Ready. Get Set. View!

Bird watching, whale watching, solar eclipse viewing, tv viewing and bride-viewing. Ugh.
Bride-viewing. Ugh.

Honestly though, I never really had a problem with the whole process. I thought it was something that everyone just has to go through and it was rather fun when my sisters had to do it. But seriously.. bride-viewing.. ugh..I'm sorry everytime I say the word it makes me wanna say ugh cos it is...just UGH!

Viewing it seems. Like a bride.. is a view.. and why is it bride viewing? The bride "views" the groom too! Why not groom-viewing? Ugh. Ok maybe it the viewing bit that gets to me. Viewing. Yeesh... I just checked the thesaurus to see if there is a better term... apparently it could only get a lot worse. It could be bride-observation or bride-scrutiny or bride-analysis (You gotta admit this one sounds kinda cool though) or bride-inspection. 

Yuck. No matter what you call it, the whole damn process will remain as yucky as ever. For those who are not familiar with the grand process, you could either google it... or I could just tell you since you've been kind enough to read bout it this far without having a clue what I'm talking bout. Bride viewing is when a random guy's mum n dad decides to meet up with a random girl's mom n dad for tea or whateva and talk to each other for say half hour and let the random guy and girl talk for maybe 10 minutes as a result of which they are expected to fall head over heels in love with each other and want to marry each other immediately. 

But the guy falling in love with the girl will be unaccounted for if the mom and dad does not fall in love with the girl first, based on her looks, the number of ornaments she is (read - been forced to) wearing, her posture, her voice, her teeth, her skin colour, her size (now I could be referring to any size..including shoe size), the way she ties her hair, if she's smudged her kohl, the way she makes small talk and the way she smiles and smiles until her cheeks fall off. After which the guy's mom n dad has to fall in love with the girl's mom and dad. And the house. And the furniture. And the car.  And the servant. And more. You would sooo not have found a defnition this apt if you had googled. :-)

So anyways, I kinda thought that it was gonna be fun. I mean if you think of it, you get to check out a random guy head to toe without even having to step out of the house and with your parents permission. How bizzare is that!?

Except the closer you get to actually experiencing it, the more you realise that this is a bad bad idea.
The first guy who came to see me... well I didnt even give the poor guy a chance. I told my dad that I don't think I like the guy right after I read his biodata and saw his picture which I believe he took right after or right before he threw up. I also dug up stuff from Facebook and Orkut about the poor lad that could help me justify why exactly I don't like him. Even then my dad was under the impression that if I "just speak to the guy, I will change my mind" and fall hopelessly in love with him. I didn't think so but whatever. Decided to humor him.

The only thing I was worried bout was everyone making a big huge deal out of it and getting all nervous. I was hardly nervous or excited about it. I was totally and entirely tensed about my driver's license test the next day though. This seemed like a cakewalk compared to that.

 
Things were all good until the relatives show up. I forgot to mention that for these kinda "ceremonies" more often than not, relatives and friends are invited to witness the grand event all and to bug you until you  wanna run off and join a monastery. 

So until then everyone was minding their own business and I was playing with my nephew and the chickens n all. The relatives bug me into changing my clothes and getting ready although it would be hours until the "viewers" would show up. I didn't argue. I went and changed into "very" decent girl clothes and totally did everything they wanted me to and tried my best to turn me into someone I'm not. One of my relatives wanted me to slap on a coupla layers of foundation. That really pissed me off. I mean say I get married to this dude. And the day after I'm married he sees me without the 10 layers of foundation, I wouldn't want him to die of heart failure. I mean in this setting, I'm really not gonna get married to a guy who loves me for my personality or shit. Mite as well marry a guy who likes me for what I truely and honestly look like atleast. So yeah anyway, I swallow my frustration and ignore everything else they have to say.

Anyway to cut the long story short, the guy shows up. And I was busy playing with the chicken. Mom announces their arrival and suddenly I have this incredible urge to laugh uncontrollably. I reaally hoped I wouldn't go stand in front of them and have a giggling fit. Maybe it was then that the ridiculousness of it all sank in. 

I sneak a peek and see the guy who looks up and sees me at the same time. In a normal situation I would've totally gone all la-la-la at this point since I loooove filmy moments like this. Right then it just made my stomach ache. Not in a good way either. I was forbidden from going out there and meeting them until I'm called out. So I'm sitting there in my room, texting my friends and waiting and waiting cos I was really hungry and my folks had got all these goodies and snacks for when these people show up. My sis comes in and tells me that they're eating now. Oh goody now I can go. No not yet, says Sis. Ugh.

 
So I'm waiting and waiting. They finish eating and they still havent called me out. Now I was like oh good, maybe they all forgot all about me and why they came and now they'll just leave and this nightmare will be over! And thats when Mum comes in with the same smug smile she had when she once caught me checking out guys from the window in my room, before I could even deny what I was doing. I'm not sure why she had that smile on now. Anyhow, I step out with a broad fake smile. I totally rock at fake smiles. You can never ever tell when I'm faking it. Its an art that I've perfected. So I'm fake smiling at all these people and I totally check the guy out. 

And the first impression that I have of him is that he's the kinda guy you see in buses. Not the touchy-feely jerks. The kinds that sit in the last seat and stare at you until you get off the bus. I had a feeling I might've even seen this fellow in a bus somewhere. And he was staring at me right then. Yikes.

 
The mom and aunt and whoever that was makes small talk. I smile and talk, smile and talk. I felt like I was acting out the part of decent prospective bride in some B-grade movie.

And as much as I hated all of it and wanted to kill everyone for making me do it, I was obliged to behave. Too complicated to explain why.

 
There were these awkward silences where noone would say anything. They'd just have these huge toothy smiles and they'd all be staring at me. You have nooo idea how freaky that is. You look at them and they're just smiling and staring. Like in psycho movies! So I look at the guy. Who looks away whenever I look at him. Hello! What was with this dude?! He looked extremely uncomfortable and was totally fake laughing too. Well, it sounded fake. And he kept laughing at things that weren't funny at all! I hate having to do that. Smiling is ok. I really can't laugh at unfunny things unless its done/said by a really really Really cute guy. But even that has limits.

Hmm, anyway everything depended on the 5 minutes that I get to talk to him personally. I had even prepared a list of things I could ask him (few of which were totally vetoed by mum). I had the whole thing planned in my head. Either I prove to mum and dad that this guy is totally unmarry-able or I find something or the other to make him seem irresistable. Anything could happen in those 5 minutes.

 
Dad utters the sacred words : Maybe we should let the two of them speak privately.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
Guy (looking bewildered) :  I don't have anything to say!
Me (in my head) :  You've got to bloody kidding me! How the %$*& am I gonna fall madly and crazily in love with you if you don't let me talk to you! Should I say that I wanna talk? Would that be breaking the "decency" code? Do I really want to talk to this guy anyway? Why prolong this process? The sooner they leave, the sooner I can eat.

So I say nothing. Blah. Who cares.

I look at the food sadly. It was all almost over. :-(
I sadly look over at the little boy who came along with these people. He was kicking a ball towards my nephew. *sigh* I could kick way better than that. I wanted to go play with them. Damned bride-viewing nonsense. I look at the guy again who looks away again. Ugh.

When they all finally got up to leave, one of the women who came along with them held my hand and said goodbye. And she wouldn't let go! She was smiling and staring and smiling and not letting go! I freaked! I thought she wanted to take me home right then itself! Yeah sure like I'd go home with the guy who doesn't even wanna talk to me. I really couldnt understand it though. Why didn't he wanna talk to me? And why did he have to look so appalled at the idea of it? I hardly look intimidating. I couldn't even intimidate a lil baby! What was that guy's problem anyway?! Stupid guy missed the conversation of a lifetime. Oh well, his loss.

Before he left he once again did the whole filmy thing and turned around and glanced one last time and stuff. Very filmy. Yeah, can't speak to me but puts up all this filmy shit. Yeah. Okay.Whatever.
Anyhow, that ended and turns out nobody liked anybody very much and that was my narrow escape.
I still think that the custom sucks but its actually fun to think of now. And its given me something to write about.

 
Few more people came to see me after that. But it was all awfully dull. My sister figured I should just give in and marry some guy to put an end to these visits. Yeah, the ultimate reason to get married! I'm sure 'll figure out another way out of this. I've got time until my next bride-viewing session, don't I? Ugh!

Interviewobia!

                               Ever wonder what Hell is gonna be like? I personally think Hell is gonna be different for different people. For me its gonna be this room with a chair in it and and a big scary man waiting, armed with an endless list of questions for an interview that lasts for an eternity. As in job-interview.. not celebrity interview(well not yet atleast). And you know wat? Those interviewers could be in their version of Hell as well...Cos trust me... If you're ever given the opportunity to interview me... turn around and run for your life. Its gonna hurt you more than its gonna hurt me.. Hurt or rather make you wanna kill yourself.

When I begin an interview, its almost like my brains stop functioning and the only words in my vocabulary are "ummm" and "what?".I suck so bad that I might as well  go dye my hair blond and get a boob-job done. (I've nothing against that sections of people in the society personally. I've never even met one actually. I'm just quoting somebody.)
I've always been supremely bad at anything that involved questions and answers being spoken aloud. I tell people "I knew the answer to that but I just got so nervous and I forgot it." Thats not really true. Yes, I get nervous but most of the time I have nooo clue what the answer is either. I mean, I prepare so hard most of the time and work out specific answers. Like if I've memorized A,B,C and the interviewer goes "Sooooo, what comes after B?", I would toootally freak out and sing him the ummm song. I sometimes wish I could just say "I dunno".. but someone once told me never admit to not knowing anythin during an interview. Which is a pity cos that would've been my reply to pretty much aall the questions - Why do you want to work in advertising? I dunno. What sort of a renumeration do you expect?  I dunno. Do you prefer design or copy? I dunno. Cos seriously and honestly I don't know! They should have something like an open test where they ask the questions and then give you like a week or a month to come up with the answers. I could've googled aall the questions then and come up with wonderful answers. Sometimes life feels so meaningless and empty without Google.
I always flunked vivas in college. I got a zero for a Hindi spoken test once and I thought it was hilarious at that point. But its kinda pathetic now when you think of it. And one time this viva lady inturrupted me while I was giving her an answer to her question and said -"My dear child, you're not making mistakes.. you're making blunders!" And I just gave her a beeg toothy smile, cos I had noo idea what she meant, just like I had noo idea what her question was and no idea what on earth I was goin on about. I mean, wasn't blunders and mistakes the same? Huh?
The reason I was unemployed for sooo long was whenever I applied some place and they called back to set a date for an interview and I chickened out and ran for cover. I can't help it! Its a disease!! Or is it? Ok, Google break!

Ok so maybe there is'nt exactly an interview phobia but maybe its somthing like a cross between Phronemophia (Fear of Thinking) and Ophthalmophobia (Fear of being Stared at) and Lalophobia (Fear of Speaking). So my point being, its really not something I can help.
            I figured maybe if I were to do a phone interview, I would fare much better since I wouldn't have to see the big scary question man. So I went through a phone interview recently and sadly enough it wasnt any better... if not worse.
 I messed up right from the beginning.
He goes - Hello.
I go Hello.
He- I'm so n so calling from so n so company for that interview we scheduled this morning.
Me- Oh.. Helloooow (The hello normal people usually reserve for pretty lil girls or babies)
Ugh.
The guy was totally sweet. He probably actually figured I've been transplanted with a 6 year old's brain so he spoke to me appropriately. I applaud his patience. I mean I concluded by the end of the conversation that this was a man with a wife and young children cos there is noo way he could've put up with thaaat much bullshit for thaat long. He kept asking me stuff like he aaactually expected me to know the answer. I mean they were simple questions. And I would've been able to have given him essay answers to them had he given me say coupla hours or days to think about it. Poor guy wanted me to answer em soo bad. At one point it went like this.. This is the hypothetically version k. Say he had asked me somthing like "Ok what is green-eyed and goes meow?"
I went like ummmm...ummmmm..ummm for a good 5 minutes. And then finally went kaa...
He was like yeaaaah...yeaaahh?
Me - Kaaa...umm..
Him - Kaaaa...?What comes after kaaa... Come on now, you can do it.
Me - Ummm...
Him- Do you want to think about it for a while?
Me- Yes!
Him - Ok, tell me when you want me to prompt you.
Me - Okay......Hmmmm.........(silence)........ummmm....(silence)......well......(silence)......
Him - Do you want me to prompt you now? (Its almost like he's begging me to put him outta his misery)
Me - Umm.. okay.

Him - The first part is correct. Its also has a tail and rhymes with Mat!

Me - Ummmmmmmmmmmmm....... Kaa...at?

Him- YESSSS! (trust me, he wouldn't know such joy even as his son graduates from college)

But he's a daredevil this guy. He actually goes and asks me a 2nd question. I almost felt sorry for him.
So this is to all the interviewers I've encountered at some stage of my life... on behalf of the bright-eyed unspeakably dumb female who sat in front of you and made you Hate your job, I'm sorry. But it really is a disease!

Wedding Bells are Ringing...And Ringing...And Ringing..

Do you ever sit at home and think when you have absolutely nothing to do - "If only I had someplace to go or something to do?" And then like someone heard u say that, BAM!! Its Wedding Season.

        Weddings are great. I totally love weddings. I cry at most of em. Well, if not for happy couple, cos of the heat or cos of the sticky/pokey/itchy/un-breathably-dressy dressy clothes.
Or I'm smiling. At every random person who comes up to me and goes "Oh my god! How you've grown!" I mean I would've seen them just the day before at another wedding and I've grown since then? Really?
          But no seriously though. I love weddings. I love dressing up. I love seeing people all dressed up. And each wedding is like a whole different movie. Sure its nothing like in the movies. No nach-gaana n all. And you don't meet any Salman Khan types there(not that I like Salman Khan, I'm just refering to a wedding movie guy). But there is almost always this one guy who you play "aankon ki ishare" with at each wedding. As in one guy per wedding. Not the same guy. Thats it. No talking. No exchanging numbers. No complications. A smile maybe is as far as it would go. Thats the beauty of this relationship. You don't even know if you'll see them again. Most probably not. Its like a one-night stand..At the sweetest level.
And sometime when you go digging for info and you find that you've been eyeball-flirting with your far far far related cousin but still your cousin or worse your nephew, it just makes it a tad bit icky. So ignorance is bliss.
                 Althooooough.. sumtimes, it could be heart-breaking too... This one time I fell absolutely head over heels fell in love with this aMazing looking Rahul Gandhi types guy at a wedding only to realise that he's the groom. Blah. So yeah, sometimes finding out minor details like that does not hurt.
And its also no fun when you don't have the right sorta company at weddings. I was sitting around with this aunt of mine at one wedding when she went "Oh ooh look at the guy in the white shirt. Like him?"
I was taken aback for a bit then I'm like "Umm.. well no not really.. "
She: Oh.
Pause
Me: I liked this other guy I saw sumtime back. (I did'nt wanna disappoint her)
she: Who who who?
me: scanning crowd " Ohhh him near the door. White striped shirt."
she to other aunties : she liked that guy over there.
other aunties: that skinny guy? Hmm really..who is he?
me: Oh My GOD! (WTF!)
She: Do you know who he is?
me: Um.. no. Do you?
she: Nope! I'll go find out.
me: Wha.. wait..
And before I can say anything more, she's gone. Vroom... I can't stop laughing. This is so unreal. I'm all like I should've hung out with my aunties more often if they were gona be so considerate. I mean I have never had anyone try and find out stuff about a guy for me at weddings. Well not an aunt anyway. This is soooo awesome!
She comes back.
me: Well?

she: Finished his MBA, shudh jatakam (clean horoscope, i guess), thats his mom and dad..(pointing at people i do not even bother looking at)

and she launches into a conversation with mum and other aunties..
Thats it? His name? His number? Does he have a girlfriend?? Is he on Facebook? Hellooo..
So like I said.. the right company... very important.

           Okay, lets forget about guys now (Nooooooooooo not completely.. lets just tuck them into a smaller part of our brain)

I like to look at the couple on stage and figure out how their future is gonna be. I mean you can totally tell if you stare at them long enough. I cannot give you examples without offending anyone. So you try it yourself.
I don't like the fact that my hair sometimes gets mixed in the food. I've had a lotta unusual things hang off my hair. (And I'm not just talkin bout food)
I like the drum roll at weddings (a south-indian wedding speciality. I don't know if it happens at northie weddings. Actually I dunno what happens at a north-indian wedding. I've never been to one :-( I'm kinda hoping its like the wedding Priyanka and Shahid's wedding in Kaminey. That is like my secret dream wedding. It would be so incredibly awesome to get married like that. Dance dance dance Marry dance dance dance.) The drum roll when the big knot tying happens. It sorta replicates the heartbeat of the bride and groom at that point. And it always gives me goosebumps. Its so final. Like this is it. Knot tied. Chained for life. Its like that Shania Twain song - From this moment...um.. something something happens.. I don't remember wat. But the Moment. This is that moment. One thing I've noticed though. Most of the wedding, the groom just sorta places the chain around the bride's neck. He tries to work the clasp (hehe no not thaat clasp..please! Dirty-minded people) I meant the clasp thingy on the chain. And fails. So the groom's mum or sister does the actual tying. So technically, its the groom's mum or sis who marries the girl..hyuk hyuk! Oh crap, you know wat? When this same thing happens at my wedding, I'll probably snort and start giggling cos I'll think of this. See, this is why people like me should not be allowed to get married.
But to those who went ahead and did it.. I Applaud You.
 The biggest daredevils on earth are married. Thats why they're really and truely called daredevils.

I Hate Because I Can

Dr. Sigmund Freud defined hate as an ego state that wishes to destroy the source of its unhappiness. More recently, the Penquin Dictionary of Psychology defines hate as a " deep, enduring, intense emotion expressing animosity, anger, and hostility towards a person, group or object."

5 Things I Hate

Picking up the phone
I absolutely de-test having to pick up the house phone. Cos a) nobody ever calls me in dat. and b) I hate having to make small talk with whoever does call. It just infuriates my mom when I'm sitting like 2cms away from the phone and still make her walk all the way from the kitchen to come up pick up the damn thing. And I hate when people respond to a Hello with a Hello. And then I say Hello again and they say Hello again and I say Hello again and.... Grrr. Makes me want to reach into the phone and clobber the person on the other end. I kinda appreciate prank calls in a way. Cos they keep the conversations short and simple. And its ok to hang up rudely. One time this breather calls up (breather : person who calls on the phone and instead of talking demostrates interesting breathing patterns instead) and I was in a real bad mood so I come out with all abuses I was aware of at that point. And all of a sudden the breather goes Hello and he sounds an awful lot like my Dad's Boss. Ugh. I hang up and pray that a third leg emerges out of the back of my neck so that I can kick myself conviniently. I've never been able to look the guy straight in the eye after that. And I never really figured out why he called up to breath.

Having a snot sneeze

Sometimes its nice because it sorta like clears your head and stuff. But have you ever had a snot sneeze when lying flat on ur back and have no tissue or hanky nearby? Not a pretty picture, I tell you. It was different when we were little kids and it was okay to wipe it whereever we wanted (what, that was not okay??) And are you kind who looks into the hanky after sneezing? I am. Can't help it. I have to see if it made a pretty little pattern. Please don't stop visiting my blog cos I'm such a pig.

And also at this point, I would like a moment of silence to think about Tariq, the booger eater in my class in Grade one. I mean sure we all used to go all eww and stuff, but I secretly had a crush on him for making an effort to be different.

People Looking at me Brush my Teeth
Brushing to me is almost as personal as peeing or bathing. Thing is I'm not the neatest brusher on earth. I'm a sloppy brusher. I get foam all over the place. Its like a foam fest. If someone were standing next to me, I'd get a little foam on them as well. I get creeped out thinking bout couples who brush together and share the same toothbrush and stuff. My husband would want to divorce me at the sight of my toothbrush alone. Tends to look like I washed the entire bathroom with it.

Having to repeat myself 867493826 times

So okay maybe I don't have the loudest voice in the world. But sometimes I feel that people just go "huh?" just to annoy you. I usually try twice and then say "its not important" the third time. Do you know how many important thoughts of mine have been left unsaid cos it this? Thank god I have this blog.

My nose
I didn't always hate it. I mean it was a normal nose until the day I was suddenly cursed. See I used to make fun of my sister's nose throughout half my life. So I'm sure she had something to do with my nose turning out the way it did. Its like what someone said somewhere once : I look at the mirror in the morning and the first thing I run into is my nose... or something like that. It was funnier when I read it. If anyone knows the quote I'm talkin bout please let me know. So yeah thats my case. I wouldnt call it the biggest part of my body. Maybe the 4rth biggest. But its defnitely the biggest thing on my face.

How did the damn chicken do it???

This is it. Its now or never.
Sweat is dripping down my face. I clutch the end of my dupatta. Close my eyes and send a silent prayer upwards. I bite my lips. Worry lines form on my forehead. People are staring. I can tell. I can feel their eyes on me. They're laughing. I can hear it in my head. I look right. I look left. My leg inches forward. And then jerks backwards. I do this a coupla times. It feels like a stupid dance step now. I look at the man next to me give me a weird look and cross the goddamn road without a care in the world.
I mean how.. how do people do that? Cross that obstacle of death just like that like they're walking from their bedroom to the kitchen? I mean its an open trap. Its like running through fire. Like jumping put the window and hoping to land safely... I need help. I can't cross roads. :-(
I am gona have to sue my kindergarten teachers. They made it seem so simple. Just look right. Left. and Walk... uh like yeah right!! Its more like Look left..right.. then left right left right left right frantically till you feel you head spinning. Then venture onwards and then change your mind. Then step backwards then try again..and again and again and again. Maybe you'll make it on your 20th attempt.
And when this is whole road-crossing-step-dance is going on, I feel that the whole world is looking at me. Not just when I'm giving myself motivational you-can-do-this-have-faith-in-yourself talks. Just generally when I'm standing there looking stupid when the rest millions of people have already crossed. They're probably not looking cos they probably don't have That much time to waste.
 I think the joke should've gone "How did the chicken cross the road?" Because I sure as hell don't care why he did it.
The one thing that I totally respect the teachers for teaching us regarding road crossing is to hold someones hands.. I mean my dad still grabs my hand when we're crossing roads. I totally give him the "oh pfft please,dad.. Do I look 5 to you?" expression and snorts, but still subtly tighten my grip at the same time.
             But I totally detest guys or people who go "Hmm, why do all girls make such a huge deal bout crossing roads?" Ok that statement was totaaally uncalled for.. by many of you. Just cos I'm a road-crossing-dummy does not mean that you can generalize. You've already tagged the "bad driver" tag on women (which btw is sooo not true either. My driving is getting great each passing day. And I've only crashed once! No biggie!)
                 You know what I looove though. Bridges. I think they should put em everywhere.. Or have like a lil button which when pressed has like a tiny yellow bridge( I dunno why yellow) unfold from underground and assemble automatically whenever needed.. Ooorr.. Those walk, don't walk lil red and green men would be fine too.. Easier since its already been invented. I'm not too sure bout how I feel bout the zebra crossing thingies. I mean I like the fact that if someone hits you when you are at a zebra, you get lotta money n all.. Dunno if its worth it..Hmm..
I've had a coupla experiences while crossing roads. Especially in those roads that are actually not roads but a football ground parading around as a road. I mean those things where 500 roads meet. How, on earth does one cross that thing? I'd probably close my eyes and run screaming at the top of my voice, all the way to the other end. I admire how people talk on the phone while crossing the road. I mean talk bout multi-tasking. I can't even walk and drink water at the same time. Let alone defy death and enquire about..whatever I'm enquiring bout on the phone, at the same time.
Its amazing how dogs do it. In my life-time I've never seen even one dog get hit by a vehicle when crossing roads. I'm sure they do. But most of the time they make such narrow escapes. Its like they're trained. They should have like a Road-Crossing class as a secondary subject in Driving schools. Where you learn in not so busy roads and then graduate to medium busy and then finally to something like a highway or something, which is where I think I'm gonna die someday.
While I think of a way to put that idea across to my driving school officials, you take care of yourself when you're crossing the roads. Its actually no laughing matter. Pedestrian fatalities have increased by 20 percent, from 105 in 2005 to 126 in 2006. Well, thats in Ontario, Canada. I googled and this is all I could find in short notice. But you get the message. Be sure to look right.. and left.. and right left right left right left right left right... You'll get used to the dizziness after some time.

For the Love of Tea!

                     It was like just any other normal day. That was until Mom decides to disappear. She does that every now and then and I used to get all freaked out thinking she got abduct by aliens or carried away by giant bees or shrunk and fell down the sink (Ok, this was when I was really really young). But no, it always turns out to be something boring like she went shopping or she was at the neighbours or something blah.
So I wake up one Sunday morning (read afternoon) to see she's pulling a Mary Poppins disappearing act on me again. So its just me and Dad in the house. And its almost time for tea. And I knew that Dad was gonna turn into the Scrooge from The Christmas Past (Or was that the Grinch?) if he doesn't get his tea on time. So I do what I do best. I go to my room and send Mom telepathic messages. I would've called her on her phone but knowing Mom, it would most probably start ringing from somewhere right behind me and scare the hibijeebies outta me. My telepathy would've worked just fine if Dad hadn't come into the room with his Great Idea!
The Great Idea involved Me going into the Kitchen and doing whatever it is that they do and come up with his life-replenishing cup of Tea! Me - Kitchen- Tea. Uh, yeah right!
But you do not shake your head or utter any word that may in any sense convey the meaning of "NO WAY DADDIO" in the house during the days on which Dad is tea-deprived.
So in a state of hopeless surrender, I venture into the kitchen. Tea... how hard can it be? I've even made it before like a bazillion years ago. When I poured burning hot water onto my hand and ran around the apartment like a screaming banshee (what is a screaming Banshee anyway?Have to google that sometime) So yeah, can't say I'm an entire amateur in this department.

So I see cups, we need that. I see boiling round pan like thing which I'm not sure what its called. Its the thing in which you boil milk. The Boiler. Right.
So I know your either suppose to boil milk or water in it to make tea. Hmm...
Okay so I leave that for then and open the cupboard to find the tea bags. Instead I find like 10 billion unlabelled bottles of brown coloured powder. Awesome.
I do not find any tea bags which is like a huge bummer because that whole tea-making fiasco I had years ago involved tea bags. Tea without tea-bags...now thats like a whole different ball game. Oh well. I'm half way in. Might as well go all the way in and drown and die possibly.
I open up one of the bottle and sniff. Aaah, the heavenly scent of fresh tea. Well, that was probably not fresh tea, but how was I to know what fresh tea smelt like anyway, so this was good enough.
Found the sugar too. And milk too. Ok, so I had all the ingredients. Now I just had to figure out in which order to put them all together. Minutes tick by. Dad gets grouchier. Okay, thats it. There was no use in pretending any furthur that I could do this. I get my phone and call up the next best thing to mom (in terms of tea-making.. well ok in a lotta other terms too :-P).. My sister!
With no time for hellos or you know whats, I explain the situation to her. She tells me exactly what to do. To put in the......um....well ok I don't remember what she told me anymore, but yeah she told me what she told me.
Oh and she told me to put in the tea powder only when the milk starts boiling. I'm like all yeah yeah hey did you see the new trailor of blah blah blah blah.... and whooooop the milk sorta like starts inflating itself and pops outta the Boiler. I put in the tea powder and turn off the stove. The milk stops acting crazy.
Hmmm.. ok, thats it? This is tea? Why is all white? And why is the tea powder floating bout like little blackheads on the top? Ok, maybe I should like let it boil a little longer.
I turn the stove back on and stand back in case the milk decides to jump out on me again. It seemed normal. It was even turning the right color. Yay!
 Sis had asked me use the filter thingy to keep out the tea powder because it would'nt get dissolved. I couldn't find any tea residue in there but that was probably because I boiled it twice. Hmm, now there's something I should tell my sister to try. With a smile on my face, I pour my work of art into a cup and stared in horror. What had began as a cup of milk filled to the brim was  now 1/4th of a cup of tea. What the!
With no time to ponder over the marvels of evaporation and stuff, I  ransack the cupboard and find the tiniest possible tea cup that we owned. I poured in the tea into this miniscule cup which filled up immediate and made the world a happier place for me again.
I place it on a saucer and take it over to Dad who looked like something else that I would refer to as the Boiler now. I hand him the tea and go to my room. The thing with my dad is whatever I do, he praises me like crazy and ends it with "You should've studied to be a ....". So far I've got baker, interior designer, massuese, artist, nurse/doctor, actor, hair stylist, gardener, table setter and food decorator.
So I kneeeew he was gonna tell me how good my tea is and how I should have been a professional tea-maker so I didn't stick around for it. But then of course, exactly three seconds later he calls me back. I'm like "Hoo boy, here we go again!"
Me: Yes, dad?
Dad: Hmm, this is really good, dear, but umm...just a tiny little thing...this is Coffee. I asked for tea.
Me: Whaaaa? (splutter, gasp, splutter)
Dad : But thats ok. Its still good. You could like start a little cafe and make coffee professionally. Its really good.
I'm like..I couldn't even think of what to say. How?? How could that happen?How did my tea turn into coffee? I put in tea....didn't I?
Apparently, I can't distinguish between the smell of tea and coffee. So the "heavenly scent of tea" was really the "heavenly scent of coffee". Which also explains the whole magically dissolving "tea" powder. Oh well. At least Dad seems happy. And whats the lesson that I learnt from this? That I apparently can make super good cafe-type coffee. Yawn... so what else is new?

Through My Rose-Colored Glasses

Remember a time when we used to pick on the kid in class who wore glasses? Well, I don't cos I was that kid. I never got what the big deal was anyway. I always wanted to get glasses. I even lied to the ophthalmologist, pretending I could'nt read the white-light board. That was okay, cos I was headed for short-sightedness sooner or later cos of all the reading under the blanket/table with a torchlight and sitting too close to the computer. But then I was psyched when I got my first pair when I was bout 9 or 10. Was those cheap plasticy ones that you could throw down a building and it would'nt break (yes, I've tried that). As much as I loved how grown up and important I looked with em on, I could'nt quite get used to something stuck on my face. So I kept leaving it around. And losing it. I must've lost around 4 to 5 pairs like that.

Then I got these super huge ones black round ones, the damn thing was bigger than my face. It got me my nickname -Dilton. And I was kinda cool with that. And I was slowly getting used to the alien object perched on my nose.In fact, I was getting so used to it that I had them on all the time...even while bathing! And sometimes while sleeping. So I had to throw that one away cos of all the wear and tear it underwent. I don't remember a few pairs I had in between.

Later I had these funky blue ones. Like Elton John's. No...not quite,no. I think those were my last pair. No, I did'nt magically regain my sight after that. I moved up to contact lenses.

Now these lil suckers can be tricky at first. I sure was'nt comfortable with having to poke my eyeball with my finger. So I had to let my experienced sister do it for me for the first coupla weeks. Each eye took bout half an hour. I applaud my sister's patience. Though I do think she tried to poke my eyeball out intentionally a coupla times.

I hated the whole washing and cleaning and added responsibility that comes with contacts and the way I constantly pushed an invisible specs up the bridge of my nose, every five minutes. But I got sorta grew into it. Now I'm a total pro at contacts. Now I can put em on with my eyes closed...well...no..not really..its an expression..you get what I mean! Oh, I got a better one. Now I can put em on in the dark or even when I'm really really drunk.

So halfway through college, I was in a phase where I would'nt be caught dead wearing my glasses inside the campus. One time, I even ran outta contacts and I had to go someplace and I refused to step out wearing my glasses so I just held on to my friend so that she could lead the way and told her to inform me if anyone I know smiles at me from a distance. And my dear friend pointed out to a lotta random strangers every now and then and told me to smile. And I did. Not the decent small smile. The big huge gums and teeth and everythin beaaaming smile. I have no idea why I smiled like that. Maybe I was having a really good day or something. So yeah ha ha funny funny. Geez.

Then I got these ULTRA-COOL (well, at the point they were) square-shaped black frame glasses. And I could'nt stop wearing them! It totally gave me the mature look (15 years later and I was still depending on my glasses to make me look mature) Not the nerdy mature, the attitude-mature look. Although one of my friends did tell me I look like Johnny Bravo's mom. Hmm...

How I lost those glasses...I don't like to remember that story. I was in the bathroom, on the pot. I sneezed. It dropped off my face and fell in there. As much as I loved those glasses, I wasn't about to go in there. So I flushed. :-(

The one after that broke one of its legs so I stuck it on with cello-tape and used it for about a month.

And then my current one. Which was cool when I got em, but its sooo common that it makes me sick. But I use em 24/7. And I'm beyond caring how I look nowadays. So its all good.

Besides, everyone wears glasses nowadays! Even if they don't need it! I mean why do people get em for a power of 0.2 in one eye! Yeesh. Thats a disgrace to the near-sighted community. Few of my friends have got 4 or 5 pairs. Like accessories. To go with their clothes. I mean, is that like normal these days? Is everyone doin that? Should I go spectacle shopping now? Are they selling frames like for 10 bucks now?

I'm not into the whole laser or was it lasik (wait,was'nt that the first dog on space or something?) surgery thingy. Not that I would'nt enjoy having laser beamy things shot into my eyes. I just happen to love the fact that I can't see everything! I know thats weird. But there are so many things on earth I would rather not just see. Like dirt,muck, pollution, dirt, ickiness, gooey gross things, hairy men, war and stuff. I can just take off my glasses and slip into blessed blurriness. You can't ever do that if you have healthy eyes. Sure, I mite bump into people or walk into a glass door or go raving mad when I misplace my glasses, but for me the benefits list run longer. So cherish your glasses, I say!