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Saturday, February 18, 2012

Facebook Etiquette :-)


Few things I thought every facebook user should know: 

1.       If you know me, add me. If you don’t and you have 112 mutual friends with me, you don’t need to add me out of courtesy. I wouldn’t mind it either.

2.       Facebook will not give a dollar each for clicking ‘share’ button to any of the distressing pictures you circulate around. It is only like those chain mails from the 90’s which says that if your forward the photo of Virgin Mary to 20 people in less than 8 seconds, she will appear in your room today.

3.       Do not poke me if you don’t know me. There is nothing more disgusting in the virtual world than being poked by total strangers.

4.       Seriously I wonder how people get the time to check ‘Anita’s predictions’ and the ‘Meaning of your name’. They even ridiculously go to the extent of requesting innocent people to use the same.

5.       Half of the people who share random sceneries with the tag ‘I love Kerala’ and ‘Proud to be a Keralite’ do not live in Kerala. They don’t even live in India. A few rare specimens do not even admit of being a Keralite when asked.

6.       In photos of happy-looking couples, some people post comments like ‘You both look so much like each other’. I really don’t understand how a husband and wife can look like each other. You can get away with ‘Nice pair’ without provoking people to think you are weird.

7.       There are some pictures of kittens and puppies going around for more than a decade through forwarded emails. Please do not reshare those in facebook saying ‘cute puppy’. They must be dead and gone by now.

8.       I had to unsubscribe from some people’s posts because they constantly upload youtube videos of ‘mile sur mera tumhara’ and other songs from a long time ago and say that it is ‘nostalgic’. If you upload them each and every day, it is not nostalgic anymore.

9.       All of us who have access to facebook have access to youtube as well. You can say that you like such and such songs, but sharing the link of each and every song you like, on every single day is frustrating. Nobody is going to watch them anyway.

10.   Trying to ignore the n farmville requests...now what the hell is cityville and castleville ? Please !

“Heal facebook... Make it and better place…For you and for me and the entire human race…”

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Valentine's Day Special: A true story.


While most of you might kill to go back in time to your college days, I would rather die than go back to it. A bunch of people who were far from being anywhere near the wavelength as me were my batch mates. As a result I had no other deviation or entertainment I could turn to, just to place a blame for my declining marks, so I found studying as a way to overcome adverse effects of this pathetic species on my otherwise blooming youth.

So there was this person, let’s call him Ken. Although he was in a different department, he was famous notorious in college for more reasons than one. He also had a very famous affair with one of the girls in the hostel. This girl, let’s call her Ms.Weirdo, was weird even before she fell in love with him. 

Calling her weird would be an understatement, as ever since this guy had got into her veins, she’d been aloof from her own friends. Although she was in a different floor at hostel one could see her heartthrob’s name carved and written on her pillows, walls, ceiling fan and on every surface on which pen could make a mark on.  However, Ken made it a point that he ridicules her when she was not around, so that the general public knows that he wasn’t serious and the affair was just a prank. Even the studious and insignificant me knew this. However Ms.Weirdo was in a different world altogether and was oblivious to everything around her. No one would dare open their mouths about Ken in her presence.

One of those days Ken, who looked quite drunk on a study leave evening, even insulted me and my friend by passing a derogatory remark as we visited the college canteen for snacks. I never had any reason to hate him before, but after this incident, like every other female in the campus I hated him too. (Ms.Weirdo was not considered as a part of the female community).

Anyway, I graduated from that college and started living a life. Ms.Weirdo was a junior so she must have been there a few years more, I don’t know.

I was finally back home for good, and CV-printing, job hunting, interviews, group discussions, aptitude tests and the like started. Six months went by, and I landed a job at my own home town. The pay was small…but who cares. I was staying with my parents- so food and accommodation free. Whatever meager salary I got was used to buy clothes, shoes and to recharge my prepaid mobile. The initial six months at my new firm was a training period, during which we had to do a project too. We burnt the midnight oil for getting this project done, and I stayed at a working women’s hostel a couple miles from my office, with a friend for around a month.

Now working women’s hostel is the new definition for hell. But our super busy schedules made us stay most of the time at office itself. Arriving at midnight to the hostel and leaving early saved me the energy to kill cockroaches and rodents which were permanent unpaid tenants and added to the misery of us losers who have no other option but stay in this building. There were three girls in a dingy room which could hardly accommodate one. My friend, me, and a stranger. Lets call this stranger Ms.Despo.

 Ms. Despo was desperate for love. As soon as it is morning, all she can talk of is about her boyfriend. We figured that out anyway because this woman never slept and talked on her mobile all night in low voice under the blanket. In such a small and closed room, one could even hear the footsteps of cockroaches, when this disgusting female would whisper sweet nothings on her mobile all night. Either she wanted us to vacate the room or she thought that we were deaf.

One Friday, as I was getting ready to go home, Ms.Despo asked me:

“Anita, which college did you go to?”

“Oh its XYZ. Why?”

“My boyfriend went there too. He knows you”.

I noticed from the corner of my eye that she was blushing at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’, but I was rather focused on wondering which guy it was.

“Whats his name?”

‘Ken Mathews”.

I was stunned initially but extremely amused within a few seconds.
“He wants to talk to you”

I took that mobile, whose keypad was hotter than KFC chickens due to overuse and placed it gently near my ear and I said,
“Hello?”

“Anita, this is Ken here. I am sorry, really very very sorry for whatever I said to you at college, please don’t tell anything about Ms.Weirdo to Ms.Despo. I am serious about Despo and “might” marry her also please”

He finished that in a fraction of a breath. I tried to pinch myself to stop the roar of laughter brewing within me. I am not sure what he meant by “might” and “also” in that sentence. I got goosebumps and it felt like a Bollywood climax when this once self assumed Don, Ken begged me to not spill the history of his wayward life to his prospective bride.

 I replied nonchalantly “ Okay..hope you’re doing good” and ended the conversation briskly.

Years later I found Ken Mathews on facebook. He’d actually got married to Ms.Despo and has put up their wedding photo as his display picture. 

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Its now..or NEVER.



Long back there was this incident when I had a lot of dresses in my wardrobe which were either worn out or unfit. I gave it to my mother who donated them to people who couldn’t afford them. Later when I came across a send off party photo from my mother’s college I found a girl wearing that dress which I discarded. It was probably the day everyone dressed their best and that was her best dress. My eyes welled up as I confronted the painful reality of the financially challenged and how destiny doesn’t favor everyone.

My parents were givers and not receivers, in all the two plus decades that I lived with them. Clothes, money, food, moral support, advice, you name it , they gave it. However what they received had always been criticisms and brickbats. But I believe that blessings come from God and not from the thankless mortals we extended a helping hand to. And yes, over the years I have seen my parents blessed by the Almighty abundantly by each passing day  through all the pains and hurdles that befell them.

It had me thinking… which is right? Donating something which you don’t need, or something which you selflessly want another person to have? As per logical and practical conclusions, no deed is selfless in this world, which may be true if we perceive it that way. There are scores of people who contribute to charitable trusts and orphanages by being anonymous. And there are people who pose for photographs and get a receipt from them as a part of their personal finance management and cheap publicity. However I cannot comment or start a debate on this, because, frankly speaking, I do not know. But as per the scriptures, the one who has is expected to give the one who doesn't.

So when I was having a late night chat with my mother, she casually mentioned about her maid, who was so poor that she and her daughters lived in a single room hut. When they went to church on Sundays, dogs and cats would break into their home – which was now closed with plastic sheets as the rain washed away the mud walls- and eat the lunch they made for that day. I fought tears as I heard this. One of these daughters was getting married and this woman was trying to make some money for the wedding. Well, affording gold was out of question, but for good clothing? Any girl, rich or poor would want to look good on her wedding day. It is the single most important day of her life, whether she gets married in a thatched chapel or at a Cathedral. 

I made a decision.

I made some phone calls, and made arrangements with the help and support of my in-laws and parents....and I gave my wedding reception saree to her. This saree, which I wore just once, is not something I would discard. Even though the chances that I will wear it again in my life are very remote, I’d save it, as it holds an emotional value. As a part of this so-called “emotional value”, I would stack it up in a wardrobe and over the years it will be eaten by insects. But today, it could change a woman’s life.

 And so it did.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Shopping fiasco !


Shopping days are back as Mummy is around, and we took her to all malls we know pretending that we are helping her shop, but in reality she din't and we ended up swiping the credit card everywhere :(

Recently it was at Lakeland. There were these egg poachers, a holder to lift the poacher, another to separate egg from the holder, and another to actually pull out the egg, and then there is an egg separator which separates the yolk from the white, and a series of totally useless kitchen stuff. ( On a totally different note, I would be delighted to meet the woman who uses these on a daily basis ).

As we were browsing around, suddenly hubby came holdng an item which looked like a tiny remote.


Me: “Whats that?”
“I’m buying this. It is a key locator.”
“WHAT?”
“The car keys, you see. If we lose it, this remote will help us locate it”
“How?”
“This one, **shows me another tiny box** is the main thing. We should keep it always in the car and carry this remote with us all the time. That’s all !!”

Me: “What if you lose this remote?”

He: “Nono I wont lose the remote na?” **stressing the 'I' which also means, ' we all know who is the careless one' :-|.**

Me: “Well then just guard the car key like you will do the remote!”

**stares angrily and keeps it back**

I walk away. Oh my God. Is he serious or what. Egg poachers and the associated junk looks useful to me now.

Soon he was back again, with another item. It was an orange peeler. “ Did you see this? I am buying it. I have a hard time peeling oranges everyday”

Me: “I will peel them for you.”

“Nono you have baby to look after na…you wont have time”…and there it flies straight into the shopping cart.

I let out a huge sigh. My mother, for whom we actually came to this store, was taking a look at muffin trays and making mental notes of their sizes and reading catalogues. She had no plans to open her wallet unless absolutely necessary.

So when I was just beginning to retire from that store, there he appeared again, with something which looked like a torch. Before it flew into the shopping cart I interrupted…”Wait!! Now what is that ?”

“Its this awesome thing which removes the seeds from apples”

“I can do that with a knife!!”

He put that also in the cart and walked straight to the cash counter completely oblivious of my comment. I was sure these things were going to run up a huge bill. I could have bought a pair of jeans with that money. 

I gasped and turned to look at the shelf I was leaning on, when I saw this lemon squeezer. I have one in my kitchen, but it is shaky due to daily use, discolored and old.

So I called him and said, “ Well then take this lemon squeezer too”.
He looked surprised and asked ‘Why?’
“Ours is worn out completely” I explained.

He: “C’mon, you can do that manually. You have to use your fingers in a rotating motion and then drain out the seeds! That’s how everyone makes lime juice! Do some work !”  

  :-|

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Was awarded a new tag !



My Mom is here. She brought me one of her special homemade chocolate cake. I don’t know what you’ll think of me when I say this, but I ate the entire cake on the same day and I’m not even sorry or guilty. (We have a family friend here, and my Mom had plans to distribute a few pieces to them as well, but I got violent when she revealed this evil plan to me). So my little one is enjoying a little more attention than what is actually required .Clearly, we are spoiling him.

So as I was browsing through my blog on the weekend (heights of luxury as my Mom is here to take care of the baby), I came across this comment which Reflections had posted on my last post and the award. Wow Reflections thinks I am versatile! Yay ! I’ve been tagged to write seven random things about myself and collect the award as well. As this award is already on my blog, I’m thanking Reflections below it, and continue with the tag.

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I am very infamous for misplacing things. Back home, if anything goes missing from its usual place, my parents tend to immediately call me (in a volume and tone which doesn’t sound so good) or search my room if I’m not home(the search usually ends successfully). The same continues after my marriage. However, if someone misplaces my stuff I get confused as logically, I can’t blame anyone for it. L


Right from my childhood I hated food. When I spent vacation at my grandma’s I kept everyone on their toes. I made them run after me with spoon and food for hours. This continued into my college days, when I was underweight and immunity took a toll on me. I caught all diseases which are usually attributed to malnutrition. Even now, (I am visibly NOT underweight) although I can generously treat myself with chocolate cake or grilled chicken, eating healthy is a very difficult task for me. I have alarmingly low sugar levels and Papa is very angry with me right now for that. I have a weird feeling that my son will follow suit.

       I am into the fourth book of Sophie Kinsella’s shopaholic series and can identify totally with that character. Not like I buy Armani or Vera Wang gowns all the time, but I have this knack to make whatever clothes that catch my eye, feel like they are a total necessity. Last month I thought, that I should buy a black formal pants and my wardrobe would be perfect. But now I think I should have a few more tshirts and I just cant seem to get enough.

      My husband is a total foodie, especially for beef and mutton, but I have an allergy to all red meat. Surprisingly we totally get along with fish and chicken and till date, never had differences of opinion on food matters. 

          Whenever I come across relatives who worry about their unmarried daughters and are secretly groom hunting ever since they completed high school, or those aunties who anticipate on when their newly married daughter will start a family, I let a silent sigh, mostly of relief and a feeling of liberation, as I am done with that horrifying phase.

       If I had an option I would like to relive my school days once again. But I’d like to skip the exams and result part and then directly slip into the place I am now. The worst punishment that can ever be awarded to me is to make me relive my college days.
          
           My favorite food is biscuits. I used to hog on cream biscuits all through my days at hostel. Later after graduation I was home with parents and started gaining weight due to all the normal food they forced into my food pipes and the additional packs of cream biscuits which I kept eating. So I switched from cream biscuit to normal biscuits.After that I followed a diet plan and said goodbye to biscuits altogether and whenever we are out buying grocery, I make my way to the biscuit section and stare at each of them, fighting the urge to put them all into my cart.

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Phew! Those are seven not-s0-interesting-or-useful-in-any-way facts about me. I am not sure I’ll find fifteen people to tag, but I am going on to tag a few of them.


What you need to do:

 Add the Versatile Blogger Award picture to your Blog Post
 Thank the Blogger who nominated you
 Share 7 Random things about yourself
 Nominate 15 fellow Bloggers
 Inform the Bloggers of their nomination

Good Luck !!

Saturday, January 14, 2012

New Year deeds.


Two weeks already into the new year and I haven’t posted anything on my blog- which essentially means that I’ve been busy. I had to fire my maid cum babysitter for reasons that her monetary demands started increasing by the day. Then started a series of maid hunting and background checking which took a lot of my time and patience. Like one of my friends said, it’s more difficult than finding a life partner.

December is the most beautiful month of the year, accounting to the celebrations and food, but it is also the month in which time flies at the blink of an eye. May be no one realized this yet, but it is true. You buy a Christmas tree, decorate with stuff even costlier than the tree, put up serial lights – thanks to very informative electronics classes back in college, and there , Christmas mass it is, and before you know it, its new year’s eve. After that, the tree looks outdated and it literally calls out to be dismantled. There, it’s all over and before you know it, you are there in front of the mirror, sluggishly wearing that identity card on top of a dress which you can’t decide is formal or casual.

By the way during one of our cake distribution visits at a friend’s house we saw an exquisitely decorated white Christmas tree which my son set his eyes on. After coming back home he wouldn’t even look at my humble tree like it was anything special, and chances are that he might have even thought that it came with the house or was an extension of the living room furniture. Sigh for all the effort I put in to hang those little shiny things. But one should always look ahead. Two decades from now if he asks, ‘Mama how did I celebrate my first Christmas?’, I will tell him how he let me down by not being excited about the Christmas tree I set up just for him and add on a few crocodile tears. Yes in fact I am very optimistic when I say he will ask me that. No way, I know : D On a realistic note I will mostly end up pulling him by the collar and say…You have no idea how much effort and ideas I put into this tree to celebrate your first Christmas and then he will probably give me those ‘Are you leaving my collar now, or…’ look and I have to look for ways to escape.

I just realized that I have nothing worthwhile to write here. Anyway last day I got a call from the maid I fired few days back, asking me how my son was doing. I suddenly felt few pangs of regret, but I tactfully tried to hide it with words and expressions. I also told her that my Mom would fly down to Muscat soon. I also invited her over to meet my Mom so she can spend some time with my son too. (Even though I fired her I am thankful to her from my heart for taking good care of my son). She was excited and happy to hear that and gracefully accepted my invitation. Everyone is jealous for money, and so was she. So are we! Don’t we all shamelessly bargain with the HR once the interview is cleared? Yes we do. I thought, God could have created me like her, and made me clean vessels too. Instead He gave me education and a good job. So there…we are not expected to judge anyone who works for us. She might have called to know whether we hired someone else…or may be for some other reason I can’t think of…but when I invited her to my home to meet my mother I can say from her voice that she was pleased.

And yeah, I might have started the New Year on a bad note, but I managed to undo the damage too.

Spread the word!