greeting the milkman

so my mum decided that the only way i could not get any more fatter was by dragging me out of my comfy bed and sending me to get the milk..the timing of the milk delivery dai was also perfect...he had to go to his home village for some five days...mmm...makes me think though...so where was I...oh yes, Out of my comfy BED.

sleepy eyed, i stepped out of my house and started to unravel the morning glories that is sung about so much. some neighbors were already awake and busy, while somewhere i could hear a pressure cooker going off! it is 6:30 am!!! i decide that i will never be able to understand. some girl sees me and smiles...i smile back my sleepy smile |)...haha.

with the slippers patting away, my eyes are still half closed. we have a short cut to the place where the milk is delivered which takes you inside a field owned by NARC. the poplar leaves swoosh here and there as i swoosh in my sleep walk. i love those trees, sturdy and completely oblivion to the horns and hordes of vehicles sweeping by from the opposite roadway. yep, my view of the wide, endless blue sky is interrupted by bike horns and a messed up array of concrete houses. but i gaze back at the endless sky and smile...wide, awake smile 8).

i start noticing that there are people already lined up for the milk...not exactly people..but their bottles on the road, lying in the ground and making sure that nobody picks them up and throws them away. mmm...so i meet this aunty who tells me that it is not necessary to stay in the line...as if anybody is going to follow the line...so i decide that i better stick to the pros in it.

some group of oldies are talking about the World Cup and how argentina was way too proud and that is what it deserved...it just made me feel how people are always ready to criticize a defeat of a champion blaming their pride got on their way...but guess what...there are no lousy winners...pride always sticks along...ok let me make it clear here, i do not support any team...however i make it clear that i do not have the vanity to sit in front of the television screen and criticize over someone's failure and gloat over the other's victory..something that i will never comprehend. anyways, the line of the bottles was getting longer and there came the shining cart holding two big jars of fresh ( i do have a doubt about the freshness) milk, the milk man, an officer and a guy who marks your name. so i decided i better stay in the line with my bottle. so, as the line progressed, a women (apparently a newbie like me) decided to not join the line and stand along the first comers...which was not tolerated by some men at the back...someone from my back complained and i sensed this was going to be a very interesting morning for me. so this woman shouts back that "nobody follows the rule. if only a rule is made for everyone to stand in the line....blah blah blah"...which ticks off everyone, even me i have to say...so this another guy retorts "the whole nation does not have any rule!!!"...(classic metaphor here i say!)..the discussion heated up and finally another man raised some angry voice to which...i still do not believe...yep....to which the woman used a classic "male domination" feminist angle!!!!!! Poor guy!!!! i could not believe my ears that the woman got down so low that she had to take the support of a voice that is meant for the empowerment and upliftment of those women who are left behind in development...and she definitely did not look like one..with gold studded pote and caked up face!! OMG...that moment, i was ashamed of her!

i thought the discussion would end up harshly however, the woman was almost shooed away out of the line and my turn arrived. i diligently told my father's name and the milkman poured in 1 litre milk ( my first fruit of labor). i whispered a thank you...to which the milk man responded with a loud, clearly audible WELCOME!!

Made my day :)

how to write a book

as i was browsing through the net, i stumbled upon a youtube video on "how to write a book"! yippi to those who were waiting for this very video to come out!!! that is what i was waiting for...i mean....i always wanted to be a writer and wanted to learn how to write a book and was in desperate need of a video manual that will be able to transform me into a write!!! yippi!!!!

seriously???

i mean seriously????

when did writing a book become a youtube manual from a spontaneous creative act? beats me!

i mean if i had know this was so "out there and easy to get"...i would not have wasted my 20 years of creative thinking time...lamenting over what and how of it, trying to come up with something that would really be of an artistic value...if i only knew....i would not have treasured it in my dream-trunk...and if i only knew i would not have scribbled all over my note copies, lecture notes and what not....i would have simply typed "how to write a book" and become a writer!!!!!!

and while i was oblivion to this miracle video, i guess everyone where watching this..like rowling maybe....you never know!

argh! the video is loading...does this mean that i wont be able to become a writer if i have a slow internet connection! oh god, enough with the darwinism...!!!!

25 percent loading...

30 percent writer....

40 percent loading....

59 percent writer..........

75 percent loading...

90 percent loading.....

99 percent writer.......

ZAP!

(shit the lights went off!)

its tough to be me...

oh its tough to be me...i tell you...what with the constant self doubt and loathe and complete wacked out sense of life...i think it is pretty tough to be me....OH JUST GET OUT OF YOUR BUBBLE...today was one of those horrible days when you have to face the reality and you know how much privileged you are and complaining is just lame....ya that is me...lame and that is why it is tough to be me....sigh...

i was waiting for the microbus, my friends laughing at one of the jokes A had made. ( i am just making this stuff..there was no joke and no laughing ..just the waiting)....ya so by the time two or three of the microbuses had come and gone....none of those carrying me in....a boy aged 9-10 came forward and asked for some money...i know i know you might think....awww....one of those ragged looking boys with dirty hands and feet and hungry....oh how could i not give him money right? ok now is the time to face the vanity and hypocrisy that i live with...i have the money to go into a pretty decent restaurant and have samosa chaat, i have some money to lend to my friend, i might even have money to buy an extra pen or a cute post-it or a new designed rubber band....ya...i might even have some 10 or 15 rupees somewhere in my pockets....but then here i decide to claim.."babu paisa chaina...dont have money...jau ..go....ask someone else...."....shit...

does this mean that and does this mean this is not what i want to ask or any of that sort....he literally went down to his knees and begged for some money...they have become pretty professional at that....he begged and was at a point of harassing me down...making me so uncomfortable that i finally said..."ok...here..i will give you some money"....i took out two rupees coin and handed him over...AHA....he moved one to another girl.....is it just me or are those boys always after girls....correct me if i am being way too gender biased. or am i trying to turn the table on my side....well whatever it is...

so after i made it sure that i had wasted a complete 2 rupees on a boy who would go down and buy the dendrite tube and smoke it out...PUFF....PUFF went all my complaints and vanities and sanities and i could think of nothing...nothing that could justify what had just happened. i felt terrible. i felt weak and i felt meek and i felt sick and i felt thick...thick with my needs and my desires and my petty purse that i carry around...

they smoke cause they want to numb the feeling of hunger, they fall down to the knees so that with them shedding away their shame we become ashamed...they know life in streets is not what the deal was...but they know streets is where they will get a space to sleep...and i know that my writing this story here may be able to pacify the guilt feeling and the lameness that i have to live with but i also know that the next time one of those boys will beg to me, i will again take out a 2 rupee coin and try to get him off me as soon as i can....

therefore it is pretty tough to be me....with my lame vanity, insane sanity...but it must be tougher to be out there in the streets....

does it make sense

ok.

so it seems like i am not much of a blogger and i really do think that it is no use that i keep a blog and waste virtual-ink. i always knew i had that "buy-more-stationery-than-i-need" syndrome but i was always on denial...creating a virtual blog opened up my eyes.

after creating this blog, one might think it has been a life changing experience for i have gotten to share this virtual space with many and this is the very proof of my existence..however, it has done nothing to me...(can i bluntly put that that way?)...and to add to this completely foolish thing that i have started...the power-cuts are not much of a help to encourage blogging habit for me.

and for me to add and entry in this blog, someone else has to question me "what is happening to your blog?" and that is when i remember that i have a blog!

oh i just checked the TO DO: blog and it is pretty cool, especially when i am feeling quite low...i go through its content and it just makes me realize..."damn..that's it..so simple" but then the anesthetic effect lasts for 5 seconds and while the page is loading to another picture, my brain completely recovers from that short lapse of sensibility that struck me and again...the same reasoning, the same justification, the same grumbling and the same "plutoed-wongi".

i do not know if i even make any sense but then it never made sense to me and it never will,

till then,

so long,

ta-ta

^~~~^