- Salted peanuts and sticky tape
- One lemon, coriander and kitchen foil
- Potatoes, onions and a reindeer soft-toy
- A croissant and a pen
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Weird Customer
On most days, I only have myself to shop for. And since I tend to not stock groceries for the week but rather as and when I need them, I noticed that my shopping basket would be a rather fascinating thing to observe on any given day. The explanations that could be imagined for my buying those items in that combination might be even more entertaining. Among other things, a random shopping trip has ended up with me buying:
Monday, October 20, 2008
Oh Brother!
The Bennett sisters might have had it very different if they'd had a brother.
Aside from the fact that there would be no entailment or money issues per se, that is.
Actually, the Bakshis from Bride and Prejudice might be a more relevant case-in-point here than the original Bennets. Either way, George Wickham would have had to face an enraged brother who dealt him a swift punch rather than the classy Mr.Darcy who bought his consent. Or in the Indian case, an enraged brother and a horde of his friends who would leave no stone unturned in hunting the vile Wickham down and serving him his just desserts. But that's still not the point.
The point is, Elizabeth Bennet would have been a very different person had she had a brother. As would her sisters. A brother would have tried the patience of even a saintly creature like Jane for starters and she wouldn't have been quite the same shy thing she was. But when childhood had passed and pulling pig-tails and upsetting buckets of water over each other had faded into memory, and in the place of children would be adults dealing with their own issues... things would have changed way beyond their ken.
A brother would have influenced Lizzy choice of partner more and perhaps even equipped her with the requisite skill to deal with a personality like Mr. Darcy in a more adept manner. Which would be well. Except that, putting aside the brother's opinion of the suitor(s), brother and sister would have been sure to wonder at some point 'Where did it go? When? What did we lose and why does this feel uncomfortable now?'
I've noticed this in my immediate circle at least. Brothers tend to get a bit weird over time. They will praise their female siblings (or close cousins) to the highest skies, especially in front of girlfriends (thereby creating impossible expectations to be met and fostering just the slightest resentment between the parites which, depending on their personality and compatibility, said female parties will then try to bridge, or not)... but when that is done, they forget that they might like something about the same sister. More often, the case is that the brother in question is going to be stuck on some point of disagreement and instead of accepting that the sister is an individual and is therefore allowed her opinions, thoughts, feelings, way of doing things — entitled to these things — choose to fester in resentment over the fact that the sister isn't as they thought or expected her to be.
"She isn't social enough"
"She isn't traditional enough"
And more such complaints. In a sense, they do show concern... concern that the sister might be jeopardising her chances in life somehow by not adhering to these things. But that view still doesn't do justice for wholly ignoring the desires of the female in question. What if she likes being reclusive... maybe she's happier this way. Do you not then, want her to be happy? Would you honestly rather she makes an extra effort to be social or traditional or whatever, all the while grimacing and wincing inside that somehow she had been let down by someone she thought she could trust and be her self around. Someone who is family.
Scout Finch got yelled at by Jem for not acting like a girl enough. And yet, she became a lady — without even him knowing it.
Aside from the fact that there would be no entailment or money issues per se, that is.
Actually, the Bakshis from Bride and Prejudice might be a more relevant case-in-point here than the original Bennets. Either way, George Wickham would have had to face an enraged brother who dealt him a swift punch rather than the classy Mr.Darcy who bought his consent. Or in the Indian case, an enraged brother and a horde of his friends who would leave no stone unturned in hunting the vile Wickham down and serving him his just desserts. But that's still not the point.
The point is, Elizabeth Bennet would have been a very different person had she had a brother. As would her sisters. A brother would have tried the patience of even a saintly creature like Jane for starters and she wouldn't have been quite the same shy thing she was. But when childhood had passed and pulling pig-tails and upsetting buckets of water over each other had faded into memory, and in the place of children would be adults dealing with their own issues... things would have changed way beyond their ken.
A brother would have influenced Lizzy choice of partner more and perhaps even equipped her with the requisite skill to deal with a personality like Mr. Darcy in a more adept manner. Which would be well. Except that, putting aside the brother's opinion of the suitor(s), brother and sister would have been sure to wonder at some point 'Where did it go? When? What did we lose and why does this feel uncomfortable now?'
I've noticed this in my immediate circle at least. Brothers tend to get a bit weird over time. They will praise their female siblings (or close cousins) to the highest skies, especially in front of girlfriends (thereby creating impossible expectations to be met and fostering just the slightest resentment between the parites which, depending on their personality and compatibility, said female parties will then try to bridge, or not)... but when that is done, they forget that they might like something about the same sister. More often, the case is that the brother in question is going to be stuck on some point of disagreement and instead of accepting that the sister is an individual and is therefore allowed her opinions, thoughts, feelings, way of doing things — entitled to these things — choose to fester in resentment over the fact that the sister isn't as they thought or expected her to be.
"She isn't social enough"
"She isn't traditional enough"
And more such complaints. In a sense, they do show concern... concern that the sister might be jeopardising her chances in life somehow by not adhering to these things. But that view still doesn't do justice for wholly ignoring the desires of the female in question. What if she likes being reclusive... maybe she's happier this way. Do you not then, want her to be happy? Would you honestly rather she makes an extra effort to be social or traditional or whatever, all the while grimacing and wincing inside that somehow she had been let down by someone she thought she could trust and be her self around. Someone who is family.
Scout Finch got yelled at by Jem for not acting like a girl enough. And yet, she became a lady — without even him knowing it.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Naam-Karan
Indian names might come across as rather funny (or scary, depending on your POV) as JV, one of my favourite bloggers, once pointed out. Fair enough. They're hard to pronounce, have all these hi-fundoo meanings, a million variations in spelling and well, for someone used to a much simpler nomenclature system, they can be quite daunting.
But... (There has to be a but, of course, but of course!) Who said we Indians ourselves had to have it any easier? Okay perhaps not easier, but... in anyway different. There are a few names out there which leave you absolutely puzzled, when the meaning is taken into consideration. Such as:
Abhinetri: What?! Who would name their child 'actress'??!! And why??!!!
Suvidha: Really? Seriously?! You want to name your child 'facility'?! G's response when I told her about this one was "Imagine someone calls her and she isn't around... they'd get this message: Yah Suvidha is waqt upalabdh nahi hai, kripaya thodi der baad koshish karen.'"
Adhunika (Galadriel's contribution): She tells me it relates to technological development... I cannot think of any suitable retort to it actually.
And let's not even go into whether and how people do live up to their names, or not.
My sanskrit teacher once said that 'Savita' was technically a male name. I'm yet to confirm this, but if it's true... then all thr women we know called 'Savita' are in for a big jolt :P
You got any funny names to contribute?
But... (There has to be a but, of course, but of course!) Who said we Indians ourselves had to have it any easier? Okay perhaps not easier, but... in anyway different. There are a few names out there which leave you absolutely puzzled, when the meaning is taken into consideration. Such as:
Abhinetri: What?! Who would name their child 'actress'??!! And why??!!!
Suvidha: Really? Seriously?! You want to name your child 'facility'?! G's response when I told her about this one was "Imagine someone calls her and she isn't around... they'd get this message: Yah Suvidha is waqt upalabdh nahi hai, kripaya thodi der baad koshish karen.'"
Adhunika (Galadriel's contribution): She tells me it relates to technological development... I cannot think of any suitable retort to it actually.
And let's not even go into whether and how people do live up to their names, or not.
My sanskrit teacher once said that 'Savita' was technically a male name. I'm yet to confirm this, but if it's true... then all thr women we know called 'Savita' are in for a big jolt :P
You got any funny names to contribute?
Sunday, October 12, 2008
And So the Madness Begins!
So, guess who's in town?! :D
Madness is now officially here as she herself declared and it started at about 10 this morning, which was when she set foot on English soil. Or airport tarmarc, if you will.*
I was a whole hour late in actually meeting her (in my defense, I expected her flight to land on time if not late and immigration formalities to take some more time therefore my timing of arrival would have been perfect as I planned) all the same... I am terribly sorry for being late and I apologise. I'm yet to get a proper account of that hour but I did get the gist that it involved her panicking thinking I wouldn't turn up, and if I did, I'd miss her because she wasn't standing where I'd requested that she do. I hereby decalre publicly that I'm a woman of my word and you may rely on me to do what I have promised, come hell or high water. Unless you piss me off that is.
Anyway, so we met and greeted each other like, as my darling dad puts it, a pair of fighting cats — there was much high pitched screeching involved. Quite apt if you ask me. There were also warm hugs and great grins and she did say something for me being ate but I only caught the end of the sentence which was '... bitch!'. So yes, happy union all around. Oh and she also let go of her trolley when she saw me and ran to hug me, so the trolley promptly careened and crashed into the nearest guy standing. Not that we cared much.
And then we went out and waited for the cab to come pick us up. Which took its time and in the meantime all we had to identify it was 'It's a red Fiat'. Neither of us being conversant in car company logos, we stuck to the colour red and gathered much entertainment out of looking out for every red car passing by and peeking inside. Eventually our cab did arrive and the driver was a rather dashing looking young man in a suit. For a full two seconds I thought it must be a mistake that the guy in the suit was going to drive us... he looked more like the city boy types who was about to take his girl on a date... but no, it was indeed the driver. He lugged Rayshma's luggage, stowed it. Let us sette down in the backseat and after asking for the required locaton details... started off. And we resumed conversation. Or we would have anyway, if driverboy would have let us. He wanted to know where we were from, if it was our first time in London, oh okay so I live here... and then he promptly switched the radio to some channel that was playing hindi music and told us that he understood and spoke these many languages and was Afghani and Rayshma and I nodded seriously and said'Impressive' as was obviously expected of us. He then realised we were not about to actually talk much to him and concentrated on his driving. Sorry driverboy, we really would have liked to talk to you... but we had a lot to catch up on ourselves. Perhaps next time. Oh ya, Rayshma's hubby called in the middle of all this and I got confused since the display had her name and asked 'Why are you calling me?!' and she said 'Arre mera pati hoga na!' and then proceeded to have a wifely conversation which involved mock-scolding him saying 'Liar!'.
Landing at her PG played out into a whole new story in itself. Apparently her place hadn't actually been booked and had we not turned up when we did, she'd not have had a place at all. But we did and that was that. The landlord freaked us both out somewhat. An elderly desi, he was rather fussy and flighty... insisted on stowing her bags (very heavy bags I must add), told her she wouldn't have to worry at all about anything, insisted on making tea for us and chatted 100 to the dozen in the midst of all this. When we went to have tea, in the dining room (He's extremely meticulous), the table was set very nicely with individual place settings, coffee for her and bowls and plates for us all and a million different snacks. He piled our plates high and insisted we eat and... whew. He sounds very nice... but I'm here to tell you, the sooner she moves out the better for us all.
Then, having firmly said she wasn't coming back for dinner, we set out and I showed her how the transport works and stuff... I'm sure I confused her more than I helped :P
In very short, we got to central London and did loads of vellapanti, walking around, had very lovely cocktails in this bar in Leicester Sq, had dinner at the nearby italian where I came up with the most insane ideas for restaurant policy regarding finger bowls, and then I saw her off on the tube to her place. I should let her fill you in on details.
All in all, I am extremely happy she is here and over the moon that I shall have company to be my mad mad self around. (We actually meowed at Victoria and the company we were with had to pretend they didn't know us :P)
So, welcome to London Rayshma... I hope this will turn into a long term stay!
* I only just realised that the 'will' in 'If you will' indicates choice rather than action. How daft, I know.
Rayshma!!!!!
Madness is now officially here as she herself declared and it started at about 10 this morning, which was when she set foot on English soil. Or airport tarmarc, if you will.*
I was a whole hour late in actually meeting her (in my defense, I expected her flight to land on time if not late and immigration formalities to take some more time therefore my timing of arrival would have been perfect as I planned) all the same... I am terribly sorry for being late and I apologise. I'm yet to get a proper account of that hour but I did get the gist that it involved her panicking thinking I wouldn't turn up, and if I did, I'd miss her because she wasn't standing where I'd requested that she do. I hereby decalre publicly that I'm a woman of my word and you may rely on me to do what I have promised, come hell or high water. Unless you piss me off that is.
Anyway, so we met and greeted each other like, as my darling dad puts it, a pair of fighting cats — there was much high pitched screeching involved. Quite apt if you ask me. There were also warm hugs and great grins and she did say something for me being ate but I only caught the end of the sentence which was '... bitch!'. So yes, happy union all around. Oh and she also let go of her trolley when she saw me and ran to hug me, so the trolley promptly careened and crashed into the nearest guy standing. Not that we cared much.
And then we went out and waited for the cab to come pick us up. Which took its time and in the meantime all we had to identify it was 'It's a red Fiat'. Neither of us being conversant in car company logos, we stuck to the colour red and gathered much entertainment out of looking out for every red car passing by and peeking inside. Eventually our cab did arrive and the driver was a rather dashing looking young man in a suit. For a full two seconds I thought it must be a mistake that the guy in the suit was going to drive us... he looked more like the city boy types who was about to take his girl on a date... but no, it was indeed the driver. He lugged Rayshma's luggage, stowed it. Let us sette down in the backseat and after asking for the required locaton details... started off. And we resumed conversation. Or we would have anyway, if driverboy would have let us. He wanted to know where we were from, if it was our first time in London, oh okay so I live here... and then he promptly switched the radio to some channel that was playing hindi music and told us that he understood and spoke these many languages and was Afghani and Rayshma and I nodded seriously and said'Impressive' as was obviously expected of us. He then realised we were not about to actually talk much to him and concentrated on his driving. Sorry driverboy, we really would have liked to talk to you... but we had a lot to catch up on ourselves. Perhaps next time. Oh ya, Rayshma's hubby called in the middle of all this and I got confused since the display had her name and asked 'Why are you calling me?!' and she said 'Arre mera pati hoga na!' and then proceeded to have a wifely conversation which involved mock-scolding him saying 'Liar!'.
Landing at her PG played out into a whole new story in itself. Apparently her place hadn't actually been booked and had we not turned up when we did, she'd not have had a place at all. But we did and that was that. The landlord freaked us both out somewhat. An elderly desi, he was rather fussy and flighty... insisted on stowing her bags (very heavy bags I must add), told her she wouldn't have to worry at all about anything, insisted on making tea for us and chatted 100 to the dozen in the midst of all this. When we went to have tea, in the dining room (He's extremely meticulous), the table was set very nicely with individual place settings, coffee for her and bowls and plates for us all and a million different snacks. He piled our plates high and insisted we eat and... whew. He sounds very nice... but I'm here to tell you, the sooner she moves out the better for us all.
Then, having firmly said she wasn't coming back for dinner, we set out and I showed her how the transport works and stuff... I'm sure I confused her more than I helped :P
In very short, we got to central London and did loads of vellapanti, walking around, had very lovely cocktails in this bar in Leicester Sq, had dinner at the nearby italian where I came up with the most insane ideas for restaurant policy regarding finger bowls, and then I saw her off on the tube to her place. I should let her fill you in on details.
All in all, I am extremely happy she is here and over the moon that I shall have company to be my mad mad self around. (We actually meowed at Victoria and the company we were with had to pretend they didn't know us :P)
So, welcome to London Rayshma... I hope this will turn into a long term stay!
* I only just realised that the 'will' in 'If you will' indicates choice rather than action. How daft, I know.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Dear Humanity in General
Shut the eff up a minute, lend me your sodding ears so I can scream this out so loud that it gets imprinted on your bleeding brains and you never ever ever forget it.
Do NOT:
Do NOT:
- Be so ungracious as to arrange to meet where is convenient for you to get home from. Think of the other people you're meeting and how they will manage once night has set in, home is far away and brains have been addled by alcohol.
- Ask for classified information/gossip about a friend of the person you are asking. In the least, it isn't tactful at all and makes you look stupid and unreliable. At its worst, you will be blocked from having further contact, the friend shall be warned of your poking around affairs that are not you concern and your name shall be slimed forevermore thereupon.
- Be a pain-in-the-ass house guest. You're being done a favour by your host by being provided space, so behave like it. Don't give unsolicited advice. Don't get too friendly with friends/relatives of your host. Don't dig for gossip about your host. And most importantly, lift a bloody finger around the house to help. Even if there is help available. Offer to make tea if you cannot cook. Put your clothes away and make your bed. ASK before using something that isn't yours. And if you have kids, don't assume the hosts kids will love to share their toys... you're only visiting, don't get too comfortable.
- Repeatedly ask to be picked up when visiting someone. Even the most direction-challenged person can seek help if they have an address ready. And there are maps available. Make an effort to remember routes when visiting. 'I'm so helpless' is bloody lame after two times.
- Repeatedly ask for info you've already been given. My blog url for instance. Check your chat records if you're that eager to read it again. On the other hand, if it really did matter that much, you'd remember it, or bookmark it.
- Hang all over someone who has a partner. PDAs are for partners and family. I don't give two hoots if you're a best friend/rakhi sister/good friend/drunk... keep some distance. Specially if you haven't had a chance to/made an effort to befriend said partner and make them feel included/comfortable. Just because you're friends does not mean you treat the friend like private property. They are definitely not YOUR property so have enough sense to know where to draw the line. Or it will be drawn for you.
- Comment on the apparance/career choice/dressing sense/ANYthing of someone you're only acquainted with. Commenting is not a luxury available to acquaintances.
- Butt in on conversations that do not involve you. Know where to draw the line.
- Dominate conversations/gatherings. 'That's just how I am' is not an excuse.
- Take this missive lightly.
Teenage
is the pupa stage of a human life.
How else do you explain the metamorphosis of an innocent, trusting and open child into a cynical, wordly, materialistic, narrow-minded adult? Six years of self-absorption do it.
How else do you explain the metamorphosis of an innocent, trusting and open child into a cynical, wordly, materialistic, narrow-minded adult? Six years of self-absorption do it.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Who's Joy???
Rayshma and I were talking.
R: they NOW want me to apply for a schengen visa...
me: for what joy?
R: no... so i can travel around once i'm there
...
oh.. sorry.. i thought u meant 'joy' as in my friend Joy
And she thinks playing with blinds is funny :P
R: they NOW want me to apply for a schengen visa...
me: for what joy?
R: no... so i can travel around once i'm there
...
oh.. sorry.. i thought u meant 'joy' as in my friend Joy
And she thinks playing with blinds is funny :P
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