Lust

They say, to covet that which belongs to another is wrong. What about the reverse? I have always lusted for those who will never be mine, that which I can never attain and to be, what is impossible. I have found that 'never' and 'impossible' do not hold good. Nothing is impossible.

Pride

Once upon a time, I used to bite my nails. My fingers used to look stubby, raw and unkempt. I suddenly stopped biting my nails. I saw a photo or an advertisement in some magazine of a woman's hands. The fingers were beautiful, long and tapered, the nails were buffed, polished and shaped and I opened my fingers and flinched. My nails are well-kept now. I am manic about my nails. Sometimes, when I look at my fingers, they seem alien and unknown. How could I have changed so?

Envy

My sister has a severe back problem and is on bed rest and needs an MRI. Poor thing! My sister envies my job. I'm astounded. How can anyone envy a job that has no limits whatsoever, that has no vacations (Take a vacation and the guilt follows you forever), leaves one with no social life, makes you live out of a suitcase and always remains stressful.

My sister's got a job that gives her 3 weeks vacation, gives her ample time to spend with her son and is not at all stressful. The grass, how it grows!

Humbling

When Genius meets plumpernickel, plumps is humbled. I've been inspired today by a living genius. If only I had 20% of the vision he did!

Comment Spammers Die!

If anyone does follow this blog regularly, you'll find that I have been attracting comment spammers. So, I've had to turn on Word Verification for comments. I'm sorry about it.

I hate to be paranoid about ze blog, because I often laugh at other bloggers who are anal about their blogs, and I am all for freedom of speech. However, I don't have any time to waste (I'd rather waste it gazing at the far horizon and day-dreaming or reading chick-lit, hehehehe) and opening comments and finding invitations to visit a site on baldness or dieting or viagra is in my opinion, an utter waste of time and effort. So, sorry comment spammers, you may die on this blog.

Quills

I have a new obssession - Pens. I have 2 Parkers, 1 Mont Blanc and 1 Shaeffers. I mostly write with either roller ball gel pens or fountain pens. I get refills for my Parkers and Shaeffers but I can't find Mont Blanc refills anywhere. The kick I get from writing with those pens is somewhat surprising. For one, they run much, much better than other pens and they are much more prettier than everyday pens and I like the comments they attract. Heh! This is a result of my friends' obssessions with pens. Two of my best friends are mad about pens and my first Parker was gifted to me by her. Now, I can actually understand why she was so nutty about these pens.

I Dance in Front of The Mirror

For the past few weeks, while getting dressed for work, I dance in front of the mirror to my favourite CDs. Sure, I get lonely in the house, but mostly its good. My house is good for me and my nastiness is getting tempered.

After seeing Helen's orchids, I've made up my mind to grow orchids at home. My mother has quite a few varieties of orchids and she manages to make them thrive even in extreme temperatures (Read: Heat) so there's no reason why mine won't grow at home.

Married To The Job

Concentrating on the whys and wherefores, our group brainstorms. Different accents, different lives, different people, different experiences all asking - Why? Why? Why? Suddenly, things fall into place and then we argue about how to make our theory foolproof and guide it through crashing, experienced breakers unharmed. Finally we have a presentable solution and we present it and defend ourselves. When our presentation is over, we fall into our seats gratefully and hear what the other groups have to say. Picking holes in other presentations, now seems fun.

Then, for a moment, I drop out and look at the room, tutors, students, observers. More younger people, beginners really, industrious, hard-working beginners. This group is different from most groups consisting of young people this age. For one, the IQ levels are way high. Most of us have dual masters degrees, enviable resumes and impressive academic backgrounds. Almost everyone is dressed in suits. Since this is not work, most suits are casual, but a suit is a suit is a suit. The women are dressed smartly but conservatively. I look at myself in a casual linen suit and a formal blouse and mules and for a moment, the rock chick in me dressed in jeans and a short, short tee wants to burst out singing "Dead Flowers" but then my brain screams at a major flaw in the presentation of the other group and I pounce on it and raise my hand to interject. I can't let that get away can I?

Rambling

When my sister is ill, she wants undivided attention from my father. When my brother is ill, he wants undivided attention from my mother. When I am unwell, I just want a cool hand on my forehead and a reminder of all the crazy things yet to be done.

I enjoy visiting Jazz bars. The more intimate and underground, the better. So, my favourite Jazz bar is the Blue Door in Hong Kong. Never more than 25 people, the most talented people of any and every nationality jamming. No one intrudes into your space. No one hustles. Everyone's into their own trip and its the perfect way to unwind and destress.

Scary Tales

I met Gaurav Natekar and scared him.

I like scaring and intimidating people. Till date, only two people have umm... managed to cow me down. I remember, how one of my prospective groom's mother told me on my face, "Ladki ki personality mere ladke ki personality ko daba degi." (Translation: This girl will cow my son down. True, madame thankfully-not-my-MIL, true.)I think I come on too strong. I can't help it. Its genetic or something. Which is why I adore those who don't succumb to my bullying.

As Ponappa says, "Beta, the sheer size of you is so... Big!" Anyhow. I scare people and thats the bottomline. Snerk!

Five Point Someone and Why It Sucks

In college, I was a five point someone. I had a great time on campus. I was not looked down on by my classmates, friends and batchmates. The problem with my hallowed institute was that the grading pattern followed a cumulative grade point average. So, if you did badly in the first semester, you were stuck with those grades for life. The problem was not with the system, but with my professors. Since I did really badly in my first semester, they assumed I was dumb and since all exams were internal, personal prejudice did matter somewhat. I wasn't the kind who would go and whine and cajole like the other people in my class, so I guess I was not Ms. Popular. Which is why I had to work my butt off to bring my grade point average to acceptable levels and even after moving up the ladder academically in subsequent semesters, my cumulative grade point average still sucked. Anyhow.

I did suffer initially after college because I missed working for the big IT firms because of my grade point average. It hurt. I cleared every test taken during recruitment with flying colors, but they wouldn't hire someone with a low grade point average. I should mention here, that many of my classmates who were academically ranked higher than I, did not.

Which is why, the material things in life matter so much to me, because I have had to struggle and work for them. Now, I earn probably three or four times as much as most of my peers and classmates. It has not been easy. Today I can pick and choose my employers. I know many of the people personally who came to my college for recruitment and didn't recruit me because of my low grade point average. It feels ironical.

When I read Five Point Someone, even though I had experienced the downsides of ranking low in my class, I found it superficial. Despite everything, I still have high regard for my college. I think my professors were mean and unfair, but they were brilliant and honest teachers. I got encouragement from some professors who were supposed to be maneaters in college. I made many friendships and all through these years, my friends have stuck with me. I enjoyed participating in stuff in college, I interacted with brilliant people and found it exhilirating.

So, I found Chetan Bhagat's book typical of the North Indian Engineering Student Stereotype. I should know, I have suffered the type all my life. Most Indians revere my college as a ticket to a better life or the USA. Mostly, it is treated like a sacred cow. Which is why a crappy book written by an alumnus is treated like the Holy Bible while brilliant books written by people from other colleges are largely ignored.

Two Heads Better Than One

I have worked long and hard for a moment like this. Now, I can sit back and wait, listen to criticism, comments and opinions. I'm excited but I don't know the outcome and can only hope things go well. Do mothers feel this way after birthing? Because its MY baby and I've invested 6 months of my life to this. How will I feel handing it over to my team member? Will I micromanage him and obssess and worry? Will it be easy to walk away? Will I toss and turn wondering what, oh god, what is going on? Will the strategizing, planning, hard work bear any fruit? Please God please, don't let me fail.

Business on Demand

For those men whose members suffer flaccidity and who's partners suffer the effects, another invention for when the mood strikes! Imbedding a chip in the member that is controlled by an external remote control that causes correction of the ahem... condition on activating button in remote control. To come in 3 versions - Single user, double users and multiple user - depending on personal preferences and inclinations. Something tells me Pfizer should worry!

In which I am officially pronounced dead

I've been working non-stop for the last 28 hours. I have the entire workday stretched ahead of me. Some scant dozen reports to write, some scant dozen documents to read and some scant hundreds resumes to weed through apart from my normal responsibilities. My neck and shoulder are ready to separate from my body, my head is ready to split into a million pieces and the thumb on my right hand feels numb. Today even killer-coffee is not working. All this with no vacation. If I didn't have to pay off my home loan, I would have just gone home and slept non-stop for 3 days.

Better than me

I have bitchy and terrible fights with my sister and I am sorry for being such a bad, bad person, but I think she's amazing and million times better a person than I. My family follows my blog and was primarily why I started blogging, this way they would know whats up with me always even if I wouldn't write, call, text or email.

But this is not about me, it's about my sister. She's started a blog and here's my sister Bubbleandsqueak's blog.

Stop or My Mom Will Shoot

Mother has had her revenge. All my life I have had to bear the piousness of one of my mother's acquaintance's son. I was no Einstein. This guy was a child genius apart from being extremely low maintenance. Anyway, that was still bearable, what was totally hard to digest was how wonderfully idealistic Einstein was, how sensitive and understanding and mature. Really how could anyone else hold a candle up to Einstein? Then, I messed up my life, according to everyone. I was given the royal boot on the day of my engagement and set the grapevine all abuzz about why I was left unwed. Einstein's mother had a field day. Today mother told me with glee that our Einstein was in a live-in relationship with an American girl. Einstein's mother is reportedly not happy with this turn of events. Ah! The scandal! Mothers of sons should not slight mothers of daughters. Sooner or later, sons hurt mothers and then slighted mothers of daughters can gloat and say to mothers of sons, "A daughters always a daughter."

Perfection

All my life I was driven to perfection. The perfect job, the perfect man, the perfect weight, the perfect hairdo, the perfect life. Today, my suitcases are strewn in the drawing room (living room), my paintings and prints spill over from every nook and corner in my flat, I have piles of clothes on the floor in both the bedrooms - one for washing whites, one coloureds, one for dry cleaning, one to be ironed. I am typing this post, I have a pesto-parmesan sandwich and freshly brewed coffe inside me and I listen to Bob Dylan bootlegs and I think, "screw perfection, this is the best it could be."

Terms of Endearment

I had written this to myself sometime at the beginning of last year. A bad, bad time for me. I checked my mail today and I saw this. It came on my birthday, except I could check mail only today. Funny, the way things have changed.

Dear FutureMe,

I hope you have been a better person. I hope you will learn to move on, adapt, be less judgemental and a smaller spender. I hope you find love in return and when you find it, recognise it.
I hope you would have achieved the following:
1. Another level of german.
2. Lost 10 kgs and keep it that way.
3. Completed your .net certifications
4. Started your MBA applications and given your GMAT.
5. learnt 2 new skills
6. learnt to hold your tongue and bite it if necessary
7. More than anything else, I hope you learn to be happy
8. And paint THE mural.

If you do not achieve atleast 2 of these, I shall be bad....

Cheers!

Take care of yourself, even if no one else does.

I have achieved three of the above, any guesses?

Surfacing

Posting will be brief and sporadic because work, play, pressures and responsibilities have reared their heads again at the same time. Meanwhile feeel free to comment on previous posts, check out the archives or just ignore this blog. I shall be back!

Grasshopper

Gadzillion papers need my attention. I should have dealt with them yesterday, but I didn't, so now I must pay for my procrastination.

Genealogy

I have cool parents, which should have been nice, except they continue to be the bane of my existence. They are totally irresponsible, bohemian, do not believe my “Windmills of the Gods” theories (which to me make sense, I’m a typical Virgo, I give and take in equal measures) and react to it with,

Father: “What illiterate tosh! Is this why I paid for your college and postgrad tuition so that the fruit of my loins would have a totally unscientific temperament? Do you seriously expect me to listen to your baseless theories? Bah! What would your professors say?”

Mother: “That is so vengeful! How did you get this way? Beta, there is no God, see, I cheat on him all the time and He can’t even catch me out, what a fool!”

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. I was thinking aloud one day to my mother. The amount of money that goes from my pockets into Reliance’s deep ones is not funny. And I get attitude from their crappy customer service. Scum! Blackguards! Bastards! But, I have digressed again. I was telling mom how much I envied folks with kids and was seriously contemplating adoption or something. Mom encouraged me and appreciated my noble thoughts. I should have smelt a rat at that. Yesterday, out of the blue, Mom asks me, “So, when is your kid coming home? What size clothes should I start knitting/ making?” I spluttered and croaked, “What kid?” Mom says, “Your kid, the one you are adopting, what age is it going to be? 1, 2 or older? I can’t wait to tell everyone my daughter’s latest noble deeds and I can’t wait to teach the kid to call you dummy or Muddy! Mwahahaha!”

I can’t believe this! My own mother? With a totally juvenile and asinine sense of humour? Is this my own flesh and blood even?

Touche'!

I love Russell Crowe. Right from the moment I read THIS. It takes balls to say something so true in public. I really like him now.

From www.southflorida.com News, according to Crowe -

"I'm sick to death of famous people standing up and using their celebrity to promote a cause. If I see a particular need, I do try to help. But there's a lot that can be achieved by putting a cheque in the right place and shutting up about it."

My sentiments exactly, which is why I get pissed off with celebrity bloggers getting all hoity-toity with the "right" issues. In college I once took a course on Interpersonal Relations, mostly to improve my own. After the course I was even more convinced that people mostly do populist things to gratify their frightful need for acceptance and self-verification and not because they are actually charitable. I was fully convinced when some very famous people actually did a volte face but pretended otherwise in front of the media. I firmly believe that most people have nasty sides to them, which is ok, however accepting that sorry fact is really tough for most everybody.

Minority Report

I am used to being the minority. In kindergarten, I was the only kid who could read and wanted to read. In school, I was the only one who wasn't into horrid 80s haircuts and popular culture, you see I was the classics-reading blue-stocking-in-the-making kinds and my classmates were not.

In high-school, I was the only one who thought admitting to crushes was lame and would tell my classmates heartlessly, "Why would Aamir Khan look at you? Now, just think, he has Juhi chawla." The boys hated me because I was never embarrassed and was uber-competitive and could ride bikes, motorbikes, scooters and later my dad's car. The key was in never revealing my crush on Rod Stewart. I knew he was old. I knew he was loud and silly, but I'm sure he's a fun guy. Anyhow, I digress. As a result, I was routinely hated.

In college, I was not into flings, college romances and the grapevine. I was into getting good grades and getting the hell out of there, and I'm not bright, so I have always needed to work that much more harder. So, I was hated for not giving into politics and not taking sides.

During my postgrad, I was hated because I was this fat, feminist, non-conformist bitch who thought men were redundant and beat the shit out of the guys at most word, quizzing events. Again, the key was in not revealing my mad crush on the greek god on campus. He was younger, madly good-looking, even in most of the clubs I was in and totally uptight. Still, I forgive him for that. If only he knew just how much I drooled at him on the squash courts.

When I started working, I was over-qualified, hence hated by most of my immediate bosses for being better educated than them. One of them actually gloated at the fact. Bastard! I was also disliked for not conforming to any social convention. Single but happy. Yes, I can pretend wonderfully, and I normally take out all grief out of my system by whining about it on blogs. Anyhow.

Then, I changed jobs and was hated for being younger than most of my team but technically being their boss. I was hated for being again better educated than most. I was hated for not having major tragedies in my life and for apparently sailing through life, If only they knew! So mostly my social scene sucked.

Now, I am an apartment owner. I have to now attend apartment meetings. So far so good. All the rest of the apartment owners are my parents' age. I am in a minority again. I have to pretend I am so concerned about a lot of issues that bore the shit out of me and I think they all know it. I've actually told them I'm 5 years older than I am, and most have kids my incremental age. So, to the homeowners, I'm a kid and to their kids I am a homeowner and hence uncool.

I have realised now, that I shall always be in a minority, mostly because I don't care to conform and do just what I feel like without bothering to think about the consequences. Sometimes it gets awfully lonely, and then I stop and think about how I've never done the majority thing and how uncomfortable I would feel on that side. Still, it would be nice if greek gods noticed me and would sometimes belong on my side.

Crafty

I told my sister long ago that I had stopped posting on my blog. I hoped it would put her off, but I now find that she is still a regular reader, thanks to my brother Judas. Sigh! I tried! Now, my sister has decided (with more than a little help from me) that we are incredible, not that it needed any decision, it is a known fact. Next step - world domination.

X Factor

Many people tell me that their first impression of me is that I am intimidating. I often wonder if the conversation is about the same person or are they perhaps talking of some other plumpernickel? Intimidating? Moi?
Possible explanations could be -
(i) I am taller, broader and fatter than the average Indian woman and ahem! men. Maybe I embarass all the puny sorts?
(ii) I often don't giggle like a lot of women. I am given to making black remarks like, "Don't you think the world would be better if someone smashed XYZ's patella?" as conversation starters. That could be construed as scary?
(iii) I actually know more than a whole lot of people and can't keep my big, fat mouth shut about facts and er... facts of life.
(iv) I can put smart-asses in their place instantly. What to do, I went to an almost all-boys college. Its my social conditioning.
(v) In India, one usually starts introductions with so-and-so has gone to such-snd-such school and this-and-that college/ university and is related to them-and-them. Once the college is known, the next question asked is what I graduated in and then people suddenly stop all conversations with me. To all such people, I have one thing to say, Chick Lit. I enjoy Chick Lit, doesn't that make me as normal as your next-door neighbour doing Home Science from Ballygunge Science College?
(vi) I have begun to suspect that my self-absorption and navel-gazing actually are apparent now.

Anyway, the point is, that I don't know if I am intimidating or not, but seeing that it keeps away a lot of job-less good-for-nothing lay-abouts, maybe it is a good thing that i have this hidden x factor?

Intense Competition

My hugest problem is that I find women very competitive. Its always about the boobs, husbands or lack of, bigger stones and the perfection of life. I have chosen to bow out of the rat race.

Genetics

My father won a prize by a telecom company. He was offered 3 choices: An investment plan, a holiday for 4 to Goa and appliances from a certain electronic appliance maker for a certain amount. He has to make up his mind on Monday. Mamma called up my sister, brother and me to get a consensus. My sister said, "Appliances, of course!" My brother said, "The investment plan is the wisest decision, of course." I said, "Which fool would not choose the holiday?"

Mother still does not have a consensus.

Thinking...

Every English Literature student in Calcutta has a god-damned blog!

The best part

Is when you are intertwined, but not quite, and saying to yourself, "I'm not alone, I'm not alone, I am not alone, thank God!"

Then I wake up and find my pillow wet with tears again.