Saturday, 24 March 2007

Getting Lost

Its one of my favorite activities-especially on the way to an important event. I’d be humming a little tune (inside my stiflingly hot helmet) and not paying the least bit of attention to the road I’m on and then (a kilometer past the turning I’m supposed to take) I’d suddenly come to my senses and utter a little scream inside my helmet (managing to mist up the glass-adding to my already mounting troubles)

PLAN A then comes into play:

I talk to myself (inside the helmet-so I don’t look completely crazy) and calm myself down.
“So what if I missed the turning? I’ll just take the next right. That should undo the wrong!”
I begin to hum again and wait patiently for the next turning while trying to figure out which part of town I’m in (in vain). A kilometer goes by, and another, and another.
I cleverly zip in and out of traffic for a while before I realize that I’ve run out of road! And of right turns. A dreaded dead-end-T-junction(whatyoucallit) creeps closer.
“So what? I’ll just take a u-turn and go back the way I came! Yes! That’s what I shall do.”
Of course, u-turns are strictly prohibited as says the (barely) round sign. I would have risked breaking the law had it not been for the rotund 'traffic policeman' standing right next to the sign-establishing the belief in my head that the world truly does hate me and that I wasn't imagining it all. I curse (inside the helmet) as I'm forced to turn right. As i turn i scream at a passing auto "***********uram?"(the name says it all-now you know why i got lost in the first place) He gestures vauguely in the direction we are headed and I'm reassured.(Silly me)

I sit up a little straighter, overjoyed and proud at my navigational skills (do not laugh I say!) I zip past people, smirking at their misfortune of not knowing me. Still in my conceited state, I manage to spot a right turn (now a left) I hadn’t spotted before and continue to smirk as I negotiate the turn smoothly. I’m still smirking as I sail past a residential area, past kids playing in the street (narrowly missing a few), past people taking an evening stroll.
My smirk begins to fade now. I still don’t know where the hell I am. And the place I’m in is bloody deserted. Not even a single soul in sight. (The children have retreated indoors after they hear me approaching.)

PLAN B comes to the rescue!
I decide to ask the next person I see. And the winner is-
I spot two unsuspecting people having a conversation by the side of the road (unfortunate blokes!) and zoom up to them, coming to a squealing stop a few inches from one of them.
They look at me like I’m something from another world and one of them looks around furtively, as though for some kind of protection.
I grin and ask them “Can you please tell me how I can get to **********uram?”
“well, you just gotta go back the way you came and take a left, then a right and when you hit the main road take a left. Ask someone from there.” He says, a little relieved at the prospect of getting me off his back.
I continue to look at him, trying to comprehend what he said while coming to the conclusion that the man is ****ing crazy! How could I possibly follow all that?
Careful not to change my expression, I nod and smile.
“Thanks so much!” I say, sounding confident. I give him a little wave and take a u-turn (yet again) He musta bin confused when I took the nearest right.

Getting lost-it’s not an easy task and it certainly isn’t for the weak of heart. Trust me-I would know.

Saturday, 17 March 2007

The Poor Poor Sheep

Have you ever tried counting sheep when you can't sleep? You have, haven't you? Well i have too. I was just lying in bed...i couldn't sleep. I closed my eyes and all i could think about was how i couldn't sleep. The i resorted to this supposed old favourite-counting sheep! The theory behind it is that you get so bored that you eventually fall asleep.(HA!)
Anyway, i began counting sheep. That became boring. So i added a fence.(the green meadow and mountains in the backdrop as well as the little stream were there by default) What harm could that do? Turns out a lot. Once the fence was added i had to incorporate it into the whole charade. So i took advice from one of the sheep-Moe (Surprise, surprise-he's black) and made the sheep jump over the fence neatly before wading accross the stream to reach the green meadow. (just go with it ok) That worked for a while. (for a while) The sheep 'baa-ed' happily, pranced over the fence, then waded accross and then munched contentedly.

*'Baa', prance, wade, chomp. 'Baa', prance, wade, chomp. 'Baa', prance, wade, chomp.*

Then it happened. One of the sheep's hind legs struck the fence as he jumped and he landed with a sick 'crunch', in a pile on the other side mumbling a weak 'baa', trying to get up. But...
Lemme tell you something-Sheep are daft. What followed can only be described as a major pile-up. I'm talking twenty to thirty sheep, and more on the way, happily prancing into the 'baa'ing mess with the first sheep still mumbling broken, weak 'baa's every now and then.
What's worse is that i just couldn't stop myself!! My imagination ran wild and I abandoned my attempt to sleep completely, when my little story ended with Moe reciting lines from the Matrix, happily launching rockets into the ever-growing pile. The rest is too graphic to describe.
Moral: Do NOT imagine anything about sheep. Its dangerous.

Friday, 16 March 2007


The midget is missing. He is number ten on the Interpol's Most Wanted List. Apparently that isn't enough. He is reported to be in hiding with another fugitive(I'm not hinting at anything here) in some mountains North(or was it South) of Afghanistan(or was it Argentina).
His description is---small ruffian-looking, vertically challenged, semi Homo-Sapien with a scruffy beard and a hammer the size of China (as mentioned before). Sometimes answers to the name 'Hagar'.
If spotted please contact nearest Interpol headquarters(I know they're hard to locate. Stop whining) or me because there is a HUGE reward in store for the lucky man/woman/co-conspiring midget. (I'm not saying the reward is really huge, but it ain't small either...unless you compare it with something else...smaller...maybe then. But its not huge-huge...maybe you could say big..not big-big. Something like that anyway. Confused? So was I. Just call in you greedy pigs.)
More updates later.


You have got to try simple word-an amazing solution to being blue....I was wandering (more like stalking) around the house the other day in a fouler-than-foul mood and the leg of my study table chanced upon my little toe. Apparently they didn't get along and the table leg stubbedm my toe, which then caused me to hop around on one foot with the other toe in my hand(I didn't know i was that flexible) for a minute or two. If you're wondering, the table got its due. (My grandmother wondered about the missing appendage for a minute but i craftily distracted her with a magnificent fake tantrum)
Anyway back to my genius discovery-As i was hopping around unflatteringly, I screamed obscenities...and that just made me red in the face and groping for words worse than the ones i already knew and had used. It was then that my first rubbish word escaped my mouth(which was set in an unbecoming sneer at the time. It only added to the beautiful gibberish to follow)-"Snghhhkrch"(said through gritted teeth to add that extra inflection). History, ladies and gentlemen, was made at that moment and I haven't looked back since. Gibberish is now officially my second language (unofficially my first-What would people say!?)
Try it. I assure its as stupid as it sounds. Thats the beauty of it!

Monday, 5 March 2007

Headaches, Midgets and Munch

It's such a strange feeling when you're happy after a long time. Its like meeting a different person-metaphorically speaking(whatever that means). It is also very strange (but not uncommon) when you have a truckload of work to do but you just couldn't be bothered. (just couldn't give a #&*@ #%+!! to be clearer) Listening ta music and adding nonsensical things to your blog, eating copious amounts of ice cream and twiddling yout thumbs become extremly important activities. Seriously! I haven't had such time for myself in so LONG!(my thumbs hurt)
My back hurts (adding to the agony in the thumbs) and don't ask me about my head (i know you won't so i'm gonna tell you without further ado) My head hurts. Tumor bad. The entire left side is pounding! Yet i have to sit three inches away from the computer screen for as long as i can, squint at small print books in bad light and and watch TV avidly. Self pity is the best way to go during times like these. Its a HUGE comfort. Helping yourself is just plain loserish.
College was hilarious today. I got a 'WOW' on my paper from LV. If you're thinking thats a good thing then you're highly mistaken.
Munch had a nice.....uhh lets say-discussion...with Kana in the middle of the staircase with a large crowd being entertained on the sidelines. I managed to sell a few tickets here and there-all in all quite a profit. Osh was too busy cowering in a small puddle of embarassement so I cashed in today!!(haha! my evil plan of taking over the world economy is within reach!)
Stayed with mortified munch for a while, then returned home to wallow in self pity and the splitting headache.
My dad has this interesting theory that having a headache is quite like having a small vindictive barbarian in your head, who just keeps pounding away inside there with grim satisfaction. He has a mallet the size of China and takes great pleasure in thumping you with it. The mallet goes down,the midget goes up, the mallet goes up and the midget goes down, then the mallet goes...oh you get the hang of it-i think. (If you haven't then stop reading my blog)
Me n him (the barbarian) have become quite good friends over our week long companionship. I christened him Hagar-Headache Hagar recently. ( I know the name is taken. Deal with it.) There was a party and everything. I even managed ta sneak a bottle of Champagne in and crash it on his head when he wasn't looking. (Don't worry, he's fine. The stitches are almost completely healed.)
For all my complaining we manage to exchange pleasantries between thumps( he is a busy man-what with all the thumping and all)

Shar: "Hi there hagar! Back again are you?"
Shar: "Oh I'm doing perfect!! Almost can't feel you in there!"
Hagar: "Grunt grunt*"
(Well he's not a conversationalist, not one for small talk, or any kind of talk for that matter but he is a busy man)
That was our last conversation. Will keep you posted. (haha! get it!? "will keep you posted" I crack myself up i tell you!)

Sunday, 4 March 2007

Holy **** its Holi

hello world!
its me! Utterly bored and regretting every minute of this agony..I have been a social recluse for two days now. No that is not what I am agonizing about or what I'm regretting. I have writer's block!!! Thank god i have my blog to write utter muck in! Which is my second favourite activity after lazing around in front of the tv.
The Idiot box has completely taken over my life!! It has I tell you! Today is Holi(The festival of colours) and all i can think of is whether its time for dinner yet (my stupid cellphone tells me its 3:25 p.m) I officially have had writer's block since 10 a.m and its still going strong-hence the boring post. Maybe if i copy one of my poems here it'll inspire me. But i'm too bored to do tat so i think i'll jus stare at the screen for a while.....*stare stare stare stare sigh stare stare sigh*
It dint work. I notice my screen is disgustingly dirty though. I think its still displaying remnants of a bug i swatted on it a few years ago. Rather than describe the dry, flaky substance i visciously scraped at to clean my murky screen, I'm gonna change the topic. My research paper is due tomorrow and i don't think I know how to spell the title leave alone write twenty pages on it. Two marks a day are going to be deducted for the late lathiefs. I wonder how they're going to mark me if they don't have a positive total when i do finally give it in. My right shoulder aches savagely and all i can do is stretch which jus makes me more lethargic. Tis a viscious circle i tell you. Hey i have a poem about being lazy..I'll put it up here. For real this time. *stare stare stare sigh scrape scrape sigh* I'm gonna post it I tell you! I will I will! Here it is, you bunch of sceptics!
A stretch, a yawn
a purr of lethargy
horizontally i adorn
my bed like an effigy
Verticality? Tis a myth
I know no such thing
All my kin and kith
are as lazy. Its astounding.
I'm a sloth you say?
Why thank you, my dear!
How can i repay
your statement of truth so clear.
Well you can name call or whine
but sticks and stones'..
vehemently say "Fine!"
but I'll always remain a LAZYBONES!

Saturday, 3 March 2007


Kicking back and relaxing is my favourite pass time. And today i did nothing but that. Went to the Doc n he confirmed that i have perfect vision. Joy! but the headaches remain a headache. Calvin n Hobbes is wat cheers me up! So here's a poem for my dear little illustrated monster.


Quite normal a boy

yet phenomenally different.

Plans each ploy

With deadly precision.

Innocent eyes

masking devilry,

miniscule in size

so canny, it’s uncanny!

But plans often fall short,

inducing miniature ferocity

An explosion of sort

with amplified audacity

The quickest wit,

an obsession with leisure.

Intellectually dull, a bit

Hyperactive beyond measure!

Oversize apparel

Stuffed toy as a friend,

Unafraid to dabble

In the art of ‘fiend’.

Mother disregarded,

Father disdained

‘round women completely guarded

with an expression-pained.

Hair eternally a mess

Telling cringe-inducing lies

No one dare question

This devil in disguise!

First Post and the Like

My first post-quite a monumental event, considering it took me a year to put my thought of blogging into action at last. Inspired by my friend and cajoled by others i have decided to do the right thing-namely get off my lazy ass to do something constructive. writing and posting poetry jus isn't enough for my overly hyperactive self. (ha!)
My bubu says with didain that i am a sensation seeker well he doesn't realize(and i haven't brought it to his attention yet) that I'm actually the worst kind of sensation seeker ie I get bored easily. Unless the current object of my interest is truly sensational my attention gathers itself and walks out in a huff, searching for new avenues. Geminis...sigh. (not that astrology is worthy of my supreme interest) Poetry, music, books and my friends. Now they're something i'll NEVER be able to live without.
Now that i have ranted for a while i believe its time for me to divert my attentions toward the idiot box. It craves my attention.
Note: Since the words 'attention', 'sensation', and 'interest' have been used ten billion times in this post they have been temporarily annihilated from my diction.