He was 14 when he first started. He had seen his elder brother and friends do it, and it looked cool. And he wanted to be cool as well. He was a gawky, unattractive teenager. This was the best way to look cool and grab people’s attention, especially girls.
At 14, he looked cool.
At 16, he looked cool.
At 20, he looked cool.
At 22, he looked 30.
At 25, his lips looked like charcoal.
At 30, he looked ill.
At 40, he looked skeletal.
At 45, his lungs looked like tar.
At 50, his corpse didn’t look all that cool.
On World No Tobacco Day, I request all of you who smoke to try and quit smoking. It’s not going to do you any good in the long run. I know what all you smokers say, that it’s hard to quit, we’ve tried, it's not as easy as you think, etc. Well, I believe, if you want something badly enough, you will eventually get it. You just have to try real hard.
Don’t punish your lungs. They don’t deserve it.
Just try, won’t you? Believe me, no girl wants to kiss a mouth full of smoke.
And the girls who smoke, you don’t look any cooler or intellectual. No guy will want to kiss a mouth that looks, and feels, like cardboard. And don't punish your child even before it's born.
And the creative types who think that you can’t get your creative juices flowing without a cigarette, well, then you’re just underestimating your own creativity.
And all those who think that it’s none of my business to say all this, maybe you’re right. It’s none of my business. But since you’re not making it your business, I thought I should make it mine.
May 31, 2012
May 22, 2012
Orgasm first, foreplay later.
Am I the only one in this world who reads the last few pages of a book first?
Seriously. Why is this so hard for people to digest?
After reading the foreword, acknowledgement, and the first page of a new book, I flip to the last few pages and read the ending. Then I come back to the front again.
Is that really so weird?
Why do I do that?
Because it gives me immense peace of mind in knowing how the book ends, and once I know that, I can happily read the rest of the book. If it’s a sad ending, I’ll be prepared for it. If it’s a happy ending, I’ll be super-duper excited about it.
It’s as simple as that, really! There is nothing to break your head over it! And I really don’t think it’s weird. I think I caught that habit when Maari and I used to read Nancy Drew novels. The last few pages of the novels always used to have a making-out scene. So we used excitedly skip to the end and read those pages. :) I guess the habit just stuck on after that. Every single book that I read, I read the last few pages first, whatever be the genre.
Even with Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, I read the end first, found out who the prince is and who killed Dumbledore, and then started from the beginning. And the book was just as fascinating for me as it would have been for someone who didn’t know the surprise ending.
A line from When Harry Met Sally comes to my mind when people give me incredulous reactions at this habit of mine. Harry tells Sally, “I read the ending of a book first, so that even if I die without finishing the book, I’ll at least know how it ended”. Or something along these lines.
One of my friends, to whom I happened to mention this during our conversation, described it as similar to “wanting to have an orgasm before the foreplay”. Err.. I don’t think it’s like that AT ALL. :/
Do you guys have any habit like this that seems normal to you, but everyone else considers you cuckoo for it?
P.S:- For all those who eagerly opened the post after seeing the title, so sorry to disappoint you. What can I say, I'm a born tease. :p
Seriously. Why is this so hard for people to digest?
After reading the foreword, acknowledgement, and the first page of a new book, I flip to the last few pages and read the ending. Then I come back to the front again.
Is that really so weird?
Why do I do that?
Because it gives me immense peace of mind in knowing how the book ends, and once I know that, I can happily read the rest of the book. If it’s a sad ending, I’ll be prepared for it. If it’s a happy ending, I’ll be super-duper excited about it.
It’s as simple as that, really! There is nothing to break your head over it! And I really don’t think it’s weird. I think I caught that habit when Maari and I used to read Nancy Drew novels. The last few pages of the novels always used to have a making-out scene. So we used excitedly skip to the end and read those pages. :) I guess the habit just stuck on after that. Every single book that I read, I read the last few pages first, whatever be the genre.
Even with Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, I read the end first, found out who the prince is and who killed Dumbledore, and then started from the beginning. And the book was just as fascinating for me as it would have been for someone who didn’t know the surprise ending.
A line from When Harry Met Sally comes to my mind when people give me incredulous reactions at this habit of mine. Harry tells Sally, “I read the ending of a book first, so that even if I die without finishing the book, I’ll at least know how it ended”. Or something along these lines.
One of my friends, to whom I happened to mention this during our conversation, described it as similar to “wanting to have an orgasm before the foreplay”. Err.. I don’t think it’s like that AT ALL. :/
Do you guys have any habit like this that seems normal to you, but everyone else considers you cuckoo for it?
P.S:- For all those who eagerly opened the post after seeing the title, so sorry to disappoint you. What can I say, I'm a born tease. :p
May 17, 2012
From Amsi, with love
Be it the time you hit your face on the Luna while diving valiantly to take that catch when we were playing cricket, and you broke a tooth…
Be it the time you burnt your fingers during a flowerpot mishap that Diwali…
Be it all the times we played cricket inside our tiny little 2BHK flat, with a diary for a bat and the front door as the wickets…
Be it the times you took all the brunt of whatever mischief I had done, just because you were the older one…
Be it those countless times when we constantly fought over the phone, or that one single remaining hug-pillow, the twin of which we had hugged away to its ruin…
Be it the n number of movies to which you have let me tag along with you and your friends…
Be it letting me wear your clothes, even though they never fit me properly…
Be it the times we’ve fought over who will get to read the latest issue of Tinkle first, setting our own rule of ‘whoever sees it first gets to read it first’…
Be it the times when I finished off three-fourth of a bottle of Hajmola or a plate of grapes before you even noticed, and then you proceeded to count out the remaining ones and shared it equally…
Be it the way you always put an extra 1000 bucks in my account than what I had asked for…
Be it the fact that all the three phones that I’ve owned till now were sponsored by you, not to mention half my wardrobe…
Be it the way you call me Amsi…
Be it the way you yell at me for doing too much drama…
For all that and more…
I love you more than these mere words can ever express.
You are the best sister anyone could have ever asked for, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. Well, maybe for an iPhone. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, ok?
Happy 30th to the strongest and most delightful person I know (besides me, of course).
Happy b’day, my dear chech.
Be it the time you burnt your fingers during a flowerpot mishap that Diwali…
Be it all the times we played cricket inside our tiny little 2BHK flat, with a diary for a bat and the front door as the wickets…
Be it the times you took all the brunt of whatever mischief I had done, just because you were the older one…
Be it those countless times when we constantly fought over the phone, or that one single remaining hug-pillow, the twin of which we had hugged away to its ruin…
Be it the n number of movies to which you have let me tag along with you and your friends…
Be it letting me wear your clothes, even though they never fit me properly…
Be it the times we’ve fought over who will get to read the latest issue of Tinkle first, setting our own rule of ‘whoever sees it first gets to read it first’…
Be it the times when I finished off three-fourth of a bottle of Hajmola or a plate of grapes before you even noticed, and then you proceeded to count out the remaining ones and shared it equally…
Be it the way you always put an extra 1000 bucks in my account than what I had asked for…
Be it the fact that all the three phones that I’ve owned till now were sponsored by you, not to mention half my wardrobe…
Be it the way you call me Amsi…
Be it the way you yell at me for doing too much drama…
For all that and more…
I love you more than these mere words can ever express.
You are the best sister anyone could have ever asked for, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world. Well, maybe for an iPhone. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, ok?
Happy 30th to the strongest and most delightful person I know (besides me, of course).
Happy b’day, my dear chech.
May 7, 2012
Clicketty click (55 fiction)
Click.
There. She had finally had the courage to click on that button.
She had finally unfriended him from her Facebook list.
Now to work on removing him from her heart and her mind. If only there was a simple one-click button option available for that.
Unfortunately, there isn’t. That’ll take time. And some faith.
There. She had finally had the courage to click on that button.
She had finally unfriended him from her Facebook list.
Now to work on removing him from her heart and her mind. If only there was a simple one-click button option available for that.
Unfortunately, there isn’t. That’ll take time. And some faith.
April 30, 2012
On the market
So people, I’m on the market now. The Marriage Market.
Acha made me register on some matrimonial website, with the most decent-looking pic I could find, and one long description about me and about the kind of partner I’m looking for.
I did it just to get Acha off my back, because I'm in no way ready to get married right now. I created the profile and then left it to him to handle it.
Wrong call.
Because what do I see now when I open the account? My dad has sent ‘interest’ to countless moustached Mallu uncles with pot-bellies who are ‘simple guy loves family looking 4 true luv’.
:/
If there are any Mallu guys reading this, then I’m sorry. I really am. But you gotta admit, mallu men are not the best-looking guys on earth. You’ll find one in a hundred. Alright, I admit, I’m not a Vidya Balan myself. I’m short, dusky, wear spectacles, have a large nose that would give even Ganesha ji competition, and as of now, my ‘physical structure’ is ‘average’ rather than ‘slim’. But that doesn’t mean I should get married to a guy who looks older than my dad no?! And yes yes, looks are not the most important thing, it’s the person that matters and blah blah. But hey, I have to spend the rest of my life with the guy. I need to be able to look at his face day in and day out, right? As shallow as this may make me seem, I’m not willing to spend the rest of my life with a guy who resembles an 80’s Mallu movie villain (I’m not exaggerating. My dad actually did send interest to someone who looked like that. And went ahead and got the horoscopes checked also, after which he’s telling me that it matches perfectly and that the ‘party’ is very interested. :/ I told him that while I may not be Miss Universe material, I don’t think I can get married to a guy who looks older than my dad.) I'm not searching for an Adonis either, but at least not someone who considers a moustache to be the ultimate symbol of manhood. I don’t like guys with moustache, unless it’s accompanied by a French beard or stubble. And the worst part is that Mallu men without moustache are hard to come by!
If it’s not the looks, it’s the name. I mean, seriously! What is it with us Malayalis and the fixation for bad names!! There was a slightly interesting profile that I was checking out. Looks ok-ok, job ok-ok, etc. Then I read the name. Shine. :/ Can you even imagine what my kids’ names would be like, with that as a surname? They would sound like the brand names of liquid bleach. Or like the name of a dry-cleaning store! Another guy had a name that was just one letter different from the camera-brand Nikon. I don’t judge him. I judge his parents. Why would they do that to their own flesh and blood?! And don’t even get me started on Mallus and their fixation for the sound ‘sh’ in names. They just love it. while most names are good, some of them are so imaginative, it’s ridiculous.
In my ‘Partner preference’, I’ve given one lamba-chauda list of requirements, not at all on the lines of ‘seeking groom from good family background’. There’s actually a long list of things, starting from ‘preferably a Nambiar, so that I don’t have to change my surname’ to ‘someone who loves Calvin and Hobbes’. I think most of them got scared away just reading that. :/ Because no one seems to be falling for me. No one good, anyways. :( The ones who do show some interest make me want to become a nun.
One dude (or whoever created his profile) replied to my dad’s message- “Dear father please give clear and polite partner preference and please remind this to your daughter and marriage is not at all a business deal”. It isn’t? Then why was he paying money to look for a partner on the internet? :/ Well, actually I'm not surprised he responded like that, because in my ‘About me’, I've written “My forte is humour and satire, so if you don’t get sarcasm, chances are you won’t like me at all”. Well, I was right about that, wasn’t I?!
Another guy who expressed in me claims to be a blogger, but also mentions that we can’t find his blog by typing his name. Seriously, dude? And his paragraphs were like loose motion- no full stop, comma, or punctuations of any sort.
Ok, so maybe proper grammar is hardly the thing you look for in a prospective life partner. There are a lot of other things that matter, like income, family background, personality, etc. But it matters to me! I tend to judge people based on their grammar and how well they can write. WHAT do I do about it?! Do you think I’ll die alone, surrounded by grammar books? :(
And a couple of them had the nerve to send me friend request on FB. Did they REALLY think I would accept their request? Seriously?! Damn you, FB!
I think my dad truly believes that the world will indeed come to an end in December 2012. I can’t see any other reason why he would be in a hurry to get me married off to one of those. I would rather die single than Mrs. Thick Moustache.
Damn. It does look like I’ll die all alone in a room surrounded by grammar books, no? :/
Acha made me register on some matrimonial website, with the most decent-looking pic I could find, and one long description about me and about the kind of partner I’m looking for.
I did it just to get Acha off my back, because I'm in no way ready to get married right now. I created the profile and then left it to him to handle it.
Wrong call.
Because what do I see now when I open the account? My dad has sent ‘interest’ to countless moustached Mallu uncles with pot-bellies who are ‘simple guy loves family looking 4 true luv’.
:/
If there are any Mallu guys reading this, then I’m sorry. I really am. But you gotta admit, mallu men are not the best-looking guys on earth. You’ll find one in a hundred. Alright, I admit, I’m not a Vidya Balan myself. I’m short, dusky, wear spectacles, have a large nose that would give even Ganesha ji competition, and as of now, my ‘physical structure’ is ‘average’ rather than ‘slim’. But that doesn’t mean I should get married to a guy who looks older than my dad no?! And yes yes, looks are not the most important thing, it’s the person that matters and blah blah. But hey, I have to spend the rest of my life with the guy. I need to be able to look at his face day in and day out, right? As shallow as this may make me seem, I’m not willing to spend the rest of my life with a guy who resembles an 80’s Mallu movie villain (I’m not exaggerating. My dad actually did send interest to someone who looked like that. And went ahead and got the horoscopes checked also, after which he’s telling me that it matches perfectly and that the ‘party’ is very interested. :/ I told him that while I may not be Miss Universe material, I don’t think I can get married to a guy who looks older than my dad.) I'm not searching for an Adonis either, but at least not someone who considers a moustache to be the ultimate symbol of manhood. I don’t like guys with moustache, unless it’s accompanied by a French beard or stubble. And the worst part is that Mallu men without moustache are hard to come by!
If it’s not the looks, it’s the name. I mean, seriously! What is it with us Malayalis and the fixation for bad names!! There was a slightly interesting profile that I was checking out. Looks ok-ok, job ok-ok, etc. Then I read the name. Shine. :/ Can you even imagine what my kids’ names would be like, with that as a surname? They would sound like the brand names of liquid bleach. Or like the name of a dry-cleaning store! Another guy had a name that was just one letter different from the camera-brand Nikon. I don’t judge him. I judge his parents. Why would they do that to their own flesh and blood?! And don’t even get me started on Mallus and their fixation for the sound ‘sh’ in names. They just love it. while most names are good, some of them are so imaginative, it’s ridiculous.
In my ‘Partner preference’, I’ve given one lamba-chauda list of requirements, not at all on the lines of ‘seeking groom from good family background’. There’s actually a long list of things, starting from ‘preferably a Nambiar, so that I don’t have to change my surname’ to ‘someone who loves Calvin and Hobbes’. I think most of them got scared away just reading that. :/ Because no one seems to be falling for me. No one good, anyways. :( The ones who do show some interest make me want to become a nun.
One dude (or whoever created his profile) replied to my dad’s message- “Dear father please give clear and polite partner preference and please remind this to your daughter and marriage is not at all a business deal”. It isn’t? Then why was he paying money to look for a partner on the internet? :/ Well, actually I'm not surprised he responded like that, because in my ‘About me’, I've written “My forte is humour and satire, so if you don’t get sarcasm, chances are you won’t like me at all”. Well, I was right about that, wasn’t I?!
Another guy who expressed in me claims to be a blogger, but also mentions that we can’t find his blog by typing his name. Seriously, dude? And his paragraphs were like loose motion- no full stop, comma, or punctuations of any sort.
Ok, so maybe proper grammar is hardly the thing you look for in a prospective life partner. There are a lot of other things that matter, like income, family background, personality, etc. But it matters to me! I tend to judge people based on their grammar and how well they can write. WHAT do I do about it?! Do you think I’ll die alone, surrounded by grammar books? :(
And a couple of them had the nerve to send me friend request on FB. Did they REALLY think I would accept their request? Seriously?! Damn you, FB!
I think my dad truly believes that the world will indeed come to an end in December 2012. I can’t see any other reason why he would be in a hurry to get me married off to one of those. I would rather die single than Mrs. Thick Moustache.
Damn. It does look like I’ll die all alone in a room surrounded by grammar books, no? :/
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