The Admission Tamasha

We’ve all been through it.

But nothing prepared me for it. At the appointed hour everything seemed to happen at the same time. The site crashed, our phones kept ringing with insistent relatives and the girl whose results were awaited fainted. With the temperature somewhere in the high 40s everything seemed doubly intense. There was nothing moderate about this situation.

What am I talking about, you ask? I’m talking about the day the twelfth board results came.

This year was especially crazy, what with the delay and the drama over ‘moderation’.

Well, maybe moderation might not be all that bad!

On the other hand…..

The fainting girl’s results turned out alright but the real challenge was yet to come. With the cut-offs sky high, getting into the desired college became very tough.

At least kids these days can be sure that they are choosing the right course having been (ably?) assisted by career counsellors.

This compared to our days when subject choice decisions were not the most um…scientific.

And yet, we didn’t turn out so badly.

I took up commerce because my siblings had chosen the said subject as also my dad and his dad. And look what I am busy doing these days- cartooning!

Are you as sober as a judge?

As my Rapid Metro pulled in to IndusInd Bank Cyber City Station, I couldn’t help but notice that the place usually buzzing with people looking for a liquid lunch now looked low-spirited. No prizes for guessing why.
But what I really want to know is this:  how are these restaurants and pubs surviving?  Instead of listening to the grapevine, I  decided to do my own research. I would roll out the barrel for myself by trying out a cocktail of restaurants.

I must report that some crafty owners had found creative solutions to the problem. Read on….

I casually walked into the first restaurant that seemed relatively empty (read: all of them) and seated myself next to a white Russian. On ordering the poison of my choice I was surprised to actually get it. But wait. Where was the drink?

The iCloud Solution.

The D(r)unkirk Spirit solution

A shot of tot solution

 

As I was waiting for my bill, I heard from a very reliable source that a more permanent solution was in the pipeline that would protect the  market.

Bar five’O one Solution

The moral of the story is that there is no use w(h)ining about what’s happening. Let your mind not ferment. It will only brew trouble for you. The motto is to g(r)in and beer it. Chances are that the cloud will lift , nothing will be barred and you can be free-spirited again.

Love Thy Neighbour: Part I

 

Nothing like a hot cup of filter coffee to wake you up from your slumber. If you don’t have access to filter coffee, however, an obnoxious and quarrelsome neighbour would also do the trick.

One morning the doorbell rang. Expecting my maid I was surprised to see my neighbour Anu standing looking murderous.

“Here, this is your leaf”, she said thrusting a dehydrated Amaltas leaf into my hand.

The innocent subject of her anger was my Amaltas tree which blooms most beautifully in the month of May. In preparation for this riot of gamboge however, the tree sheds copiously and the front yard is covered with dry leaves. To Anu’s consternation, it isn’t just my front yard.

So what? All trees shed, you say. Anu disagrees. She thinks only my tree sheds and that I villainously egg it on to shed on her side of the wall.

“You have to get rid of your tree or else YOU will clean my porch.” she insisted.

After a lot of brainstorming, I finally tied a fish net across the length of our Wagah border which redirects all the errant leaves back onto my side.

And I had thought living in a house was trouble free. My previous neighbour in my apartment drove me out. She loved plants so much that she filled the staircase with planters all the way. Not small ones, mind you. Bushy palms, poky mothers-in-law tongues (no kidding, that’s a plant alright), thorny Eophorbias……And she kept a count of her plants. I know, because I once tried to systematically eliminate one plant a week and she caught me.

Desperate situations demand desperate measures.

Oh yes, and the other problem in flats is the perennial noisy neighbour watching her loud T.V.

The salesperson was all sympathy but no discount.

And of course, when you escape from your neighbours at home and go watch a movie at the theatre,  you find other annoying neighbours there.

 

 

Is it possible to love one’s neighbour? For my part, I’ve never come across one I’ve liked.

 

A bit of a dog’s dinner.

 

Statutory warning: This post has been completely written by me without the help of my editor who is in the middle of her twelfth board exams. Any grammatical errors or typos found are a figment of the reader’s imagination.

So much has been written and said about demonetisation but has someone reported what a dog feels about the matter? What does a dog feel about the restriction in withdrawals, cash deposits, sudden inflation of Jan Dhan…?

Let’s find out.

They have restrictions all the time……so, what’s the big deal?

If only they had BDMs………….bones dispensing machines

They have bone hideouts…..their very own Jan Dhan.

Why do we complain so much about standing in queues?

Demonetisation might be a bone of contention, but it’s not that bad.

Having a paw-sitive outlook on the matter certainly helps!

 

 

Smog in the city.

My phone rang for the 10th time. This time it was a call from Chennai. The mater.

” Why do you want to breath that noxious air? Pack up and come to Madras. You can enjoy the music season too.” she said sounding like a Tamil Nadu tourism ad. I distracted her by changing the topic to politics. Bringing up her favorite politician always does the trick, I’ve found. Successfully wrapping the call up , I switched on the TV only to see horrific stories of the air quality in Delhi. Smog is undoubtedly a very serious problem but there is always a silver lining.

Nothing can dampen the spirit of the group selfie.

For office goers and school children alike, unexpected holidays are welcome.

When Pappu resumed school, he provoked the ire of Mrs. D’Souza.

Sorry, Mrs. D’Souza but for Pappu, Particulate Matters is a cause for concern.

Meanwhile , Varun is under a cloud of suspicion. The smart boy tries to wriggle out of trouble. But then experience trumps wit.

When the smog lifted, some of us were weighed down by the weight of our notes. Ever heard of a donor chasing a beggar?

The object of society’s undying devotion

As always, please share your comments and stories.

The Art Of Gifting.

It was only when I was invited to one of my friend’s highly sought-after parties that I realised how difficult it is to buy gifts.

Yes. I actually landed up at this friend’s party with fruits as my gift. I did that twice in a row before she promptly dropped me from her guest list. I just don’t see what’s wrong with that though? Isn’t wine made of fruit?!

And then there was the time that I bought a gift for my daughter.

What’s wrong in two people having similar tastes? It’s better than owning six of the same, I say.

 

To avoid this problem, smart women drop *subtle* hints.

I am an advocate of recycling!

The said clock had been gifted to me by the Iyers. I guess, what goes around comes around.

And then, there are these unfortunate souls……

I’m sure she feels exactly like a batsman getting out on 99. So, let’s celebrate every day of our lives and those of our near and dear ones.

Despite all my gaffes, I do enjoy giving and receiving gifts. The entire process from gauging the person’s likes and dislikes, going out to buy the actual gift and then breathlessly anticipating the receiver’s reaction is all fun.

I’ll never stop gifting! And hopefully receiving!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What gets your goat?

“Who used up all my Colgate?” asked my husband.

“I took it. Why, was it the last tube?” I replied, sensing trouble.

“I thought your preferred toothpaste was Pepsodent?” he countered.

By now, we had an audience in the form of my daughter. For a change, I was in trouble with Daddy and she was loving it.

“Yes…well, mine got over so I took yours. Here….you can take it back.” I said in a wounded voice. Voice modulation is something I excel at, being a singer and all.

“WHY CAN’T YOU BE BETTER ORGANISED? THIS REALLY GETS MY GOAT!!”, he screamed and stormed out.

“So, mom, silver jubilee this year huh?” my daughter asked, rubbing it in.

This was an instance of what gets my husband’s goat. Here’s a list of some that get mine!

Top of the list has got to be when I’m quizzed about the route I plan to take to reach a particular destination and then promptly given ‘better’ suggestions taking into account weather conditions, tailwind, rotational velocity of Mercury etc. My husband seems to think he’s a walking-talking Google map. Its frustrating.

 

Backseat driving? Who ? Me? What? No way.

Next on my list is when people cannot stay on one T.V channel for more than 20 seconds.

 

Some people have to be in (remote) control all the time and everywhere.

 

Selfie craze…

 

Finally, all those who have travelled by Metro know what I mean…

 

That’s a list of my pet peeves. What gets your goat?! 

 

Memoirs of a traveller.

I have a theory. A theory that this world is divided into two groups. One that loves travelling and the other that hates to travel. Actually, the one that hates travel might not be classified as a group at all because it consists of just me. This is not, of course, to say that I don’t travel at all. But really, what is so great about holidays? I think they’re over rated and here’s why.

My girlfriends tell me that shopping is one compelling reason to travel. But what about the inflated credit card bills? The disapproving looks from hubby and the envious ones from daughter? Not to mention the post purchase dissonance.

 

Some sightsee maniacally, as if their lives depended on it. But its not so easy to sightsee when the hubby and kids get grumpy.

 

And when the husband cooperates, you still have to deal with the idealogical differences.

Oh, these map obsessed men!

 

It’s no surprise then, that most holidays end up being stressful.

 

Still, a holiday is a holiday you think, and come back home reasonably happy but there’s more trouble awaiting you.

I rest my case.

The Spirit of Summer

I’m in a mall, doing a survey armed with A4 sheets, a trimax pen and one question- looking for unsuspecting subjects to participate in my project on what summer means to them.

A man in his twenties emerges out of Croma. Specimen No.1.

Me: What comes to your mind when I say summer?

Specimen 1: Umm heat, dust, water shortage…..RAINDANCE…….(trails off).

 

Maybe the water saved from the banned IPL matches could be used to organise a raindance for the irked cricketers.

My next few specimens were cackling women, just about to enter a jewellery shop when I assaulted them with my question.

Me: What does summer mean to you ladies?

Specimen 2: Water shortage…..ACUTE water shortage. I tell you, its safer to own diamonds than to own gallons of water in water tanks.

Specimen 3: Summer means mangoes, watermelon, lichees……yum!

Yup, but at what cost?

Meanwhile, I spotted Pappu with his brother Varun.

Me: What do you think of summer vacations?

Pappu: I miss school.

Me: (Shocked) Weird child!

And then he told me about how he recently stunned Patel sir, his Maths teacher.

 

Not one to be outdone, Varun recounted his encounter with his professor on the important issue of prohibition.

 

 

I guess, water train takes on a new meaning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a dog’s life !

                                                         

This post was an absolute pain to produce.  After brainstorming for hours (all to no avail, of course) I decided that it was turning out to be a shaggy dog story: a  tedious story which ends pointlessly. I was absolutely out of ideas and it seemed like I was barking up the wrong tree.

Then, however, my daughter’s constant dog talk got me thinking about our favourite four-legged friends and this post was born.

As they say, every dog has his day, and so here I am with some cartoons centered around…dogs, of course!

Why do people keep dogs as pets? I have a great many theories.

It provides an amazing excuse to little ones, which might not always bail them out of trouble but is guaranteed to get a few laughs.

They’re terrier-fic running buddies!

They keep it real with the man of the house who thinks he is the underdog!

and for entertainment, (Chennai) dogs can sing a raga or two….

Do you have any interesting dog stories to share?