The Boringest Week Ever

Week? Month. Whatever...
All my seniors who took gap years warned me that they get boring in February. I sailed through Feb. Swaggered through March. I told people that gap years were meant for me, I loved every second.
Then I ran out of things to do.
One day I was bored and lying on the couch watching strangely dressed NRIs dancing around in a K-Jo movie with fascinated horror. Maybe the florescent clothes hypnotized me a little. The next day I was throwing up five times a day and too weak to get up. That wasn't even the bad part.
The bad part was my mom waking me up to ask me if I was feeling ok and then telling me the silver lining of my sickness was that I might lose some weight.
Thanks Mom. Worst nurse ever!

Once I was better I realised that I had actually slept for four days, not one and missed a Chelsea semi-final. I also started suspecting that I wasn't actually Sherlock Holmes and that might have just been a fever induced hallucination. Both these facts depressed me a lot so I enrolled at the local swimming pool.

I hate swimming. My total lack of grace on solid land is only magnified in water. Moms probably point me out to their children as an example of how-to-not-swim. The other day I crashed into someone, floundered in the water till I was sure I'd drown and then grabbed a passing butt to regain sea level.

I thought I'd hit rock bottom till I went to the vegetable market, lost one of the two bags I was carrying and retraced my steps for half an hour in an effort to find it. The vegetable-seller-person suggested that I look in bag one to find bag two. I mean, do I really look that stupid? I nodded politely and walked away. Then I bought a watermelon, telling myself that I could eat it for four days and hence wouldn't have to come back to the horrible bazaar. Two minutes later I realize that I'm not strong enough to carry it home.

After staggering home with that giant watermelon (it was the smallest in the store) I'm taking some well-earned rest. Mom walks in. She launches into a whole worry thing featuring a mean conservative mother in law vs me. ME? I'm 22 and weddings scare me. Not to mention relationships, responsibility and commitment.
"Ma, can we not talk about this?"
"Why can't we talk about this? We never talk. These things are real. We should talk about it. Listen I'll totally beat up your mean mother-in-law!"
The imaginary one?
"You're going to miss me when I die and there's noone to beat up your mother-in-law!"
Yep, that wiped the smile off my face. Now I was just baffled.
Still not finished she goes on,"I'm sure you're gay. That's why you're so uncooperative when I try to talk about these things."
I got up and ran. Earphones!

Did I miss the headlining research on mothers-in-law being nicer when the couple is gay?

Maybe I'll start reading newspapers to get rid of this boredom. Be up to date on mothers-in-law and genetically modified mini-watermelons.

MIssion Pudding

Bro and I venture into the kitchen yesterday. It feels like an expedition, a voyage into the unknown.

Mission: To make pudding. Ready-mix pudding.

You take the powder and mix it in milk and heat it till it boils and then dump it in the fridge. One simple sentence of instructions?

I'm hunting in the fridge for milk. Mom seems to have put the milk into several separate containers. I find one with enough milk to use and stagger back into the kitchen. My brother helpfully hands me the powder. I immediately start juggling with the packet. Toss it from my right hand to my left hand. I'm so cool I can catch things. And,"OH MY GOD YOU OPENED THE PACKET!!!". There is a fine dust of powder all over the floor.

Much deflated, I start boiling the milk while my brother sweeps the floor and hides the powder behind the dustbin. Why not in it, I wonder?

My threshold of boredom being a little low, I hand over the job of stirring the milk till it boils to bro. Two minutes later there's a loud shriek. "IT"S BOILING AAAAAAAH WHAT SHOULD I DOOO??"

I jump in and turn off the flame before it boils over and we are left with nothing to show for our efforts. The genius hadn't thought of turning it off.

It's going to be a while before we venture back in there again.

Marital and martial are almost the same word. Just one letter changes place!

Hmm. I started a post with that sentence a week ago. Then I abandoned it. It could have been a good post. I don't know, depending on where it went.

I abandoned it because I didn't know where it could go.

Speaking of things headed in unknown directions. My teacher from school asked me to come speak to her class about career options. The reason she asked me to come speak to them is that out of the fifty students who were in my class, I am one of the two who did not become an engineer.

Things headed in unknown directions, did you say?

answer 1- my life.

answer 2- that talk.

Let's not discuss answer 1.

Talking to schoolchildren. Schoolchildren are scary. When I was in school we made it a point to try to reduce all the substitute temp teachers to tears. And the career counselling sessions! Well, I wouldn't know, I was bunking them and playing ping pong. Hmm, that could explain answer 1.

In summers I teach schoolchildren karate. Summer before last, they misbehaved, I refused to punish them because I was just one year out of school and thought I was one of them. Then sir punished me for failing to maintain order.

Last summer, two of the boys thought it would be funny to run in circles when I told them to practice their kicks. So before I was punished, I went ahead and punished them. Thirty sit-ups. We start from one each time you stop you little buggers. Then I felt REALLY happy about punishing them. Then I felt REALLY guilty for feeling really happy about punishing them. They had turned me in to a monster!

This summer I haven't turned up in the club yet.

Maybe they've reformed schoolchildren since last summer.

Grandchildren

Yesterday, at the mall, mom demanded grandchildren. For a second I was sure I was going to fall down and hit my head on the floor, forget the moment and let it go. Then I didn't fall. Maybe I was too concerned about not letting the cheesecakes get ruined.

So I put forth my feeble defence. "Mom, I'm 21".

"I don't care. My friend from school had a grandkid last year, she keeps sending me pictures."

I skim through possible replies/plans of action in my head. Mom, but I'm 21/ It's not a competition/burst into tears/run away as fast as I can, with the cheesecake.

While I'm thinking about which door is closest and planning the best escape route she adds,"The only thing you are interested in is food. I have to bribe you with cheesecake to make you come to the mall. I could take my grandchildren shopping."

At this point I actually felt a pang of pity for the hypothetical grandchildren.

Then astonished at my own brain's uselessness, I come up with the reply "But I just got into university."

"Yeah but I have to have grandchildren so they can inherit my jewellery. You aren't interested in jewellery. I looked for abandoned children in the bushes whenever I went for evening walks but never found any."

(She's been out for two evening walks in the last two years.)

AND THEN. Then the ridiculousness of the whole conversation hit me. I finally come up with the correct reply. "Let's go home. You can ask bro if he is willing to go get you some grandchildren."

Clutching cheesecake, we make our way back in happy silence.

2011 was epic. I graduated college and bagged a college honor. Both very unexpected, as my parents told me. My brother graduated school and got into college as anticipated. My parents completed twenty five years of being married to each other.

And to celebrate....... family trip.

SO we board a flight to North bengal, book a room in a resort near the jungle, and with Axl Rose singing 'Welcome to the Jungle' in my head, punctuated with my Mom screaming at me to pack more clothes, we're off.

Like true bongs we have packed enough warm clothes to withstand Arctic cold, with mom seriously considering buying a monkey cap, and once there we don't know what to wear. Because it is HOT. In the day atleast. Evenings we all flaunted those skull caps.

In the flight there is an unfortunate child in front of me wearing a sweater knitted by her grandmother. The body is sky blue and red stripes. The arms are cobalt blue and red stripes. Gran ran out of sky blue wool it seems.

Day 1: Lyaadh. (yeah, sorry, this is still my family's trip)

Day 2: Jungal Safari

Jungal Safari turned out to be very dusty with not an animal in sight. Just a lot of elephant poop as the driver pointed out proudly.

Then there was the trip to see the Kanchenjungha. I really don't know how to spell that. My dad stared out at the horizon and after a moment of scrunching his eyebrows finally asks us..."Where is it?" My brother points. Dad hadn't thought to look above the clouds.

And skip skip some boring parts, some depressing meals because the chef was sick it's the last day.

Looking at a CUTE rhino from a watchtower, followed up by tribal dances and drinking their salty tea, it's time to go back to the room, driving through the forest in the dark, followed by fireflies.

Peace to everyone. Have an epic 2012.

the next edition of our family trips kicks off tomorrow morning. the previous editions have included mom getting stung by jellyfish, mom getting pickpocketed, mom unable to breathe through a snorkel and more such family bonding moments.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Weaver in Wonderland

Being an intern for a science magazine is great. I get to read and write about stuff I love.

Then there's the socializing part. Which, for me, is non-existent. In lunch hour I slip out to this dirty little dhaba, sit in a corner and read the newspapers while eating something which I know is tastier than the food in the office canteen. I like being left to myself.

Yesterday though, there was a tea party. It was somebody's wedding anniversary and she was treating everyone in the office to a high tea. She invited me too and after pretending to be deaf and invisible I gave in to her repeated requests to join everyone and turned up in the lounge to be a part of the party.

The food was nice.

And then things started to go wrong in the way things can go wrong only when you are the only 21 year old at a party populated by people above 40.

The first topic of discussion that came up was who retires when. Given that I have atleast a couple of years to go before I even get a job, I started getting a little depressed.

Then they move on to talking about diets. Everyone has blood pressure and sugar. Nobody eats anything except at tea parties like this because the hostess insists. (lol-ing all around) The boss says she's going to starve herself all week and then go get her blood sugar tested. (more lol-ing)

The two ladies beside me are wondering in whispers... 'what is her name?' 'the intern, she's so quiet'. I start feeling vaguely like Alice at the Mad hatter's tea party. Too small. Maybe they can't see me, I hope.

At this point I forget that I can be seen and stop focusing on keeping my face blank. A distinctly upset look starts to spread across my face and someone comments on it. 'Hey! The kid doesnt need to diet. So I think she's bored.'

I'm trying very hard to smile and be all 'noo noooo, hey this is interesting.'

Then a man turns up, he has a meeting with the boss. He's small and has white whiskers. The party is over. I thank the white rabbit man in my head and go back to my cubicle.