This is a pic of me and lil sis back when she was knee high to a grasshopper and had a particular taste for Barbie heads and buttons and anything that resembled either.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
The picture
This is a pic of me and lil sis back when she was knee high to a grasshopper and had a particular taste for Barbie heads and buttons and anything that resembled either.
More than a month
Gawd! I haven’t put a post up in ages!
Certainly not for the lack of topics to carp about. On the contrary I have been involved in a ridiculously ginormous amount of ‘stuff ’. (‘ginormous’ is a throwback to my primary school days. That and delumptious and scrumplicious which I have always thought of as legitimate words thanks to madame E.Blyton. ‘Stuff’ on the other hand is this neat little word with just the right measure of ambiguity which has bailed me out of many a sticky situation back in secondary school. )
Lets see, I’ve been away for more than a month.. I would write about my birthday resolutions but I’ve already broken all of them except for the one about not spending too much time online and for that I have Bogus Sanchar Nigam Ltd to thank.
I should give an account of the basic mountaineering camp I went to where I learnt that your toes freezing right off your feet is no reason for being let off the morning drill (which for some unfathomable reason was always at 6am in the middle of the night). I also learnt some important life-lessons but everyone must figure these out for themselves and anyways writing about them demands too much patience.
M.G. road being converted to a walking plaza in the near future deserves a mention as does the colossal hole in the ground in front of the police station continuing right to the netherworld. I’ve heard of prisoners tunnelling their way out of jail but this tops it all. Well, it actually is intended to be the much needed subway to make life simpler for people like me who for whom crossing roads is an ordeal.
And Then There Is Valentine’s Day.
Now I don’t expect much in the mush department out of a day which is named after 3rd century Christian martyrs who had their shoulders relieved of the burden of their heads before they could spell romance,(Come to think of it, the English did spell horribly until a couple of centuries ago, but anyhow) and somehow I’ve always managed to find myself knee deep in consommé at this time of the year. The first boyfriend was dumped around this time one year and a favorite cat went missing another time. So this year when I broke off with a friend of seven years a week before the ominous 14th I was under the impression that my cup of woes brimmeth over and that it couldn’t possibly get any worse. But like the not so very old adage goes: just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom somebody tosses you a shovel (or is it shoves you a towel..?). And so it was.
Valentine’s was the day chosen by the brilliant folk at MUHS to declare the second year results.
The infantile anti V-Day crusade launched by the Shiv Sena, the RSS and their ilk isn’t even a patch on this ingenious subterfuge. The MUHS has accomplished what no one else could even aspire to. They have made 200 students in my college and innumerable medical students all over the state forget the poetic exuberance this day usually stirs up.
Hats off to them!
I suppose.
Certainly not for the lack of topics to carp about. On the contrary I have been involved in a ridiculously ginormous amount of ‘stuff ’. (‘ginormous’ is a throwback to my primary school days. That and delumptious and scrumplicious which I have always thought of as legitimate words thanks to madame E.Blyton. ‘Stuff’ on the other hand is this neat little word with just the right measure of ambiguity which has bailed me out of many a sticky situation back in secondary school. )
Lets see, I’ve been away for more than a month.. I would write about my birthday resolutions but I’ve already broken all of them except for the one about not spending too much time online and for that I have Bogus Sanchar Nigam Ltd to thank.
I should give an account of the basic mountaineering camp I went to where I learnt that your toes freezing right off your feet is no reason for being let off the morning drill (which for some unfathomable reason was always at 6am in the middle of the night). I also learnt some important life-lessons but everyone must figure these out for themselves and anyways writing about them demands too much patience.
M.G. road being converted to a walking plaza in the near future deserves a mention as does the colossal hole in the ground in front of the police station continuing right to the netherworld. I’ve heard of prisoners tunnelling their way out of jail but this tops it all. Well, it actually is intended to be the much needed subway to make life simpler for people like me who for whom crossing roads is an ordeal.
And Then There Is Valentine’s Day.
Now I don’t expect much in the mush department out of a day which is named after 3rd century Christian martyrs who had their shoulders relieved of the burden of their heads before they could spell romance,(Come to think of it, the English did spell horribly until a couple of centuries ago, but anyhow) and somehow I’ve always managed to find myself knee deep in consommé at this time of the year. The first boyfriend was dumped around this time one year and a favorite cat went missing another time. So this year when I broke off with a friend of seven years a week before the ominous 14th I was under the impression that my cup of woes brimmeth over and that it couldn’t possibly get any worse. But like the not so very old adage goes: just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom somebody tosses you a shovel (or is it shoves you a towel..?). And so it was.
Valentine’s was the day chosen by the brilliant folk at MUHS to declare the second year results.
The infantile anti V-Day crusade launched by the Shiv Sena, the RSS and their ilk isn’t even a patch on this ingenious subterfuge. The MUHS has accomplished what no one else could even aspire to. They have made 200 students in my college and innumerable medical students all over the state forget the poetic exuberance this day usually stirs up.
Hats off to them!
I suppose.
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