My hair was long at one point in time. It is not anymore.
I met a very nice librarian who I had not met in quite a while, and she was clearly surprised at the short hairdo.
L: My! You're looking so different!
Me: Yes, I know. How are you?
L: You're looking very cute.
Me (feeling quite chuffed): Thank you! I quite like it too.
L: In fact, you're looking better like this than you did before.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Pollution Control
There are women in this world who have particularly annoying voices.
You know the kind - screechy, loud, grating on the nerves.
I'm sure they're lovely people when you get to know them, but I don't care to. Especially since several of this variety seem to be packed into one tiny space, that is the women's first class compartment on the Panvel local train to Andheri.
I can't miss this train, because if I do, it means changing two trains in order to get to work and I am nothing if not practical (= lazy) when it comes to public transport.
So the only option I have is to be squished up against four other women, all of who insist on narrating, re-telling, discussing and in one case, re-enacting (I kid you not) the most mundane and boring episodes of their lives, which in all probability they had discussed the day before...when I was also an unfortunate audience.
Ear plugs.
I need ear plugs.
You know the kind - screechy, loud, grating on the nerves.
I'm sure they're lovely people when you get to know them, but I don't care to. Especially since several of this variety seem to be packed into one tiny space, that is the women's first class compartment on the Panvel local train to Andheri.
I can't miss this train, because if I do, it means changing two trains in order to get to work and I am nothing if not practical (= lazy) when it comes to public transport.
So the only option I have is to be squished up against four other women, all of who insist on narrating, re-telling, discussing and in one case, re-enacting (I kid you not) the most mundane and boring episodes of their lives, which in all probability they had discussed the day before...when I was also an unfortunate audience.
Ear plugs.
I need ear plugs.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
She What???
Conversation regarding a common friend.
N: Yeah, she's gone home right now, but she'll be back soon 'cause she's a lecherer at the college..
Me: You mean she goes there to look at cute young guys in the canteen?
N: No, she teaches there...
*Taking a moment*
Me: Ahhh... she's a lecturer....
N: Yeah, she's gone home right now, but she'll be back soon 'cause she's a lecherer at the college..
Me: You mean she goes there to look at cute young guys in the canteen?
N: No, she teaches there...
*Taking a moment*
Me: Ahhh... she's a lecturer....
Follow the Lines
Everyone attributes India's lack of progress to the poverty, the population, the corruption etc. And they're all wrong.
The real reason that we can't get it right is because of our skewed sense of logic.
Case in point:
I get off the train after work and go to buy a railway timetable so that I knew what quarterly pass to buy. I've never bought a timetable before, but went to (what I thought) the most logical place - the railway station counter. I was informed there, after standing in the line behind 10 people, that the timetables were only sold on the platform.
Having experienced the grumpiness of the station counter attendants before, I decided to go to the office and make absolutely sure.
It was here that I was casually informed that the railway timetables were indeed only sold on the platforms.
So in essence, the only way to get the timetable was to buy a platform ticket, then go to the bookstore on the platform, purchase the timetable (Rs 8 for anyone who's interested) and then come back to the station counter and buy the railway pass for where I wanted to go to in the first place.
Needless to say, by the time I went to the platform, got the timetable and came back, the counter that sold the pass was closed.
On the way home, the rickshaw driver didn't have any change.
Figures.
The real reason that we can't get it right is because of our skewed sense of logic.
Case in point:
I get off the train after work and go to buy a railway timetable so that I knew what quarterly pass to buy. I've never bought a timetable before, but went to (what I thought) the most logical place - the railway station counter. I was informed there, after standing in the line behind 10 people, that the timetables were only sold on the platform.
Having experienced the grumpiness of the station counter attendants before, I decided to go to the office and make absolutely sure.
It was here that I was casually informed that the railway timetables were indeed only sold on the platforms.
So in essence, the only way to get the timetable was to buy a platform ticket, then go to the bookstore on the platform, purchase the timetable (Rs 8 for anyone who's interested) and then come back to the station counter and buy the railway pass for where I wanted to go to in the first place.
Needless to say, by the time I went to the platform, got the timetable and came back, the counter that sold the pass was closed.
On the way home, the rickshaw driver didn't have any change.
Figures.
Friday, June 5, 2009
10...9....8...7
It is no secret that I am obsessively punctual. Everyone who knows me kinda-sorta well, will tell you that I like to be on time, in some cases, even a little early.
From a very young age, I noticed that if my parents were to go out at 8:00 p.m., my father would be showered, dressed, perfumed and combed by 7:45. My mother was deciding what to wear by 7:55. Needless to say, I take after my father in this respect. I also got his nose, but that's a story for another blog post.
I was at school early, I was at college on time, I went to meetings before anyone else showed up, and I could never, EVER be the one to make a dramatic, late entrance for a date, no matter how hard I tried. I was always there, tapping my foot, glancing at my watch - as if I had somewhere else to be!
I can count on one hand the number of times that I've been late to important, or even semi-important events. And the reasons for these usually have something to do with me getting a ride with someone else, or waiting for someone to get ready.
Which is why I simply cannot understand why some people are consistently late. I have lost friends, respect for colleagues and love for family members because of their belief that time is elastic.
So for all of you who continue to piss me off with your tardiness - buy a watch. Look at it from time to time. Get an alarm clock if you need it. Leave early, not five minutes before somebody is expecting to meet you when you know fully well that it will take you an hour to get there. Understand that "I'm sorry, you know how Bombay traffic is..." is not a good enough excuse when you use it nine times in a row. I know how bad the traffic is too, which is why I left on time!
No matter how little your respect for your own time, understand that other people have places to be and things to do, or at least I like to think so! So for the sake of sustaining my illusion, be on time.
From a very young age, I noticed that if my parents were to go out at 8:00 p.m., my father would be showered, dressed, perfumed and combed by 7:45. My mother was deciding what to wear by 7:55. Needless to say, I take after my father in this respect. I also got his nose, but that's a story for another blog post.
I was at school early, I was at college on time, I went to meetings before anyone else showed up, and I could never, EVER be the one to make a dramatic, late entrance for a date, no matter how hard I tried. I was always there, tapping my foot, glancing at my watch - as if I had somewhere else to be!
I can count on one hand the number of times that I've been late to important, or even semi-important events. And the reasons for these usually have something to do with me getting a ride with someone else, or waiting for someone to get ready.
Which is why I simply cannot understand why some people are consistently late. I have lost friends, respect for colleagues and love for family members because of their belief that time is elastic.
So for all of you who continue to piss me off with your tardiness - buy a watch. Look at it from time to time. Get an alarm clock if you need it. Leave early, not five minutes before somebody is expecting to meet you when you know fully well that it will take you an hour to get there. Understand that "I'm sorry, you know how Bombay traffic is..." is not a good enough excuse when you use it nine times in a row. I know how bad the traffic is too, which is why I left on time!
No matter how little your respect for your own time, understand that other people have places to be and things to do, or at least I like to think so! So for the sake of sustaining my illusion, be on time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)