Dear Mayans,

I just have one thing to say.

IN YOUR FACE.

*singing Everybody Dance Now in King Julian's voice*

Regards,
Me.

Blind Woman's Bluff - Kiddie Wars

You know those people that look at you in irritation when your kids are trampling around the mall in their squeaky shoes? I am one of them.

I really have nothing against kids (I find they are adorable in spite of the mass destruction they cause); I totally have it against parents that can't control their wards. Every time I decide to have a meal in peace, even breakfast for heavens sake, there is a huge family that walks in. Four uncles, four aunties, one- two difficult teenage girls and at least four kids out of which three take it on themselves to kick the waiter in his shins and drop all the forks. The last one simply sits there bawling his lungs out.

*massaging my headache*

I make it my business to stay away from noisy kids. (I know, I know. How far can I run, right?)
To my enormous surprise, turns out I'm actually good with them, one at a time that is.

This other day,we went to a cousins house who had a 4-5 year old boy. He's the kind that beat up your kid and is responsible for all the bite marks on the other boys. If you have the audacity to ask why he bites other boys, his nonchalant response would be, 'Becuzz my teeths are sharrp'.
For the un-initiated, I am a Telugu, married to a Tamilain..so I understand a select few words of the language.

I knew I had to break the ice or I'd forever be that chitthi* that never talks. Believe me when I tell you, the four year old gave me the attitude only deserving of the Prince of Prussia. I tried making friends with him for a good one hour and the bugger refused to even look at my face. Then he stopped being adamant and turned shy instead.
So I changed tactics. I ignored him. I mean, I looked at him and then turned away with an amused smile on my face. Slowly, he got his face out of the pillow and got out of his bed. Then he went and hid behind the door, peeping whenever he heard me speaking to his mom. After about 20 minutes of this, he sneaked up to me, hit my hand, yelled 'hallo' and promptly ran away.
His mom looked at me and she's like, 'He's not a shy kid, wtf is wrong with him?'

After about another hour, he figured I don't bite and came up to me. He grabbed my hand and he goes, 'I have soooo many toys, you can play if you want'. I know this is a total drawn out 'awwww' moment but by now I'm exhausted trying to figure out this kid.
I went with the flow instead and by the end of the evening we became such great friends that he decided he'd abandon his parents.
He dad asked him , 'Who's party are you on? Mummy party or daddy party'.
He's like, 'Illa, chitthi party'.**

Buhahahaha!



*chitthi = aunt
**'Illa, chitti party' - 'No, aunt's party.'

Stupid is as stupid does.

There is a moment, everyday when I think some people are better off if they simply remained eggs and never had a swimmer get to them. EVERY freaking day.

This other day I was sitting at a bakery and a bunch of college girls walked in. All of them carried these heavy duty smart phones.
Girl 1 : How come you don't use wifi?
Girl 2 (I am not kidding) : What to do...I don't have enough call balance on the phone.

*insert my incredulous expression here*
I choked on my coke and wanted to dunk the rest of it on her empty head.

At this point you must be thinking, 'They were both girls, what did you expect?' Hold on, hold on.

This old friend of mine pings me and half way through the convo..
Him : So what are you working as?
Me : I'm a Network Engineer.
Him : Is it a Call Center?

Wait, what?
Yeah, I quit my job, did a whole bunch of certifications for half a year just to show people the magic of  Internet Explorer. Which part of 'Network Engineer' did he not get?
I swear, had I been with him in person, I would have dug a hole, buried him and hopped a few times on it just to make sure he was good and dead.


This one's by far the most ridiculous one I was subject to. I was in this interview with his chubby guy in a blazer, who was a manager/ AVP/ VP something in this organisation. He asked me a question and I gave him a fairly straight forward answer.
He goes : I want details. I mean, do you dump ingredients directly in a pot when you cook or do you follow a recipe? I want the recipe.
My response?

I. Don't. Cook.

This guy just compared my professional skills to cooking, because I am a girl and I am married. Would he have asked the same question had it been a guy? Bloody stereotypes. 

One of these days, I'm gonna lose it and simply whack someone in the face.


P.S - I did end up getting that job.
P.P.S. - Not only do I cook, I am an excellent cook. Still, the guy got the point.

What the hell is wrong with Indian men?!

Ever since I was old enough to make my choices, (you know, selecting what chutney I want with my idli and what topping I wanted on my ice-cream) I was/ am the object of contempt/ chagrin to many a bald uncle and shiny saree adorned aunty because 'unorthodox' is written all over my name. Of course, I was the one to ask awkward questions, like openly pondering where babies came from or being the one to talk extra loud just because everyone was deeply meditating to an idol. I wouldn't go as far as to call it 'make-believe'. Imagine the kind of storm I'd kick up. Definitely not 'make-believe'. I'm thinking you'll get my point if I say 'make-believe' often enough. 'Make-believe'

Anyways.

My ranting today doesn't have anything to do with bald uncles and shiny aunties.
Picture this, you're at your new job, you're also the only girl in a roomful of guys ( remember those smart choices I was talking about?). Obviously, this doesn't bother you because you've been a neon sign-board all your life. There's a round of introduction and hand-shaking going on. The first guy comes around hand-shaking and you're next. One of these three things happen.

1. He awkwardly retracts his hand 'cos he's too shy/ conservative to shake your hand.
2. He skips you all together.
3. And this one's the worst, he bravely offers his hand, but NEVER all the way.

It's like half a handshake. Don't even talk about eye-contact. Me, being the neon board that I am, thrust my hand out all the way, and this guy grabs only the tips of my fingers and abruptly retracts his hand like I bit him. I wish I had.

You know what I feel like doing at this point?
Run in the opposite direction. Screaming.

Believe it or not, this has happened more times than I can count. No, not the screaming part.
Indian men either put a woman on a pedestal and bow before her, or treat her like a freaking commodity they own. What in the world happened to finding a balance? A stupid effing handshake doesn't amount to physical abuse. And no, we don't bite.

India is a land of many exotic wonders. Indian men, darling, for most part are not one of them*.


*None of this includes my husband. Teeheee! He's adorable. Really.

Of Misters And The Methanol

You know, if I weren't married, I'd probably be that girl bitching about how all my friends are married.

I mean, what is it with women and the need to belong anyway? Half the women I know are married just because the other half are. And the ones that aren't, are usually are getting drunk and cheering in bars because they really have nothing to cheer about.

I'm sorry, was that offensive?

Good.

Oh and the string of destructive boyfriends! I asked this particular friend of mine who had a jerk for a boyfriend about why she puts up with his non-sense. Seriously, this guy left her stranded in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night! Without batting an eyelid, she says, "I love him, we even went to this wedding together."
Really. That's what you're going with? Come on. Come on!

I know I sound silly and oxy-moronic that I'm married and I'm bitching about women that are getting married thinking this is what I'd do if I weren't married but I'm not. Silly that is. I am oxy-moronic.

My head hurts too.

Wait, I know I had a point in there somewhere.
The point is, ladies, don't settle. Don't put up with shit, in the name of love and other non-sense.

If you've been reading so far looking for a profound ending, congratulations. You've only ended up with barf post all the methanol.
Ew.
I did not need that picture in my head before I went to bed. On that note, bon nuit.

P.S. - Note that I've labelled 'cancer' on this post. Yes, it is that bad.
P.P.S. - I'm also that lazy to look up the correct spelling for 'bon nuit'.

Serotonin AWOL

I've hit rock bottom, once again and there are very very few things that make me want to drag myself out of bed. So I've decided to make list of things I can look back on when I'm left wanting for a silver lining.

1. Sleep it off :

That basically means don't bother getting out of bed in the first place. Come to think of it, it's a plan as good as any.

2. Happy Music :

Vote for song of the month and listen to it on repeat. 

Note to self : This song cannot suck, since my sanity depends on it.

Song for current month : Can't Smile Without you, by Barry Manilow

3. Chocolate :

In all its forms! Being partial towards rum and raisin flavored chocolate is accepted and also expected.

Or a mug of steaming hot chocolate milk, since milk does make up for my calcium quota for the month.

4. Cheesecake :

Need I say more? Serotonin's already peeking from it's hidey hole.

5. TLC :

This one time, I felt super weepy and down. So I went and found my husband. Then I got a blanket and cuddled up to him. He happily obliged and I promptly fell asleep without moving for a few hours. Read point 1 again.

6. Read a good book :

A nice hot cup of chai to go with it won't hurt either. Again, stay away from murders, horrors, zombies and anything else that might be disturbing. 

7. Put off all decisions :

Unless someone's dying,in which case, find someone to make the decision for you. You cant decide what flavor juice you want right now, so making life altering decisions can be, well, life altering.

8. Watch a movie :

And make sure it's something happy. Like Madagascar, or When Harry Met Sally or Despicable Me or..you get my drift. Stick to animations, you can never go wrong.

Works wonders when used in combination with points 3, 4 and 5.

9. Stay away from bright lights and sounds :

It wont do any good to your already messed up head. It's like Alice in Umbrella Corp lock-down in there.

10. If all else fails :

Sit down and have a good cry. Then get up and take a hot bath. The wonders of a nice, hot shower are truly undermined.

Yup. That'll get you through the rest of the day.

The 'F' Word.

Festivals.

You dirty mind, you.

It doesn't change the fact that it's just as offensive as the other F word.

It my world, every festival includes the following:
* The mad rush to make murukkus, laddus and gulab jamun. Three days in advance.
*Waking up at un-Godly hours those three days.
*Me, inevitably waking up a good 3-4 hours late, all three days.
*Incurring the wrath/ annoyance/ impatience and finally acceptance by my mother-in-law.
*My husband desperately making excuses for me, trying to save his ass and mine.

This happens without fail, on all the two dozen festivals Hindus have every year. In the same exact order.
On the day of the actual festival though, I am always the one wondering what the whole point is.
Does leaving my hair open really cause bad luck? Does not having a bindi on cause problems in my marriage? And why call all the ladies home and give them stuff? What's wrong with the color black? Or white for that matter.
I know the point, but I don't get the logic. It's like a mindless thing I'm used to doing, because we did it forever.
I believe in a lot of things, but then I also don't believe in a lot of things. I know there's a solution, but I don't have the guts to implement it. So I do the only one thing I can, try and balance the situation.
Of course, festivals are an excellent reason for people to come together. I made up on many a failed relationship on account of Diwali, Dusshera and what have you. That final harmony after all the madness is probably the only thing that keeps me going year after year.

When someone said 'ignorance is bliss', they really weren't kidding.