EXAM DIARIES

Needless to say, the stress and the apprehension regarding studying the right subject for the right day (it may sound stupid but trust me, sometimes it’s better to keep checking the time table every hour in a day, coz you never know when you might get the dates and the subjects wrong!) and not to mention, clearing one’s mind from all the impending “doomsday” thoughts like, writing wrongs answers for the right questions and writing right answers for the wrong questions... exams... I’ll just come out and say it; it’s just a bloody pain in the arse!!

One day before the BIG EGGJAAM.

Consider me. You have seen my picture on my blog page right? Keep that in mind and now imagine a girl wearing really shabby and ragged clothes, her hair oily and unruly (and even smelly if she decides to skip taking head bath for the fear of falling asleep on her study desk for hours and hours!). Well that ghastly image my friends, is me at my worst during these painful exam days.

Just yesterday, I was in one of my “best” ragged and torn salwaar suit. Weird I know, but these are called as my “shabby exam cloths” and without which I just can’t seem to comfortably sit in one place and even attempt to study! I’m a very careless person. I forget all the dieting I’m supposed to be doing and end up consuming more food than necessary (I call it, “the nervous exam diet”).

So yesterday evening, after waking up from a nice pre-study slumber, I was in the kitchen, all set to prepare my favourite food during all occasions: MAGGIE. While I was shedding tears as I sliced the blasted onions and pretended to be this woman who cries for no reason (one should touch upon one’s acting skills while one is shedding free tears!), I heard the door bell ring and some unexpected guests decided to show up at this unruly time (unruly for me as I was stuck in the kitchen, in my shabby clothes, teary eyed and overall smelling of onions L ). Okay, definitely not an avatar I’d like to present myself in other than my mom, dad, granny and bro.

Even amidst this sticky situation, the first thought that came to me was “Thank god, I didn’t put the Maggie into the boiling water”, because the thought of sharing my precious Maggie (while my hungry tummy growled with rage) with outsiders was more mortifying than going out the kitchen and facing them in my current get-up!

As the guests were being loud and chit-chatty with my mom and granny, I took some time to groom myself to appear like a normal girl and not a complete cave-person. Not much of a progress, to tell the truth. So abandoning the sinking ship I braced myself and walked out to the living room.

An aunty and an uncle were sitting on the sofa and when the uncle saw me, he looked taken-aback for a bit (or maybe that’s how I thought his reaction was, as I would always get a shock to see myself in the mirror during these treacherous times!). But he’s a friendly chap and asked me whether I was done with my education. I told him solemnly that my exam was tomorrow and I was battling for a war at the kitchen. He said, “Good, good, nice food always helps and best wishes for your exams”.

Next I turned towards the aunty and she looked like she would faint if she looked at me again so she didn’t say much to me but instead, showed her many jewelleries she wore to my mom and complained loudly, “You know, we roamed around a few wrong streets until we finally found your "little" house! It’s so dangerous to walk in the night in this area. And the streets are so confusing here. Our (big) house is so easy to spot in Bangalore”. 

While my mom politely nodded her head in agreement, I wanted to get up and rip the woman’s head apart. First of all to any normal person’s eye, my house is far from being called as “little”. It’s no less than a castle to my eyes! And this lady keeps visiting our house with her husband four to five times in 3 months and yet she complains of getting lost in this unholy fashion. But my saner mind warned me to behave and not think like a barbaric cave-girl and so for politeness sake, I sat and listened to her stupid ramblings for 10 whole minutes.

My stomach was growling loudly at this time and my head was starting to ache and I couldn’t bear to listen to her shrill voice anymore (I was thinking on the lines of interrupting her by saying, “Auntieee, shhhh”). And so, when I was sure everyone was happily ignoring me, I got up and literally ran upstairs.

I couldn’t study in an empty stomach. Gah! More wastage of time and I had already wasted a lot of time that day. And so, to while away the time i.e., to wait for the beloved guests to take leave, I opened my MS Word and started writing all these things. I wrote only about two paragraphs and then ended up listening to songs while reading other blogger’s entry to the Lakme contest (But this, I don’t call as a waste of time, never!).

Finally, after an hour and a half, the guests took leave and I came tumbling downstairs and straight to kitchen like a tornado to finish my unfinished business of preparing delicious, steamy, hot MAGGIE. And before my younger brother, would come and ask me to share, I transported all of it to my room and locked myself safely and for next 2 hours, enjoyed savouring it slowly as I watched a thriller movie called “GONE”. So much for wasting my time right?

Once I was done with all these, sudden realization hit me that I had just about 12 hours for the exam next day. So had no other escape but to study and occasionally, check my mail for any more votes for my previous post (really, it’s all new to me, getting so many votes and all... I feel as happy as eating a candy whenever a blogger votes for me!).

On the EGGJAAM day

Two hours to go and still 2 more units to look upon and memorise the important stuff. Time to shed my shabby clothes and get into the even shabbier college uniform (Don’t ask, ours is the one of those engineering colleges that has made uniform as a compulsory attire. Miserable dress to wear!).

Not my best day today. The subject seemed too tough to even memorise or mug-up. In a desperate attempt to add some luck to this doomsday, I scout my dresser for a pair of lucky silver earrings that I always wear during the days I feel everything will go down-town and after 15 minutes of searching, I finally found it. Now mentally I felt a little satisfied but still logically I was still in truck loads of trouble as I hadn’t studied everything completely.

On the way to my college, I passed a temple and every time I pass it, I pray to god regarding something or the other (just to be on the safer side!). During college days, I would pray to god to give some sense to some of my lecturers to behave like adults and leave students like me alone. Other than that, my favourite praying topic is to ask god to keep my mind active so that at least, I can happily write a poem or a story during class hours. But today, as I passed the temple I solemnly prayed to god, to clear my mind so that I can write the best answers possible to the questions I knew and to extend some special ability in me in order to create beautifully carved nonsense on my exam booklet for those questions I had no idea whatsoever what the answer was!  

As accustomed to my constant antics, I arrived at the exam hall 7-8 minutes late (last minute studies, you see!). I caught my friend’s eye and we smiled at each other. And while I was smiling at her, this was what I was thinking, “Look at her, she has studied so much that she has come to the exam hall on time. Am I the only one who hasn’t studied well today?”

And while my friend smiled at me, this was what she was thinking, “Look at her. Always cool, composed and as usual late to exam hall. I bet she got more time to study. No message from her for two days. And no sign of her on facebook too. She must have really gone underground to study well this time.”

But the truth as you and I know, I was just being my lazy, stupid self for the past 2 days!!

The after effects of seeing the question paper for the day!!

When you know you are screwed up and nothing can stop you from it, what can you do at the most? I’m definitely not the type who runs from the exam hall on seeing the semester’s toughest question paper. Nor am I the type that ends up silently crying upon seeing the ugly paper set by an even uglier examiner at VTU. Instead, uncontrollable laughter started to engulf me. For the first 15 minutes of the exam all I did was stare at the question paper and laugh (inwardly) while struggling to control my lips from turning upwards and creating a scene in front of the invigilator.

Once the initial shock and laughter had left me, I got more composed and this time got down to business. There were quite a handful of questions to which I knew 70% of the answer. Fair enough! I can build up passable content for these things. Then my eyes drifted to those questions I had no idea they even existed in this subject. If time would permit me, I decided to use my old tactics: repeat the same answers but twist the words and make them appear like they are new answers. It works most of the time. Whoever corrects an Engineering paper, looks for the amount of content written i.e. how many pages a student has filled in the booklet. If I have managed to fill at least 20 -22 sheets out of a 42 sheet booklet, I'm well on the safer (passing) side. For more details of of my tactics, check this.

From time to time, my eyes swept the exam hall. All my classmates seemed to be writing beautiful answers with energetic composures. I knew then that I was the only person who had a sure chance to flunk if luck turned its back upon me.

But in a strange way, I believe luck is still with me today. As soon as the exam got over, I saw all my classmates (even the toppers!) complaining how tough the paper was and everyone were silently looking up to the sky and praying that they at least get the golden 35 (passing marks).

At one hand I was relieved everyone had performed badly and not just me. But on the other hand I was (and still am) feeling apprehensive that if toppers started to get the golden 35 marks, then would that leave me any passing chance?

Strange how my mind works at times. And even stranger how I’m writing about all these at this time of the night, instead of getting some sleep so that I can study well tomorrow. There’s talks of Bharath Bandth (Nation-wide strike) on the 31^st and if that is the case, my exam the day after will be postponed and I’ll be left to deal with that subject after the other papers.

Desperately hoping for the strike to take place on the 31^st. Else tomorrow I’ll be rubbing my nose in yet another text book.

***

P.S: This is not a figment of my imagination. All the characters, especially the character portrayed by me, are true and very real. Any resemblance to others’ lives is truly joyous and I welcome those people with wide-open arms to join my lonesome rank during these tough times!!

Summer in Brazil

It was one hell of a summer this year. Even wearing the finest quality cotton cloths wouldn’t withstand the amount of heat hitting my body every second in a day. Every morning when I left my home, I would look fresh as a daisy but one trip to my office was enough to wilt all the morning freshness out of my physical being. And the Brazil summer they say, was only just beginning.

I couldn’t bear this Brazilian heat. It was a new job and a new place but me being from the Canadian country-side, you could imagine my state to adjust to this very new and different environment. I hadn’t even packed my cloths properly to commemorate my move to Brazil’s most talked about, hottest place: Rio de Janeiro.  I had moronically packed all my thick-full sleeved tops and corduroy pants and jeans and tight knitted leggings.

The first day I entered my new work place, I found my fellow colleagues (all dressed in shorts and extremely informal sleeveless and deep necked tops!) look up at me with pity and amusement in their eyes as they took in my ensemble. I was the only person who was dressed from head to toe and sweating profusely, making me look like I had just got out of a hot water tub, fully dressed.

My boss called me to his cabin and gave me my first assignment as a travel reporter- change my wardrobe, visit the beaches, bathe in the sun, do a bit of snorkeling and surfing, socialize with the hottest Brazilian men (and women too if you are into it!, he added with a smirk), let your hair down and have some fun, the Brazilian way!

I was taken aback. Never had I had a boss who ordered me out of his office just to have some fun. Waiting for the cache, I asked him tentatively, “So you want me to just go out there and have fun? And I suppose you have a dead line for me to come up with an article of my expeditions?”

The boss gave a loud laugh before saying, “This is Brazil my dear, and this is how we roll. And also I just can’t bear to see you come here in your military outfit. You need to blow off some steam. Forget you are in Canada. I order you to get out there to the beaches and just have some fun and also find someone who helps you change your wardrobe” he eyed my baggy jeans and full sleeved shirt with pity. “So I’m giving you a few days off. Report back to work in a few days when you are dressed like you belong to the festive carnival!” And that was how I was shooed off from my work place on an extended holiday.

With a boss like that, I was starting to like Brazil already! But where do I find someone who helps me fit in comfortably with the Brazilian wardrobe? I hardly knew anyone here. I visited the nearby beach from my office that afternoon. I saw men and women sprawled over the hot sand, soaking up the sun in just their bikinis. I just couldn’t remember the last time I wore a swimming suit. May be 20 years ago when I was about 8, I thought sadly.

I sat on one of the beach chairs under the umbrella, sipping coconut juice and watched those beautiful Brazilian ladies in their skimpiest bikinis, showing off their curves so confidently. May be the boss is right; I really need to blow off some steam. But I can’t just wear a bikini all of a sudden. I don’t even know how to carry myself in those things. “I probably look like some red sausage bumbling about on the sand!” I said out loud in exasperation.

“Honey, if I were you, I would look gorgeous in a bikini I tell you that”, came a voice from my right. I looked sideways and noticed a pretty girl with long brown hair and in an even prettier sunshine yellow and flowery dress, sitting cross legged on the beach chair and staring out at the sea.

“Oops, sorry I didn’t notice you sitting here. I was just talking to myself and hadn’t realised I said the last sentence out loud”, I said in embarrassment.

The girl just smiled and looked at me, “I’m Kyra by the way. And judging by your look, you are very new to Brazil, am I right?”

“Hi Kyra, nice to meet you and I’m Nancy. Yep, you are not the first one to notice it today!” I laughed.

And soon we got into talking. Kyra was here on a vacation and she was on a fashion and make-over expedition. When I pointed out to her that she looked more fabulous than ever with her current ensemble, she laughed her pretty girly laugh as her sparkly blue eyes looked into mine and said “Well, maybe I’m on an expedition to give you an overall make-over”.

“You know, I really would appreciate that. You look like a girl who knows where a good buy is. So if you are not busy or anything could you hang out with me on a shopping spree?” I asked glad to have found someone to guide me through the unknown shops on the Brazilian streets.

Kyra got up from her chair and put on her big hat. “I’ll be glad to accompany you. So come on Nancy, let’s hit the shops right now. But first you’ll need a big hat and lots of sun-screen. Never let your skin get burnt. It’s a real pain I tell you”, winking at me, she led me to a small cosmetic shop and made me buy one of those Lakmé products with lots of SPF.

“Hey look, that girl on the cover of the sun-screen lotion, she looks exactly like you, with yellow dress and all” I showed her the cover.

“Well how about that! Maybe I’ve done some modelling that I don’t know about!” Kyra said making me laugh. I was glad to have befriended this witty, care-free humorous girl.  

That evening, Kyra and I had visited about two dozen shops all over Rio and that included me burning quite a big hole in my bank balance. Nonetheless, with Kyra’s help I was able to buy really good stuff that ranged from glittery accessories like stoned necklaces and bracelets and feathery ear rings to fabulous clothes like breezy, flowery dresses that were so popular in these parts (and which incidentally complimented my ample curves to my surprise!) and many colourful and fun looking sandals and foot wear.

I did had my doubts when we entered the bikini shop (I suddenly became very aware of all the extra pounds that I had put on recently) but Kyra insisted that I bury my shyness and discomfort as women of all ages and sizes walked around happily in bikinis. “So you have got absolutely nothing to be shy about. And a woman your size is considered sexy, not fat!” she reassured me and that made me feel a lot more comfortable as I solemnly bought two pairs of colourful bikini’s myself.

The next day, I woke up with excitement. Today Kyra had promised to take me out for some sun bathing and relaxation. So I wore my new flowery dress, and sun glasses and pink slip-ons and headed out of my place to the beach. Kyra was already lying on the warm sand, applying sun-tan lotion and she looked amazing in her blue bikini. As I approached her, Kyra grinned at me and said, “Come now sun-shine, let’s see that pretty bikini we shopped last night”.

I was hesitant at first as I eyed my surrounding for any on-lookers, but there were so many men and women disrobing, it really didn’t look like I would be the centre of attention. With a sigh of relief, I removed my dress and lay down on the sand. “Don’t forget your sun screen”, Kyra reminded me again.

I reached into my bag and pulled out Lakmé sun-expert and was in the process of applying some of it to my back when I heard Kyra call my name from a distance. I looked up to see her running towards the sea with a surf board in her hand. I got up and ran to catch up with her in my red bikini and I heard a few wolf whistles at me from random Brazilian guys who were playing volley ball nearby. I imagined gleefully that I might look like a life-guard from the Bay Watch series!

“Kyra, wait-up! I don’t know how to surf!” I called to her, but she was already far off into the sea and she just waved for me to join her.

“I could teach you how to ride the waves, if you like miss.” I turned around to see an attractive Brazilian guy in shorts. “I am Emmanuel and I teach for the beginners”, he added in a strong accent. So I found myself a hot tutor too!

For the next two hours, I graced from being ridiculously clumsy on the surf board to actually sitting on it at least once. Emmanuel was a good tutor and very patient too to handle all my clumsy antics and I immediately took a liking towards him. “You come here every day and I teach you, eh?” he asked me hopefully and I nodded my head in excitement and waved him good-bye for the day.

I saw Kyra drying her hair and galloped towards her with a weird grin on my face. “I see somebody found a new interest in surfing!”She laughed at me seeing that ridiculous look on my face. “Um, you know how it is...” was all I could manage to say without blushing like a little girl.

That night, Kyra took me to an awesome pub by the sea shore and we had a blast with tequilas and martinis. Boosted by our drinks we both invaded the dance floor and I felt like the night would never end. And I bumped into Emmanuel on the dance floor too and we got to know each other more. The night was turning out to be magical after-all.

The next few days were as exciting as the first day on the beach. I was hanging out more with Emmanuel both on and off the beach as we went snorkeling, paragliding and he even taught me how to skate. And gradually, I saw very little of Kyra. She was always around whenever I had any wardrobe or make-over emergencies. Other than that, she used to magically disappear from my sight.

Very soon, my extended vacation had stretched over a week. And within this span of time, I had changed from being a shy, introverted Canadian girl to this care-free, fun-loving and almost-tanned-enough-to-be-called- Brazilian Woman.

I had never given much thought to my wardrobe or make-over’s. Back in my Canadian home it really didn’t matter what I wore as anything I wore would be covered by a thick jacket and a scarf. But in Brazil, one had to be in their bare minimum in order to withstand the heat. And all thanks to Kyra, she had helped me out when I needed proper fashion guidance. Now I can confidently walk into a bikini shop and select the one that suits me the best. Kyra helped me overcome my silly fears and shyness. And only because of that, I was able to talk and hangout with Emmanuel. Kyra lit up a side of me that I didn’t know existed in me till now.

And where is Kyra now, do you ask? Well, Kyra is a part of me. She is that bubbly-sided personality in me who lights me up from deep down. Like you, even I thought Kyra was a different person altogether, until recently, when I looked into the mirror, a pair of sparkling blue eyes stared right back at me and that’s when I realized, me and Kyra were the same person.

There’s always a Kyra within every girl. You just have to trust yourself and boost up your confidence to bring her out!

 ***

P.S: After two weeks of a wonderful vacation, it was time for me to get back to work. I walked into my work place in one of my flowery dress and all my colleagues gave me happy thumbs up as some shouted "Aye Caramba!!" and my boss’s voice drifted over to me from his cabin, “I see the vacation indeed helped you fit in. Welcome back Nancy and I expect your travel report by tomorrow. Now get to work!”

P.P.S:  Well as I type now, I’m ending my travel report with a double post-script. This is Nancy, signing off and Kyra says hi too!

________________________________________________________________________

This post is written for "The Lakme Diva Blogger Contest" and my post on IndiBlogger can be found here.

This contest is sponsored by: 

Find yer man, woman!!

I just couldn’t help it today. I had to watch a movie.  But not just any movie, I ended up watching the movie of a spinster who writes colourful tales about her love-life in her small diary and hence, very rightfully it’s a movie that goes by the name, “Bridget Jones Diary”.

Apart from the witty and humorous British dialogues and the many viewings of Bridget’s colourful panty closet that ranged from huge grandma panties to some sleazy animal printed ones, I couldn’t help but appreciate the task a single woman has to handle all her life, just to get the right man.

Is there even such a thing as a right man? Even if there is or “are”, how would one know who that bastard is? They are everywhere- firstly in every spinster’s dreams, then on the various television channels and then there are a few from work, some old college friends or even a few school friends for that matter and not to mention the many handsome faces one eyes on the road in general.

But these men are like mirages. They look too real and even reachable from a distant but if a girl even loses her place and falls for such flashy stuff, she sure is gonna realise that what she “thought” is real, is indeed fake.

Ultimately, such befuddlement would often lead to the usual heart breaks, teary nights, excessive eating and emotionally moronic behaviours that would in-turn lead to some scruffy embarrassments on the outward public eye. But Bridget Jones faced all of it and still found her guy at the end. How Charming!!

If this turned out to be true in real life, I wouldn’t be sitting here and writing this stuff for starters. Yet I’m a fan of the movie. Because not even in the movies these days they show an average looking, slightly fat woman, working in some average job, leading an average life, do her thing in order to finally find and accept her man.

All thanks to the jazzy, flashy entertainment industry, there is really not much of a centre stage for average looking women. Entertainment has its protocols to get their T.R.P’s or whatever the hell they strive for these days. But very quickly even the real life is turning into reel these days. It’s a bummer most of these jazzy protocols apply more to women rather than men. But that’s that and can’t be said or done more regarding this. It’s a pity, really. One woman’s necessity is another woman’s horror show!

Now coming back to Bridget, finding a man is no mean feat. It’s a bloody task indeed. One cannot enact a fairy tale by sitting in some chamber and waiting for her prince charming to arrive coz F.Y.I, they would never arrive!

Bridget Jones (Renee Zellweger), a 32 year old spinster decides to take matters into her own hands and ends up appearing at her work place in vanishing mini-skirts and see-through blouses and as planned, gets her boss (Hugh Grant) follow her around with his heart throbbing at all the wrong places! Funny how the world works! If a woman is “seeing” someone, then other men (who ignored the same woman initially) start to show more attention towards her. So that’s how Bridget unknowingly manages to get her nemesis’s (Colin Firth) attention towards her.

It’s a cute movie and an excellent time pass to watch it but how much of it can be brought about to real life? “How Bridget can you get to nail some handsome guy!” the risk involved in the very task of finding a right guy or just any guy for that matter, is imaginably grave. But heart wants something the mind doesn’t appreciate.

So if one is all set to take matters into one’s own hands to find their man, then one should also be ready to face all the atrocities and humiliations when one has thrown one-self very publicly to a mountainous task called “Find yer man, woman!”.

Now the question is “How much embarrassments are you ready to endure in order to find a right guy?”, “Is it even really necessary to enter such dangerous gamble in one’s life?” ... tough questions, but I don’t like taking unwanted risks in life unless it’s really exciting. I always had a heart towards adventure but that was regarding innocent mountaineering or hiking. Now, this is a very different kind of adventure and I’m not so sure how cut out I am for this, to tell the truth.

But if the end results of entering such unknown duels in my life would lead me to be surrounded by similar versions of smirky Hugh Grants and gentlemanly Colin Firths, then why not?!

Sigh, dreams I tell ya, they ruin you!!

P.S: With exams just a few days away, this is what I end up blogging about!! Guilty! ;) 

The Drama-Queens of Parliament

You don’t need a cartoon to know how slow the system is!

Every news channel today was covering the on-going row/drama that was unfolding at the parliament houses. Topic for this childishly heated argument: A seemingly humorous caricature of Dr. B.R.Ambedkar and Jawaharlal Nehru.

Back in the year 1949, the alleged piece of cartoon was first published by the celebrated cartoonist Shankar Pillai. Back then, the same parliament had applauded his works and even awarded him various national prashasthi’s like the Padma Shree, Padma Bhushan etc.

About 60 years later, in the year 2006, the same cartoon was republished nationwide in a small category of class 11^th NCERT text books. All was going well until on a fine Monday morning like today, some political dude who goes by the name Thol. Thirumavalavan woke up, caught sight of the caricature in the text book and decided to shake up the sleepy parliament houses by voicing rage on who decided to publish such atrociously insulting and yet funny cartoon in a kid’s text-book.

To grab all the lime-light in this seemingly opportune moment, Mr. Thol showed the members seated at the mad-house parliament how powerful he is by agitatedly voicing the insult the cartoon had caused to the nation heroes Mr. Ambedkar and Nehru. He even had fun pointing his finger at the scapegoat of the day: HRD minister Kapil Sibal. Poor Sibal had no idea that today he would be invited to the mad-house parliament to apologise for a mistake for which he bore no responsibility.

The cartoon depicts Ambedkar with a whip in his hand and sitting on a snail that represents the slow moving pace of Indian constitution and Nehru is backing Ambedkar with another whip in his hand in order to speed up the country’s constitution. The back ground depicts a gang of aggressive communists who are tired of the slow running of our government and are on their way to take matters into their own hands. Alas, an angry mob can be easily misled by just pointing a finger at another direction.

The more I observed the truth behind this 60 year old cartoon, the more I felt inclined to agree that whatever happened at the mad-house parliament today, was somewhat related to the caricature at hand on which they were heatedly arguing to bring about a ban. Mr. Thol outrageously staggered a wrong momentum at the house and most of the members inside the parliament who can’t take two decisions on their own, blindly nodded their approval on banning and removal of this cartoon from the NCERT text books hence forth.

I guess most of them backed up this decision to ban the cartoon for the fear of losing their seats and not because the cartoon really brought about the alleged insult to long demised Dr. Ambedkar. Even the scapegoat, Sabil had no other option but to apologise in front of all the members present at the mad-house parliament.

Whatever happened to freedom of speech? I still fathom on the fact that after more than 60 years of the same piece of cartoon getting published and more than 6 years later of its second republishing, what caused the government to nod blindly and approve the ban on this particular piece of cartoon? It’s so stupid. One man wants attention and the government mundanely gives him that attention by unwittingly high-lighting such trivial issues as this.

And the media revolves around this small issue and projects to the larger community as if this is a grave matter to be viewed on every news channel. While the media was highlighting the unwanted drama to the nation for hours, there was another breaking news which was more important than this cartoony issue and which most of them failed to notice as it was being shown at the bottom screen of some news channels and while being completely ignored by the rest: the flight crash in Nepal, killing 13 Indians. 

I sat in front of the TV for half an hour to see if these news channels would give more details regarding the flight crash. Alas, one can’t expect more news on trivial flight crashes while the media is dancing around the mad-house parliament.

Maybe after this silly drama had ended, the news got shifted to the plane crash, but that’s the issue plaguing our nation isn’t it? The media exists to showcase unimportant issues first and important issues later.

Now that they have successfully banned and highlighted this cartoony issue to such a height, all the kids from class 11^th are surely going to be talking about this famous cartoon for days to come. They can ban something like this from a text book, but they can’t ban the issue completely from an Indian mind.

Silly Politics!

***

links:
http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/article3409271.ece
http://www.deccanchronicle.com/channels/nation/north/ambedkar-cartoon-aircel-maxis-issues-disrupt-lok-sabha-545

The NOT so IPL-ish TALE

Ever since my dad got transferred back to Mysore, there seems to be an added competition at home when it comes to who gets the T.V remote. During the days when dad was in Banglore, when it came to the remote, I used to fight with my granny (ajji). Ajji is one tough cookie. She watches nearly 10 serials/soaps a day. Now, I’m not complaining. She deserves to relax as she is the one who feeds us with her deliciously cooked food. But there are days when I feel like watching some T.V myself. And all my primetime shows gets clashed with ajji’s never-ending soaps. But that doesn’t stop me from catching at least a few minutes of my shows "in-between”. I’ll be waiting eagerly with the remote in my hand, hoping for her exaggeratedly ridiculous T.V soap to arrive at an Ad break and that’s when I grab my opportunity to quickly surf the channels that I want to see. Even though it’s only for a few minutes before ajji would say “Haku” and mono-syllabically remind me to change the channel back to her precious elastic band soap (I call them elastic band because, they elongate a single story plot to such an extent that the story looks stagnant for a period of about a month!), I find peace in the fact that I got to watch some T.V that day. And sometimes I shamelessly end up enjoying ajji’s soaps too but I never give her the satisfaction that I've enjoyed it as I keep retorting in-between as to how ridiculous the characters are!

That’s how mine and ajji’s daily routine was. But today when I came downstairs at prime-time to catch some T.V action, I noticed an extra competitor ready with the remote in his hand to change the channel the moment ajji’s soap entered an Ad break. My dad grinned at me and purposefully waved the remote in my face before he flipped the T.V to show some IPL action. “Ugh, now I have to endure cricket too”, I grumbled in a low voice before seating myself on the sofa with an air of resignation.

When it comes to cricket, all I can do is just doze off. I just don’t have the required interest in it. I always felt amazed how those people seated in the stadium are able to sit through an entire match. Forget the test match, even an ODI takes forever to finish. And hence T-20 looks like a mere game of 20 minutes to the hard-core fans. But for me, cricket means slow-moving of time. I just don’t have the patience to sit through an entire match. And so here I was, sitting and grumbling and occasionally (despite the non-interest) asking dad who the captain of Delhi Daredevil was. I had forgotten how fun it is to watch a cricket match with dad around. He makes the whole game look like its being played by a bunch of clowns. He always has something funny to say about each cricketer. So I chucked the broodings of missing some of my shows today and I realized that I was glad to have my dad back as I really missed his funny quips on daily basis.

After sometime, dad dozed off and started snoring. By then, his funny quips and interesting insights on the cricketers playing that day (DD v/s CSK) got me glued to the IPL fever and as the match looked to be in the favour of Chennai Super kings, I wanted to see if I was correct. Ajji, seeing that her son had successfully dozed off, happily and stealthily tried to change the channel back to her precious soap. “Ajji, naanu nodthidini cricket na. In en match mugiyathe”, I told ajji that even I’m watching the match and asked her not to change the channel for some time. Now it was my granny’s turn to grumble but nonetheless she obliged and surrendered me the remote.

Now, I knew that Chennai would win today. So I ended up observing some “off-field” stuffs that I had failed to notice till now. Whenever the cricketers were not batting or bowling or fielding, the camera took interest in the crowd. Apart from frequently focusing on the dancing cheer-leaders, the camera-man made sure the entire nation got a few second glimpses of all the pretty and charming damsels present at the podium that night. This was no surprise as IPL is built for only 3 things: “Entertainment, entertainment and entertainment”.

But what made me laugh were the different reactions that would dance on these pretty faces whenever they noticed that their face was all over the big-screens at the podium. One girl laughed with triumph and ended up jumping up and down with hysteria on having seen herself on the big-screen. Another girl bravely faced the camera and gave her most charming smile. And some ladies would plainly ignore that they were being shown on the big-screen. 

Apart from the cheer-leaders and the random pretty girls that they captured on the big-screen from time to time, the camera-man made sure even the men got some action. And so he zoomed-out and made sure all the men were seen on the big-screen “at a time”. Poor men, they looked like they belonged to a band on monkeys. They indeed acted like monkeys, jumping on one another just to make sure they could briefly see themselves on the big-screen. No doubt, they would go home that day and tell their mothers, wives and children an exaggerated version of how they got captured on-screen for a long time!

In the end, despite myself I had to agree that this IPL, though flashy in many ways, is fun to watch now and then. Apart from the usual cricket, I liked observing the people present on the stadium today. I don’t think they would ever get bored if they are seated in the podium. Firstly the cricket in itself is such an exciting fever to have and celebrate when they are in the stadium and secondly and most importantly, the mere excitement and the expectancy of having to see their face on the “big-screen” (may be even for a second!) is also an exciting feeling to have for any die-hard cricket fan.

Image source- google.

Acrostic Short Story- Frozen Time

FROZEN TIME

Forever igniting the fire within me,

Reverberating the waves of despair;

Only to find a deeply burnt hole,

Zoned right through my once naive heart.

Empathy empathized me to trust you,

Neglecting my heart’s health as it consumed your repeated lies.

Time felt frozen with you around.

Ingloriously drowned myself in blind faith. Alas,

My love for you froze with the frozen time,

Ever-lasting love ceased to exist the moment you chose to desert me       with a mangled and bruised heart.

Written For:  Acrostic Only, Poetry Jam

More Flash-55 Fictions

1) Eyes Speaks All

Standing inside a bus, I saw him staring at me. His piercing gaze caught my attention. His eyes challenged me. Well, two can play this game! I stared right back at him and our eye-contact continued till the next stop. As I passed him, smiling and ruffling his hair, the little kid said "Bye Didi"!!

2) Splash of Color

“Red, Blue, Green, Orange... all those colours you sport yourself and yet you dare tease me??”

“Colourful, colourful, you are colourful!!” came the jeering.

“But it’s only a streak of pink”, she replied ruefully, checking out her new hair-do from the mirror.

“Behind her, the happy parrot continued to guffaw, “Colourful, colourful, you are colourful!!”

3) Mind Games

Tiny thoughts tickled my mind;

His tiny trots engulfed me to find.

Where did he go? Looked around;

Caught him disappearing behind the forbidden blind-fold.

I followed him, increasing my pace;

Was pulled back by man without a face.

His gurgling laugh made me scream.

“Mommy, wake-up! It’s just a dream!!”

Relief washed over me.

4) Flirt Fail

“Hey there, you need a ride?”

“No thanks, I’m married”, she flashed him her ring-finger.

“Come on baby, get in the car. I don’t mind”, he winked at her playfully.

She glared at him and continued to walk towards the house.

She turned back and yelled, “Honey, quit fooling around and bring in the groceries!”

***