Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
(Anti)Social Networking
A former classmate of mine who is on the verge of completing her Journalism degree (that I too had joined but later left, as regulars to my blog might know) recently uploaded a questionnaire to her Facebook account and requested everyone to take time off and fill it up. All for research purposes. Well, this is exactly the kind of thing I love doing.. filling up forms and all that! So I quickly clicked a few buttons and reached the questionnaire. All about social networking sites, how much time I spend online, what I do online etc. Pretty interesting, eh?
Now after answering sixty odd questions, my mind was buzzing with Facebook, Blogger and Youtube. My mind went back to the times when internet was more like a distant reality. Then I thought about the day I got my first computer (class III), the day that computer got an internet connection (class V), the day I created my first email address (again in class V, not to mention the long hours I took to cook up a funky name so that I could appear ten times cooler in front of my friends that I actually was!), the day I joined my first social networking site (Hi5) and so on and so forth. Since then, I have come a long way and so has the internet.
From Hi5, I graduated to Orkut. Hi5 became a thing of the past and it started being looked upon as a site for bacchas. Now, I kinda felt sorry for it. I would imagine a tiny person with "Hi5" instead of a head, sulking away in a corner, sniffing and shedding tears (I have this thing of feeling very sorry for inanimate things. When I was little, I would pick up a spoon to eat with and feel really sorry for the rest, imagining that they would become sad and lonely, and thinking, "Sorry guys, I'll definitely pick you up next time.").
Orkut became all the rage for quite some time. Soon, everybody was battling a silent war, an unspoken war. Everyone wanted more "fans" than their friends, people were obsessed with who visited their profiles, there was competition to be the proud owner of thirty thousand scraps. Of course, I too was taken in by this madness. Luckily, I regained composure quite soon and quit the site the moment reality hit me. Orkut drove many people to their virtual nervous breakdowns.
Life was beautiful after that. I could bask in the sunshine once more and smell the fragrant flowers. The world appeared to be much more pleasant with much less pretence. But BAM! Good things don't last forever! Requests from friends filled my mailbox, asking me to join this "Facebook". I got tired of deleting these godforsaken mails and finally decided to check out the site. A few awkward moments of signing in later (the site was at that time too full of itself, asking totally pointless questions and giving too much importance to all kinds of years like year of birth, year of graduation blah blah..), I was in! Well, I didn't really use the so called "book" for a long time, not until it was amended to become more friendly, warm and approachable (words that were till now used only to describe people!). What do I say now? I am hooked! Yes, I took to "farming" for a while, but then my "plants" died and I started getting withdrawal symptoms (for those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, all I can say is you're better off not knowing!). But now I think I have finally found my grey cells and learnt to maintain a delicate balance between real and virtual.
But hey, there are times when the scale tips just a little...
Friday, February 5, 2010
Mini Celebrity
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
What Is..?

This is non-fiction, created from personal experience. Enjoy!
Horror is when you go to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and see two pairs of eyes glinting in the corner, only to discover later that they are your pet dogs.
Disaster is trying to heave a six kilo blanket over your head, failing miserably, knocking off objects from the table, creating a major racket and waking up your father in the process who absolutely roars at anyone who disturbs his forty winks.
Sharing is pouncing into another person's lunch box to eat up her tasty aloo mattar and upon finishing it, offering her some soggy bread and butter from your own tiffin.
Health is rapidly climbing three flights of stairs without breaking a sweat and gloating about it, only to crash to the floor moments later because of a blackout.
Drama is making an attempt to skip school on a cold, foggy morning by saying that you can't move as you're "paralyzed" and that "it hurts to move".
Warmth is braving your first Delhi winter by snuggling close to your pet doggies in their bed, not worrying about the hair or the smell even though you have just taken bath and washed your hair too.
Punishment is waiting eagerly from morning to evening for your brother to come home with your precious packet of chicken biryani, only to see him come back empty handed as its Tuesday!
Retarded is being in school, firmly knotting your tie with the ties of two friends and spinning all over the grounds like a catherine wheel; then fleeing back pell-mell into the classroom when the Principal spots you from the opposite end and raises her fists in the air.
Gratitude is what you feel when your mother decides to give you extra bucks for shopping.
Laughter is sitting in class with your best friend and sniggering uncontrollably at the most random things like the Geography teacher talking about Kutchi people or something as remotely uninteresting as "La Mode" and pronouncing it wrongly in the first place, resulting in us breaking into peals of laughter.
Peace is hugging your loved one tight, giving out little sighs every now and then and not having a care in the world.
Relief is letting our a huge fart after an excruciating day of backache, stomach ache and general uneasiness and realizing that you weren't getting a heart attack after all.
Trust is not thinking once, let alone twice, when your boyfriend lounges on a beach filled with bikini clad girls a hundred times hotter than you.
Comfort is moving your bum just a little bit so that blood circulation returns back to normal.
Discomfort is being cramped in a metro train with a large flatulent woman on one side and a man with an erection on the other.
Focus is not feeling a thing even when an entire ice cube melts on the palm of your hand.
Out of focus is when you keep muttering "Hmm. Hmm." for the entire ten minutes that your mother narrates her shopping list, then ultimately asking "WHAT?"
Friendship is the ease with which you can sprawl yourself in someone else's house, no matter how early in the morning or how late at night. It is also completing each other's sentences and saying "I was about to say the same thing!" at least once.
Confidence is suddenly realizing that you can drive a manual transmission car even though you have been searching for a gearless one since ages.
Contentment is craving for something chocolate-y for a week, then finally laying hands on a rich chocolate cake injected with even richer chocolate syrup, with chocolate ice cream on the side.
Discontentment is buying more makeup that you would ever need and still wanting more.
Love is missing someone's presence even years after their death.
Obedience is listening to the Principal when she tells you to walk in a line, even though there are only two of you.
Curiosity is sneaking into the kitchen as a child to see what your mother has made, finding a bowl of halwa and taking a HUGE bite, only to find out two seconds later that it's a bowl of mashed, boiled potatoes.
Disgust is the feeling you get when you see a child throw up into his own hands. More disgust is what you feel when you see him eating it again.
Family is crowding around the dining table while the power supply has gone for a toss, talking about anything and everything under the sun; laughing, crying, discussing.
Mystery is being taught by a teacher for over a year, exchanging emails, chatting online, being buddies; but once you're done with exams and out of school, finding out that she is untraceable.
More might follow soon. Any ideas?
Friday, December 25, 2009
Self Critique
How do some people manage to write the way they do? I look at people around me and realize that I will probably never be able to write as articulately as they do. I am a girl of horribly simplistic thoughts and equally simplistic writing. Maybe this stems from my overall personality; I call a spade a spade. In school too, I was the one who could speak well and write well, but never was I the one who could string together eloquent sentences or delicate poetry. It is for this same reason that I rate myself an average writer. No, I am not looking for compliments here, just admitting the truth! It takes a genius to write well, to make the whole world listen. Oh, and its not only writing I am talking about here! Those geniuses out there who spin their yarns, its so difficult for me to understand what they mean! They really make me question my intelligence. I am having my Homer Simpson moment now. Doh!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Hyperventilating Insects!

"So, how was your Science Olympiad today?"
"Oh, it was soo easy Ma'am! Here, take a look at the question paper.."
"Hmm, so what option did you choose for this question.. Which of the following dissolves in water - a) oil b) salt c) insect d) paper.."
"SALT!"
(So I decided to engage in some leg pulling...)
"Oh, but don't you know, insects dissolve in water much quicker!"
"No Ma'am! If you put an insect in water uski bus saans phool jaegi.."
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Nose Bejewelled
I was barely a year old when my mother got my ears pierced. She says "I took you out of sheer excitement." Perhaps she was scared that I would refuse to let someone drill holes in my ears later. Perhaps she did not want me to remember the pain.
Nineteen years later, a few days back to be precise, I got my nose pierced. Let me tell you, I was ready much earlier, but a certain friend scared the living daylights out of me by talking about "unbearable pain" and the "excruciating recovery period". I put off the idea until it completely slipped out of my mind, but it all came back when I saw a dear friend's nostril. On it perched a beautiful white stone, catching the light and glinting pompously. "If she can go through the pain, I sure hell can!", I said to myself.
So off I went to the piercer, with dear friend and three of her friends in tow (all with pierced noses). The five of us trooped into the pretty silver shop. What do you think I saw? A lady bending over a girl about my age, about to pierce her nose. Let me tell you, it looked as easy as eating cornflakes. The girl happily got up, paid and left. "Darn", I said to myself, "that looked pretty neat!". You can safely say that about that time, all my fears left me.
"Choose a pin for me, I'm confused."
"How 'bout this one?"
"Yeah that looks cool. Y'think it'll suit me?"
"I think it'll look especially good on you!"
"Ok but have a look at the others as well."
"Hmm how 'bout this? Or this? And look at this one!"
"No, no. And absolutely no to that!!"
"Well I think you should go with our first choice then.."
To tell you the truth, it didnt hurt one bit, big thanks to the piercer's expertise! She pushed in the pin in a split second and by the time I knew it, I had a beautiful stone glinting pompously on my nostril too.
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