Believing In Something Is...

You waste not-so-reasonable money behind a piece of Hair Clip that only does not hold your hair right,but loosen up every minute you move your head while talking & you still wear it.

~JAZZ

"And everybody knows where this is heading 
Forgive me for forgetting 
Our hearts irrevocably combined 
Star-crossed souls slow dancing 
Retreating and advancing 
Across the sky until the end of time"

Tiny Little Secrets

While I am not really in a mood of sounding profound and striking my knowledge-streaks at almost mid-night, I just figured out that I can not just keep awake all night doing nothing.So here comes the post.Yet another cheesy post and you know why.Follow-ups to the book I am now with.I am gonna let out couple of my creepy secrets just to feel that after-this-post-I-may-see-my-mirror-effect-and-drop-the-very-grotty-idea.Anyway.

1.In the afternoon when I reach out to my workstation I always drink the water from the bottle which I left last night.And every time I lie to Amrita that I filled this afternoon.

2.I may ask people's name every now and then even after iterative introduction.I mean I-give-that-what's-there-in-a-name kind of look but then deep inside I think am I that guy with Korsakoff's syndrome from 51st Dates?

3.I side-cut that sweet polka dotted black skirt of my sister with the hedge cutter just cause she accidentally discolored my red-top that I was so in love & wore that to almost all morning English classes in a row.

4.I redeem with my talks in-front of messy friend group that Shawshank Redemption is one of my favorite number where as I just have not watched it end-to-end ever. I just fast-forward it every time.Replace that with You've got mail.

And wait.Last one is a hit.Watch out.

He: So what's the weekend plan?

I: Oh, Some good sleep and then may be skating or swimming.

He: Oh nice to know that you do skate. So what,Roller? (*Snorts*)

I: Surely Nope. I do Inline.It's pacing up buddy.Ain't no Kid with rollers ON.You gotta be kidding me.

Damn. I am an In-line novice FYI.I always do much of air sorta banter to people who snorts at me.

Anyway,Let's snap off here and complete the book. Chapter 7.

G'night.

Ladies Night

Pacing Up.Days are busy. No,not that busy but depicting busy day wouldn't hurt much.Catching up 1000 things at the same time would hurt rather.My new book got started.Let me tell you what I am up to.How many cheesy stuffs I am wrapped up with.Holes in Brain,Literally.

I got started with Shopaholic Abroad by Sophie Kinsella. Why don't they come up with Rebecca Bloomwood shits afters Confessions ... Cause People like me dig that shit.And then bummer.The five year engagement plan,Made Of Honor,When In Rome.I ain't kidding.Well Slumdog and so very oliver twist sagas may go to ad nauseum era for the time.Fundamentals and values,Oh they come and go. At times crocky movies happen to light up. And Yes,Over-swam.So after all this head full of chicky-flick and book,I am not gonna say I am always right. But kinda happen to be like I AM. 

Exhibit A.

Last night, after doing this dishes (that’s right… I do the dishes. I’m the lady who handles office piece of job,calls,swims a lot,gorgeous roti maker, AND good with my hands!), my best-y-roomie sauntered over, and the following conversation took place.AFAIQ,She is the suze in confessions of a shopaholic who bear a inquisitive mind and demanding(That's cause I at times surrender myself for her sisterly care and delivering my bed-tea in the morning.)

She: Why aren’t all of the glasses in the drainboard?

Me: What?

She: You put some of the glasses on the slab, and not in the drain board to let them dry.

Me: What difference does it make?

She: It makes a difference to ME.Coughs.To all of us.We prefer them to all be in the drain board.[Mark the We tone,she does that to mean the partner in crime.Mother of Slyness,Huh.]

Me: Have you taken a look at all the glasses and plates that I DO have in the drain board?

She: Yeah, so?

Me: Yeah, so? There is NO room for the extra glasses, so I’m letting them dry on the slab.

She: What do you mean, there’s no room. Of course there’s room!

Me: No there’s not. Where do you see any room to put these glasses?[Recently we've started being extremely rich in cutlery set for the flat's been full of aunty,Uncle and so and so atithi.We girls are so full of kitchen stuffs.]

She: Just rest them on top of the other glasses.

Me: You can’t do that… they’ll fall and break.

She: No, they won’t. 

Me: Yes, they will.

She: No, they won’t. Believe me… I've been doing the dishes too, and I stack the glasses every damn time, and the glasses are just fine.

Me: I don’t know what you do every time, but this damn time, there is too much crowd in the drain board, and if I try to rest those extra glasses on top, they are going to break.

She: They would break, if you did it.Remember Hot milk-pot case.(I did that once and the case is still open to my surprise, now I know.) But I do this all the time…. Just move over and let me do it. I don’t want glasses lying on the dirty slab.

Me: That is a very stupid plan.Besides the slab ain't dirty.Maasi's just washed it off now.

She:Would you just pause for a little.Really You talk too much. Here, let me show you…..

And with that, She bumped me to the side, and began to stack the offending glasses on top of the others.

It really did look like an expert job. I could tell that she in fact DOES do this all the time by the expert way that she stacked glass after glass……

…. The near perfect form she used as each item got perfectly perched upon another…….

In fact, it was SO perfect, that it took a WHOLE TEN SECONDS for one of the glasses to begin to slide off the one it was sitting on, tip over, and do a series of end-over-end somersaults down the pile of dishes, off the counter, where it admittedly made a near PERFECT explosion of glass shards as it came crashing down onto our kitchen floor.

We both stood there for a few seconds, neither one of us saying a word. Inside, I was feeling quite happy with myself.

I was about to either offer up an encouraging word of support, or throw out one of my really ratty sarcastic comment about what a good job she did, when she looked up at me and said…..

“I don't believe you.How did you stack em all before. You're just Gross with everything in kitchen.”

Soundtrack of the time: Ladies night.

Serve yourself.

Mustang Sally

You Guys. I am damned.Dejected.Ever feel like a walking train wreck? I am now. Yep. Rants ON. And you sure want to know why! Cause my mom scolded me.I am one of those skanks who never listens to parents. Today she had this day-dream that I am gonna fall ill and she called me to keep on warning not to keep my Bus window open as it's been raining almost all day. We're having a bad-weather-day here.And of course I would not bear the very idea of sitting on my ass being claustrophobic there. I ignored her and here I am blogging up with wet-eyes and sore throat and doomed feel.What hurts the most is,I am gonna have to cancel my morning swimming plan tomorrow and switch off the fan tonight.Yikes.Talking of swimming,let me tell you, I ain't anymore that girl in a small-town who was craving for barbie-doll figure.I do swimming ,cause I love the rhythm that flows from toe to head.It's the way the hands move after each other in a sync and the legs flap,and the way you can see the ground below 9 feet lucid water.Everything.That could be so captivating that I can spend my whole life swimming.People run after barbie doll size.I mean seriously.Barbies are dolls. They are to be played with. Nobody has ever figured out what a Bratz doll would look like in life size with the same proportions ...or maybe they have... my guess is that it would have a rather difficult time supporting its ginormous head.

I recently read an article somewhere tearing apart Mattel for selling barbies. The article took the stance that Barbies are responsible for setting unrealistic expectations on our bodies growing up. I don't know about you ladies - but Barbie? Nooo. They let their best to curl the strangles of hair to barbie sorta. I also noticed that they are very aerodynamic when launched at my cousin's feet first over a decade. Why would they stop now?

Stop blaming a plastic toy. I get that Hollywood places unrealistic expectations that women sometimes feel pressure to emulate. But as long as the world is turning - they will have plastic dolls with long legs, teeeensy waists AND they will have some kind of pageant awarding women for something that they had very little to do with - genetics and hair spray. Don't get me wrong; some of these ladies are very committed to healthy living and to working out - and god knows I get how hard that can be since I work my ass off - some have even demonstrated some impressive levels of academia... but mostly people - they are there because they have mastered the most important skills of all; teasing their hair, putting just the right amount of Vaseline on their teeth and knowing which heels will really set that jeans off.... I still watch the shite. I still play with buy Barbies (for my uncle's daughter...) Can't help it. We're just a bunch of critical enablers.My point is - I think blaming Mattel for poor body image makes about as much sense as blaming a toy company because you couldn't find a real pink pony with wings. Unless someone actually has... in that case - I want one too...

I may find our twin barbies with one eye gone somewhere under the bed this time during the next break to home.And then I may think of my old days while I & my Sista wasting entire evening making a polka dotted matching hand-gloves, and on the very holler of Maa both of us would hide it at certain corner of study-room that we could never find it back.To our surprise again after ages of exams and years you find it under the sofa-set and there is a spider living inside it and then you are traumatized and then you have to check those hand-gloves too haven't become an arachnid haven..Oh I miss every little corner of my home and those piles of old books on shelves and father's umpteen bills and receipts under the teapoy sheet and most importantly I am totally a goner with my words and my sore-throat. I am that sick. Gotta scoot. May be 3-4 Namcold along with Crocin would kill my cold.I can not even read what I am writing. To hell with coldness & may be fever by this time now.Go away. G'nyt.

PS: Inspiration for the post: Mustang Sally.Wilson Pickett just picked up my mood in doomsday like this.But hey.I am not Sally and don't either own a Mustang.So don't you judge me.

Jazz Time

Aloha.Time 12.37am.I am tired to the bones.I got a bed nicely-made right in front of me to crash on.But what am I doing is, analyzing accents.We had this funny call set up this night with bunches of onsite guys.Couple of them were British and imagine my happiness. I'm like head over heels for their accent.We know it's just no case of Medulla Oblongata,but still.And when we talk British, their slang have the particular taste.Oh ,Mate,I can not just scribble the total part now.Super-drowsy,I am.Stick around,I will come up with a big post soon.

And you really don't wanna miss the below jazz.

Let's just call the whole thing off.

Quel Night :)

The Old Man & The Sea

"The clouds were building up now for the trade wind and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea."

-The Old Man and The Sea by Ernest Hemingway

You know what today is! Well not Diwali. But why does he pop up in my mind. It's been October 1992 Diwali,my Grandpa left me.I was still talking to him while travelling.He was there motionless and almost gone to another world in the car.I thought he would wake up and yell at me for distorting his well-managed coiffure.And of course unlimited story of fishing at the bay side and bringing aayi's hand made milk-pedas.

One  particular saturday,I had my school off.We,at the river-side screaming,fishing,counting the number of fishes we caught.

Me: Why do you call me Andakhai, aaja?

Him: Cause you always have one of those in breakfast. Be it chicken's or be it fish's,Don't you?

Me: But why do call Di Mendhakhai(Sheep-eater) then? She does not eat any of those?

Him: Well,it rhymes with you.Though she's a resemblance with mutton-eater.So I derived.

[I,busy in thinking how valid the point is.]

Him: Now you can be a crab-eater. We got many of those this turn.

Me: Aayi's gonna make my day.[Running away back home..]

20 Years since then and I still feel like missing country-side-fishing with Aaja.
Memories. They don't die.