These Are Crazy Days!

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It is the worst of days. I am certain I have at least fifteen kilos in my backpack today, and ten kilos is stuff I have to submit for evaluation that is not quite complete. (I go to school :)) (And the school gives homework ­čśë )

My friend is ill, and believe me she is MISERABLE when she’s there. I can suggest things that benefit her, but she yearns to be a doctor and has Ifs and Buts for everything I may have to say. Obviously, she’s been through the list already.

Plus, it’s a rainy day, and I love the rain… but I’m stuck in the middle of the classroom, too far from the windows for my liking… so I’m working out who’s seat to beg, borrow or steal…

That’s just the atmosphere of the whole thing… there are still more important matters that are worrying me… Oh goody, they all come under one heading- Grades. ­čśë

I get good grades. I want good grades. If I don’t get good grades I must have tried not to get them. It’s like that.

So this semester, when I’m not getting very great grades and I didn’t particularly “ask for it”… I’m at war. Why the hell have I lost marks like this?

Let’s talk about the GK Paper. (Yep, we still have those… Neolithic huh ­čśë )

There’s this question, and it has four options. The usual. Tick mark the correct option, and get marks if it’s right. Simple. Though sometimes I wonder if correct means correct-correct or what-will-be-accepted-correct. But anyway, here’s the Q…

Statement: Military training should be made compulsory in schools.

Person A: Yes, because every person has the right to protect his country.

Person B: No, because one should not indulge in violence.

Whose viewpoint is correct?

So that was the Question. And here are the four options to choose from…

A- Person A

B- Person B

C- Neither

D- Both

Now think a moment. It’s a twisted Q with twisted opinions, and frankly, they are asking whose viewpoint IS CORRECT. So I understand if you wanna roll your eyes. Yeah right, dictate viewpoints now. And think about us kids, who had to actually ANSWER what the CORRECT viewpoint was. Wonder how they claim they don’t wanna make homogenous robots out of us then. ­čśŤ

Anyway.. hope you’re still thinking. So either form an opinion or go along with me..

So.. what I thought… and whatever answer you form of your own, PUT IT IN THE COMMENTS PLSSS

I thought: Military training, schools, compulsory. We’re talking of a pretty dictatorial regime. So I can safely kick out Person A’s idea… and anyway, rights should mean an option, a freedom to want to protect the country, Not making it compulsory… As to Person B, had you not given me the statement, I would have still disagreed. Sure violence should not be indulged in. But tell that to all the armies of all 191 countries that await standing instructions. Too ideological.

So there goes my vote to Option C- Neither.

And there goes a huge cross out. It’s wrong? So what’s right?

Option A they say. Why?

Wait for it…

Because the book..

..from which they got the Q…

says so.

Oh ok. But why?

Because it says so.

And that’s the end of the matter. I ask one more question, and it becomes a Question To Authority. And I certainly can’t afford that what with the hugessst exams of the year coming up.

(It’s not always so unfair. Just that this test I lost a hefty four marks on things like this, and I’m pretty pissed.)

Enter another test. Last for this post. English.

Not a good result again. But why not… man, it’s almost murderous.

I think my teacher doesn’t know the meaning of ‘per se’. That’s perfectly okay… But it gets excessively awkward when I have to go and tell her…. She’s the teacher after all..


I like that teacher. ­čśŽ She’s sweet. And that would be mean of me…

So I sulk and live with it, but don’t go and claim the arks I have lost for that “jumble” (since she didn’t understand what the words were..)

But we are both disappointed with my paper. She says she was expecting more from me. But that’s okay. I was from her too. ­čśë

(Peeps at school, that was a JOKE. Just to make it clear. ­čśÇ )

So we talk about it. I sulk some, she nods some. I sulk more, she nods some more. Then I ask her if I could still try for a bonus test we give to cover for those marks, though I know I’m past the deadline.

And she agrees. See what I mean? She IS nice ­čÖé

So I have the weekend to read for that, and I do. I read over my sister’s birthday. I read through my favourite movies. I read through rainy days :/

But I read.

And I reach on time, I even pull up my tie for a serious look!

And she refuses.

She’s already entered the marks in the final list, and she can’t change. Sorry.

Do I burn or do I burn!!!! Fine whatever, I didn’t get too good grades! But I got grades like everybody else, even close to a rival’s and damnnn, that’s NOT okay.

I vent some of it out in my role as Antony (William Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar) and I must sound pretty Roman then… and dramatic. And like Antony.

Eventually, with all that disappointment, and anger, jealousy… and a dire want for mutiny against the teachers, I just didn’t feel too good. Nibbling at chocolate didn’t help.. Wind didn’t help… Rain helped a little… I missed my best friend. And he was away…

Sadistic day… dismal even…

And then there’s a turn.

“Ruchika, meet me outside after class.”

The English teacher. Ohkay… So while I’m cursing everyone to sit their idiotic asses down and shut their idiotic mouths up, has she actually come up with some compensation?

After class she somewhat forgets she asked me to come out and I run after her. Then she tells me….

(She’s an angel!)

“Ruchika, come for the test in the next class, I’ll be in the faculty, and I have yet to enter some marks so I can change it.. So, come then.”

“Ma’am.. if you’ve entered them.. I understand I was late-”

“No, it’s okay. I understand.. I can do this much, specially when I know you work for it. Had it been someone else who I know is just here for the marks I wouldn’t. But you have been working and I can do this…”

That’s right! I work! YESSSSSS man! THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!

Day’s looking better already huh ­čÖé

I got the grades. Finally ­čÖé

So what do I do now, backspace the entire post? ­čÖé

And magically, ABSOLUTELY magically, my friends become fun too! They’re back to their usual craziness. Like what, I’ll tell you..

Nome of them is a big fan of marriage. They almost condemn it like top critics. They frown and shrivel their nose and what words they use would scare a new bride to bits! So when I heard them talking of EXTRA-marital affairs, I listened. Woaaaahhhh. Not just any extra-marital affairs, THEIR OWN.


They planning on getting married AND having an affair? They PLANNING?!

Now this is interesting. Vansh is planning on giving his wife all the freedom.. but to a limit ­čśŤ She can’t have an extra marital affair though. Tut-tut!

Nisha and Ria have decided they will DEFINITELY have one affair. Because, come on, “it’s a dual source of treats” (Ria) and come on, “one boy for the REST OF YOUR LIFE??? Let’s be practical” (Nisha).

Of Course the names are changed, or they’d kill her.

Of course they were joking.

Of course I breathed free when I realised they were.


But wait.. they’re not done. ­čÖé Vansh wants a wife who plays Play Station! But obviously, she shoudn’t be able to beat him. I ask him, politely mind, if he has some match making site in mind for that kinda specification… or if his radar is on already. And to that he grunts Imagine! As if he was talking sane himself!

And that was just the beginning… Then I met a long lost friend, yapped and yapped abut music to two fellow junkies, got gifted chopsticks by a real tight friend cause it was “about time I learnt how to use them” (I’m practising on Two Minute Noodles hehe) and there was chocolate truffle for lunch! Imagine!

Now isn’t it the best of days ­čÖé

And wowwie… my best friend’s back. Say cheers everybody.

This won’t be the first time writing on my blog has given me something good. Maybe it’s lucky for me ­čÖé

But let’s see for how long.. there’s still seven prime hours of the day left to decide if it’s the best of days or the worst ­čÖé But what’s definite.. is that these are crazy days ­čÖé

Till then… Ta ta!


Oh and don’t forget to answer the Question! Military training one… from the options ­čÖé


Of Cows and Pools

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No, dear dear reader, the pools I mention are NOT dung pools. Not quite as bad as that. But I’ll start at the beginning.

Though I hadn’t intended for this to be a part of the post originally, I might as well tell. I went to take a particular test to enrol for an English Language course today. I was told I was too good for it, and should probably wait till I’m an adult and try then. I never said I was modest!

I ride my bicycle to the swimming pool every evening. It’s been rainy lately, so I decided to outrun the rain clouds and go earlier today. Nice idea, because there was a soft breeze out when I peddled ever so calmly through the kilometer. Even the people in cars (a cyclists favourite enemies) were calm today.

Nope! We won’t notice even this one! Not even if she was in the middle of an intersection.

Now let me tell you something about cows. In India, it’s not really unusual to find cows roaming their lazy ass on the roads, even the ones cars zoom over. You can find one in any part of the country, but then you might just not. The point is, if there IS a cow on the road, no Indian would take much notice. All we do is honk though it never helps, eventually sigh and wait and then speed away.

But this time I noticed.

Because they weren’t just cows, they were two nice fat buffaloes, and they weren’t just walking, they were having a war dance with their curly horns interlocked tight. Not too far away was a cream coloured cow. I flashed glance between her and the black angry males and knew it all. It is ALWAYS the same. Please girl! Tell me that’s not happening over you!

I giggled. The passivity that girlfriend was showing was the record in all time coolness! Attitude, huh?

So I got to the pool all right.

And I got to the deck all right.

But after that nothing was ‘all right’.

The thing about rain is that we love it so much every time other than when it troubles us. And when it’s the first showers, we are so stuck up with the beauty and Facebook updates that we don’t remember it also troubles us. But this is what it had done, to the sweet pool I was hoping to take refuge in. (This is not the pool I go to. It’s just a pic from Google to show what my pool had become. And after all, how is grime and muck of one place different from another? The caption’s from the original picture.)

Green Pool
The Gross Green Swimming Pool.

Okay, I was not prepared for that.

All I had thought was that there would be less people in , thanks to the rain. I hadn’t come to this…

Oh whatever! I jumped right in. Yes, when it comes to hygiene and fun, there IS a big chance I would choose fun. And then I thought about the people in rural areas who bathed in lakes like this, and also got natural vaccination from Hepatitis A.

But I am quirk-some too… I wasn’t in for two minutes that I had decided to just do the backstroke after all. Gone were all the underwater stunts… gone were the mushroom roll-ups…. gone were the races… the fun…

At least I could still make mermaid swishes inside the water, pretending my legs were the long tails we learned to envy in kinder garden.

But then an eye-opener. Naturally there were some insects too in the water (though a man was working diligently to get them out.) A crow spot it’s lunch close by me, swooped down, picked it up in it’s beak and….

after a few paces, dropped it back.

Even the crow discarded it. Whatever in the world!

The green water was noisily teasing the boards around the pool. ‘1.3 metres.’ or ‘2 metres.’ Nothing mattered, the green-ity was so dark, you couldn’t see a foot beneath you!

How long could my persistence survive? I came back home, dirty wet. And came online to tell the tale.

What a day, huh?


A full day

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It was dark. Infinitely dark. Disoriented, glazed, I sat back in the chair, the only thing I could feel present. Where were the walls, the steps, the┬áends?┬áThe dark hid it all. Sweat gathered on my brow. It was cold, yet I was sweating. In fact, it was so cold, the nape of my neck was chilling. I bundled up, the closest I could, but the silence, the dark and the cold were easily winning…

And then, far away, amidst sheer nothingness, some words popped out….

‘No animals were harmed during the making of this film.’

And the movie began. And you know what, I wasn’t so cold anymore. It was a light comedy, (which is a silent way of telling the directors that if it was meant to be anything else, it didn’t work.) called ‘Ferrari Ki Sewarri’. Now, since I have more foreign┬áreaders┬áthan┬áIndian, which I’m┬ápleasantly┬ásurprised to know, I will give you the English translation. ┬áIt means Ride in a Ferrari. It was fun. I┬áwondered┬áin between, if the protagonists in my on-going story, Jacko and Jenny, would like a movie in their life… I decided against it. Jenny won’t sit still and Jacko wouldn’t give much response, and anyway, no one would take them.

So after all the┬ámedium size┬ásix inch Pepsi, and bag(s) of popcorn and laughing and crying and racing one-another in the hall (what, I was with my cousins!), it ended. I just love the way one┬ágrins┬áafter a movie finishes. You can’t help it, and it’s for no reason! I love it.

So that’s how my day ended. But I know you’re hardly convinced┬áthat┬ámy ‘full day’ was really full and this isn’t your time’s worth yet, so okay, I’ll say┬áwhat all really happened.

Start with┬áthe┬ábreakfast. A VERY IMPORTANT THING. LISTEN TO THEM WHEN THEY CALL IT THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL. I had cold macaroni salad with, nothing else. Because┬áthat’s┬áhow a normal breakfast goes, not with rounds of milk and cheese and juice and berries as┬áthey┬ásay in them picturesque books, like Heidi. What, this isn’t a movie going on here, it’s a┬áReal┬áBreakfast. And yes, I did have water!

I’m guessing my dietary plan isn’t going to be┬ávery┬áinteresting any further so just wind┬áthe┬áclock forward a few hours. It is late morning (that only┬ásounds┬áoxymoron-ish) and my mom, uncle and aunt, and me are off to a market to buy lights. Like wall lights and a humble┬áchandelier┬á(now this IS an oxymoron) for the house. I find it very┬áimportant┬áto mention here that┬áthe┬áfirst shop we went in and the first set my aunt and me chose, was┬áthe┬áone we eventually bought after one hour and a half of roaming around a chaotic, dingy and wet market, having┬áclimbed┬áfour flights of stairs and got down too of course, which makes it eight, and such stunts. (It was fun okay, but we had it in the first place!)

I discovered some fun things on the way. The market we went to, Bhagirat Place it’s called, is not a very hep place. Now everyone has their definitions but it’s a part of Old Delhi so┬áthe┬áthings are basically old fashioned and have a pace of their own. It’s actually like a masterpiece, you can’t TRY and create such places as are in Old Delhi. Like, I counted one temple, TWO Guru-dwaras (holy place for the Sikh), a mosque AND a church. All on┬áthe┬ásame road, even sharing walls. Now that’s National Integrity. And┬áthey┬áweren’t just ordinary buildings, one of the Guru-dwaras was where a Guru was martyred. The mosque is THE mosque of the nation. The temple is super duper famous, and has a Bird Hospital next to it. And yet, you won’t call the place religious. And you won’t call it patriotic either but that’s where a national flag is waved 24x7x365 on one of the country’s most important monuments- the Red Fort. That’s how amazing this place is. ‘Just no words’ has a meaning.

There’s lottttts for which the area is famous. And no one in the country has yet been able to shake the popularity this rural joint has. Like there’s this Paranthe Wali Gali. This is something like a Pancake Street. I read somewhere that you could describe a Parantha as a deep-fried pancake of wheat and stuffed vegetables which is optional. I had never been there. It’s not a place for hygiene freaks but it’s THE place for people who know TASTE. Melting, delicious and yumm are not just words anymore.

And then a ┬ásurprise. Even in the most ‘modern’ places in Delhi, there are soo many places where the simplest of spellings (English) are painfully wrong. Like ‘slacks’ become ‘slex’ and what not. But here, in a┬áminuscule sari shop, the words ‘Georgette’ and ‘Crepe’ were spelled perfectly right. Take that! All┬áthe┬árave about education and modernization and city better than town! Huh!

The notions┬ápeople┬áhave about Old Delhi! You call it unsafe? I didn’t ONCE feel threatened and I was wearing shorts. Dull? Have you ever FELT the rush of that place? Boring? I went into this street, where mostly silver was being sold, and in this window, there was a piece of lingerie hung up, of thin silver chains. The point I’m making here is creativity. Don’t laugh.

And then I felt what a wonderful day it was, specially with my three super-cool super-smart super-fun and super-etcetra family members.

Now I can’t stay long to tell you about the superman game later on, or about the race where if I lost I would be tickled to death, or the heated Mahjong tournament, but I think you get the idea. Just another day in my life when my cousins are here and it’s vacations!

And lastly, I recommend anyone who hasn’t done it yet to go and watch Madagascar 3 RIGHT NOW because it’s one hell of a joyride. And very well worth your time, if you did read THIS blog to the end! (Madagascar, I just came back from. :))