BEING A "LEFTY"

I don't really know when or who first asked the question, "you write and eat with your left hand?". all i know is that i've always been writing, am writing and will be writing with my left hand (unless i break my left hand somehow). my family has accepted me as normal, while my friends in school thought it was totally cool to be a left-hander. there were a few teachers and relatives who thought that i was just being totally fussy and stubborn and that i could've learnt to write with the "proper" hand if i tried. when questioned (when just a kid), i used to feel awkward and look at mum (if she's around). mum would calmly explain that there's nothing wrong in writing with the left hand, and that there are many cases in which people happened to be a left hander... (complete explanation with scientific proof and all). once school was over and i was to settle in the hostel, i vaguely wondered what people there would think. my first meal experience wasn't pleasant. when i sat down with my plate and started to eat(trust me, i felt like i was condemned to the central prison), a few girls noticed something was seriously odd about me (i guess they couldn't point out the oddity right away because i was a completely weird person by nature). after a few silent moments (during which i was trying to eat peacefully and not worry about the futur), one of them says, " you are eating with your left hand!", with an expression that conveyed the message-yew!disgusting! i remember turning all red like a tomato and thanking the heavens above that the lighting system in the hostel is not so good (only later did i know that there were enough tube-lights to brighten up the mess hall, but we are allowed to switch on only 2 of them to save electricity). as all heads turn to me, i act as if i don't care and say casually that there is nothing wrong in being a lefty while inside, i felt like strangling the girl by her throat. inspite of my own stubborness, i eventually learnt how to eat with my right hand (i haven't reached perfection, though...i shove the food inside with my right hand, the way a tractor would shove mud), simply to avoid questions like, "but why do you eat with the left hand when everyone else eats with their right?"....."hhmmm, so does that mean you clean your butt with the right hand?"...."are you a lefty so that people will think you are cool?"..."okay, so that means the right side of your brain works more, huh?"...etc...

there are times when i get totally confused about which hand is which and eat with my left. but now,it does not disturb me anymore when people ask(trust me, most of them are sooooo narrow-minded) because i've reached a stage in which i have a vague idea of what i want to be one day,...and being a righty is not in the list.

THE USES OF NEEM

for months i've been living in every girl's nightmare -the horrors of living with a great infestation of hair-lice. these horrid insects won't simply get off me. what makes matters worse is the fact that my hair has the right environment needed for lice to breed rapidly (at times i go... scratch! scratch! scratch!). so finally, when i came back home after college was done with, one of the first resolutions that my mum made (for me...mum's always doing good things for my sake) was to totally eradicate all those crawling pests in her poor baby's head. i gave in, ofcourse. even i was eager to lead a free life again. but the price i had to pay for it was big. mum got to know from an aunty that neem is good for eradicating lice. putting that tip into practice, would mean to make a paste out of the neem leaves and then apply it on the head for atleast half an hour. since mum knew that walking around with green gooey stuff on my head for half an hour is simply not practical in my case, ("it'll drip down and make the entire place dirty?") she compromised on making me have a hair-bath with it every morning(as in, using the neem leaves' paste as a shampoo). we tried it, and it worked. soon the lice and it's eggs started decreasing in number and it reduced so much that it was difficult to even find one. mum became euphoric when she found how effective neem was and she told it to everybody she interacted with. "all's well that ends well", one would say. but it does not end there....

it so happened that last week i read in the weekend magazine about the different uses of neem, it's importance in ayurvedic medicine and the like. it seems neem is good for the stomach, for mouth hygiene, the skin, the hair,etc....(you wouldn't believe the big list of advantages). i tore off the 4paged article and gave it to mum for keeping (mum beamed at it, the way a child would if a stuffed xmas pappa gave him a present). a few days later, i unconsciously scratch my head while deep in thought and my mum's sharp eyes notes it.

mum: you are scratching your head again.

me: huh?....yea, i was just thinking...you know...scratching my head while deep in thought...to keep my brains working...

mum(doesn't listen to my explanation): i was thinking...maybe you should apply neem on your hair for a few more days, just in case it comes back...we should make sure we've completely eradicated it.

i gloomily look at her realising that she might be right (as always) and at the same time feeling lazy to go through the ritual again. the next day, i wake up to a chirpy morning and go to the kitchen where i catch my mum red-handed munching on neem leaves ("mmmmph...guoof for da fomacch....mmmmfmph"). while munching on the leaves she hands me a bowl with "neem shampoo". i go for the bath and i'm soon covered with green, slimy,gooey stuff, feeling very much like "swamp- thing".

RICKETY- CRICK, RICKETY- CRICK
comb your hair girl!
it'll make you look more like a girl
more neat, like a girl could
more pretty, the way a girl should
more graceful, the way a girl would
comb your hair girl!
RICKETY-CRICK, RICKETY-CRICK

-------------------------------------------------------------

do not indulge too much in beauty magazines... it'll make you feel ugly.....

living with psychotics and neurotics(part 5)

i never knew what a mime was until i joined college. it all started when the 1st years were asked to perform atleast any one item on stage. while i (a 1st year then) was going through the list of items....dance(i'd most probably be trying desperately to co-ordinate all my body parts at once and not succeed)....music(hmmm, naaa...i just know the basics of the piano....sing a song?ok, provided someone agrees to sing an english one with me)....drama(i'd have to wear a mask to hide the stupid smirk on my face whenever i pronounce malayalam words the wrong way)....kathakali(whatever that is!)....etc....MIME! (what on earth is that!). well, as time was falling short and i had to figure out some way of getting on stage and flourishing some kind of talent (and not embarassing myself at the same time) i started to panic. i remember feeling so left out. it wasn't like this in school...i was totally myself and had no trouble fitting in or being involved, before....but then, that was school and in a totally different country, things are different...

a classmate of mine(a girl who likes bossing people around...she's got a sweet element in her though) walks upto me and asks me if i'm willing to join her. we go around and collect all the girls in our class who aren't involved in any of the items and form a group. i look around and say, "great! now what do we do?".

want to know what happened next?....we went around trying to find out what exactly a mime is, tried to figure out the rules, scratched our heads for a theme, jotted down the role of each character in it, did a little of co-ordination control, and voilà!....we had a mime presentation ready.but we hadn't overcome the greatest challenge - making the audience understand the message we wish to convey. some of our caring friends agreed to sit through the 3mins presentation and comment on it and well,...they didn't understand a thing...

Note: for those wondering what a mime is, here goes:

"acting using only gesture and action: a style of performance in which people act out situations or portray characters using only gestures, facial expressions, and actions. In the popular imagination, mimes are thought of as having a uniform costume that includes black and white horizontal striped clothes, suspenders, a formal black top hat or beret, formal white gloves (to highlight the motions of the hands), and white face paint (similar to that used by a clown), with some accents in black. "

contd...

we tried on new expressions and actions and tried to introduce a little gymnasium into it(which didn't work because none of us had really elegant and flexible bodies) to make the damn thing more understandable. nothing seemed to work though. another fear that crept into me was whether i'd be confident enough to perform it on stage in front of an entire crowd(i've got stage fright)...what was worse, was the fact that i was the main character in each scene, and if i screwed it up, i'll be ruining the entire show, which means we'll be losing points, they'll blame the entire thing on me and.......aaaaaaaahhhhh...i'm in a MESS!. above all, i simply HATED MIME!!

finally, it was time for us to perform, i just closed my eyes, said a prayer, and entered the stage platform...and just did everything i was supposed to....and returned backstage gasping(everyone who performed with me were gasping too, i realised. we were the bunch of kids in class who had very little confidence in ourselves, then.) we got the first place for our presentation(we realised that the 1st years in the other classes were as clueless as us about what exactly a mime is)...

the rest is history....every mime show that came up, i was always involved....later, when i became a senior, i was always the in-charge....

i still don't like and am not interested in mime. i still don't know what the right actions are to be used and the right way to express it is. even now, it's the other people in the group who actually give innovative ideas...ideas more better than my own. but one thing is true. i'm less scared of walking on stage now and that was the first hurdle i had to pass to become more confident and to have faith in myself. i've also learnt a little in group dynamics and socialising from this experience...

and it was my parents' 27th wedding anniversary

when it comes to celebrating anything, my family sucks! be it a b'day or an anniversary or anything. we(pap, mum and myself) "celebrated" my parents' 27th wedding anniversary last friday(1st of june). on the 31st of may, we went out to have a look at our new flat and arrange a few things. by the time we were on our way to have dinner, it was already 11:30pm. since we always eat out on thursdays and fridays, we headed straight for a lebanese restaurant. while we were waiting for the food (i look around and try not to stare at the others....my God!...what gluttons!) my watch makes a beep sound and i realise that it's midnight. "hey, it's pap and mum's anniversary". pap looks the other side and chooses to act like as if he didn't hear what i just said, while, mum gives a nervous laugh (she tried to do what pap did, but i guess she didn't because it would've looked odd since i had barked the flash news at her). when the silence thickens, and we start feeling awkward, mum asks pap, "what do you think of the orgin of the lebanese people?", to which pap and i promptly replies, "they come from lebanon ofcourse!"...

Mum (sniffs indignantly looking at pap): that's not what i meant. you didn't understand my question...

Pap(scrathing his head, acting confused): i'll understand only if you explain.

Mum: i mean, are they the descendants of abraham or...

Pap: don't know whether they are the descendants of abraham or sunny, or jacky or anything..

(for those who don't know pap, pap has a limited knowledge of the bible...like me)

blah, blah, blah.......they argue...and argue...and argue (an argument fit enough to be presented in the court).

i sit back and wonder how pap and mum ever romance...i mean, all these years i looked at them as my parents and not as a man and woman committed to love each other till death. i sigh, because nobody in our family seems to be romantic or anything. all five of us are stiff and rigid when it comes to expressing soft emotions.....

the next day(2nd of june)....

i am online and my big sis pops up(online). i say hi and everything and we decide to speak through the headphones. while i try to settle down my sis "calls" me and i ignore it. after having settled, i "call" her back and we talk.....

while checking my mail the same day, i see a voice mail sent to me by my sis and i curiously open it.....the next 4 mins were moments of revelation!...i realised that when my sis was waiting for me to settle down, she had a small conversation with her husband...and by mistake recorded it and sent it to me as a voice mail (again by mistake)....i grin to myself, and realise that we do belong to the romantic species afterall....it's just that we're all shy to express ourselves...

WELCOME TO tHE WORLD OF FANTASY(part 3)

for all those freaky girls who like to fight and prove themselves!! check out this video...it's simply cool!....mulan's a cute and cool role model....go girl!!!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSS5dEeMX64&mode=related&search=

living with psychotics and neurotics(part 4)

It's actually very easy to be a hero. all you have to do is to be in the right place at the right time. i remember once when i was simply lazing around in bed (my favourite idling spot) after dinner and passing idle comments while the rest of them were sitting nearby and talking about the latest gossips of who's going out with whom, and the like, the lights suddenly go off. while all of us curse and say that we were actually planning to study after a few minutes, we suddenly remember that amuru (who's very scared of the dark and yea, who likes imitating the way people walk) wasn't with us. we roar with laughter at first, but then when time passes and there is no sign of her, we start to get worried....i get down from my bed and go in search of her in the dark (couldn't find a torch or candle...not a wonder, considering how messy our room is always!). i start walking fast (now that's a secret,.....i'm scared of the dark myself) and bump into something (oh my God!!! i promise i'll do whatever you want me to do.....please don't let it be a ghost lurking in the dark waiting for it's first victim!). i understand that it's amuru herself! she sobs into my arms and i say, "hey, what are you scared of!! there's certainly no ghost here!! haha...amuru...don't tell me you are scared....!!"

to which, she replies, "not funny, i was all alone here when the lights went off, all alone....sob!....all alone...until you came....sob!.....thanks....sob!".

i roll my eyeballs and i say,"open your eyes you idiot!" and i slowly guide her to my room where the rest of them were waiting. the lights come back and everyone exclaims, "oh!"(amuru still has her eyes shut, and asks, "did the current come back?). when amuru finally opens her eyes she gives me the "mmmyyyyyy-herooooo" look.....

when it was finally time for all of us to part, amuru promises me that she'll remember me everytime there are current cuts at her place (which is always) and that she'll try to be braver....

well, you see....right place, right time...

you can apply it in your love-life too...... for those yearning to win the heart of a hunk or a damsel in distress, just look out for the right place and right time.....and for God's sake, do the right thing too....

P.S.-we didn't even touch our books that day....

living with psychotics and neurotics(part 3)

it was one of those days in which the entire group was feeling lazy and just, well... hanging around. we were all sooooo exhausted (don't remember why) and we thought of simply sitting in the common room after dinner. we were lazily and idly talkin about, well....nothing important. as a few minutes passed by, the other girls (who were as jobless as we were) started gathering around. when the crowd became...well.....crowdy, we thought of indulging in something we all would enjoy (since we were the senior most batch in the hostel it was naturally our responsiblity to entertain the crowd). amuru, the most popular and lovable personality among us in the hostel, steps forward and volunteers to imitate the way certain girls in the hostel walk in the most peculiar way. while she prepares to start "walking the ramp" many shout out names of the girls having the most funniest walks....all off us laugh uproaraiously while the girl being imitated at the moment steams and blushes. from somewhere i hear my name being called, but it somehow doesn't strike me as anything odd. after having imitated one of the teachers none of us were not particularly fond of, amuru starts hopping like a grass-hopper. i laugh my heart off and loudly ask, "who on earth walks like THAT?!!"....the crowd around me roars and i realise that it was me amuru was imitating...for a moment i was shocked...MY GOD!! that's how grass-hoppers would have marched to war!...i then get back to my senses and playfully shake my fist at amuru...aaahhhh! who cares, i've got people who like me for who i am....and that's saying much....

WHO SAID THE YOUNGEST IS THE MOST PAMPERED!!??

i still very clearly and vividly remember the times when i was a little kid and my smart big bro and big sis used to always be the "know-it-alls". poor me used to always lag behind, be it tasks that required cognitive work or motor skills. i remember the times we used to play catch-catch with my cousins, and when nobody used to bother even trying to catch me because they thought i was incompetent (i'd be trying hard to run fast when it is so obvious that with the speed i'm running with, only a few lazy steps towards me is enough to catch me). when at the end, the unfortunate catcher feels too tired to chase anyone else, he/she will jog towards the terrified me and..... "caught you, ha!". well, i can't really say that it sucks to be the youngest. when time goes by, you get the chance to watch your siblings grow, see the mistakes they make (although everthing will seem very confusing at that time), observe the way they accomplish wonders (my bro and sis were my biggest role models), and at the end, be one of their best friends. there are other small rewards ofcourse. i remember when i was tested for my speed in one of the lower classes, my PT teacher stared at me in wonder- i was easily one of the fastest in class without any "training". well, i knew my secret...i "trained" myself during those sweaty moments i played catch-catch with my older siblings....

living with psychotics and neurotics(part 2)

this is my normal routine on days when my hair proves to be too difficult to manage- i sit back and watch everyone dressing up for college. In the midst of all the bustle (what with all of them wanting to look into the same mirror at the same time, try on the same new lipstick,....) a friend looks at me and asks me to atleast comb my hair. i grin back at her and say that i've already tried combing it twice. she then gives me an exasperated look and goes back to her make-up while i think to myself, "what the heck! who cares..."

WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF FANTASY (part 2)

were there times when you've looked at yourself in the mirror and pretended to be someone else...someone you've admired a lot (be it fictional or real)?... my latest obsession is eowyn, the niece of the king of rohan, from the lotr movie. i must say, the scene in which she kills the nazgul and the way she bravely goes on with life and finds true love after arargon gently turns her down is sooooooooo inspiring! (i hate girls who pamper their wounded hearts after some dope ditches them and act like as if it is the end of the world. i mean, c'mon, get a life!). infact i like her even more than i like arwen (if i've gotta look as beautiful and elegant as arwen, i'd have to sit in front of the mirror all day! atleast i can reach upto eowyn's standard when she's at war, with her hair standing out on all sides and in that large soldier's outfit). well, here i am slashing away with an imaginary sword and riding on a war horse (which is my bedpost).... i then get a glimpse of myself in the mirror and say to myself, "get real!".......

WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF FANTASY!! (part 1)

all this time i thought living in a fantasy world is normal...well, it is, to a certain degree...but too much of it will make you a lunatic. some people have become "mad" coz they've indulged a bit too much in the world of fantasy. when reality hit me hard and when my best friend in college tried hard to get my feet back on the ground (or was it there before?), i realised that the world around me is quite different. good does not always win...men with good faith do not always meet a good end..some people seem luckier...sometimes the truth is not so clear or pleasant... there's nobody who's totally good or totally bad...sometimes the handsome prince might not kiss sleeping beauty...sometimes the beast might not find a belle...sometimes the witch will suceed in killing snowhite...sometimes a genie might not pop out of an old rustic lamp...

living with psychotics and neurotics(part 1)

final year in college was fun. although all of us knew that we had a relatively fuzzy idea of psychology, we could look at people straight in the eye and say without uttering a word-"i know what yor are hiding from me". i still remember the sweaty moments we've spent in class, trying to grasp all the psychological terms and trying to recollect what we've studied for the last 2 years (since everything we learn is connected, teachers keep irritating us by asking questions like, "so who knows the definition/ meaning /interpretation, etc..of....?"). class hours were difficult not only because we had to plod through our memory bins often but also because they were shocking moments of revelation - everyone we knew (including ourselves) seemed to have a cluster of very serious mental disorders or syndromes. those moments of torture were spent only during class hours though (between which we had 5 minutes breaks to give our brains a little rest). once we go back to the hostel we'd get rid of all that class rubbish the way we get rid of our outgoing dresses and put on the carefree attitude, the way we put on our hostel rags....

CALL IT GENERATION GAP

as days pass, i can't help but notice the difference in opinions, likes, dislikes, tastes, priorities and interests between my mum and myself. yesterday, while coming back home from music classes, mum was dreamily looking at the colourful fishes displayed in the pet shop we were passing by. when she realised that i was looking at her, she said grimly, "hhmmm, just thought of buying some fish to keep me company...". "FISH!! wouldn't a dog or a cat or a bird or something that responds to human affection be better? even a turtle or a rabbit will do!". to that my mum replied, "ugh! the dirt and the mess they make...better not to have one than to clean all that mess!". I grin to myself and think, "weird! i guess it's a only a matter of having different tastes"

1 day later...

as i sit back to stretch my fingers (while working on this post), the screen saver appears in front of me (one of the first things mum learnt while learning the basics in computer was on how to change the desktop background and screen saver) and i see a lot of fishes "uugu, ugu"ing at me. oh how boooorriiinggg!! somehow i felt like as if mum MUST have been thinking about the money involved...surely a horse or a dog or anythingelse would be better....

WALKING THE STREETS OF BANGALORE

after my final exams were over we (my pap, mum and myself) had planned to stay with my big bro in bangalore for a few days and eeehhhhhh....aha! yea, cheer him up. i wasn't really looking forward to it, not because i didn't like my big bro or the place (infact i love both), but because i knew i would be all cooped up at home with nothing to do (if you do not take the cleaning of the dishes and cutting of vegetables into consideration). the first few days in bangalore went as predicted... i had to help my mum clean the entire place and arrange things- you know put all the things in their proper places (the fridge was used as a shelf). what with the frequent power cuts and water shortage, and being the victim of parental woes and frustrations, i was going insane. after 2 or 3 days i started adapting- i'd get up in the morning, say a little prayer to help keep my cool and to say hi to the Big Man up there (yyyyyyohhhhoooooo! i'm hheeeeeerrrreeee!), listen to music on my walkman (remember no electricity most of the time in the morning), read books(yawn, why am i feeling sleepy?), and watch LOTR( when pap is not at home and when mum doesn't have anything for me to do and when there's electricity and when i don't have to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom). adapting to the home environment in bangalore helped me to appreciate darwin's theory of the "survival of the fittest". my boring routine changed a bit, when my big bro, after having come back from work one day, offered to show me around. i jumped at the offer, ofcourse (although i acted like as if i wasn't really interested, just in case mum thought i was upto some kind of mischief).

AND THE STORY BEGINS- the first time we went for a walk, it was a little awkward. what with all the noise and distractions(including instances in which some belle passes by and my big bro's eyes glazes) i talked in a rather loud voice. it must've been real bad because in the middle of our conversation, when i had decidedly made a statement about something i strongly believed, my brotherly grimly replied, "great, you just broadcasted that, live!".

i used to wait all morning for these afternoon walks. i looked at it as an opportunity to exercise my legs, breath in the city air(can't call the air "fresh", can i?) and exchange ideas with big bro. while we walked we talked and talked about everything and anything-ranging from very serious matters like what we would like to be one day to less serious ones like, "hey ponni, what would you do if a guy does this/ says that...?". as a side buisness, we'd take different routes to have a good look around and avoid uncle X(a friendly old man who likes to talk a lot), comment on the people around(hey, check out that guy trying to look cool), become friendly with the kids in the block(noticed how cute kids look when they are shy?)...

just when life was becoming a little more enjoyable, it was time to leave....big bro waved us goodbye in the airport while pappa and mummy were trying hard to hold back their tears (what will the little boy do when we go?) and while i waved back cheerfully to convey the message-live life to the full, big bro!

TO THE MOON AND BACK

i'm sitting in front of the doctor and the doctor very seriously explains to my parents that a surgery must be done to remove my thyroid gland. i try to look serious and frightened just in case people around me think that i'm mad to be excited and happy to have my throat cut. as time goes by i find it difficult to put on an act and be myself. my parents think i'm trying to be brave and indifferent to the expected pain. (sigh! when will they ever inderstand me)
finally the surgery day arrives and i'm lying on the "trolley" to be rolled to the operation theatre. my mum has tears in her eyes and my big boss(father) kisses me on my forehead (the first time i remember boss kissing me). a few of my close relatives had come to see me like as if i was a dead body or something from the mortuary. on the whole i thought everybody was over reacting.
in the room opposite operation theatre i get down from the trolley and have an interview with the anaesthetist. i then get on the trolley and lie down wondering why they had to roll me all the way to the operation theatre when i could've simply walked to the theatre (hhmmmm, maybe they wanted to convince my parents that they were providing quality service).
i'm then rolled into the main room where the surgery is conducted. i see four green people with masks and everything (hey, friendly green aliens). among them i recognise the friendly anesthetist and give her a drowsy smile........
everthing is the same, only thing my lids feel like iron. i hear everything the doctors are talking about-music, films, hot gossips,etc...after a few mins i realise that they've already started cutting my throat and i start having a slight burning sensation which progressively increases. hey, din't my parents say i wouldn't be FEELING anything...that i would be TOTALLY unconscious? BY GOD!! they've got it all wrong!!i'm NOT unconscious.........

i wake up to a slap on my cheek and try to open my eyes..."what's your name?"....."huh?"...."what's your name?"..."RENI, like duh!"....surely my name is being written in the book of life at the moment....

i wake up (again) and i'm connected to tubes all round me (two from my chest and one from my throat to collect the blood oozing from the incision and another tube on my hand connected to the liquid glucose drip). i look down at myself and grimly think that i should've waxed my legs. all thoughts of looking elegant vanishes when the drug's effect wanes and the pain increases....well, so much for a great experience...

COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS

sometimes you get lucky when you least expect to. there were times when you just sit idly and....whhoooossshhh...you're that lucky person. now i'm not talking about getting as lucky as winning a lottery or anything....it is about getting lucky in the long run. for instance, when i look back to my school and college life, i never actually achieved anything GREAT. i was always a simpleton who liked to marvel at small things and enjoy the moment. on the outside though, i stalked around like an impatient beast complaining about how boring life could be and about the little (or nil, according to me) freedom i'm granted. but there were some things i experienced to the full. when it comes to having good friends, i win...and a loving family, i win...and averaging in class without putting in much effort, i win...
hhmmm, befor you go green, i'd like to say, being lucky though, doesn't necessarily mean i'll continue being lucky. one day my luck might turn and i'll be all dazed, standing in the middle of nowhere, wondering what hit me...

WHERE DO I BELONG

being a NRI is difficult. i remember during my school years making the solemn promise to not even think of doing further studies in kerala. and where do i find myself after high school?-in the heart of kerala.....

3 years later.....

i've finally completed my bachelors and i'm back "home". looking back, i feel, college life was not so bad...in fact, it wasn't bad at all. true, staying in kerala meant staying in a godamn traditional hostel with limited facilities and freedom. but i did have fun. i remember the times i used to literally fool around with my friends, try juggling studies and various kinds of competitions, constantly trying to be in the good books of my teachers (not that i cared about my reputation, but had to somehow scrape through without my parents noticing me doing illegal stuff), getting along quit well with the warden and the other sisters (bless their souls) at certain times, getting in and out of a crush (now THAT was exciting)....

Each friend i made there was special. True, they could be stupid at times, but hey, even i 'm a disaster when it's full moon (i like thinking of myself as a were-wolf. dunno why, but it sounds cool). My best friend in college for example, was dead stubborn, obstinate, immovable, thought she was Ms. right, impulsive, brain-dead when it came to listening to other people's opinions but above all she was the most kindly, helpful and smartest soul when it came to maintaining our relationship and boosting my spirits.

sigh! have to say goodbye to those good old days though.....all good things should come to an end, i guess. Don't worry my dear tender heart, my preciousssssss, we'll move on.....coz there are still a lot many people out there waiting to be our friend...let's say goodbye to the past and embrace the futur....

ON PARENTAL BICKERING

it's amazing how most parents have the great talent of telling the exact wrong words at exactly the wrong time. tis somethin of a natural inborn tendency or urge. they don't seem to be able to control themselves. the most irritating part is the way they seem to sometimes appear very cool and casual about it. And when we flare up because of the injustice of it all they ask us in a more or less friendly manner or at times utterly shocked or confused manner, "why are you getting so angry about it?"
pah!!life can be made very miserable without anything to really bother you.
Well, here's an example:
Scene 1: I'm peacefully sitting in front of the computer and watching the movie -The Lord of The Rings- (wearing the headphones and all), when Mum comes in and asks me to help her a little with the chores.
Mum: you could be a bit more cheerful when your helping your mother, you know.
Me: mumble,mumble...(she could have asked me to do it before i sat in front of the computer and when i had absolutely nothing to do)
Scene 2: i finally finish doing the eennyyy wwiiinny chores in the kitchen and go back to the movie.
Mum comes along....
Mum: oh my God, the old man's a bad guy!
Me: no, mummy. The old man no. 1 is a good guy (Gandalf). this is another old man, old man no. 2 (Saruman).
Mum: hum...thum...ugh...phew....(during the fighting scenes)
Me: mumble, mumble..(can't mum just leave me alone....)
Mum: and the little children go on...
Me: they are not children mummy, they're hobbits...little hmmm..... creatures...not little homosapiens
Mum: HOBBITS! whatever that is! (in that most irritating surprise intonation)
Me: THAT'S WHAT I SAID..LITTLE CREATURES..LITTLE CREATURES...
Mum: why are you getting angry... i was just asking...
Me: and i was telling it to you louder to make you understand...
Mum: but you also look angry...don't you know it's so obvious when you get angry..blah, blah. blah,...you should know how to control your emotions...blah, blah, blah... it is important to respect your parents...blah, blah, blah.....
Me: but...
Mum: listen to me....blah, blah, blah.......
i shut up and try to concentrate on the movie
Me to myself: shit! this wouldn't have happened if i had not said anything in the first place and looked calm and composed.

AN INTRO

hey there!!! just wanna introduce myself and the purpose of this blog briefly. i must admit, the 1st time i was introduced to this blog buisness i wasn't really interested. i'm not in the least a person who knows how to express his/her ideas in writing (or rather typing). must also admit the fact that i'm quite ignorant in expressing my thoughts in any way. but one thing i realised was that all bloggers do get a chance to go on and on blabbering about what interests them and what may at the same time bore the majority.hey, you can't interrupt me in any way, even if you wanted to, can you? i could go on and on typing without disrupting your freedom (you could simply ignore me entirely with just a click of the mouse).
Now, coming to the purpose of this blog. it's clear from the name that i'd be publishing things of no great importance but at the same time give you something to muse on. Something that does not have substance, may not be able to get you a job, or extra cash, or the girl /guy of your dreams,or anything that is important to you. for those who are very particular about the english grammar and vocabulary, i must warn you, don't be surprised if i make huge blunders while communicating.......grammar was never my strong point....i just use words and phrases that sounds good....your corrections are always welcome. i'm the kind of person who learns from mistakes.
bitey bye for now