Sunday, December 13, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
- Life throws a curve ball at you when you least expect it. If you're not ready, it's apt to hit you in the face, and you might end up with a broken nose - or a broken femur as the case may be.
- Having failed to catch said curve ball, get back up on your feet real quick. That's the only way you'll know if you're fine or, when you collapse in a heap, unable to support yourself - you need to get professional help.
- Now that you're at the doc's, learn to swallow the bitter pill. Just coz you haven't seen the x-ray, doesn't mean the bone isn't broken. It will need need mending.
- Time is relative. It can always be measured as the space between chocolate breaks
- Your real family is the one that calls you/ writes to you/ sends you a hand made get-well-soon card that you can always go back to when there's nothing good on the telly.
- Your phone's pretty useless unless it has at least 2 games and 6 of your favourite songs
- There's no such thing as listening to a favourite song too many times. And however often you listen to it, it'll still have the power to cheer you up.
- If some one objects to listening to a song one more time, he can always listen to your personal rendition of the song. Listening to the original might suddenly become a whole lot less objectionable.
- Life is a battle of wits between you and your oppressors. Every time they think of ways of making your life miserable, or immobile (apparently for your own good), you need to think of new ways of outsmarting them by contorting your body into impossible positions.
- There's always a silver lining. The number of days you're tied down in bed is directly proportionate to the number of chocolates you'll receive, and be allowed to consume by guilt - ridden adults.
Saturday, April 04, 2009
I have lately stopped reading my book in the tube. I find it for more interesting to watch other people while listening to the latest hindi ‘gaana’
Like Ms Goodman chooses to classify people into 12 broad categories, we can classify the tube commuter into 12 broad catergories:
The Ram: The ram bulldozes his/ her way into the crowded compartment and yells at the top of their voices ‘Move alonnnng, please’. Yes, dear ram, we needed you to tell us that, otherwise, we just so love to leave vast expanses of unoccupied seats and standing space, all to huddle together on the 3 square feet of space you need to occupy.
The Balance: These ones would do you proud on a footboard in a Mumbai local. They’ll be the one’s standing near the door, first to hop out as soon as the train stops. No, not just at their station, but at every station – they’re also the last to hop in. At every station. Why they do this beats me, but I suppose it give them a warm afterglow to know that they have successfully shaved 1/625 th of a second off their travel time in a day.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Here are the following rookie NRI faux pas I committed:
- As soon as I landed, I commented on the noise levels in the city at 1 am in the morning
- Almost threw up in the vehicle after being treated to road-rash style driving
- Visited the temple – in traditional garb, not sparing Pickwick either
- Managed to infest kid with virus
- Managed to catch the aforementioned virus myself
- Was surprised that the country has not frozen in time and has managed to move on in the years that we were missing
- Commented on how expensive things had become and started sentences with ‘I remember back in my days when…’
- Clicked photographs of absolutely arbit. things which I now found hilarious (a key chain advertising ‘steel balls’ and a billboard for ‘sham publicity’)
- Had the junk food off the streets and marvelled at it, swore it was nothing short of gourmet
- However, did drink only mineral water, in case I caught something
- Caught something anyways
- Accidentally let the accent slip to a friend – and didn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the trip.
- Thoroughly enjoyed the rickshaw ride, and pooh-poohed at the natives who were sputtering at the pollution levels – and went giddy breathing in the concentrated levels of carbon monoxide.
- Caught with the 159 relatives who live in the city, mostly on a single day. Had Pickwick thoroughly confused on the number of tatas and pattis he has. He didn’t mind much though – his equation is simple: the number of relatives are directly proportional to the number if goodies you get. (‘pwesents!’)
- Went to relatives houses with chocolate, and got desi sweets in the bargain - and wondered for the nth time, why on earth they preferred the chocolates.
- Stacked up on the DVDs of our traditional mythological heroes (Hanuman and Ganesha) despite Pickwick not watching more than 60 seconds of anything, unless it’s a song and dance sequence
- Refused to move around in anything but tops, capris and cut-offs, and worked on my ‘tan’
- Went overboard with sending off clothes to the ‘ironwallah’ since I wasn’t the one doing the ironing
- Had to be frequently reminded by relatives to ‘just leave the dishes’ after a meal, I didn’t need to wash up afterwards *bliss*
Future visits will possibly iron out these quirks… although I’m rather hoping I can just get back to being the desi who’s visited by the NR relative.