Friday, October 15, 2010

Cuz disasters

Though I have only one brother (thank you Amme, Appe, I seriously didnt want more siblings), I have 8 cousins each from both my parents' side. This stats does not include the endless list of second cousins and third cousins and so on, who are equally important. ( I don't want to be disowned from the family property if they find out who I am, wicked me)
"The fewer, the better", says Ammachi (read, maternal grandma). She will be complaining that we all dont meet together, only until we do. Then when all her satanic grandchildren arrive, she'll be running helter-skelter with her hens. 
How I miss all that fun at home fighting with the 3-4 hours of Bangalore traffic...
As I have mentioned before, I'm married and is slowly behind led to the torture of "vishesham onnum aayille?" while my youngest cuz is still a toddler. A few days ago, she was crowned as the Ultimate Bandit Queen of the kin. She's the true replica of her ex-military father. Ammachi and Appachan along with all at the tharavaadu say in chorus, "Ho, ivalu aalu oru pirishaa!" Though all in my generation heard quite a lot of that, Neha is tasting the cream of it.
Uusual for an 18-month old lady, she's trying to shave her facial hair with a lost-and-found razor which belongs to her Dad. Thank goodness, the blade was missing. That little brat!
Earlier, her elder one had taken her father's mobile phone to her nursery. When her teacher found it ringing in her bag, she simply shrugged and said, "athente appaayedeya"
Sephy, the villain-est (dont know wther the word exist, i meant the superlative of villainousness) among the boys used to throw off his paternal grandpa's false teeth to the parambu and then the poor old man had to set out for a 'treasure hunt' in order to take a bite. 
Once when he hurt his leg as it got stuck in his Dad's bike wheels, I called him up to enquire how he's doing. To my surprise, it was Sephy who attended it.The moment he understood it was me calling, he asked, "enda viliche, kalyanam vallom aayo?". My jaws dropped hearing the question from a six-year-old chimp.

But the most embarassing one was during some marriage function or something.
The ex-military uncle mentioned above was blessed with his first child then. And his wife is lovingly called "Maya" at home. Maya aunty's father had also come home when all this happened and he was playing with his brand new grandchild, 3 or 4 months old then. Sephy and Amal was playing and running around, when they saw the baby being picked up by her Grandfather. These twosome did not recognise him and they questioned him and said "njangade maayaavide kochine avide vekkada", with the authority of their brother-ism. We didnt know where to hide our faces when the baby's grandfather looked all perplexed. 

Recently, my uncle said, "ivide ellaathintem kazhuthinu chuttum naaku aanu". Worst of it, he gave a character certificate to one of us. Unanimous reaction to that atrocity was- Avalku buddhi urachittilla, oru engineeringkaari, Alla pinne!


Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Jack of all trades




Behind every successful woman, there ought to be a man ( and vice versa). This is not to ardent feminists, though. By the way, I have two- again no time for doubts. One is my appa and the other is ma hubby.

Oomph, all men are alike.
Husbands tend to act like dad, sometimes, oh no, most of the times.
I think I'm being philosophical. Clap, Clap, you there, come back...

Ahem. By the way, this post was supposed to be about my dad, who can mend anything, be it an unresponsive switch, a leaking faucet, a stolen textbook or whatsoever. I remember reading somewhere that elder daughters take upon their father. Whatever be it, we both have same temper, moreover, that I'm sure of.

10 random facts about my father.

1. He's a proud "Government Servant". When I was young, I used to feel very uneasy with that phrase being written in the 'Father's occupation' column in my school records. Now that I have begun working, I know what it really means.

2. He's a strict disciplinarian when it comes to telephonic conversation. It should go like this, as he like it...
    Caller 1: Hello
    Caller2: Hello, ithu njaana ABC.
    Caller 1: Ha, endundu vishesham?
    Caller 2: Prathyekichu onnumilla. Veruthe vilichatha
    Caller 1: Ok, sheri. Vere onnumillallo?
    Slam!!!
    Caller 2: Alla, njan vilichathu... nge, appozhekum vecho...

3. He has an amazing collection of screws, nuts, bolts, screw drivers and so on and on and on. And he has promised that these items will be inherited by my husband, who eventually will have a bigger collection.

4. He loves picking the pepper from the one and only pepper creeper which helplessly clings to the neem tree at home.

5. He loves bringing children from the neighbourhood to our house for the sake of a candy. He loves them and they love their "appachan" also, as they call him.

6. Modesty, thy name is, you my father. He goes around in Tees and Lungi, telling he's doing chukku kachodam (dry ginger trade), while he belongs to the Indian Economic Service.

7. He reckons my mother by her initials. I've not seen anyone else doing that.

8. He loves the song "pardesi, pardesi" from Raja Hindustani and similar song with background score using Jhilmill instruments. He and his car flies in that pace when the music is blaring and we stick our heads out of the windows throughout the journey. We are referred to as "bandmela sangham" by people who choose to remain anonymous.

9. Being a diabetic, does not stop him from laying hands on chocolate, achappam, aval vilayichathu and the sweetest sweets ever found.

10. He is a diplomat by birth, who can talk India and Pakistan out of their minds, that both these nations may eventually jump and drown in the Indian Ocean.

The above facts are not prioritized and may get updated sooner or later...
Now your truly have to get back to work...

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Fatal vikadasaraswathi (slip-of-the-tongue)

There was an air of scintillating romance and under the starry sky they stood.


She: Can I ask you something?
This is a question which all men dread, standing ovations are welcome...

He: Sure sweetheart, go ahead.

She: Do you really love me?
He: (Phew! I was wondering what she would ask.) 
       Yes, of course. You are my favourite wife.
She: Thud!


P. S. : No prizes for guessing what happened after she regained consciousness...

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Friendly woes

Ms M is my best friend and our first encounter  was extremely stupid.
It was our first day in College and we were filling the first pages of our student records, which later became masterpieces of our adventures of 4 years.
After completing my task, I was waiting for my turn to submit my record. Suddenly an aunty called "Mole, aa munpil irikkunna kochine onnu viliche". (the so-called-mol was Ms. M herself and the aunty turned out to be her Mom). M sat 2 rows ahead of me and so I had to give a slight nudge on her head as I didnt know her name (knowing the name was useless because the room had turned into a cackle house). Defying the theory of Newton, the reaction I got was quite "unequal". She turned and laughed out loud.
She turned around and laughed out loud. My jaws dropped, "What did I do?". Why on earth did she laugh like that?
The next day I found her sitting next to me in the last bench and this routine continued till the third year when she was put into a different class. But the dosti between us stays strong till date.
She was a bunch of weirdness and sheer foolishness sometimes, which made all of us in her class run away occasionally, saying "No, no, she's not with us". Four years of the graduate course syllabus also included teaching her how not to look foolish. It was moreover like training a puppy.

You'll have to admit that she's damn crazy. One incident goes like this. One day Ms M took a leave without informing any of us friends. So I called her up in the evening to find out what had happened.

Me: Hello
M:  Hello
Me: Nee innu evidaarunnu? (Where were you today?)
M:  Athe, eniku nalla sukham illaarunnu. (I was not feeling fine today)
Me: Endaarunnu sookhedu? satyam para. (What was the reason, tell me the truth?)
M:  hi hi hi
Me: Oh, you faked it...patti
       By the way, what did you do all day at home?
M:  Watched " Om Shanti Om".
Me: Oh really, did you understand the movie. (Actually, she's disabled in Hindi mode)
M:  Kurachokke, baaki okke njan oohichu ( I understood little, I guessed the rest).
      Pakshe enikoru kaaryam manasilaayilla (there was one thing I didnt understand)
Me: What was that?
M:  "bhaago", SRK kept telling that for a sequence
Me: SLAM!
Bhaago means to run and Ms M didnt understand even that. What a waste? No wonder she spent the whole day watching OSO
SOS, Ms M, SOS...

She's an amazing friend and I wish all her dreams come true. Dont lose your heart over trivial things but focus on your goals, M. I vow to stand by you the same way you did during times of distress. You are a gem of a Friend, Ms M. Hats off to you...

Friday, October 1, 2010

The "KEEP CLEAN" campaign

One of the glass windows of the "Vayu Vajra" read "KEEP CLEAN". I've been noticing it for some days and now it has set me thinking the "immediate cause' behind such a label. There have been instances when I've felt the bus was a mobile trash can.
Once after settling into a window seat (I still love it, btw, everyone does) and fiddling with the AC vents to prevent myself from turning into a "snow woman", I took a couple of deep breaths. Slowly but steadily, my eyeballs popped out and my diaphragm began to force itself out through my mouth. Oh yeah, it was the distinct vomit smell coming from under the rear seats of the bus. Omigosh, it was getting worse by every second.
As the count of passengers increased, many a noses were out of shape figuring out what is wrong. Some looked under their shoes, some searched their bags for a buried rat or like, and some were looking across to others with the "I know, it's you" look. But sooner or later, people realized the real cause.
All commuters including me felt looted because the tickets are priced exorbitantly just for an additional "Vayu" in the name of the Bus genre. And lo, here the vayu itself was so "gwaaah".
As soon as a vacancy erupted in the first row, I ran and occupied it, of course much to the envy of my fellow passengers.Yippee! Though the result was quite pacifying, the yuck smell still lingered making me feel all dizzy.

May I have your attention please...
Kindly restrain yourself from littering the airport buses with the cups, snack boxes and bottles you get during your flights. And please try not to puke inside the bus. It may take great efforts for this due to the huge traffic jams during the peak hours. Your sincere attempts will be graciously acknowledged by yours truly and other regular commuters of Airport bus in Bangalore.
Bunch of roses for you in advance...
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