Tag Archive for 'No good'

Sikkim’s worst earthquake

It was a rainy sunday morning on the 18th and since we’d woken up late, we’d nearly put off our plans for sightseeing to Namchi’s Samdruptse and Solophok which is about two and a half hours from my place. We reached Namchi, South Sikkim about midday and spent the rest of the day there. We headed back home to Singtam in the evening when an earthquake of 6.8 richter scale hit our small state of Sikkim at around 6 pm. Ironically, we didnt really feel the quake since we were in the vehicle but we did see many people on the way running out of their homes in panic and several people outdoors along the highway. I assumed that a fight had broken out and we didnt bother to stop by and ask what was happening.

A few kilometres ahead, several vehicles came to a stand still and we had to stop because of the traffic jam. It was then terrified people all around us started talking about a huge earthquake that rocked the entire place and also caused a landslide right in the middle of the road. I could make out from the people’s petrified faces that they were really scared out of their wits and one lady even said that the quake had washed away her small wooden house in a landslide. The drivers of the vehicles ahead of us gathered the men and they ended up removing a small portion of the rocks which allowed us enough leeway to cross the road. We then proceeded our journey while I started frantically dialing our families to ensure they were ok.

Unfortunately, the mobile networks were totally jammed and none of us could get through to anyone. Then out of nowhere, my colleague got through my phone and said that the earthquake was so devastating that couple of buildings in Singtam had buckled down and that some people had succumbed to their deaths and several were injured who were being taken to the nearest hospitals. He also informed that the quake had hit Gangtok equally hard and that the devastation was state-wide.

I sent a silent prayer to god to keep our families safe and tried calling them again and again but to no avail. That was perhaps the darkest moment of our lives, when we didnt know if our loved ones were safe or not. It was only after about half an hour later that our phones started working and we talked with our families in Gangtok and were reassured that they were safe.

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Do’s and dont’s to die for


Update: This post was selected by BlogAdda for this week’s ‘Tangy Tuesday Picks’ Dec 29, ’09 :)

Becoming a parent is easy when you have such clear instructions; found at this site which I dont know if they’re really serious or just want to make everyone’s day for a change:

Apparently, you cannot lift a baby by its head. If you didnt know that already. You could try but be aware of the red triangle with the exclamation mark. Dont go by the baby’s neutral and almost-pleasant expression.

This is for the dads-to-be. Remember – if you burn your tongue over too-hot milk, you have only yourself to blame for!

This is for the mum-to-be. Remember – a chicken leg does not equivalent a feeding bottle. No matter how happy you are to feed your baby this way!

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Oh lazy brain

Many people asked me as to why I havent written anything in my blog till now. And by many people, I mean at least 3. I replied, “I dont have anything to write about”.

In retrospect, is that really true? Have I nothing to say left anymore? That cant be right since I havent stopped chattering nineteen to the dozen, 24X7 and dont seem to run out of ideas vocally. So why should typing be a different story?

I have resolved to stop playing silly online games that sap up my online time as well as my train of thoughts which leave me no time to do precious little. Let the dust cloths be pulled off this poor blog and may no one suffer from sneezing allergies as we do so.

Brain, I command you to write – starting NOW.

In dog years, I’m dead

thirty

Today is the last day I will be able to say I am 29. There are very few instances in life when one wants time to stand still and I figure this is definitely one of them. Its surreal leaving the 20′s behind and turning old is cruel, nay excruciatingly painful. Who knew this day would one day arrive.

I was ranting about the very same thing to a friend of mine who had an interesting thing to say: 30′s are the best years of one’s life. According to him, the 20′s are when you’re discovering yourself; maybe experimenting with things, pleasant or otherwise. And a whole lot of drama naturally involved.

On the contrary, the 30′s are when you’ve accepted who you are and you finally learn to make peace with yourself. You know what you want and dont; and basically live life as per your choices and no one else’s.

This made a lot of sense to me. And if at all, what he says is true, I can stop fussing about a number that decides how old I should be because facebook says I’m mentally only 13.

Here’s to three decades well spent. I didnt want to turn 30 but looks like time had other plans!

To being thirty. And (hopefully) stopping the count at that and no, I dont mean anything drastic like dying within this year.

30 and none the wiser. And we shall live happily ever after.

Torture parlour

I’ve begun dreading the mandatory visit to the local beauty parlour. And its not as if one can do anything about it since you have to be extra careful with scissor-happy females who hold the power to give you a really bad haircut. And make you look like a freak in the flick of a wrist.

Most of the times, I’m always unfortunate enough to get attended upon by an overtly talkative lady who tries to be your new best friend and give you tips on any subject ranging from blackheads to a happy married life. And they have to speak through a bubble gum to make it as worse as possible.

The fellow gossip-starved clients dont help much either. In fact, both of them team up to churn yard after yard of gossip that smothers everyone around and which although is interesting to listen to for a while but may get real bitchy after a point of time.

Another problem is my specs. They ask me to remove my glasses for the hair cut after which I cant make out what the hell’s going on back there. My hairstyle then automatically depends on the one who is cutting them and by the time she finishes her job and asks me to inspect (with my glasses back on), its usually too late to not like whatever she has just done. Another reason for me and blind people to be nice to the hairdresser.

Eyebrow threading is another task I do not care for much and always squirm with pain whenever the lady rips it off with a vengeance that makes me question her sanity. And as if that wasnt bad enough, I once had the lady press up to me so much that I swear, if she had been pregnant, I could have heard the baby’s heart beat.

The beauty parlour has transmorgified into a torture parlour for me where the moment I enter, I am pointed to a seat and a ton of magazines are automatically dumped on me that feature skinny models with glowing skin and really nice hair.

Oh yeah, as if the trip to the torture parlour itself wasnt bad enough.

I’m willing my hair not to grow back on. Or accept the option to look shabby for the rest of my life. Or gift my hairdresser something really expensive.

P.S. I know this post probably wont make much sense to the guys who all they know of the mysterious beauty parlours is the front door and the sign which says - Men not allowed inside. If you thought waiting outside forever for your girl to emerge was bad, let me tell you, being indoors isnt a lot of fun either. At least for me!

Obsession

obsession

I realized that I’m prone to obessions. It amuses me to think that I listen to the same song ten times at a stretch, I play the same game for weeks now so much so that I havent checked my mail, my precious blog and what the heck does real life mean, anyways?

Looking back, I screwed up quite a lot. Apologies to:

  • My best friends who had a baby boy recently. I still havent visited them yet.
  • My baby sister turned 7 this month. I missed her birthday.
  • Also missed two of my best friends’ birthdays. Arrgghh.
  • My dog’s eating grass. This means she’s probably sick. Nothing done about it yet.

I’ve got to start doing things in order of their importance.

And I’ve got to stop believing that descending is also an order.

Did you watch Delhi 6?

delhi-6

I did today and I’m torn between deciding whether I liked it or not. Prior to the movie, I had no idea who was in it, who had directed it or what was it all about. Now that I’m done watching it, I got to know that:

  1. Well known actors from other previously successful movies have been cast in the movie. Therefore, there are a lot of familiar (read: stereotyped) faces assembled together to work their magic. Now I’m not against people finding work or anything but maybe some new faces would have eradicated the sense of deja-vu throughout the film.
  2. The movie’s about portraying the age old charm of Delhi. No wait, its about religious differences. But there is also romance and family drama and the Taj Mahal! And about 10 other topics that were feel-good but crammed into a 3 hour visual that couldnt decide which topic to focus on at best.

The movie starts when Abhishek Bachchan’s grandmom is diagnosed with old people’s disease(s) in the US and she insists on going back to Delhi so she can die at home. They land in Delhi airport and are immediately introduced to the tales of The Monkey Man on TV, who made several real-time news headlines sometime back by attacking people in the streets of Delhi.

In the meanwhile, our hero meets the object of his affection and does weird things like interfere in her arranged marriage proposal meetings to slapping a local cop back in reply thereby landing in jail briefly.

Heavy focus is given on the we-all-love-each-other Indian togetherness where people totally unrelated to each other do things like take granny to the hospital not to mention feeding her porridge at night. Neighbours love each other explicitly thus even though own brothers put up a wall in their house to live separately albeit under the same roof.

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Dont know, dont care

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I hate family gatherings. The last time I was in the midst of one, at least six people commented on the way I looked, talked or even breathed for all I knew. They had a gala time being boisterous and smart mouthing about most things which they’d never be able to say out loud in the real world, at least thats what I inferred.

Almost every person beckoned me over and asked – Did you recognize me? Heck, I dont even recognize the same person I met six months back and we’re talking about years and years of reunion here. The only option was to bare my teeth and nod furiously saying – Of course I do! How can I forget.

For instance, I was summoned by someone who’s my great aunt, when in truth I couldnt tell the nature of our relationship to save my life. I walked up to her and a couple of her friends sitting inside, assumed what I felt was a respectable position and then started getting grilled about my life since I was born to 30 years hence.

Then suddenly, this lady at her right snorts out of the blue – Hah, now she doesnt recognize me! Do you know who I am? DO YOU!?!

I assured her that I didnt.

(I didnt want to start knowing her anyway since she seemed to get real angry by this point)

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The lunch that wasnt

A friend called me for lunch yesterday. It was some holiday so it was also a wednesday off from work. I had no plans and was looking forward to a day of pleasant nothingness. Lunching at her place meant a two hour travel but I thought, what the heck – she’s called me early in the morning (at 7:30 am to be precise) and kept asking me to get there as early as possible AND that she’d make lunch.

I’m game for free lunches as much as the next person so sure, I was in. Reached her place by 12 noon and started chatting. Drank two cups of tea (in huge mugs) and was thinking – its nice to catch up after ages. Thats when two of her cousins arrived and she walked off to talk with them. Leaving me alone, sitting and waiting for a long time AND feeling slightly neglected. Also start feeing hungry around the same time.

“What do you want to have for lunch? Noodles or roti?” asks my friend emerging from nowhere.

I am hoping either of them are already cooked since the last time I looked at the clock, it was already 1 pm.

“Noodles will be fine.” said I.

 ”Its meat noodles, isnt it?”

“Oh you wanted meat, huh? Okay, I’ll tell the cook to chop up some”.

Again, the last time I checked, I was and still am a pure non vegetarian.

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While we celebrate diwali

One of my friends wondered – as to why the festival of light is confused with the festival of sound. I agree wholeheartedly with him. Now, dont get me wrong – I love diwali, who doesnt? The lights, the sweets, the merriment and most importantly – some days off from work. I might as well add festival bonuses too while I’m at the subject. The only thing that I dont like about it is – yes, the noise.

Some of my married friends say that their kids love bursting crackers so therefore cannot completely opt for a noise-less diwali. Good point there. We as kids too loved all the magical fireworks so naturally I can understand their, i.e., the kid’s point of view.

What I’m not down with is the totally inconsiderate cracker-bursting spree thats rampant on the streets, localities and almost everywhere one walks past by. Like last night when we went out to buy some sweets, people were bursting crackers right in the middle of the highway as well in the market.

One fool of a kid burst a particularly loud cracker (that one’s called a chocolate bomb here – I dont what its called in your city) right in front of our moving car – we had to hit the brake all of a sudden and ended up swerving the car a bit. Thankfully, the street was empty or else there’d have been an accident. Stupid, idiotic kids who dont have anything better to do.

Then, when we finally reached the market, I opened the door to get out and BANG! goes a cracker right at my feet. I get a near-heart attack and end up cursing the kid with the small brain who was responsible.

Why I’m talking about this now is because when a friend of mine wrote about this same topic in her blog a few days back, I didnt really think much about it. I was more like – well, if people want to burst crackers, what’s stopping them… I’ll have wool in my ear anyways – But after yesterday, I feel strongly about people at least being responsible for supervising kids bursting crackers.

Besides the rant, happy diwali to everyone. Hope you dont get assailed by treacherous crackers out of the blue and may you not have to visit an ENT doctor the day after too.

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