The one where i am fascinated.

Sometimes the simplest of things will trigger of a thought that’s, at that time anyway, baffling. Some things that absolutely make no sense and you cant figure out for the life of yourself why the person/place/thing that did it, did it that way. Inventions, machines, I mean aren’t they suppose to really help things along? You know, make life simpler, easier or faster. Somewhere along the way, the purpose is lost and we are left struggling with the aftermath of what was once a great idea. Lets look at some of these things:
Packaged ketchup: Clearly makes sense. I mean cmon. How else would you deliver ketchup? But, now heres the tricky bit. Tomato slush is neatly packaged in sachets. Cute and all. But, the single most annoying problem with that is that they don’t OPEN. Try as you may, you cant tear open the sachet. Even where it says Tear Here. At a deeper level, it could mean, that in an emotional state, when you need to waste some precious eye water, you have a slot where you can neatly tuck it away. But, when you are eating (and not doing a site recce for your tears), the sachets will not tear open and spill their contents. Throw in some oily hands and its simply an exercise in futility. Many a teeth, nails and sharp objects will fail here. Oh, btw, you people out there packing these things. Heres a heads up, when we order takeaway, we might not be at home. Therefore, we don’t have a scissor. So, use your head and end the struggle.

The “Fs”: On a good day, I can be really tech savvy. On a bad, I can access my outlook. On none of these days can I figure out what the rest of the function keys on my keyboard stand for. And because of the sheer fear of making my computer hang, I don’t randomly punch on these buttons. F5 which makes a slideshow out of a work-in-progress is really useful. The rest, I am not so sure you know. What do they really do? Besides thrilling anyone with an eye for beauty and making the keyboard look balanced, I am not sure these were attached there for a reason. Besides, I don’t use them for anything useful and I do a lot of work on the computer, so they really cant be that important right? Coming back, why are they there again?

Swiss Army Knives: See, clearly, these were meant for the Army, But since they have snuggled into our lives, and men seem immensely fascinated with them, people thought they were a great idea. Technically, speaking they are. But, you know, not for us. At several levels. One, when in dire need, you will not find them. You can dig your purse, suitcase, scratch your head, murmur some expletives, say you were sure you put it there, but you will not find it. You then improvise, effectively rendering your army knife useless. Two, when you do have it at hand and pull it out with all the style you can muster, it wont work. One corkscrew function is useless, the knife is not needed, the scissors to tiny to cut anything but thread and leaves your fingers severely damaged (another post about the delinquency of that) and what you really need to open is a phone. You see where I am going with this? Besides oozing with style, you cant do much else with these things. Baffling, truly.

I will think of more and put it up. Surely this deserves more.

You mean everything has to make sense?

My long time away is to be blamed on the lack of a job. That’s because at my job, my computer and the keyboard were functioning fine. At home, not so. The keyboard is a cool gizmo with a mind of its own, and its wireless. It types the letters it likes and leaves the others out. On emails, I sound like a severely dysfunctional person and often get replies full of sympathy, offering me help and their vibrator. No, really, you know right? They used vibrators on women coz they thought they solved problems. I think it was wonderful therapy.

Anyway, this post has nothing to say in particular. I will be all over the place, talking about stuff that completely unrelated. Thinking aloud, basically.

So,

Why do men like movies like Terminator Salvation? No, really why? It’s just a lot of people and machines and people-machines being thrown around and doing some awfully unbelievable stunts. Of course, they have smart dialogues when they are going to die/escape/run/hang. You know, really, if I am hanging on for dear life, I want to get the hell out and be safe. I will not be wearing tight leather pants and I will not remove my helmet to reveal nice, flowy hair. I will be smell of shit (from being shit scared), my hair will be matted around my dirty face and any smart alec dialogues and I promise I will punch you.

Advertising people. Arrgghh. Yeah, yeah. I am in advertising. But, you know, from the inside, it’s a pretty fucked up place. People think its ok to be nasty, stupid, a psychotic murderer. Oh! You snorted your ass off and raped an innocent man? Cmon, fucker, welcome to advertising. Huh?!?!? Anyhoo, profanity is ok, weird creative people..well..ok..but this attitude. From years of (ok, a couple) observing this industry, I have deduced that ideas, the great award-winning, awesome ideas work with timelines. Creative ideas only saunter in after 6. This policy is strictly adhered to. Only after half the world is in snoozeville are you allowed to think good ideas. Which means a lot of time is spent post-6 at work, abusing each other, smoking up and being a nuisance to society and the world at large. Why? Inefficiency, it’s called. Do all your work, in the time given to you. Stop fucking hanging around work, claiming your passion for advertising keeps you caged in office. And stop looking down at people who leave work on time. We are done and we have a life outside of work. Which involves normal people. So, fuck you.

You know when you are chatting to someone and you just have to pee? No, not the bladder-full feeling. So, on your chat window, you type a quick “brb”. Which is, be right back. Which means now, you have disappeared to do whatever urgent work you needed to be completed. So, people of the world to my “brb”..do not say ok. Coz my window starts flashing and im not there. “NOT THERE” And I know you are ok with it anyway. You wouldn’t rather have me pee on you, right?



I don’t know if this feeling has a name. Or maybe it’s called familiarity. I will be jumping out of my panties at the thought of a holiday. Of tuning out the world. Of being with friends and family and having that warm, feeling. I do feel all these things, but when I return, all those sights and smells that lead home are just..sooo comforting. Suddenly, im not nervous, not jumpy. Its not like im these things normally a don’t relaise it, but it just feels so good to come home even if I have been looking forward to the holiday in my dog’s kennel.

In other unrelated and inconsequential news, I am scared my very efficient machine at the gym will break down. I need a life. Plus, I love Lindt’s dark chocolate. I would marry this one.

Ok finish. Ok bye.

The Not-So-Simple life

Usually, I am not the one to complain against any kind of socializing. Online or otherwise. I see nothing wrong with keeping in touch with old friends, flames and seeing how they are doing occasionally. Its when we become celebrities due to this networking that it becomes a slight issue. For the ones who are slow or having a particularly taxing work day, I am talking about Facebook.

This voyeuristic networking website has caught everyone’s fancy. And aunt, uncle, Tommy and Pinky are logging on to socialize (even if aunt and uncle last stepped out of the house in the 40’s, Tommy cant get his underwear on right and Pinky is still wetting her bed with alarming regularity)Now, like I said lets not get judgmental. Basically, everyone enjoys the scenery while they take their ego trip.

Funny thing is, Facebook can also quickly send the ego hurtling down to the ankles. And have other socio-economic consequences. Let me explain with a list. Don’t shake your head, if you are reading this you know how fond I am of lists.

So, here goes:

Social ladder climbing front

So, everyone goes to everyone elses profile and furtively checks out how many friends they have. If they are friends and have more friends, jealousy pops its head and an immediate resolve is made to go out and socialize in the real world. If they are ex flames, you hope they dont have as many friends. A lot of gloating happens in the case you have some friends on your list who kept in touch with you and ignored your bitter half. If you don’t like them, and they have more friends, you murmur some expletives and wonder why people just add other people to their list when they have met for all of 3 mins in the urinal. Atleast that’s how you justify their popularity.

The war of the profile pics

They can be sexy, cute, naughty and disgusting. Some very cool people think putting up pics of the back of their head, their fingers or their nostrils or something as inane will improve their dismal social status. They are also mislead, by the schizophrenic voice in their head, that this will add some mystery to them and make them a chick magnet (or cock magnet, as the case may be). Personally, I think these guys attract more friend requests from barbers, cannibals and nose haircutting equipment salespeople. But, I could be wrong. Some people think the world needs to know their marital status and will put up pics of them, their family and grandparents and sometimes their neighbours (coz they could be the reason they have a family). Profile snaps with more than one person should be banned.

The status message scheming

So, everyone needs to know what you are doing at any time of the day. At work, eating, reading, pissing other people off with constant updates or whatever. Others, as is the case with blogs, will use big words, stupefying their friends and making a sentence that is completely incomprehensible. Others will put dots. Which I think is suppose to mean something. Others will say “is”. You would think you know that they exist, their updated facebook status evidence of that, but no, they will say it. Thanks, I guess, we were starting to think you “were”.

Celebrity pains

If you are on facebook, you might as well put up pics of yourself. Doing stuff. So, all your friends around the world know what you are upto, who you are hanging out with and how high your hemline was. Some unedited pics also reveal a lot more. But, that aside, I have realized pics on the website raise you to the status of semi-celebs. And while those guys have designers falling all over themselves to dress them, we have no one. Now, the pics are online, so everyone has seen us in some clothes. And no girl worth her fashion sense would wear the same clothes. Recession means we are all down to tattered panties, so buying new clothes isn’t an option. Whats a girl to do?

As anyone would do is such a fragile situation, I have found a solution to the issue. That would be to not put up pics.

I have obviously given this issue a lot of thought. And in the light of the options, I say we all go offline, into the real world and get a life.

Now, where was that sheep again?

Pricks

There are mild irritants, like flies and mosquitoes (has anyone figured out why we need these pesky blood suckers?) and then there are major irritants like other humans. It’s not them per se, it’s their ideas. And sometimes, it’s them. Actually, it’s mostly them. It irritates me that these people exist.

Point being, I am very bugged with somethings. And as always, it is imperative that I list these buggers out, for two reasons. First, because I love listing, as has been previously established and two, because my voice needs to be heard or seen. More because I like listing, just so we are clear on this.

Bugger 1- The permanent hard-oned moral police

Seriously, these sick fuckers have their heads so up their asses, all they can see is shit. And slowly, every city in India seems to have these beasts roaming freely on the streets. And it pisses me off that they think they are the watchdogs of “Indian culture.” Culture, is about values and respecting traditions. It’s not about what you wear or where you go. Or about what you eat. We don’t have to go around touching every leery uncle’s feet and wear saris to prove we are Indian. So, fuck you guys. I am sending you guys an extra-pink chaddi.


Bugger 2 ¬ The Luser

Which is the very long word user. Some blogs I visit (not regularly, very taxing) or happen to stumble upon leave me missing my dictionary with acute longing. The blogger is clearly catering to a niche audience (by niche i mean the ones who were forced by parents to eat a dictionary and other abused people.) They use words like tantamount. They use my entire vocab in one sentence. Who reads these blogs? And why?


Bugger 3 – The half-empty glassers

Yes, its recession. The freshly unemployed are looking deranged, the employed are staring furtively at the unemployed and effectively, everyone is worried shitless. At this point, I think a good plan is parking your ass at work, spending less time staring at your colleague’s tits and pushing yourself to the point where you are getting some work done, like getting a whole word document typed. But, then come sauntering along the smug employed. Mostly found in a hysterical state, these guys will tell anyone who is listening (or not) about how they heard about several thousand people getting the kick, about how some people cant get their two-year old obese child medication and junk food and how his wife is now poor and cant afford that Prada bag. The SE is will also drown out any voice of sanity that may as much as imply that things aren’t as bad as they look. They look at you with pity when you say rumours are making the whole situation more grim. They stare at you, clucking at your stupidity and wonder loudly if you are functioning in an alternate reality. Seriously, talking about this isn’t going to make it go away or make it better. It’s ok. You live through this, just like you live through everything else.

Phew! It feels good to vent. So, its that bad, huh?

Caution: Proceed at your own risk

Dangerous, life threatening stunts in the rest of the world: skydiving, scuba diving, surfing, rock climbing, snow skiing, water skiing, snowboarding, mountain biking, mountaineering, storm chasing, hang gliding, and bungee jumping.

Dangerous, life threatening stunts in India: Traveling in a train, writing railway exams, eating dinner at a posh hotel, being of a certain religion, losing a cricket match, wearing appropriate sporting gear, not belonging to a certain state, expressing affection on stage, working for a major IT firm, being of a certain gender, getting a nomination at a prestigious award function abroad, smoking at a public event even if that’s what you do regularly and now visiting a pub.

For those who love the adrenaline rush, there is always living and breathing.

We Indians are real adventurous.

Super. Awesome. Brilliant. Winner. Really?

I live in that part of the world where English movies come to the cinemas after the whole world and its wife have watched, dissected, hated/loved them. Some like Dark Knight come after the lead actor is dead. Yeah, it takes that long.

But, because the movies come here ambling along at their own pace, the hype built around them is enough to cause stampedes at the cinemas, even if they are as exciting as watching popcorn pop.

With Slumdog Millionaire, we knew the stars, the musicians, the crew and the chaiwallah before the movie made it here. We speculated and waited. And then it came.

And then suddenly, I wasn’t sure what all the hype was about. A lot of us came out bewildered; looking very lost, grappling with the fact that we didn’t think it was choke-on-your-breath-in-admiration fare. While the rest of the world was falling over itself, swooning at the storyline, I was a little stumped with the rave reviews people were giving it. Also, as it happens with situations like these, I thought I was one of the few who was cursed with severely cramped intellectual ability. Turns out not.

I will admit it’s an entertaining movie. You love the boy, his disarmingly charming innocence and in his older years, his inability to be cunning. It’s fast paced, flows smoothly and keeps you riveted. Those were the raves. The rants. If you have lived in Mumbai or anywhere around it, you stare at Jamal hoping somewhere he would be more in touch with reality. Jamal seems strangely optimistic. Like he’s living in another planet. There is no sense of disillusionment, which is almost characteristic to such people. Yes, they do live happily and strive constantly, but the discontent exists. And in SM, there is a constant attempt to dust that under the carpet. Dev Patel , our hero, hits puberty and then stays there. Frieda Pinto on the other hand grows up (some assets weren’t pushed up to be staring in our faces but her face does age). By the end, our teenage boy looks like he’s probably going to fumble under her shirt while she looks like she’s been around. And of course, they then break into a song and dance routine. Smooth, very smooth.

The movie, as is tradition, does no justice to the book. But, I wont slam it for that. But, to someone like me, it skims over the tough parts making Jamal’s life look like a series of unfortunate incidences rather than something that is a way of life. Which is why I won’t shower it with superlatives. I think if this movie were made in India, it would have sunk without a trace. What do you think?

Wow, I have been away for long

There isnt much to explain my absence from the blogging world. Except laziness, perhaps. Or terrorism. Nah, not really.

For starters, let me say Happy New Year. And I am hoping with all my being that this year is nothing like the last. That I am a better person this year. I have my resolutions (which i shall not put here for reasons of secrecy and my inability to keep them) but I have wishes, for the whole world.

In 2009,

1) We will learn the value of a life. Human or not. Irrespective of religion, colour and race. Because no life deserved to be snuffed out to please your fucking ego.

2) We will bury the past. A past tainted by bad decisions, splattered with the blood of innocents and scarred by horrifying memories. A past that angers us today because we never got rid of the pain we created then.

3) We will not teach hate. Not to our children. We wont feed them propaganda fed to us by corrupt politicians and self-serving bastards.

4) We will be fair. Even if it means our ego takes a thrashing.

5) That we will not walk away when we know someone needs our help. We wont turn our back and justify it to ourselves. We will help with the money. But more importantly, we will give them the love.

Lets make 2009 the year we wake up.