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Category: Humor

In the company of..

“Avasanam njanum unnikuttanum mathram aayi. Njan pinne avante koode maari oridathu irunnu.” (In the end, I was left alone with Unnikuttan. So, I went on with him to sit down at some corner.) My friend complained about her loneliness in a family trip to a relative’s place. The man of the house engaged her dad in a conversation, parallely as her mom was comforted by the woman of the house. The newly wed sister was given company by the husband. So my lonely whiny friend was left alone with Unikuttan, the cat of the house. The imagery of her description was utterly hilarious. But that doesn’t diminish the intensity of the emotion. Walking alone, and being left alone in a group are totally different things. The awkward fitting in is a miserable fate.

To be there always and to be stopped being cared for. To be replaced. I no longer call it people’s selfishness. Once I did. But now I know. People change. So do demands. Situations change. So do priorities. Life has always been a tiring hunt of the priorities. Ever changing and never lasting. For now I think from both the ends. To be ignored by someone and, to ignore someone. Both quite doesn’t seem easy. People still do both. Unfailingly. For that’s how life has taken people thru. Being there forever doesn’t count as much as being there when most wanted. I’s never the duration in time, but the depth in impact.

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English Vinglish!

Why do I do this? I so much dislike this practice of mine, where I use movie names as my blog titles! Why do I do this then? To increase the blog hit over search engine redirections? I don’t think I even knew of such a thing, until recently. May be it’s my simple liking for the movie? What about this particular one then? I’ve not seen ‘English Vinglish’! So may be, my affinity to movie titles may simply be as they somehow can be viewed associated to the actual things that happen around.

I am a Tamilian by birth. Brought up as a Malayali, often. Educated in English medium. Obviously, suggesting that I am pretty fluent in the three languages. Of course, there’s Hindi. And Sanskrit. And Kannada. Languages that I was exposed to, at various points of life, but could never gain enough fluency in. Language is just a medium to communicate. Conveying your thoughts to someone else, who might be interested, is the whole point. And the choice on the medium of communication,i.e. language, is often made based on the comfort levels of the involved parties, unless there’s a situational specification to it. But in the current scenario ‘here’, what we see is a totally stupid and twisted English drama! Like English is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to humanity! English is a good language. Awesome I must say, considering the ease of conveying intense emotions in simple words. Most of us would find it too much better and relieving to yell and shout at somebody in English, than in our own mothertongue. Coz it feels less intense and rude.You’d want to propose to someone in English, coz that takes away a good portion of the embarrassment. You’d want to dial up a Home Delivery service or go to a Customer Care Centre and talk in English, coz that’d keep the conversation shorter and crispier. And trust me, things get done easier and sooner, when you accentuate your tone!

But beyond all this, at some point all you wanna hear and cherish is your own language, in which you uttered your first words to the world. And definitely, from some people, you can’t even think of hearing any other tongue! That mishap was today! When someone screamed at the top of their voice, ”But is it lighting??”. For the record, that was a concern about the tube light. I didn’t want to laugh. It was not as funny as it was pitiful. Why do people put so much effort in mastering a language like it’s the end of the world! English Vinglish bina kya life! Indeed.

Shopping spree!

And finally, I too was set for it. With my kaalan kuda (I really dont know what that’s called in English. Help welcome!), walking ahead like the head of the family, that was my n-th trip for buying a bag for my impending looong journey. Walked all around tvm for a petty bag and still couldn’t make it upto buying one! It was a pleasure everytime. To go wander, on and on, with no particular goal in my mind. I was just walking and seeing new things, meeting new people. It was all good and comfy. I never minded not ‘buying’, though that’s what I primarily went around for. Today, however, ended up different.

So I was walking as the head of the family, leading my mom and sister. Of course with my kaalan kuda. (That’s the part I loved the most!) We walked in and out of shops. A bag. That’s all what we wanted. Obviously though, we had an eye on all the textiles on display too. The first shop we got into was a textile shop. Thought we could make a quick peep on the displays and walk out soon. But so much for my annoyance, there was nothing on display. A lady was all set to take out the ‘exact’ kinda dress we wanted, with colour and pattern specifications, out of the shelves and put them on display for us. I had an instant attitude problem with that lady. So much so that I flipped the plate and told my mom how I never wanted dress. I just wanted to get out of the place and get away from that lady before our eyes meet again. And we walked out. We, rather I, dropped the idea of textiles. Another couple of metres, and we reached where it seemed like we could dive in for what we needed (a bag!) in any direction and still resurface with it! First in row, we saw nothing like what ‘I’ wanted. But it was still difficult to get my family out of the place. I dragged them into the immediate next door and still found nothing. But I saw my mom bidding the fellow at the shop, with enquiries about if sundays would be working for them. And that she would like to come with her husband (my dad, yeah.) and confirm on what to choose. I liked his attitude when he said how wonderful it’d be that we better check out the bags on sundays then rather than waste theirs and our time! That was so direct that…! 😀 And the next shop was the best! Oh my god! I’d really recommend that guy for some marketing ‘awesomeness’ award. He was so flawless. But his bags weren’t. I’d have surely bought from him otherwise. He gave me a five min lecture on how trolley wheels are bad for air bags and how the inclination and the ease for pulling it around would never sync. I almost thought I was in my most dreaded Physics class learning the ‘FLE’ again. I patted him on his shoulder (in my mind) and congratulated him on his performance, if he could really see the grin that I hid in my occasional smiles. We walked out very politely, thanking him and letting him know that I STILL wanted a trolley coz I didn’t understand his Physics anyway! For the final lap, we decided on textiles coz we (read I) dropped plans about the bag. Giving it a start, I walked into the next immediate shop and got out in a jiffy. I ushered my mom to walk along and advocated her on financial management and value for money! And then she said it! ‘Unnoda appavoda kooda kadakku poka ivvalavu paadillai. Onnum vangavum cheyyama ippadi lo lo ennu alayalam.’ (Its not this difficult to shop with your dad. Dont buy a thing and walk around like a maniac.)

I beamed. Instantly. And my face glowed. With a misplaced yet unmatched pride.

P.S. I consciously left a lot of my sister’s comments. That’d sound more like boasting beyond anybody’s threshold. 😛 But one thing for sure is that, I’d not have been this happy had I got the thing I went shopping for. I’d have never beamed, with a bag in hand. Shopping is not all about buying.

Intoxication!

The just before sleep time. That’s an awesomely risky timing for communication with people. The beginning of disorientation. The twist in thoughts and world view. The guts to sing aloud. The will to ring up someone and proclaim the love. The desperation to slap someone with the ugly truth and punch them right on their face. The inch to confess all your live’s mistakes. The urge to talk someone into crazy stuff, and ending up in ridiculous states all by oneself. Think out the most impractical way to solve the most pressing issue in head. And later discover that the whole relief of solution before sleep was just so fake. The imagination to foresee a possible dream and wake up from the daze to shun the thought away. Everything just comes your way naturally. Everything just seems so practical to me. The height of intoxication, if you ask me. You feel drunk and high, and light enough to go to any heights of life, and yet land so smooth.

I’ve been through it. Multiple times. With multiple people. With multiple incidents. And everything turned so disasterous but I just never learn. I’ve managed more fiascos than what anyone can imagine, with my intoxicated communications. I blurt out stuff. I sing aloud. I abuse. I cry. I laugh. I just bring out the broken loose me, from the inside and create mess. The mess just turned out so risky as I have become so thoughtless and indiscreet with my words and thoughts. I ended up talking totally impossible stuff to a friend recently. I abused another with all my heart. I talked someone out of misery. And the last thing I did was something like, just rewind some important life events with my cousin. And guess what I got! (Or rather caught!) I caught her attempting to record my intoxicated ramblings! She was ‘just’ attempting, thank god! 😀 (below is an image of her stupid phone which got stuck as she tried to record my words. Even the phone couldn’t handle it. Lol.)

But then. I’m not yet planning to stop this. The night communication might be risky. But it feels genuine. The next morning, what I feel is not my exposed fragility. I feel good. Just plainly good that I was true and real. A genuine lightness settles down with it’s weight on my head. Most my blog posts are the just-before-sleep type. Now you know! 🙂

Foodominance!

There’s this mama and mami near my home. An old couple staying alone. Not coz they are childless. Their son married a woman of another caste. So did their daughter. The old man is ailing and the wife is not able to take care of him all by herself. But yet, the couple wouldn’t give up to the children. They are wounded and wouldn’t yield to any cajoling.

The other day, mami had come to our home. She was talking to my parents about how their kids have brought them shame and agony. She was saying, “Money or caste never matters. We have enough wealth. We’d have accepted the marriage. Except for how they wouldn’t give up non-veg food.” I couldn’t stop laughing at her statement and the emotion that she gave out through it. Should have appeared rude. But yet…food habits? Seriously? That ruins a family? Rotflmao.

I laughed and laughed. People say they eat to live. And I say we live to eat. Despite that, this level of dominance that food habits have on our society seems ridiculous to me. Personal likes and dislikes do exist; on food habits, as in any other segment of life. But then, I dont get that. Is the type of food more important than your own kids? From the other point, wouldn’t you stick to pure vegetarian food if that means you can be with your old parents? I really dont get that.

May be she lied. May be there’s the usual story of adamance and ego in not accepting the marriages. But may be, there’s some truth in what she said. Foodominance indeed!

Pizza phobia to mania!

Heard of such a thing? Pizza phobia? Well it does exist okay. Among socially conscious whiny wimps like me. The phobia involves fear of tearing apart the cheese with your teeth. Embarrassment, rather than fear. Fear of using cutlery due to lack of knowledge in table manners and art of eating. Fear of going thru the ‘all greek’ menu and finally make a sensible order for food! (the time isn’t far when the type of crust and size of the pan misled me.) Crust and size are never related to food for people of this kind. You cant blame the thoughts! And finally the fear of addiction. What if I actually liked it and want more and grow into an addiction? That’s the most genuine fear, atleast till the point you start buying your bread or find a boy friend with Sodexo food coupons!

Getting past all these fears listed, and the many more unlisted fears, is one heck of a task. You pray to the cheese to be intact. You beg the onion not to pop out of your mouth. You coax the crust to be just big enough for your mouth, so that you wont have to let others see the inside of your throat, pushing down the pizza. And most of all, you pray to the pan to stay warm and keep the pizza still tasty, coping with your slow motioned eating! When everything falls in place, when all your pleas and prayers are heard, finally, you’ll know it’s worth it. Truly worth the price. The majestic worth of royal food!

Here starts the truly ‘drive you nuts’ part. The mania! You brush pizza,(pee and poop knowingly avoided) you drink pizza, you think pizza, you write pizza, you talk pizza, you pizza pizza! Not enough pizza to eat! You wonder when’s the next pizza! Its just not enough!

Honestly, I love my transition. From phobia to mania. I never agree it was phobia though. Lol. But yeah, I confess it was. And now, the mania phase is awesome. It was just taking a break I suppose. Had a challenge or a bet or whatever you call it, with a friend, that I’ll no longer eat pizza until I start saving my bread. The rationale behind the bet was that the person asked me where all these pizza went into! Lol. That’s actually a genuine question. But one should be considerate enough to not ask questions, whose answers are buried under the earth, and never dug out! Shouldn’t they be? Lol. Anyway, coming back to the bet. I broke it. Had to. Unavoidable situation! As unavoidable as getting an offer to eat as much as you can! Lol.

Stepped into Pizza Hut, Gold Souk. The guy asks, “Hello ma’m! Would you like to *some voice missing*? “. I ask, “Pardon?”. He again, “Good evening! Ma’m, would you like to *some faint voice*?”. Me, “Eh?”. The guy, “Kazhikkanano vanne?”. Me to myself, “Shit! Evanum arinjo aa betine patti!”.

Appendix : The list of fears is never ending. Fear number next : Inaudible dumbhead all knowing pizza hut guys. (Or may be just the lack of a pair of hearing aids!). Back to the phobia! Lol.

The inside story

Was down with a fever and cough for a week. And that was such a wonderful timing that I missed five of my internal exams. Frankly, I was glad I’ve more time to study. But yeah, nothing of that sort happened and I screwed them up as usual. No big deal. The retests were postponed and dragged, long enough that I was itched to face them and get over them. But then, it’s the teachers’ mercy playing. And that’s such a rare commodity! Well, whatever. Glad that I’m finally done with it today. Almost. Yeah. Just almost. One more to go.

Well. This aint about my retests or academic crap. I was actually talking about the inside story. The plot and the dialogues inside a staff room. That was funny. Rather surprising. Teachers are
unpredictable beings outside the classroom, or more precisely, inside the staffroom. They talk. Gossip. Prick. Laugh. Confess. Seek help. Seeking help is the most common actually. 🙂

Okay. Everybody does that. So can teachers. They are also common people like you and I. But that’s not the point at all. They do all the very common things in a peculiar way. ‘Appo eli kadichittalle elippani pakarunnathathu??’ I laughed at that question. Laughed really hard. Not thinking about the scientific aspect of it. But seeing my ‘Digital System Design’ teacher stare so stupid and blank, I just couldn’t stop! (The subject name says how bright she should be!) And adding to my surprise, all the teachers in the staffroom fell silent as I broke into laughter. They looked at eachother and I could sense me screwing up. But to my shock, they started laughing with me. They find me mocking at a teacher so hilarious! Seriously! Lol. And another teacher. She says how she’d scare them, coming back as ghost if they dont get her a wreath of rose if she dies of elippani!

I loved the irony. The teacher next to me was shit scared and tensed. I was rotflmao (in my mind) when I learnt the reason for her worry. She was worried of screwing up coz the Inspector from the university had caught her using mobile phone during class hours! I still cant stop laughing. Rotfl.

The never ending complaints about how under paid they are. How the evaluation camp exhausts them. What are the procedures for applying for a Phd. When on earth will they finally get a change in
designation!

It was fun. And revealing. (cant be relieving when the teacher stares at your answer sheet!) What they actually thought about students is what actually we think about ourselves. That was mews to me! I’d love to write more of retests! If only they wouldn’t postpone it. 🙂