Woof Woof! I'm Snowie - Mr. India 2008 !
Sadly, another doggie was not lucky enough to pose for a photo. My best friend AP's new born pomeranian pup, Teeni, died a few days ago due to some infections. But her brother, Tiny, is still alive. Let's hope he grows up to be a cute 'n' healthy pup...
jan.
Venue: Mom's office.
My blog turned an year old yesterday.
Well, I must confess, when a friend introduced me to Blogger an year ago, I had rolled my eyes, thinking it must be just another 'public venting machine' for guys who stuck to their computers like permamanent glue. It was for people who'd suffered heartaches, bad hair days, bad marks, broken fingernails, nerdy friends or were unlucky enough to see Khali in person. In short, it was the favourite pastime for all the vela people in the world....
But now, an year later, I give myself THREE SLAPS for saying that (plus some more on behalf of my blogger pals, who are in no way eccentric!).
And even though my hands are busy nursing my red cheek, I type with my elboes to say that if Blogger were a human being, he/she (whichever gender it prefers) would be my best friend. I would save a seat for her everyday in the bus, share my lunch with her during recess, do all her homework (Sanskrit included), share all my secrets with her, and giggle at stupid jokes till we drove the teachers crazy.
Thanks Blogger. I kicked aside the TV to make blogging my fav hobby. And yes, I promise to be a better bloggie in the years to come...
searching for b'day candles,
jan
I gave an online IQ test today.
Ok. So I gave thousands of IQ tests today. And got a different score each time. I started off with 80 (am i the inhabitant of a madhouse?), then got 115 (im such a dork), then 134 (not bad...), then 148 (did somebody hack my account or what?), and suddenly, I got 160 (whoa!!!!).
So I concluded my IQ changes with my mood. With my clothes. And with what I ate for breakfast....
I may not know what my IQ exactly is, but I'm sure of the following things. Pakka.
1) I'm as stupid as the participants on 'Main Paanchvi Paas Se Tez Hun'.
3) I'm so dumb I moved on to point (3) before writing point (2).
4) I'm smarter than Mr.Bean, Charlie Chaplin, Govinda, Paris Hilton and other you-know-whos.
5) I'm as smart as the model who got 5/100 in a history test. Extra marks for good handwriting.
6) I don't stare at a bottle of orange juice just because it says "Concentrate".
7) Scientists say humans use just 10% of their brain. I can prove them wrong. I use just 8%.
8) I totally believe that men are from Mars and women are from Venus. And that they are on an exchange programme.
9) Still, I'm not as bad as my neighbour who took his computer to the doctor when it had a virus attack.
10) Till today, I thought 'Stardust' is an astronomy magazine. Really.
Miss-obsessed-with-my-IQ.
(P.S. Jus kiddin'. No inferiority complex.)
People or things that I love the most, in order of how much I love them (conditions apply. Of course.) :
1) PUPPIES
2) Puppies
3) Puppies (I hate it when they bark, though)
4) Chocolates (I hate 5 Star and dark chocolates)
5) Mum and Dad (They'll be automatically awarded the first position if/when they buy me a CD of Bhool Bhulaiya, which I desperately wanna watch)
6) Blogger
7) Google
8) Orkut
9) Pals at school (pals only. NOT school.)
10) Spiderman
11) JK Rowling (You dropped down to 11 when you killed Voldy)
12) The Radio ( only when those RJs keep quiet)
101) Mahatma Gandhi
10,001) Shah Rukh Khan
10,00,00,001) My English Teacher
10,00,00,00,003) The guy in the bus who calls me a moti (liar!!)
-the couch potato aka jan.
(P.S. Bad news. All of you are tagged. Now, like it or not, you MUST write about the people or things you love the most. And let's see where I feature in it! :D )
I am a very unlucky kid. Who in the whole wide world has an exam on the first day of his/her summer vacations??
Well, the exam in question was the second round of the National Talent Search Exam. The examination centre was miles away in midtown Delhi, so we had to leave at 6 in the morning. And a few minutes later, it started drizzling....
There was hardly any traffic, and the roads seemed huge and empty. Everything was so wet and clean. There was some beautiful music playing on the radio, and the pitter patter of rain added to the scene. My nervousness about the exam just got blown away with the cool wind.
There is something so peaceful about such mornings. We hear people complaining about the environment in Delhi everyday, but I guess they've never travelled during the best time of the day!
We reached the centre more than an hour before the exam. It was a pretty decent Government school, surrounded by huge white walls and lots of greenery. Also, there were the government quarters nearby. A man was walking his cute pomeranian, that kept on running away from him, and barked for no apparent reason. Later though, we realized it was this silly pussy that had infuriated him!
I also met an old classmate who had left school a few years ago, and was thought to be Einstein-Part 2. And my exam went off ok-ok too, as I'd expected. Even if I don't qualify, I know the experience has been totally worth the hard work....
I wanted to tell you about the coaching classes I'd attended for this exam. We used to stay back at school long after everybody left, and studied trigonometry and electronic configuration (nonchalantly, obviously), and left only when it got dark. Many times, I was all alone in the empty building, and you could imagine how terrifying that was!!
Well, now at present, I'm looking forward to a pleasant vacation. And I guess my hopes end with this huge pile of holiday homework staring back at me....
ciao!
jan
Today was the fourth day of the new session at school. We have ten senseless subjects, and ten equally senseless teachers. Our sanskrit teacher seems to be the reincarnation of some great saint, cuz she just can't stop preaching goodness, kindess, truthfullness etc. to her rather 'evil' class. Another teacher resembles a football with legs. The science teacher has an obsession with the letter 'S', and does more hissing than teaching. Another teacher created a record by wearing the same clothes to class for four consecutive days. But yes, all of them are angels as compared to the awful lot we got last year....
My exam results were declared a few days earlier, and considering I'm still alive and kicking, you can safely assume they weren't that bad. Actually, they weren't bad at all.
So now, I have one full week of lazy holidays till the new session begins. Funny, but just when we're all excited to enter our new class, the creepy teachers give us these free tickets for some vacation to Timbuktu. But when we're dying to revise our syllabus before the exams, a holiday becomes a faraway fantasy. It's almost like offering a free air conditioned room in the winters.
In these hols, my timetable usually consists of munching Lays chips, sleeping for 10 hours, watching TV, gulping down bottles of Coca Cola, feasting on tikki burgers, french fries and ice cream. No wonder people say I've robbed a McDonald's outlet. But it's not as if I eat cuz I want to eat. I just eat to pass time. And cuz it gives me an excuse to sleep, and digest whatever I've wolfed down.
Recently, mum commented I was transforming into some human Garfield. She joked I was some sleeping beauty, who wants to be caged in a castle. (To give you a clear picture of what followed, I would advise you to watch episode 35091 of any of Ekta Kapoor's drama-filled saas-bahu soaps; but just replace the tearful bahu with a sweet, innocent looking kiddo of 13.) At the end of the argument, mum won. Obviously. It's like a nerd trying to defeat Mike Tyson at his own game. So mum dragged me off to go walking, the first step to weight loss, with her.
Walking at eight in the night with crickets adding to the background score might sound pleasant. Very pleasant. But wait. It's also the time the angry office goers return home racing in their Honda City's, and televisions are set at full volume, so much so that poor pedestrians in the middle of the streets can hear Rakhi Sawant's comments on losing Nach Baliye and Dhoni underplaying his recent victory on CNN IBN. Eight in the night is also the time when the vegetable and fruit vendors arrive with their loaded carts, and aunties are burdened with the task of deciding what curry they would prepare for dinner that night. So a peaceful road adorned with flickering streetlights eventually turns into the most happening place in the colony, and walking, the best sport in the world (not that I know many). As we walked, I chatted a lot with mum too, filling her on the latest news from school, and that Kareena Kapoor was actually lighter than me.
Apart from walking, I caught up on some reading too. Well, I'm not the one who crosses the road with her nose buried in a hard bound book and causes a traffic jam, but on the other hand, I don't need an inauguration ceremony when I'm entering a bookstore too. I just read whatever I can find, mostly judging a book by its cover illustrations and other components of the jacket. A good book, for me, refers to anything that can entertain me while nothing's good on MTV. I just read Chetan Bhagat's books-'One night at the Call Centre' and 'Five Point Someone'- and found the latter incredibly boring. I also read 'Interpreter of Maladies', which happily accompanies mum these days to work in her giant office bag , and decided that a short story wasn't my cup of tea.
Well, I've updated you about my activities in the past week, and am eagerly looking forward to my first day in class 9. But now, I gotta go. The pizza (with extra cheese) delivery man just arrived.
I've always been one of those kids who hide in their mum's dupatta whenever the doorbell rings on Holi, when enthusiastic kids half my height wait eagerly to test their new pichkaris, with me as guinea pig.
I've never been able to understand the purpose behind discolouring beautiful people and transforming them into cartoon characters. Well, my experiences with Holi have always been bad. If not bad bad, they've been humiliating for me, and humourous for most others. And how can I forget that fateful Holi three years ago, a few days before I entered class 6th....
I was merrily hopping to the market, after making sure the coast was clear and not a single pichkari with world destroying capabilities was within the radius of 10 metres. But how was I to know there was an evil plan being hatched on the roof? The next moment, I stood drenched in the red and watery contents of a huge balti, with evil laughs resounding in my ears....
The same day, our over-enthusiastic neighbour dabbed a suspicious-looking blue powder all over my face. Although it washed off, it left me itching all day long, and the skin around my right eye turned an ugly blue-black. I tell you, never trust your neighbour. Especially on Holi.
So when I attended my first day of class 6th, not only were my arms and legs dyed red, I had a huge black patch around my eye. One kid actually had the cheek to ask whether I had gone boxing with my ferocious SST teacher, and she had boxed my eye or something...
Naturally, I'd come to dread Holi, and became a patient of Holiphobia. I migrated from behind the curtains and started hiding under the bed. I would hate the sound of Amitabh Bacchan stretching his vocal chords on Rang Barse. I would wear brand new clothes and think this would sensitize people not to spoil the attire of a poor ol' soul. I was even honoured with the distinction of being the one and only Delhite who hated Holi. (Sheesh, atleast I was honoured with something!)
But this Holi, fate had other plans. I was to be pushed out of the house by my mum and told not to return until every toenail looked colourful. My mum, the same mum, who had once guarded me against all Holi players, said this to me. Dad added fuel to the fire, saying he'd call an ambulance in advance, lest I came back with my mouth filled with toxic colours or something. I felt betrayed. And hurt.
But not wanting to argue, I proceeded cautiously down the road with a packet of herbal colours. I had oiled my hair nicely, so much so my mum could have cooked aloo paranthas with the oil dripping from it. I met my friends from school at the gate, who seemed to have bathed in a rainbow, and hesitantly offered my cheek for a dab of colour. I checked if they too used herbal colours, and constantly reminded them to stop reaching for my eyes, as colours can actually make a person blind. As time passed, I became used to balloons suddenly exploding in my hair and powder going into my mouth and eyes. (Don't worry, nothing happened. I can still see the monitor and the keyboard.) And I hate to admit this, but I soon began to enjoy myself and became a part of all the craziness....
You wouldn't believe this, but I was totally drenched and hardly recognizable. Even my teeth were reddish in colour. I bet I resembled those maths teachers at school, who dabbed lipstick in a hurry during the recess, and came to class with red lipstick sticking to their teeth. When I reached home, my mum screamed and called my dad, claiming there was a hooligan at the door. It took an entire 10 minutes to persuade her that it was me, her lovable daughter, to gain an entry into the house. Then began the rigorous task of removing the colours in the washroom. I scrubbed myself with a pumice stone, till the time my skin threatened to peel off. But I came out with no significant improvement, and reminiscent of that 'fateful' Holi three years ago....
I would love to show you guys my picture and make you understand the severity of my problem, but I don't want an increase in the number of heart patients in our already over-burdened hospitals.
I was later told by my dear friend that the colours she used were 20% stronger and long lasting, to retain the after effects of Holi for a long time. To add to my troubles, my exam results are to be declared the day after tomorrow, and I don't want nasty teachers laughing and scolding me simultaneously. Worse, what if they start giving me cosmetic tips in front of the entire class? Or what if the kindergarden kids start laughing at me?
Oh no, oh no....God, I know Holi goes on for days in heaven, but pleaseeee, step down to earth and HELP ME OUT!
in great trauma,
jan
Here are a few notes I made while studying for my History exam...
Mangal Pandey : The somehow-related, long lost ancestor of my music teacher Mr.Pandey and was famous for his moustache.
General Dyer : Manufacturers of generally used hair dyes.
Lal, Bal and Pal : Red haired patriots.
Gandhiji : A great, idealistic man who changed Munnabhai's life.
Nehru : Rahul Gandhi's great granddad.
The Iron man of India : Refers to a man so strong that bullets bounced off his chest.
The Non-cooperation Movement : Students of schools refuse to cooperate with teachers, by submitting the homework in 'stages'.
Congress Session at Calcutta in 1906 : Demand for Swaraj or self-government, a movement led by student leaders for participation in the running of the school.
Swadeshi and boycott movements : Bonfires of naughtiness that ignited the hearts of the ruling chemistry teachers.
Partition of Bengal, 1905 : The disintegration of a united class, on the basis of the language chosen, i.e. Hindi or Sanskrit.
Imerial Dubar, 1911 : Shifting of the capital of the naughtiest kids in school, from middle to high school.
Morley-Minto reforms: the new mint-flavoured mouth freshner.
PHEW....History is soooo 'relevant'!
A bouquet of fragrant roses,
Tickling your nose.
Heart-warming cards,
And shouts of joy.
Boxes of heart shaped chocolates,
Coated with love.
Red dresses, blushing cheeks
And pearly-white smiles.
Happy ladies, kids and lads,
Thus begin excited young lives.
The sun smiles through the window.
Surprise! It's a sunny morn
On a winter day.
The garden blooms,
The puddles shine.
The trees sway,
And flowers glow.
Oh why does it rain roses,
Halfway thru' February?
Is it 'cuz....
It's V-Day, so very early?
Well, being just a young teen, V-Day does not hold much significance for me....or maybe, it does!
It's a festival celebrating love, right? So don't I love my mom, my dad, my friends, and the puppies in my society?
So yea, let's all celebrate the fesival of love, just as enthusiastically as we celebrate the festival of lights, and the festival of colours, and teach each other to love, and destroy all differences that build up a wall of hatred between us.
After all, somebody once said,there are many in the world who die due to starvation, and hundreds due to thirst. But there are many more who die due to the scarcity of love and kindness........
jan
Winners are part of a team,
Losers are apart from a team.
Winners have dreams,
Losers have schemes.
Winners see the gain,
Losers see the pain.
Winners always have a programmme,
Losers always have an excuse.
Winners make commitments,
Losers make promises.
Winners say, "I must do something."
Losers say, "Something must be done."
Winners stand firm on values but compromise on petty things,
Losers stand firm on petty things but compromise on value.
Winners make it happen,
Losers let it happen.
Winners use hard arguements but soft words,
Losers use soft arguements but hard words.
The winner says, "It may be difficult, but it's possible."
The loser say, "It may be possible, but it's difficult."
Winners always seek an answer for every problem,
Losers always seek a problem to every answer.
Winners say, "Let me do it for you."
Losers say, "That's not my job."
When a winner makes a mistake, he says,
"I was wrong."
When a loser makes a mistake, he says,
"It wasn't my fault."
Whether you succeed or fail, if you just fit the above description, then you surely are a winner in the game called life....
filled with optimism and looking forward to new opportunities,
u-no-hu
"बस चंद कदम,
बस चंद कदम,
बस चंद कदम की बात है....
हर तरफ उजाला फैल गया,
बस कहीं-कहीं अब रात है...
- जावेद अख्तर
I was watching the Lead India finals a few days ago, a whiff of fresh air after watching those idotic saas-bahu soaps and some 'unrealistic' reality shows.
Although I liked the authenticity of the program, there were many things I'd critisize as well:
Firstly, the unfair elimination of all the true leaders, like Dipayan Dey and Sanjiv Kaura, my personal favourites, sucked away all interest I had since the first episode.
Secondly, the insincerity in the speeches of the finalists was slowly begginning to show through. They aimed only at impressing the jury, who had their own personal favourites.
Third, I detested the entire system of public voting, introduced mainly for increasing TRP's.
After occupying entire first pages of the TOI for several days, Lead India did not seem to have achieved what it claimed it could. I yawned several times as the finalists struggled to get through their learnt-by-heart speeches- all to impress the 'distinguished' jury out there.
Lastly, it was as they say.... empty vessels makes more noise....
I love pictures. I love to see my parents, captured in marriages, outings, hanging around with friends, and mostly, when they were in school. (I recently discovered that I look much like my mum used to when she was young.)
I love to see old, faraway relatives, whom I've never met, smiling, or surprised faces, and ask about them. And yeah, I love to make fun of those huge, horn-rimmed spectacles and bell-bottoms Dad used to wear in the seventies- fashion in those days!!
And I love my class photographs too........
Our school is hexagonal in shape. Everything, from classrooms, washrooms and assembly grounds, is huge and six-sided. So yesterday, after attempting a rather confused English Unit Test, we were taken along to a corner of the hexagon a.k.a. the assembly ground for a class photograph. I was pretty excited, since I was not a part of the class that smiles at me from the frame on my desk, due to my absence last year on the photo day.
During the photo session, there were chairs in the first row, chairs over tables in the second row, chairs over two tables in the third, and so on.The first row belonged to the shorties (that includes me, of course), and we were supposed to sit like 'nice ladies' with a smile plastered onto our faces. Behind our backs, the naughty ol' boys showed off some of their herogiri. So, the photographer said, "You want your grandchildren to see you like that, mahboy?" and peace prevailed.....
Afterwards, my friends and I posed for an informal photo, arms over shoulders and all, 'cuz next year, our class would be shuffled and we'd pose with complete strangers. :( :(
I love class photos. They remind you of old times, old friends, and old teachers, who fade away into the distance, only to come back again. They pull you into the past, and you can actually hear ABC's being recited in the background. You can spot childish grins, and crying kids, falling down, getting hurt, and up and about again. And most of all, they show a person very different from what you are today- carefree, kiddish, cute, and slightly stupid too!
Good memories. Good photos. Sigh, I have loads of them registered in my brain, and there's space for lots more.......
in a honey-sweet mood,
jan
Sigh! I can’t believe 2008 has already arrived.
2007 had been a good year, and I expected a nice, cozy winter.
But somehow, this Christmas wasn’t as happy as I had wanted it to be….
On the 22nd of December, my paternal grandfather passed away after struggling with cancer. We left for Chennai, our hometown, by the first flight the same day to attend his last rites.
A day after we arrived, my maternal grandmother, with whom I was staying, felt a little ill, but carried on with her work as usual. But the next day, she felt unusually breathless and my mother and I rushed her to the nearest hospital. There, she died of a sudden heart attack and respiratory failure...
My nani was a lady with a heart of gold. She loved all her grandchildren tremendously. She never hugged us to say how much she cared, but did it all through her actions, and never tried to impose her love on us.
Whenever she came to Delhi to stay with me, she brought loads of goodies, the tastes of which still linger in my mouth. Even in a completely new atmosphere, she adjusted so easily, as if she’d been living in Delhi all her life!
When she went back a month later, I felt hopelessly lonely, and yearned to find the same, grizzled ol’ lady opening the door as I came back home from school. She was a quiet person whose presence was never even felt, but her absence had created a huge vacuum in the house, and now, in my heart too….
I would forever remember the times I spent with her - the family trips to Haridwar, her delicacies, her one-toothed smile, her habit of asking a question again and again until she got only a ‘yes’ for an answer, the silent spectator at my karate classes, her habit of dabbing Ponds powder all over her face, and of course, the whiff of Tamil Nadu on her saree.
Nani, I thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me, and for the love you bestowed on us. I pray that you will rest peacefully, in heaven....
On the ninth of November, while Diwali celebrations were in full swing, my mind decided to plunge into an ocean of neon light darkness - I bought tickets to SAAWARIYA.
Here's a glance at my mental status as I struggled through three hours of endless night, thirsting for sunlight at the end of the tunnel......
As the reel begins to roll, we're ceremoniously introduced to Bhansalipur, where roads lead nowhere, and the Eiffel tower stands next to the Big Ben.Then, there's a market place right next to a Venice-style lake, and people (it's a women dominated society and our hero is the only male visible) use the London bridge to ask for a cup of dahi next door.Sheesh! Who the heck would like to live here, even if it's "The City of Dreams"?!
Bhansali probably took himself too seriously. Except the music, he goofs up almost everywhere. Even his actress, gigglaciously pretty, shatters the heart-wrenching silence of judaai scenes by breaking into a series of irritating, ear-splitting giggles, or with stupidiotic dialogues like,"Ok, Bye!".
Next, I seriously have a complaint against this extravagant use of neon lights.Oh mannn, the entire movie was shot in the night!! Is this Antarctica or something, where we have 6 months day and 6 months night??!!!
Well, probably since it was so 'dark', Saawariyaa never saw light at the box office.
I still experience terrifying Saawariyaa nightmares.
Hoping u were spared,
jan
Heylo!
Today, I wish to write about books.Yeah, books! OK, i know most of u wouldn't read the rest of it, but still, for the sake of the few booklovers still left......
Books.Books in the library, books on the table, books on the shelf, books in the kitchen, and mags in the toilet too! I'm drowned in an ocean of books, but which rescue boat should i choose? should it be a dickens, an Isaac Asimov or a Saki, while in the bookstore?
u might ask inky-pinky and ponky for help, or might as well refer to my guide of books.
Here it goes.....
1) The title of the book shouldn't go over your head.Like...."My name is red"!?!
2) The picture of the author should be printed on the cover. If he frowns too much, smiles awkwardly, or seems to pose especially for the picture, then put the book back to where it belongs, and hope that it stays there for long.
3) The cover should not have confusing illustrations. For example, if the title is, say, "Tragedy", then the girl on the cover should stop showing off all her pearly whites.
4) The print in the book shouldn't seem like a thousand hundred black ants scrawling all over u.
5) Read the first few pages.If u manage to stay awake, then move on to the next step.
6) If the price is a number u know existed in the number system, then go on, zip open your pockets and buy the book!!
(Still, if my advice doesn't work, and u begin hating the book, then persuade ur best friend that it's the nicest book uv ever read, deserves a Sahitya Akademi,a Nobel prize, a Booker, and blah blah blah, until she snatches it away from u, and u strike a fair deal with her Ruskin Bond. ;) )
ta-ta,
jan
Badminton WAS my fav sport (perhaps cuz it's the only game I can play decently!). And today, I managed to get a few nice shots during the recess, considering I was touching the racket after 6 whole years!
That's when my 6-foot-sth friend decided to prove herself world champion.
MG - Common, Jan, beating u is my left hand's game! (roughly translated from hindi)
Me- (rather sarcastically) Hey Bhaggu! Cummon then, let's play!
(Then began the most un-ladylike game of badminton u'd have ever seen, with both players sweating it out like in the WWE championships.)
And then,
The lengendary player (she, I mean) hit the cock, and we all strained our necks to have a good look at the to-be sixer.
But it was not meant to be! The cock got stuck in a tree!
Then my friend thought it most appropriate to throw the racket and get a good shot at the cock, which refused to come down, like some old, fussy cat. The small group of onlookers, too, followed their leader and started throwing their military equipments at the tree, trying to attack the cock.
And unfortunately, MG's racket too, got stuck there!!
Wonderful!!
The child (to whom the racket belonged, started crying). My friend and I were given loads of advice from the smart li'l onlookers.
Then, I thought, we coundn't just stand there like guilty thiefs! I ran and got hold of the guard, who picked up the ladder (in the process knocking me down with its end), and brought down the cock and its partner.
He was cheered by the crowd, and became an instant hero.The kiddo was happy again, and walked off feeling embarrassed by all this unwanted publicity.
Break was over and we reached class just in time to see the strictest teacher entering our class......
Totally, absolutely, relieved and shocked at the same time,
jan
(P.S. Things to do this weekend:
1. Stop trying to push open locked doors.
2. Prepare a draft on "Building a safer environment".
3. Brush up my G.K.
4. Learn some sudoku solving techniques from pops.
5. Measure my height. )
Hey everybody!!!
I'm back!
Yea, people might say I disappeared from the virtual world, neglecting my li'l blog, chatting friends, google, et all- but no, I'm not one to give up so easily.I'm back doing what I love most-blogging, blogging and blogging!!!
I simply love the touch of the keyboard, the sound of the keys, the cute mouse and err...the ugly monitor as well!
Well, my exams have finished and not much of an 'ooooohh-aaaaah' result, but still, I'm satisfied.
But no, it's not I-Day for me yet.....I've got that NTS Exam next month, and having joined late, I've got lots to do!
Holidays have started, but there are more sighs then yays.I've got Aryabhatta classes in the morning, music class in the evening, and a strict diet consisting of nothing but apples and apple juices (Mom thinks I'm growing fat around the waist.Me, skinny ol' me, FAT??!!).
Hey MOM! When did we return to the aadi vasi ages, huh??
And tomorrow onwards, it's those NTSE classes at 8 in school! PHEW!It's like the old school routine again!
Still, there's some good news.The Durga puja celebrations are about to start in our colony, and I simply luuuuuuuuuuuv hanging out there in the pundals with friends.I'll give a performance with my music sir (who would sing), and I'm really looking forward to it!
The last time I performed, the people loved it! So now, there are huge expectations builing up!
But damn it! I can't participiate in the competitions 'cuz the lazy, pot-bellied uncles with pan stained mouths, broken shirt buttons and fat wives believe there was something called a LAST DATE! And when was that they don't remember!Stupid authorities!
Anyway, have I ever told u about my music sir? hmm.....really hard to describe.
Talkative (speaks Benglinglish), fat(err...resembles Adnan Sami), and......."Has an ocean of knowledge about the universal language spoken even by aliens on planet 0023454 that has no atmosphere, and can be easily compared to math-e-matics, the science of practice and patience and humour that is a strategy practised by a species called the backbencher that was so adorably a part of my be-u-thi-full(the French way) childhood that is a state of human....." and so on.In simpler words, he believes he's a talented musician.
And yea, I make an excuse to have some water, and save myself from the torture of his 'beautiful' speeches.
buh-bye!
jan
Guess what?
I've got an English exam the day after tomorrow, and I'm here, blogging away to glory!
Well, isn't blogging english?
I can just pray to God that the English teacher, Mrs.M, decides to shed off some of her kanjoosi, when it comes to giving marks, and all of us walk away with laddoos (no, I don't mean zeroes, but the 'actual' laddoos).
By the way, my three fav subjects just happen to be - Science :), Maths :)) and English :))).
jan
apun ko to angrezi ka bukhar chad gaya re!!! ;)
Old teachers came walking past
Flooding mah mind with memories old,
A pat on the back, expression aghast,
At how fast I had grown.
They remebered the tomboy,
And huge eyes that flooded everytime
Somebody punched her nose.
Said I , embarrased, "Ma'am, but that was ages ago!!".
She cried for candy,
And for mummy
Sometimes for Daddy too.
"But sweet was she,
For, she was taught by me!! ;)".
She danced on Christmas
And Diwali too.
But no Rakhies for her,
For no brother had she.
Then came a time when her tooth broke.
Red stained her pink cheeks, she looked absurd;
Said she, "I is brave"
And still, paused to cry after every word!!
Then they saw her go
An unfinished product, one would say,
But of one thing, they were sure,
They'd taught her to find her own way.
Years later they met her
Chattering about.
One dear li'l lady said,
"That girl, do u see?
I'd marked her Mfd."
I just tried my hand at poetry, I know its dumb, but still, atleast my first attempt at writing some 'serious poetry' is related to teachers!
To conclude,
Somebody once said,
"A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others. "
ciao!
jan
Ok, I'm a li'l late for this post, but still...
August 5th was Friendship Day, or was it 'Band and Bracelet Day'? Well, I'd prefer the second one, though.
I've always been 'against' this so called ritual of gifting friendship bands to friends. It just doesn't make sense.
I feel a friend is worth not just a few 10 rupees.....she's invaluable!
I had vowed I wouldn't waste money this year; save it instead for treats for buddies later on.
But why be the odd one out? So in the end, not unlike last year and all the years before that, I managed to persuade mum to buy some nice bracelets.
I myself received quite a few gifts, and that made me feel very happy (although I went around bleating all this is nonsense!).
I got a note in my diary, the first ever in my life, for not having brought my GK book. The teacher thought I hadn't 'brought', but actually, I hadn't even 'bought' the silly book (I still haven't!).
And yeah, Gran went back to Chennai. Although I'm feeling really, really, really bad, I'm also glad she's happy back there.
I somehow feel Gran'll never come to like Delhi.Nothing's as cozy as one's own home, right? Anyway, I think I gotta get used to the old routine again.Sigh...
jan
(P.S.Preparations are in full swing for I-Day!!)
It seems this blog's traffic is inversely proportional to the Delhi traffic! ;) ;)
If this continues, the traffic policeman(yea, me!) may soon become jobless......
So c'mmon guys, PUHLEEZ leave some comments. And I'd make sure it rains comments for your blog!!
buh-bye,
jan
Yesterday, after searching for hours, I got the results of the written prelims of WIZTEAM 2007. As I clutched the phone so that it almost broke, the guy on the other side confirmed that all of us in the wizteam had qualified to the second round, i.e. the interview round.
You could imagine how excited I was. I kept on jumping about and adding witty, humourous phrases to my introduction. Of course, it had to be no less than PERFECT! Last year, during the city finals I ended up in the top five. Rarely does anybody get a second chance, so this time, I wanted to give it my best shot.
However, the rain god had other plans. He probably thought it was the perfect day to have a nice bath. He forgot to turn off the shower, though.
Although it rained like cats and dogs, I managed to carry my HUGE Yamaha to school, only to find out at the entrance itself that the competition had been called off! You can imagine how shocked I was.
But when the rain stopped at last, they still refused to let us go. And as my teacher lectured me on how to take disappointments lightly, I stared at an earthworm lousily making its way up the ramp. That was exactly what I did throughout the day, with not a single book in hand……..
Praying for sunny days ahead,
jan
