Friday, June 27, 2008
Now that the announcements are out of the way, I'd like to rant a little. Nope! It's not about me not getting through the universities I want...I've closed that chapter a looong time ago. Thoughts like that aren't worth my time now.
So, what would I like to rant about, you ask me? Well... this particular rant is about nosy ex-neighbours who can't stand it when something good happens to someone else who's not a member of their family.
Now, this lady has been our neighbour for a very long time and her son and I grew up together like brethren... well.. that's what I thought. There emerged a shade of grey in the colourfully happy relationship my family shared with theirs when my tenth results came out. I got slightly higher marks than her son and that was all that she needed to poke her finger at every little thing I did with sarcastic comments like "Oh, you'll do this right... you got higher marks than my son afterall!" I mean comeon! The way she talks... its almost like her son's either channeling Einstein's spirit or he's the reincarnation of Feynmann!
And he got higher marks than me in XII, and then whenever she asked me about my future plans, she would smile in a very sick way that did little to hide the glee she held inside her heart. And then I got a job after college. And she was so happy for me! (yeah right!) And when I decided to ditch the job and continue studying, she's getting all edgy again.
Now all this bullshit doesn't bother me even in the most minuscule of proportions. But today, when Mom informed that 'lady' of the results (out of courtesy ofcourse, since we're still playing this f***ing charade of being close and friendly), and she gives back this off-handish answer as though she's the friggin' Dean of the University that even the dumbest of the lot get into Anna University or so her 'Oh-I'm-so-pure-I-make-God-look-like-a-sinner' son told her. And then she goes about saying she meant that I was too smart to be left out. Like I need HER authentication!
And I still don't give a damn what this lady and her 'perfect' son think. But Mom got all upset on me and blamed me for not doing well... Yep! It was all my fault that some sicko mom-sonny pair is bullshitting her. I tried telling her 'Don't give a rat's fart what they think', but apparently she does and turned this whole thing around to make me look like a child of whom she seemed a little ashamed of.
Well... when a person who's not good at being sarcastic acts like he or she is... the result is pretty funny to observe. And if that lady thinks her son is holy enough to be beatified, I have news for her! He's not perfect and his flaws are just as real as his strengths. I should make myself clear that I don't see him as a friend. I know I do. But since he deems talking to me less worthy of his time, I don't give a shit anymore. But that does not give him or his friggin' family the right to mouth off whatever they like.
Glad I got that out of my system! :D
Monday, June 23, 2008
It's ironic but ever since tenth grade, I've never gotten whatever I truly wished for. I don't know if I would be happier with what I have or with what I wish I could've had. But I cannot answer this question since both the situations are mutually exclusive...
Now I wish I get through Pune or Hyderabad University... But somehow, I'm scared of hoping for too much....
I just don't know what to hope for anymore... and I am equally scared of saying these fears to family and friends.. they might think I'm being paranoid.. Oh well... I've always hidden my fears deep inside. I'll just continue to do so.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
I guess the title's not exactly the most creative one a person comes up with! But to hell with it! I am raving mad right now...
If you're a citizen of India, you'll know what 'reservations' in educational institutes mean. It means that it doesn't matter how hard you slog your sorry butt off, if you're not from a particular sucky caste, you will NOT be admitted that easily.
One can have the eleventh highest score! Maybe more than a hundred people wrote the entrance exam... yeah... right.... so what?
That sums up the attitude of the institutions these days. Especially in Tamil Nadu! Of the total seats available, 69% are reserved for different communities (BC, MBC, MBC-muslims, MBC-christians,SC,ST)
And if some one from one of these categories gets a good enough mark, he's no longer considered under that category! Sonny chimp is automatically taken into the general category. And if he couldn't make it through, no worries! The darling government which sucks up to his parents during the elections would definitely give him admissions! And screw the witless bugger who's scored a point higher than him and still missed out on the reserved seats for the open class!
It's kinda ironic, isn't it? All they talk about is shit about eqality and other equally sugary sweet stuff and then they pull out some cheap trick like this! I know this post is not going to change the state of the nation... I know hardly anybody reads this! But I still feel I need to talk about this. To let it all out. And if the honourable chief minister and his bunch of monkeys who run the government would come in front of me, I would gladly show them the finger and be done with it!
But you know... the government's not the only body to be blamed! Discrimination based on Caste is still rampant! I mean come on! One lady appeared scandalized when she was asked if she would let her marry her daughter out of love... Heaven forbid if her daughter brought home some guy who was not from a particular sub-sect in a particular sect in a particular caste! Gosh! I really hope her daughter marries an american for this!
And so, if people like that old hag are still out there, I would gladly show them 'the finger' and be done with it!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
I was darn hungry today! Grampa had come over to supervise the painting work that was happening at my house while Dad slept thanks to a swollen bum! (I don't even wanna know how that happened!) I was the last person to have lunch today thanks to the intensive sessions I was having with Electricity and Magnetism. And when I go to the kitchen with a ravenous apetite, I find barely enough food to fill a cup! T~T
Oh well... since I had a glass of lassi just a while ago (fifteen minutes), I wasn't that dejected. So being the 'saint' that I was, I ate what was left (actually, I was too darn tired to be bothered!)
As the afternoon wore on and evening approached, I could no longer ignore those monsterous rumbling sounds from my stomach and so, decided to make myself some instant noodles (you know.... the two minute kind?) and for the sake of courtesy, I asked Grampa and Dad if they wanted any. Grampa said no and Dad said yes. So, I made just enough for two people (one pack...actually that suffices for just me! I love those instant noodles stuff). But just as I finished making, Grampa walked in and well... I know he said he didn't want it and stuff... But somehow the situation seemed really awkward. So, I wanted to make it a 'serve-yourself' event. But Dad the genius, turned to me and asked, "What about Grampa?" (he hates him by the way!)
I turned to Grampa and well... all of a sudden he didn't seem to decline it altogether! Now what was I supposed to do?! Oh well... I dished some out for him as well...(my share) and that was it. The pot turned empty. And when I am about to serve it to poor Grampa, Dad looks into the pot and remarks loudly, "What about you? There's nothing left!"
Yeah well... Dad said we could divide it equally from his share and mine but funny... he walked away with his plate! I got the idea. He didn't want to seem rude but there was no way he would share! And I was not going to let my Grampa walk out not having anything to eat when the other person (read my father) stuffs his face! So, I managed to convince him (treated him like a school boy ^__^;) and have him take the other half. But the darling fellow was so chweet, he offered half of his share. But all I took was a spoonful and gave him the rest. All the while the other individual was hogging his noodles! Oh well... there'll always those who share and those who pretend to do so. I'm a bit hungry... but I somehow feel fuller than when I've had a whole pot full of noodles! I guess this talk about mental satisfaction is true afterall! And hear ye, all those who think of me as a heartless person! I do have a heart! YAY!! And yes... I feel damn good about myself now!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
And Ta Da! They shall doze off and I shall get paid! A win-win situation don't you think? ^_~.
The only problem is that if I bore them so much they go insane... Hmm... I guess I'll have to have a meter that warns me when to stop! :D
And just in case some people have missed it... that was a rant.
AH! I shouldn't be thinking such thoughts right now! I mean... come on! I've an exam tomorrow! Oh blimey! That's right!
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Well... what's with this 'philosophy' you ask me? It all began because I asked 'What's in a name?'
I was sitting at a friend's place, leafing through a magazine that was there as she went inside for some reason (her mom wanted her help in the kitchen). My hands turned the pages lazily as I saw pages after pages of celebrity gossip. Rakhee Sawanth this... Amitabh Bacchan that.... It was then that I spotted the picture of some actress. The caption told me her name was Priyanka Kothari. And I was a little surprised. I distinctly remember seeing her face on numerous channels when she was first introduced into the film industry. She had done a Tamil film and her name at that time had been Amodha. I did like her then... she seemed sweet and cute. But in the picture that greeted me in the magazine I held in my hands; "sweet" and "cute" were the two adjectives that would never have went well with it. My friend walked in with coffee in hand and handed me a cup. I gratefully took it.
"Hey... isn't she Nisha Kothari?" she grabbed the book from my hand and stared at the picture.
"It says Priyanka." I deadpanned.
She shrugged with non-chalance and dropped the book down.
"I guess she's changed her name again. Numerology... they've deep beliefs in those kind of things! You know... if it doesn't work for them with the names they have, they'll change it."
I nodded, though I didn't seem to understand it much.
Shakespeare seemed to think the name was hardly important once. But these days, I'm sure he'd be eating his own words if he was alive in modern India.
"What's in a name?" you ask. And the answer is evident.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
In my family, they fight and break their heads. And then they get back together as though nothing happened. And the balm that heals their wounds of the fights from the past is not some sappy lovey-dovey dialogue from one of the parties involved... its most often a cricket match.
Living testimonials for cricket's power for healing broken hearts (Not too sure about the heads) and egos are my parents. Mom always finds something wrong with Dad and Dad always finds something irritating about Mom. And there are these silent fights where the tension levels in the house would make some hapless visitor or outsider wonder if there is going to be a PSLV launch. And since I have grown up to these silent glares and infected sniffs, I don't bother to ask them to patch up. They're past 40 for God's sakes! It's about time they stopped acting like some young couple on their first fight! But even if I do have to make them patch things up, I don't have to talk to them about it. Never works... All I need to do is switch the TV on. And fervently hope there's some interesting Cricket match going on. It draws both of them to the living room like how those "snake-women" in those bollywood flicks are drawn to the dude with the long beard and the weird mouth instrument. And then the metamorphosis starts.
Mom slowly enquires some vital information like what the run rate is or which batsman is batting or who won the toss and Dad replies. I never know what happens then. But its almost like they're struck with selective amnesia. Dad jokes (badly) about some player or gushes about some anecdote from the distant (and clearly not very interesting a) past and Mom laughs like he just cracked the funniest joke in humanity's history. And then there's the "zoning" effect. There I'll be... the only child craving for attention (craving for Mom to serve dinner actually) but she wouldn't even bother turning to my direction. Her eyes would be transfixed on the glowing screen of the TV, perhaps trying to help her team win through Telekinesis or Telepathy. And when I've called her a million times (on an average), she slowly turns around to face me and smiles dazedly as though she'd just got back from a long travel through dimensions hitherto unknown to Mankind.
Then there's always this problem of them getting over enthusiastic.
Imagine this scenario : You are sitting in the adjacent room, midning your own business when all of a sudden, you hear your mother shout as though someone has collapsed or some major calamity has struck your family. You drop whatever you're doing and rush to the living room to find your entire family (Granny included) staring at the Television as though they could see God in it! And the reason why she shouted? Well.... Mohammad Kaif missed a catch or Tendulkar got out after scoring nothing! It's no use trying to get some sense into them.... I've tried a million times by now.
Speaking of "over" enthusiasm (pun intended), I honestly and sincerely pity the players. If only they knew how much of a scolding (that's an understatement!) they get if they perform badly, I don't think they'd ever play cricket. I've not seen my parents getting this worked up even when I got low marks!
India is known for its cricketing craze. We've given the world some of the best cricketers of all times.... But please people! It's just a game. But then again... we Indians are programmed to revere every single cricketer who scores a hundred in a match and then burn his efigy and throw stones at their windows when they don't perform so well. I know this sounds a little too harsh... My deepesr apologies beforehand... But, Get a life! In the end, the cricketers will end up getting richer and richer whether they win or lose. But India winning the Finals will not feed the daily wage labourer who probably give a rat's arse about who wins or loses (Especially when he's forced to sleep on an empty stomach) And I would seriously like to commend his non-chalance and invite him for a cuppa. So, what were you saying about the IPL, again?