Monday, April 21, 2008

Remarkable relation

Last week I attended a bloggers' meet at a park in Dubai. It was great, seeing the virtual people who were the best buddies around...(and rivals too). All the people had a common creative backbone. In a matter of seconds, the unfamiliarity vanished. All actions were censored with humourous comments. I was quiet, humble and down-to-earth person to create the homely girl image. I rarely care about what people think about me, but I'm concerned not to be in the limelight. But being one of the few female bloggers, attention was very much focused.
There was an online friend for over two years who knew that I'm never going to take any pranks to heart. And he had challenged to bug me the whole day.
I helped with food-serving after which he told, "With you here, how come we have so much leftovers?" I just passed a pleasant smile at him so that no further talks went on. But the guy never meant to leave me alone. I was collecting the empty cans, half-eaten plates and putting it in a garbage bag when he said, "See, there is enough and more leftovers. Then why are you packing these home?"
As I turned red, he started laughing. But another guy took advantage of the situation to almost box his ears for talking that way. "Look, you're meeting her for the first time in your life. And how dare you be like that?"
It was then that the 80 people gathered around remembered that they've never met before. It was another realisation of the intensity and depth of technology-defined relations.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Perfectly imperfect

People are of different characters. And I like to accept them for their imperfect nature.
I had amusing experiences with a person quite normal, but never heard well. He was a colleague of mine and had no hearing problem, but just that he never concentrated.
Once, when six of our colleagues were having lunch in the food court, I sneezed and he asked me, “What happened to your father? What did he do?”
We all were shocked and asked, “What father? What are you saying?
He said he heard me saying ‘father.’ I said that all I did was sneeze.
Another incident happened in the car with the same guy. I was talking to him about brother’s wife who suddenly went to Kerala, as she is pregnant, but has some uterus complications.
This guy is driving and he suddenly asked me, “Oh, that’s sad, your brother has uterus complaint?”
I wanted to punch on his nose but just told him, “I was talking about my brother’s wife! How can he have a uterus!” We laughed so much that day.
Another realisation that it is the variety of species that make the world exist.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Missing alphabet

I hate people who say they are busy after attending their phone calls. I think you should not be answering if you don't have the time for the caller.
But then, I did exactly the same in a crucial situation last week.
After five minutes I received a text message. "Having 10 passes for the tennis tournament as if your friends are interested."
Reading this, I concluded that she is angry with me. I called her and arranged for meeting up the next day.
Amidst our chit-chat, she asked whether I had enquired with my friends about going to watch the match. I started apologising to her complaining about the hectic routines. She was wonder-struck by my reaction. Explaining the situation, I showed her the message and she burst out laughing.
"It is a matter of 'K'."
I was sure that I've made a fool of myself but didn't have a clue. She re-read the message for me. "Having ten passes for the tennis tournament ask if your friends are interested."
I had no words.

Blurred imaginations

Men always tend to be bad learners. Or maybe it is the anti-instinct within me that makes me feel so. A confession I have to make is that I always prefer guys as close buddies. I believe they are more secretive. And I have a conclusion that guys are the most talkative, once given a chance. Most often, ladies don’t let them.
I debate with my female friends sidelining with my male friends and do the vice-versa while encountering with guys. In retrospection, I feel guilty over the matter. Frankly speaking, I can’t make a fair judgement and cunningly keep away from speaking my stand. Also, I feel there is no point in being a feminist or otherwise.
All these thoughts stormed into in my head while talking seriously to a close friend. A schoolmate came along and surprised me.
She started her talk. “Oh! It’s so long we’ve met. And, gosh! You’ve become so fair. Have you been using any new cosmetics recently? And see… this is the new bag and shoes I bought last week…blah, blah.”
My male friend was patiently listening to her conversation with me. And after she left, he told me in disgust, “ Sami, you were speaking like a girl!!!”
“Hey, I am a girl and how do u expect me to speak?” That was my immediate answer. But it set me wondering whether there was something wrong with me. I get along pretty well with everyone. But, where do I belong? Or, is there a need of belonging somewhere.

Learning it the hard way

I advised him many a times to quit smoking as I was in the anti-cigarette squad. He was my colleague, or more, he was brother to me. He was the person that I always thanked God and I could not afford to see him doing something that was harming his health and others too. But then, he had his justifications.
On that particular day, he stormed off the office telling me that ‘he’s gonna smoke three cigars instead of two.’ (Oh! that was the outcome of my one-hour lecture). And down the office building, he was just about to light his cigarette that a pile of concrete fell over his head. The office building was still under construction and it was one of those safety issues. Our programme director rushed him to the hospital and later he called me to tell that he had nothing but ‘just twelve stitches on the head.’ After all, he was the comedian of our radio station.
Back in the office after two weeks of rest, I noticed that he never took a ‘break,’ other than for his lunch. When asked he said, “The concrete that landed over my head was powerful than your lecture.” And we burst out laughing. Yes, he learned his lesson. It was a tough way to learn.