political compass

Your political compass
Economic Left/Right: -3.25
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -3.85

I'm apparently a libertarian leftist. Take the political compass test.

bathroom slippers

i had a bath just now. the floor of the bathroom was covered with a lot of those dead insects and i ended up bathing with my slippers on. i just had to say it.

onset of the monsoon

last night it rained, thundered and lightninged (not a word? well, it should be). this marks the beginning of a lot of things - cooler days(hopefully), clothes that don't dry, fungus in my computer's usb ports (whaa..?), getting wet in the rain, colds because of the previous, classrooms smelling of wet sock (ugh), the great evil - mosquitoes, and the lesser evil - i don't know what the are called.

They are these inch and a half long insects which seem to be all wings (2) and no body. really. i once picked up a dead one of these and except for a bit of whatever holding the wings together, there was nothing else. no eyes, no nothing. and they just fly in in droves at the evenings, at around 6ish and bring this wet laundry basket smell with them. a very nausea-inducing smell. and they die in droves too, by the morning. you can imagine the mess we wake up to. for some reason they seem to prefer the wash basin as a fitting place of demise. imagine dragging yuorself out of bed on a saturday morning, picking up your toothbrush, toothpaste, soap and towel, trying to convince yourself that it is not the end of the world that your stomach is trying eat itself, that you have finished half of the bottle of antacid that you bought yesterday and then coming upon THAT sight. there were so many of them that white of the wash basin wasn't visible. enough to make me lose my dinner and breakfast that i hadn't had. i didn't. but it's the thought that counts.

this is what i have to look forward to for the next how many ever days.

do you think anything could depress you more after this? i love the taste of colgate. no reason in particular. it's a childhood thing, i guess. but, for the past week i've had a series of fever, cold, diarrhoea and vomiting and because of that, my taste buds are rebelling at everything, even water. so, when i was brushing my teeth, i found myself very depressed that i didn't like the taste of colgate. i hope it is not a lasting thing.

too happy, to soon.

i spoke too soon. the day of unrepressed mirth was followed by 2 days of pain, agony, suffering and many visits to the bathroom. have you ever had diarrhoea and vomit simultaneosly? do you have any idea what a bloody mess it makes and how difficult it is to clean up? especially in an indian toilet. torture. especially if you weigh as much as half an elephant and haven't eaten much in the past one week. the last real meal i had was 3 days ago and i had soup. i had 2 spoons of curd rice for lunch today and looked at my plate for dinner.

weak, i feel.

laughter therapy

i have been laughing continuously since 12 pm... my stomach hurts, my back hurts and i have been to the bathroom a million times. nothing particularly funny happened. but everything seemed hilarious. have you ever had a day like that? everybody thinks you are crazy, but you just know that it is the rest of world is screwed up... they call it delusions, i call it reality.

it's the best feeling in the world.

hoooraaayyyy

rain drops and roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woollen mittens....

listen to the rhythm of the falling rain, telling me what a fool i've been....

rain drops keep fallin' on my head, and just like the guy who's feeling too big for his boots...

it's rainin' men, halleluja, it's rainin' men, amen....

i'm singin' in the rain, what a glorious feelin'...

the rain in spain stays mainly on the plain...

basically, it rained for about 5 minutes here, and the weather seems a gazillion times better.

bed calls. cheerios.

funny. me

I told a friend here that I find myself very funny and that after I post on this blog, I read it and laugh at my own hilarity. She found it weird. I wonder why. Because I write here for my entertainment and if I can't amuse myself here, then I'm lost.

Why shouldn't I enjoy my own humour? I'm one of the smartest, coolest, funniest people I have had the pleasure of meeting. More on my take on how to make millions, save the world, remove poverty, and kill all bores, all before breakfast - coming soon

head aches

have you ever felt like somebody hands are going in though your eyes and are pushing your brain out through your ears?

not nice

the good thing is that my fever has gone.

Choices

I have to decide my electives by Sunday. I want to major in Marketing and do a little bit of everything else, hopefully some subjects to pull my cqpi up. A lot up. So this morning, one day after I get to this searing heat, a lot of strangers and a room covered by a thin layer of dust EVERYWHERE, I had to start choosing. One would think I would have worked it all out by now, and I had. But the bloody Dean had to put out a schedule in which there are two electives simultaneously in one hour (Hour being a misnomer as one "period" lasts 90 mins, but whatever). And so, I have to choose. I have figured out most of what I want, but I am shit scared; because the courses that I want to take and the courses that will push-push-push my cqpi up seem to be mutually exclusive, though not collectively exhaustive. What am I going to do?

I was supposed to come to Chennai for my cousin's wedding, but that's off; I have so much work to do already! uff, my life!

I ache all over. I have a splitting headache, the type that makes you see red spot in front of your eyes. My palm aches! But that was what would be a "Only Meera" occurance. Why? Because, yesterday, there was sambar-vadai for "snacks" at 5pm. I was hungry and gobbled up the hard-as-rock vadais but the sambar remained. Being in a hurry, I took the plate full of hot sambar and went to sit on the stairs. As God wishes to make my existence full of embarassing moments, somebody jostled my hand, JUST as I had sat down and I spilt the sambar ALL OVER MYSELF! So I went, barefoot (where were my shoes??) and washed it off. Several people told me it looked like I had puked on myself. But it dried up quickly. And then, I wanted coffee. So I got some coffee - boiling hot coffee, and promptly spilt it on my left hand and trousers! So, I burnt my hand, had to wash my trousers all over again, though I had my shoes on this time and had to walk all the way back to the hostel in wet clothes. Funnily enough, only the new students stared, my batchmates all loked at it as just another day in Meera's life. I wonder what that says about me?

But other than that, I'm very ill. Nauseated and in pain. Feel bad for me. I want to be home. I want mushroom soup and six grain toast and tomato chutney and VH1 and my DVD player and everybody there.

The weather is very weird. It is boiling hot during the day and very breezy at night. So I hate it and I love it. Apparently it was a lot worse last week. Goodnight. I feel like shit.

I Heart Comments. Makes me feel Loved.

Damn blogger

I typed out a long post about Batman Begins, but Blogger lost it. More later. No mood now. Movie good.

Going to Bhubaneshwar tomorrow. Wish me luck. See you all whereever, whenever. More from the Wild Wild East.

Ranipet - School and stuff - A long one

I went to Ranipet on Monday evening and I came back to Chennai on wednesday evening. It was a very short visit, but stuff happened.

I went to my school on Tuesday. Yeah, MY school. I was part of the first batch of 12 std to "pass out". I was house captain, daughter of the of two of the trustees of the school, hated the school I previously went to and loved this one. Why? Just because. But I haven't been a very good alumnus of the school. I don't visit often enough and when I do, I don't stay long enough. Why? We'll see.

What I loved most about this school was that it was very open. And not just figuratively. The class rooms on the ground floor alone had doors, and even these were patterned (filigree?) metal doors that you could see through - sort of like those ornamental windows. And on all the other floors, the class rooms had 3 walls and the fourth one was a half wall, facing the corridor and a gap for the door. It was great.

It was a 3 storey (Ground + 2) building that had been a warehouse before its current avatar. People who passed it said that it looked like a cinema theatre from the front. I thought that was very cool.

On the 2nd floor, there were just 6 class rooms, and rest of the space was open. There was a raised platform on one end which served as a stage for in-house and small school productions, festivities and rehersals. There was seating space between the stage and class rooms to seat some 200 people, on the floor. Maybe more. There was a badminton net there, rarely used because it was very windy. The library was also on this floor, over looking the NH4.

The 1st floor was full of class rooms and a creche for the teachers' kids(the ayahs pronounced it creeche, it rhymed with screech). And the staff room. Nothing else on that floor. The ground floor had some more class rooms, two lunch halls for the younger kids, the labs - physics, chemistry, biology and math, the offices and the sports room - a cavity under the staircase. In the past 2-3 years, they have added a new principal's room, a conference room and a few more rooms to the side of the building.

When I was in 11th std. they built a new, small building near the back of the old building, This was a squat, flat building with just 4 class rooms and 2 offices. The terrace had a multi-coloured railing - 4 bars red, next 4 green, then yellow, then black and so on. It was weird, but it grew on us. The older kids (my class and the next in line) were moved in the next year. So that we wouldn't corrupt the kids, I guess. This building had a well next to it, with a rusted iron thing over it.

There was a hill behind the school. It was not much of a hill, but it sort of kept us cool. And we got a lot of wind because of the trees on it. We got a lot more than just wind from it, though. It was a very pretty sight. Imagine driving past a long, cream building, with a sloping roof; a smaller, square building next to it, at the very back, the view almost covered by the trees lining the road; framed by a hill, mostly green, though in very dry summers, it would turn brown. I really like it there.

We had a primate-infestation problem. Monkeys used to come down in droves from the hill during our lunch hour and really, really bug us. The damn creatures were annoying and smart. A scary combination. They very soon figured out where we kept our lunches and it didn't take them long to figure out how to open the boxes. They would lick (yuck!) our lunch boxes clean and leave them on the floor of the class room for us to find when we cam back from lab or worse, PT. Or worse still, they'd throw the empty boxes into the bloody well. The damn well was dredged once a week and we'd alway find a once-missing lunch box in it. Damn monkeys.

No primate infestation this time though. But the place was filled with tiny, brown creatures with high pitched voices and dressed identically. They were called students. aaaaaaaahhhhhhh. I was never that small. NEVER. Anyway, the assistant headmistress (forever Nirmala Miss to me) had asked to to talk to the new 12std class. Me. Talk. To impressionable kids. What was she thinking!? My mother thought it was a good idea (huh?), my father asked me to "be prepared" (wha..?). I got up late that fateful morning, and called up my mother and asked her to send me a car to go to school. No. Not because I am a spoilt brat. I am, but that's not why. It was because my school was 15(?) Kms away from home and very few buses other that the school buses stop there. And it was bloody hot. And I was on a vacation dammit! Ok, so I'm spoilt, bite me.

On the way to school, it hit me that I was going to be facing some 30 kids (17-18 yr olds) and that they are going to be expecting me to actually say something that makes sense. What would I have done 5 yrs ago? I would have expected this stuffed shirt, pompus older person to be awfully boring and would have thought it a terrible way to spend time. BUT, definitely better than doing tests or homework or studying or cramming or taking notes and all that stuff I was expected to do in the 12th yr of school. Miserable time, that was. Anyway, back to the present (more like recent past, but who cares).

So I went about 15mins later than I said I would, met Nirmala Miss (yeah I still call her that. Great lady. I have never seen her not smiling. But formidable still. Chemistry teacher) and Mr.RamKumar, the Principal and had a nice conversation with them. Bhubaneshwar, Chennai, college, school, friends and all that jazz. Then I went around the school with Nirmala Miss and she showed me all the new stuff they had done to the place. I approved. Then she handed me over to Mr.Karmegam (Bio). He took me took the 12th class room (which was on the 1st floor of the 2nd building! when did they build this floor???) and left me to the mercies of the evil, angry girls and boys. Ok. maybe not evil and angry; just looking at me expectantly. Scary.

What happened thereafter shall forever remain between me and them. No, just them. I have repressed those memories. But since I don't wake up at night sweating, with nightmares of pen & pencil yielding zombie teenagers with glowing eyes chasing me up the dark and grim hill, my face getting scratched by the thorny bushes, dripping blood, sweat and tears all over the hill side, we can safely assume that all went well.

It did. They asked me questions about college and I answered as honestly as I could without getting into trouble with the authorities. This went on for about 20 mins. I gassed, and they took it, fully aware that it was gas; nice kids, they were.

And that was that.

I re-read what I have written here, and I realised that I have written only about the place and not the people. My teachers rocked. I studied there only from 8th to 12th. I wish they had started the damn thing earlier. I wouldn't have had to go through the trauma and torture of my earlier school.

My tamil teacher used to make us read out from the text book in class. And sometimes, she made us explain the poetry.It used to be hilarious. Prose was ok, but tamil poetry! Half the time it was as if it was in a foreign languge. And she hated it when I turned up in class without a pottu. She used to make a dot on my forehead with her red pen, in front of the WHOLE GODDAMN CLASS. But, it was all good fun.

My chemistry teacher was awesome. He made organic chemistry come alive. Every thing made sense, it was all so logical and beautiful.

My math teacher was also in charge of my class from the 9th std till 11th. He was brilliant. Funny but if anybody did badly in a test he'd make them feel so bad, without saying a word.

I had several English teachers. The first one was also the principal at that time. The old lady was fabulous. She also taught History. I loved her classes. It was magical. She was funny, sacarstic and knew EVERYTHING. She did, I swear. She was the one who taught me public speaking. She used to make me stand in front of her and make me speak. We had a lot of extempore stuff in her class. The next lady, I don't remember very well. The 3rd was a blind man, who we all thought was just faking blindness. He knew everything that was going on in class - if we passed chits, if somebody wasn't paying attention, if we even looked outside, he just knew. Then we had a cute, short, fair lady who taught us in the last two years. She was a constant source of amusement to us. And very easy to talk to.

I don't remember all the social studies teachers that we had. I remember just one. She was tall, skinny, freckled and fair. And she was the only one who made geography even remotely interesting. That was the only year I paid any attention at all in geo class. The next social studies teacher we had was young, pretty and female. Since there were 10 males in their late teens in our class of 16, not much attention was paid to what she taught. I remember that she told us in the first class that she had never taught before and that she hated geography too. She was a great civics teacher. Anything I know about the political system is because of her and to a small extent, NDTV.

We had a bengali PT teacher who was also a singer and a dancer who later married a Odissi dancer. He taught lots of the kids some folk dances and a couple of the local teachers would teach some other kids rudimentary bharatnatyam and we'd have a dance show thingy. Great fun.

I want to go back to school.

Book Virus

I was tagged by Girish.

Total Number of Books I Own: I don't own many books, my father is the one who buys most of the books at home. But a conservative estimate of books in my house in Ranipet would be about 400 (updated: there are either 2000(acc.ding to amma) or 1500 (appa) books in our ranipet house). Most of the books that were bought for me and my sister when we were younger have been given away to other kids or to my school.

Last Book I Bought: Blue Gold: The Fight to Stop the Corporate Theft of the World's Water by Maude Barlow, Tony Clarke

Last Book I Read: I read all of these in the last one week so they are all going to be here- The Uncollected Works of P.G.Wodehouse, Ruth Rendell's Shake Hands Forever, William Manchester's The Glory and The Dream (300 pages over, 1100 to go), Lee Child's One Shot, Nelson Demille's The Rivers of Babylon, Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat (Haven't finished this yet).

Five Books That Mean a Lot to Me: Ken Kasey's One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, P.G.W.'s Psmith Journalist (My first ever Wodehouse!), Nelle Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, Will S.'s Taming of the Shrew, James Hilton's Goodbye Mr.Chipps and Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. I know that makes it six, sue me.

Tag five people and have them do this on their blogs: I have to think....

Kavitha - Because she always comes to Landmark when I ask her to.
Kripa - 'coz he is funny.
Rajesh has been tagged. Thej dosen't blog. Vaishu, Ravi and Vish also don't.

Who else is there in blogsphere? Nobody else I know...

Warning

Your clever little blog could get you fired

i'm leaving the day after tomorrow. i don't know if i'm happy or sad. i have done nothing all day. i have to pack, find my clothes, buy stuff, go to the tailor blah blah blah by tomorrow. i also have to call some people, visit some folks, do some editing for my mother and i feel very tired. i don't know why i'm writing all of this. i'm too tired to use caps. depeche mode is on. i don't like them but the remote is on the floor and i dont want to bend down. my head hurts. my stomach hurts. i am sleepy. i have work to do. i dont want to do anything. i noticed that i started writing this as a journal and it has become like a letter. or has it? i dont know. i'm not happy. im very often not happy. who are you? why are you here? kill me before i say something baaaaddddddddddd.
my aunt bought me 2 salwar sets 3 days ago. they were both pink. who am i?
my bed is calling me. bye.

Kodai revisited

I went to my grandmother's house today at 10 am. Nobody was at home. They had all apparently gone to the same wedding that my mother had gone to, the same one she had asked me to go with her to. Why did I not think of that?

I am a terrible vacation companion. I get moody, irritable, depressed, annoying; a regular pain in the ass. But I had a good time. I don't know about the others.

(VH1 is playing "The Fabulous Life of Justin Timberlake". He apparently has 500 pairs of sneakers. Imagine how bad his house smells! We have 4 pairs of used sneakers in this house, that part of the house smells like dirt, sweat and old socks. Now imagine there were 500 sneakers in the house. ugh. Buut I suppose he has an army of people to keep him from sweating or something.)

So, Kodai -
I spent around 2 hours a day, all four days that I was there, walking around the lake. Not jolking, just walking, more like ambling, really. (There are too many commas in the previous sentence.) And another 1 hour on the lake, boating. On the second day, my great aunt came boating with me. She had gone the previous day with Tara and to my great mortification, she asked me if I could row, or should she go with Tara again!! I showed her! She is still alive and well, and she came that evening and the next day too. She told me stories of her and my patti in Srivilliputtur when they were kids and about patti's 5 day long wedding! All the good stuff.

We didn't go anywhere much this time. Just stayed at home and relaxed. We had taken the Qualis and stuffed three plastic chairs in it for my mother, grandmother and great aunt. So they sat near the lake after walking a bit, before breakfast.

Then we'd go home, bathe and watch a movie. Lots of movies. In the 4 days that we were there, we saw Wag the Dog, Mistrial, 12 Angry Men, Singing in the Rain, Agatha Cristie's Hickory Dickory Dock, 2 Sherlock Holmes' movies, I Am Sam, and a lot of other stuff that I don't remember now.

After the movie, lunch, crash, and go out boating again. Or just laze around. Or go for a drive. Or sleep till dinner. Or till the next movie. You get the point.

I also played around 15-20 games of rummy with my grandmother. I learnt to play flush from my father, but we never got down to actually playing it. I also played about 30 hands of solitare. And taught patti how to.

That's pretty much all that we did.

Parineeta

Bollywood's take on a Bengali tragedy romance with a twist.

Sanjay Dutt is constipated. Vidya Balan cries too easily. Diya Mirza has a very weird smile. Rima(?) Sen's eyes are way too big for her face. Saif Ali Khan is a very good, spoilt brat - Though I'm not sure that that is what he wanted to portray. All the assorted aunts, uncles, neighbours and friends look alike - heavy jewellery, silk saris with lots of zari, large makeup and very weepy.

The music in the movie was OK. Maybe even good.

Vidhu Vinod Chopra has tried very hard to out do Nagesh Cuckoo (Hydrabad Blues) in weird and bad movie endings. He came close. It was almost that bad, a very close match. Saif Ali Khan tries to break down a day old wall with a lawn ornament or an ornamental fountain, which he pulls out of the ground with HIS BARE HANDS. And the marriage party is chanting for him to break down the wall, though nobody comes to help; and what happens to poor, rich, spoilt, bride Diya Mirza? Nobody knows. I don't think anybody cares, but that's besides the point; a good movie must not make us fill in the gaps. But nobody asked me. Their loss.

The movie itself sucked. But watchable. So go ahead, take a flying leap into the glitter and gold. Fortify yourself with lots of masala popcorn and leave your brains behind. Cheers.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

I will write about my vacation sometime, I am just not in the mood to sit in front of the computer these days.
A quick word about two movies that I saw after the Kodai trip.

First, Mr & Mrs Smith - Yet another duh Brad Pitt movie, though he looks delectable throughout the movie. There is not one shot in the movie where he looks bad. I went with my aunt and uncle and mother and sister. I feel sorry for them. My aunt liked it, my uncle thought it was dumb, my mother was happy she got a airconditioned place, a cushioned chair and entertainment AND she got to rest her poor, blistered feet and Tara didn't have very high expectations.

That last three words are the key to enjoying this movie. It is silly, filled with pretty people, not many jokes, though some of the scenes between Brad Pitt and Angeline Jolie are funny, the way married people are weird sometimes, even in real life. Lots and lots of heavy, pregnant silence. Watch it, share my agony.

kodaikanal

Till I was 12, I thought everybody went on vacations like we did. I'll first tell you how we go on vacations, you tell me if it is "normal".

Generally, take 6-10 people, all related - grandparents, parents, cousins, aunts, uncles and siblings, mix with a car or two and an equal number of drivers, a cook, a house with a built in caretaker and family, a 3-bedrooms-with-attached-bathrooms house, with two living rooms (or halls or whatever you want to call them) and a kitchen, a large garden, supposedly with a quicksand at one end and a few dogs - and you get my vacation in Kodaikanal. Normal?? I doubt it.

We generally go to the same places every time - Berijam, Faery Falls, Cheese Factory, Bear Shola, Neptine Pool, Coakers Walk, so on and so forth, and/or bump into interesting/weird (or both) people, tourists or Kodai residents.

More about this time, next post.

Away

I'm going to Kodaikanal tonight. I won't be here for a week. I'll be sure to write about the weird people I meet, the food we eat, the places we go and so on and so forth after I am back, if I remember.

Don't miss me too much.

Abortion

I agree.

Relatives everywhere

Sometimes, I go with my mother to a park near our apartment for our moning jolks. About 2 months ago, we met a man there, about 60 years old, short and wiry, who we'd say 'Good Morning' to everyday. A week after we first 'met' him, my mother spoke to him and we found out that he is also interested in charity work.Afetr that, he, my mother and my father would talk for a while everyday after the statutory 4 rounds. He was, I think, the president or secretary of the "Mylapore Walkers Association". I kid you not. He was also the "coach" for all the other overweight, elderly folks for their morning yoga/laughter therapy thingy. All in all, a very interesting man.

I met him this morning, at around 6.30. He was sitting on the concrete circular culvert/seat/stage thing around a large tree, somewhere in the middle of the park in his standard shorts, gray T-Shirt, sneakers and socks pulled up till just below the knee.

I found out that he is my aunt's sister-in-law's daughter's father-in-law AND went to school and was a cousin of the same aunt's son-in-law's father. My mother's name had, apparently, come up in some conversation at his house and his wife had told him that she (my mother) was Vatsala's (the above-mentioned aunt) sister. He was very pleased to inform me that we were related.

Apparently, the world is a very small place indeed.

Professionalism

What the hell is professionalism? Stiff, starched clothes, expressionless face and being all bitchy and snotty?

Sounds like a good way to go

Caffeine really kills - A yummy way to go.

Why is suicide wrong? Someone please give a reason other than "God gave you life, It's not yours to take.." blah blah blah.

die

I just want to go to bed till I rot. The smell might bother the neighbours, but who gives a shit about them.

Rot Rot Rot

Yeah, and the human race should just stop fidgeting around and should kill itself now, soon, immediately and all that. What is the point of life anyway? Why are some people so bloody arrogant that they think that they actually matter?

I just figured out what my religious beliefs are. I have none. I believe that there is a god but I don't think he gives a fuck about you, me or the old lady who walks to the temple everyday. At least she gets some exercise out of it.

It's just a matter of time before somebody wises up and pushes the button on humanity. Isn't it ironic that humanity is defined as the "quality of being humane; benevolence". Right.

I'm in a very bad mood, I don't know why. Maybe it's the crowded rat syndrome.

Minority Report-ish

Malaysia to fingerprint all new-born children

UK biometric IDs are going to be made compatible with US scanners

If you have all that security, this is how the new terror/thieves/scary shit is going to be.

Basically, if I get biometric security, a fingerprint enabled car and a retinal-scanned passport, instead of losing just a car and a passport, I get to lose a car and my finger, a passport and my eye! And thank to those right-wing, pro-life, anti-science, "You can't use the cells in your own body to make your life better as that would be playing God and killing babies that will never be born anyway" morons, there will be no stem-cell research and I will not be able to get another eye or a finger!

Maybe I should have been born a Salamander. At least I could have grown a cut-off finger back.

Scary

There's a woman at work. Let's call her 'T'. I don't know what she does, though she seems to stand around telling people to go to work, especially after lunch. She is scary.

She's a head taller than me. That makes her about 6 ft and some. And she is wide. She wears brown lipstick, lined by a black lip-pencil. Kohl'd eyes and pancaked face. Thankfully, no blush. She wears pinstriped shirts and black flat-front trousers - they look good on her - very professional-like.

Every time I see her, I mind-yell,"AAAAGH, Attack of the Pancake monster!"

The only thing she has ever said to me is, "Lunch break is over."

I wonder what I'd do if I actually had to have a conversation with her. Would I run screaming? Would I completely be mesmerised by her totally made-up face (in a totally non-sexual manner)?

I know I should look beneath the fake pink face and get to know the real her and not judge a person based on the amount of make up that they use. But I don't I'll ever have the chance to know her other than gawking from a distance 'cause tomorrow is my last day here.

One of these days, I'll write about this annoying girl who is in college with me.

Deep Throat

Deep Throat comes out

You awful dirty people, what did you think it was about?

And in other news, The government bans smoking in Indian Movies. Does that mean scenes in English movies where they are shown smoking will be edited out? Imagine Pulp Fiction without the smoking scenes! Does this mean no drug scenes either? Imagine Trainspotting without the drugs!

Karunanidhi celebrates his 82nd birthday with 82 public meetings. How come I never thought of that for my birthdays?

Indian American wins spelling bee. We really are a nation of geeks

Shoot me.

I should learn to think before I speak, even at home.

Last night, my mother said, "This heat is killing me", so on and so forth and went to her bedroom to soak up some airconditioning. My sister said, "I want to go away some place cool", to which yours truly said, "yeah, lets go to Australia, it's December there now."

My sister blinked. And burst out laughing. I had no words. I still don't.

American "Christian Right"

The Christian fundamentalist "Right" freak me out.

http://newsforreal.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-25-2005.html

http://newsforreal.blogspot.com/2005/05/may-24-2005.html

What happened to democracy?

Resolution

I have come to a very belated conclusion that emoticons are lame and childish. I'm not going to be using them here anymore, I am going to make an effort to convey what I feel with just words. If I need apostrophes, colons, semi-colons, commas and brackets to show how I feel then I am in trouble. I'm in no mood to edit what I have written earlier, so any emoticons in my previous posts will stay. But no more after this.

This is, hereafter, a smiley-free zone.

You are, however, allowed to use whatever you want. I also support freedom of expression (yesterday, I would have inserted a colon and a capital 'd' here, but today, I refrain).

I have never kept any resolution so far. Let's see how long this one lasts.

Kick ass movie

I saw KungFu Hustle last night, with my aunt and great-aunt. I thought it would be weird with my great-aunt there, because she watches only tamil movies and tamil soaps. It wasn't. But maybe that was because she was sitting on one side of my aunt and I was sitting on the other. Anyway, the movie rocked. Everything about the movie rocked. The dumbass story line, the 'The One' references, the action sequences, the mute girl-dumb guy line, the 'beast', the retired fighters, the fat friend, the boss, the sidekicks, the 3 initial kung fu masters, the musicians, the hilarious dialogues. I could go on forever.

The brilliance of this movie was the lame, capitalized kung fu styles. The Lion's Roar, The Iron Hand, The Buddha's Palm, and others that I don't remember.

The Hollywood action movie references were great too.

I died laughing when Donut told the Landlord, "With Great Power comes Great Responsibility". Take that Spidey!

The Matrix style fight in the end with The Beast and The Axe gang was better than the original Matrix fight scene. This guy actually had emotions in his face and didn't look like a wooden board pretending to be a man.

There were a lot more things in this movie that I loved. I don't remember it all. So that's it from me about this movie.

There should have been a show down between Celine Dion and The Lion's Roar. I wonder who would have been the last one standing.

In the car, on our way back from the movie, my great-aunt said that the 'lollipop' girl was very pretty. She also said that the lollipop girl was his sister. I WAS wondering if she had understood the movie; that kinda answered it for me.

I went home and saw LOTR-1 again.

Directed by Stephen Chow

Produced by Stephen Chow

Written by Stephen Chow

Starring Stephen Chow

Three Cheers to Stephen Chow