Random Thought in the middle of the night- Digest 5: Versectonomy

IrrItAblE vOwEl syndrOmE : The urge to randomly toggle between upper and lower case letters in any given statement.

Irritable Novel Syndrome: The pain of the never being able to write beyond chapter five

Irritable Towel Syndrome: Ranbir Kapoor in Sawariya

P.S. Irritable Owl Syndrome: Chronic insomnia which results in tripe like this

Ganpati Bappa

Wish you a very happy Ganesh Chaturti.

P.S. No, I haven't disappeared to have another kid, thank you very much. Just that I am SOOOOOOOOOO Blogcked right now its not even funny. Zillion thoughts which somehow just don't get translated into posts. I have noticed that every time there is a major life change my posts seem to dry up. Hmmm.

I need a ghost writer. Or preferably, a ghost thinker.

P.P.S Please don't stop reading me? Pretty please? ( Don't make me lisp. Hmpf). You could look at Archives. Six years worth! (*Gasps*. Has it been that long?)

Random thought in the middle of the night: Digest 4 - Weigh your words

Aren't Gubernatorial and Ombudsman very FAT words? No, I dont mean long but fat. Every time I hear these two,they sound positively corpulent.

Wonder why.

Are there any others? Or skinny words for that matter?

Meluha Bound

I am on a fairly random reading spree these days – and just finished reading the Immortals of Meluha by one Amish Tripathi. I am still not quite sure what to make of that book.

Conceptually it’s interesting. It goes to the heart of Indian mythology and plucks out Lord Shiva and weaves a story around him, in a manner calculated to appeal to contemporary tastes.

The tale follows the life of Lord Shiva – with the underlying premise that he was NOT a God, but a mortal, a tribal chieftain who did extraordinary deeds and consequently legend made him into a God. It starts with his entry as an ‘immigrant’ into Meluha – an almost ideal country, and is turned into “Neelkanth” there and traces his life – whether its his romance with the emperor’s daughter Sati or his war on evil. (This is the first of the trilogy, so we need to see how the story progresses)

It was, well, like reading a hybridized version of Dan Brown and Chetan Bhagat.

The concept might have been inspired by the former - viz. take up divinity and holy cowisque subjects ( pun unintended) and attempt to build a racy ( and hopefully controversial) pulp fictional tale out of it. (As an aside, I kept on thinking of Ilium by Dan Simmons as well – the whole myth angle juxtaposed with modern concepts perhaps.. Ilium was bizarre though - the way it kept on jumping between eras gave me jet lag).

And the atrociously pedestrian language is certainly of the latter.(Chetan Bhagat has done a grave disservice to Indian literature. I know that Indian writing was laboured and pedantic BC*. But AD seems to be characterized by utterly casual lowest-common-denominator fiction.) This book has these so called italicized thoughtblurbs of Lord Shiva, which make one cringe (the English equivalent of “Kutte kameene mein tera khoon pi jaoonga”).

Let me take the comparison further - Dan Brown, while he lacks the erudition of say, Umberto Eco, did manage to throw some historical and cultural nuggets at one in Da Vinci/Angels and Demons. Amish on the other hand, littered his books with names and references, but there was no depth whatsoever. So one would have the book crowded with Brahaspatis, Veerbhadra and Daksha without etching them out at all ( not to mention the rather cutesy references – Nandi as an extremely overweight captain with the chosen tribe of Bull.).

The other big difference between Brown and Tripathi was that there was a consistent tenor through the novels in Browns book. Tripathi on the other hand started out with Lord Shiv as a human but then backtracked by introducing a number of Devas and Asuras and immortality which confused things.

The writer of this certainly scores over Bhagat on two counts - he has taken an interesting subject ( I am obsessed with mythology after all) and there might be certain homework which has gone into the creation of this book - so it doesn’t read like a horny collegians delusional ramblings. Though one wished he would have just raised the whole thing by a couple of notches. (The feeling I had while reading it was akin to when goes for a head massage and the masseuse while working in the generally right area consistently misses the spots which could make the whole experience divine ( pun unintended again)!)

I will probably read the sequels too. Ah well.

*BC= Before Chetan: Sorry, couldnt help myself.
** AD= After Dumbkoff (Sorry, couldnt resist that either)
P.S. Finished reading “Two states” sometime back, might explain the vitriol
P.P.S Extremely random post - what to do? house arrest and sleep deprivation continues...

Random question..

Would Google be male or female? Why do you say so?

Cootchie Coo(k)

Conversations with a cook prospect, transliterated for the audience. Picture a very scary, grumpy looking woman.

Me: "Oh, so what is your name"
She: "It is actually Kaveri, but sometimes it is Kavita."
Me: "Eh? Which one should I call you then?"
She: " Whichever you like."
Me: (Incurably nosy) "But why these two names? Which one do you answer to?"
She: "My actual name is Kaveri, but my husband lovingly calls me Kavita when he wants loving " (Er..?)
Me: "Well, in that case, since I am not yet in love with you, lets stick to Kaveri shall we?" ( No I didnt say that, was sorely tempted to though. Remember the Maid mafia?)

The one who supposedly joins tomorrow goes by the rather unlikely moniker of "Dimple". Unlikely why? Because she has an a rather bovine cast of countenance - nothing could be further than the Ms.Kapadia.

Watch this space for more.

My name is Kha ha ha ha ha.

(Warning, spoilers ahead)

Dear Mr. K. Jo

First, let me begin by congratulating you on getting the movie released despite all the off-the-reel histrionics by one Mr. T and his posse of goons -you and your team should deserve a round of applause for that.

Having said that, I must admit that I was mystified by a number of things – not least of which, was, why DID you want to release one of the most unintentionally hilarious movies I have seen in the recent past? So I thought I would take this opportunity to ask you a few questions..

1.This might sound like a “who-was-Ram” type of question, but what was the story again? Was it

a.About autism?
b.About Muslims not being terrorists?
c.About a Forrest-Gumpish love story?
d.About triumph of good over evil?
e.About a mother’s fight for justice?
f.About hurricane relief?
g.About 9/11?
h.About ordinary citizens trying to meet the president
i.About a US darshan?
j.....

2.There was a slight doubt in my mind about the time frame – your snappy dates on the side of the screen indicated that the events occurred in this decade viz 2000-2009. But I could have sworn that Funny Hair Joel WAS Michael Jackson in 1972 and if I had to hazard a guess about his mother, Mama Jenny (Seriously?) and neighbours, I would have pegged them in a 1950’s commercial. (Uhm, just a small suggestion, do Google and take a look at one Beyonce)

3. Where did you find the President clone? I spent the entire movie waiting with bated breath for the full frontal ( you had been coy for most of the movie showing only the cropped hair)

4.Did Mr Khan (from the epiglottis) tolerate or not tolerate touchy-feely stuff? He seemed to cringe for half the movie, but after the intermission, he was going around hugging everyone in sight. Similarly in half the movie he seems to shuffle horizontally and sometimes he walks straight. Sometimes he used to movie camera; sometimes he cheerily looked at the landscape. Quite confusing.

5.Why did you waste Ms. Dutt for ONE minor scene? I would think she has HUGE potential in movies such as you are famous for – with lots of drama, action, song and dance and noise. Please do use her more.

6.Does SRK really have such a huge nose? Since he spent most of the movie not eyeing the camera directly, we really had lots of opportunity to view his profile

Your feedback will be much appreciated.
Thanks and regards
CiW

P.S. Was not a completely voluntary choice - uncle/aunt in law were staying over for a few days and they wanted to take us out to see the movie. It WOULD have been rather churlish to refuse, so off we went.

Things I dont understand: #287

Why on earth should Jessica Simpson uhm...passing wind, make it to the newspapers in India?

Self-sacrificed in the name of Kurbaan

WHY did a movie which has the potential and the story to become a powerful social commentary become such a ghastly farce? Terrorism is a burning and complex topic. Why break it down to the lowest common denominator? (I suspect that it was shadow directed. Rensil D'Silva was a colleague of mine (look at the way I subtly name drop ahem. But its true for all that, I have sat across conference tables and swigged chai and biscuits with him). He is a bloody intelligent man. He has also written Rang De Basanti which was a powerful film - this one was a serious anti climax.

I think the fundamental flaw in the movie was the fact that it tried to appeal to everyone. A movie can either be a serious, real, topical and gritty movie catering to the intelligentsia - in which case, I would watch it a serious frame of mind. OR can be out an out a Hindi-film, which I can watch after suspending my disbelief. I cannot do both at the same time.

Why expect me to believe for instance, that a so-called professor (who seems to spend much more time drinking coffee and romancing than actually professing), presumably with SOME intelligence will go traipsing into dark dungeons in a place which she suspects of being dangerous. Why would anyone with half a brain DO that? Why would an otherwise supposedly bright reporter again NOT contact the cops after a message on the answering machine, and instead chose to go all swashbuckling solo ( and incidentally fall asleep on a stake out). Why are the neighbours especially the women so uni-dimensional, almost robotic–– whose only role seems to be to serve coffee while the husbands plot their nefarious deeds? (I kept on having the wall video in my head for some reason when they would file out with the coffee trays singing “We don’t need no terrorism”)

The folks behind the movie also seemed so reluctant to actually HAVE an opinion about terrorism – so rather than a story, it seems to be a composite of disjointed shots put together just giving random tidbits of information. An infomercial rather than an editorial approach to movie making as it were. And even the infomercial is quite tentative and full of backtracks, justifications and self-exculpating disclaimers. Thus, for a Muslim fundamentalist, you have the convenient counter of Muslim Liberalist. The accommodative Hindu who is not against his daughter marrying a Muslim because he is Muslim, but just because he is “different “and so on.

The acting and emoting was pedestrian and just diffused any impact the story could have. That of an ordinary woman who wakes up in a nightmare, married to a terrorist. It’s actually a plot with so much potential for taut tension - the conflict of the loyalties whether to sacrifice herself (and her yet-to-be-born-baby) for the greater good, or the greater folks for herself.
Kareena made an unqualified hash of it – NOWHERE does she appear torn, or conflicted or vulnerable or anything except whiny (All those dialogues about “So, after all, you were just USING me?”. Woman, the fellow is cheerfully contemplating mass terrorism. It is not about you, get a grip yes?). Saif again, was disappointingly bland – I didn’t find him particularly scary, ominous, dark, intense or “pathar eyed” (As Kirron Kher would say).

That famous love scene was such a complete yawn-fest. The camera panning up and down backs – so what?

The movie had some moments of inadvertent hilarity though. That breathtakingly insightful comment of Riyaz as he steps off the plane “Iraq is a mess”. This beautifully pithy and understated profundity had us all rolling in the aisles. Kirron Kher’s extraordinary Afghan- accent which brought to mind the atrociously bad Kabul Express.

All and all, the movie leaves one feeling rather cheated - that something that could be so powerful and moving, just ended up being such a damp squib.

Sigh.

Sachin on a song

Dear Sachin,

I started watching cricket in 1991 or thereabouts - the buzz was around this fresh faced, young boy - a few years older than me, but certainly a contemporary, who was already been touted as the "One to watch".

And for almost twenty years, the world has watched - poetry in motion, the cricketing God, the one-only-next to Bradman - the praises have been so many and yet, none enough to describe who you are and what you mean to the ordinary joe or jane in the street.

You have stood for hope, when the country had nothing much to look forward to. You have stood for purity and what is right and pristine in a chaotic time. You have stood for passion in a country starved for heroes. You have stood for perfection in an imperfect world.

I have felt so many emotions watching you over the years - heady exhiliration at a sweetly timed cover drive, I have wept tears of joy when you led India to yet another victory, heartbreak and anguish when you were caught behind, and vitriolic anger against the umpire who dared give you a dodgy lbw, the odd vicarious brag ("Oh Sachin's house is right next to my college in Bandra"). But I have never felt the exasperation which say a Dravid used to occasionally elicit ( though I am a big fan of his as well) and never, ever disappointment.

Yesterday, watching you yet again, on a song, I felt another emotion - privilege - that I was born in the same generation as you and that I could actually watch you through all these years as a contemporary. That my growing years coincided with yours - and therefore, I could watch it with the same intense passion with which you played ( unlike the detachment I feel when I see the cricketers today) . And privilege that I have indeed witnessed genius.

When you are on , the world stops to watch.
CiW

P.S. Very gushy,incoherent post aiyo. *Blush*. But got very senti last night.Pliss excuse

Online Housie.

Another very random conversation with Mo, has led to this very interesting question which I would like to convert into a tag.

If this blog was a house, what would it be like?

Hint: I told Mo's that hers would be a sleek condo, all minimalist, black and white, granite and leather. I think mine would be a messy, scatty house. What is your blog house like? What do you think mine is?

P.S. Two posts in a day? I am rocking or what?

Right to Information

The following queries appeared on S's intra-office informal site the other day - authored by a young gentleman in all earnestness.

1. Do you have to register somewhere before you can start a live-in relationship?
2. How long can you live-in together before it becomes illegal?

So ladies and gentlemen, what are your answers?

P.S. I think I am in crush. Anyone who has posts stuff like this on the office intranet is definitely crushworthy.

The Rakhi phenomena

So I have been watching some of Rakhi aunty's Swayamwar episodes these days.

My whole attitude to the show (as I am sure has been many others) has been 'Bring it on'- I am more than willing to be entertained and amused. Get as tacky, as flamboyant, as unbelievably low-brow as you can and I will watch it. The same abstract fascination I would have if aliens were to invade the world perhaps.

And the reason for this of course, has been Rakhi herself - the queen of controversy, who by hook or crook has managed to keep herself at the forefront of the audience consciousness - you can love her or hate her, but you certainly cannot ignore her.

But, as I have watched a few episodes, I have come to sneakingly respect her astuteness – which I think is much higher than people actually give her credit for.

If we have to borrow from marketing parlance, she has understood her brand image and the consumer pulse very well – and some forays into understanding her brand equity would have thrown up a few insights.

a) That she is a fast coming to the end of her shelf life - a young controversial item girl - will be talked about, discussed, maybe lusted after, and tolerated - the same cannot be said for an ageing one - who will have to live out the rest of her life as a caricature, on the fringes of tinsel-world – viz. low market growth opportunity

b)Whatever she does, there is very little chance of it actually remaining private- given the stage-and-tele persona she has cultivated over time. Viz. A relatively high market awareness, knowledge, salience.

So we take these two coordinates – high salience and TOM and a low growth rate, she needs to capitalize on the former before the latter becomes a de-growth. In other words, take whatever momentum she has, build it up to a crescendo and leave with a big bang – precisely what she is doing with the Swayamvar.

Having said that, she has got her positioning perfectly. She knows that to the tele and cine intelligentsia, she will always be the tawdry item girl – loud, flamboyant, not someone to be taken seriously as an actor or any repute. She will become the one-night-stand girl, or the temporary girlfriend – but I seriously don’t see say a Ranbir Kapoor or any other upcoming star seriously thinking of marriage with her. For whatever reasons, maybe her more desi-origins or what have you, she will probably not even take the path Mallika Sherawat did - who seems to have managed to garner SOME roles and played down on that item-girl image she started out with. So instead of running away from this image, she is capitalizing on it in the best way she possibly can. Can you think of any other star or starlet pulling off a swayamvar?

My mother’s hypothesis, which I think is probably true – is that she will marry the Canadian guy and go out with a blaze rather than fading into obscurity as the wife of one of the others in India. Personally, I would have liked to put my money on that Manmohan fellow – I think his dramatic sensibilities are on par with her’s.

What do you think?

Doc Dee

In the town of Pune, there was a doctor called Dee
Who single-handedly caused epidemic acideitee
His cure killed more
Than the innocuous throat sore
Not to mention his torturous consultant fee

Doc Dee was overly generous with the pills
He dispensed one for all the world’s ills
Shooting that one would strike gold
And in a week or two cure the cold
While his cash dispenser happily trills

Dee was an accidental doctor, but a wannabe geek
He wanted to be known as Doc Techno Freak
He carefully examines the blue tooth
But the wan patients, bah forsooth
That's just their way to attention seek

Ok. OKAY. I will stop now.

...on arranged marriage

...arranged marriage is the intersection point at which the downward spiral of expectation meets the upward spiral of desperation

(Overheard - and thought it was brilliant)

Name Suggestions....

Please suggest names for my GODCHILD-TO-BE who shall be arriving in the next fortnight or so.
I have suggested many which my godchild's mother-to-be has shamelessly shot down, drat her

As many as you want.

Girls and Boys.

Also if there are any copyright issues let me know. Chances are that I will be stealing the name and taking credit anyways.

Prince Charming

The twist in the fairy tale: Isn't this taking the fable of kissing a frog TOO literally?

Use, Abuse?

So a few years ago, somewhere in the post-advent-of-Internet-era but pre-social-media-explosion kind of age (web 1.5?) I reconnected with an erstwhile friend from my 11-12th grade spent in an all-girls (*shudders*) school. Let’s call this girl T.

Now T was one of the members of the ‘group’ I used to hang out with (read: the crowd that sat down to have lunch together) – she was okay enough (except for a marked predilection for Mills & Boons - girls school effect *shudders*) and since she lived fairly close to where I did, she used to often hitch a ride with us (viz. my friend P and I who had a car-pool thing to school, and Goonda who pretty much lived at my house for four years). So we used to hang out and do all those things that 15-17 year old girls do together viz. gawk at good looking guys from HPS (girl’s convent hangover *shudders*), giggle at geeks, link each other up with any random guy in the right age bracket, sing tonelessly and loudly, blare music on the streets and deafen the old driver and generally feel very brave and adventurous and pleased with ourselves.

School got over, P and Goonda went to Delhi (and soon P moved to London), I left for Bombay and T remained in Hyderabad. And eventually while I remained in touch with the other two heroines and still do so regularly (the fact that P is also the daughter of a family friend not to mention that she is quite utterly insane, helped. And Goonda and I were er..BFF (Ugh. Puke. Yuck.) and shared a relationship based on a rock-solid foundation of extravagant insults which continue till this day, which leave our respective spouses rather bemused). (Also I need to stop doing these sidebars in brackets-for-background-colour things – I have almost forgotten what the post I set out to write was about), I lost contact with T until we got each other’s email ids few years later.

So I was happy enough to find her and we exchanged 2-3 ‘what have u been doing in life in the last few years ‘mails. Then suddenly one day I get a mail from her informing me that she is coming to Bombay to meet a prospective lover (which her folks don’t know about and the official version is that she is coming to Bombay to meet me) and will be staying at my house for a few days. Which was a little bizarre but since I have had sundry friends come and stay with me for many days at a time, I shrugged off the rather high-handed tone and said ‘sure’.

A few weeks went with no correspondence whatsoever and then again an unexpected mail came informing me that she would be reaching Mumbai at 10.15 and I should be at the airport to pick her up. By this time, Goonda (who has much shorter fuse than I do) was fuming at the rather arbitrary tone of the mail. I happened to have some function which I needed to attend to, so I wrote to her telling her that I would be unable to pick her up since I had to go to this wedding, but would leave the keys with the neighbour. She wrote back saying that she cannot change her flight timings and I should cancel my plans to go to the wedding and be sure to pick her up. By this time, I was also in a rather WTF mode while Ma and Goonda had smoke coming out of their ears.I said no go.

Then finally in the manner of one doing a great favour, she rescheduled her flight plans to arrive the next day and I went to pick her up at the airport (yes, I was quite a doormat and hated to give offense and hurt other people’s sensibilities. At one point (okay last sidebar, I promise), when I was in eighth grade, I used to carry two water bottles because one of my classmates used to drink mine. Why didn’t she carry a water bottle as well? Because it was too much of a pain/inconvenience to lug a bottle around)

So anyway, she came to my house, quite unchanged – as giggly, as loud as ever – I in the meantime had lost my father, had taken on financial and emotional responsibility so was not the carefree person of yore.

Soon after she landed, she called up a people and made plans for the evening to go pubbing with some friends and informed me that I should not expect her for dinner and so on; she left and then disappeared for the next two days. We were of course , frantic, as to where the hell a single girl in a unknown city, supposedly under our chaperonage had disappeared to. Finally we managed to trace her, figured that she had shacked up somewhere with the lover-boy .

The day before she was to fly back she called again to inquire whether I could see her off at the airport so that I could 'spend some time' with her. I politely declined the pleasure (working, had reduced the doormat quotient. Besides, I had Goonda threatening hell and damnation if I so much as thought of going)

Anyways, what was the point of this post and why am I thinking of it now after such a long time? Because someone else is attempting the same thing again. A person who has had my email id but had fallen out of touch. I reconnected with this person on a social media site again, and after precisely 2 mails, this person wrote to ask whether I could travel especially to Mumbai at a certain date to do something specific and complicated. And I don’t want to take that effort and I don’t see any reason for me to do so at the cost of being churlish ( Is the doormat dead finally? Yippie!)

So there are a couple of issues here.

The first one is that: - Yes. In friendships and other relationships, one person often has to put in effort, be inconvinienced for the other. That is the part of the give and take and the cornerstone of any meaningful relationship. but it is easy to abuse that relationship and get into a territory which is "using" the person. And hell, Im pretty sure no one likes to be used. T, this current person, (both might be rather extreme examples I know)I certainly felt like I was being suckered.

The interesting conundrum is WHY! I know, that with a different person, and exactly the same set of circumstances, I might feel completely different about it and take the effort gladly and willingly and unhesitatingly.

It's not even the fact that there has been a time gap in the relationship. There are enough and more friends who I havent seen for years, who I don't foresee this issue coming up with.

Is it the tone I wonder?

So the question is that why is it that for some people, one can go to extraordinary lengths to help and for others, even a minor detour seems like an imposition.

Is it the give and take thing? But then isn’t friendship supposed to be relatively altruistic? So if I am willing to take effort only for those people who reciprocate that becomes a contractual and not emotional relationship doesn’t it?

The other, is after saying “No” to people who fall in the latter category, how is it that one ends up becoming the churlish, uncooperative, unhelpful person?

Relationships are weird.

Okay very long and very rambling post.

Seasons Greetings to all!

Minding the Mind

I was wondering the other day – does intellectual growth, the appetite to learn, also fall in a bell shaped curve – rises steeply for a while and then starts to peter down soon after?

This thought came from musing over my reading habits – I am and have always been a voracious reader. Books have been my addiction, my companions and my escape throughout my life (I nurse my emotional wounds not with food or alcohol, but with my well-worn, time-tested comfort books).
But if I look at the kind of stuff which I find myself reading these days, instead of scaling and seeking intellectually challenging books, I find myself unerringly aiming for the stuff which I used to read maybe twelve- fifteen years ago. (I have also noticed that I no longer pick up books which have very small font or are very bulky. But that might be just age and failing eyes). These books – my bubble gum reading of then, have suddenly become my staple diet – which leads one to wonder about brain cell atrophy or brain cell laziness and all that.

And this phenomenon seems to be happening across the board – be it the television shows, the magazines, or even the conversational ambit which I operate in.

I have been mulling over this and I believe that are three possible hypotheses.

The first hypothesis is the one I have already mentioned. Namely, like the physical growth-peak-decline (I would assume one hits the peak somewhere in the mid twenties), so with the mind. Thus, the athlete who is at the top of his prowess at 22 only to find that his reflexes and his strength are ebbing five years later – so with the intellectual who attains this pinnacle of cerebral attainment, only for it to de-grow in a few years. (And of course this happens with the lesser mortals such as yours truly, who are neither athletes nor intellectuals).

The other possible explanation for this could stem from the unique state of the generation – a generation brought up on Internet, leet speak and text messages which has been conditioned to use only a minuscule part of the brain and has been accustomed to get all inputs in a ready-to-eat, easily digestible format. This would in effect discourage any heavily intellectual pursuits because well – the value which is obtained is neither immediate and also, there is a definite benefit-effort mismatch – why spend so much time and energy pursuing something, where one can get distractions in a much easier format? The twitter phenomena as it were - not blogs, but micro blogs. Everything in byte sized pieces - caused by and resulting in low attention span.

The third hypothesis springs from a life-stage, age, societal flux kind of area. If real life, earning one’s livelihood, responsibilities are quite difficult enough without having to grapple with leisure activities which also task and challenge one’s mind. So the popcorn stimuli are exclusively escapist in their nature.

I would like to believe it’s the last one – well, because then it becomes a conscious choice rather than an involuntary (physiological or environmental as the case may be)and worrisome one.

What do you think?

P.S. all of you who are scaling intellectual Mount Everest’ as you grow older, kindly refrain from stating that – my lethargic mind has been tying itself into discomfited knots as it is.

Bombay Diaries Volume 2: Scatty thoughts of nothing in particular

I have realized that in my life, how the day is likely to turn out is completely and absolutely dependent on traffic choke points which I encounter in my daily routine. For me, one of the big ones is the Mahim-Bandra causeway. On the rare days I manage to sail through it with minimal traffic (No traffic is a myth in Bombay), I will suddenly find that every other aspect of the day suddenly falls in place. I will not get delayed in queues, the bus will leave on time and land on time, won’t be stuck with a smelly co-passenger, the maid will come, and every other chore will automatically be done smoothly without me having to hit my head on a few hundred walls.

That is my "I'm feeling lucky' day.

********************************************************************************
Speaking about the co-passengers, I find that my patience with blushy, gushy giggly sheltered women is very, VERY low these days. When a female in her late twenties calls up her husband and has conversations like this (transliterated from Marathi) "Ticket was for Rs.235 they gave it for Rs.225 ...giggle giggle...maybe it’s because it is afternoon they have reduced the ticket fare ..paroxysms of giggles...they also gave a small water bottle..giggle some more" and about forty five minutes more of this silly laughing fest. The urge to throw the woman under the bus to see if she giggles is quite high. I certainly WILL chuckle quite happily then.

**********************************************************************************
Random conversation with the mother

Ma: I want to go to Kolhapur to see the Ambabai Temple and to Ganapathi Phule to see the Ganesh temple there.
Me: Are you planning to do a tirth yatra?

A sidebar here. My mother is NOT one of those prayer-bead-counting super religious people. She is quite street-smart, social and outgoing and well very Bambaya (almost verging on tapori sometimes). Not the devout pilgrim school of thought/deeds in other words. heck the couple of times, I have asked her to meditate she has gone off happily to sleep.

So anyways conversation continues

Ma (Dramatically sighing) : Haan ab umar ho gayi, kya karein tirth yatra hi karni padhegi.
I have to kindly point out to her that not less than a month ago she was clambering on to the Fort at Aguada with the best of us and frolicking (well standing) in the sea and behaving in a very untirth like fashion.

My mother is such a fraud.