I looked through my blog today. Nothing had changed. I hate stagnation so I decided to do something about it. And I did.
I CHANGED THE TEMPLATE! (Inspiring or what!)
Rudely shoving the self-ridicule aside with a thick skinned hand, I bring the focus onto the 'parchmenty', 18th century style layout that has me thrilled out of my wits. The whole thing seems to make my blog so intellectual ... as if it speaks of a wisdom so old and treasured only few have the honour of reading it.
And then, many MANY years from now, some sad sap of a sailor will find it rolled up in a bejewelled box. He will scratch his head (hopefully not anywhere else) and gaze at what his watery brain is telling him is a treasure not to be lost. He grins... revealing a gold tooth (not much else). The parchment finds its way to the great archives of the Vatican, where it will be sealed away till some scholarly person finds it and writes a book about it. The 'Greju code' is published amid much secrecy and controversy. Questions are asked, web sites are created, stalkers are followed, psychos are jailed, priests are pissed off, nuns are livid, hostelers are thrilled...
As for me... I'll still be around; old, wrinkly and STILL grumpy- beating my miserable great grand kids into making me a cup of tea. Sans Arsenic.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
"Let there be Morning People"
After many months of absence, I once again enter the dotted portals of my blog. Diwali has arrived, and along with it comes a much needed holiday.
And i wonder what to crib about this time.
“I’m not a morning person. I never was, and I never will be.
All future lovers can go hop! (Or fetch tea in aid of self preservation.)”
- Sneha Stephen, 2007
There are two types of people in this world; those who are morning people and those who are not.
I like to sleep late. When I have to wake up early, I am not nice.
When I do wake up, I need ten minutes for my brain to realise it is expected to think. After which I need 15 minutes of uninterrupted staring time and a bucket of tea to get into some working condition. Through all this, I can be a little unpleasant.
Ok, very unpleasant.
That’s just the way God made me.
Once he made me, he decided to turn comedic. Chuckling evilly, he whipped up a few of the ‘Morning people’.
Morning people are a species to beware of. They wake up early, are totally organised, have a nasty habit of being cheerful and a disgusting tendency to skip around gaily singing ‘Good Morning’ to all and sundry.
My father (a version of the morning person), has been trying for 22 years to convert me. So far he has only succeeded in getting a few grunts of disgust. He truly believes in the power of early morning activities - running, yoga, bowel cleansing, hydration, breathing, exercise, study, planning, walking, etc and bloody etc.
He also truly believes in being painfully vocal about it - IN THE MORNING!
Hey, I’m open minded…i'll admit its a flaw. I like to sleep late. So what? Its not like I smoke pot or spread hideous diseases while I’m at it!
Grand statements notwithstanding, I am powerless in the face of parental lectures. No amount of grunting and yelling will stop them.
So the saga continues.
And God chuckles evilly.
And i wonder what to crib about this time.
“I’m not a morning person. I never was, and I never will be.
All future lovers can go hop! (Or fetch tea in aid of self preservation.)”
- Sneha Stephen, 2007
There are two types of people in this world; those who are morning people and those who are not.
I like to sleep late. When I have to wake up early, I am not nice.
When I do wake up, I need ten minutes for my brain to realise it is expected to think. After which I need 15 minutes of uninterrupted staring time and a bucket of tea to get into some working condition. Through all this, I can be a little unpleasant.
Ok, very unpleasant.
That’s just the way God made me.
Once he made me, he decided to turn comedic. Chuckling evilly, he whipped up a few of the ‘Morning people’.
Morning people are a species to beware of. They wake up early, are totally organised, have a nasty habit of being cheerful and a disgusting tendency to skip around gaily singing ‘Good Morning’ to all and sundry.
My father (a version of the morning person), has been trying for 22 years to convert me. So far he has only succeeded in getting a few grunts of disgust. He truly believes in the power of early morning activities - running, yoga, bowel cleansing, hydration, breathing, exercise, study, planning, walking, etc and bloody etc.
He also truly believes in being painfully vocal about it - IN THE MORNING!
Hey, I’m open minded…i'll admit its a flaw. I like to sleep late. So what? Its not like I smoke pot or spread hideous diseases while I’m at it!
Grand statements notwithstanding, I am powerless in the face of parental lectures. No amount of grunting and yelling will stop them.
So the saga continues.
And God chuckles evilly.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
10 minute monsoons
For the past two years, Chennai has been experiencing a refresher course of the cyclones from ten years ago - flooded roads, numerous accidents, petrified traffic cops, delighted floaty worms, sodden citizens and large scale chaos - quite the reminder.
You'd think all this would entice the 'city elders' to leap into action to repair and prevent. The repair consisted of filling the numerous mud holes with the very latest in road maintenance material - MUD.
Yes, yes I know what you're thinking; but I say now all ye skeptics, there is logic behind everything that the wise elders do. The mud is eco-friendly. The mud is easy to clean. The mud flows ever so beautifully to cover the open drains... two birds, one stone.
(Dripping) Sarcasm apart, Chennai doesn't need earth shattering rainstorms to panic. Today, it rained for about 10 minutes. In that short span of time, our wondrous city had turned itself into a virtual water park! No no, not magic... just hideous town planning. While driving through flooded roads, bumper to bumper traffic and quacking schoolchildren (asking for an early death), I was AMAZED at the rapid change. One minute it was sunny with everyone their usual insane self, the next it was... THIS.
'Why?' I wondered. Can the elders not see the effects of their senile inactivity? Do they not notice the chaos over their folded palms when they zip past in their motorcade of a 1000 vehicles? Do they not realise the sunglasses are doing nothing to plug potholes?
I had to stop the in depth analysis long enough to give an exceedingly dirty, snaky look to a man in an SUV trying to edge himself into a space clearly meant for a two-wheeler. Not that I have a problem with people who dream - it just hurts my heart when 'things' hurt my car.
Finally I got out of the mess and was swiftly on my way home. Or at least that's what I thought. A group of schoolboys decided to curb my enthusiasm by standing in the middle of the road, practicing the fine art of deafness. I thought it was instinctively understood that the universal meaning of a blaring horn right behind your ass means 'GET OUTTA THE WAY U BRAINLESS HALF SIZED PEDESTRIAN'!!!
But I guess I was wrong. The right sign for that message was splashing them with not a small amount of puddle water. Hmmmm...
This time it was an accident. Next time, it'll be conscious.
Ten minute rains bring out the devil in me.
You'd think all this would entice the 'city elders' to leap into action to repair and prevent. The repair consisted of filling the numerous mud holes with the very latest in road maintenance material - MUD.
Yes, yes I know what you're thinking; but I say now all ye skeptics, there is logic behind everything that the wise elders do. The mud is eco-friendly. The mud is easy to clean. The mud flows ever so beautifully to cover the open drains... two birds, one stone.
(Dripping) Sarcasm apart, Chennai doesn't need earth shattering rainstorms to panic. Today, it rained for about 10 minutes. In that short span of time, our wondrous city had turned itself into a virtual water park! No no, not magic... just hideous town planning. While driving through flooded roads, bumper to bumper traffic and quacking schoolchildren (asking for an early death), I was AMAZED at the rapid change. One minute it was sunny with everyone their usual insane self, the next it was... THIS.
'Why?' I wondered. Can the elders not see the effects of their senile inactivity? Do they not notice the chaos over their folded palms when they zip past in their motorcade of a 1000 vehicles? Do they not realise the sunglasses are doing nothing to plug potholes?
I had to stop the in depth analysis long enough to give an exceedingly dirty, snaky look to a man in an SUV trying to edge himself into a space clearly meant for a two-wheeler. Not that I have a problem with people who dream - it just hurts my heart when 'things' hurt my car.
Finally I got out of the mess and was swiftly on my way home. Or at least that's what I thought. A group of schoolboys decided to curb my enthusiasm by standing in the middle of the road, practicing the fine art of deafness. I thought it was instinctively understood that the universal meaning of a blaring horn right behind your ass means 'GET OUTTA THE WAY U BRAINLESS HALF SIZED PEDESTRIAN'!!!
But I guess I was wrong. The right sign for that message was splashing them with not a small amount of puddle water. Hmmmm...
This time it was an accident. Next time, it'll be conscious.
Ten minute rains bring out the devil in me.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
independence
Today, the 15th of august 2007, India becomes 60 years old.
Today, the 15th of august 2007, Stella Maris Collage becomes 60 years old. ( I HAD to mention that)
1 billion people come together to celebrate...crossed flags stuck onto your bonnet with dirty little tape bits, beggars accusing you of being unpatriotic for refusing to give them money (only 5 Rs. or more accepted), Spencer 'Plasa' overflowing with rail hugging patriots and the good ol'sun beating down on our skin a little harder to remind us of our delightful freedom.
Yes, independence does bring out the best in us; but it all pales in comparison to the Lifestyle Sale. Citicentre had turned into a cesspool of miserably jobless humans, clamouring to absorb all the 'air conditioning' they possibly could to avoid the treacherous heat. Even more miserably enough... I was one of them.
There I was, stomping after my mother, who oblivious to all the madness, was squealing in delight at a Salwar that was 40% off. While I mumbled a nondescript reply to our 'wonderful good fortune', I caught myself thinking of any excuse to get out of that goddamn place -
I have work
I have to pee
I'm going to faint
The mannequin is giving me a self esteem problem
My pants have ripped
Public places are unsafe on national holidays
The valet looked shifty
My feet are going to explode...
while all this was running through my severely tortured brain - my mother turns to me and says
"you want to eat something?"
SUDDENLY... the crowds seem to shrink, the formerly idiotic attendants began to look endearingly polite, the sale seemed totally worth it, my head didn't feel like exploding and my mom and her wallet gleamed like angels of a very benevolent god.
I nodded, she paid, we ate, I smiled, my car didn't explode... and I'm home.
The valet is my new best friend.
Today, the 15th of august 2007, Stella Maris Collage becomes 60 years old. ( I HAD to mention that)
1 billion people come together to celebrate...crossed flags stuck onto your bonnet with dirty little tape bits, beggars accusing you of being unpatriotic for refusing to give them money (only 5 Rs. or more accepted), Spencer 'Plasa' overflowing with rail hugging patriots and the good ol'sun beating down on our skin a little harder to remind us of our delightful freedom.
Yes, independence does bring out the best in us; but it all pales in comparison to the Lifestyle Sale. Citicentre had turned into a cesspool of miserably jobless humans, clamouring to absorb all the 'air conditioning' they possibly could to avoid the treacherous heat. Even more miserably enough... I was one of them.
There I was, stomping after my mother, who oblivious to all the madness, was squealing in delight at a Salwar that was 40% off. While I mumbled a nondescript reply to our 'wonderful good fortune', I caught myself thinking of any excuse to get out of that goddamn place -
I have work
I have to pee
I'm going to faint
The mannequin is giving me a self esteem problem
My pants have ripped
Public places are unsafe on national holidays
The valet looked shifty
My feet are going to explode...
while all this was running through my severely tortured brain - my mother turns to me and says
"you want to eat something?"
SUDDENLY... the crowds seem to shrink, the formerly idiotic attendants began to look endearingly polite, the sale seemed totally worth it, my head didn't feel like exploding and my mom and her wallet gleamed like angels of a very benevolent god.
I nodded, she paid, we ate, I smiled, my car didn't explode... and I'm home.
The valet is my new best friend.
Monday, August 13, 2007
online outpourings of the cribbing heart
The day has finally come when I have applied myself to starting a blog. Truth be told, it was due to inspiration from a friend, of the 'bestest' variety, whose ramblings were (quite disgustingly) interesting and funny.
But what hooked me so marvelously, was how easy it was to blabber on about yourself and your mundane activities and thoughts, and get people to like it! THAT, people, is true happiness.
And so, here i am 'Buddha-fying myself' by starting a spanking new blog. The path to enlightenment was amazingly short(it took me 20 minutes to be convinced)... but nirvana seems to be sitting on me quite well!
PS: The title has been changed due to the 'constructive criticism' received by a well wisher. hope this one pleases the eye.
But what hooked me so marvelously, was how easy it was to blabber on about yourself and your mundane activities and thoughts, and get people to like it! THAT, people, is true happiness.
And so, here i am 'Buddha-fying myself' by starting a spanking new blog. The path to enlightenment was amazingly short(it took me 20 minutes to be convinced)... but nirvana seems to be sitting on me quite well!
PS: The title has been changed due to the 'constructive criticism' received by a well wisher. hope this one pleases the eye.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)