Apr 6, 2009

Sweaty at 7 PM

Disclaimer : This here is a story of my last week. So either don't read or don't complain.

Yes, In chennai even when you walk back from the beach at 7PM, you sweat. It was that stumid
*. But before we go into that, let's rewind a week of my life.
...................

The one where everything went bad

It all started with the old bread that mom had left for me in the fridge in case i needed an urgent fix for my breakfast. Apparently, old bread attracts mould. Fungi baffle me. How they can spawn from virtually everything, is something amazingly trivial, yet amazing. Then I try the dosa maavu(batter) that my mom had kept int he fridge. It has small airholes and a colorless liquid has collected on top. If only it were odorless. But to hand it to it, it was over two weeks in there. And then the vadu mango (ask me or google it if you don't know) got fungus-ed because it wasn't stirred once in two days. Now how did I not know that! :. Next up. Rice. Rice turns yellow-ish. And smells. But it doesn't beat milk. Milk slightly smells AND turns curdy which is helluva lot tougher to wash. I lost a litre and a half of milk. You know what beats milk? Adai(Ask me or google it if you don't know) maavu. Trust me with this. If you have adai maavu more than 10 days old in your fridge, throw it away without looking at it or smelling it. It was about to spawn some living thing and it smelled EVIL. No kidding.

The one where he ironed his shirt while wearing it.

What do 20 year olds who sleep late the previous night and forget alarms do when there is no one at home for a week? Wake up late and find out he has no clothes to wear to college if he doesn't iron the shirt he washed the previous day, among other things :P. So first I have to search for the iron box because my mom trusts me so much that she hid it, only to tell me where when an irritated-me called her up. Then I started pressing it when I see it is useless because the hands are all over the place. So I decide to wear it after pressing the back alone. I look a the mirror. I look at the clock. Mirror. Clock. Mirror. Clock. Tick.Tock. I switch off the power, and press the front of the shirt while wearing it. Yes, it was a little hot but the result was better than before.

The one where he slept while all hell broke loose.

There are some moments in life that you'll never forget, like the first date, the first kiss, etc etc. Now this is one moment, of a totally different genre altogether, that I'll ne-he-he-he-he-ver forget. (Thank you Dr.Cox for teaching me how to change a two syllable word to a six syllable word) It goes like this. We guys at class have this movie making contest, and a movie to shoot for our lab (Media lab). And we have to submit it the next day. Result-> Staying awake the entire night. And also, since I'm the one who knows editing, I have to stay awake the next day too, while all the others sleep. And I don't take bath the nest day either, because then I wouldn't have time to finish it. So in the end, a tired and disgruntled me comes home at 2000 hrs and has a nice hot bath after 37 hours of continuously staying awake. And then I put my pants on.(Something which might seem insignificant but you'll understand as the story goes on). And then I lie down to let my overgrown hair dry. And then, I doze off. Ok, doze is an understatement. I slept like a LOG. Umm, probably a log that won't break even if you hit it with an aze because it is titanium coated, even. See, I get 12 calls from mom on my phone which is near my ear, plenty more on my landline, and by this time, mom and dad, who are in chennai, start worrying. Dad asks his friend to check on me, and he sees that all vehicles are at home and the door is locked from the inside, and three lights are on. Yes, I switched three of them on before "dozing off". He rings the door bell for like 2 minutes continuous, and I was impervious to that also. So dad calls up a few of my friends and Shiva comes to check on me too. He calls the secretary of my apartment, and to cut a long story short, after half an hour more they use ladders, and peer into windows and finally, on the third window attempt, find me sprawled on the bed, dozing away to glory WITH pants on, (there!). He shouts out my name, and then it happened. One mention of my name did what a dozen missed calls, 40 or so calls on my landline, and 2 minutes of door-belling couldn't do. I woke up. And was surprised to find heads peering in through three windows. I opened the door, and asked my friend to come in as though nothing was the matter. He asked me to look at the time and I go "WOAH! 10.30? What are you doing here?". Thankfully, he didn't feel like hitting me, because he was laughing at how idiotic I looked. The next hour was spent explaining this to the people who'd called and were mightily pissed before breaking out with laughter. I had dinner after that, yes.
................
After those few days, I came to chennai where I am, now, for the 13th day of my Patti's last rites. It's been like a reality show in here; Relatives, having the mother of all baseless arguments originating from virtually nothing, like fungi :P, which make me appreciate my sanity; 4 hour scrubs marathon; A ROFLing account settling session among my relatives, where confusion reigned supreme, and when I stated the vazhappazha joke analogy, everyone, yesEVERY single ONE had to say that joke, one after the other, so that in the end there were 8 renditions of the same joke, and I hit myself for saying it in the first place; Food at 98/79, Padmanabha nagar, NOT made by patti; and an evening walk to the beach at 1800 hours because I was bored, are few things that had transpired, before now. I sat at the beach in front of the waves for ten or so minutes and listened to 10000 days by Tool, while the sky was orange. And when I walked back, it was sweaty and windy.
Really.
*Stumid - (adj) A portmanteau of stupid and humid meaning stupidly humid. Chennai is a stumid city.
P.S : Knock-Knock joke fans, this way, please.

Knock Knock

Knock, Knock.
Who's there?
April.
April, who?
April Fool.
......
Knock, Knock.
Who's there?
Kelly.
Kelly who?
Kelly Hu.
Kelly who?
Kelly Hu.....
.......
Knock. Knock.
Who's there?
Boo.
Boo who?
Boo hoo! did you wet your diapers?!
........
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Who let the dogs out!
Who let the dogs out, who?
Who, who who!
........
Knock, Knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana, who?
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana, who?
Knock Knock.
Orange.
Orange who?
Orange-who glad I didn't say Banana?!
.............
The first four were by yours truly and the last one I heard from Vidyuth. I have a newfound love for knock, knock jokes. Does it show?

Apr 4, 2009

10 days or less

So why have I named this post so?
The title of this post is a ripoff from Morgan Freeman's, no, Paz Vega's film, 10 Items or less, which I saw a few days back and found good.
So why does this feature here? Because, I've been home alone for 10 days now.
Oh my god I've become a question talker! :O

Home alone for 10 days. Everything under my control. Except perhaps the nescafe which decided to overflow when I kept it in the oven or the milk which got stale or the curd which suddenly vanished. Okay, the curd was my doing. :P But then on the other I did have to feed myself, wake myself up, wash my stuff and the works. But on the temporary-imaginary-third-hand, Kaavya and Nithya, or rather their moms, took care of 75 percent of my lunches and dinners. Thankyouverymuch you darlings. :) And the food was awesome too. I thought I could use these days to my advantage and shed a few pounds but, NO, they had to do this. Not that I'm complaining.

I'm typing from a computer in my lab, whose spacebar decides to remain stuck, now and then. I'm losing patience right now,predictably.

More later on the lines of howhesleptwhenallhellbrokeloose or howheironedhisshirtwhilewearingit.

Till then, *clink* to all those who missed me, and the others go change your OrkUt Profy!E or something.

Mar 24, 2009

Sitting in a sofa with three super people, coffee in hand, looking through the window streaked with veins of water at the rain outside, dumb looks and knowing glances, mutually agreeing on what a beautiful day it was, among other things, IS precious.

I've been having a few good days. I'm waiting for the bad ones to show up. Nevertheless, I'm lovin' it!

Mar 23, 2009

A world of difference

It's the little things that matter the most, yes. 

I have wonderful people around me, like VK says.

Mar 16, 2009

I have a cold

Thanks to the heaviest of rains I've got wet in, in  a while.  I was having my coffee, when I sneezed it all over my desk and keyboard.

And then I grinned stupidly. :D And everything smells coffee-ish now.

Heh, I surprise myself!

Mar 9, 2009

Wild. Free. Are what I'd like to be.

Like the wind, blowing around you. Lifting your curls a little, wistfully sighing when you try to hold them together.

Like the rain, falling on your outstretched arms in a thousand tiny embraces, whistling in tune with the wind.

Like a beam of moonshine. Reflecting, like a twinkle, in your eye.

Like a beam of moonshine on a windy, rainy night.

It was probably the music that did this. Some arbit soundtrack which my brother sent me.

Mar 7, 2009

Ecstasy of gold

Update : Video uploaded :)

And check THIS out if you like short stories, from Ganja.

And happy women's day, women :P!

It started with Tyler Durden and "Alea Jacta est" And ended with "Verbal Kent" and "fin".

Oh yea, Kriya Open Quiz '09 went well alright! Awesomely well, save a few glitches here and there.
The ASQ is a wonderful unit to work with. Every one of them whom I worked with. Sunil, shaggy, Sexy boy, Ganja, E.T, Kai pulla, SRK, Quizzerman, Sammy, Legolas, Gobama and the others. It was awesome. Simply awesome.

Ecstasy of gold. Sums up how I feel now.



Satisfacion. What I had after three hours of editing. When Hetfield goes "Heeee-eeeeyy" in the middle or when Hammett goes insane towards the end, Ahhhh!

To Metallica and Quizzing,
Kerrang!!

Mar 2, 2009

A chance find!

Most of you out there would have read one of those forwards which used to circulate around, which went, "You are an Indian if...blah blah, 37) You reuse wrapping paper. 38)  You have dozens of tiny multicolored boxes in your fridge having food from a few days back.". And then there was russell peters' Red, white and brown in which he bets his ass that Indians are cheap. 

So, yesterday, I try to cook up something for lunch. I decide to go with the cheese toast that I make really awesomely well. But cutting up the chilly seemed a tirespme task back then. To my rescue came a tiny box with a violet lid. I looked in and found a few packets of Oregano Seasoning which my mom had saved from the last time we'd ordered pizza home. 

Voila! Oregano Cheese Toast.

I don't mind being cheap AT ALL, if this is what results. Indians rule!