On May Day today, Confounded-Lady turns one.
The last one year has been a whole lot of fun
But there's a LOT more where this came from (Mayday indeed :P )
Dum-di-dum dum, Dum-di-dum dum.
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
Wolfkid and Preets had tagged me like a gazillion years ago.
I think I slept through all that time..and its just dawned on me that these tag posts seem to be so so 'in' these days...and that I'd better be 'it' before I'm 'out'.
You didnt get 'that' did you?
No probs, neither did I.
I am now konjum romba senti today as I've been listening to Pibarae rAma rasam in rAg Ahir Bhairavi the whole day. This song has it in it to make you all silent, reminiscent, mushy..and perhaps bit more 'blue' if you miss someone you really..well, miss.
Its really a must listen.
If you're (still) interested in listening to this song after the 'yellow' description I've given you, don't hesitate to dial toll free: I-WANT-TO-BE-BLUE(er)-AND-MISS-MY-GIRLFRIEND
Kidding, mail me..I'll send it to you with pleasure. (This should be interesting)
OK- you might want to give it a try even though you pretend you don't miss xg.
Enough awready. Tag. Yes.
1. Last movie you saw in a theater?
...Laga Chunari Mein Daag.
And I liked it. hmph.
2. What book are you reading?
The Mahabharatha by Rajaji. Started it at least 5 times within these 3 years.
I'm finishing it else I'm...well, I'm finishing it.
3. Favorite board game?
Scrabble. I used to make words up and try and win when I was a kid. No its not cheating *straight face*
'Zittle' was the adjective used for small/baby animals according to Yours Pretentiously when she was 7 years old :P
4. Favorite magazine?
India Today.
5. Favorite smells?
SambarANi on washed hair :)
6. Favorite sounds?
My mom yelling my name :D
7. Worst feeling in the world?
Regret having said something..or even worse, having not said something to someone.
8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up?
Christ..have I overslept.
9. Favorite fast food place?
TCS Chaat counter, Velacheri Madras. But not without the gang. *sigh!*
10. Future child’s name?
I am so not telling you. Don't want anyone to steal my lil Emma :D
11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….?"
I'd spend it all on charity and World Peace.
Crown please?
12. Do you drive fast?
Depends on what fast is for you. No, really.
13. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal?
Nope. Simple.
14. Storms - cool or scary?
Sexy
15. What was your first car?
Car a? Naana? Yeah right.
16. Favorite drink?
Orange Juice
17. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”?
..become a doctor.
Confounded, yeah yeah,
18. Do you eat the stems on broccoli?
I don't eat broccoli.
19. If you could dye your hair any color, what would be your choice?
I'm fine with the way it is thank you very much.
20. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in?
Madras and Bahrain.
21. Favorite sports to watch?
I cannot watch cricket even if it were the last thing to be screened before the end of the world. I'm fine with anything else.
22. One nice thing about the person who sent this to you?
Preets-I've known her ever since I was old enough to say Peepee and Dolly. She's family. I love family.
Wolfkid- Hey, thambee. You're okay kid :)
23. What’s under your bed?
A lot of ..space..? :-/
24. Would you like to be born as yourself again?
Tosh! I'm not being born again in this pot-hole....I'm getting moksha. Oh yeah!
25. Morning person, or night owl?
Depends :D
26. Over easy, or sunny side up?
What was that again please...?
27. Favorite place to relax?
Home and 'Home' :D
28. Favorite pie?
Apple from McDonalds.
29. Favorite ice cream flavor?
Pista.
30. Of all the people you tagged this to, who’s most likely to respond:
I think I'm the last one to do this tag in my circuit. That should answer your koshchin.
I dedicate the space occupied by this post along with all the mirth I was most likely to have experienced doing this, to the taggers. BEE happy, always.
And the rest of you non-taggers....well, you BEE happy too, with a lot of yellow and orange (and a bit of black too) in your lives.
Till then, let the all pervading confoundedness lead your way from darkness to light.
Om Shanthi Shanthi Shanthi:
CL
Ok, lets see..
1. Got up quite early this morning -before my dad actually (which is inhumanly early) and almost killed him with the heart-attack he got, on seeing me roam about the house in the wee hours of the morning.
*2 Aapee points (I think)
2.Told amma I'll take care of 'all' the cooking 'today' while she can rest for the whole day.
She wasn't particularly amused.
See thats why Ekadasis are extra special.
*1 Aapee point (*smug look*)
3. Banged my toe against the same door I banged it against the day before.
"Ooooowwwwch" doesn't seem to be strong enough a word.
*2 Not-so-Aapee points
4. Made call to India and spoke to friend for 30 minutes. Me the happy. >:D<
*2 Aapee points
5. Realised that I do have some matter to blog on after all, but am too lazy to blog.
Shame shame Confounded-Dame.
*3 Not-so-Aapee points
6. Learnt a new song in rAgam ShadvidamArgini. She has such a beautiful scale..and *such* a beautiful name.
Me the sooper happy.
*3 Aapee points
7. Almost deleted mail from Mr.Fiance thinking it was spam :O
Note to self: Must get used to important mails in mailbox for a change
*5 Not-so-Aapee points
So that leaves me with.... Net 2 Not-so-Aapee points today :O
*colon-pipe*
Think I should blog more often and not bang my toe against the door over two days consecutively.
Or..perhaps make more ISD calls to buds in India and petrify my dad more frequently in the mornings? :-/
I don't know. You do the math.
I'll do the honours.
:D
Confounded-lady is back!!
Thunder, lightening, creepy-music and 'bwahahahaha'.
(That was evil-laughter just in case you bothered to read that)
Not that anyone missed me (if you did, for the record, I love you), but contrary to the normal alibis I see these days for not being able to blog; say for instance, lack of time (which is not even remotely my problem these days. grr), not getting the right flow of thought (whatever thats supposed to mean) and the like, I actually did have plenty of intellectually stimulating topics I wanted enlighten my readers on but was in a dilemma as to which one to discuss. No, really..
*straight face*
Ok, I hear you. You can stop laughing now lest you fall of your chair. I'm already being accused of trying to impair every one's vision with the bright shades of my blog. I don't wish to do you any (more) harm.
So enough already.
I thus commence .
I've been tagged by fellow bloggers Busy-writer and Preets.
According to OK's Law of Crapping, Engineers cut to the chace without much useless banter. Under normal circumstances this would be konjum kashtam given the very purpose of this blog, but I seriously do wish to abide by this rule considering that this may tragically be the only testimony to me having endured 4 educative years of Engineering.
The question for us engineers is after all, to BE or not to BE, no?
No??
hmph. I'll just shut-up and get along with the Tag then. :P
Some 10 random points about me which no one knows. I doubt if there are that many actually, so I'll do 6. Peace.
1. :-)
I'd like to think that my obsession over smileys is unparalleled. I very rarely type stuff on the Internet without a smiley at the end. Smileys make me happy. Well, so does chocolate but you don't care do you.
Yahoo! is a beautiful experience altogether. I'm forever in love with Colon-dee, the way it blinks its eyes. :D :P >:D< ;;) these are my favourite smileys, in the same order.
2. My Impeccable Memory
My memory can be bench-marked with Gajini (of Gajjini fame) and you'll find that I indeed am endowed with depressingly pathetic memory skills. I forget names. I forget birthdays. I forget rAgas. I sometimes forget what I was going to enter next while chatting (someone might know what I mean :D )
I personally think its because I think a lot, rapidly. My thought process is very fast and I end up thinking a trillion things within a short span, so there is perhaps just too many to recollect.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
Is there anything healthy about a bad memory?
3. Growing up and being paranoid
I just refuse to accept that I'm growing up. I find it terribly agonizing you know. I'd like to stay young forever, 22 would be ideal. These days I find a lot of people calling me akka. Kids in the tempe call me aunty. grr_max. Everyone grows old up, I know.. but I still yearn for for Neverland. :
4. I was called Swetha once upon a time.
Actually, I was called 'sweater' in school. Not that I minded much.
Mommy-dearest gets a brainwave one fine morning in 1990 and decides that I should be called 'Jennifer Lopez' from then on (name changed to protect identity). The rest like they say, is mystery.
5. I leave the house with the I-don't-give-a-damn look.
It really pains my mother so to say. And offlate my 15 year old fashion-queen cousin who happens to live in the same building as me. Divya (name NOT changed to protect identity) was visibly appalled by the orange butterfly clip I wore to her party at Caesar's'. Poor thing. I don't blame her though. I too sometimes think that orange and black just don't go together. :P
6. I am that Bulb-Goddess you always feared .
I don't think this will be a major surprise to people who know me well. I just don't get things instantly-whether they're jokes, witty comments whatever. Even a fast conversation leaves me twiddling my thumb.
Once when I was on a bulbing-high, someone asked if I was feighning my confused state. :P
I said yes and changed the topic. That still cracks me up. :P
I am konjum slow and trust me, I'm not at all proud of it. :
7. I am skeptical of the Internet. Period.
When it comes to making friends or developing a good relationship, I am wary of the Internet. I think the Internet is the most precarious medium and cannot/should not be banked upon. There have been quite a few exceptions off late, but I think they are too good to be true.
The probability of a misunderstanding or baseless assumption is maximum on communication over the Internet. I will perhaps blog more on this. Or maybe, I won't.
There. I could rattle my head and come up with a few more..but I have a feeling I might have lost you somewhere in point#4 itself. So this should very well do for now.
Hope I'd done you girls proud. This space is dedicated to you .
I tag anyone who's facing a writer's block currently.
Take care, and say hi to your mom for me :D
Yours confoun'deadly',
Me.
Geographic coordinates: 26 00 N, 50 33 E
Location: Middle East, archipelago in the Persian Gulf, east of Saudi Arabia
Climate: arid; mild, pleasant winters; very hot, humid summers
This place used to be Home for me. It still is..in some sense.
Ah, it feels great to be back Home. It certainly does.
Yet...I have a feeling that I still miss 'Home'.
I miss 'Home'.
Do you like...get me?
Author's Note:
This post is long. Quite long. But please don't stop reading in the middle .
And oh yes, any resemblance to real life characters is merely purely PURELY coincidental. Really.
*****************************************
She wasn't late for work. She never was.
But that never stopped her from speeding down Kasthoori Ranga road which was her favourite road in Madras solely because of the speed at which she could drive her Blue-Scooty. The luscious greenery on both sides, the conspicuous absence of gargantuan lorries and the tireless stretch of smooth cement for as far as the eye can see, was more than just an enticing reason to adopt that route to work. Driving and speeding had never been this peaceful before.
She knew the route to work like the back of her hand. Well everybody who took the same route to work did, but she'd known the nature and the soul of that area so well that she subconsciously knew all the spots at which she had to slow down or speed. And it worked each 'n everytime, everyday. She was the master of that route, she knew.
Her mind was the busiest during this time. She would hum a different tune every 30 seconds, try an aalaap for an exotic rAga for the next 120 seconds, think of a friend she'd recently gotten to know and like, reminisce over good times with old friends, try memorizing a DIshitr krithi, wonder what her dad would be doing at this time at home- such a multifaceted array of thoughts, however, never once concentrating on the road and its traffic.
She prided herself for that, for being able to maneuver her vehicle down even the toughest roads of Madras, with such admirable ease and agilance.
That too inspite of her her rash driving.
'Touch wood' is what she'd smile and say when people gasped at her abominable speed on the roads, and she'd immediately lift her right hand and touch her head.
Today was no different. The rAga on her lips today, was vArAmu. Such an enchanting rAgA would have customarily made her close her eyes and surrender but she was after all, driving. She sang, neverthelss, as loud as possible, knowing that at 07:30 AM there would be no one on the roads to turn around and give her the 'huh-what-the..' look.
Half way through Kasthoori Ranga road now, there was still a long way to go. She brought herself to see the road in front of her and register . But for a sinfully beautiful Black Skoda far in front of her Blue Scooty, it was just her vehicle on the road. Just as always.
Lovely.
But all of a sudden the Black Skoda in front of her, came to a halt. A sudden stop.
Ok, this was too sudden. Too unexpected.
Why did the car stop?? Why did it friggin stop??
There wasn't any signal in front..not for miles, and there wasn't any vehicle in front of it either... and what were the chances of an old blind-deaf-dumb lady crossing a usually-desolated road at 7:30 AM in the morning??? Zilch??
Crap..She now had to stop her Scooty. And fast. And how!
Thoughts rushed through her mind as she quickly scrambled for the brakes.
As she was fast approaching it, she had a look at the Car. It was far too shiny and far too beautiful be crashed against. She tried to maneuver her vehicle to the right without skidding and managed to pull the brakes in time, probably saving her from being thrown head over the Skoda-however not without a significant crash at the Car's posterior and a terrible fall.
The next few minutes were a dream. She lay there on the road, with the Blue-Scooty on top of her. Motionless....
(To be continued..)
(...contd.)
Startled by the sudden jolt at the back, 3 men came out of their Car.
She waited for help as she lay sprawled on the ground with the Scooty's weight on top of her, but the 3 men just stood still. She knew better than to ask for help, so she pulled out her left arm from somewhere underneath and pushed the Scooty's weight off her body and got up on her own.
She felt thorroughly numb.
The three men stood majectically staring at her. She took a look at the men with the very little strength she had. One of them was in his early thirties -perhaps a newly wed? Like she cared anyway. The second one was not more than 22. Smart. He looked like one of those college studs who'd bunk class to get his hair bleached or his butt tattooed.
The third fella was the Car's driver clad in white. One happy family. How nice, she thought sarcastically.
"Well?" said the mid-thirties gentleman. " Now that you're up and running, lets see what you've done to my car".
She suddenly felt dizzy.
She was now visibly petrified, as she watched the man move to the back of the car..fervently hunting for a dent or a scratch, while the other Young-Lad stood there staring at her- from head to toe. She immediately felt a wave of nausea run through her. She'd have normally stared back at him with her award-winning mean eyes, but she was far too much in a state of shock now.
She just stood still, waiting for someone or something to rescue her.
There was nothing there, at the back of the car. Nothing. No scar. Not even a mark. No wonder these cars were bloody expensive, she thought. Despite having a Two-wheeler crash against it, there was absolutely sign of damage on that automobile. Neat, she thought. She thanked her stars silently and felt like crying immediately.
The man lifted is head and spoke.
"I think you've escaped this time. You're a lucky girl", he said nonchalantly. "For the money I've paid, this Car is starting to make me feel good afterall".
He laughed out loud at his own joke.
She stood still. Speechless. She still couldn't imagine how 3 fully grown men could be so callous and indifferent towards a lady who's just survived a fatal fall. That too when the Car had got away scot-free. She suddenly wished that the Car has been smashed to smithereens. But this itself was getting her into hot water. Boiling hot water that too.
Just when she was starting to feel relieved she heard a second voice.
"Wait, not so fast "
It was the College-guy this time. "Let me have a proper look, Kiran. I'm sure there's a dent-somewhere. We heard the crash na? " and he went about his turn, hunting fervently for signs of damage.
She gazed at the all pervading apathy the prevailed there. Signs of petrification vanished. She was now starting to feel the indignation brewing inside her. But she stood still and said nothing.
"Ah, there..see? I told you, Kiran. There's a scratch. Here" said College-Boy pointing at something that couldn't even be seen by the naked-eye.
Kiran came running down to see the scratch he'd failed to see earlier. Both of them took their time analysing a frailfully grey mark that looked like a strand from granny's head.
The driver meanwhile, came up to her and asked her if she was alright and got her Scooty up from the ground. She thanked him with a half-wide smile.
"But that scratch was there from before no, Nikhil?" said Kiran, sounding a bit confused.
" No no no....now only. This female has crashed against your Car and caused this scratch. Ok, so how do we settle this now?"
It was clearly evident. Nikhil was pure evil.
"Nikhil, I don't think we should complicate things. Police, insurance... no yaar. Its just a scratch yaar. Leave it"
That was Kiran. God bless the very Devil, she thought.
"Arrey...what are you saying? You payed 13 lakhs to get your Car damaged by some crazy female? Well, I'm not gonna let you"
This was the last straw. And she now spoke.
" Excuse me Mister", she said politely. She instantly regretted addressing the vagabond as 'Mister'. Probably nitwit would have sufficed.
"There is 'absolutely' no damage on your Car from this accident, except for the scars all over my body. Your Car is just the way is was before my Scooty crashed against it. There. Your brother Kiran said so himself. Have a proper look again if you want. Your Car is fine. Really."
Kiran stood silent.
" Shut up female. I wasn't even f***ing talking to you", snorted Nikhil.
Ok, this was too much. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was foul language. That too thrown at her. She now began to scream like a mad woman.
" Mister, mind your language. Don't you DARE use that tone with me. Do you understand? Don't you DARE!"
She was now yelling at the top of her voice. And trembling.
"Oh yeah? Well, I WILL. What will you f***ing do about it?" Nikhil had a cynnical smile on his face. Yes, he was the Devil himself.
She looked at the Kiran and the driver with sheer disgust. They were both very clearly ashamed of the young-lad's behaviour. But both stood motionless. Cowards. She stood there for a while. And then spoke.
" I'll tell you what I'll do about it" she said, suddenly.
And saying thus, she swiftly walked towards her Scooty, kick-started it, and within a 6 seconds time-span , off she sped, away in the direction of Kasthoori Ranga Road leading to Cathedral Main Road, leaving the 3 mean gaping from behind.
She sped like crazy for the next 10 minutes, with a smile on her face. She was right.
There was absolutely NOTHING they could do about it.
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 ?
Ok..so how different is my life now anyway?
Not very, really.
Except for the 'Neeya??!!? Kalyanam aa?? Bwahahahahaha ' reaction I seem to be receiving from my friends time and again (@friends :P), everything is peach normal.
Lets see now. Recent excitement contributed by mad mad shop-hopping which has made me all the more gleeful and happy. Nothing like seeing money float in the air (a bit creepy when its your money though). But you know, I never thought that shopping could leave me so pooped at the end of the day that I was too tired to even life my feet off the ground….To lie down of course (what were you thinking?)
A few interesting lessons shopping with family has taught me.
1. Enlightenment #1.
Sarees look gorgeous in shops. Gorgeous with a capital Gee. They're meant to.
But it's a different thing 'looking' gorgeous in them. When you're 153 centimetres short tall, a saree around you sometimes looks like a quilt wrapped around a pencil, or an eraser for that matter. Sad I know. But my family members are always supportive and diplomatic. And I go ahead with buying the most gorgeous ones in the shop anyway without the slightest bit of remorse.
2. Enlightenment #2.
My addiction to pink is a potential embarrassment to family. Being lured towards all the pinks in the saree section, ok understandable. But constantly groping the pink shirts in the men's section??
You think I have a problem??
Yeah, join the club. I need help. And how!
Ideas perhaps, anyone?
3. Enlightenment #3
Must confront conflicting choices regarding breathtaking colours in saree shop.
Not a wise move to ask person-at-saree-section 'Inda saree nannarikuma, ilati iduva?'
(Translate: This one will look nice..or this one?)
He will say, 'Rendumae edthukonga, wonga colour-ku wo-ho-nnum irikum'
(Translate: Take both ma, they both suit your complextion'
Yeah right, like we're gonna fall for that one. Ha! *conceited smirk*
I'm sure we can choose between Jyothika-Pinks and MS (MSubhalakshmi)- Blues on our own thank you very much.
Right, so where does all this leave me now?
Well, I'm still tired. And hungry. And yes, a bit tired too (wait did I mention that already?)
Ok, before you think I'm drunk too, I'm gonna make a dignified exit, lift my legs with both my hands, lie down on bed and crash.
I do, after all, deserve tonight's sleep don't I?
:D
Yours shopping-ly,
Confounded-Lady
Foot-note: Oh btw, we ended up taking both the above mentioned colours at the end of the day. Yes, these shop-keepers are a nasty influence on us gullible juntha. But what to do? Both colours were stunning. So much for complexion, flattery and all that jazz.
:D
There was once a girl I knew
Whose need for a make-over wantonly grew,
Till one day she thought,
A parlour, why not?
A few hundreds would help her look anew.
So off she skipped to the place,
On fixing an appointment just in case.
It felt rather strange,
That she needed a change
From the old look she strived to erase.
Slowly as the hours passed,
She waited anxiously to compare and contrast.
But to her utmost dismay,
The makeover they'd conveyed,
Seemed to be horribly-terribly miscast.
Despite all the flattery there,
She said to them fare and square.
That the work they'd done,
Looked like a prank for fun!
And that it would invite nothing but an embarassing glare.
Having said, she went back home,
Feeling so forlorn, enraged and glum.
Because the makeover she tried to see
Was just not meant to be,
But, she still wasn't rid of the syndrome.
A sudden idea by which she was inspired,
Gave her that makeover for which she'd perspired.
She spent all the time she could get,
After logging into the Internet,
To achieve what she really desired.
The Blog she'd treasured for long,
Looked like it could do with a new song.
So she removed all the green,
Threw in some yellow, black and some *bees,
After which her blog just seemed to look strong.
This was the Makeover she wanted all along!
And all of a sudden, nothing seemed so wrong.
So, here's to my make-over. The makeover of some sort.
So long! :)
*Bees doesn't rhyme with green the way Limericks would customarily be structured...but what the heck, sue me.
* Please see End-of-Post for Disclaimer
Its the moral duty of every Indian in this country to suddenly have an overwhelming sense of patriotism and pride when Independence Day or Republic Day is round the corner. Wouldn't you agree ? Can't really blame him though. After all, it isn't Independence Day everyday,is it?
I, just like the rest of the faithful population of this country, have never failed to feel specially patriotic on these two days. Suddenly thinking of our country's reach heritage, discussing topics of national importance in the living room while parents glare incredulously, watching Mera-BhArat-mahAn- movies on the telly and clapping at the end-scene, sporting the tri-colour flag on self (and fervently searching for it the very evening) ......yep, thats (y)our typical day of national pride.
Typical for me, till Republic Day this year.
This 26th, it dawned on me that patriotism in our country was just a farce. It was merely another reason to celebrate, to commemorate, to felicitate. At the end of the day, National-Day for the mass juntha and mass media was just celebration of the popular, commemoration of the powerful and felicitation of the glamorous.
National Awards, Felicitations, Indian-of-the-Year titles...all of them. I'm not condemning them(like someone would care a hoot if I did). Its just the spirit with which they're conducted, the people, the frivolity, the unserisouness.
A few points that really disturbed me the more I thought about them.
1. The Indian-of-the-Year Award given away by a popular-news-channel sounded like a major deal to me. You were after all, the 'Indian-of-the-year' if you were awarded this big chunk of metal and you probably did deserve it if you were chosen amongst thousands of people who have put the nation ahead of their personal lives and contributed to this country's well-being unconditionally. You were our example and we, the youth would look up to you.
But no. It wasn't about all that. Its never about all that.
What I don't understand is why every important political/national function in our country is made to look like a Cultural (read Filmfare) festival. Tell me, amidst dignitaries like Manmohan Singh and Dr. A P J Abdul Khalam (whom I think is God's gift to a country that doesn't appreciate a blessing when it sees one) , do we really need a Shilpa Shetty, a mother of Shilpa Shetty and a Karan Johar in the same hall ? When there are men/gods like Ratan Tata whose keep a promise of delivering the 1 lakh-rupee car only because a promise is a promise, do we need a Shah Rukh Khan or a Rajnikanth to bag an Indian-of-the-year award for some insignificant category?
Why is everything in our country about movies? Cant we honour our country and its men even once without the presence of the movie folks? Do they always have to be the star of the show? Cant we do without frivolity at least once?
Tragic.
2. Captain Harshan like the rest of our brave soldiers receives the Param Vir Chakra award this year. After he'd dead.
Call me dumb, but what was the point again? Who are we honouring by the way? Dead people? Dead soldiers? While actors and actresses get Padma-Shrees one after the other by singing tra-la-la, louder with each time, the country hesitates so much in honouring our soldiers while they live. Am I the only one failing to see some sense in this? If soldiers are appreciated for their heroism and bravery after they die, I'm sure the same rule can hold good for the rest of our country's population whom they guard and protect till their very last breadth. Lets all get awards after we die. Sounds like fun na?
Tragic. Very.
Right. I really don't think I have the right to say anything more considering that I'm a part of the majority of this nation that just criticizes but doesn't do anything about it. Criticize I shall 'cos I do have a point and this is my blog but I don't disagree that I'm culpable in some way or the other. Sometimes you have the urge to to something for the country, and that burning desire dies down without a trace the next second you confront your daily-problems.
But I'm sure all of us do ask ourselves the same question sometimes if not all the time. What can we really do for this nation?
What, pray, what?
************************************************************************************
*DISCLAIMER: The contents of this blog are purely my personal views. I don't impose my thoughts on anyone. Please don't scold me. :D
Excepting for senti-dialogues thrown at me unexpectedly and my mom's impeccable timing for an argument, there are a very few things in this planet that leave me flustered or make me succumb to inarticulate-fumblings during a conversation.
However, much to my dismay, I've recently come to realise that Yours Loquaciously isn't invincible after all (sob!) and is astonishingly incapable of handling certain critical questions posed at her wherein which she is forced to go parch on words.
Questions that leave me frightfully befuddled:
1. "Whats up? "
The worst one of them all. This one leaves me super-stumped without fail.
Try as I might, I just cannot think of a suitable reply for this question. Period.
All of its amusing varieties- the rhetoric version of 'whats up' or the cool-slurry 'ssup girlie', leave me equally tongue tied, wondering whether to give my cliched 'Oh..err..nothing really' reply or just a sheepish grin. Or do I really tell them whats up? Do they really want to know?
I don't know.
I really don't know.
*****************************************
2. "So...what else? "
Kitchens run out of butter, houses run out of soap (pardon my ingenious exmaples that scream pathetic all over). If a conversation runs out of topics to sustain its existence, its only decent to bail out.
'So..what else?' is NOT the ideal way to protract this conversation. Not with me.
This one SO puts me off that I just want to flee at that very instant, let alone rattle my head for a witty comeback.
*****************************************
3. "What plans for future?"
Invasion of Cambodia. Thats my future plan. Interested any further?
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
Dear Diary,
I'd promised to fill your pages up religiously as a part of last year's resolution, but since even the most serious of resolutions blew up royally on my face, I don't think I even owe you an explanation for this one. Nevertheless, I'm coming back to do the honours for the grand finale this year and today being the last day of the last month n all I'm certainly not giving you any promises on any regular entries for 08.
've been there. Done that.
I thought that my journey down friendship-lane would be over once I was out of college and that I'd have to confront things far more serious and significant than friends and frolic. But '07 proved to be just the opposite. It introduced to the craziest set of ppl at work and outside of it who made work worthwhile. For some reason I never thought I'd even smile after college, but I eventually ended up laughing my guts out everyday at work because of these people. I'm grateful, for Satsang.
I joined my first company and I quit it too. A lot to handle in one year huh?
'07 taught me that it was ok to accept defeat and ask for help shamelessly. Work does do things to your self-esteem especially when you're in the learning stage, but I learnt that it was ok to give in and ask for help. Especially when we accidentally screw up the Client's Mainframes.
For the far more interesting (and equally humiliating:P) details, contact Ravi.
I have grown a lot and I'm grateful. For maturity.
I realised that I was passionate about something so much, so badly that I was willing to quit the job I started to like. '07 taught me that life's not about taking the right decisions; its about being confident whatever your decision may be. I just hope '08 will help reinforce that point into my system. Its an inspiring thought but its a tough one to percolate. I'm grateful nevertheless. For hope and ambition.
My preconceived notions on Madras being the be-all and end all place was shattered when I went to Bombay and realised that there were after all, other places I had to see...had to visit and had to experience. I was wrong about Madras being the best place in the world. But I still want to live and die here for this is my home. Period. I'm grateful, for home.
I discovered a part of me that could write. I wont claim that I write sense... but yes, I do write. It really isnt much, but for the numerous blogs and fabulous bloggers it has introduced me to, I'm grateful.
I've always had more reasons than I should to NOT keep in touch with some friends I'd met over the year. I suck at keeping in touch with my loved ones, unfortunately. The lazy bum I am, I'm surprised people still talk to me these days without any resentment. But '07 introduced me to people who don't necessarily expect a call to call you back and talk to you. Its been a year and we're surprisingly still going strong - despite being scattered ALL over the country and despite my crappy disposition. I just hope they don't give up on me one fine day.
For them, I'm grateful.
Its a long post. For those of you who are still reading, I'm all the more grateful. :D
I'm just thinking now.. '07 was nothing, absolutely nothing I'd expected it to be and I just hope '08 is a far more splendrous one. I know it will be.
I wish all my readers a fabulous year ahead. This blog is nothing without them all (the very limited readers this blog entices but still :D). I wish them nothing less than the best....along with World-Peace and Social-Harmony of course.......*controlling tears of joy*
(Can I have that diamond-studded crown now please?)
:D
Listening to this for the zillionth time and feeling optimistic all over. Songs, I tell you. :P
Happy New Year folks!
Confounded-Lady
..I know...
Nevertheless, I had to post this to share the mirth.
I died laughing till the sides of my mouth hurt...
Coming from the family I come from, I grew up all this time without any disillusions of my marriage. I knew that mine would be the quintessential arranged marriage where my choice would predominantly be limited to the colour of my muhoortham-Saree's and designs on the front cover of my invitation card, and I've had absolutely no reservations whatsoever. My parents trust(ed) me for that, and I did too, more than them.
Of late however, I'm beginning to find the very institution of arranged marriages rather questionable. Despite growing up with the sense of security that parents do only whats 'best', I've suddenly started to wonder if thats just a chancy promise they 'hope' to live up to. After all, there are myriad things that are just not under their control.
Tell me, of all the dubious assumptions one makes during the entire process of an arranged marriage, can one afford to 'assume' the temprement or the sanity of the boy/girl? How can one afford to take that for granted?
There was this friend's friend of mine whom I knew...knew as in just plain acquaintances- as she was this major diva in our common circles, very popular, daring and talented while I was..well, lets just say that I was not your typical Hanna Montanah;)
She passed out of a ranking university and got into a top notch company. Last I heard is that she gets beaten up like crazy by her husband for no reason at all. Her's was an arranged marriage.
Case of assumed-stable temperments eh?
Its one thing to fall in love, get married, and then regret it. But its a totally different thing to marry the person your folks tell you to, and then regret it and feel trapped for the rest of your life. The thing is, you cant really blame yourself here, unlike the former case, or blame your parents as that would be truly unfair... So what do you blame? Who do you blame? What is the solution to incompatibility? Compromise?
Let me tell you, I'm not playing sides here with the trite love-marriage-aa-arranged-marriage-aa discussion. I'm beyond all that. Its just that for a person who'd had unadulterated faith in the system of arranged marriages, I'm rather disappointed that I have to start reconsidering its credibility.
Also, I've been thinking, did Adi Shankara really know what he was talking about when he quoted :
निजगृहात्तूर्णं विनिर्गम्यताम्
(Walk out of your home soon )
You know what? I'm thinking too much... God, where's that can of Ice-cream?
Beautiful
Something I'll remember when I get into those major 'cribbing' syndromes.
I'm beginning to like these tags; not because they call for a lot of introspection, retrospection or maybe even fill up the otherwise-empty space in my blog.
No wait, those actually are the reasons. :D
Face it, they're fun. Especially when these topics are as absurd as the one I'm doing right now thanks to fellow-blogger Lavs. Check her blog out, she'll make you laugh to splits. :D
The rules of the tag are:
1. The rules must be mentioned in the beginning of the tag.
2. You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had.
3. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
Awritey then.
For starters, I've never actually known what my middle name is. In fact, I never even knew I had one of the sort.
We the people ofTamil Nadu don't have a middle-name or a family name making us pretty much unlike the rest of the nation and we take ultimate pride in doing everything differently (read ostracizing ourselves from the rest of the nation for political reasons I do not wish to get into lest some MLA clad in white from a popular kakshee (read party) happens to bump into my blog and vanquish my family, but wait am I digressing? )
Right...middle-name-tag. I hear you. :D
I just discovered this morning from my mom that my middle name is 'Rukmini'.
Yeah yeah, you can laugh it out while I take a long walk around my house.
Done?
Right.Its my grandmother's name and I'm eternally grateful to my folks for not deciding to christen me by that name (I'm having enough trouble with my first name itself thank you very much)
Reminds me of a conversation between a pair from the-popular-sitcom where they discuss what to name their yet-to-be-born baby girl:
Ross: I like Ruth. What about Ruth?
Rachel: Oh, I'm sorry, are we having an 89-year-old? How about Dayton?
:)
R- for Red.
Dark red. I just love that shade. Thats what most of my wardrobe comprises of. Well, next to pink actually (please don't judge me :D) I've read that red as a colour for your clothes is rather provocative. Bull. I've been to places wearing red and even my mother wouldn't notice me. :P
So much for colour-psychology.
U- for Unique.
Thats what my 'first' name is. Rhymes with Rukmini. Hell lot more complicated than the same. There used to be a time when I'd curse my name for the complexities I had to endure because of it but now, I love it 'coz here is no other like it. No chance of having 2 me's in the same class, in the same college, or for that matter, in the same state itself. (;-P) .
I think this should say more.
K- for Karnatic Music.
My heart. My soul. I wish to do it proud, some day.
M- for Madras.
A place I spend half my time cursing and yet, defending till I run out of breath. A lot of my friends AND a lot of my relatives find some sense of queer pride in chiding this conservative metro for its weather, its people (whom I'm told are very 'unkind'. Yeah, I'll show you unkind ;-P), its narrow-outlook towards contemporary ways of life (read rock-concerts, pubs and discotheques or the lack of them) and most importantly, its haughty auto-men.
(Well with regard to the last point, I sort of agree that our auto-kaarans are a special species altogether and deserve special mention in a separate post itself).
But what about Madras, the cultural-haven?
The place where you can be confident that you're children would have gotten their share of both worlds if not just the ultra-traditional one. The proud host of December Music Season..
The home of India's much prided dance Bharathnatyam...The place where people are simple and don't judge you for not dressing up like Rani Mukherjee just to shop at a vegetable store nearby..
Evil-Doctor (ED) sticking evil- laser down poor-me 's throat:
ED: Say 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaa'
Me (mouth wide open): 'aaaeeee'
ED: Say 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaa'
Me (with more conviction but not quite): 'aaee'
ED: No, say 'aaaaaaaaaaaa'
Me(almost close to tears): 'aaee'
Am suddenly reminded of Henry Higgins from My Fair Lady where he'd eat Eliza Dolittle 's brains forcing her to get her 'ayyy' s and 'aaai's right. Frankly, am rather disturbed that I cant enunciate 'aaaa' with precision just like the doc has instructed me to, but with him pulling my toungue out and a nurse pulling the corners of my mouth side-ways for an endoscopy (dont picture that please), I realize that the only possible vowel that can be uttered at this point is 'ae'.
So, enough already.
ED(looking at TV which supposedly screens the insides of throat): Hmmm.. your vocal chords asdfasn sdfgdfg kasdfadsf gdfgdfgafg (something in medicine-language which I couldn't comprehend of course). Think you've over-strained them.
(Right..that should explain why I've been sounding like a frog for the last 1 week)
Worried-mommy: So....now what?
ED: Just have these for a week and get back. And oh yes, did I mention absolutely no talking for the next 5 days?
Me (aghast): What the...
Suddenly-not-so-worried-mommy: You mean she's not supposed to talk...at all?
Very ED: Yes, thats the minimum period she'll have rest to allow her throat to heal.
Me (touching mouth to see if its in place after agonizing session with evil-doc and evil-nurse): Can we go home now mommy?
So, now that I've been sentenced to a 5-day tenure of 'mounavrath', the only form of allowable communication is the scribe and paper. But if that means having to write every single word I wish to utter, I fancy just keeping my gob shut and not say anything at all...which is exactly what I'm doing now. (*sob*)
The house seems a lot quieter now and I'm sure the entire neighborhood must seem so too, considering all the yelling and debating my mom 'n I are depriving it of.
My dad keeps forgetting that I can't talk and whats worse is that he just doesn't seem to understand any of my sign-languages. I had to do a mini-dance show to convey that we had to get back to the Doc's after 5 days.
Like, I'd stick my hand out to convey 5 as in 5 days and he'd be like.. 'Stop? But what do you want me to stop?' :P
Oh well.
1 down.
4 more to go.
Sigh....
Sometimes 'sorry' seems to be the most difficult word to say.
Precariously egoistic. Yeah, I think so too.
Finally. The two movies are out.
I can now heave a sigh of relief and watch all the national chaos on the telly like good 'ol times.
Whether its Mamta Banerjee wailing her guts out in Nandigram or the lil kid with 8 limbs or good 'ol Sonia Gandhi reading out verbatim from her transliterated script...I really missed watching all the real news which was moreorless overshadowed with all the hue 'n cry over the Diwali releases 'Om Shanthi Om' and 'Saawariya'.
Seriously.
One more look at Shahruk's hand getting stuck to Deepika Padukone's pallu or Ranbir Kapoor prancing about the sets of Saawariya in his white towel which looks like its gonna fall off any second and I will solemnly swear never again to switch on the telly (news channels, get a life. Please.)
But wait a minute...whats that I hear you say..Its not yet over???
Movie review time???
Oh Dear.
A few things those 'How to' books didn't tell me...
I have that darned confounded look when...
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