Ideasyncrasies

I was in the cab on the way to work. If I don’t suffer from the Monday blues, it’s the Monday hunger pangs, but yes, in the cab, when I saw this truCk. The back(side) of the truck to be precise, and it had this LOVELY inscription in Hindi, painted in white. TruCkS always fascinate me, on account of my dream job which is to be a truck driver and traverse all over India and eat at the numerous Dhabas along the way, but ahhh, No more meandering, back to the Truck. This was what was written in Hindi. ‘ GHAR SE BEGHAR HOON, RAASTE SE BAHUT DOOR HOON, JEETA HOON ISILLIYE KE KISI KE MAANG KA SINDOOR HOON’ I like. You like ?

'What book are you reading ?' I just finished India, by Jim Corbett. Now i want to run away to the jungle and skin a leopard. Oh, actually, I'd rather spend the night with a tiger instead. 'Get serious for once. What do you plan to read next? Life is so boring now, i need a good book to dispel this lethargy ya. Need to put myself to sleep every night also. Nothign to do na' You mean you want an excuse to live someone else's life, try making your own a little liveable won't you. Put yourself to sleep indeed ! 'Oh, please, keep your views to yourself, just answer the question, whats next. Which book are you going to eat and shred to bits in your nasty little brain.' Oh, next i plan to read Lolita, by Vladimir somebody. Nobok soemthing, i forgot. I love Russian Literature.Have you read Karenina ? Greatest love story ever. Nothign like that awful Romeo and Juliet. But yes Karenina. Superb ! 'You WHAT ?' I love Russian literature. And please read

Artwork courtesy Uzma Ali. Fantabulous. Please hire her for your newspapers/ mags/Animaxing/ Brownie making.

Money ruins friendships. Unless its your daddy, the friend not only ends up in your list of to be hated forever and ignored, but also, oh my God, He/ She so used me. Want to be surrounded by your regular fan club ? Dont lend, dont borrow. When you lend someone money, you tend to think of your borrowee (im using my blogatic license) but yes, you tend to think of your borrowee as scum. The filth that surrounds your pretty ballerina studs. and ahh, when you borrow money, all you want to do is hide your face and die . i presume. Not good that. Btw Ma, i KNOW you read my blog. How else would you know about the Brownies ? But please, i really meant what i said, i'm going to pretend that noone knows who i am, or that noone reads this anyways, and that applies to all you A's, B's, C's, D's and Dh's that i know. How else will I ever bitch about everyone to everyone and about life to just myself, laugh, mock, scorn, cry and just live atleast a tiny part of my life all to

Yesterday i had it out with my Boss. She fought and i whimpered. yeah so she had it out with me. I'm no chicken but ...oh well, it was my mistake. Apparently we have soemthing called a KPI, which i shall call the Key Pissingoff Index which measures every team's performance. This also decides whether members of that team deserve a promotion. And ha ! Now i know why the dragon was so mad at me. Her salary was getting affected by the things i did NOT do. :D blah ! I wish i was in Goa enjoying the carnival, and courting another bout of jaundice while i leisurely ate chouris pao and all the other unmentionables.

Today was horrible. As usual, nothing new. But i guffawed quiet a bit. I had a colleague ask me to delete something which appeared 'twisely' in the document. And condescending B***h that i am, i replied back, i have deleted the ____ that appeared twisely, now it only shows onsely. !!!! I wonder why is it that people love praise so much. I'm so intensely private that i hate it when people mistake my freindliness for this sort of sign that says' come on in, walk all over me, prod me for everything and treat me like sirt' well...i'm just private. i love my privacy. Being an extrovert, i still don't like people trodding on my toes. PS : despite the jaundice, i had a brownie for dessert after my awful no oil, no spice food. i DONT regret it. And no, there was no icecream :(

There are times when i feel like writing about the people i know, and what i think of them, and why i feel the way i do about something they did, said, or just because of who they are. And then i stop myself, because i know that most of them somehow read my blog and oops! Some of my thoughts are not to be written down for posterity since not everyone has a liver that cna digest 'lohe ke moongfali' to quote my bhaiyya neighbour. lol ! But then again i could say 'A' did this, or i met 'B' the other day. Ha ! as if they wouldnt know who it was i was referring to. And what happens when i have two acquaintances sharing the same initials ? So for a while i'm going to pretend none of you cherished few who read my blog - read my blog. And i shall rant and rave and bitch, oh - and when you meet me pretend you never know what exactly i think about you despite being so sweet and patient to your face. I've never denied that i'm the greatest hypocrite , atleast,

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Ha! I’ll show them woman scorned. How dare he deny me my basic rights? Even after all I’d done for him. To put a cog in the wheels of commerce, unthinkable! That too for a simple Maggi, masala flavoured, and none of that God – awful Atta noodles please…. But let me elucidate. I’d gone down for a walk, since I was so bored no thanks to that darn doc, with his cheerful, opaque, obstinate fat headedness insisting that I’m not fit for public consumption i.e. inflicted with the jaundicees, I shallses not be traipsing aboutses with a happy soul bereft of worry. Back to the walk. While I was getting ready, with a little bit of cash, my pal says, hello! Get me some Maggi while you’re at it. I say ok. I go to the local kirana, posh, stocked with some of the best goods Cadbury’s has to offer, flush with the good stuff. So I say, uncle, Maggi please. He gapes at me like Mopy the moping goldfish, and says, but you have jaundice! No Maggi for you! It’s not go