Oh, I'm sick again too.

I wonder, there must be something radically wrong for me to have 4 colds in the span of 45 days. Ridiculous I tell you. And here's why:


1. I never have fever - which means the infection isn't really that great.
2. It always starts with a god-awful sore throat, which I promptly dose with honey and lozenges, to no blooming avail.
3. The next 4 days are spent with the constant companionship of a towelette. (No concept of personal space.)
4. The only thing (including antibiotics) that seems to give me any relief is my oil diffuser. I put a bit of eucalyptus oil in the thing, and light a candle underneath. (This explanation is for the males that read my blog.) The oil thus becomes vapour. It's almost like an excuse to light aromatic candles in my room, recline luxuriously on a pile of pillows and sip nice hot things with my eyes closed.

It's like a vacation. But I am SICK, I assure you.

Attention please. Thank you.

I found the most amazing site for gorgeous blogger templates. That too for FREE. They are originally WordPress themes, modified for the Blogger platform. I downloaded three ages ago, one for each blog. I am so thrilled with them. So go get your own here.


After uploading the new themes, I realized that my widgets were deleted. I was very unhappy, but I figured the new look was totally worth it. So I spent half the night fixing up my blog widgets all over again. I still have to add links to Twitter, Flickr and Digg (which I barely use - even though I tell myself I will everyday). There were tabs just under the header initially, which I Photoshopped to read those legends, but the linking didn't work. So I used the tabs to display my heading. Cheesy I know, but I like the theme too much to eschew it entirely.

Also I was thrilled that I still can understand HTML. I never really learnt CSS, so I was pretty chuffed that programming still comes easily to me. (Not that I want to EVER take it up again. No sirree.)

Gave my spirits the necessary boost that they so desperately needed.

NaBloPoMo 09. Again.

I know I'm supposed to have posted every day. I know that 30 posts in 30 days is not the same. I know that excuses are useless. However, HOWEVER, I do have extenuating circumstances.


Another of puppies died yesterday. She was so sick leading up to yesterday that I was horribly blue. I didn't know whether praying for her recovery was fair, considering she would have had a miserable life with half her back gone.

I won't go into the gory details, but suffice it to say that she was a mess. Gangrene was eating away at the tiny body, and in a place that couldn't be amputated. She had maggots too. Enough said.

So I prayed that she wouldn't suffer. We all did. And thankfully she didn't. She was happy and chirpy till the end, and finally the little life petered out in her sleep. I cannot thank the powers that be enough. (For her sake of course; for my sake I wanted her back, good as new.)

Anyway, my days have been taken up by looking after her and working myself to the bone. So please make an exception for me?

Happiness is a Choice

This morning one of the puppies died in my arms.


She was badly ill, with lesions on her legs that refused to heal. A beautiful sand-coloured pup with the darlingest white paws.

I cradled the small body in the crook of my neck and the tears just wouldn't stop. My aunt and mother were similarly afflicted, and three grown women cried together over a small stray puppy.

After we buried her in the yard and made a cairn of stones over her grave, we got to cleaning the mud off ourselves and the implements.

I spent the rest of the day coming to terms with the death of a baby. She was so small and so beautiful and it seemed such a waste for her to die like that. Then it hit me: I spend so much of my time reading about esoteric principles and spiritual philosophy. I have devoured books about life after death and the soul - it was time for some application.

Ironically, I had told Akshay only the night before - happiness is a choice. You decide whether you want to wallow in unhappiness or power through and be joyful.

I had to practice what I preached. It was hard.

Family reloaded

After dealing with my mother's relatives, I had the dubious pleasure of interacting with some of my father's side of the family. While they have oodles more class and definitely more education, they were not the kind of warm fuzzy people that one expects in family. Granted they've been out of touch for a long while but there was a certain chill that I personally didn't expect.


They were here in Goa for the weekend, and we had dinner together both days. It was really lovely, as the conversations were lively and entertaining whilst the food was excellent both times. We were planning to visit the Arpora night market too, but dinner took too long and in the end we called it a night right after.

I met a cousin I didn't know I had, and he was really nice. I hoped to make a new friend, because I truly feel starved of the companionship I crave from my peer group. Is it too much to expect mature, talented and interesting individuals in the age bracket of 25 and above? Possibly.

But I can still hope. Here's to hoping, against hope. (That's too make 'hopes' in one sentence.)

Yes, the terrible puns will never end.

Dregs of human society. My relatives.

Family plays such a big role in a person's life. At least, that's what my mother has dinned into my skull from when I was very little. I was introduced to miscellaneous uncles and aunts, second cousins and sometimes third. All with the purpose of acquainting me with 'family'.


This time around in Bangalore, I encountered all whom I like to think of my mother's relatives. I eschew all relationship with them, because very frankly they are a true embarrassment. Not because they are not city slickers nor because they may not be wealthy, but more that they are just such awful human beings. Petty jealousies and grudges that last generations. Brother scheming against brother, and the envy and hate that pours out from everyone's eyes. Everything is measured with the yardstick of money and possessions. Never mind that there are other more important considerations, like love and compassion, gentleness and kindness.

In short, I detest my mother's relatives. They are disgusting bottom feeders, whom I disdain to notice. My 'snobbishness' stands me in good stead, because when someone repels me with their petty behaviour, I can use it as a shield to keep them away from me.

I tried being nice to them, but I was inspected from head to toe, grilled to the point where I felt I was on trial, and basically treated as though I needed to be put in my place. For what? Smiling at them and asking how they have been? Cracking jokes at my own expense, and complimenting their children?

I have frankly lost all faith in humanity. I will only believe in good human beings once I see people transcending their greed and avarice, becoming less selfish and less unbearable.

Till then I will just hold my puppies to myself and say, "Thanks, but no thanks".

My Photon Pipe-dream

Anyone who has ever used Tata Indicom's Plug to Surf Internet device will probably sympathize greatly with my desperate desire to get rid of it. Unfortunately, I am thoroughly handicapped, because my net connection frequently conks out and I am reduced to using the beggarly device to get information I may require from the web.


Tata Photon + was then announced, and I did cartwheels of pure happiness, as I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

However, it turns out that the light at the end of the tunnel was a mirror reflecting the light from my lamp as I looked for the end of the tunnel.

(Did that make any sense? No? Good.)

After months of wondering when Photon + was going to grace Goan shores, my father finally surprised me by telling me about the Tata salesperson who visited his office. Apparently, my father is a rather big shot because of the company and position he holds, so people flock to his office.

(Hell, that works for me. Never been waited upon like that in all my life.)

Feels. so. good.

Where was I?

Ah yes, so he gets all the paperwork and verification done without input for me whatsoever. A pleasant change from the kind of running around I usually have to do. And then I was told the Photon + would be home delivered the next day.

Wow, I thought.

So when the guy actually did call up today, I was impressed beyond belief. He showed up and proceeded to install the device on my laptop.

Nothing. Nada. Zip.

He tried to double-click, single-click, reboot, shut down and restart, stare balefully, and every other imaginably useless course of action one could take when trying to install new hardware. He hadn't a clue what was wrong with it.

After a lengthy discussion, during which he was unpardonably rude to my mother, I finally deduced that the setup for a 64-bit machine (like mine) was not working. So he went away. And I was left with my Tata Indicom and a broken heart. (not really.)

All my mother was trying to say was that the reception was bad in our colony because the signals from the network towers was poor in this area. She gave him the analogy of BSNL which works in every nook and corner of the house. He responded by saying that BSNL and Tata were two different companies, and that no one listened to him and his colleagues because they were outsourced employees.

I am utterly beaten by the abysmal work ethic in Goa and overall in India. Beaten and subdued. I've lost my will to battle with these people.

Puppies!!

One of my adoptees has littered. A while ago, but she brought her puppies over only last Sunday. An awesome welcome home present if ever there was one.


My days have been filled with 7 little fuzzy barrels that are cutest things ever. There are three boys: Currant (a pure black one with brown paws), Champagne (carbon copy of his mother) and Chiclet (the runt). There are four girls: Caramel (sandy one with white paws), Coco and Cashew (twins that are pure brown) and Chocolate (a multicoloured brown one).

Unfortunately someone walked off with Currant and Champagne, the two best looking pups. I was really sad but I am just hoping they will be loved and looked after.

However on the other hand, I have five darling toddling little pups to look after. I'm happy.

NaBloPoMo 09

I don't know whether posting about the NaBloPoMo is cheating, but anyway..


So I've been posting my blog posts the morning after I write them. There is only one reason for this, and that reason is that I have written most of them half asleep.

So basically I'm doing everyone a huge favour. So no comments about not sticking to the schedule. I have loads on my plate, people.

Weird Foreigner

One thing I hate about myself is that I seem to be a magnet for weirdos. I just wish that once, just once, a normal, reasonably good-looking bloke struck up a conversation with me - instead of the raving lunatics, the oddballs and the ones that seem to think girls were created to be hit on.


However, this particular episode was funny.

I was roaming the halls at the National Museum, having managed to stretch my alloted hour to two and a half already. It is hard for me to tear myself away from such grand beauty. There were pillars carved with tales from the Jakata Tales; scenes from the life of Buddha carved into solid stone; metal statues from the Gupta period. I wandered the halls lost in a daydream where I wondered what passed through the minds of the artisans, designers, monarchs and peasants that looked upon these awesome pieces of art. I always feel rather funny when surrounded by ancient objects; I feel excitement pulsing, and a sense of mystical wonder envelops my mind like a cocoon.

Of course the feeling didn't last long. Because that's when the Iranian guy came along.

He was so obviously a foreign import, I didn't pay him much attention. I am not one those Indians that find foreigners unbelievably attractive; which means I don't drool or stand staring with my mouth agape.

Honestly, I didn't really notice him. That is until he accosted me. I turned politely, although there was a definite chill in my manner. (Remember what I said about guys I didn't know? Just because he was foreign, doesn't mean he's exempt.)

However he turned out to be extraordinarily polite. So I was forced to be polite as well. He trailed me in my determined (now slightly frantic) trek through the museum halls, assailing my unwilling ears with non-stop chatter.

Yeah, I may not be the friendliest person - I was in a museum! Leave me alone.

But he didn't. We went from exhibit to exhibit, swapping life stories and travel experiences. He waxed eloquent about Istanbul and how beautiful it was. I muttered something about always wanting to go there. He reacted with transports of delight. I rolled my eyes when he wasn't looking.

We were in the Gupta Art section of the museum, with great stone cravings of Hindu deities. I honestly just wanted to imbibe the gorgeous beauty in silence. He of course was tickled with depictions of our mythical tales.

I may have frozen solid at that point. I can be very snooty when I want to be; I informed him, icily, that those were scenes from our revered religious texts. It was inappropriate behaviour on his part after all, and I wonder how many Arabs would have stood for me making fun of their prophet's life. Zero. So back off buddy.

To do him justice, he ate the humble pie pretty readily. He was starting to make suggestions about exchanging contact details, so I beat a hasty retreat. I will be able to go to Delhi again, but I cannot foresee myself dealing with a leech-like foreigner permanently.

No thanks.