Thank You for being there…

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Wish you all a very happy day today :)

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Special mention to four of my bestest friends: Achan, Amma, Chettan and Suraj :)

And to all my friends. You’ve all given me a lot. Thanks for being there. For being F.R.I.E.N.D.S. :)

Time to say goodbye

and I said it all yesterday: my last day at work! :D

I’ve never seen anyone being made to work so much in their notice period! Bah! I used to be real tired on all days…too tired to even blog! Why, even weekends were spent brainstorming (alone!!) and coming up with new ideas. But yes, I enjoyed it thoroughly.

It was a nice job, the work was super, the team was (mostly) great. But somehow, I reached that point of exasperation real soon. And I decided to quit. Two of my best buddies at work also decided the same thing. So, there was no feeling of ‘leaving good things back’ ;) But within two days of giving in the resignation, some real cool people joined the team…and the last three weeks were SUPER FUN!

Sometimes, I regret having quit when things were turning to look good. But well, the not-so-good elements will always remain – high and strong – and that will eventually bring the fun down. For sure. So, maybe it wasn’t that bad at all…this decision. And it’s a small world. We’ll cross paths again.

We were a gang of four. Now one person’s left behind. Will always try for his best too :)

It was an unexpectedly good ‘last day’. Unexpected gift, a team lunch, a ‘token of appreciation’, lousy speech, photo sessions, formalities, signatures, handing over, farewell, party, hugs, goodbyes, laughs, work, yummy food, sad songs, last-minute proofing, chilling out, catching up, cribbing, LOLs, whining, winding up, coming home. And then, it was over.

One mutton curry, one fish pickle and two gifts pending. I haven’t forgotten, guys and girl :) I’ll be back ;)

And now, I’m moving on. To IBM. To be an IBMer :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :)

that thing called Manipal: a travellogue

Manipal. The first thing the name brings me is irritation of an incomprehensible level :D It’s to do with a client, and a mad one at that ;) You get it now, don’t you?

So, when the husband said he had to go to Manipal on official duty (and was taking the wife along), I could only snort in response :D “Of all the places in the world, why Manipal?”, I asked. Because that’s where the press where the mass printing’s getting done I located, he said. I was so not interested, but well, because our wedding vows also included a silent vow that said “Thou shalt not live apart ever after 17 Nov 2008”, I agreed to tag along (but only after he promised 24×7 Internet, a trip to Malpe beach and to Mookambika temple) ;).

View from the room :)

But now, am so glad I agreed. Manipal is awesome. It’s a beautiful place…and was made even more beautiful by the rains. We left Bangalore by the 11p.m. KSRTC Airavat and reached Manipal by about 7. And I was astounded at the beauty of the place…at how the rains made is spellbindingly gorgeous…at how similar the place is to parts of Kerala. Show any Keralite a bit of Manipal countryside, and he/she would easily identify it as some part of Kerala.

Green fields that carpet the countryside, coconut trees that sway to the winds, rains that envelop all this in a bubble of beauty…

Oh yes, there were rains throughout…and I simply loved the place. Yea, rains can make any damn place beautiful; but if it’s one with greenery, nothing a rain can’t do to make it BEAU!

The husband @ End Point :D

The view from our suite at Sharada International, Udupi, was awesome :) We would wake up to stretches of green, enveloped by rain and sun :D We could see groups of beautiful white cranes give company to the lonely cow grazing by the field; the lone tractor weaving its way through the fields in the pouring rain; kids playing in the rain, at a far away house; and the pitter-patter of rain on the leaves of the many coconut trees!

We went about this little city, exploring bits and bites ;) The food at Manipal, and Udupi especially, is to DIE FOR! I am this weird South Indian who hates masala dosa (it has its origins at Udupi): but when I had a bite of it from the husband’s plate at the Woodlands Hotel, Udupi, I couldn’t stop myself from ordering one more, which I actually wholly ate up! :D Apparently, there is this hotel there that serves some umpteen varieties of masala dosas! Yet to figure the place out. I’m soon going back once the Tuscan Wine’s home ;)

Unbelievable, how a barren town could be converted into such beauty , and an educational town at that, by one single person’s initiative. The extremely polite, helpful auto drivers of Manipal & Udupi later told us that Manipal’s a lot more active, happening and interesting when the students are around. Apparently, right now, it’s the 2-month vacation time ;) Manipal, called India’s Education Town, has students from over 52 countries studying at the many colleges there.

The husband @ Malpe

End Point, beyond the Manipal University, is really the end point! :D It gives you the best view of Manipal on one side; and the sea on the other :) We couldn’t go to the actual view-point, since it was already 6, and it was raining, and the uto driver told us we better not foray that far. So, didn’t see the sea! :(

Malpe Beach is one of the most serene, placid, tranquil beach I’ve ever been to. The waves are in no hurry to hit you or return. They just roll about lazily, lapping around you, bringing in tiny white baby crabs and sea shells. It was awesome :) One could walk quite a distance into the sea, and the biggest wave would probably hug around your waist! I loved it :)

In fact, I loved the place so much, I forgot all about going to Mookambika. :D To make up for which, on the way to the bus stand (bus was at 8.30, we left room at 7.15), we went via the Udupi Krishna Temple, where I thought I could make a quick visit. After the darshan, I bought a few laddus and everything and decided to hurry back. But alas! The temple was so huge, I lost my way in there :D I had no clue where I came in from, or where I wanted to go! Finally, I reached the auto where the husband waited patiently, at 8.15. Reached the bus stand at 8.25, and boarded the bus in 5 minutes :D :D

Yes, I’ve decided to settle down at al :) That’s, when I’m done settling at Goa. And Austria. And Manali. Damn, first I’ve to get out of this frikkin Bangalore :D
Yes, Manipal is perhaps the only place…
  • where the sun becomes a tad brighter just before it starts raining like crazy :D It catches you totally unawares, the sun coming out from behind  the clouds in full glory, only to have sheets of rain speeding down in the most beautiful way ;)
  • with roads that could be 8-lane wide, but have absolutely no traffic :) At those busy Bangalore hours  of 8-10 am and 6-7 p, Manipal’s roads have about 2 buses, 3 autos, a couple of cars and a few two-wheelers :D
  • where ever-smiling people build beautiful houses in the most beautiful settings, and bust all that beauty by stringing all their laundry on the gates and front walls and porch (to dry, of course!) :D
  • where auto drivers smilingly tell you the fare and do not cheat, even though they know we’re not locals ;)
  • where lots and lots of lush green covers all ground, soothing your eyes :)
OK. So, there may be other such places; but of all the ones I’ve been to (and that’s quite a list, never been to one with all these).
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Well, problem is, now I hate the client all the more! For having me made always wince and swear at the mere mention of “Manipal”; for having made me refuse to even see this beautiful place; for having always scorned “Manipal”. Organisations must NEVER recruit people who do not seem capable of understanding them, and their spirit! :D Even better, if they’re never allowed to take up the name of a place as their organisation’s name :D ;)
P.S.: Malayalees (anyone, for that matter), if you ever go there and need a good guide, go to Syndicate Circle and ask for an auto rickshaw driver names Philip :) The best and sweetest auto driver I ever met!  :)

A sup-er, dup-er, 55-er marriage ;)

Four years back, my then-friend-now-husband asked me
“…do you think we’d still be friends like this then?”

I replied, “No. We’d probably be married!” :D

Yesterday, we celebrated our 4th “un-official” anniversary.

The journey has been perfect so far: right amounts of love,
fights, blames, joy, happiness, sacrifices, cribs, everything.

We have The Perfect Marriage. [Touchwood.] :)

Sophistication starts with an ‘S’. So does Stupidity :P

I am what I am! :D

A statement like that’s the only way I can establish that if you need to like me, you just need to do it without getting judgmental or advisory :D  Just assume that I’m a composed, sophisticated and so-full-of-attitude person. Because, sophistication does not come to me naturally. But I am trying my best :D

I have (rather had) a habit of keeping a daily diary. And now that I’ve given it up (gave up after marriage…lest the husband gets to know the ‘real’ me ;)), I miss going back on years and reading about those days of stupidity. So, I thought, what better place than my blog to keep my secrets stupid…uh oh…keep my stupidities a secret, i meant! :D

Anyways, here goes my favourite ones :D (Long-post-ahead Alert!!)

I was like 3 or 4, I used to spend the entire day in the company (or the lack of it) of my grandmother. She used to make me nap alongside her for 3 hours compulsorily (to keep me away from mischief while she slept). One day, devoid of any sleep, I was pressing her ruby locket into my arm and making impressions when she looked at me lovingly and said, “When I die, this locket will be yours.” I nodded my head and continued with the impressions; then suddenly, I woke her up from sleep and said, “marakkalle ammumma...” (Please don’t forget, Grandma). And she didn’t! It wasn’t forgotten like one for those “innocent comments” kids make. Sigh!

I was probably labelled dangerous to be left alone with Grandma any more. She feared for her life, I suppose. It was decided I was to attend kindergarten :D

On my first day at Kindergarten, I was screaming away at full-throttle at the prospect of getting abandoned by my mom…that the teacher there made me sit on her lap to pacify me and make me feel safe. I decided that was going to be my seat everyday (and it definitely helped that she was quite plump; such comfortable seating, I say!). The next day onwards, I’d walk in, keep my bag and lunch pack on the desk allocated for me, and go climb on to her lap. :D It was like our family kindergarten: all my elder cousins, and my brother, had been to the same one; so, I did enjoy a level of freedom and partiality there ;) Anyways, like most women, she also loved to gossip…and she did that religiously with the ayah there, discussing every parent that comes to drop off their kids. She once told the ayah that my mom literally throws me in and rushes off (in her defense, my poor mom had a punching system for attendance at her office and couldn’t afford to be late even by a minute!). I promptly went home and told my mom that…and she stayed a lil longer the next day to explain herself. I never retrieved my ‘comfortable’ seat after that! Sigh!

I suppose she kept tabs on me forever after that. “Teachers” were my greatest enemies ever since :D And especially so, if they taught either Hindi or Malayalam!

I was double promoted and put into UKG almost a month after I joined LKG. Guess she wanted me out of there asap! And then I joined an ICSE school. Since my dad had a transferable job, he decided that I should opt for Hindi as my second language, since he was sure his next transfer would be to some place in the north. And I was put into the Hindi gang there. Being an ICSE school, we had only two languages to learn. English, of course, was compulsory. And my optional was Hindi, and not Malayalam. By the time I reached my 3rd grade, Dad got his transfer to the “north”; only, it was to North Kerala, and not North India!! :D We packed off to Guruvayur. I was put into a CBSE school: and voila! two languages became three. English, Hindi and Malayalam. All compulsory. Damn! I was in big trouble. Our Malayalam teacher turned out to be a Sanskrit professor as well; in fact, that was her primary subject. So, one can imagine her depth of knowledge of the Malayalam language as well. I immediately got into her black list :D Mom became my self-proclaimed Malayalam tutor and started teaching me the alphabets. While the rest of the class raced each other in reading page-long lessons, I was trying to write “a aa e ee u uu” without mistakes :D Soon, it was time for the mid-term exams. I blinked. I knew the answer to just one question! I was elated too: at least, I won’t take home a zero! The question was to list two synonyms of Bhoomi (earth). I knew the answers — Kshoni and Paaru. But alas, Mom had taught me the older script, while the school was teaching the new script; in all that tension of getting spanked by the teacher again, I muddled up everything and wrote the answers in my own script. Apparently, I was destined to take home a zero! After paper valuation, my answer was read in front of the entire class. “Priya’s synonyms for Bhoomi are Keshani (gossip/jealousy) and Paara (backstabbing and the like, born out of jealousy or anger). Was a small school, and I became infamous! Sigh!

Anyways, after scraping through high school without much trouble, I got into a mad gang of friends in the 11th and 12th grades. We had an ever-irate classmate whom we all loved to fool. Once, during a free hour, we were all having fun when I saw this girl remove her shoes and stretch her toes. I slowly pulled one from under the bench and threw it out the window. Bad timing; for our Physics teacher walked by just then, looking for me! She marched in and ordered me out of the class (this had become an everyday affair, o there was no embarrassment). She’d been on her way to penalise me for writing a friend’s fair record (I loved Physics and was always more than willing to be where Physics was :D; and yes, he told me I had the best handwriting in school ;)). Anyway, she started screaming at me for being irresponsible, indisciplined and all that. And to top it all she had seen a 11th grader throw a fellow ‘studious’ 11th graders shoe out the window! And while the screaming went on, I stood there, head bent as much as it would bend, laughing my guts out and almost succeeding in keeping her unaware…till she almost went down on her knees to see my face. Though she did smile, she had a super report to give my parents! Sigh!

But she was a real sport the day I rushed in late for my 12th Boards final practical exam! I rushed into the dark coolness of the huge school building from a scorching sun, which made my eyes watery; and the running made me pant. When she hissed at me for my late arrival, all I could manage to say was, “Teacher, my grandmother…” and she just assumed my grandmother must’ve passed away! She immediately made amends, apologised (!!!) and directed me to my seat. When the external invigilator called me over to question my knowledge of the project I’d submitted, she interrupted her and told her, “Her grandmother…psst…psst…psst.” And, to my surprise, am excused from the Q&A session. AND. I passed the exam with a 29 on 30! ;)

Anyway, that marked the end of my tryst with the sciences. I was, any day, better off with Arts and the languages.

I gave up my love of Physics (my extraordinary talent in Mathematics made sure I never fared well in Physics) and chose to graduate in Literature. The college I did my graduation in, was set a little off from the main road: which meant all of us had half a kilometre to walk to and from the bus stop to college. Every evening, there would be about 100-150 girls (it was a women’s college) crowding at the highway bus stop ;) Which meant, there’d be a good share of guys too :D On a certain day, a group of us girls were waiting for the bus, chatting animatedly when I noticed a guy giving our gang repeated looks and occasional smiles. And so, I told the rest of the gang “There’s a guy yonder, sending looks this way…he’s even smiling, as if we’re basking in his attention. Vrithikettavan. Vaainokki. Mazhuvan!” And then, one among the group became highly interested in the word “mazhuvan“, the meaning of which I started explaining most happily. I told her it means anything in the range of  ‘geek’, ‘useless’, ‘nerd’, ‘drip’, ‘bore’… And then, she wanted to know how I could make out so much about him. Like a wise ass, I told her, “It’s quite evident…look at his hairstyle…his stupid dressing…n that ready-made smile…and just about everything. Ivaneyokke kettunnavalde kashtakaalam (pity the girl who’ll marry him). I’d love to warn her!” “Yes. You just did,” she said, and walked off in his direction! Turned out he’d come to pick her up and was waiting for the rest of us to leave. Sigh!

Jesus! I wished I could sink through the ground then! That was the LAST time I made any comment about random people!

In spite of years of such incidents, I wonder why I took up Advertising and Public Relations for my PG! Hehe…any brand which’d trust their name in my hands would be doing so at their own risk ;) OK! Am kidding. Am actually quite good at my work! :D

Anyways, it was an autonomous college that focused on MBA and PGDM courses. I think the PR&Ad course was only because they liked the extra income ;) We were a small group of 15 Malayalees in a college that hyped on MBA and PGDM, which had a high North-Indian population. And, we were the trouble makers ;); least popular of all batches :D They hated us, we hated them. Once, there was a National-level seminar held for the sake of the PGDMs, and since the professors didn’t trust us to behave ourselves if left alone, we were (like a punishment), asked to attend it too. And the moment the seminar got over, we sprang up from our seats and rushed out, making fun of the ‘panna’ PGDMs. I lead the rushing out, got my heel caught under the carpet and feel headlong onto the portico—in front of the entire college. I could hear gasps and murmurs. But all I could think of was the way I fell, and how hilarious it might have been to see. And, lying right there, I burst out laughing in front of some 200 odd students. Well, that was the only time some good came out of my ‘situations’. Our gang was not perceived as ‘stuck-up’ anymore! ;)

The icing on the cream cake was after my engagement. Suraj and I had created chaos in both families by falling in love: a Christian and a Hindu. After much refusal, esp. from his family, we’d gotten everyone to agree. Finally, the dates were fixed, and cards were printed. There was a formality of the bride’s parents “inviting” the bridegroom’s parents. We were on our way back to Trivandrum from Guruvayur, and dropped in at his place in Kochi. According to Hindu traditions, the bride does NOT step into the groom’s house before marriage! I was only too happy to stay back in the car. But his dad was a sport and welcomed me also in, saying, “We Christians don’t have such beliefs. Come on in.” I give a shy smile (pretending to be the polite daughter-in-law of their dreams), remove my shoe and (as is considered auspicious) keep my right foot on the first step. Boom! The transformer nearby burns off with a terrifying boom and vibrations, causing a bike to fall off its stand against the neighbour’s gate and crash. And obviously, the power goes off! Just like in the movies :D His dad managed to hold on to that smile, and (a little falteringly this time) repeats, “Come right in.” How I managed to sit through 20 minutes without bursting out laughing, I alone know! Damn, what an impression that must’ve made. Sigh!

The consequences…and my learnings:

  • I hate gold (and valuable jewellery) and did NOT inherit my grandmother’s locket even after she passed away 9 months back.
  • I’ve realised that gossiping (and even being a mute audience to it) does one no good; and try and abstain from it as much as is possible.
  • I have learnt to read and write Malayalam, in whichever script and font size it may be!
  • I do not throw shoes out the window anymore (but I still haven’t learnt to control my urge to laugh when I’m being scolded!)
  • I’ve never, since, started any sentence with “my grandmother”, esp right after running!
  • I do not make comments about random people anymore.
  • I do not wear heels anymore.
  • I swear never to step into the bridegroom’s house before my wedding, anymore. [I lead a very happily married life, and have proved that such incidents do not spell disasters (for marriages)!]

Three’s never a crowd!

After quite a long time (4 and a half months, for sure), I called up one of my closest friends — to know that she was 4 months pregnant!! So much for being “close friends”!!! :P

And after the inital whats and whaats and whaaats, I let out one string of abuses her way for not letting me know. And with that ever cheeky that-don’t-impress-me-much tone, she tells me, “Oh! I thought I’ll just give you all a surprise!” Apparently, in all that excitement and tests and waiting-for-the-confirmation delays, she forgot to call us. Then she thought about it a month later…by then she was sure she’d get killed for not having told us friends. And then, she thought ‘what the heck, let the baby come out…and i’ll let them know”. The ass! Hehe…she was quite sure then, that we wouldn’t be meeting till the baby’s out :P

I’ve been friends with this mad girl since my 9th grade…and it’s always been the ‘heights of fun’ when the two of us, along with the third musketeer, joined together! All 3 of us are “younger sister” to some super brothers…and while we both have 1, she has 3!! Which explains her escalated level of madness!

We’ve stayed cooped up in her smelly bedroom from morn till night, pretending to study…while all we ever did was read novels and eat and make endless phone calls and eat and sleep and eat and gossip and eat and…oh, you get the picture, right? We’ve walked from her house, all the way to mine (some good 8-9kms) in the scorching sun, chattering away on about everything. We’ve spent hours together discussing loves, crushes and heartbreaks.

We’ve travelled all over Trivandrum for no reason at all (as a result of talking animatedly and boarding any damn bus without looking at the name board!!)…in fact, once we sat right in front of the conductor’s seat in the bus and refused to take a ticket :D Just before getting off the bus, when the conductor asked us for the ticket, she actually told him “Oh, innu ticket edukkan oru moodilla” (Oh, we didn’t have the mood to get a ticket today!) :P

We’ve bunked our classes to join a third class’ PT hour {two of us were in the same class n this mad one was in another; so, while the every class had just one PT hour a week, we had one everyday…almost ;)}and play in the hot sun (guess we were the only 3 girls the PT master didn’t hate :D)! We’ve always wanted to be in the same class (precisely why the teachers conspired and always made sure at least one among us was separated from the gang during class hours) that she’s hidden under our bench, only to be discovered and thrown out by the teacher!

Edited to add this after this memory suddenly came back: We’ve lurked around after school hours, waiting for all the teachers to leave, then gone behind the school building and tried to understand what’s the ‘cool’ factor about smoking ;) After a puff each and volleys of coughing fits and teary eyes, we ran off into the girls’ loo when we heard our PT master demanding who the smoker was (he saw smoke, apparently!) A poor 7th grade boy got caught and interrogated [they did the spell smell-check on him, but he came off clean :D], but no one ever figured out!

We’ve bunked school to attend the “La Fest” (an inter-school fest conducted by Loyola School in Trivandrum, every year), in spite of being warned against it by our class teacher–and then disappointed her by bringing her leave letters signed by our parents that actually said “Was unable to attend class since I wanted to attend La Fest”, instead of a cooked up “fever” story :D

Long story short, we’ve been the perfect ‘undisciplined gang of girls’ at school (and SO NOT proud about it now :( ) By the time we passed out of school, we ‘grew up’ and vowed we’ll become better people. All that took to make us better people was to get the 3 of us going in 3 different ways :D

We still get back to being the ‘undisciplined gang of girls’ whenever we meet (though we pretend to be civilised). All of us were mad enough on the other’s wedding and instead of gifts, presented the ‘bridegroom’ with condolence messages (through the bride of course! who wants to give away the disaster that’s in store :D)!?

I can’t believe she’s going to be a mom! I can only pity the poor baby that’s on its way (am done pitying the husband by now ;) ). Love you girl! Can’t wait to see you!

How to lose about 300 people in a matter of minutes.

Yea…you read that right: not pounds/kgs, but people!

I had had a long day at work yesterday, and had asked the husband to come all the way to my office and pick me up! The princess that I am, I refused to go home in an auto/bus. I had to have my chauffeur! Fed up of work — or rather, the lack of it — at a good-for-nothing office, he was already in a bad mood. Having to drive that extra mile amidst unrelenting traffic, and then, waiting for me outside my office forever (to which he’s become accustomed) did very little to cheer him up!

Which is when the thought of food came in—always the catalyst for a cheerful time!  So we went to a much-hyped Mallu restaurant near our place in Koramangala, Bangalore. Bad food, pathetic service, big-time delay and a high price tag. Did nothing but drive the husband deeper into the dumps!

A pack of VCDs had arrived earlier the evening (a few classic Mallu movies the husband had ordered from Moser Baer over the Internet), and i thought, “what better than a good movie to cheer up my movie freak” :)

So we reach home, settle down and decide to watch a movie — when he starts groping around in his pockets, beneath the cushions, under the sofa…and asks, “Where’s my mobile”?

The husband, when assured that the mobile is safe, usually does not budge from the sofa once seated, unless it’s a life threatening situation (like my heading for the TV with a hockey stick, maybe). But now, he’s up and about, searching for his mobile in all possible places a Sony Ericsson K710i can fit.
We call to his number from my phone and it says “The Airtel customer you’re trying to reach is currently out of reach…”. Momentary solace, hoping its way under the thick cushions of the sofa. Until I say that I’d heard a ‘thud’ when we turned the corner right after leaving the restaurant.

And then, pandemonium. Quick call to the restaurant: negative. Quick trip to the restaurant: negative. Not-so-quick survey of the entire lane: negative. Mobile lost: positive! And that was it. He seemed to have lost all interest in life (I wonder where I fit in ;) ).

So, here’s how you lose about 300 people in a matter of minutes! Simple. Lose your mobile phone! :D

Am sure the husband won’t be empathetic to my ‘simple’ analysis. He had to learn it the hard way, poor thing :( The thought of having lost about 250 odd contacts, many photographs and close to a million “I love you” messages I’d sent seemed to paralyse him :(  How many contacts have I lost? How will I get back all those numbers?

And I say, “Call Airtel CC and  block your SIM. Ask them if we can get your mobile traced…isn’t there some IMEI number we can use?” The number is duly blocked and he promised to issue a duplicate SIM immediately, but the smart CC guy says the ‘Trace your lost phone with the IMEI number’ service is not available in India!

More depression and irritation. “Suraj, the sun” had set for a while :D [Perhaps this is what a baby goes through on Day 1: the world knows its identity, but the poor baby knows none!]

Which then made me wonder how much we all rely on that little gadget called a mobile phone (“we” does not include me; i rather believe mobile phones should be left wherever you please…and allow it to ring till it dies)

We no longer remember the phone numbers like we used to (of course, it’s much tougher to keep track of 8 digits compared to those cute 5-digit numbers :D); we no longer jot down numbers on quaint, alphabetical diaries; we no longer rush from our seat to attend that call on the phone resting on that antique corner stool (we’d rather the mobile phone rush to us: it’s ‘mobile’ for a reason!); we no longer scribble our loved one’s birthdays on our wall calendar; we no longer have use for that round little thing lovingly called an ‘alarm clock'; in fact, we’re in a stage where we wish everything could be located with a “missed call” !

Biting nails when boredom strikes are a thing of the past: it’s the mobile phone we play with.

Reading random magazines at the dentist is passé: why that, when we have games on our mobile phone?

Receiving no calls for one full continuous hour could only be because the battery has run out; not because you’re indispensible :D

Owning a mobile is mandatory for anyone who wants to fall in love.

Etiquettes matter only at meetings and at the table; whoever said mobile phones come with a set of etiquettes? (Of course, I got a thick free etiquette book; but I sold it along with a stack of old newspapers! :D) If you are the proud owner of a mobile phone, the following are OK:

  • Letting it ring insistently with that irritating ringtone (while you grope for it in the darkness) at the theatre
  • Talking on it while in a flight (endangering other passengers as well) unless the pilot threatens to jump out with his parachute
  • Fiddling with the “End” button, only to change your mind, accept the call and brawl into it with a “In a meeting; will call back later… Oh, that! Man, that was funny…hehhehehe…ooops…in a meeting; will call back later!”
  • Waking up people from their sleep to say “Oh…did I wake you up? Sorry, didn’t notice the time… So, how’s life?”
  • Talking animatedly on the mobile phone while crossing the road, and getting (not just oneself) others too into danger
  • Talking loudly (not to mention the loud ringing) in libraries, hospitals, air-conditioned public vehicles and everywhere else!
    ………..
  • And a dozen other irritating stuff!

For someone who’s damn careless and absented about all things, and mobile phones especially, I’ve never lost one: so, I don’t know the agony of losing it. In fact, on those days that I forget to carry it along to work, I experience a particular sense of peace and calm — of not having to attend calls, respond to messages and ensure it’s not misplaced ;)

I wonder how we (rest of the world excluding me) lived when the mobile phones didn’t exist! ;) It’s a ‘maaranam’ (evil) we can’t live without, now!

Any special mobile stories, folks?