Friday, June 30, 2006

Why Are German Names So Unsexy?


JANSEN Marcell
HUTH Robert
KEHL Sebastian
FRINGS Torsten
KLOSE Miroslav
KAHN Oliver
LAHM Philipp

Compare it with

AYALA Roberto
HEINZE Gabriel
TEVEZ Carlos
FRANCO Leonardo
MILITO Gabriel
CUFRE Leandro
MESSI Lionel
CRUZ Julio

And yet the sexy names can't get a goddamn penalty kick right!!!!

So, now that the sexy argentinians have been well and truly penalty kicked out of the world cup, I'm supporting the Germans.

Clean-Cut Kid

I love to talk with my little nephew. I love just manipulating conversation with him but occassionally he just rips me up. Today I was telling him that if he did not do stuff for me I would mail his Tintin puzzle book to some other little boy and then the little tyke manipulated the conversation by talking of other little boys. Then, he asked me which other little boy I would consider sending his book to, so I said, "Well! Maybe a little boy in delhi?" I meant my other nephew and then the little one says, "Well! You don't know many little boys in Delhi, but you know atleast one big boy." I asked him who and he says, "B. Mama, of course!" Because, of course what Mama has is the little one's natural right. We're getting crafty here!

Wednesday, June 28, 2006


I am not going on the Wonderful, Adventurous, Magical, Re-union Vacation because Mata and Poo's plans frightened me to death. I don't want to carry MTR and I refuse to be bullied and I absolutely cannot stay in B and Bs. I'm rather happy because I really was not looking forward to Mata's lectures on Roman civilization. Much as I love travelling, I like doing it my way and not being bored to death by Mata's over-analysis and Poo's over-enthusiasm. I like laidback vacations where I can explore any alley I want to, which allow me to get lost and discover interesting stuff and in which I can people-watch.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Things I hate About Calcutta

1. Buying birth control pills. All the assholes at pharmacies scrutinize the tablets and me as if they have nothing better to do but memorize the medical compositions of the goddamned pills for a recitation performance at gyan mancha just that very fucking moment. I have abashed many assholes by saying, "dada, jodi poda hoi geche, ektu settle korbein?" (brother, if you've finished reading, could you please hurry?) I really want to know, does this happen with anyone else or is it just me? Here I am being a good citizen, heeding the government's population control policies and there are the great bong lower middle-class thought police. I actually have started buying my pills in bulk from thailand or singapore, but once in a while I have to and this happens all the fucking time and I'm very pissed about it.
2. Club ladies. Arghhhhh!!! Firstly, women in Calcutta have nothing to be excited at, its only since last year or nearabouts that clubs in calcutta have started accepting women members and so I find it REALLY weird when women look down their noses at my club and snootily tell me, "Oh! My club is Tolly/ CCFC/ Bengal/ Calcutta or whatever they think is way kewl." Lady had it not been for your husband/ brother/ father, you would not be in a position to say that. There are a handful of lady members and I think I know them all. Sad, but true. Calcutta class distinctions really crack me up sometimes.
3. Bad, inconvenient flight connections especially international airlines. I have to waste 2 days if I have to fly anywhere abroad, and I'm pissed. Nothing annoys me more than my time being wasted and I hate waiting, so this is a major peeve I have.


I never understood what it meant to be the best, professionally. Now I know, and the satisfaction is worth the lack of a life. Sometimes, one email can screw up an entire month and sometimes an email can light up my entire world.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Lord Protect My Child

I'm convinced that half the reason people have children is to laugh at them. All my nieces and nephews will attest to this fact, as will my sister and cousins. Right?

I Don't Mind

My normal work day is 15 hours long. When its a busy day, it is 18 hours long. The only thing that keeps me going is talking with my family and loved ones. Then, I don't even mind my nephew calling me ***** mausi instead of Plumpie mausi as I like being called and its really the sweetest thing.


The more I see the world, the more I feel women have it tough, REAL tough. Picture this: 50 CEOs talking on how they made it and only 1 of them a woman. How sad can that be and how scary and how uninspiring.

I meet about 15 women, all working for top corporates and all married and somehow are more impressed with their husbands' careers. Sad again.

Out of said 15 women, I get to know 5 really well and the amount of control their husbands have, is scary. I may be over-reacting, but I still think Indian women have the rawest deal if they are working.

I am actually told that since I am not married, I wouldn't understand compromise. Sure, babes, that's just why I didn't get married because I didn't want to "compromise". Because I'm very selfish and because I refuse to "compromise". That doesn't mean I don't empathize, which is why I feel really sorry for all working women in India.

Which is why I'm still smarting because I resent the pressure by the ex, by society and everytime some idiot calls me Mrs. Plumpie. I resent that Indian men are such assholes, I resent that people think they can encroach on my time just because I don't have the demands of a husband and children and more than anything else I resent the curiosity of strangers who want to know my supposed tragedies.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Double Shot of Espresso

You know you're growing old when:

1. Your nephew stops looking like a kid and grows taller than you.
2. You start understanding and spouting corporate gobbledygook.
3. You suddenly start sleeping 7 hours at night and get annoyed on your sleep being interrrupted.
4. You walk down a road and atleast 5 people (kids/ teenagers/ generic young people) call you aunty.
5. You can curb the giggles.
6. You stop labeling people as "Ugly and Old" because you discover 1 more kilo and another grey hair on your head.
7. You start giving generic young people speeches on "working hard".
8. You stop retorting rudely back to older people and your superiors in your head.
9. You can identify players and when you do, you run.

The Vagina Monologue

Scene: Fine Arts Academy, Central Gallery

Players: Me (P), Young pimply sculptor (YPS), Bong Mashima (BM)

While I and YPS were negotiating the price of marble sculpture of a pair of hands cradling a vagina (sounds gross, looks beautiful and rather startling), a very proper and very respectable BM walks upto YPS and with a naughty, leery and round-eyed look asks YPS excitedly, "Oi ki meyeder oita dhore aache?"

I am not translating this.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Why Tony?

Reasons why I have such a solid crush on Anthony Bourdain..

1. Looks too much like ex...
i. Weird dress sense
ii. Crinkles at ends of eyes
iii. Long nose
iv. Identical self-conscious look
v. Weird loping walk
vi. Smokes identically - funnily and horribly
2. How can one not like anyone who can eat so much foie gras?
3. Curiosity about food everywhere - lovely
4. Can drink himself silly and still look cute

Life sometimes is so monumentally unfair.

But,if I had to choose, I'd always choose happiness over cuteness.

She's Got The Look

I am looking at the photographs I got developed to send to my mother. I look so simpery and false-smiley in most of them. What actually frightens me is that when I'm my normal sulky, moody, disgruntled self, nobody says that I'm the only real person in the room. When I'm smiling fakely, when I'm simpering, when I'm doing the small talk, schmoozing, being fake-fake, I'm hugged and told, "You're my only real person in this room, how nice to meet you!"

I shall never understand the ways of this world.

I have decided on my pink shirt picture, taken with a 60 year old lady. Now if that doesn't please my mother, nothing will. What would she say if I sent her my pic in which I'm gazing at my sake cup (actually at the cute spanish guy, oh you break my heart when you say my name with the vowels all exaggerated and drawn out!) with meena kumari eyes?

There She Goes

My mother needs proof of everything. So, when we go on vacations, she HAS to have a million photographs to show around. My mother is happiest when photographed cheesily against the Eiffel tower, leaning tower of pisa or whatever the local touristy destination there may be.

Now, she demands photos of me whenever I travel. She still can't get over the fact that I have not sent her any pictures of the colosseum. So, I am sending her back-dated pictures and hoping she doesn't remember that I've had an hair cut.