. My dad took hold of most of them but let me carry the small stick ones [kampithiri] I was walking to the car doing a little hop here and there, feeling proud of the look shot at Prabhu and the fireworks I was in possession of. Haa.. U might have your garage full of fireworks, which you can’t touch. I have a load on me now. I often sit and reminisce the crazy immature thoughts that used to cross my little mind and think , wonder whether my children would think like this. If that were the case, I probably wouldn’t need polygraph reading for lie detecting.

I reached the car and those were the days when the key had to be manually inserted and my father had gone in and so had my mom and while I was gazing at the end of a display high in the sky. I opened the door and that’s all I remember. I had dropped into the drainage pipe. Instead of getting into the car, I had jumped into the pipeline. I remember screaming, and my dad running with me in his two arms as if I was a new born baby with out even its neck set yet. I looked back and my mum, was laughing so much that she had to cover her mouth. I open my eyes wide to give her the telepathy message ‘woman, how dare you, I could have broken my leg, in fact I am uncertain about it I am sure I am bleeding to my white pretty shoes. Some mum you are’

I look up to my father, whaaat? You’re laughing, lord have mercy on me!! Don’t they have a care in the world? I am their one and only daughter, as far as I know, unless I was adopted, I could have died, and worst of all I lost the stick looking fireworks in the drainage pipe. I am feeling slightly faint by this point due to the blood loss, but I get the shock of my life when I am being carried into Prabhu’s house. The super model walk, the swaying skirt and pony tail, the cute pale cream shoes all went down the drain, in my case literally. I was put on their sofa, when everyone ran to catch a glimpse of me as if I was some alien. Even prabhu turned up and asked ‘etheupattieadeyy’(oh what happened) in the most sarcastic nastiest way possible with a laugh to go with it. Everyone was sympathetic until my mum started to explain “how” and most evil of all “where” I fell. I was not a happy bunny when they all started doing expression of “ oh it smells, lets all cover our noses” I decided it was time for me to react, I looked at everyone in one whole circle and I cried. It wasn’t the fact that I was bleeding or the pain or loosing my fireworks or even one of my cute shoes turning red. It was the fact that no one found it serious except for me. Guess the crying did them favours, because the next step would have made me cry without me putting any effort into the matter myself. Aftershave, a whole splash of it on my wound. I screamed my life out. My eyes were full of tears and I looked down on my legs, and I saw the blood clearing out, but a fairly long white thread hanging out, and to my surprise it was from the inside of my skin, I started crying and saying, oh god, My vein’s out and I am going to die. Ammaaa…My dad started to calm me down and said, it’s a tendon. Whatever it was I was positive that I was to die in a few hours. I came home in the car, this time I was allowed to sit on the front seat next to my dad. My heart was feeling heavy, due to the embarrassment I had caused myself in front of so many people. But most important of all, I got an extra pack of fireworks for that deepavali to cheer me up.

I faked a hurt leg for a week, which helped me have a wonderful Deepavali at home, without attending school. Even though I went down the drain, my Deepavali did not after all

Based on a true story

Sorry

2007-08-24T17:33:00.000-07:00

How many of us have found ourselves to be a hundred percent comfortable with the word ‘sorry’? How many of us can clarify the times they have said the word and meant it? Even though the word is a daily used tool in appropriate and some times terribly inappropriate situations, I enumerate it as an olive complimenting a large glass of Spanish white wine. Please don’t underestimate the size of the olive, as both on its own are like stories without climaxes. I can’t lay my hand on heart to say, I have explained a whole situation to someone before I said sorry and meant it!

Involvement of a female friend in some one’s life, love life to be exact.:

But then why did you have to do it?

I am sorry

Not good enough, all that pain I went through because of your selfishness, is it jealousy? What were you trying to achieve out of it?

I was being stupid I am sorry!

You keep saying the same thing! How could you though? I trusted you and all this time, you have been playing your dirty game because you found it entertaining?

It’s not like that!

What is it like? What are you trying to say? You are sick in the head? Explain to me, why?

Look, I said im sorry. If u wana forgive me, forgive me.

No

I could very easily say a big bitter ‘NO’ to this person because, the amount of thought she credited towards my inquisition was much less than minimal.

Where as

But then why did you have to do it?

I want to be given a chance to explain to you. I thought what you were doing was going to upset you in the near future.

Not good enough, all that pain I went through because of your selfishness, is it jealousy? What were you trying to achieve out of it?

I understand where you are coming from. I was not being selfish, I will admit dropping to my knees, the way I dealt with it was completely ill fitted for the situation and I wish I hadn’t, but, what I was intending to gain was a positive and a happy future for you. I am not proud of myself and I regret being excited (not in a positive way) about the unhappiness or discomfort in your life which were caused by my unseasonable involvement in this matter. I wish I did not get involved, I realise that things would have taken its turn and helped you found the destination without being broken down occasionally and a few dark diversions. Please forgive me Ash, I am sorry.

Hmm. .Maybe we can work things better this time. It will take me a long period of time, before you become a trusted comrade of mine again.

Thank you so much, that’s all I needed. I will prove it to you. I would not attempt to do a thing that would make u blue! I promise!!

Hmmm…

If you look into

** Not good enough, all that pain I went through because of your selfishness, is it jealousy? What were you trying to achieve out of it?
Part1
I understand where you are coming from. I was not being selfish, I will admit dropping to my knees, the way I dealt with it was completely ill fitted for the situation and I wish I hadn’t, but, what I was intending to gain was a positive and a happy future for you. I am not proud of myself and I regret being excited (not in a positive way) about the unhappiness or discomfort in your life which were caused by my unseasonable involvement in this matter. I wish I did not get involved, I realise that things would have taken its turn and helped you found the destination without being broken down occasionally and a few dark diversions. Please forgive me Ash,
Part 2
I am sorry. **

This is 916 gold, part 1 being gold and part 2 being copper. If joined together at the precise proportion, its beauty. Either partitioned is like saving money to decorate one’s grave. Fruitless.

The mind has its own calculator pop up when and when not to accept an apology. When screen tested with the script that compliments ‘sorry’ it recalculates the possibility of a positive or a negative result. Each time we hear a sorry on its own, we overrule the message sent by the brain and say ‘its ok, don’t worry’. But very rarely does the brain accept the constant rejection of the mind to side with it’s judgement. The filing rooms full of dusty “No I don’t forgive you’s” “No you don’t mean it’s” “No you’re a ruthless cow who ruined my life’s” “No it’s not ok’s” get too full, that you would react and hate your mind - the marathon runner who made the decision and gave the outcome without your permission. These are regrets – only I am talking about theories around sorry. Every regret works this way. The principal is the same. To fasten the mind down and let the Big Boss decide “The Brain”

Jai the Actor! Part of my novel...

2007-08-23T06:21:00.000-07:00

I do not expect jai to be there and open the door and pass on a comment, even though some part of my heart was beating with nervousness, thinking I would see Jai’s big cheeky smile. My heart is beating so fast and I feel an uneasy feeling in my stomach, all this to get into my place of work. ‘You are a bit late aren’t you?’. Says the mother. Oh, I am so sorry, I had to do some things at home for my dad, and I will stay back today so that everything gets done. She just nodded without paying much attention to me. She was looking ahead, which made me turn my head and to my shock Jai was calling me. Go on then, said jai’s mum! I said,’ I am coming’ rushed inside to leave my stuff and went out. I was almost running and he was no where to be seen. And ‘ bhooom’ !! I jumped and saw him standing there laughing at me. I was more angry than scared. I said’ Don’t…………….do that again’’. He was walking towards me looking straight into my eyes and my legs were automatically stimulated to walk backwards facing him. ‘What you going to do if I do it again?? Huh?’ he questioned. I couldn’t quite judge weather he was angry or was he playing around with me. We were starring at each others eyes and then he looked at my lips and my natural reflex action was to look at his and I saw a smile broadening up. And I turned around and walked away from him. ‘I called you to do something for me’ shouted jai, ‘tell me what it is, I am going to be a bit busy’ I said as I was walking off.