If only this could work

So many friends I am havingg

Today, I decided to pay a remembrance to all the amazing little friends I've had throughout my childhood.  These were ones I rescued, fed, bathed, fed and looked after and who finally left me by either dying, running away or being stolen.

1. Mickey, the squirrel:  He was my brother's, actually. He invaded my brother's head, made a home there, shat on it, slept on it and thought the dense mass of curls was home. He never left his head to come say hello to us. I was too small and too scared of him. My dad found him one day while driving home from work (ah! a potential pet, he thought!). A baby squirrel, sitting near a tree, lost and lonely without a mom. I don't know how he left us but we were told he was sent to a "farm" with many more squirrels. So no harm done, right :) He's probably playing there still, must be 30 years old now.

2. A series of anonymous pups: We got a new pup home almost everyday (the neighbourhood bitch was quite frisky, you see). Brother and I would feed them, play with them and mom would scorn and disapprove. Dad was okay, but one day we realised that the pups needed to be clothed. So we made all of them wear my dad's T-shits, vests and underwear (why did we choose my dad's wardrobe, I will never know). But after that, my dad decided this little shenanigans needed to stop because he was running out of inner wear. And so all our pets were banned from being brought home. 

3. Kittu, the baby bird: One day, while my cousin and I were playing in my grandparents house, we saw a little a baby bird fall from a nest, on the floor. Her mother, it seemed, had abandoned her. Cousin and I immediately decided— "She will be our daughter," and daughter, she truly was. We took the role of Indian moms very seriously and decided the best way to bring up a child was by feeding it.....a LOT. Every time the bird opened her mouth to cry (probably was asking us to leave her alone but who knows, probably not) we fed her — from bread, vegetables, sugar, rice, curd to chocolate, mithai and more, we ensured she had a full, wholesome diet. Everything but that wretched bird food—ew, our daughter won't eat that! She slept in our room, we sang her lullaby's. She was becoming very well fed, and soon, we realised, this could be a problem. Her stomach started growing, and so we contemplated a strict diet plan. But nothing seemed to work. Her crying made us feed her more, her bloating tummy made us cry more. Eventually, her digestive system gave way....and she passed away. We gave her a very formal burial, just so you know.
This is a true story btw. No exaggeration.

4. Kittu, the cat: You see, when it comes to names, clearly I am very unoriginal. Her mother was killed in a tragic accident and so dad got her home. She was christened Kittu, in remembrance of not only my previously failed 'bringing up a bird project' but according to dad, it was a Ranjan tradition to name all cats 'Kittu'. As the drill goes, I took her in as my own child, washed her (she didn't need washing btw), fed her, tried to clothe her (dads underwear to the rescue!), tried to establish friendship between her and my family dog (who tried to eat her) and basically was a complete slave to her. She stayed in the basement and was extremely needy. I would wake up at 5 in the morning to feed  her milk in an ink dropper. I taught her how to climb up the basement stairs into the living room. Later I realised it was a big mistake. She would climb up, 'meow' on the dog's face and create a ruckus at home. Every day after school I would bolt towards the basement, hug her and tell her how much I missed her. She was always hungry and very space demanding. While our friendship lasted for a few months, our family dog decided it was time to turn on the dramatics—he stopped eating, threw a tantrum and basically made us get rid of the cat.

5. Jimmy, the tortoise: While driving to a new city that we were to call home, my dad yet again spotted a potential pet on the road—Jimmy the tortoise. I happily took him in and he sat on my lap throughout the journey. I had BIG plans for Jimmy, because our new house had a big garden. He would be the king of a new green, kingdom. I was happy about two things mainly—he would eat grass, thus I would not have to chart a diet plan for him. The second, he was a tortoise. They live for like a 100 years. Nothing I do will ever lead to his death. It was a win- win situation. He and I remained friends for precisely one night. The next morning he was stolen from our garden.

6. Red cap gold, the red cap gold fish: Now in retrospect, I do feel my parents should have staged an intervention. I mean, every afternoon I would sit in front of our aquarium, and talk to the fish, REALLY loudly (because I thought they wouldn't be able to hear me through the aquarium glass). I fed them fish food, chit-chatted with them, and considered them my new best friends. However, this friendship too was cursed. One day, our family dog jumped up, pulled them out of the aquarium and ate them. I was horrified, disgusted and heartbroken. There could be no burial. But I didn't speak to the dog for a whole day.


7. Mickey, the squirrel: Yes, just the way all cats were to be named Kittu, we decided all squirrels would be called Mickey. To cut a long story short — I fed him, took care of him and well, it was all short lived.  All in all, a lovely time spent and so many new lessons to learn.

Advertising and all that

Did I tell you about the time when an old ex-close-friend's-best friend very sneakily stole one of my picture and made an ad out of it? No? Then let me tell you about it. An old ex-close-friend's-best friend very sneakily stole one of my picture and made an ad out of it.

But then it's alright because post that we became friends and there was very little awkwardness left. And he also temporarily made me famous on facebook. I miss being famous.

Good day to you all.

What's on my mind...YOU tell me

I'm on crossroads and it's making me happyunhappy. I'm still where I was two years back, but I'm getting promoted. I've started a little creative project but I'm constantly worried about it. I haven't achieved all that I aspired to two years back but I've got a lot that I never thought of.

Happyunhappy. Its a paradox. From close quarters, it seems like nothing has changed. From afar, it's been one hell of a ride. I wake up every morning hoping for something new but nothing happens. Every weekend in retrospect I realise something has changed. I wait for time to pass by quickly; when I pause to breathe, I panic that time has flown.

Happyunhappy. Sometimes I think of my life and wonder, "What the hell is happening." Sometimes I sigh and smile, "Better this than that." She asks me, "What's up dude, update." I think, I ponder, I struggle, I resign and say, "Nothing." While sitting behind a rickshaw listening to some old melody, looking pensively at the road my life flashes like a movie reel and I think, "Life, stop being so eventful."

Happyunhappy. I dread the routine as it drains out the need to be creative, as I get ready to go to bed I giggle a little thinking how funny my own jokes are. I haven't made new friends but as I roll out the invites every 22nd November, I realise I need to trim the list. I detest my work most days, I fall in love with it when I see it in print.

Happyunhappy my days are. Confused, perturbed, irked and agitated through the day, I generally find that I still sleep well. It's rather annoying and mostly amusing. I don't know the state of my mind.

Have you ever come face-to-face with awesome?

.........no guarantee this is awesome. But it's pretty awesome because it's making me happy. http://www.facebook.com/LoLokplease?fref=ts my page for all my drawings and jokes.



This is going to be awesome

MAATROOO

 I wrote this long back for some work. Just found it. Posting it here :)


"Gaadi ki disha mein pehla dabba mahilaon ke liye aarakshit hai. Purush yatriyon se anurodh hai ki mahilaon ke liye aarakshit dibbon mein na baithei. Aisa karna dandniy apradh hai."

Some women may think the general compartment is one which sanctions a 'enter at your own risk,' with dirty men ready to brush against you with the pretext of jostling to the door. You may also get letched at by a bunch of adolescents, with raging gorilla hormones. But most women know not what awaits inside the WOMEN compartment. That, is a different, unchartered territory.

Here's a walk through that world and a precautionary list for the first timers.

1. Being over weight is one, but throwing your weight around is an altogether different story. Middle aged women with bums the size of two guest rooms are usually seen sitting smug on seats. Don't ask them to move, you will only get stared at.

2. There is a chance you may get hot boxed due to the aromatic extravaganza the Metro provides: deodrants, perfumes, sweat stench, ponds talcum powder, smoke, old socks, bear breath, stale/fresh tiffin food..etc. Try not to locate where each smell emanates from. You will only get stared at.

3. If you receive a call, message, mail or a tweet, if possible, avoid opening it till you reach home safely. Once the phone is opened, the ones plastered behind you will resolutely peek into your screen and read the notifications without embarrassment. Others who's vision is obstructed, will slide, move or stand on their toes, just to peek into your screen. Try not to look up at all those who were looking. Atleast 17 pair of eyes will stare straight at you. Remember, in Delhi, everybody's business is everybody business.

4. Try to avoid any movement or emotion while in the Metro. Laughing, sneezing, coughing, crying, hiccuping, scratching, snorting, smiling, breathing, ALL will earn you stares. Long stares, even. Everyone in Delhi stares at others like they are a piece of art. Hence, stay like a piece of art. Don't move.

5. Here, it is perfectly normal to pronounce Metro as 'matro', used abbreviations in casual conversation "Uske bf ka mere hubby ke fb pe comment dekha? Yaar, O Em Gee." Also, it is perfectly normal to hear things like, "Bhai, mera favourite rock artist Bryan Adams hai. Mera favourite rock band Boyzone hai, and Adheleee is a great rock singer." Don't comment at ALL. They will think one of two things: You don't know anything about music...or you don't know anything about music. You will also get stared at.

6. Don't hold conversations in English, over the phone or with a friend especially if you are travelling towards areas like Rajouri Garden, Punjabi Bagh. People will think you are a tourist, so you will be fleeced and stared at.

7. Try not to over hear broken English conversations or make grammatical corrections in your mind. You will have to eventually shoot yourself. Oh, yes, also, did I mention? You will be stared at.............I have no idea why.

Keep these pointers in mind. These will not ease your journey in any way, make you more street smart or help you brave the journey in the women's compartment. However, it's good to know the devil before you meet it. All the best, ladies!

Some awesomeness it surely is

It will be super awesome and it will be pretty.....awesome. I'm working on something and I am hopeful that at least some millions will like it and I'll be rich, since famous I already am.
.........................................

Actually, I am nervous and I am sweating. I have no idea what I'm upto and why I have worked this hard for it. I am not sure if people will like it. All I can hope for is that.................some millions will like it and I'll be rich, since famous I already am.

Anyway, that little something will be launched soon.

O, did I mention? Goa, is two days away. I am so excited and I am so excited.


Love

Thasssiit

I know it.

It's decided now. All I want for a career is to spoof movies.