I heart me .. forever

"BaseBand!" , D said beaming, raising an eyebrow with both his hands clenched in a thumbs up! Typical in a non- exhausting way! My lips curled into a grin and I responded with the ditto enthusiasm, "WHaT???"
((Flashback: 7th period - Electronics class.. I am sitting on the 2nd bench scribbling down notes using a ball point pen (which btw makes my book look like a spider web). Sir's voice rolls off and gets registered at some corner of my mind..MY mind's preoccupied with well "How NOT to make the notebook look like a doctor's prescription" . "So the next type of communication...one way.. two way... baseband..."  My ears jolt up and I look around to find people what-what-ing at the word. It's spelled and defined and I go back to switching OFF the right side of my brain.))
"Baseband Geet! Try remembering!" D said again, the smile still stuck to his face. "Oo! ooh! Are you thinking what I am thinking?" I asked him now, returning his thumbs up. I nudged Cherry sitting at my side and whispered " See, I think even he misheard baseband as lesbian!" She was snoozing heavily enough with her eyes open to respond to me. So I turned to D. He said, "Look at the definition! A low frequency signal produced by humans! And you are a living example! Increase your volume!" Alright! It was a "ooopsee I am way too out of the world" moment! I admit! My face convulsed into laughter gradually..  And yes, I am known for my sorrys and pardons and can-you-repeat-its (the partially deaf part) and "softest-soft-loud- louder" (the low volume part). People give up in exasperation either trying to convey their message or viceversa. So what image do I actually carry in others' minds? Apparently, self- obsessed happens to be my middle name (applause), so this question somewhat owned a birthright to pop into my mind. I shortlisted two cases which might not be entirely true..
Case 1: The partially deaf school captain, a little messy and super weird: She shrieks and flees at the sight of the volleyball coming up to her face at the court instead of receiving it. She constantly whines about getting a suntan. She detests screeching noises and people who scratch their heads unnecessarily and is known to make unique expressions.
Case 2: The dramaqueen! Cries like a snotty little toddler, can't stand up to herself or yell at someone. Bit of an attention seeker. Loves extending the eyeliner into wings and dresses subtly..
I AM who I Am ! I found myself repeating these words more than often this week. BUt now the question is not Who am I? Its What am I? Most people spend their lives behaving like hillbillies scorning others who think too much about themselves . When their friends drop a casual question before them like "Is my hair fine?" or "Do I look fat?" their ungracious no-one's-looking-at-you response is always followed by eyes rolls and impatient noises. But, they are the ones who are missing something crucial in life.. Themselves..
           It's not a nose that's always in the air, it's pride that constructs an enigma eventually. The reluctance to accept an opinion, the eagerness to make judgments.. So, you know WHAT you are? YOu are what you like being.. Embrace yourself, heartily appreciate the tiniest micromolecules of good things in you, scold yourself, make crazy deals with your heart, respect your own wishes and stand up to your own expectations. Because..... The only one who is always going to stand by your side throughout eternity is... you... 

Hare vs Tortoise - Final throttle ( M.Y version)

So, this time the race flag bore the letters - LIFE. The racetrack was a long treacherous one. It comprised of false traps, ditches, bogs and thorny bushes. The hare was determined not to fall asleep while the tortoise was,  well.... not determined about anything. Just go with the flow was his genuine motto. He made no extra efforts to visit the gym unlike the hare who thrived on a special diet and exercised his ass off.. So, again, they set foot on the threshold point, gave a crooked half grin to the ladies cheering and drooling over them and began at the trumpet of the elephant.

The hare began with a sprint on the initial straight track. But soon, thinking about his previous failures, his system started turning rampageous and he began running like he'd never run before. So, when the false trap hindered his way, he couldn't pause for a moment to think about getting rid of it and injured both his legs while jumping over the trap. Similarly, he did the same with the rest of the danger acquaintances. He blindly jumped into the ditch, caught a creeper and climbed his way out. The bog just sucked the hare in and it took 3 hours until he swam around the mud and somehow managed to pull himself out. Covered in mud, he just ran past the thorny bushes not even bothering to shred them away.

The tortoise began at a slow speed. He maintained his consistency of pace throughout.  The hard shell protected him from any injury but he didn't bother to unlock the false trap either. So, bouncing back and forth, he came out of it eventually. He crawled in the ditch, and crawled his way out without bothering to build a bridge. Turning his torso backwards, he swam across the sticky bog. When thorns pricked his paws he stopped by a clinic to remove it.

The hare, of course was the first one to reach. But few meters before the End line, he collapsed due to severe bleeding caused by the harsh traps and thorns. He was admitted in a hospital and was disqualified from the race. The tortoise managed to reach 8 hours later but by that time, nobody came to hand over the trophy as the jungle authorities went home, cursing the race and dreaming about the relishing supper their wives must have prepared by then.

So actually, both the hare and the tortoise couldn't succeed. In this race, pace had never really mattered. Smart thinking, patience and intelligence had mattered. While the hare ran without a break, eventually hurting himself, the tortoise kept strolling mechanically. Had the both of them really thought about finding alternatives to cross the notorious elements of the race, both would've saved time. So this actually classifies the people into two categories - The ones who strive and kill to reach the end but all their efforts are ultimately in vain and the ones who are too sluggish and yet move on consistently, achieving success too late when it has lost its value.

So, as you can see I cooked up this weird story. It was inspired by a small incident that happened yesterday. Mum insisted me to accompany her to the grocery store. On not finding the original keys to the scooty, she hurriedly picked the spare ones and went to the garage instead of searching for the old ones. Turning the key into the lock, she discovered that the lock couldn’t be opened easily by the spare key. So she lost her patience and told me to get the old ones itself. At that time, I refused to climb up the stairs and started making efforts to unlock the Scooty using the spare key itself. It got unlocked within 2 minutes, just as mum was about to leave for getting the old ones. So, I gave her a “ I told you so” grin, started preaching her about patience and stuff to which she retaliated mumbling something about us being a slowcoach. I told her that she was a person who finished a task perfectly on time per with imperfection but dad was a person who did stuff perfectly but at a snail pace. So somehow, I lie in between, faster than dad, calmer than mum. And in some way, they symbolize the hare and the tortoise of my story, not entirely but up to some level. I have loads of good things to learn from the way they both carry out their work. I hope I will. ;-) 

Monkey business

I am bloating by the hour and I swear I can feel it. When two steps and a whirl, make you pant like hell and send your heart racing, you are in big trouble! All I wanted was to immerse myself in the full speed rhythm  and shake a leg or two. But thanks to my excellent appetite that seems to have heightened across the borderline, I shove in way more calories than usual. And I can say, I've put up a few pounds that surely don't help when you wanna dance. This is super ironic since I do not possess a sweet tooth at all! Let alone a sweet tooth, I don't have a sweet nerve in my body! The sight of sugar induces nausea. Yet, I can manage to expand by eating oil lathered spicy curries and flat breads loaded with carbs. Gosh! Just thinking about it makes me gulp in shame.

It's not that I feel hungry continuously, nor it is that it's some random "boredom" munching! "You are a monkey!", says dad. A monkey eats for pleasure.. It never realizes when its capacity is off the line. It frantically risks its life unknowingly, in the process of running towards never-ending satisfaction. I pity myself on account of showing these signs of reverse evolution. It's like everything in my life has suddenly begun revolving around food. I daydream about sitting on a throne of a sliced bun, in a kingdom of gravy boats floating in schezwan rivers. The subjects in my "mirchi" kingdom present me with aloo parathas and chola baturas! In my kingdom, apples, oranges and sugary dishes are fed to livestock. So, you know, it clearly shows why it is an issue worth worrying!

One can't say I have a heavy set frame. But it's not slender either. So, my face is on the verge of getting all pudgy and pasty.. And the sweet little mrf tyres residing on my hip already unbalance my weight considerably , hindering my occasional little "boogie dances".But though it's high time I pay heed to mum's anxious remarks with regard to my blowup, I badly want some more monkey time! Whose gonna let me compete for Miss World  anyway? Lemme grab some delicacies instead!

Darkest HOur

Hot temper.. Is is always incorrect to flare up? Should you always deal with unjust situations staying tight lipped? Well, these are the so called "ideal human being" rules I had laid down for myself positively.. But then, a horrifyingly mean incident barged through my vexatious day,  making it even more unpleasant.. And now, I am typing this down in a state of pure hatred - a state which I have never been acquainted with.. 

  "We are getting late, all because you wanted to practice so long!", N said to me without a tinge of shame. I scowled at her words, gulping down the morsels of food mom was feeding me with her own hands. Even Mom felt worried that I was constantly put under so much pressure. It was me who had aided N during her crisis, agreeing to give her a lift. Instead of showing gratitude, she unabashedly picked faults and passed sly remarks subtly. Ignorance is bliss.. I must not lose my temper, I said to myself. 

Riding the scooty, we went until the next colony's gate, when a security officer started waving at me frantically. By the time I realized that I was being called for, the scooty had throttled up a little distance ahead which compelled me to take a U turn and go back.. "Don't you listen I calls when? You has no manners?" the ill tongued, uncivilized security officer burst out shaking his fist. I was truly alarmed. I gulped down the bile that rose in my throat and asked him " May I know why I have been stopped?"( You wanna speak your English Mr, illiterate? So can I!) His eyebrows rose " You questioning me? You will teach me my job, huh?" I lost my nerve. I repeatedly went on asking why I had been stopped to which he never bothered to reply and went on with a list of threats and spiteful insults. As I had oathed to be a little miss polite birdie, I started crying bitterly like a snotty baby. An aunty passing by (who is a friend of my mum's) came over and spoke in favor of the officer, to my astonishment. " He is a senior officer dear..He is just doing his job. You must cooperate" Job? Yelling at people for no fault of theirs? Finally, he pulled out a register noting down my name and address. That's when I learned what his job was. He had just been ordered to note down the names of all people passing through the gate that day. I was disgusted. What kind of a world was this? Where people use impolite language for no reason, treat every person as a criminal, where a little innocent girl is being yelled at unmercifully and no one volunteers to at least wipe her tears. When a woman like that chooses to speak in favor of an irrational ungracious man rather than consoling a weeping girl, why do we even expect men to respect us? 

When did we move on to the barbarian era that was scraped out of basic humanity? Where friends just have their valuable work done by you and throw you away later, like a piece of dog's bone..  "You shouldn't have back answered him dear.. It was your fault too.. We must respect elders.." N said making a "Mother Teresa" face, after I dropped her home.. I suppressed my shock and turned away without a word.. 

                The one who has no enemies has no character. It is rightly said, I realised... 

The butterscotch heart

When I write stuff without thinking, this happens... Here goes a poem..

The girl in black,
She tripped, she knew, in the corner
of her butterscotch heart,
that this fall would aid a rise,
A revolution, a success, a start

Is this right? Seemed least apt,
to falter for the better, since
When there are no break-evens,
the heart ain't going daft

Gathering it up, she unstrapped the glitch,
The glitter of the smokey tear bedimmed eyes,
evinced the faith in her butterscotch heart,
that she could climb the caramel ditch

The butterscotch heart shadowed the fear and doubt,
Drenching her in its divine sweetness,
Making her face the battle with an almond sword.
Giving the bitterness her best skilled shot

The girl in black had a butterscotch heart,
She despised the idea of freezing it,
Cold proclaimed war, warmth conveyed sacrifice,
Both had ways to part