The After-math, the Cook-book and Me

Retrospection on a profound level leads me to the conclusion that I was never really a home-girl.
I've always deplored the word house-wife, even the very way the term was coined 'h-o-u-s-e' 'w-i-f-e'. I mean, lets face it...what in heavens name did you wish you convey by the word house-wife? That you were a wife at home? Weren't you his wife outside the house? Eew.

Yeneways, kutti digress there.
As a kid who was perpetually hyper and restless (excepting for the times when I was asleep where I'd look like a mad- driver-woman on Prozac). I always had something to do solely because the very thought of being bored scared me out of my wits as I always associated 'boredom' to 'loneliness'. So, despite being the only kid to my parents which always saddened me..(still does to a certain extent which is why I resolve to get busy in the near future in order to prevent history from repeating itself :D) I made sure that I never banked on my house or my parents for solace...I'd explore the neighbouring streets on my bicycle, go out on walks on my own, make friends with the watchmen and gardeners in our locality.. whatever it took to get me out of the house, even if it meant knocking on random people's doors and asking them, ingratiatingly, if I could play with their kids if they had any.
It was sad you know, that parents sent their 6 year olds to Hindi tuition. I think I learned more Hindi chatting with the watchmen and gardeners.

With such a manipulated state of mind that made me believe that one had a life only if it were outside the house, I grew up sympathizing all women who were house-wives, including my very dear granny and Mom. I'd ask my Mom time and again in the kitchen how they did it... How could one not go out, know places, meet people, get paid, get bankrupt, get into fights, get out of fights (the last two clauses were offered in copious amounts in our house..living with me is no joke mind you) how could you just be busy at home?'
I mean...with with due respect to what all the woman folk go through to keep a family running hale and healthy, how could you work, at home?? Wouldn't these 4 walls drive you plain mad?'

My Mom would just smile and ask me to switch on the exhaust fan on my way out.

A home-maker's job is no joke, I'm told, although I never try to understand the gravity of that statement more so because I know that the home-maker is never really..'me'.
I cant disagree with the fact that all of us are here, healthy and successful (to a certain extent at least) only because some woman/women in the house chose to care and see if we had food on the table and in our boxes everyday.

So as I pack my suitcases to a whole new world at the other side of the globe with a chunk of my stuff comprising of shiny non-stick vessels and brand new cook-books (the cook-book saga..ah! This surely deserves a post dedicated to itself), I still wonder to myself if I can map a vessel to its utility or turn the pages of Tarla Dalal's Continental Food Book without falling asleep looking at the picture on the front cover itself.

My colleagues from work will surely have fun reading this. They know.

Mic please..

So I've tried and tried AND tried to put something up here for quite a while but in vain and all I can boast of, as for now, is a big fat drafts-section in which I can proudly proclaim that I've probably exhausted all the possible 'n+23' ways to start a fresh post. Its taken me THIS long to come back here and I don't quite intend on making this an I've-Not-Been-Blogging-oflate-Because.. post , considering that disappearing and re-disappearing is so much a part of Confounded-Lady's life.
Syaad I know.

Yenihoo, I finally post. Not that its post-worthy material, its a post.

So now that we're convinced that this IS a post and I can assume that you'd accept whatever I write here, I don't think I have to bother with the minute details of the various frivolities of life.

Like say, you wouldn't be interested in Confounded-Lady's daily confrontation with a 60 year old driving instructor who screams for his dear life when she crosses 25km/hr...would you?

Or perhaps...the humour she's s attempted to locate in sharing a house with a 16 year-old teenage NRI kid who's fashion sense would give Paris Hilton a run for her money (or another run to jail :P ) or even better, make Confounded-'ol-Lady look like an archaic work of art from the Medieval ages.
(I love you Divya/Dipsu-kutti anyways)...

.....Or how about being terrified of the newly hired servant-maid who constantly yells at CL for changing the place of the broomstick from behind the kitchen to..well, somewhere behind the kitchen where Maidy-dear couldn't bother to look till Confounded Lady saves the day...

I still think that watching 16 year old Dipsu-kutti get her hair coloured dark-red at Maha's is worth a separate post, 'cos I'm yet to get over the fact that my family heirloom does comprise of some twisted fashion-sense-DNAs after all and not just the traditional 9-gajam way of thinking. Goooooo Dipsu!

Ok..yayy, you've got me all excited. :D
So where do I start?

Mom, don't click that.

I've always been weary of my mom knowing her way around the Internet. Not that I had any problems with her snooping around my desktop or my folders which are an in-house for all those love-letters I got during my school and college days*, its just that I've always thought that the Internet was a pretty un-safe place for the likes of my mom who is perpetually intrigued by its nuances and hops from one site to another on a continual basis.

We've come a long way, my mom's love for the Internet and I. She was a fast learner right from the beginning, as in right from the day I taught her how to hold the mouse and convinced her that she wasn't going to get anywhere useful unless she looked at the monitor and not at her right hand on the mouse. Did I mention fast learner? Funny.
But yes she's evolved enormously. She now chats with my chithis and perimas using smileys 'n all with such enviable ease :O (albeit the typos *straight-face*)
Now that's my mom! You go gurl!! :D

However, whats irked me of late is a new friendship request she accepted, unintentionally. His name is Aneesh Gopee and I haven't the faintest idea how he chanced upon my Mom's Yahoo! ID that too when herYahoo! ID is predominantly known to maamis only, with an average age 56.5 (there you go, clean stats). I don't think I can fetch the right words to describe her contacts amongst the maami circle. The popular joke at home is 'Are you maami? Mylapore a?? Srinivasar Kovil a? Besh..Thats nice. What did you say your email ID was ?' :P

So coming back to the anonymous franseep request, considering that Aneesh is not maami and neither is he 55, I was starting to get really disturbed to see his ID in my mom's friend's list. When I asked my mom what on earth she was thinking when she accepted his request, I get a classic 'Therila di.....I was trying to close the window and get it done with, so I kept clicking on finish'.
Classic reply indeed :P

He's apparently seen my mom online today and asked her her age and whether she was a doctor or something. Talk about class pickup lines :P I was there with my mom when that message popped up.I don't remember the conversation following that cos I was extremely busy rolling over the floor laughing, but my mom happened to very neatly convince him that she was a doctor. She stopped typing after he started asking questions of course, but I've had my laughter quotient for today.
For this week actually.

I cant wait till she goes online tomorrow...or I could perhaps fill in for her?
Now there's a thought.

I don't know...Life's been the least bit boring of late.

* Last I heard that my mom visits this blog regularly. I was just kidding about the love-letters ma, you didn't have to faint for that. Please get up now... you still have to teach me how to make malai-kofta *colon-pipe*

My Not-so-secret affair with Typos

Geek and I recently came to a conclusion that there are 3 types of typos in this world.

1. The Typo-typo (TT)
2. The Word-typo (WT)
3. The Smiley-typo (ST)

I would have stopped with this customarily (yeah right) but since you're still in this page reading this...this.......and oh yes, this too............. I will elaborate with a few FAQs.

I) Typo-typo
1) err... sorry, but what is a Typo-typo?
Oh, simple. This one is the spelling typo, the quintessential typo everyone commits. The 'o' instead of the 'i', the 'e' instead of an 'r'... they're very very common in IM especially if you type sooper fast like me.

2) Ok...So?
So...your chat transcript would look like this:

Friend1: So how are you feeling these days? Recovering from that nasty allergy?
Me: No. I'm feeling very colon-pope these days
Friend1: (silent)
Me: Chs....I meant colon-pipe
(Silence....A few seconds later)
Me: Cha...I meant cha
(A moment later)
Friend1: Are you done? *straight face*

3) So how should I feel after committing a typo-typo?
Relax...its not like you've killed the US president (if you did, can we hire you?)
If I were you, I'd just ignore this typo and pretend like it never happened. No need to cover up with the 'cha', 'oops', '* 'n all.
Its a waste of time.

4) So what do I do, really?
Nothing, don't bother with anything. Your partner/friend/girlfriend/not-so-girlfriend/foe/boss(ouch) is going to figure out what you were trying to say anyway.
So chill.

5) Peace. Can we go ahead with the next typo then?
Yes we can.

II) Word-Typo (WT)
1) Word-typo va? What the hell is that?
This one is the most abominable of all typos.
Its when you type the wrong word instead of the one you were planning on typing. Its a very painful typo to endure..particularly when you're the one committing it. A few of these in your IM transcript, you can be instantly declared as the I'm-trying-to talk-Englees-but-its-blowing-up-royally-on-my-face king of the community.

2) Come on...how on earth would you type the wrong word while IM'ing?
Sometimes when you think really fast and your fingers try to compete with the speed of your thought process, you end up typing words that 'sound' like the ones that actually ought to be there. And as Murphy would have it (in some way or the other), the word you've put down will have absolutely no relation whatsoever with the one you intended on putting down.

3) Eh? Double Eh??
For instance you'd end up typing an 'after' instead of a 'have to' because these two happen to sound quite similar.

So instead of typing I 'have to' stop at Mylapore on my way there,
You'd end up typing I 'after' stop at Mylapore on my way there

Not very enjoyable I tell you.

3) Christ! Do people actually commit such typos? Do you ?
Do I?
God, that is all I do on IM these days.
I don't know how or why but of late my chat transcripts are full of WTs...is it probably because I'm thinking faster these days than usual?

See, this is one of the reasons why I'd rather not IM someone I wish to keep in good spirits. I prefer the telephone if I'm yet to impress you.

4) God! :O This sounds like a malicious typo. How does it feel?
If you instantly identify your WT, you'd sometimes not even feel like going back and correcting it for fear of answering the embarrassing question 'Huh...how on earth did you put that word there?'
However, its a totally different story if you don't identify the WT at all.
I'm at total shame when I think of the WTs I've committed and NOT identified till very recently..because of which I hesitate to go back and read some old enjoyable transcripts with some good friends.

This following instance is the most nefarious of the lot.
Note: The word 'you' is a WT instead of the word 'to'

KindFriend: We have these wonderful music sessions every weekend. You could join us if you want to :-)
Me: Oh wow...I'd love you
(few seconds pause)
KindFriend(terribly confused) : err..sure..whatever.

Not a pretty scene no?

5) Ouch, yes. I see what you mean, So what do I do to obviate such WTs? I'd like to keep my friends you know :P
Yes, yes, I understand perfectly... the only way out, is reading what you've typed and THEN pushing the Enter button.
I won't be doing that though. Too much of a waste of time. :P

6) Ok, and the last typo?

III) The Smiley-typo
1) Let me guess...its by putting the wrong smiley?
Well yes, you got it.
But its not too harmful or anything to your reputation. So you can just put the right smiley following the wrong one.

2) You *actually* make smiley-typos 'n all? Christ!
Its not my fault. *all defensive now*
Sometimes different IM clients use different character combinations for their smileys.
For instance, :-x is the angry smiley in Orkut.
While :-x is the 'falling in love smiley' in Yahoo!

3) *yawn*...so?
So, I wouldn't exactly be conveying what I wanted to in Yahoo! if I said:

Me: God, you're so infuriating I could throw my bookshelf on you
":-x"

4) Ah, I get the picture. So what do I do to not make a Smiley-typo?
Just remember which client your using. Simple.

5) Ok, thank you. That was indeed very enlightening. You're the best blogger in the world and I love you. Are you done?
Yes. I am done, thank you very much.
But sometimes its really worth committing a typo you know. Any typo.
Geek and I have laughed our guts out for hours looking at the typos we make.

Try it yourself.
The more preposterous the typo, the harder you laugh and the harder you fall off your chair

Happy typ(o)ing.
Till then, its Confoundud-baby saying 'wood-dye' to all of 'yoi'. :-x
:D

Talk to me no?

Rite, so whats up?
Nothing??

I'll tell you whats up. Off late, a lot of my friends from the Not-so-Fairer sex (pun intended like never before) have mysteriously disappeared and stopped talking to me. See, this is unfair. I'm just engaged you know. Not like I've been accused of murder or am down with small-pox or something. I can talk. Yes, to you. Very much.
So talk to me no?

Guys suddenly get this thing with committed ladies, I notice. They think they're infringing upon public property if they're still talking to an engaged/married girl. Sad na? Tsk-tsk.
Yes, I know, its every Reggie Mantle 's worst nightmare to get beaten up by Moose when all he's doing is having a friendly banter with Midge.... but seriously, Moose isn't so Moosey you know. So , whats with the disappearing act?
Talk to me no?

My girlfriends. I shouldn't go ahead with this post without their mention.
They have been extra sweet 'n all with me by still generously calling me up time and again to ask me if I'm making the whole thing up just to attract attention. See, that's what best friends are for. What would I do without you gurls? :P
There's another set of girlfriends that's not been talking to me off late as they feel that they'd be 'wasting my time' -as they put it- at this point.
"Huh" you say? Yeah, I say that too.
How would my gurlfriends be wasting my.... (sniff).. Oh crap, You've got me all teary now.
Screw you. I'm going shopping now. :P
But seriously, talk to me no?

See, if you'd just talk to me, I'd talk to you, and I could tell you how boring interesting my life is and you can tell me how interesting yours is. Exciting no? Just imagine all the fun we're depriving ourselves just because you're not talking to me.
Talk to me no?


Listen, I'm not as desperate as I sound.

No, really.

Ok, maybe a bit.

Actually a bit more...

Wait..can you repeat the question ?

Its a CAT's Life

Tell me you didn't know that the CAT results are out and I will look at you like you were the scum of the Earth. Not that I care a tad about CAT results (never cared for 'em even when I wrote them but wait, I didn't have to tell you that did I? ) ...its just that its 'implications' are so remarkably relevant.

You see, Oh-Patient-Reader-of-Blog, its a highly title based society we live in.
This ideal society is so full of camouflaged pretence that would even make British High Society look humble.
No really, I'm not being cynical about this, really, I've observed with due course of time, what examination-results do in this painstakingly pretentious society of ours.

One admit into the 'reputed institutes' and your image in society undergoes a total makeover. So, all of a sudden that weird freak you'd never noticed in college or that reserved teammate at work who'd never turn up for social gatherings, is now our long-lost hero, that close friend we never 'had the opportunity' to talk to but now desperately crave to socialise with.

hmm...am I making sense? Or is it just my head?
Never mind, lets just not answer that thank you very much.

You know, there was a time when I thought of doing a decent MBA, you know, accomplish something in life, make daddy proud of his li'l girl 'n all that jazz. Of course, that thought dissipated into thin air before I could even say Eye-Eye-Yum-Ay.

So now what am I doing ?
Well what do all Once-Upon-A-Time-CAT-Aspirants do best?
Tell our comrades to work hard the next time. Give CAT gyaan over GTALK and be their source of motivation. Tell them that if they can't do it, no one can and that you need to see that IIM glory you never saw, through them.
So, you see, when they actually do go somewhere and you...well..don't, you can at least tap their shoulders and say 'See, I told you. Now where's my candy?'

After all, like I always say, ' If you cant beat them... kick 'em.'

Here endeth thy lesson. Now, let the games begin.



PS: I'm just kidding Sahil/Bhaumik. I really do hope that you guys get into that insti in Ahemadabad.

:D