Superman needs to go on a diet

Please check out the video below…I got this as a forward from a friend. I died laughing…

A few thoughts came to mind…

1) Why does he look like a bad version of Elvis?

2) What does ‘H’ stand for?

3) Where are his Red Undies??

4) He does need to go on a diet real fast….stop eating Rice and hogging on Idlis.

5) I simply loved his dance routine.

6) How come Jayaprada could keep a straight face while dancing with that Joker?

Any more thoughts folks….I am so eager to hear your reactions.

‘Driving Mr. A’

People who live in India or lived in India and learnt driving a car on the busy roads of major cities know that its nothing but the ‘Survival of the Fastest’.

We Indians, have a unique way of manoeuvring our vehicles through people with road rage, endless number of pedestrians, street hawkers, crazy kids on bikes, aunties on ‘Activas‘ with ‘as slow as you can go’ syndrome, the beggars and lastly the cows and dogs littering the road and bringing traffic to an absolute standstill whenever, they have the desire to just hibernate in the middle of the street.

Added to this chaos is the endless horn blowing by some mindless freak. As if the red light at the traffic stop is just a minor hindrance in his way.

Its been a pleasant experience walking on the streets of Lancaster. I am never in fear of being run down by some smart ass with a foot on the pedal.

We moved from the University 6 months(after ‘A’ finished his MBA) to town. We felt the need of a car after lugging groceries in the shivering cold. This prompted ‘A’ to get a UK driving licence. Here the process of getting a driving licence for the car is quite tedious. You apply for a learners licence then you have to first learn the rules and give mock tests online and then go for a written test. If you pass that, only then can you give the practical exam. Thankfully they drive on the same side of the road as we do.

‘A’ having cleared his written exam is now taking driving lessons for the practical test. He has been driving in India since he was 18. Learning these new rules is unnerving him since, the Brits have really strict rules. I have known people who have been driving for 20 years in India but who failed the practical test 3 times.

Unlearning the Indian driving tactics and adapting new ones is not so easy . The errors are not so much in the way you drive but are more so about the rules. Where to stop, when to stop, how to signal, how to approach a turn, a traffic signal or how to even stop your car. ‘A’ is at his wits end. Thankfully the instructor is a gentle soul quite unlike the instructor of one of our friend has, who gets frantic and frustrated and loses his marbles entirely.

I too will be going through this arduous process quite soon.

This post is making me miss India so much. I miss the traffic, the smells and the noise of horns …nostalgia makes me think of the song…

‘ Babu samjho ishare, horn pukare…pum pum pum..’
‘Yahan chalti ko gadi kehte hain pyare pum, pum pum.’

Hairy Tales

‘A’ and I have this long standing tradition of arguing just before I plan to have a haircut. Its a finely tuned ritual with each of us playing our well rehearsed parts.

‘A’ never wants me to cut my hair and says I look better with long hair. I tend to disagree (Well, what’s the fun if you give in). The other reason being I think I look better in shorter hair, younger and also its manageable.

After completing the ritual, I got dressed and left for work, an hour earlier. Being quite impulsive on a lot of things, I can never ever book appointments for any of the beauty regimes. Never did that in India and am not about to change here. So I popped into a swanky looking Hair Salon. After looking at the charges I started praying inwardly …Please god, please let them not be free for an appointment. The cost of one haircut could feed an entire Indian family for a whole month.

God heard my prayers and I moved on to my ever dependant salon whose charges were decent and did not put me in ‘ Pounds to Rupees’ conversion mode. Thankfully I was the first customer and so the stylist (new country , new name ) as usual asked me what I wanted. I told her to chop off the hair that keeps falling on my eyes and makes it really bugging when you are trying to work. That really brought out a horrified look from her which quickly changed to a look of pity (poor women, completely clueless about fashion…. tch tch ).

I told her to suggest something and she spoke about ‘flicks’ and ‘layers’ and other such jargon’s which completely muddled me up and I ended up just nodding my head and agreeing to what she said.

After washing my hair their was an elaborate array of clips on my head holding up my hair. The stylist started clipping my wayward strands in to some shape. After that came some ‘Mousse’ to curl up my hair and then blow dry.

I looked up in the mirror and I liked my look and I bounced off to work with a big smile on my face. All this happened two days ago.

Today after washing my hair I performed the same procedure and to my utter frustration in spite of spending considerable amount in making up those curls my hair is sticking at all odd places and is completely ‘uncurlable‘…

Why o’ why does it always happen that you look great when you step out of a hair salon, but you can never ever do that same magic on your own limp hair??

Funnily enough

As traditions of weird things happening in my life, I had a hilarious experience today afternoon…

If you have read my blog post ‘Me, Myself and Me again’. Point No. 16 in that blog, raised its ugly head yet again. But, being in ‘phoren’ lands its nature was a bit different.

Lancaster is shedding the blanket of cold and is now welcoming spring with open arms. Today the weather was very pleasant. Bright and sunny with just a tad of chill in the air. I took this opportunity to spend my lunch break in sunshine. There is a small park just walking distance from my office. Check out the picture below:

I was sitting here on the bench in the bottom left hand side of this picture.

I was happily reading a book basking in the wonderful sunshine when a ‘firang’ chap (decent looking maybe in his 40’s) asked me if he could sit on the bench next to me as all others were already occupied. I scooted to the extreme left so he could sit down.

Just out of politeness I made a bit of small talk about the weather and got back to my book. Suddenly this chappie got a burst of enthusiasm and started chatting with me and telling me about his trips to Australia, France, India and Malaysia.

He spoke about ‘Varanasi aka Benares, and how he saw a funeral pyre there and how much he loved the experience of travelling in India. I was listening to him politely and all was fine. Then the conversation veered towards the unexpected. Here is how it went

Chappie : I am going to have a bit of alcohol now…
Me: [(Things going around in my brain -TGAIMB )OMG he is going to booze in this park in the middle of the afternoon].
Me: OK then, I got to go back to work as my Lunch Break is nearly over.
Chappie : Oh Please, I won’t drink if you are embarrassed
Me: TGAIMB – who gives a damn…help help I gotta escape right now.
Me: Anyway I gotta go, it was nice talking to you.
Chappie : Do you come here everyday.
Me: TGAIMB. Oh man!!! I can never come to this park again. WTF??
ME: Sometimes
Chappie : Would you be here tomorrow around 2 o’clock then??
Me: TGAIMB – In your dreams buddy…Piyakkad kahin ka…
Me: Possibly….
Chappie : Well see you tomorrow then..
Me: smiling (as if I’ve swallowed a centipede…)

I just started walking when he spoke again.

Chappie : Oh by the way….I hope you are not married or anything…

I was about to roll on the floor with laughter….I turned back and gave him a biggggggg smile and said ‘Yes I am’ and just walked off.

Well, this was another unique experience to add to my list of unique experiences.

Now, I have to be just on the lookout for that guy (Lancaster is a pretty small town) and abandon the idea of going to that park for at least a month or two.

Coffee on the Canal

Today was a weird weather day. I woke up to snowy showers. By the time I got ready it was sunny. In the afternoon it started snowing heavily again and when I reached home after work it was sunny again. I did not want to miss this first glimpse of the approaching Spring.

I woke ‘A’ from his deep afternoon-evening siesta and dragged him to a pub which is on a canal at a very picturesque location near our house. I clicked some photos of our coffee date.

Here are a few of them. It was sunny but bitterly cold…..some might call us insane to be sitting out in the cold but it was a marvellous impromptu outing.

The Pub

View across the Canal

‘A’ all Bundled up.

Delicious Cappucino !!!!

I am wondering who roams topless in this cold

On the way to the pub.

Do Indians need Shock Therapy ??

I came back home from work sometime back and found an Indian friend (From Delhi) having a cup of coffee with ‘A’. I joined the conversation and we started talking about ‘How the Thullas (Policeman) make life miserable for Businessmen in Delhi”. How at every junction a person needs to grease the hands right from Policemen Clerks and Bureaucrats to get his work done. Be it a simple a telephone connection or to paying his sales tax.

‘Corruption’, It has become such a part and parcel of life that we just turn a blind eye towards it. When things come to such a stage when you need to pay money to open the doors of your own shop, then where and when is it going to end???

I had an interesting experience at work today. Our company won a lawsuit with another company and I had called up to enquire about when our payment was to get released.

Imagine this happening in India. I am calling up xyz co and speaking to a babu (Clerk) who works in the accounts Department.

Me: Hello I am calling from ABC Co’s accounts department. Just wanted to know whether you have received the court order…

Babu: Kaunsa court case…..??

Me: Case number …….

Babu: Tum logon koi kaam dhande hai ki nahi….nahi dete paisa kya kar loge

Me: Sir I just wanted to know when you will be releasing our payment…?

Babu: Kaunsa paisa kahanka Paisa….Hume koi court order nahi mili hai…..case ka result abhi aaya hi kahan hai

me: Arre court ka order aa gaya hai…

Babau: Madam aap kaunsi duniya mein hai….India mein itni jaldi koi case ka result aata hai kya…abhi 5-6 saal baad phone karna…

My actual experience went like this

Me: Hello there I am calling from ABC co. Just wanted to know whether you have received the court order.

Accountant : Hello Yes we have received the court order and I have already handed it over to our Finance director.

Me: When can I expect a payment??

Accountant: Our director has already written to the court and the matter is in his hands now.

Me: Please could I get his email address so I can write to him and get a feedback.

Accountant: Sure why not…his email id is…..

Today I did not have to argue or call up numerous times. I got my answers in that one phone call. The accountant never tried to dodge me.

This experience gave a jolt to my thinking and really made me feel aware of how different things could be. We blame it on our culture. We are waiting for someone else to change the way things function. Educated people like us also grease a policeman’s hand (When caught without a valid drivers Licence)by paying 50 Rupees to make our life easier. We also have that ‘Chalta hai‘ complacent attitude which needs to be abandoned.

Have we become so immune and apathetic to injustice that we have forgotten how better and easier life can be without corruption. When things will get done not because you had to pay additional money, but since it was your right.

Oh!!!what a wonderful day that will be. To live in such a India!!!

Clash of the Titans

I know the title is much too dramatic but yes that’s what comes to mind when I think about the day ‘A’ (Hubs Darling) met daddy dearest.

For all those people who don’t know my father, here is a bit of a glimpse. He is a sweet man who believes in simplicity in life. He is very straightforward when it comes to things which concern his family. Very astute about money and has worked really hard to give us a good life. He is an extremely quiet man and has no clue how to do idle chitchat. My Mother is quite opposite in terms of talking and they suit each other perfectly. She can talk nineteen to dozen and just needs a faithful audience.

‘A’ and I decided to get married and we informed our respective parents. My father wanted to meet ‘A’ (typical filmy ishtyle) and so I called ‘A’ over for tea. Even though I had given him an idea of how things will proceed, ‘A’ was tremendously nervous since he was meeting my father for the first time.

The meeting was scheduled for 5 pm and ‘A’ arrived on time, smartly dressed and neat and tidy. My father was sitting in the living room and once ‘A’ settled down the official interview started. I was in the kitchen listening to the conversation holding my breath.

There was absolute silence for a more than ten minutes and I started imagining my Father and ‘A’ dressed in armour with their swords drawn and the music of ‘Mahabharata’ in the background. The silence was equally unnerving for ‘A’ who was sweating buckets (not because of the Heat of Nagpur) and waiting to get massacred .

The first question itself was a shocker, ‘How much do you earn?’. Since I know my father so well, I know he will not waste his time and energy in pleasantries of any sort but get right to the point.
‘A’ stammered out the figure, hoping in hope that the bad part is over.

The next question was even tougher, ‘How will you manage in this salary?’. ‘A’ sucked in his stomach and confidently answered the question in spite of feeling cornered like a deer in the headlights of a car.
In retrospect, I feel my father was happy with the way ‘A’ tackled the ‘googlies’ thrown at him, cause he then proceeded to ask him about his family and other inane stuff. ‘A’ had passed his test and I started breathing normally.

Even though I have been married for nearly a decade, it still brings out horrified looks from ‘A’ and giggles from me whenever we talk of that day. My father is still the same and asks questions about our finances and how much we are saving whenever we speak to him on the phone across the ‘Saat Samundars’ . Only difference is, ‘A’ is now used to my paters questions and is no longer in the hot seat.

P.S:I have a good mind to ask my father,what made him give us the green signal for marriage.

Something for fun

I was just checking out Blog of Note and started reading the blog ‘Chrysalis Dreams’ and found this fun quiz to find out which Tarot Card are you?

See my results

You are The Star

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Star is one of the great cards of faith, dreams realised

The Star is a card that looks to the future. It does not predict any immediate or powerful change, but it does predict hope and healing. This card suggests clarity of vision, spiritual insight. And, most importantly, that unexpected help will be coming, with water to quench your thirst, with a guiding light to the future. They might say you’re a dreamer, but you’re not the only one.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Have fun with the quiz…

The age of Innocence is lost forever

This is what came to my mind when I read a news article with the headline ‘Boy becomes father at the age of 13′.

You can read it here.

It is too shocking and I don’t know what to say.

Please read and decide for yourself.

‘Foot in the Mouth – Gee I did it again moments’

Thankfully these incidents have become practically nil in my case but better half still has his moments in the spotlight

It all started with my birthday gift last year. At that time we were living in the Lancaster university family flats. I somehow never understood the reason as to why the front door to the flat had a automatic door closer. It meant that even if you want to just step out to get the vacuum cleaner which you have stacked on the staircase landing just outside your door you needed to carry your keys since there was a fear of you getting locked out if you did not manage to hold the door with one hand and drag the machine with the other.
So coming back to the incident, since my birthday was just a few days away better half (A) wanted to wrap the gift he had hidden in a box kept next to the vacuum cleaner.’A’ got this brilliant idea (where all the brilliant ideas take birth) while doing his morning ablutions. Since I was away at work he thought it was perfect opportunity to do the gift wrapping session. He went out wrapped only in a towel and was happily digging out my gift when the door slipped from his fingers and banged shut locking him out without the keys or a cellphone to call for help.

Being just in a towel outside the house that too in the bitter cold of January in Lancaster is not a very pleasant idea.’A’ scratched his brains and started calling out to a neighbour. After a few minutes the neighbour did come to the rescue and got duplicate keys from the porter and A was in the house with his dignity intact.

The recent incident is like a cherry on the cake. Again the event is my birthday and we are with friends in Manchester having dinner at ‘Pizza Hut’. Scene -The waitress is taking our drinks order ‘A’ happily blurted out I want Diet coke ‘Topless’.
Three of us and the waitress are looking at him with a big Q mark on our faces. The waitress is embarrassed and is fumbling for words and suddenly something clicks in A’s brain…oops I mean Bottomless coke (limitless)…
We were literally in tears with laughter and ‘A’ turned pink and purple with ‘gee I did it again’ look on his face.

P.S: More to follow ‘A’ and his hilarious antics.