What good is 'Typezriter'?

'Typewriter'.
It's apparently the longest word you can type on a single line of any keyboard. But not on my new phone with a keyboard-like keypad. Oh, no!

Next time you're buying a phone with a computer keyboard-like keypad, remember not to buy one from morons who don't get the awesomeness that is Qwerty keypads.

Life, the Universe and Unemployment

Uma Joshi ye ye ye
my mother, she told me a 60 years ago

there came an old man knocking at the door

with an ooh, aah, i want some pa

the pa is sweet, i want some meat

the meat is rough (?), i want to go by bus

the bus is full, i want to go by bull

the bull is fat, i want my money back

the money is green, i want some jelly beans
the jelly beans are red, i want to go to bed,

the bed is white, i want to say good night.

Believe it or not, this post has a point. But first,
Last night, I was thinking about the 80s. And then I thought my hair kind of looked like my dad's hair in the 80s for a while. I contemplated wearing shiny bell-bottoms and giant glasses-that-cover-half-my-face while I ride a bike indoors with my head banging in strange ways. But then, I had to discard the idea because I don't have shiny bell-bottoms (must add to birthday wishlist), giant glasses-that-cover-half-my-face, a bike, the knowledge of how to ride a bike, indoors that can accommodate bike-riding, the ability to shake my head in more than 3 ways and thankfully, the hair. I swear, my dad looked like a farmer going to the disco back then. Psychotic!

 
But, back to 'Uma Joshi. It's one of the most popular rhymes/games you play as a child brought up in India during the 80s. Uma Joshi's mother here reminded me of something. Or wait. Is Uma Joshi the mother? So misleading. Anyway, presuming that Uma Joshi is the mother, she and the old man who came knocking at her door 60 years ago reminded me of something. Lately, I've been unemployed. It was great at first, but then it became a drag, and then it became painful and now it's just unemployment. There is just one thing to be said about unemployment. It is EVIL. It makes you stop doing nice things like believing in yourself and start doing unnecessary things like whining all the time. And soon enough, among all the nothingness and frustration and fury and low self-respect and a gigantic zit, you spit out the one decent poem you've written in 2.5 months before you go crying to your blog about all of it. I've lost count of how many stupid minutes a day I spend complaining about my boredom and futility. I'm like the old man who came knocking at Uma Joshi's door 60 years ago. Every day of my life I keep asking for this and that and that and that and something better than that. And then one day, I will say goodnight and go to sleep unhappily after complaining about the colour of my bedspread. We all are. But, your life be yours. The Universe has requested me to shut up now, and I plan to oblige.


Random question: If I write Do-Do would you read it as 'dodo'?   .

In true March Madness style

I've rekindled my thing with making random lists on whatever I get (usually tissue paper) and carrying them around wherever I go. And it's still awesome!

I've had a more or less eventful month this March.

- got very busy with work
- thought I was finally working things out in my head about my seemingly never-ending emotional woes, but failed understandably. There's only so much you want to deal with.
- understood exactly how important I actually am where I work and how I can take advantage of it
- spent a fun 2 weeks with one of my favourite persons in the world
- looked forward to having a crazycityexperience-cum-lazy-cum-adventurous-cum-inspiringartsyetc vacation, and ended up having a completely 'city' vacation but loved it anyway
- discovered that I like fast, ruthless cities like Mumbai almost as much as I like lazy, friendly cities like Bangalore and Pune
- re-discovered my love for Stumbleupon, blogs, online-reading and all the fun that internet is
- continued see-sawing between "nothing seems appealing" and "everything seems awesome"
- re-confirmed my doubts on this universe being a bitch and love being psychotic and annoying. But then  there's no Peace and Happiness without Love sittingly stoutly inbetween. So, I'm trying to let live if not live.

But apart from all the random nonsense that's been on my mind, this month has also been painfully retrospective. A new job, lots of new books, new people and may be a new place is on the cards. Just don't know which damn card. I'm sure it'll come to the surface 'one fine afternoon' (ya see what I did there?), just like everything else :)

Till then the job-hunting has resumed full swing, I'm reading like a maniac every chance I get, I'm writing and stowing stuff away secretly again and I'm beginning to like what I write again. I think lots of varied writing will pop up in here and everywhere else very soon.

I also think that it's funny that I find this on a T-shirt to be freaking hilarious:

(Like a blog post is ever complete without a)PS: You see what I mean when I say the list-making thing is back?

With some people it's always either drown or soar. Never moderate.
I always prefer moderate, whatever it comes to.

But then, am I confusing 'moderate' with 'mediocre'?

Story

There are some stories that have no significance at all, but you know that you're going to be telling it for a long time to come. This is one of them.

It was a usual day. I was in a hurry to go to some usual place. I'm always in a hurry.
Now, I wish I had an alternative mode of transport that comes as easy. But since I don't, I spend half my salary on auto-rides. So, I was waiting for an auto like any other day. One was parked a few metres away from me, but somehow I did not want to approach the driver standing next to it. After a few minutes of looking about like a homeless person, checking the time a million times and stomping my foot down in frustration as my phone continued to ring, he came. The auto driver standing and eating ice cream next to his parked vehicle came to me. He asked me where I wanted to go, I gave him vague directions and he nodded.

I seated myself and we took off. About 20 metres into the journey, he stopped the auto and said "bere aato thagoli madam" (take another auto, madam). By this time, I was anxious and had thrown my phone into my bag, to stop myself from checking the time again. I continued to sit inside, wondering how much longer it's going to take me to find another auto. I was imagining excuses I could give to the people that have been waiting for me. I was about half an hour late already. If I didn't get another auto in the next 5 minutes, including the transporting time, I would be over an hour late!

I don't know how long I sat there thinking, but I was interrupted when the driver finally looked back at me. I could see that he wasn't going to move. I had to get off. I thought to myself that there must be some problem with his vehicle and that's why he wanted me to take another auto instead. I climbed out of the auto and started looking around desperately once again.

I was searching the roads frantically and giving dirty looks to the tailor that stares a lot, when I heard an engine revving. There was no mistaking it. The distinct sound that old-fashioned autos (the ones with no electric meter or green exteriors or mobile-charging points) make when they're about to take off. My hopes of reaching in time to catch people before they leave and convince them to stay, were soaring high. I turned dramatically, with the hair swishing and everything. And almost immediately, my eyes widened in horror.

The auto that I had just climbed out of, was starting to move. I began to jog towards it. May be he had fixed the auto. If I manage to get his attention in the rear view mirror, may be he will drop me. I might actually reach my destination before everyone left! I almost had a relieved smile on my face, when I stopped abruptly in my tracks. The auto had halted a few metres before me. The enigne was still on, but he had stopped. I was smiling now. He had seen me in the mirror and stopped for me.

I took another step and before I could register what was happening, the auto driver had picked up another girl and sped off into the dirty bi-lanes of JC Nagar. As I stood there gaping behind the auto, almost waiting for him to come back, I could've sworn he smirked at me in the rear view mirror!

I stood there in utter horror, trying to tell myself that this was not one of those things that never happens to others. This is not one of those stories that would contribute to the reasons my life "should be on primetime".

Another auto soon came by, and I climbed in. I had a long way to go and very little time to do so.
 ------------

And thus is the story of the time I got dumped by an auto driver. It will be told in excruciating detail, may be even in the exact same words (with a few classic strange expressions thrown in), for a long long time.