Finding myself in a cookbook....

Whether you believe me or not there is an annoying side to a grandma. She is not always the one who tells you bedtime stories and makes the best food in the world, or the one who knits you the warmest sweater in the world, or the one who gives you the best oil massage in the world. Sometimes she is just plain annoying. She always treats you like a baby, always tells you what to do, looks at you like you are an alien if you wear jeans for some pooja, and if you dare to walk in front of her in a strappy spaghetti, that's the end of all mankind, for all the Bhagwad Gita's and all the Bible's and the Quran's then come out of the closets and the God is summoned in different languages, just so that, miraculously, a polo neck sweater falls on you and covers your body!!!
My Granny is not as exaggerated as I made all the others out to be, but she isn't very different either. She is almost 5 feet tall, almost 50 kgs, and she almost always forgets what we tell her. She blames me for not tellin her things even if she forgets them herself, and feels , almost insulted everytime I'm not at home for lunch or dinner, and holds it against me until I come home for my next meal and she gets a chance to over-serve me again! She wants to do everything she is told not to, and with every growing year, she is becoming a stubborn, lovable, child, who sometimes just gets on your nerves! She shouts at me sometimes just because she wants some attention, and repeats the same thing a 100 million times, and more until I do it in front of her own eyes!
It was one of those days, when she had told me to do something trivial for the 1500th time already, and I was minutes away from literally pulling out my hair and doing the rain dance, when I found myself.....in a cookbook. She was sitting close to me, looking for new recipes in her almost ancient cookbook, when she took out a little red envelope from page number 159, 'aluchi vadi'. She asked me to look at what she took out of that red envelope. It was an old photograph of me and her on a nice, calm beach in Goa. It was her, younger, stronger, still almost 5 feet and almost 50 kgs, with a big, happy smile, and eyes fixated on me, small, chubby, almost 3 feet, and not to forget, a hilarious hat! When I looked up at her, the only thing she said was, "You and me!" and the only thing I could do to hide my tears was to mask it with a big, happy, smile.

NICE-ITY!

First of all, NICE-ity is not a word, so don't strain your mind, you all are still intelligent. This is just a thing I have been doing for awhile now, and I recently found out it's called neologism! Cool no? An art as stupid as creating your own words and using them on a regular basis, actually has a name of it's own and an identity of it's own in Psychology! Do Not Worry. This entire post is not about this interesting art so please read on.
Sometimes, I am really shocked by the nice-ity in people. In this cynical world, full of cynical people and cynical values there are some genuinely nice people and their existance really shocks me! Now I don't mean to be a preacher here, by saying there are some people who help the homeless and others who take care of the stray dogs, and some who donate extravagantly to charities. I mean the everyday, daily, mediocre, mundane nice-ity! I mean when a person you know allows you to park your car in her parking space anytime of the day or night, just because of your silly insecurities about your car being stolen, it's nice! Or when a friend, who has the prerogative to study whenever she wants wraps up her studies as soon as possible just so that she can lend you the text one day before the exams, it's nice! And when a friend buys you pens minutes before the exams, even when you can't and doesn't even remind you of the money, it's nice! Or when a friend comforts you by entertaining all your frantic calls right before the exam even when in reality your just wasting her time, it's nice! And when a friend spends hours to bake an extra yummy chocolate cake with gems on them just for your birthday because you can't stop talking about the advantages of chocolates in life constantly and are not so subtle with hints, it's really nice! And when a friend walks with you from one place to another in the hot sun to complete YOUR work (even when her work is done), while listening to your insane abuses about the education system, it's nice!
And it's shocking that in my twisted, little life I managed to meet such really everyday, daily, mediocre, mundane and insane NICE people! Love you guys.

Still don't believe me?

Another entry in the 'My life sucks and all bad luck is directed towards me by God for some weird reason which no one can explain' daily journal.
Yesterday night when I was studying for my dreadful spanish exam, there was a robbery in my parking, the bloody ruthless bastards stole the stereo from my zen and my honda city. There are 5 cars in my parking of which two are ours and yet the only two cars that were brutally attacked were ours. I don't mean to be mean to the other car owners, but just thought of taking this opportunity to point out the irony in my life. Some people say it's just a sad coincidence, but these are the people who deserve to be electrocuted because they don't know the frequency with which these sad coincidences occur in my life. For all the criminal minds who care to know how this was done, let me tell you it was a job done with perfection. The guy was a professional, and that was quite evident from the way the window was not cracked but lifted out of the crevice(forgive me if that is not the technical term) and kept aside. I went with my mom to the local police station and we lodged a complaint. We needed the official FIR to submit it to the insurance guys and so when we asked the cops for it, he said, in his own special way, "arey khaane ke baad ekdum hazam hota hai kya???" Me and my mom didn't know how to respond so we just gave him our 'family confused look' and he explained, that we would get the same on monday. The other cop there, the suck-up cop, the one who brings the tea and makes the paan cop, and the one who laughs at every non joke of the 'digestion' cop, said "arey madam wo log 100(sau) ki cheez 10 (dus) me bechta madam, 10 me!!!! kuch mehnat nahi karneka na" Anyway, mom and me knew that we are never going to see our stereo systems again. However out of this I just have one small prayer, that I wish those guys get caught and even if they have sold my stereos for 10, I just hope they get run over by a truck in front of my eyes. No matter how brutal and anti-christish I may sound making this request, 'no me importa' because we service sector people also work hard for our luxuries and it should most definitely not be some shitty ass bastards cheap thrill to steal us off our hard work! There, the first statement pertaining to morality (of many to come mind you) on this blog!
Oh and by the way, gave my spanish written exam this morning, I THINK it was ok, but I dont know for sure, because my answers could most definitely be complete ass talk!!! But the nightmare isn't over yet, as the orals are tomorrow! So, I guess until then I just have to 'Dream On'

This morning I woke up from a horrid dream. Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek were there, even Antonio Banderas was in it, and yet it was a nightmare! It started with me taking a stroll on an extremely crowded street, like Karve road is, and just enjoying the freshly emitted pollutants. When all of a sudden, a sleek, black, Italian car swerves through the traffic, and as I watch enviously, it stops right in front of me after an elaborate skid, and I say to myself, in my head of course, "SHOW OFF!" Before I get time to think any further, the doors swing open and a strong, hairy hand pulls me inside the car, and no one around offers to help (yes I notice trivial issues even in such dire situations) . I look around to find Salma Hayek and Penelope Cruz staring at me with a weird grin. I look ahead to see who is driving us and where we are going, but to my horror there is no driver, the car is working automatically (bloody Italian technology, competing with the Germans!). The weird grins turn into evil laughs! Salma and Penelope start conversing with one another in Spanish, not knowing that I'm learning the language too ( ha ha suckers!!). But, their accent is too strong and their speed is too fast for me to decipher what exactly they said. So much for false spanish pride! What I did understand from their serious tone was that they were pissed off!
I look out of the window, constantly telling myself, "Relax, you just won some competition, they are taking you to the Oscars as a special guest." However, I notice that the only restaurant I can see outside is Taco Bell! I suddenly realise how hungry I am. I think to myself that maybe I will ask Salma and Penelope for a quick snack, in spanish to impress them. I think hard. Harder. In vain. Can't form a sentence, so I supress my hunger. The car suddenly stops. Penelope and Salma poke me from the side, signalling me to get out of the car. I feel a dry, hot breeze on my face and look around to find myself in a place that looked a lot like the set of Desperado. I hear footsteps, so I look up and find Antonio smiling at me while eating a taco. He moves aside, to expose a dug up grave. Utterly shocked, I slowly move closer to the grave to read what is written on the headstone, and I scream in horror to read the following words,
' Shweta Shahade
1987-2007
This is what you get for not attending Span........'
At this point I woke up. Most of my friends analysed this as a pre-exam anxiety, but I think it was plain old hunger!
Oh yes! If you all are wondering whose strong, hairy hand it was afterall, it was Salma. Go watch Frida, you won't blame me for thinking this way after you see her eyebrows in that movie!!!!