Proud to be Proud

Proud to be me

Proud to be a woman

Proud to embrace my androgynous self

Proud to be fashionable – be it sports shoes with formal pants, or high heels with short skirts

Proud to be a part of my team

Proud to see genuine change in these office walls

Proud and happy to see ads on tv representing the place I work

Proud to be an Indian

Proud to be a Corporate activist – bringing bigots and racists down to their knees

Proud of Pride Month

Proud to be a part time geek and a full time freak

Proud that I can spread my wings and fly

Proud to be so proud 🙂

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Why Size Zero is in

To all you horrid bitches who made fun of me in high school
Who asked me embarrassing questions about my bra size
Who spread rumors that I was anorexic
Who said no boy would look at me because I had a flat chest
Who mocked me for having matchstick legs

I cannot wait to meet your fat and frumpy selves at the school reunion 🙂

.

Postscript after attending the reunion:
To the reunion I did go
And there what did I see?
The ‘fat and frumpy’ people
Were way hotter than me 😦

The head-girl of the school
Gave a compliment to me
And I was thrilled and oh-so-kicked
That she acknowledged me

And then I sat and wondered,
Does high-school ever end?
Perhaps it’s just my attitude
That really needs to mend!

😉

Stressed Out

What do I do to de-stress?

  • Eat snickers or any chocolate with nuts/crunchies or plain ol’ kadlakai
  • Speak to ashu or ashu
  • Listen to lots and lots of synthpop or the Beach Boys or Himesh Reshamiyya’s pre-Karz music
  • Eat a mint
  • Slog my ass off at work or clean my room 15 times
  • Think of Saturday and the things I will do on Saturday
  • Go shopping if it’s a Saturday
  • Stay away from people who stress me out even when I’m not stressed out (the maami at work who cribs about her husband, my annoying sibling, the upstairs dog)
  • Bark back at the dog
  • Visualise myself doing lots of damage to the creator of the stress (I could either be a vampire sucking the life outta that moron, or a steam roller crushing all those vehicles causing the traffic jam)
  • Watch a comedy or Spongebob or the Powerpuff girls
  • Do NOT watch a sickeningly sweet movie full of morals and manners
  • Do NOT listen to John Denver
  • Write a witty witticism on my whiteboard, or take a chalk and write mean/stupid stuff everywhere (it’s not vandalism, chalk rubs off)
  • Read any company policy document – it is super entertaining.

How often do I stress out?

  • EVERYDAY!!!

No wonder I’m good at work, my room is clean, I’m high on music and I’m happy happy happy always!

😛

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Langda Tyagi Bahubali

“Hum langde…hargiz na the
Par hum ligament…bacha na sake
Humko mili…uski saza
Plaster cast….lagwaana pada”

– A’s dedication to Trauma ‘Langda Tyagi*’ Queen

It all started a month back….I had just won myself a ‘fun award’ at the office party for the category of ‘best smile’. I was going to collect my prize, but gravity suddenly defied me…. I was flying in the air and before I knew what was going on, I crash landed on my back. I opened my eyes to see utter shock on everybody else’s face, as if I had met with a car accident or something.

In my enthusiasm to collect my prize, I missed a step and tripped. To make matters worse, my three inch heels were instrumental in differentiating ‘a fall’ from ‘a bad fall.’

Now a party is a party, so I danced nevertheless, cos what the hell, a stupid sprain is a stupid sprain. Alas! When my stupid sprain had swollen to the size of a tirupathi ladoo that night, I knew that something was amiss.

“Nazar lag gayi” (the evil eye) was what mommy said. “Ligament Tear” was what the doc said. For those who do not know what a ligament tear is, please to see the copyrighted picture below:

Now nothing could be better than 10 days of Spongebob, Nickolodeon and Cartoon network. And of course, a whole lot of pampering from my folks 🙂

But the ways of the corporate world are different, you’re not only incessantly bothered by calls from the office when you’re watching spongebob, you have a mountain of work waiting for you when you get back.

So I hopped about with my crepe bandage, much to the joy of my colleague A who kept shouting ‘Langda Tyagi Bahubali’ every time I limped past him. His virus spread and my ‘office-ial’ nickname is now Langda Tyagi. Limping is a pain, but the nice thing about being a Langda Tyagi is that everyone spoils you rotten, office meanies are forced to be nice to you, etc etc.

The trauma started when the swelling did not reduce after two weeks, and I was told to wear a plaster cast. As if my sister and her kids coming down was not shocking enough, I had to pack all my high heeled shoes (doctor’s orders) and the only footwear I could wear were my bathroom slippers. I struggled to walk with crutches, and had to take extra care with where and how I walked; had to plasticate myself every time I took a bath (BIG PAIN) and oh, the real trauma is the body ache that is a result of transferring the weight of one entire leg onto the rest of your body. And somehwere in between I was being harassed by a loser on the phone. All in all, I clung on to the hope that after two weeks, the ordeal would be over.

Today was the day I was to be a cast-away! I was warned that post-cast trauma lasts for two days, what with the foot muscles becoming really weak and a frightening increase in hair growth in the plastered area. But who cares, the cast would be off and I would be Langda Tyaagi no more.

But the ‘evil eye’ has other ways of working… my doctor simply smiled and said “Oh your leg still hurts a bit??…Just a little bit?? Only in the mornings?? Just for “five minutes only doc”??? Not because of the ligment tear but the cast itself??? Well, you need to keep the cast on for another week or two…no further arguments.”

Another week OR TWO???? Am I destined to be a cast-ist for the rest of my life? Is the curse of Langda Tyaagi ever going to leave me??? Why why why??? All cos of missing a single friggin stupid step at a party…..aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!!! I miss my pretty shoes, I’m bored of wearing these chappals. I’m fed up of using those god-damned crutches (though I must admit I’m so agile with them now, I could win a para’limp’ic race or something)

“At least you did not hurt your head or your back” was what my mom said to console me. The twins and the niece are a great distraction and the best way to forget about the pain. My cols continue to pull my ligament…I mean leg…but oh well…another week (or two), and hopefully, this trauma will FINALLY be over.

Till then, I get to bully everyone around me to attend to each and every whim of mine, cos after all, I’m a Bahubali 😉

*Langda in Hindi means ‘lame’. Langda Tyagi is the character of Iago in an Indian adaptation of Othello

Single, not ready to mingle

I wish I were single
For the rest of my life
I wish people did not brand me a commitment-phobe just cos I prefer being single
I wish my reasons for wanting to marry were stronger than wanting to have legitimate children and safety from creeps
I wish I could take my mother’s view of seeing more boys…arranged or non arranged more seriously
Perhaps I should start meeting boys
Perhaps I should meet some lesbians
I want to know what true love is all about
I want to know if this is true love
I want to meet the one
I wish I were strong enough to make anyone the one
I wish I was not so confused
I’d like to believe there is no such thing as the one,
and if there is, I’d like to believe it’s me 🙂

A.m. I a narcissist?
A.m. I really too full of myself?
Could the auto-correct please stop printing ‘am’ as a.m.?
Do I use the word ‘I’ too often? In my blog? In my chats? In regular conversation?

I wish he did not get away
I wish he did not return
I wish things happened the way I wanted them to
I wish nice guys knew how to sing and dance
I wish I was a wildlife photographer
I’m using the word I too often

I hate wannabes, but have been accused of being one
I hate hypocrites, but I know I’m one
I hate having to fight with the people I love
But sometimes, I feel good letting them know exactly how I feel
I wish I could have a spiritual make-over, and ‘grow up’ as my sibling says
I wanna be a lady and go to charm school
I wanna be a radical and never wax my legs

I need to go now…..