I challenge you to get angry in style

Last night I was watching Casino Royale and reminiscing about the old Bond Sean Connery. Casino Royale is the only recent Bond movie I have seen. I haven't seen any of Brosnan's Bond flicks. Well, I am not here to enlighten you about my history of viewing Bond films but rather a completely unrelated subject which ticked me while watching Craig in action in Montenegro.

There is a scene where Bond seems to be losing money in the Casino and gets completely annoyed. He hurriedly goes to the bar and orders a drink. When the bartender asks him, "Shaken or Stirred?" Bond answers something like, "Whatever dammit" in a very angry and roguish tone. The most stylish and suave agent has lost his cool in a very unstylish manner. Well, that is what triggered this post. Can anyone manage to get angry and yet keep his/her style? While courting a prospective partner, one can be very stylish and wax eloquence but while getting angry, the elan is lost and the speech reveals the person. The same mouth that spouts words of love and verse in grace can curse with an equally strong passion.

One can be passionate about wearing make-up and of course can carry it well while eating, sleeping and even making love but when one gets angry, one just cannot take care whether the lipstick is swallowed while spitting out angry words and whether the hair-do is in place while literally boxing down the rival party.

Uncouth words, poisoned glances, banging the doors/utensils can never even be done in style. Come on, James Bond cannot do it, how can others even try doing so. Probably that's why anger is seen as a potent force that can destroy one's interior and exterior health.

Can you ever think of anyone who has gotten angry in style?

Image: Internet

Stories on a plate

Meal times are usually conversation times, if one is at home and everyone else is also at home. Slowly the first mouthful is swallowed and the stories begin.

You know what happened yesterday . . .

Ears perk up and the mouthfuls become slow and steady. Sometimes, I find it extremely difficult to concentrate on the food and on the equally delicious talk. I love both to bits. Then to add a flavour from times of yore, my mother adds her bits to the conversation that was started by my sister. She adds colour and antiquity to the interesting string of stories. Me, being the teacher starts a string of related student stories.

The conversation flows.

The food slowly but surely finds its place in our tongues. We savour the flavours of the food and the talk.

The plate goes empty. The stories run.

The juices and the remains of the food are slowly polished off clean. The act of polishing serves a double-fold purpose: It cleans the plate and it prolongs the act of eating.

After the plates, it's the turn of the fingers. In between hearing stories that leave us asking for more, the fingers are licked clean. And I don't know why the remains of the food sticking on the plates and the hands are the tastiest bits. The chatter continues non-stop.

And, in a moment of brief silence, the first person who has had enough tries to get up. NOOOO. PLEEEAAASSSE, we protest. Don't get up to wash your hands. If you wash your hands, the mood and the chain of conversation will break. 

My mother always remarks, "The drier the hands get, the juicier the conversation gets."

The person eventually gets up. Ah, we lose interest. The conversation breaks off. The bits of food on the hands and the plate are viewed with distaste. The magic evaporates. We return to life and that is clearing the dishes away and washing them.

(I guess the same happens even while eating with forks, knives and spoons. But somehow for me, eating with spoons does not create the same magic. I have to use my hands and in the end lick them clean. Wow!)

What happens in your meal times while at home with family?

Image 1: Internet

Where are the letters I wrote? Where are the letters that were written to me?

In a few weeks' time, I will have a new address. The feeling is mixed. How will my new address sound and will it have a nice ring to it? I hope you get the drift! Sometimes, addresses do have a nice ring, like say, Sugar Land, Texas or Palli Hill, Bandra or say, Poes Garden or even Lake Avenue. I could go on about sweet sounding addresses which sound nice and read nice. But however nice and sweet it may sound, it is sad that some addresses never receive letters promptly. Well, my letters are such and so are the letters written to me by dear friends. I have come to the conclusion that my address does not sound and read well because I have lost precious letters in transit. What happens to the lost letters, anyway?

Who benefits from my lost letters? Where are they? Are they struck in some old and rusty post-office or have they been dumped in some junkyard?

When I was about ten years old, there was a case in the newspaper which reported of a post-woman who bundled up all the letters and sunk them in the common water tank. Ah, what was wrong with her? How can she so mindlessly dump messages of love, success, failure, birth, death, wedding, crush and others into the water tank? When I think of my lost letters, I think of that post-woman. My beautiful purple ink would have been lost in water. Death of letters by water! I shudder to think of my letters meeting such a fate. That's about my letters. What about the letters that were posted to me? I am yet to receive five letters and they were written long ago, sometime in August or September. I took a conscious decision to avoid some friends on Facebook and communicate only through letters. Alas! I broke my self-imposed vow and inquired about the letters. The letters, they say, were posted long ago. Missing in Action/Transit?

Well, is someone savouring my letters? Are they reading it and throwing them away? I am not able to put my finger on any valid reason. Should I blame the inefficient postal system in India? As it is, the news is pretty stale when I receive the letter and yet I relish the joy of the letter but now that small joy has been snatched away from me. Where are the letters I wrote? Where are the letters that were written to me?

I believe that I am one of those rare species from another era who still writes (W.R.I.T.E.S) letters but everything seems against me.

And inspite of all, I am still an optimist one . . . perhaps another rare trait, in these days of pessimism and whining. I wait for my letters. And, please don't write any letters to me until I send you my new address.

Will you write to me and shall I reply.

Image: Internet

When I was trolled! Please excuse me Tolkien!

To be honest, I knew about the existence of the word 'troll' only after reading The Lord of the Rings by     J. R. R. Tolkien. The other times I came across this word was in Facebook where there are humourous pictures from a group/individual called 'Troll.' Well, I was in for a surprise when I received a text message from a dear friend saying that I had been trolled. "What the heck?" was my response as I was only thinking of Tolkien's trolls. I was not some nasty and stupid troll. Chances that I may be one cannot be dismissed but from middle-earth, certainly not! And then I realised that I was not a troll but there was someone who had trolled me. Get the drift?!

Cave Troll 

So what does this word 'Troll' mean? When I googled this word, I was dumb-folded to find that our Wiki has a page devoted to the word! Alas! my limited and ancient vocabulary did not register this word. I read on with interest and discovered many amusing facts about the word which is touted as 'internet lingo.' I have been using the internet for quite some time now but have never read about the 'troll' word. But what the internet does not have is the word, 'trolled' and so I am wondering if I can add to the already existing usage of the word. The Urban Dictionary defines the word thus:

The art of deliberately, cleverly, and secretly pissing people off, usually via the internet, using dialogue. Trolling doe not mean just making rude remarks: Shouting swear words at someone doesn't count as trolling; it's just flaming, and isn't funny. Spam isn't trolling either; its pisses people off, but it's lame.

But what is interesting to me is whether I could connect the Urban Dictionary's definition of 'troll' to Tolkien's troll. Again referring to Wiki, Tolkien's troll is described thus:

Trolls are large humanoids of great strength and poor intellect.

Well, I definitely do see an obvious connection here ;) I will not go into details as you can gather them for yourselves.

You must be wondering as to what prompted this post. The title says it all, I was trolled and the one who trolled me was not a humanoid but a human who I believe, possesses great strength but poor intellect, in the norm of Tolkien's trolls but not from Middle Earth!

A new word is always useful, isn't it?


Image 1: Tolkien's Cave Troll - Internet
Image 2: Wiki Troll-face - Internet

Some interesting 'phone talk'

For a long time now, I have been steadily observing, rather listening to the words and phrases used by people while referring to missed calls and lost messages. I thought it would be fun to record some of them here and also request you to add to some of these hilarious usage of phrases.

Why didn't you lift the phone? (As if a phone call can be lifted! Hangover of the old telephones which were in use way back when land-line phones were the norm. They are still in use now but in limited households)

How many times I am calling, your phone doesn't pick calls (Has anyone heard of phones having an independent mind)

I saw missed call from you but I didn't call again. Why didn't you call? (Hello, if you see a missed call, you HAVE missed a call and so you have to call back. Duh!)

My tower is cut and I am not able to continue the conversation (Tower is cut?!?!? I think signal or reception is the word to be used)

My tower signal is going (Where is it going?)

Don't walk and talk, the tower will disappear (!!!!)

I am running behind tower to talk clearly (Well, do you have special running shoes?)

Why are you unreachable? Has your tower disappeared? (Missing tower complaint)

After the advent of mobile phones into our daily lives, new vocabulary relating to mobiles have appeared in our daily language. Being a person who is interested in language and its usage, I cannot but help being amused at some of the phrases that are used even by the most educated persons.

You are welcome to add to this list and also comment on them.

Image: Internet

Please let that thought linger . . .

While praying, meditating or trying to concentrate, it is essential that the mind should be freed of clutter in the form of stray thoughts. Better said than done! Often while meditating, there is this one thought that I find so very difficult to let go.

When he strummed the guitar and sang that song, my heart leaped and all that I could manage was a smile. I wished that he could go on and on but then he stopped, looked into my eye and asked me to hum along with him which I couldn't do . . .

The thought doesn't stop. I coerce and beg and try all possible techniques, the thought remains so and starts weaving delicious notes that seduces me over and over.

The song was 'Alberta Alberta' by Eric Clapton. He sang and sang on and here I was breathless and dreamy . . .

Ah, I need to focus on my meditation. Another technique is: Let the thought have its way. But then, will the thought ever stop? 

The song has some wonderful lines such as, "Aint had no loving/ Since you've been gone." Well, it was Eric Clapton's voice but your face and your guitar that you purchased with your own money and not your father's.

While praying, the heart and mind are supposed to be in a state of meditating over the words that are heard. I remember a scene from the film, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where Jim Carrey does not want to erase some of the happier moments he spent with Kate Winslet and wants to preserve at least one memory. He does not want to let go. Similarly, I struggle hard to let go of that one thought in the form of someone's voice or tone and I try to cling on or rather it clings on to me, threatening to sabotage my prayer and meditation. I plead with the thought to release me.

I might have exaggerated a bit but thoughts are like wild horses, which can sometimes be quite hard to tame and if you are someone like me whose memories often surface with just a tune/glance/smell, then it's harder. Inspite of all that, I like praying and meditating. 

Tell me about how thoughts play havoc with you when you try to concentrate.

Image: Internet