Memories of a 5th grader

Before you start reading this post, please scroll down and read the disclaimer (it’s in italics, grey) in the post right below this one ๐Ÿ˜€ (I’m sure you’ll have to read it for quite sometime from now on!)

My “online time” is lesser than the state’s monthly ration allowances! The maximum I get to do these days is open Gmail, open Orkut, open WP and then log out before I can do anything useful! I was succumbing to unknown mighty forces that are against me being online — and had almost become used to it…until yesterday!

A chat box opened up in my Gmail and asked “Remember me?” After initial moments of ๐Ÿ˜ฏ , I was thrilled! It was an old, old, ooooooold classmate. We shared a class, a bench and our friendship in 5th Std! And then we’d lost touch. A few years ago, when I’d started my Orkut account, I’d searched for her, but wasn’t lucky. And now, here she was.

We had a few long gaps amidst one liners…14 years is a long long time — and if you think there’d be lots of stuff to catch up on when you meet such an old friend, let me tell you, there’s none! ๐Ÿ˜€ We had no clue what to talk about…other than one-liner replies to “Where are you these days?” and “What you up to?” and the like. And well, if you think there’d be nothing to talk about after the first round of such awkwardness, let me tell you, you’re wrong! Hehe…we launched into a trail of “Do you remember whens” ๐Ÿ˜‰ . Oh God! It was the best catching-up I had had in a long time!

We discussed kho-kho games and falling-downs (I hated that game and would always end up bruised; so would she); we discussed about those irate teachers and our incessant chatting (apparently, once we both were asked to sit at two different seats, well away from each other because of our non-stop talking — and I started crying; being the true friend she was, she started off too! ๐Ÿ˜€ ); we discussed a few horrid male classmates with whom we’d always get into a quarrel — and I’d go marching to the staff room to complain, bring back a loud-voiced Sir and get them guys shouted at! ๐Ÿ˜‰

We literally laughed out loud discussing a classmate who never used to touch a girl, for fear of him getting pregnant! Ever if his finger brushed against a girl’s by mistake, he’d bring out his towel and rub “it” all off vehemently! (He’s with Infosys now, though I don’t know why I’ve mentioned it here ๐Ÿ˜€ ). Then there was this Anti-Love Association we’d started — 4 of us friends — against “love” (I still don’t think I was a voluntary member of that ๐Ÿ˜‰ )! Hehe…we used to snoop around, find all sorts of “couples” on campus — well, there was nothing much we fifth grades could do about it — bitch about them majorly! ๐Ÿ˜› There was also another secret society we were members of — but of what, we now got no clue! I only remember tiny visiting cards and a symbol on our thumbs (used to make it by dabbing ink onto the bottom of a sketch-pen and pressing it on out thumbs!)

Apparently, once those horrid male classmates pushed her off the bench and she landed “thud” on the floor, right with her bruise facing the floor. Well, we had our revenges too…we used to stone those guys during our every single badminton sessions! — psssttt…and get stoned by them too! ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

The funniest of all was the recollection of her and myself on stage once — hair all done up and tied with colourful ribbons that matched our dresses — singing away to glory!! ๐Ÿ˜€

Anyway, it was a rather playful walk down memory lane…becoming a 5th grader again, even if for a few minutes, was awesome — and I enjoyed it so very thoroughly! ๐Ÿ™‚ Now, that once-upon-a-time little girl is a stunningly beautiful woman! I was shocked when I saw her picture — and gaped for quite a while! ๐Ÿ™‚

I’m so glad we’re back in touch. 14 years of fun we’d missed. Welcome back, Indu! ๐Ÿ™‚

Revolutions are not for dumb people!

Hey all!

My apologies to each reader of my blog, to the wonderful bloggers in my bloglist, and to those bloggers in whose list I’m honoured to be a part of. My apologies to all of you for neglecting the blog world for some time now. I have not been updating my blog regularly (that too, when the Avant Garde Blogie Awards nominations are happening, damn!), I have not been responding to your comments, and I have not been visiting any blogs either. I’ve been a bad, bad, really bad blogger ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

In my favour, I’d like to say that I have been caught up in a couple of weird things that’s been keeping me busy these days. A computer that logs me out automatically — and shuts down too — when it feels like (leaving me with a really dumb expression each time); a Mom who keeps calling me downstairs every 4th minute; a Dad who remembers he’s got “urgent work to be completed” only when I choose to use the system; a brother who…ummm…naah…can’t really find anything against him ๐Ÿ˜€ ; and a perpetual boredom in life that keeps giving me strange and foreboding signals of my future!

So, that done, let me tell you what happened when I decided to join the most happening Revolution in the blog world!

Today evening, when I woke up after a short nap, I slowly looked around around me. The signs were good. Mom was happily gossipping with her brother and sister-in-law. Dad was chatting up with an old friend (sign that he would not think of ‘work’ for a while). My computer was not acting strange at all!

Time to blog, I realised! I sat down in front of the system and logged into Gmail, Orkut and WP. I waited for 5 minutes. It didn’t log me off! Was I happy! And then, Nikhil called. We discussed “rude bloggers” for a while and he asked me if I’d joined the Commenting is a privilege, not a right! revolution.
I felt really ancient! I didn’t even know about it! ๐Ÿ˜ฆ

Well, though I’d already been in despair about being a bad-blogger lately, he made me furthermore guilty, saying his blog, and many others, had been neglected! “I’m hurt”, he said. ๐Ÿ˜€
I felt sheepish. I’m sure I sounded so too ๐Ÿ˜

I said, “Look, I’d been really busy…I’m sorry…I haven’t been checking any of the blogs lately…” etc etc. He kept saying “I’m hurt! I’m more hurt!” ๐Ÿ˜› Well, to change the topic, I latched on to the Revolution badge — and I asked him to help me put it up.
It was then that I felt like an ancient sheepish dumbo! ๐Ÿ˜€

He explained things over phone to me. “Open a new text widget. Add the code. Save changes…” etc etc. I was awed, wondering how people know such stuff. “It’s basic HTML”, he said. Ahem! that put me in the not-so-knowledgeable-about-basic-stuff category! In spite of having fed the widget with the code, the badge refused to come to life. When he started explaining it all over again, I, like a genius, blurted out that I’d added the code to a widget that was already there.

“What?? You needed to add a little more code, then! I asked you to create a new text widget. You should’ve told me you were adding it in the same old one! I asked you whether you opened a new widget and you said yes! Brilliant! Great! Oh. My. God!”

๐Ÿ˜ฏ I’ve never heard him sound so mad! Of course, he refused to agree that he was mad at me. Politely, instead of saying “How dumb can you be?”, he said “I’m amused”.

Patiently, he explained it all over again — the angel! ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜‰
(While he patiently explained it again, I was kinda ROFL silently! Well, apparently, I was not as silent about it as I should have been ๐Ÿ˜ฆ !)

P.S.: But well, the badge is up! I’ve joined the War-Against-Trolls! ๐Ÿ˜€
And sorry for such a senseless post, people. I’m still in the daze of ‘being screamed at’! ๐Ÿ˜€

Express yourself! Truth is a different issue ;)

AE (Airtel Employee): Hello Madam, I’m calling from Airtel. This is regarding your address verification.

Me: Oh! Ok… (surprised tone, because I took the connection on August 8th…and it’s already October 2nd!)

AE: Madam, this connection is under the name Ajay?

Me: Yes. That’s my brother.

AE: And you are using this?

Me: Yes.

AE: Ok, Madam, I’ll read out the address, please confirm. It is: Ajay, xxx-102, Xxxxxxxx Lane, Xxxxxxxxx, Trivandrum?

Me: Yes, that’s right.

AE: Ok, Madam, does your brother reside at the same address?

Me: Of course, he does.

AE: Ok Madam, could you tell me his address?

Me ๐Ÿ˜ฏ : Whaaaaaatttt ??????

AE: Hello? Ok, Madam, then no need… Madam, you might get a call from our head office, to check on me — to know whether I’d come to your residence for the verification. I’m not coming, but please tell them I came. Could you do that for me, please?

Me: Ahem. (Thinking: ‘Verifier’ being verified by the ‘verifyee’??!!) Sure…why not? Will they ask me to verify your name?

AE: No, Madam. But in case they do, my name is Aneesh.

Me: Deal, dude! (to myself, ๐Ÿ˜‰ )

This happened yesterday…on 2nd October. On Gandhi Jayanthi, on the birthday of the Father of our Nation, on the birthday of that guy who preached non-violence and did weird experiments with TRUTH, I’m asked to bear false testimony!! ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

Right now, am experimenting with my conscience. Do I support AE? Or do I ditch the deal and act shocked if the call comes from his head office??

“Be the change you want to see!”

During those good old school days, October 2 used to be a holiday much looked forward to! Gandhi Jayanthi…yay!!

We used to gear up the previous night itself — with little brooms and knives and hatchets and spades and coir baskets. We used to line up on the streets and clear away the grass and papers and plastic. The next day morning, the streets would be NEAT! All this, for those rounds of fresh, cool lime juice and that feeling of “I’m doing something of importance!” And we’d all proudly show it off to our parents and dig out praises from them ๐Ÿ˜‰

It was something we kids used to religiously take part in, every year — and yes, boast about it next day in class. “I covered almost the entire stretch of road from House No. xa to House No. xm!! Was I tired!” The significance of the act was never questioned.

Once that age passed us by and we entered high school, it became a headache…but for a few more years, we did it grudgingly. “Oh, what’s the point? Clearing the road once a year makes no sense! We should, instead, focus on the nation’s development. Motivate people, instill confidence in them…and create a new mindset in the youth!”

By the time we were college go-ers, it became a nuisance. “Damn! Clean the road? I can’t even dream of getting caught doing such stuff! I’ll lose my image! Anyway, what does Gandhi Jayanthi have to do with cleaning the road? Might as well light up candles, cut a cake and party!”

Today, in most parts of the nation, people with the school-kid mentality still do it. Only, there is no more grass to be uprooted…no more plastic to be cleared…no more papers to be burnt. And people surely needs bigger and stronger volunteers (people with exceptional will power preferred!), bigger spades, huge sacks and trucks to carry off the ‘cleaned up’ mess — wires; spent bomb shells; a hand here; a head there; some must-have-been body part elsewhere; debris of buildings and shops and vehicles — and a well-trained mind that can filter out emotions. But this time, parents don’t praise. They beg these volunteers to steer clear and stay indoors! ๐Ÿ˜€

People with the mentality of the college go-ers think humans are the only grub on earth — and set out with the mission of “cleaning” them off the planet! They make cake-bombs, light it up and have a blast! ๐Ÿ˜€ Yey! Party time! And then the Political Party-s start their merry-making. Oh yea…these volunteers do try their best not to get caught doing such stuff!

People with the high school mentality blog about it! So…

Blog the change you want to see… ๐Ÿ™‚