Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Permit me to introduce myself.
My name, as with a number of other details about me, is of no immediate consequence. I am at present 21 years of age, 22 in a matter of days. At present, I have studied three and a half years in undergraduate institutions; nevertheless, I have just completed the second years of my BSc. I have extensive experience when it comes to writing, since at the tender age of eleven I was convinced that I was god’s gift to the literary word, and therefore, spent the subsequent ten years painfully extracting coherent sentences from the depths of my brain. Read the last sentence again, if you don’t believe me – painfully is the word, trust me on this.
I have, so far in my meander through life, worked at two newspapers, a construction company, and a library. I have studied science and biology at the ISC level, a year of engineering and computer science at the undergraduate level, and two years of economics, also at the undergraduate level. In short, I am a well read know nothing. Nevertheless, I persist in my belief that I have something to say about life, and therefore, chose to inflict my particular brand of fluff and feathers on all those unfortunate enough to happen across this page.
Now, my mother, a saint in dragon’s clothing, fed up with trying to cajole me into doing something with my life, recently decided to approach matters from a slightly different perspective. Gone were the day where I could laze in bed as long as I wanted (or, at least, as long as I could ignore her irritable commentary) – waking up one morning with a cup of coffee being forced down your throat is enough to make you wary – leaping out of bed is now standard dogma when one hears the dragon’s approach.
Recently, as you would know if you’re a returning visitor, I started on a two month long internship with a bank. It didn’t sound quite so bad when I head about it the first time – air-conditioned office, comfortable chairs, unlimited Internet access – who would complain? Unfortunately, I didn’t count on the new spirit invigorating my mother in getting to my father as well. The result? I have to make my own way to office everyday. Again, not so bad, you would think. Well, you be the judge. Here’s my average schedule for the day.
7:00 am – Put alarm clock on snooze.
7:05 am – Put alarm clock on snooze
7:10 am – Ears prick up at approaching tread, leap out of bed and dash to bathroom
7:30 am – emerge from bathroom, having bathed, shaved, and put on monkey suit (shirt, pants, tie, belt, socks, and shoes)
8:00 am – Having eaten breakfast, leave home for bank.
8:05 am – Reached main road near house via cycle rickshaw. Have first smoke of the day, have interesting conversation with driver. Begin ten to thirty minute wait for bus heading toward AIIMS (All India Institute of Medical Sciences), getting progressively more worried as clock approaches 8:35
8:40 am – Traveling in bus/Tata Sumo, heading toward AIIMS. Trying not to get toes crushed by obese, sweaty gentlemen who (inevitably) I am crushed up against because there’s no space. Being 5’6” is not a good thing, as people assume that the seat wasn’t taken, and react with great surprise to hear squeaking noises coming from under them.
9:00 am – With luck, have reached AIIMS. Spend a couple of minutes hoping for another bus to arrive, to take me to Connaught Place, barring which I have to go and get scalped by an auto rickshaw driver, who wants a hundred rupees and my first born child to take me to work.
9:15 am – Arrive at work. Go around the corner to a convenient panwari, to buy my pack of smokes for the day, and my daily half litre of Pepsi. Take first sip, smile happily, square shoulders, and march into office.
Between nine fifteen, and when I leave, there’s no exact set routine for the day. I work primarily with three people – M’rora, Tortoise, and the Wall. They’re all really nice guys – they helped me get settled in really well, always asking me if there’s any help I need, or anything of the sort, really great guys. Unfortunately, they’re under the impression that I actually WANT to work, and therefore take every opportunity to thrust obese and obscene looking files at me, pausing only to rattle off a line of meaningless gibberish before trotting off back to their terminals. “Hey, just run these MFAs past the BRG will you? And while you’re at it, pull a D-SIT off the GBASE, and correlate it with the BCA. Thanks!”
M-effing-A is just about right.
12:15 pm: Leave office, run to McDonalds. This is the only time that one can get a meal and a seat in the same visit. Every other time finds this place filled to the brim with visiting hippies, complete with requisite dreadlocks and tattoos, random smelly men from various offices, and stargazing couples. I swear. There were these two sitting next to me once, doing the whole dove impression, and feeding each other French fries. Very romantic location to choose, I must say.
12:45 pm: Return to office, begin dodging work once more. Rather, since the work that I’m expected to do is mostly formatting, with a little bit of light research on the side, it’s easy to keep two windows open and write while I work.
Somewhere around 6 pm: Leave work, covered in sweat, full to the gills with Pepsi, lungs black from frequent smoke breaks - which are actually taken to return calls - certain pretty women (you know who you are, if you’re reading this) insist on calling or missed calling, or sending me messages that say ‘Call’ in between particularly exciting bits of number shuffling (not that I'm complaining or anything, there's a particular one who's rather interesting, actually. If she'd only return calls once in a while, like she promises to).
6:20 pm: Finally have found a bus, or an auto rickshaw driver who’s prepared to be reasonable about the fare, heading back toward AIIMS. Aroma of sweat now enhanced by a faint miasma of Eau De Petrol Fumes.
7:00 pm: AIIMS once again. Buy bhutta, convince squatting-man-with-less-than-perfectly-opaque-loincloth to put a little more masala on it. Board bus for mehrauli. Make sure not to fall asleep on bus, as the DTC seems to let its drivers choose the route they take. Any turn is potentially on the route, and therefore, an alert mind, quick reflexes, and good stamina are essential. Unfortunately, I have none of those, so I have to compromise by sitting behind the driver and bawling into his ear when his fancy takes him off the route home.
7:20 pm: Mehrauli. Almost there, just one more bus…which is the one that’s never there. Compromise by finding some sort of transport heading to Haryana border, haggle with driver, offer him a smoke as a bribe to be reasonable, finally convince him that I’m not a millionaire in disguise (tearing at hair and pretending to be an out of work student works particularly well, thankfully I have a lot of experience in that particular role).
8:00 pm: Haryana border. Almost home. Frantically call friends, threaten them with severe psychological trauma if they don’t pick me up and drop me home.
8:30 pm: Home. Mauled by over affectionate dog with severe halitosis.
9:30 pm: Eaten dinner, had bath, met family, endured usual inane questions about whether work was fun today. G-BIT! D-BASE! BCA, for god’s sake, BCA, you miserable bats!
10:00 pm: With friends, who insist that I have just one drink, c’mon man, it’s just one, we haven’t seen you all day, you never spend any time with us…
2:00 am: Not sure who I am, or where I am. Quite thoroughly sozzled.
4:00 am: Finally reach room, change, collapse into bed, make attempt at reading a book that I started a week ago, and am still on the first page of.
4:30 am: Asleep. Passed out, more like.
Yes, yes, I know. My life sucks. Two and a half hours of sleep a night, ye gods.
Okay, okay, I’ll stop complaining.
Back to work, I suppose.
My name, as with a number of other details about me, is of no immediate consequence. I am at present 21 years of age, 22 in a matter of days. At present, I have studied three and a half years in undergraduate institutions; nevertheless, I have just completed the second years of my BSc. I have extensive experience when it comes to writing, since at the tender age of eleven I was convinced that I was god’s gift to the literary word, and therefore, spent the subsequent ten years painfully extracting coherent sentences from the depths of my brain. Read the last sentence again, if you don’t believe me – painfully is the word, trust me on this.
I have, so far in my meander through life, worked at two newspapers, a construction company, and a library. I have studied science and biology at the ISC level, a year of engineering and computer science at the undergraduate level, and two years of economics, also at the undergraduate level. In short, I am a well read know nothing. Nevertheless, I persist in my belief that I have something to say about life, and therefore, chose to inflict my particular brand of fluff and feathers on all those unfortunate enough to happen across this page.
Now, my mother, a saint in dragon’s clothing, fed up with trying to cajole me into doing something with my life, recently decided to approach matters from a slightly different perspective. Gone were the day where I could laze in bed as long as I wanted (or, at least, as long as I could ignore her irritable commentary) – waking up one morning with a cup of coffee being forced down your throat is enough to make you wary – leaping out of bed is now standard dogma when one hears the dragon’s approach.
Recently, as you would know if you’re a returning visitor, I started on a two month long internship with a bank. It didn’t sound quite so bad when I head about it the first time – air-conditioned office, comfortable chairs, unlimited Internet access – who would complain? Unfortunately, I didn’t count on the new spirit invigorating my mother in getting to my father as well. The result? I have to make my own way to office everyday. Again, not so bad, you would think. Well, you be the judge. Here’s my average schedule for the day.
7:00 am – Put alarm clock on snooze.
7:05 am – Put alarm clock on snooze
7:10 am – Ears prick up at approaching tread, leap out of bed and dash to bathroom
7:30 am – emerge from bathroom, having bathed, shaved, and put on monkey suit (shirt, pants, tie, belt, socks, and shoes)
8:00 am – Having eaten breakfast, leave home for bank.
8:05 am – Reached main road near house via cycle rickshaw. Have first smoke of the day, have interesting conversation with driver. Begin ten to thirty minute wait for bus heading toward AIIMS (All India Institute of Medical Sciences), getting progressively more worried as clock approaches 8:35
8:40 am – Traveling in bus/Tata Sumo, heading toward AIIMS. Trying not to get toes crushed by obese, sweaty gentlemen who (inevitably) I am crushed up against because there’s no space. Being 5’6” is not a good thing, as people assume that the seat wasn’t taken, and react with great surprise to hear squeaking noises coming from under them.
9:00 am – With luck, have reached AIIMS. Spend a couple of minutes hoping for another bus to arrive, to take me to Connaught Place, barring which I have to go and get scalped by an auto rickshaw driver, who wants a hundred rupees and my first born child to take me to work.
9:15 am – Arrive at work. Go around the corner to a convenient panwari, to buy my pack of smokes for the day, and my daily half litre of Pepsi. Take first sip, smile happily, square shoulders, and march into office.
Between nine fifteen, and when I leave, there’s no exact set routine for the day. I work primarily with three people – M’rora, Tortoise, and the Wall. They’re all really nice guys – they helped me get settled in really well, always asking me if there’s any help I need, or anything of the sort, really great guys. Unfortunately, they’re under the impression that I actually WANT to work, and therefore take every opportunity to thrust obese and obscene looking files at me, pausing only to rattle off a line of meaningless gibberish before trotting off back to their terminals. “Hey, just run these MFAs past the BRG will you? And while you’re at it, pull a D-SIT off the GBASE, and correlate it with the BCA. Thanks!”
M-effing-A is just about right.
12:15 pm: Leave office, run to McDonalds. This is the only time that one can get a meal and a seat in the same visit. Every other time finds this place filled to the brim with visiting hippies, complete with requisite dreadlocks and tattoos, random smelly men from various offices, and stargazing couples. I swear. There were these two sitting next to me once, doing the whole dove impression, and feeding each other French fries. Very romantic location to choose, I must say.
12:45 pm: Return to office, begin dodging work once more. Rather, since the work that I’m expected to do is mostly formatting, with a little bit of light research on the side, it’s easy to keep two windows open and write while I work.
Somewhere around 6 pm: Leave work, covered in sweat, full to the gills with Pepsi, lungs black from frequent smoke breaks - which are actually taken to return calls - certain pretty women (you know who you are, if you’re reading this) insist on calling or missed calling, or sending me messages that say ‘Call’ in between particularly exciting bits of number shuffling (not that I'm complaining or anything, there's a particular one who's rather interesting, actually. If she'd only return calls once in a while, like she promises to).
6:20 pm: Finally have found a bus, or an auto rickshaw driver who’s prepared to be reasonable about the fare, heading back toward AIIMS. Aroma of sweat now enhanced by a faint miasma of Eau De Petrol Fumes.
7:00 pm: AIIMS once again. Buy bhutta, convince squatting-man-with-less-than-perfectly-opaque-loincloth to put a little more masala on it. Board bus for mehrauli. Make sure not to fall asleep on bus, as the DTC seems to let its drivers choose the route they take. Any turn is potentially on the route, and therefore, an alert mind, quick reflexes, and good stamina are essential. Unfortunately, I have none of those, so I have to compromise by sitting behind the driver and bawling into his ear when his fancy takes him off the route home.
7:20 pm: Mehrauli. Almost there, just one more bus…which is the one that’s never there. Compromise by finding some sort of transport heading to Haryana border, haggle with driver, offer him a smoke as a bribe to be reasonable, finally convince him that I’m not a millionaire in disguise (tearing at hair and pretending to be an out of work student works particularly well, thankfully I have a lot of experience in that particular role).
8:00 pm: Haryana border. Almost home. Frantically call friends, threaten them with severe psychological trauma if they don’t pick me up and drop me home.
8:30 pm: Home. Mauled by over affectionate dog with severe halitosis.
9:30 pm: Eaten dinner, had bath, met family, endured usual inane questions about whether work was fun today. G-BIT! D-BASE! BCA, for god’s sake, BCA, you miserable bats!
10:00 pm: With friends, who insist that I have just one drink, c’mon man, it’s just one, we haven’t seen you all day, you never spend any time with us…
2:00 am: Not sure who I am, or where I am. Quite thoroughly sozzled.
4:00 am: Finally reach room, change, collapse into bed, make attempt at reading a book that I started a week ago, and am still on the first page of.
4:30 am: Asleep. Passed out, more like.
Yes, yes, I know. My life sucks. Two and a half hours of sleep a night, ye gods.
Okay, okay, I’ll stop complaining.
Back to work, I suppose.
32 comments:
On the bright side, you have to endure this routine ONLY till college starts again. On the not so bright side, when you are done with college, it'll become a way of life!
So the poor definitely-over-with-college everyday office trudgers and make the most of your last year (hopefully!!??!!! :>) of college. And god forbid you turn into a workaholic... imagine how much life will suck then.
Dude.
That's mean.
Anyway, with any luck - hell, with a lot of luck, one of my pieces will have crossed a sympathetic editor's desk.
Inshallah.
Your life does seem pretty crazy yeah but if you learn how to manage ur time then may be not!it's all about time management young fellow..
and why is it that you don't use the very hyped up Delhi metro to work?
you seem like a really smart guy and smoking and drinking aerated or for that matter alcoholic drinks is not something i would expect you to do..you know it's going to cause slow death..your brain cells will die and poison will run through your veins..you'll start corroding..so before that happens you better stop!
also in ur very hectic life you seem to have reserved no time for exercise..im not going to start blabbering about how important it is..but think about it!the next time you see ur dog take him for a run!
The Delhi Metro in all it magnificent glory, has yet to reach DLF. So, until then, it's sumos smelling of sweat, and buses reeking of armpit.
As for the smoking and drinking (of both kinds)...dude, I really want to defend myself, but there's no real point. You win.
Exercise wise, I think I'm good. That schedule was an average - about three days or maybe four in the week, I manage to get a couple of hours of football in, so I keep in shape.
Mr. Pratap, is that you?
im choking..no rolling..no crying..well actually all of the above with laughter..gollum..dfend yourself!!!! ahahahahahhahahahahahahahaahahaah im going to hit you!
I seem to have struck a nerve. Interesting. Yes, Gollum, defend yourself. Else you shall be ringed. Err. No, sorry, to contrived.
Ms. Blonde
Who are you going to hit?
I dont like being hit, so give me some advance warning, yes?
What do you call a girl with toys? Lego-lass.
well actually its ms NON blonde! and don't worry baboon it wasn't you was going to be hit..it was gollum..! but if you fail to get my blog name correct by calling me MS BLONDE then im afraid you might also be atop that hit list! lol..nice lego lass joke btw haha
and since we seem to be on the topic of riduculuosly lame jokes i can't help but add one of the all time weirdest i heard the other day. it goes like this:
knock knock
who's there?
michael
michael who?
michael learns to knock.
(oh dear..what has the world come to?)
"three Rings for the Eleven kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf lords in their halls of stone
Nine for Mortal Men (Non Blonde and Baboon) doomed to die..
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie.
One Ring to rule you all,One ring to bring you all and in the darkness bind you..
MY PRECIOUS
oh man gollum..good thing im seeing you in an hour..im gonna hit you for sure!!! hahaahahahah btw its one ring to rule them all..one ring to find them,..one ring to bring them all..and in the darkness bind them!! lol
The Non Blonde. thenonblonde.blogspot.com
A 30-something woman with a Mediterranean complexion and very long hair talks about beauty products, fragrance and fashion.
Look, I can get on board with the mediterranean complexion. Puerto Rican complexion, also, very nice. Very long hair, allright, sounds interesting.
30 something, and talking about beauty products, fragrance, and fashion?
Hmmm.
Allright. Not to seem xenophobic or anything, but who are you chaps? It gets a little unnerving when people take over your blog and start talking about the lord of the rings...(btw, that's an extremely open ended line - in the darkness, bind them? Sounds a bit kinky to me...)
uh oh..i wasn't aware of the nonblonde.blogspot.com..i can't believe you actually went and checked it out..! incredible..im wondering why you're so intent on finding out who exactly i am..an the non blonde thing is just a joke that my friends and i share, on account of them teasing me for years now about my resemblance(physical only) to a "typical blonde". because of the kind of hair i possessed at one point of my life..as for the lord of the rings thing..im sorry..just happens to be an all time favourite novel/movie of mine, thus the occasional references to it..i however ensure you that there has been no such "taking over" of your blog by us "chaps" little strange since i am a girl but..nevertheless..and that line..well its in the book..don't worry..no kinky pun intended im most certainly sure since the author is JRR TOLKIEN,..well that's about all i can say..
btw im so not 30!! not even close!! hahahahahah..this is getting funnier..sorry to shatter your hopes but im not of mediterranean origin..but i do live by the sea! and i guess im tanned..but not in a puerto rican way..more in the way of a girl who spends alot of time swimming and playing tennis! lol
uh oh baboon wig..
i just visited the nonblonde.blogspot.com, and i must say i understand what got you so puzzled..but honestly, i have better things to do with my life than discuss couture at bergdof goodman, and manolos..no lets just save that for sex and the city.. in fact the truth is..i don't have a blog..i just leave comments on blogs of other people..don't ask about the lack of a blog..its a tragic and somewhat absurdly melodramatic story..without a happy ending im afraid..and as for the name,THE NON BLONDE..i think i should change it..any suggestions? hmm wahooney? what say..too offensive? well..let me know!
I loved the movies too, but that was mostly because of the graphics, and cause of the scenery - mountains and me have a history - question, which would you rather be at, a mountain, or a beach?
Tolkien, yeah, the Grandpa of the Genre for sure. Robert Jordan is fantastic also - if you havent already read his series (The Wheel of Time), you should definitely pick it up. Amazing characterisation.
Allright, how old ARE you, then? (I realise it's immensely rude to ask a woman her age, but since you wont tell me anything else about yourself, you might as well give me this much. Or a clue, at least, unsolved mysteries drive me crazy)
Tell me one thing though. I know about ten people in Bombay all told - and ALL of them swim and play tennis. Here, it's basketball and football. Doesn't really make sense - although sportwise, I prefer football (I suck at tennis), so I'm not really complaining.
Have a blog. It's a blast, but damned addictive. I find myself posting at all sorts of ridiculous hours, and writing at even stranger ones.
Wahooney - well, I wouldnt suggest that, a wahoonie, at the end of the day, is something that women dont have.
Strictly biologically speaking, of course
the beach..definitely..baboon..if youve been to goa you'll know what im talking about..endlesss stretches of sand leading to the sea..and all that..its amazing.
i guess you and i liked lord of the rings for different reasons then..i barely even noticed the "to die for" sets..im the kind that watches movies just for the plot..and sometimes the actors..but.. at the end of the day..im a sucker for things like that you know..middle earth..elves.. dark lords.. kings..blah blah..i crave that!
yea it IS rude to ask people their age! not that i care much of course because i don't see what difference it could possibly make but even then..why do i get the feeling that you don't believe me when i say that im not a 30 something puerto rican with a flair for fashion? if i was then i wouldn't be spending the last few mornings of my precious holidays writing random comments on your blog would i? as for me not telling you anything about myself..that's insane!because.. you haven't even asked me!and about the part of me having my own blog..well i really don't have time to think of intellingent stuff in the middle of the night..sleep is quite important to me! besides..even if i did have one..(blog not wahoonie) it would only be filled with rants about my everyday life ( quite boring to my dismay) and stupid things my friends do (too crazy to even believe)..thus my arguement is..what's the point?..hmm..people here play basketball and football too..just not me, and that too for the following two reasons: a) im short(5 ft 2 and a half..not a good height to be) and b) i've had some uh.."incidences"..yea i suppose you could call them that..whilst playing football..so i just stick to the other two sports.
and finally..this is of course entirely upto you to belive in the end but..18..that's it..my age i mean..as for the name part..non blonde is pretty acceptable to me..as is wahoonie..in fact its funny! what say?
and..robert jordan huh? the wheel of time..hmm..interesting..lets see if i can get some reading done in the next three days..
Yeah, Goa is beautiful...have you been to that Taj beach? The old Taj, I mean, there's an abandoned oil tanker stuck maybe two hundred metres offshore..and at night, with the phosphorence, and the moon going down on the water..yeah. Puts you in a really mushy mood, that's for sure.
Yeah, I love fantast as well..PLEASE dont tell me you're a Legolas fan? I mean, yeah, he was cool and all, but I kinda prefered Gimli. More down to earth, if you know what I mean. Although the well-here-an-elephant-why-dont-i-climb-up-the-side-and-assasinate-it was a bloody good scene.
Okay, let's try this.
It's kinda freaky meeting someone online - at least, this is my first time, so be gentle, okay?
Heh.Let's exchange info bit by bit, yes? Makes it a litte more interesting, and in case you (or for that matter, I) turn out to be a psychopathic stalker type person, then it'll be easy to back off...
Lets see..you already know a bunch of stuff about me. My last name is Wig, i'm 22, i'm 5'6"...er...okay, that's not a lot. Umm..i have two dogs?
Arre, so think of interesting stuff in the daytime, no? I promise i'll visit the site..just keep typing no matter what is what I do...filtering out the bull comes later, and eventually, the bull filters itself out...but then, I love writing - my one skill.
Heh, I know what you mean about the basketball...although 5'6" isnt much better - I'm good at stealing, but scoring is beyond me, quite literally. Incidences galore this side...perhaps when we know each other a little better, otherwise i'll probably come across as really wierd. But then I am so...well, later.
Umm...notabombaybimbo?
or wahoonie, yes, that works too..
haha..wow..are you saying your idea of romantic setting is a beach with an oil tanker stuck somewhere around?? and yea..you're talking about the taj up at fort aguada..its amazing..set on this high cliff..and the view at night..wow! but to be honest..thats as wow as it gets for me..because i stay at the leela when i go there every year.. as for the taj beach..not that hot a location because its a public beach and this one time i was staying there..we left our stuff on the sand under this tree..and went swimming..and when we came back we realised this dog had come and peed on our stuff..(i really liked my sarong :( oh well..) so all in all..not such a great experience!
legolas?? nooo way...not in a million years..i don't even think he 's all that cool..actually im a diehard aragon fan..what can i say?
as for the sharing..my last name is pretty normal..(unlike..um ..yours)and the rest is stuff you already know about me..im 18, i live in bombay, im 5'2", and i have zero dogs..oh and my closest connection to delhi..my grandparents live there so im compelled to make 2 trips a year to visit them..in summer and winter..and i had 3 dogs in my delhi house but 2 died and one went to singapore with my aunt..hmm..and my favourite colour s red?? haha..i don't know if that's even relevant but yea..since you made that whole pyschostalker comment..btw..i hate stalkers..i know someone who had a bad experience with someone who used to stalk him..so im a bit wary myself..
and the blog part..thanks but honestly..if i was to publish one of those things..it would probably be filled with ridiculous nonsense..which i would just read later and feel stupid about..so ill save myself the trauma! like ive said before..il pass..!
yea id like to know about the basketball playing, kilt wearing, potted plant being fiascos..sounds uh..interesting..and to me it seems like we d probably have ALOT of really weird stories to swap should we get the chance,..haha..maybe if i do put up a blog sometime..at least id have a theme..the intellectual stuff won't work for me for too long..i know id just get bored after a point anyway!
oh..and what exactly do you mean by "bombay bombo"? where the hell did that come from? lol!
did i just type bobmaby bombo?? i meant bimbo..
Romantic setting? The tanker's pretty cool, since the phosphorence adds to the scene and everything...but nah, I'm more of the mountains sort of chap. Romantic setting there - on a ledge looking down, in the middle of winter, at night, watching the moon wander across the sky and the mist gently steal into the valley below - ah, beautiful. And it's so quiet up there too... The Taj thing, though, see, for some reason, my mom and dad love Goa in the rain - and also, we've been going to the village since i was 7, so somehow, whenever we go to goa, it's in july/august, and we're at the village.
Leela i've been to once - the beach there is beautiful, yeah, but the place itself...i dunno, a bit too overdone. What sort of oddball listens to the radio in the shower, anyhow?
Hey, you're cheating again. You just said that your name's pretty normal - that's everything, barring Wig, Baanchod (I swear, I saw his board up outside his house in poona), and the like. So whatislastname?
Accha, here's an interesting thing. My sister is in the process of moving to bombay - she just got a job there, so she's getting ready to pack up and shove off...which kinda sucks. Anyway, I might be going with her to help her get settled in - will be there for maybe a week, sometime in August, if I go.
Wotsay? Throw caution to the winds and meet up? Your call entirely - although I have to admit I'd be a bit freaked if someone asked me this. Er. Anyway. Let me know, yes?
(And we can swap all those wierd stories. Well, some, at any rate, cause I've got too many for one sitting, kind of thing.)
hmm..mountains?? interesting..i hate them..its so bloody cold up there and you re bundled up in layers of itchy sweaters and wool ..i hate the feeling of nearly being choked to death with scarves and mufflers..not to mention how dizzy i get at high altitudes..and my nose turns red with the cold and becomes so numb i cant even feel myself breathe..yea gimme a warm sandy beach anyday..! places with cold climates just make me miserable..
as for the bathroom radios..they're cute ok..nice of them to be so considerate and think about the guests..the owners are good friends of my parents..maybe i should recommend some tv s instead of the radios huh? and hey this is a major coincidence becuase my family goes to goa in august as well! (just like every other monsoon loving bombayite but yet)..
and how am i cheating? technically you didn't TELL me your name was wig..you only told me it rhymes with pig and to "think hair". the guess in the end was mine right?and if i remember clearly..which im quite sure i do..i told you my name rhymes with baloney..now its not exactly my fault if the only thing you thought of was "wahoonie"..true or not?
but since im in a pretty good mood today (becuase i just finished a killer assignment) ive decided to be unnaturally kind..therefore.. lastnameiskapoor.(my first name rhymes with baloney/wahoonie btw)
your sister s moving to bombay? thats amazing..there s nothing like living in this city..especially if you re livng alone!
hmm..throw caution to the winds huh?? well honestly i would hav said no but in this case im intrigued..i have to admit..so my call is..er yes ok (you're right it is a bit freaky to be asked this but im not any less random so..)..although you better let me know waay in advance becuase august s a crazy month for me..anyhow im willing to take you up on the story swapping..should be challenging in a fun way..to see who s stories are weirder..haaha..
Saloni Kapoor? Naomi Kapoor? (Not Rishi Kapoor, no?)
Heh, ironic once again.
My mum's maiden name is also Kapoor. Wait, maybe Kapur. Not sure. One of the two, at any rate.
I dunno - I kinda like Goa in the rain also - it's gorgeous, that's for sure, although there's really not all that much you can actually do - kinda too soggy and dripping to try any sort of wandering around/games.
Yeah, sister's moving out - kinda sucks. I mean, the twit has been around forever, so she kinda grew on me...I dunno. Didn't think I'd miss her that much, but she hasn't even left yet, and I know I'm going to. At any rate, if I do come to Bombay, it'll be somewhere in early August - perhaps the 4th, 5th kinda thing. I'll let you know for sure, though.
I'm at adityam_wig@hotmail.com (the m in the middle is for mohan -it seems like they were determined to make sure I was the kid who got beat up in school for having a wierd name, and I think they did a pretty good job, at that...)
Y'know, I wonder what it's going to be like, if we meet - I mean, online and all it seems all chilled - yeah, no problem, I'm a human, she's a human, look, loads in common right away - but then on the other side is that we've never actually talked, dont know what the other looks like, and have had almost no contact 'cept for these blogs. Hmm. Intrusting.
Btw, sorry 'bout the delay, my 'ol friend (read laptop) is having things done to its innards, so I'm temporarily uncomputable.
Btw, I've been meaning to ask.
Who's Gollum?
yea well..you got it..saloni is actually correct..not naomi(does that rhyme with baloney??) and definitely not rishi!..not only did you not believe i wasn't 30 and puerto rican but you also don't believe im a chick?? if thats the case then you're in for a surprise..because i am..! (a chick that is)
yeah talk about irony..but my mother's maiden name was definitely not wig so..actually kapoor s a very common surname..i know a million of them.
..and nothing to do in goa? have you tried jet skiing in the rain? god its brilliant!
as for the sister moving out part..hmmm..i wonder how much i'd actually miss MY sister if she were to move out..actually that question doesn't really arise because im older than her so if either of us is moving its me who's pushing off first..!
wow aditya m wig?? poor you..so is your full name adityamohan? coz i know this guy who's name is adityavikram..we all call him eddie..but im guessing people don't really call you emmy or something right?
when we meet.."she's human"?? wow thats polite! and a little freaky referring to me as if im not going to read that..! it might be a little weird..for all the reasons you mentioned and a few more..but who know's only (and maybe) time will tell..first week of august huh? thats in like in less than two weeks..but yeah let me know waaaay ahead of time because im really busy with this music video thing im working on and it airs in 3 weeks so..you know..! im having killer days trying to get stuff together.
oh and the no contact thing..maybe we should communicate beore that (salonikapoor@hotmail.com) just in case..(you or me turns out to be really strange)
and about the laptop problems..its ok chill..i totally understand..most of the electrical appliances in my house stop functioning nearly as soon as they're bought because my house is near the sea so all the moisture n stuff gets in and it all gets rusted..tragic huh? as for my laptop..right about now the moisture s reached its speakers so it makes shrill wailing noises when you start and turn it off.. i know its more or less on the verge of dying..so long sony viao!
and gollum..hmm..im not exactly sure who it is..so i think il let him/her tell you his/her self who he/she really is..!
gollum has been captured by Sauron.He is presently being taken to the land of Mordor...he might never come back
hahahahhahahahahhahahhahahaahha oh man..this gollum is really strange/funny..capured by sauron..may never come back?? hahahahahhahahahhahahahahhahah..!!
Okay, okay.
I very, very breifly worked with a construction company. And did no constructing while I was at it.
ehh..where was the reply to all my comments? now THAT would technically be called a waste of comment space!!!
Hallew!
Sorry for the delay – t’was my birthday, so a lot got sidelined in favour of not doing anything, and getting drunk instead.
Saloni Kapoor…hmm, I think I know a song that has that name in it – the video (quite typically) has some sari clad woman loafing around in a rainy field. Good old bollywood, you always know what to expect (‘cept for Mallika Sherawat, NOBODY saw that one coming. And I wish she hadn’t come, either).
No, I believe you’re not a 30 year old Puerto Rican – that would be a really strange twist, I think. A little too strange for reality to handle – although, come to think of it, reality already has Michael Jackson, so maybe not. Nonetheless. As long as you’re not my 14 year old cousin messing with me, that’s all good. Heh, okay, okay. You’re an 18 year old Bombay girl called Saloni Kapoor. Who lives near the sea, and who has a Sony Vaio that’s steadily succumbing to the elements (see, I pay attention!)
My full name, as it turns out, is Aditya Mohan Wig. Wig, I have a feeling, was Vaid at some point, which got dropped for it’s slightly more Punjabi sounding cousin. Mohan’s also sort of a family name – most of the males in the Wig family have Mohan tacked on after their first names – so my dad becomes Lalit Mohan Wig, and so on (btw, the gentleman posting above, who’s laughing at me when I say that I worked in a construction company is my dad. And the construction company is his. See how much faith my own flesh and blood have in me?)
As for the Eddie bit…well, a bunch of my friends used to call me Addy (rhyming with baddie, but not quite as cool). And after that damned Nikki Bakshi song came out, because this woman I know liked it, and I used to spend a lot of time with her, they started calling me Addy Bakshi. With the rest of the song following, of course – Addy Bakshi, sweet and sexy, full on rocking, hot and happening. Lovely. With friends like this, who needs hecklers?
Oye.
I think I’m going to start mailing you, this posting doesn’t seem like a good idea since Pop has started reading my blog – see, he has this habit of automatically assuming that any woman I talk to/look at/mention/have any contact with is my girlfriend, or prospective, and after my birthday, he has more than enough ammo as it is to give me the third degree.
Now the thing is this. Since I’m at a bank, and the bank has blocked all public mail servers to make sure people actually work, and since I get home pretty late, sometimes, I don’t check my inbox for days at a time – if it seems like I’ve missed a mail of yours, just leave a comment on the latest post, I’ll check it when I get back that day…
Cheers!
Oh, and continuing with the gradual driblets of info…um…yeah. I love Dire Straits.
haha no no its ok..i was bored yesterday so i was reading your blog and just wondered how come your reply was two lines long..but hey..birthdays are meant for getting totally drunk..(as are all other occasions like weddings, parties, clubbing nights and all that..err i don't think this is coming out the right way so il just stop)
as for my name..hmm..i don't wear saris or loaf around in the rain..and field s in bombay are a rare sight so..no chance of that ever happening..but i gotta tell you..my name has absolutely no connection to that video..but i know which one you're talking about.it has some really creepy actor lurking around behind pillars watching the..um.saloni girl "loaf around" in the rain..
and for the reality part..thangod things like that don't happen in real life!
good thing i convinced you about the portugese woman thing btw..although i wouldn't mind being one (portugese i mean).. saloni de gama or something..actually no forget that..im talking shit because iv only slept for two hours so..
and its pretty obvious im not your 14 year old anyone! lol..
yeah you pretty much summed it up..18..bombay..sea..recurringly bad days with technology..etc etc..
my name..well, its just that..saloni kapoor, nothing added on no family name attached to anyone elses..actually there's never any real need for that..im sure i don't even know my own relatives' real names. see, the thing about us punjabis is that we're really good at devising hideously weird nicknames for each other..so everyone's either pinky or bubbly or chotu or monu..and the list goes on..(don't even ask what I am..its embarrassing..seriously..)
and..addy bakshi?? hahahah..no offence, but how does addy rhyme with nikki? ( or neil if that's what you should technically be since you're a guy..so its more like..you're the wig..you're the man..rockstar..superstar..(or maybe not..i don't know)
as for the mailing part..yeah im cool with that..im guessing your busy schedule also keeps you fom coming online much in that case?? well anyway..yeah ok..so its basically like this..you mail me and i reply, and to indicate to you that i've mailed back i post a comment(random or otherwise) on your latest post..whew..but yea i got it!
and if you're dad reads this then..hello uncle..(btw..he would know about the whole mailing thing too after reading this..so you'd probably get the third degree, anyway huh?)
oh and as for the sharing..umm.. i learn salsa..sorry im not yet sure about what my musical tastes are exactly..i like anything fast and noisy! lol~~
oh i thought about it last night..i like guns n roses, three doors down and maroon 5...as in i prefer them to other bands
why did you delete your dad's comment? it was funny!
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