Characters I love..

Miss Marple: I don't mind being her...

Because she makes being a spinster ( a realistic choice which I am evaluating ) look cool.
Because she sees things and understands them.
Because I wish I had an aunt like her.



Hercule Poirot: If I were a man, I would rather be this one..

Because he is very smart.
Because he is very vain.
Because he irritates people! ( i too love to do that )


Eric Cartman: My badasss side!

Because he can curse like anything.
Because he like revenge - so do I.
Because he taught you how to be selfish.


Pheobe: What I would love to be- for my friends

Because she is optimistic.
Because she believes.
Because she is street smart.
Because nothing can pull her down.
Because she is so unselfish towards her friends.


Feluda: The man on whom I have a crush on...

Because he is tall.
Because he is intelligent.
Because he cares for Tapesh, even if he acts otherwise.

Samantha Jones : What I wish I would be- to myself

Because she showed how women can have a good time.
Because she acted like a man in her relationships.
Because she was sexy.
Because she was fiercely protective of herself - and her friends.
Because she acted on the advice of her heart - and her brain.


NB: Off on long journeys.. will have breaks on blogging... Happy Xmas everyone... lemme see if I will get a socket to plug me laptop in and write!

The parcel

Once upon a time there was a girl who believed in travelling life with less luggage. She decided to dump all the baggage on the way - well, as much as she can - and walk on.

As a result, she gave away many things - things whose presence in her life reminded her of the heartbreaks she had experienced long past. She gave away the various stuffed toys, many books, changed hair styles, ideologies, friends, friendships - all to wipe out the sadness and move on.

She concluded that no man is worth crying over, or waiting for. He interactions with men became more like a dispassionate business investment - when it was risky, she withdrew her investments with minimum risk.

So when she was brought to grief by his words - even though she was acting like a prick and he was driven to his wits end - she decided to cut the chords.

Again.

However, there were logistical issues. Some of the books she took away from him were at her home. And she did need his jacket. Let me digress here and state that she used to fleece off things from him at the drop off a hat - from a joint to a long jacket with no conscience pangs.

"That is my only jacket" He had said when she wanted it.

"So?" She asked him.

He sighed. "I don't have anything else!"

"But I want it! Give it to me!" It was nothing less of an order, and he gave it to her.

A friend witnessing the entire scene decided to cash on the event.

"Dude, give something to me too!"

He was met with two pairs of angry eyes and was promptly rewarded with a pile of dusty text books.

She still had the jacket with her, and used it like a safety blanket. However, like a bitchy wife getting a divorce and baying over her husbands property, she decided not to part with it.

Instead she brought him a shirt - A nice one, I should admit, and threw in a watch that was gifted to her by someone; a watch she did not care for much.

" Now I am even." She sighed maliciously, and promptly sent off everything to him. Ever the master surgeon in cutting off relationships, she called him to inform him that a parcel is on its way - and once it reaches its destination, there would be no more him as far as she is concerned.

However, the parcel got lost in the floods. They talked through the tempestuous periods, about the parcel, that lost package the only link in keeping them in each others life. Slowly, the winds cleared. They started talking again, sharing again.

The parcel was never mentioned - except in her offbeat prayers, where she thanked the rains for flooding it away.

Advance Notice

My friends, when and if I die
Be it from accidents or diseases, or self decided
I would request you to honour my decision
The same way you honour me now.

Do not grieve for me, or think that you could have done something.
You are important, but not that much
You are wise, but not to that extent
You can do things, but not all of them.
Don't be selfish, its my life.

Instead, pour out shots of tequila as potent as my zest for life
Generous quantities of red wine with the intense colour of my thoughts
Share many a story about me around a warm winter fire.

How, I made you laugh and cry
Made you angry and was your sedative
How I stood for truth and lied so easily-
Chew on them, along with some of my favourite food.

My friends, if I ever make a sudden journey,
Do not feel betrayed, do not fret
Even if it a surprise
For both me and you
Or something carefully planned by the scatterbrain me.

Feel happy for me, respect my choice
Live life the way I wanted to live
Making mistakes, happy, passionate
Enjoying long walks, good songs and dancing all night

Divide my books and junk ornaments
Collection of bags and curious dolls
Pick and choose; take everything between yourselves
Do drop in at my parent's home in blue moon nights.

Live your life such that
I can leave mine without guilty
Safe in the knowledge
Of you taking care of yourself and my loved ones.

Amen.


A junior of mine committed suicide. It started me thinking on how I would want my friends to live and feel if I were to die - from freak accidents, diseases or a suicide. Not that I'm planning to step onto the train - I plan to live life fully and for a long time. So rest assured.

But if I were to die in an accident, then this is what I would expect my friends to do...

Daily brushes with death

I narrowly missed being killed yesterday.

Actually, this was the first sentence that came to my head the moment after my escape. No thank you Gods. No I want to call my parents. Not even a scream, not a flicker in the eye to indicate that I just escaped from death.

Neither did the five strangers with me give it a thought. I was perched on the side of the front seat, sharing it with the auto driver and another passenger. He was going pretty fast and braked suddenly, and I who was in the process of trying to get a better grip on my belongings and the auto was suddenly thrown out down to the wheels of a speeding bus.

Not quite. My reflexes saved me, and by some miracle, I managed to hold on to my bags.
And this was nothing to go hoo-ha about. Hundreds of people travel the way I did everyday in Kolkata. It is faster than a cycle rickshaw, cheaper than a cab and more comfortable than boarding a bus.

TV channels thrive on thrills and adventures. They delight in titillating our pituitary glands with action packed movies ( where almost all stunts are performed by body doubles and always under controlled conditions ) and reality game shows ( where a fully equipped medical team stays just out of the camera frame to come to your rescue - except when you get hyper and go and harass a stingray.

But in real life, millions of people take a risk with their life, where no cameras are involved. The young women who walk home through dark neighborhoods, the servant girls with rapidly blooming bosoms and torn clothes are never featured in any show and the threats to their bodies never highlighted. The middle aged women wearing a saree ( as their families expect them to) with reflexes worn down by age and fatigue, perched on a square inch of space which can barely accommodate their well endowed bodies...

When life calls out to us, we are too busy to pry our eyes off from the various monitors and look at her.

PS: Dcruz, it will take me sometime to do full justice to your tag.. but write I will.. about my childhood.

Time to be cruel

Some days earlier, I took a decision to be more selfish and cruel. Acting upon the decision; I will never again - I know; NEVER is a pretty strong word to use, but I am 100% sure that I will not be doing any of these ever.

a. Split costs with / lend money to Wally ( its a pseudonym; ref Dilbert) who always forgets when I made the payments, and whenever I ask for his share, talk vaguely about money/favors that I owe him. I end up without my cash and with an unfounded guilty complex.

b. Stay in my crap pot PG because ( and on;y because the house owner - who let out her ground floor to my landlady - considers me like her own daughter and specifically asks me to stay on in that place; forfeiting my privacy and HRA.

c. Attend to calls which is nothing less or more than eating up my time and which leaves me feeling useless and make me end up resenting a lot of things.

d. Spend money when I don't want to for the sake of it; on people whom I don't want to for the sake of it.

c. Ever tell Wally any of my personal stuff. ( yeah, I'm pretty mad at Wally now)

e. Let personal relationships come into the way of my work.

Screw you guys, I'm going home! ( originally attributed to Eric C.)

Prayer to Catbert

Oh Lord almighty Catbert, evil and HR incarnate, help me to manipulate my line humans
When they come to me and complain, let me always be able to deflect the blame onto other lesser mortals

Let me be able to get the better of mediocre services provided by vendors common to all employees by saying "I am from HR" in an ominous voice

Let me be assigned to the hardworking teams, so that I too will get the glory when they do some work, and will not be affected when those morons fail

Let me be reaping the rewards, and never have to sit for any appraisals ( except to kill them slowly)

Amen.

A blog is a blog is a blog...

But still, a name does amount to something.

Barnyarn. Yup, this would be a collection of stories. And they may include many animals. Or people exhibiting animal traits.

Howdy Neighbor! This is what Cartman has to say about South Park. But he himself is anything but a howdy neighbour chap.

So, next post after 3 days.

Prologue

Yes, this is a definite southpark hangover.

Some basic guidelines I would follow here:

Blog every 3rd day. My life is not that boring to not blog, and it is not that exciting to blog daily.

Be irreverent. I take things too seriously, giving myself cardiac arrests over the floatsam and jetsam of life.

Be cruel. If I am not cruel to others, I often end up being cruel to myself. There is not enough me for myself and the whole world.