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Forget it!

In the animal kingdom, I belong to the species- Homo Sapiens. I’m sub-classified into Absentmindo Takenoblamus, common name being Alpha. I’m quite a rarity for my clan.

I have been absentminded from the time I remember (or do I?). I have a memory of an elephant when it comes to people, events, conversations. But a goldfish’s memory when it comes to wearing my clothes, paying the cashier, wondering why I am in the bathroom. Once I forgot to wear the salwar part and strutted around town in my kameez. It probably seemed like a new trend in Madras, so no one bothered to point it out (that’s of course my theory). One other time I was close to spending a night in prison.

I’ve had my embarrassing moments and have given folks around me jitters and entertainment alike. I never learn from previous blunders. When I am so preoccupied, I don’t remember what I need to be learning. Moreover, it’s is always somebody else’s fault.

Today it was the car’s fault when I ran out of gas in the middle of the highway. The freakin indicator doesn’t shout at me to fill gas! This time I was unperturbed, as opposed to the other two times I ran out of gas in this same month. I just waited for somebody to help me push the car to the corner and waited a little longer for someone else to get me gasoline. I thanked them profusely making them feel it’s the worst thing that ever happened to me. I drove on knowing very well that this will happen again.

I better get to work, before I forget why I am here.


Friday, October 10, 2003 | Comments (13) |

When Yogi met Alphy

Yogi asked me to put my post abt this at the same time he did! Some complicated scheme. I have no patience for his lazy highness. So here it is-

When I first started blogging, I never wanted to meet any fellow blogger. Writing nonsense under the cloak of anonymity suited me just fine. But as I quickly got engulfed into the addictive world of blogging, most of my set rules just went flying out of the window. I encountered some people who just ‘clicked’ instantly. I wondered a lot about them, what kind of lives they lead, how they look and mostly how great it would be if I could actually meet them.

Yogi was one such guy. Agreed weird people fascinate me. After exchanging a few emails, he promptly sent me his photo and set up a meeting. Yeah girls, it’s the same one he sent you all. Guess he was scared of dealing with my reaction in person.

Just by reading his posts, I knew we would hit it off if we ever met. So I was pretty excited and looking forward to this encounter.

Meeting was scheduled for Sunday lunch.

Saturday night we (hubby and I) had a party downtown in our friend’s house. I wanted to get back home early (around midnight) and get some rest. I had told my friends about this ‘bachpan ka yaar’ I had to meet (since nobody knows I blog). I even had a wild story about how I knew Yogi in case anyone tried to interrogate. Some thing about how we met at this Himalayan expedition when he saved me from a Yeti. The sad part is no one wanted to know. But as Murphy’s law goes, we ended up crashing at this friend’s place for the night. I didn’t sleep the whole night. I kept waking people up one by one and regaling them with some rubbish. I don’t think anyone heard or cared about what I had to say.

I was pretty dazed, zoned out, sleep deprived by Sunday morning. I was hoping Yogi doesn’t mistake it for anxiety about the meeting.

So Mr.Yogustus comes home with flowers and truffles ...how very sweet! He looks like his photo.. even wears the same sweater. The ‘bachpan ka yaar’ story seemed quite genuine at this point. We didn’t feel like strangers. Lot of bantering and kidding. Hubby gets along with him too. That’s always a good sign.

We go out to eat at a Mediterranean restaurant nearby, next best to my idlies. Idlies??! What was he thinking? I was hoping he’d get some parathas/pakodas from his maasi’s place for us.

Anyways, 3 hours went by pretty quick. He had to rush to meet this other babe (rather thrust himself on her).. Trust our Yogi baba to lead such an active ishtyle.

He was just like what I expected. No surprises here. Just like his blog- Yogi is genuine, honest, endearing and funny. Come back soon!


Monday, October 06, 2003 | Comments (13) |

Will I be kissed today?

Sleeeeeeepy yawwwwwwwwn! Brush..brush..brush! Brush to the right, brush to the left…*frothy yawn* Sleepy eyes fall on my toothbrush, sitting in the holder. My brush is there. Double take! So what’s this in my freakin mouth!!??

Jolted out of my sleep. My eyes turned from slits to tennis balls. Quickly stopped brushing to examine the brown worn out bristles of this very familiar toothbrush. Oh no!!! Spit spit! Rinse rinse! More rinse rinse! (repeat with soap  and water)

It’s the old brush I use to clean the crevices of the sink, bathtub and other unmentionable places.


Friday, October 03, 2003 | Comments (23) |

Wild Wild World

I love the outdoors/nature/wilderness. I want to retire in the mountains. In India, I have hiked in the Himalayas. While nothing can even come close to that experience, I have realized that every place is unique- waiting to be explored. We've done quite a bit of back-country hiking (far away from the maddening crowds).

Lessons learnt..

-All vague sounds from bushes and trees are not bears.

-All small animals scurrying away in the dark are not baby bears.

-Funny noises from inside the tent are snores, not rattle snakes.

-Its easy to dig a hole, but very difficult to aim your poop into it.

-Its better to wash your ass with water than carry used TP out.

-Smashed bread & cheese two days old doesn’t taste very good, even if you are tired and hungry.

-Its better going downhill than uphill.

-Distances are deceiving. Just two more miles is quite a bit of a haul.

-When you are ready to swim, the water is frigid.

-It always will rain when you don’t want it to.

-When you cant have shower for days, you learn to use 'wet-ones' to clean critical areas.

-Breaking the handle of your toothbrush saves a few ounces.

-You back-pack never gets lighter by the 3rd day after you’ve eaten some food.

-You will never find what you need when you need it. Hold on Mr. Bear, I’m searching for the bear-spray!

-Lastly, you are hooked to wilderness, there's no cure! Sightseeing trip to NY..naah!

I wrote this travelogue as soon as I got back from our first hike in the US. Its close to my heart. Read it when you find time.


Thursday, October 02, 2003 | Comments (14) |

Compliment???

My purple lips curl with evil intent. Eyes spooky white. Eye balls wander off in an orbit of their own, one facing north and the other northeast. Flaring nostrils in a crooked nose. Golden-green skin. How the heck did green get there! I hate the way I look. Is there a way I can salvage this? Overall, I might have given Amrish Puri a run for his money.

He takes a few steps back. Stares attentively, cocks his head to the right, squints & nods slightly.

‘Nice play with the colors there. An uncanny resemblance" says Jeff, my art instructor. "That’s one awesome self-potrait."


Wednesday, October 01, 2003 | Comments (20) |

Family Snipp-its (Part II)

...Continued from previous post.

A week later I had to get back to the rigmarole of college and hostel life. I heard that mom did get her way much to my delight. I regretted not being there to witness the balding and the aftermath.

Summer Break, 4 months later..

Central Station. I was apprehensively searching for a familiar face, my forehead and nose pressed against the grimy window bars of the train. Crowds of scurrying people, kids being dragged, smiles and hugs, sea of red coolies, smell of idli-vada. I got hungry; the thought of mom’s cooking warmed my senses even more. Just then, a coolie picked up my luggage and started running out of the compartment.

Sped after him and jumped to the platform. He started to haggle. "30 rupees madam".

"No baba I don’t want a coolie", I tried to explain.

Ok ma, 27 rupees, not a paisa less!

"What the heck. My brother is coming to pick me up; I do not need you Mr. Coolie"

"Fine! 26 ruppes. Special rate only for you!" He furiously yanks the red towel from his shoulder, rolls it and places it on his head. Seats my bag on that cushion before I could protest further.

Jeez! Guess he can’t understand Tamil though he speaks it. I tried French. "Parle Français? S'il vous plaît m'excuser."

It worked. He dropped my bags and walked away scratching his head.

Looked around for my dumb brother. I bet he decided to leave me stranded to repay me for some old altercation. Wait till I get home and tell dad.

On top of it, there was this specimen of a guy who was looking at my direction and approaching me. Really tall and lanky, an earring, the weirdest looking hairstyle one could imagine (like crop circles in a paddy field, he had saved some designs onto his head), yellow netted baniyan and a red bandana around his neck.

Disgustingly Gross!!! What has Madras come to? These rowdies are getting worse by the day!

I tried to ignore him, slowly glancing back in that direction after 5 seconds. Good gracious! Now he is waving at me and grinning. I turned around to look if there was a potential wave receiver. Yikes! It was me!!

Alpha run!!

I picked my heavy bags and tried to walk out of the station as quickly as I could cursing my brother for not making it.

"Alpha! Alpha!"

OMG! The Creep knows my name- such a sick voice too!!

Before I could scream for help, he jumped in front of me, tapped my head and started hurling familiar abuses. I then came to realize that this weirdo was my brother- Beta! Aaaargghh!

Collected myself though it was hard. From the last time I saw Beta- he had shot up a few inches, sprung a scanty growth on his upper lip, broke his voice apart from this absurd hairstyle and clothes.

"So this is your new look uh? I bet the girls dig it." I asked sarcastically.

"Yup! Groovy na! Mom can’t say a thing! Remember? I walk around the neighborhood like this. Mom says she needs a disguise to step out of the house. Hehe!"

I can only imagine. On my insistence we took separate autos home.


Monday, September 29, 2003 | Comments (16) |

Family Snipp-its (Part I)

The curtain opens in the past, some years ago. My family is seated at the dinner table- Beta- teenage younger brother; Gamma- mom; Kappa- dad.

Beta: Give me a break Ma! You promised MY precious hair as an offering, if your prayers were answered!!!? What does that mean?

Gamma: Oh God! You shouldn’t talk like that. I only prayed because of you. You had fever. You were suffering. *glazed eyes*.

Beta: Maa! It was a simple fever. Even so, its you who prayed. You are welcome to shave your head off. Sorry, I’m NOT doing that! Plus I am not extremely excited about that hairstyle. Think about my reputation in school.

Me: This could actually help your looks, you know!

Beta: Will someone tell Alpha to shut up! Better still, get her married off!!

Gamma: *tearing now* what ungrateful children I have. Nobody cares about my feelings. HE will punish us, our family. All my prayers…*sob sob*

Kappa: Hearing commotion and taking a break from his train of thoughts involving office. Yeah, what was that again?

Accesses the situation quickly

Oh ho! Not that hair topic again. Please people, move on. Leave him alone, Gamma!

Wrong choice of words. More tears from mom. Dad quickly recovers and salvages the situation.

No No, Beta. Don’t talk like that to your mom. She has your best interests in mind.

quotes a Sanskrit shloka about moms and respect

The hair will grow back. Ask Alpha! *laughs mockingly*

Next month it is. You will go to Thirupathi and get your hair shaved off. And I don’t want to hear any more regarding this issue!!

goes back to thinking about his project deadlines

Gamma: Not Thirupathi ..Guruvayur…Aiyoo! Now you said Thirupathi..We might have to do that one too…incase Lord Venkateswara gets angry!

Beta: WHAT??? This is insane! Papaaa! She didn’t even consult me before having this deal with God.

Puts up a brave fight. Doesn’t work against the united forces. Beta finally succumbs. BUT, he has some conditions.

"You will not object to any hairstyle after I have shaved my head off."

Gamma: *wiping away tears and beaming* Sure my Beta! Do whatever you want after that.

Kappa: *Burrrp*

Gamma thinks she won the battle. But, did she? Does Beta get his revenge? Find out in the next post.

To be continued……


Sunday, September 28, 2003 | Comments (15) |

For a 5 year old...

For a 5 year old, I was very ambitious. Wanted the same kinda fringe Kay had. How some of her hair covers her forehead and makes her look so cute. Wanted the same damn thing. Told mom, she would hear none of it. So when they had left me alone at home to go shopping, I brought a chunk of hair to the front of my face and cut it. Chopity chop!

For a 5 year old, I had pretty good skill-set with the scissors (maybe my future career). Loved the new hair cut, flaunted around the mirror for half an hour. Was so proud of myself. All the first graders would love it, but somehow I didn’t think my mom would.

For a 5 year old, I was quite an obedient parent fearing child. Something had to be done before they came home. Had to get rid of this fringe before she got rid of me. I had enough hair in the back, what could go wrong. She’ll never know. Hehehe *a snicker at the thought of a dumb mom*. I, being very good with the scissors now, cut the whole thing (little by little) till I thought I had gotten rid of it.

For a 5 year old, I had the brains of a jackass. Now there was a huge patch of really short stubbly hair at the front & long hair at the back.. like a south Indian temple priest.

Rest is history! I had to sport the sexy Vin Diesel look for a while…which felt like eternity!


Thursday, September 25, 2003 | Comments (24) |

Ouch!

My friend who is a nurse at a local hospital shares this amazing story. This man comes to see the doctor. He won’t sit down, was quite uncomfortable even standing up. On further investigation, it was discovered that he had a Barbie doll shoved up his ..er.. ass!!! Now poor Barbie wasn’t in a position to come out, even if she desperately wanted to. Her hands were stuck inside the hallowed portals.


Wednesday, September 24, 2003 | Comments (21) |

Poor Latha Kamath

Latha Kamath was my classmate in school. Her dad owned a clothes store. No ordinary store this. This was the only ready-made clothes store in our village. Headless mannequins wearing colorful salwar suits, transparent dupattas neatly pinned to them forming a V at the front. From the ceiling hung more dresses, lacy & frilly. Inside a glass case, were plastic busts donned with bras. Sarees were tied to each other and decoratively dangled from the board up front which said "Kamath’s Garment Center" in big bold green letters.

We never bought any clothes from Kamath uncle. Our weekly 'city' trips would take care of our outfit purchases. I guess we didn’t think much of the little store. One day my mom decided to take me to Kamath uncle’s store to get me a bra! Don’t know why in the world she couldn’t wait to get to the city. After an arguement, I was dragged much to my chagrin & embarrassment. I didn’t want anyone knowing about this, especially the Kamath family.

Kamath uncle beams on seeing us enter the store.

"Hello Hello Madam! Come in, come in!"

This was my first experience in buying bras. My mom always took care of that awkward detail for me. I never had to be present…until this fateful day!

I have to tell you here that Kamath uncle has no assistants. No friggin lady assistants with whom you can confide your darkest secrets.

Pretty unfazed, my mom gets to the point and asks for the garment in question- "size-ab-c, please." (Admirable! She is used to this I guess).

Kamath uncle doesn’t waste any time," No Madam, I am sure you are not ab-c. You are bigger. You must be ef-g. I have the right one for you. Here." He pulls out a bunch of ef-g.

Yikes! Was I hearing this right? This man checked out my mom???!!!..and he is admitting it too!!?

Oh well, the torture doesn’t end there. My mom doesn’t pull me by the arm and drag me out of the store indignantly. She had the audacity (is what I called it then) to say that its for me and not for her.

I shriveled to the bottom-most shelf. Good Lord, take me! Don’t leave me to suffer like this!

Now he doesn’t just give the bloody ab-c. He has to check me out too!

"Oh sure sure! ab-c will be right. My Latha wears gh-i."

I was mortified! That does it!!!! None of us are ever coming here again! This guy takes his job too seriously.

I couldn’t wait for school the next day. I had to report this incident (later found it amusing) about Latha’s dad to all my girl friends. Every single one had undergone uncle Kamath’s scrutiny!


Monday, September 22, 2003 | Comments (27) |

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