March 25, 2006
8th grade.
Sitting in science class, all our brains dead from all the tests we had written (6,okay, dudes...including algebra!!!!) Treemortrauma was kind enough to make it optional that we take down some important notes she was giving us. Having written all of it ahead of time, I had nothing to do and resorted to observing my class and simultaneously noting down my observations in a notebook. I can proudly say it cracked the peoplehood and four other people up after school when I read it out loud, standing atop a bench. Here it is, unedited: -
I wish I could stuff cotton in my ears and go to sleep. The class seems to feel exactly the opposite...lively fools. JJ is chewing on the end of his pen right now. If Treemortrauma weren't here, I'd slap his chubby face. Gabbar and Kunki are laughing and smiling at some stupid joke. Ma'am turns a deaf ear to Cyclone's screams of " Ma'am, for God's sake, STOP...I DON'T WANT TO WRITE, PLEASE!!!!" Monkey is being his hyper self, hopping up and down, his hair flopping like a Lhasa Apso's. Gabbar is bopping South Pole's head repeatedly. Bop, bop, bop. Treemortrauma says, " How duss faallouu laand inkriss soil furrtility?". Really, who is even listening to her? P is bending backwards and has rested her head on the empty desk behind her, looking funnily uncomfortable.
" Lux called me baby!!!!!! He called me baby!!!!" shrieks Beauty. She's sitting right in front of me, writing Hindi. Talk about studious. "No, sweets, he called you Devi!!!!" I say. Her face has fallen by a few feet. Cyclone keeps fiddling around with his hair, making me lose my focus. He's cute enough...what's his problem? Metallica is shaking her head with such vigour it might just fall off. Ash boy is scratching himself in the weirdest of places...boys, I tell ya!!Blue has been swivelling around again and again with speed like lightning to ogle a yawning, tired and thoroughly uninterested Sree. Oh, well.
Ma'am says " Reddy, get out of my class nooooowww." Reddy jumps off his bench with surprising agility and says " No problem ma'am", while Treemortrauma looks on, insensitive to his irreverence. Ank throws a ruler at SRS nearly knocking his eyeball out. SRS aims at Ank, throws and misses. The ruler has whacked Ashboy squarely in the head. Ouchies. Ashboy's groin scratching comes to a rude halt and he's shrieking "Ma'aaaam!!!!!!" right now. And what's ma'am doing??? Screaming at Gabbar and Monkey, asking them to shut up. I wish Ashboy would shut up...he's sitting three feet away from me and bleating like a goat. "Ma'aaaaam see thiiis boyyyy...Ma'am, look, no, pleeeeeeeeease!!!!!!" he wails. Treemortrauma doesn't give a shit. She very bluntly asks SRS who's now thulping Ashboy " Are you mad?" SRS says yes.
Hottie is yawning so wide an elephant or two could stroll into her mouth and do the Salsa. Kunki stands up. He sits down again. Dibbadinky's looking at Cyclone like he's the fruit punch in the middle of the Sahara. Ooh la la. Treemortrauma's staring at Monkey. Is she ogling him? No...no..no way...that defies ALL laws of nature!!!!! Okay, she's only screaming at him... Pheeew. Pu has thrown an eraser at Nivi and it's hit her in the ear. "Ooooooow, Pu!!!" she squeals. Metallica's baring her metallic teeth....all 32 of them as she smiles at Kunki. Poor Kunki. Now, she's laughing like a jackass. Oh, boy...
Kovi pokes PR in the eye. PR lets out a stream of foul language, all of which is incoherent. Dibbadinky gives me a look. The freakazoid. SRS has now shoved a piece of wood down Ashboy's collar. Ashboy's blushing. Why's he blushing??? Oh, Lord... Answer me...what is wrong with these people??? I ask him why he's blushing. He stares at me like I'm talking Greek. Sigh. The bell is ringing. Treemortrauma exits, furious. " Dadiya, pooshnikai ( Fatso, pumpkin), get your massive ass off my desk da!!!" screams SRS, obviously addressing Ashboy. Ashboy stands up in response and waves his hands in the air like a triumphant track runner who just crossed the finish line. Yeah...this is only ten minutes of a normal day in our class. Ten minutes.
27 November, 2006
11 November, 2006
Monkey business
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!!!!!
The alarm goes off. The maid and the cook's nonsensical chatter(Told ya she's an expert at bitching) is enough to wake the dead and set them wandering around in broad daylight. So saying, I'm awake and not very pleased about it.
"Aackckcakakak-kikiki-koooo!!!"
What the hell??
"KKKKKoooooockckckckaaaack"
Oh, Lord God above, please don't let that be the cook. I get out of bed and hurry out of my room to see what all the fuss is about. " Amma, paaru maa, korangu!!" Says the cook. Monkeys. No way. Oooooooooh, I HATE MONKEYS!!!! Ugly little things with the worst manners, pink butts and huge eyes that stare out at you from underneath a mop of hair in dire need of conditioning. They've tried to steal my little sister once, no... twice ( She looked human THEN...it's only now that she's got in touch with her inner primate and shows all the signs of wanting to climb a tree.) They've eaten my ice-cream, played with my stuff and have made me wet myself with fear ( I was five...what WAS I supposed to do?? Call 911???). They send chills up my spine.
I opened the back door only to be greeted by a cheerful little monkey scratching its head and eating leftovers of last night's dinner. "Keeeeckoooo" it says. Yeah, well Good Morning to you too, my little simian friend. It chews on something that would have been a decent slice of bread five minutes ago. Soccer the dog is going positively hysterical, barking at the ignorant ape. It twitches. Soccer barks. It pauses half-way through its messy meal. The dog growls and barks woof-woof-wooooof, only to be interrupted by an ear-piercing "Keeee-aaack-keee-keeeeooo"
Remember the Crazy Sister?? The one the monkeys tried to take away?? Turns out she would have been much better off with them, for, in respsonse to the head-scratcher's shriek, she let out a deafening " MANU SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!!! GIVE THE YELLING A REST, WOMAN, I NEED SLEEP!!!!!" which pretty much shut both the other animals up. I roll my eyes, and revert to admiring my ancestor. Only, it's gone!!! Where? How? Why? Millions of questions run through my head all at the same time. And then I see it. The Mommy monkey. Big, scary, fiery-eyed and very pregnant, she sits on the courtyard wall, like a queen on her throne. Oh, there's the tiny guy, hiding right behind her. If only I could reach out and strangle him and prove that evolution didn't happen for nothing. But, Alas, I can't...for his protective mamma's drawing close to the door. To where I'm standing. To my house. I'm gonna show this chick who's boss.
I reach out for something behind me, my eyes fixed on the pregnant primate. Aha! Gotcha...the broomstick!!!
I didn't take karate lessons for nothing!!!! I scream, and charge out the back door, waving the broom around like a lunatic. The pregnant female blinks. I fume. My parents have this weird fancy for collecting plastic bottles. Like the ones Pepsi comes in. I spot one and grab it with movements so fast, it'd give Neo of The Matrix a run for his money.
" Heeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" I say. Which means, back off, monkey mamma, or I'm gonna show you one of the many things a PET bottle can do. So saying, I hurl it right at her. And, I miss.
The watchman, however, doesn't lose hope. He has abandoned his conversation with the resident tailor to come to my aid. He swishes around a metal rod. He yells. I yell. Soccer barks. My sister is out of bed and staring at us. The cook ought to have burnt something or herself, with all the racket. Finally, the monkeys leave. WHOOOOPPPPEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! I jump for joy. Realising I've done a week's worth of jumping already, I stop, go in and turn on Animal Planet. And what are they doing? Analysing the baboon species.
Sheesh.
The alarm goes off. The maid and the cook's nonsensical chatter(Told ya she's an expert at bitching) is enough to wake the dead and set them wandering around in broad daylight. So saying, I'm awake and not very pleased about it.
"Aackckcakakak-kikiki-koooo!!!"
What the hell??
"KKKKKoooooockckckckaaaack"
Oh, Lord God above, please don't let that be the cook. I get out of bed and hurry out of my room to see what all the fuss is about. " Amma, paaru maa, korangu!!" Says the cook. Monkeys. No way. Oooooooooh, I HATE MONKEYS!!!! Ugly little things with the worst manners, pink butts and huge eyes that stare out at you from underneath a mop of hair in dire need of conditioning. They've tried to steal my little sister once, no... twice ( She looked human THEN...it's only now that she's got in touch with her inner primate and shows all the signs of wanting to climb a tree.) They've eaten my ice-cream, played with my stuff and have made me wet myself with fear ( I was five...what WAS I supposed to do?? Call 911???). They send chills up my spine.
I opened the back door only to be greeted by a cheerful little monkey scratching its head and eating leftovers of last night's dinner. "Keeeeckoooo" it says. Yeah, well Good Morning to you too, my little simian friend. It chews on something that would have been a decent slice of bread five minutes ago. Soccer the dog is going positively hysterical, barking at the ignorant ape. It twitches. Soccer barks. It pauses half-way through its messy meal. The dog growls and barks woof-woof-wooooof, only to be interrupted by an ear-piercing "Keeee-aaack-keee-keeeeooo"
Remember the Crazy Sister?? The one the monkeys tried to take away?? Turns out she would have been much better off with them, for, in respsonse to the head-scratcher's shriek, she let out a deafening " MANU SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!!! GIVE THE YELLING A REST, WOMAN, I NEED SLEEP!!!!!" which pretty much shut both the other animals up. I roll my eyes, and revert to admiring my ancestor. Only, it's gone!!! Where? How? Why? Millions of questions run through my head all at the same time. And then I see it. The Mommy monkey. Big, scary, fiery-eyed and very pregnant, she sits on the courtyard wall, like a queen on her throne. Oh, there's the tiny guy, hiding right behind her. If only I could reach out and strangle him and prove that evolution didn't happen for nothing. But, Alas, I can't...for his protective mamma's drawing close to the door. To where I'm standing. To my house. I'm gonna show this chick who's boss.
I reach out for something behind me, my eyes fixed on the pregnant primate. Aha! Gotcha...the broomstick!!!
I didn't take karate lessons for nothing!!!! I scream, and charge out the back door, waving the broom around like a lunatic. The pregnant female blinks. I fume. My parents have this weird fancy for collecting plastic bottles. Like the ones Pepsi comes in. I spot one and grab it with movements so fast, it'd give Neo of The Matrix a run for his money.
" Heeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" I say. Which means, back off, monkey mamma, or I'm gonna show you one of the many things a PET bottle can do. So saying, I hurl it right at her. And, I miss.
The watchman, however, doesn't lose hope. He has abandoned his conversation with the resident tailor to come to my aid. He swishes around a metal rod. He yells. I yell. Soccer barks. My sister is out of bed and staring at us. The cook ought to have burnt something or herself, with all the racket. Finally, the monkeys leave. WHOOOOPPPPEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!! I jump for joy. Realising I've done a week's worth of jumping already, I stop, go in and turn on Animal Planet. And what are they doing? Analysing the baboon species.
Sheesh.
My family- Why we call ourselves The What
My family isn't exactly the world's sanest, nor the healthiest. These vacations have provided my sister and I with sufficient time to draw up lists of various kinds. One such list was about the behavioural traits/habits/illnesses which, God forbid, the two of us might just inherit one fine day.
1. We run a risk of being diagnosed as either diabetic, neurotic or heart patients. We can get either osteoporosis or arthiritis. We may also suffer from lung cancer and hypertension. Lucky us?
2. By the time we are middle-aged we will resemble beer barrels and will have no teeth at all.
3. We are highly talkative and, again, by the time we are middle-aged, we will know three different versions of our family history from both maternal and paternal sides.
4. We will have a weird liking for hair colour and by our mid-sixties, our locks will resemble the rainbow.
5. We will call ourselves...hic...Brahminical Iyers, devouring a biriyani all the time.
6. We will call our children by each others' names. Meaning, The Crazy Sister would address her daughter as Manvi instead of calling the poor thing by her own name.
7. We will spend lots of money on vessels, crockery and bed linen, but nothing will be spent on soap and facewash.
8. We will tell our grandchildren about Jayalalitha at those Sunday lunches, the same way our grandparents, grand-aunts and uncles ramble on about Mountbatten and Nehru. Sheesh.
9. We will look at photos of our teenage selves and wonder if we still look the same.
10. Our first child might try to kill his/her younger sibling, stuffing dosa in their( The sibling's) mouth.
11. All the girls in the family will dance to "It's raning men" by Geri Halliwell whenever they meet over family lunches, 'cos it's so friggin' cool ( Our take on the way we were forced to head-bang to "Girls just wanna have fun" I really wonder what kinda loony family does these things. Oh, jeez, I forgot. MINE. )
12. When our adolescent daughter asks for a CD by some weirdly named band we will, unconsciously, say "Oh, I'll get it for you from Food World." because we think she's asking for vegetables. ( Think The Black Eyed Peas and The Red Hot Chilli Peppers.)
13. We will have this fancy for hurling saucepans, or even pressure cookers at any jackass who gets in our way. No kidding.
14. We will always, always eat peanuts while travelling on a train. We will also sing golden oldies and will run the risk of getting the skin of a nut stuck in our trachea.
15. When eating pizzas, beware, for we might just tear it viciously and smother it in ketchup like we do with dosas and chutney.
Note to the folks: - This wasn't meant to offend anybody. If any of you ever read this and don't like it much, punish me by letting me stay home instead of attending that wretched engagement. Or even that family reunion. And yeah, saucepans HURT, you dig????
(Much thanks to KD and her brother for giving me back my blog. I louwe you guys.)
1. We run a risk of being diagnosed as either diabetic, neurotic or heart patients. We can get either osteoporosis or arthiritis. We may also suffer from lung cancer and hypertension. Lucky us?
2. By the time we are middle-aged we will resemble beer barrels and will have no teeth at all.
3. We are highly talkative and, again, by the time we are middle-aged, we will know three different versions of our family history from both maternal and paternal sides.
4. We will have a weird liking for hair colour and by our mid-sixties, our locks will resemble the rainbow.
5. We will call ourselves...hic...Brahminical Iyers, devouring a biriyani all the time.
6. We will call our children by each others' names. Meaning, The Crazy Sister would address her daughter as Manvi instead of calling the poor thing by her own name.
7. We will spend lots of money on vessels, crockery and bed linen, but nothing will be spent on soap and facewash.
8. We will tell our grandchildren about Jayalalitha at those Sunday lunches, the same way our grandparents, grand-aunts and uncles ramble on about Mountbatten and Nehru. Sheesh.
9. We will look at photos of our teenage selves and wonder if we still look the same.
10. Our first child might try to kill his/her younger sibling, stuffing dosa in their( The sibling's) mouth.
11. All the girls in the family will dance to "It's raning men" by Geri Halliwell whenever they meet over family lunches, 'cos it's so friggin' cool ( Our take on the way we were forced to head-bang to "Girls just wanna have fun" I really wonder what kinda loony family does these things. Oh, jeez, I forgot. MINE. )
12. When our adolescent daughter asks for a CD by some weirdly named band we will, unconsciously, say "Oh, I'll get it for you from Food World." because we think she's asking for vegetables. ( Think The Black Eyed Peas and The Red Hot Chilli Peppers.)
13. We will have this fancy for hurling saucepans, or even pressure cookers at any jackass who gets in our way. No kidding.
14. We will always, always eat peanuts while travelling on a train. We will also sing golden oldies and will run the risk of getting the skin of a nut stuck in our trachea.
15. When eating pizzas, beware, for we might just tear it viciously and smother it in ketchup like we do with dosas and chutney.
Note to the folks: - This wasn't meant to offend anybody. If any of you ever read this and don't like it much, punish me by letting me stay home instead of attending that wretched engagement. Or even that family reunion. And yeah, saucepans HURT, you dig????
(Much thanks to KD and her brother for giving me back my blog. I louwe you guys.)
10 November, 2006
Why?
I want you to know..
That the stars are shining like there is no tomorrow. And that chewing gum will not make me put on weight. Also, your favourite Kishore Kumar song is on the radio. I was at a party two weeks ago. We gave the birthday girl hell by holding her by the shoulders and ankles and kicking her. It was a bit like when you would hold me and threaten to throw me and then hug me really tight when I cried.
Yesterday, I ate those ugly orange-cream biscuits you'd always buy when you came home. "Biscuits are healthier than chocolate, sweetheart", you'd say. You will not believe it.. It's raining here. In your Madras city. Can you see the rain coming down in sheets on me? I'm singing Pink Floyd and dancing your mad dance. I'm playing the air guitar and I know you're laughing just looking at me. But I can't hear you.
I also want you to know, that I love you. Very much. You left too soon. Took all of us by surprise, you did. Leaving just like that. It's mid-November already. Two more months to new year's eve. Okay, one and a-half.. sheesh.. don't yell! I know you're yelling. New year's eve. Already. Only, this time.. there won't be any "Why aren't you out with a million boys and partying, doll?" There will not be any chilli-bajji and cappucino on the Besant Nagar beach. There will be no more phone calls from Bangalore, no more "Guess who, pretty girl?!" No more you.
Why did you go?
I miss you..
That the stars are shining like there is no tomorrow. And that chewing gum will not make me put on weight. Also, your favourite Kishore Kumar song is on the radio. I was at a party two weeks ago. We gave the birthday girl hell by holding her by the shoulders and ankles and kicking her. It was a bit like when you would hold me and threaten to throw me and then hug me really tight when I cried.
Yesterday, I ate those ugly orange-cream biscuits you'd always buy when you came home. "Biscuits are healthier than chocolate, sweetheart", you'd say. You will not believe it.. It's raining here. In your Madras city. Can you see the rain coming down in sheets on me? I'm singing Pink Floyd and dancing your mad dance. I'm playing the air guitar and I know you're laughing just looking at me. But I can't hear you.
I also want you to know, that I love you. Very much. You left too soon. Took all of us by surprise, you did. Leaving just like that. It's mid-November already. Two more months to new year's eve. Okay, one and a-half.. sheesh.. don't yell! I know you're yelling. New year's eve. Already. Only, this time.. there won't be any "Why aren't you out with a million boys and partying, doll?" There will not be any chilli-bajji and cappucino on the Besant Nagar beach. There will be no more phone calls from Bangalore, no more "Guess who, pretty girl?!" No more you.
Why did you go?
I miss you..
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