Cooking for Chumps

A few days ago, a friend of mine showed me a chicken recipe so laughably easy, it was absolutely mind blowing. Now, as much as I love her as a friend, she is a bit culinarily (that’s not a word. Yes, I know. Yes, I just made up a word. I’m very proud) challenged. And yet, she pulled off the dish with élan. That’s because the entire process is riddled with shortcuts. Here’s how it goes.

        You take some pieces of chicken in a bowl. And to it, you add dashes of whichever sauce you prefer. My friend added plain ketchup, red chili sauce, green chili sauce and dark soy sauce. Add in some crushed garlic and just a pinch of salt. Marinate for minimum one hour. Then add a few drops of oil in a nonstick wok. Add the marinated chicken pieces with less than half a glass of water. Cook till its done. Prep time- less than 5 minutes. Cook time- anywhere between 10 to 30 minutes depending on the size of the pieces and the presence of bones.

        That’s all. When I tried to recreate her dish, I took more of an oriental route. I added some sesame oil and oyster sauce. Just as brilliant. Just as delicious. Just as simple.

Why has this dish sent me into such a tizzy you ask? The dish goes well with rice. It goes well with bread (either fresh off the loaf or toasted). It goes well with chapattis and phulkas. Make it into pizza toppings! Turn it into sandwich or paratha fillings! Ladies and gentlemen, this is the dish which answers so many prayers in one go.

Look at the possibilities! The only constant ingredient in the marinade needs to be ketchup. Everything else is variable. Want an Indian twist to it? Add some garam masala, some curd and some turmeric. Continental food is your go-to? Add plentiful crushed garlic and some herbs like oregano, thyme and rosemary. I’ve already described the Oriental options.

Besides, you can forgo the water in the dish and serve it dry as an appetizer. You can add extra water and turn it into a curry. You can even substitute the protein element with some other alternative like cottage cheese, soy nuggets, sea food or vegetables! (in fact, I considered naming this article “Chicken for Chumps” when I realized that even the chicken element is a variable).

Mind not boggled yet? Imagine how many ways this dish can be your salvation. You can have it when you come back home after a grueling day and do not have the energy or inclination to make a complicated meal. You can rustle it up when you get news of unexpected (or uninvited) guests. You could be a harried mother of six kids or a clueless BPO employee crashing with three more clueless roomies whose diet is primarily made up of Maggi noodles. It doesn’t matter if you’re a kitchen noob or a seasoned chef. You could be in Kashmir or you could be in Kanyakumari.

Let me sign off now while you try to wrap your head around this amazing dish. You’re welcome ;)

~I

Things I Learnt (Still Learning) During Engineering

1.       Whoever said Computer Engineering is easy… Bitch Please!

2.       Engineering screws everybody. No partiality

3.       Assignments, though designed for individual evaluation, are a team effort. One writes, the whole class copies (taking Ctrl-C very seriously… Computer Engineers, you see!)

4.       Practical sessions are our way of connecting to the outside world. INTERNET!

5.       Practicals are spent in guessing the admin password, gateway password and looking out for hot seniors.

6.       After the practical session:

Geeks: Arrey mera who program run hi nahi hua yaar!

Normal people: Did you check that video of making a bow out of paper? Interesting.

7.       Attending lectures for attendance, not knowledge. Because knowledge can be gained during preparatory leave (PL). But attendance ek hi baar milti hai sahib!

8.       Don’t act smart… Just, DON’T!

9.       Scenes outside an exam hall

Before the exam: What IS this shit?

After the exam: What WAS that shit?

10.   On normal college days: Movie chalo, lecture chalo, canteen chalo, etc.

On result day: Jai Mata Di, Aal izz well, Lord help me; I’m a good child, hey bhagwan!

11.   Engineering makes you a hardworking individual- One night before an exam!

12.   Jugaad is the keyword.

13.   Finally, engineering is fun; till it screws you.

~ Vivacious V

Dealing with Distance

            Before I even begin, let me just put this disclaimer out there- I don’t have any certified degree that gives me the right to dispense advice for anything. I’m just an average Jane; scrambling to make my attendance quota in college, worrying about passing my exams and obsessing over every new pimple that erupts on my face, take up most of my day, just like 99.99% of you people out there.

But all I know is, I’ve been in a relationship with the same boy since what feels like forever, he’s a cadet in the Merchant Navy, and between the couple of times he’s been away at sea, I’ve accumulated a total of 18 months of being in a long distance relationship. Plus, the world (read- my Facebook newsfeed) is just filled to bursting with people who break off relationships when things start to get serious and people dissing long distance. There seems to be this unanimous opinion in people’s minds that maintaining long distance is a Herculean task which isn’t worth the effort that goes into making it work. Others feel that long distance is synonymous with cheating on your partner. Well, I beg to disagree. I mean, whatever happened to ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’?

Being in a relationship, any kind of relationship, not just long distance, is hard. I mean, why would you choose to go steady with a person until and unless you were 300% sure that person was worth the time, effort and emotional investment? Even if you put in a variable like distance into the equation, your opinion shouldn’t waver. If you ARE indeed 300% sure that the person is worth the time, effort and emotional investment, there’s absolutely no need to think any further. Your feelings shouldn’t be affected by whether your better half is standing 3 inches away from you or 30,000 miles away.

Our (that is, Gen Y’s) greatest advantage is that we live in the digital age. If you think LDR is impossible today, what would people do earlier when they’re sweethearts left town to go to college in a city far away or got a job somewhere at the other end of the world? They had to rely on good ole snail mail to hear from each other. The worry and frustration must have been at least twofold greater. Today, however, all it takes is a matter of seconds to get in touch with someone. There are so many communication platforms. Facebook Messenger, Whatsapp, Telegram, Line, Hike, Skype, WeChat, Yahoo Messenger, GTalk, Hangouts… C’mon! Do I even need to continue? Even the remotest of areas have some traces of cellular network. If you’re very lucky, there’s even 3G sometimes! Any workplace today is hooked up with snazzy super fast WiFi. I know we’re all looked upon as this anti-social generation, hooked on to our mobile screens, unaware of things beyond our Twitter or Facebook newsfeed, but then again, in today’s times, the internet is our guardian angel, the savior of our sanity when it comes to long distance.

The first step to dealing with long distance is, ironically, the same as the first step in shaking off an addiction. You need to accept the reality. Keep reminding yourself that this is real, you are in a long distance relationship, and this will be your foreseeable future for quite a while to come. This way, when you can feel yourself go down that road of insecurity and self-doubt, you can remind yourself that you volunteered to do it, of your own will and you do have what it takes to see yourself through it.

I don’t understand why people believe that long distance murders their social life. Excuse me, but did you sign some sort of agreement that you will morosely stare at your phone 24x7 waiting for some sign from your partner that (s)he is still alive? What happiness can be got from walking around all day in your PJs like a zombie, eyes bloodshot from crying, watching chick flicks all the time and dreaming up perfect happily-ever-afters in your head? NONE. Just a heads-up, the relationship hasn’t ended. So get your act together and stop acting like it has. Long distance is the perfect reason for you to dive back into life with a vengeance.Meet some old friends. Make some new ones. Take up an extracurricular activity. Hone some skills. Get a job. Start a new hobby. The possibilities are infinite. You can keep yourself distracted and you never know just how much that flambé class may enrich your life!

At the same time, don’t get too swept away in this miracle we all call life. Now since my boyfriend is never in the same time zone as me, I don’t have a fixed schedule of when he’s free to communicate, but through trial and error I’ve realized that he’s usually free from late afternoon to late evening, in my time. For people residing in the same time zone, fix up a schedule when you both will be able to sit down and talk at length and catch up with what’s happening in the other’s life. And when you do that, make sure no other task comes in the way. Show your partner that they have your undivided attention. Regular communication is essential. And when some unavoidable circumstances come up and either you or your partner cannot find the time to touch base on some particular day, don’t grudge them for it. I’m pretty sure no one would be so cruel and petty on purpose. When you are in LDR, a fleeting message like ‘Have a good day hon’ or just a kissing emoji means a lot more than it looks like. It means that someone is still thinking of you. Someone cares enough for you to make time out for you while they are swamped in work, bone tired or both.

Be more considerate. Be more allowing. Trust your partner. Otherwise the relationship is ear marked for doom. Girls, don’t be divas and play hard-to-get. Don’t play at all. LDR is not an ideal situation for games. Be liberal when it comes to interpreting messages. For example;

Me- Hi hon! Where are you?

Him- Atlantic Ocean

(The next day)

Me- Hi sweetie! Where have you reached now?

Him- Do you think the Atlantic is our Mula-Mutha kya? To be crossed in one day. I’m still in the Atlantic.

            Now there are two ways of interpreting this message. I could choose to be affronted and pick a fight with my boyfriend for the silliest of reasons. Or I could choose to laugh at the joke he made and then life goes on as normal. In long distance, people are pressed for time anyway. Why would you want to spend the already limited time that you have on arguments? Sometimes, arguments aren’t resolved in a day. The bitter sentiments spill over and ruin the conversation for days to come after that. So, put your ego aside and look at the sunnier side of things. Virtual messaging platforms cannot convey sarcasm very well. So you cannot be insinuating and hinting at things all the time. Be direct and upfront. Share lighthearted things with your partner. Tell him/ her about new movies in town, new songs doing the party circuit, all the gossip about who hooked up with whom. Ask them about their day. Be eager and interested.

Now, I know that the key to a happy relationship is utter honesty, but there is one exception clause in the case of an LDR. Maybe your partner doesn’t need to know that today you cut yourself while shaving. Or that you had an argument with your parents. Or that you’ve had a face-off with your BFF. Or that someone stole your lunch. I mean, not only are these things really REALLY trivial, it’sabsolutely no use bothering your partner with all this info. Can they magically kiss your boo boo and make it alright? Do you think they can spare the time to analyze your life and why no one understands you? Why would you even make them worried for you for such small issues? Serious things like a bad illness or an accident or an especially vivious exam paper may merit some discussion; but then again, try to be strong for your partner. Don’t whine, don’t be a bitch (excuse my French) and don’t dwell on your issues like you normally would.

Don’t expect to be waited on hand-and-foot in the relationship. Learn to compromise. Don’t go leaping to conclusions. Don’t add 2 and 2 to make 22. Take some initiative sometime. Be the person who makes larger-than-life gestures. Surprise your partner with a sudden visit. Ask a friend to deliver a Valentine’s day present on your behalf. Make a video montage or a picture collage for special occasions. Send them care packages. Just because you may be physically distant, it shouldn’t stop you or your other half from feeling the love.

This may seem like a disagreeable point, but avoid discussing the nitty-gritties of your relationship with people in your friends’ circle who haven’t experienced what you have. They may be sympathetic but they wont be able to empathize with you. If they enquire, politely tell them that you’re fine and steer the conversation to a different topic. You can open up to people who are in the same situation, compare notes as to what makes other long distance couples tick and share your doubts and insecurities.

Last, but definitely not the least, when you and your better half have the luxury of physical proximity, make every moment count. Spend time together. Click a ton of pictures. Party like no tomorrow. Take trips together. Focus on making new memories instead of dreading the time they might leave again. And never, EVER, take your relationship or your partner for granted.

~ I

all things nice ! :)

ohhhkk then.. its been long since I have taken to the blog.. been busy with all my entrances and exams and what not!
so... I was at this college interview and they asked me a simple question as to "how I felt " after blogging about anything.... and... I was blank I hadn't actually thought about it until then... blogging actually takes a lot of load off my mind.. I feel relaxed and free.. with this sudden energy !

today I would love to talk about the THREE basic necessities that we women ;) ( yes women !) normally need!!
1) FOOD
2)CLOTHES
3)MAKE UP!! hehaww

when I talk about make up and clothes it doesn't necessarily mean that iam talking about this huge collection of expensive dresses or make up and eye shadows etc... I mean all those small little pretty things that make us happy.. it could be anything.. a gothic styled black nail paints..or funky greens.. or the lovely fuchsia!

I have taken to this sudden feeling need urge whatever to pamper myself.. by splurging or buying stuff that makes me happy and makes me feel different unique.. all our lives we are taught to study earn .... and then we teach our kids to study earn..
where's the fun at!!!
whom are we earning for!

don't eat this.. don't eat that.. take care of your body blah blah... I feel so sorry when someone tells me that they are following a particular diet!
I just feel that food is so important in life! we meet up with friends or celebrate at eating joints or hotels or bars!!
no one celebrates with plates of SALADS!!
of course you should not overeat and binge that's a different thing!

I feel soo many girls(including me) always underestimate ourselves.. we always question ourselves.. are we good enough.. are we pretty enough... are we smart enough...\but the answer is within you.. you can determine what makes you happy!
stop waiting for a miracle! you are your miracle!!




PS : this post is a mess! but I have a problem of organising my thoughts and writing.. so.. anyway enjoy !! :D

nAUghTy N

Types of Question Papers that Teachers Set

            It’s that time of the year again. When students fear for their life (and careers!). The midnight oil is steadily burnt; firstly for ghastly journal/ assignment submission and then in the vain attempt to memorize an entire semester’s worth of syllabus in one night. That’s right ladies and gentlemen. Exam season is upon us.

            I always feel like exams bring out the worst in us. We snarl at close friends, we hoard notes like greedy misers, we starve ourselves (I’ll have dinner soon, I swear! Just let me finish one more paragraph), sleep is abandoned in favor of “by-hearting” textbooks heavy enough to belong to the workout repertoire of The Great Khali… shall I go on? (On a side note, this phrase amuses me. By-hearting. It’s such a typically Indian-English word. Does Samosapedia have an entry for by-hearting yet?)

            But the bottom line is, no matter how we study, for how long we study, what we study, how many lifetimes’ worth of souls we’ve sold to the devil, everything boils down to that nefarious piece of paper known as the question paper. Doesn’t matter what proportion of mannat we’ve promised God. Our fate is written on the black and white of the paper which is the start and end of any exam.

            Wait. Let me correct myself. Everyone who has passed the state board exams is aware of the Law of Transitivity in Math aren’t they? So, if I apply the law of Transitivity here, our fate is not in the hands of the question paper; its in the hands of the teachers who have set the question paper. TEACHERS. Those beings who stand at the front of a class and babble? They change by the hour? We’re incredibly glad to see them go? We have to kiss their asses for the last half mark they’re willing to give us? Sound familiar? Yes, those people. Those are the people who determine if we can throw a party for scraping a 50% pass or if we should write a letter to Cadbury, asking to star in the next ‘Pappu pass ho gaya’ commercial (heck, if you can’t pass in real life, why not give reel a shot?)

            So! Since it is exam season, and I would rather do anything else than study, I decided to draw up a list of the top 5 types of question papers we’ve weathered. Everyone’s experienced a few of the ones given below-

1.       The False Positive- Well, if I’m being brutally honest, this is actually the fault of the student rather than the teacher. How many times have we been under the impression that we’ve had an utterly FABULOUS paper, only to have the illusion shatter when we discuss it with someone else? Too many times to count, for me at least. Blame it on carelessness, blame it on less amount of time allotted, but all of us have had these moments. The thing that irks me the most is when sadistic teachers collect the paper after everyone’s done writing and DISCUSS it in the examination hall. Nothing could be a worse buzz kill than that. I mean, dude, come on, let me cherish my foolish daydream till result day! Not cool.

2.       The Anticlimax- I swear there is nothing more frustrating than a teacher who insinuates that the paper will be fiendishly tough, 90% of the class will fail, blah blah blah, and then… The paper is so simple, a 5 year old down with a fever could have solved it. Maybe it’s a conspiracy to get us to study. The only saving grace of this kind of paper is that everyone gets awesome marks.

3.       The Blind Snake- I have decided to name this paper in honor of something I once read in a book. ‘You may take pity on a blind snake, but it won’t stop it from biting you’. This kind of question paper is like the antithesis of the Anticlimax. The teacher tells us in voice sweeter than sugar that we have absolutely nothing to worry about and then BAM! A paper so tough, maybe a post-grad level candidate could have a half-decent chance of scoring in it.

4.       The Leaked Paper- Believe it or not, in my 21 years, I haven’t had a single chance to write a leaked paper. So I’m going to assume how writing one feels like. I bet there’s the excitement the night before when the paper is leaked. The frantic riffling of pages to find the answer. The smug feeling when you actually show up for the paper. The agony of fudging up a few answers intentionally because you don’t want the world to know you already knew what was coming your way. *sigh*

5.       The Apocalypse-This is the nuclear mushroom cloud of papers. You know you’ve done your revision impeccably. You know the subject matter like the back of your hand. Hell, you could have written the paper in your sleep, when you’re hungover, when you’re sick, you name it. But when you read the first question, you’re lost. You read the second, you’re even more befuddled. By the time you turn the page, you’re in the midst of a full on panic attack. This question paper is a bouncer. You could have knowledge on the subject from A-Z and yet the questions look like they’ve come from the dark side of the moon. Everyone, without exception, does poorly in this paper. The gang-rape or clusterfuck of papers.

Needless to say, if you’re a student in India, you’ve DEFINITELY had to answer one or more of these papers. Well, for what its worth, for every apocalypse, I hope you’ve had a kindergartner’s IQ level’s paper to compensate!

~ I

Dem Bubbles *-*

Peoples! I gots a confession to make. If I were in a Whatever Anon meeting, I’d start as, “Hi there! My name is ____, I am 21 years old and I am addicted to blowing soap bubbles”

            Yes. You heard that right. I cannot get over this habit. Even my family, which has seen me at my best and my worst are perpetually puzzled by my fixation for something so seemingly silly. My mother tells me “Act your age!” every time I give her that longing look when we see a vendor selling the wand and solution for bubble making at gardens, fairs, festivals, and whatnot. My dad goes one step further. He says “Act at least HALF your age!” when I look at him, after being shot down by my mom. But what I fail to understand is, why can’t anyone else see how therapeutic and delightful this activity can be?

            My earliest memory of bubbles goes back to when I was about three or four years old and my father would make the solution for me by adding some dishwash powder (you know that yellow stuff that our bais and moms would coat on copper and bronze vessels till the blackness went away? That.) to some water. My improvised wand was the dried leaf of a papaya plant. For folks who don’t know, the leaf stem of a papaya plant is hollow. Makes a great bubble wand. Ah! Those were the days, armed with just a bowl of soapy solution and a cut papaya leaf’s stem, I would while away my mornings blowing bubbles and giggling as I watched them float. Then I would invariably slosh the sudsy solution down my flannel pyjamas which I would be duly reprimanded for.

            Have you actually seen a bubble float? Like, taken the time to observe each and every froth fairy that you are responsible for creating? They’re so perfect. Each and every one of them; big or small. The larger ones are ever so slightly clumsy, wobbling around in shapes of ellipses or ovals until they bob gently away as contended circles. The smaller ones are always faster, obviously because they’re much lighter. They swirl away, eager to be free, borne so effortlessly in the air.

            I always was of the opinion that a burst bubble is not something to be sad over. Bubbles, to me, are extremely confident things (I can just barely refrain from calling them ‘creatures’); so sure of where they’ve come from and where they want to go. Even if they make it an inch away from you before popping, they do it so merrily, you can’t help but think ‘That bubble’s life’s intention was to float one inch and then die’.

            There are those funny Siamese twin bubbles; two of them joined together because a new one formed while the old one hadn’t been detached from the wand. Despite being round on all other sides, their detached sides are always flat. They float with the slightest hint of incoordination, like each one has made up its own mind to go a different way. One bubble always pops before the other and the now unbound one always floats off gleefully, as though glad to be able to move unrestricted. As a child, I would blow air into the soap solution through my straw, hoping to create foam. The largest of the foam bubbles would be scooped by straw and I would set free four or five conjoined bubbles, just to see who would survive the longest.

That's just a few of the bubbles I was making this very afternoon

            I’ve often experimented with the location of bubbles. Sometimes I sit in a really quiet room. During such times, bubbles move sluggishly, inching their way to the floor. Sometimes they spiral slowly around each other like cautious butterflies, rising at first and then falling. If there is silence around, you can hear the sound they make when they pop. It’s like a cross between a plop and a ping. Sometimes I stand out in the open or just near my terrace or a window. Its pretty fascinating how a bubble starts its adventure slow, and then is briskly taken away by a breeze to destinations unknown. Blowing bubbles in a room with the fan turned on to full is another thrill altogether. Suddenly, you’re in the foam flurry with bubbles EVERYWHERE doing the St. Vitus’ dance and popping into foam flecks before you can even blink.

            A bubble’s colour! Oh, if I could, I would write poetry about a bubble’s colour. Some bubbles are shy; just plain and transparent, not that their charm is diminished in any way by it. Certain bubbles glimmer gold; like they hold sunlight in them. Some shimmer with myriad hues of pinks and purples and blues and green… An ever-shifting, utterly mesmerizing kaleidoscope.

There is, of course, a scientific explanation for all the hues, but when you are faced with a multitude of glob shaped rainbows in front of your eyes, will you be enraptured by the sight or will you try calculating the refractive index of the soap solution? That shows the kind of person one is, his or her capacity to wonder; to marvel at the smallest of miracles. In a world where cynicism is the order of the day, I am absolutely  unapologetic about seeking delight in my (however childish) hobby.

[Also, as a young adult who’s mind is partially, if not ALWAYS in the gutter, some phrases in this piece leap out at me with their dirtiness. I am fully responsible for all the puns you may have read, although they all were unintended. But if it made you smile, you’re welcome]

~ I

My Take On The HIMYM Finale

A lot has been said about the episode that ended the nine year story that Ted bored his kids with. Millions have been left outraged and confused with the sudden bait-and-switch in the last five to ten minutes of The Last Forever Part Two. For all of you who’ve been living under a sound-proof rock, SPOILER ALERT! To summarize, Ted and The Mother (whose name was finally revealed to be Tracy McConnell) were an instant click, the moment they met, then they lived in blissful happiness, had two children they loved and adored before, BOOM! Tracy passes away of a sudden illness, Ted and the kids mourn her loss, and six years after her death, he sits his kids down to tell them the longest, most winding dinner time story ever conceived; at the end of which, his kids (who have been shown to be incredibly adept at reading subtext, because HONESTLY, even I did not see this coming) realize that this isn’t a story of how their dad met their mom, it’s a story of how much their dad is crushing on their Aunt Robin. And they encourage him whole heartedly to go get her. Twenty five years after he saw her across a crowded bar.

      For someone who had no prior knowledge of HIMYM, I’m sure the previous paragraph must have made you clutch your heart with a wistful “Awww”. Same goes for all those people who’ve always shipped Robin and Ted. Please bear in mind that I do have anything personal against the ship, everyone’s choices vary. But I have never seen a couple that contrast so spectacularly! Yes, it’s all very well and good that opposites attract, but would I be wrong in saying that Robin was more of the guy in the relationship than Ted?

      Through nine seasons, Ted was always about making the grand gesture for Robin; whether it was stealing the Blue French Horn to get her to be his girlfriend, or putting up Christmas decorations synchronized to Highway to Hell just to cheer her up (even though he didn’t know what was really making her upset). And Robin, with her career driven persona and her dislike for (and later, inability to) have children seemed to be so utterly wrong for Ted.

      I must admit, when I saw the season of finale of S08, all I could think was “THIS is the Mother?” However, over the course of season 9, I grew to love Cristin Milioti so much. The writers put so much warmth and humor into Tracy’s character that Milioti executed so effortlessly. I doubt someone like her would EVER exist in real life; she’s too perfect. She gets along with everyone in some way or the other, because, of course, her character was written to be that way. She’s like the universe’s personally created jigsaw piece meant to fit into Ted’s own crooked and jagged life. Her entry into his life was also perfectly timed- he had just decided to finally let go of the woman he was smitten with for close to a decade and start over.

      The finale was an hour long to be sure, but there were far too many time leaps and loose ends to tie up for it to be done in a manner that offered enough justice to everything.

      For all those who say that Barney’s character regressed; I would beg to differ. It was shown that no woman that he loved as a soul mate was ever able to change him, be it Robin, Quinn or Nora. But the birth of his daughter turned his life around a 180 degrees. He finally saw the world differently. If he needed a child for it to be so, obviously, it would never have happened, had he been with Robin. Despite this, I did not like seeing them get divorced. By and large, Barney and Robin were (again, WRITTEN) to be perfect together.

      I did not enjoy how Lily was merely reduced to a sniveling mama with just the one dialogue “But Robin promised to be here for all the big moments!” all throughout the last bit of the finale. Marshall’s struggle in the dog-eat-dog world of corporate law, which clearly did not appeal to him, was again, severely downplayed.

      The Apartment did not get its due of farewells. That space bore witness to the turbulence in the lives of the whole group and I feel they should have paid some kind of homage to it.

      The Mother’s time spent with Ted was again shown only in snippets, which left me asking for more. The banter and chemistry between Tracy and Ted is just so HAPPY, for lack of a better word, you cant help but wish that they had eternity to spend with each other.

      I think that Robin was dealt the worst hand of cards. She was always shown to be travelling, jet setting to the ends of the world for her job which made her miss out on everything her friends went through. She eventually had a divorce and by the time she realized that Ted could quite possibly be the one for her, he was blissfully happy with Tracy. Had Robin Scherbatsky’s character been a more driven, aloof one, it would have been a very good feminist stand- to have a strong, empowered female lead, focused unblinkingly on being on top of the media world- would have been better. But Robin has been shown to be hurting and torn between her career and her friends. It makes me wanna think, ‘Now girly, wouldn’t it have been wiser to just compromise?’ Eventually Robin ended up all alone with just her dogs for company, which (despite being the ardent dog-lover I am), I cannot imagine myself ever doing so.

      The scenes depicting Barney meeting his daughter and Tracy’s death were far too fleeting; over before the feels even hit you. I must admit, I watched the entire finale with almost clinical detachment whereas episodes like How Your Mother Met Me and Gary Blauman had me bawling. When the creators could spend 22 episodes stretched into 72 hours’ worth of events, couldn’t they have shown an epilogue that their viewers could have clicked with better?

      Ted saw himself losing Robin to her career. He saw himself losing her to his best friend. More than once. Still, till the very end, he wished her no ill will. I wonder how many of us could have managed to do that. To love with such determination. And to continue to love, despite distance and circumstance. I think it must have been intensely painful to love someone like that. That’s why Ted deserved Tracy; someone who had also loved and lost… They were meant to replace the unhappiness of each others’ lives.

      Even though he stressed that he felt thankful for every moment he spent with Tracy, I still felt like the creators of the show made it look like Ted was merely whiling away the time before he could make Robin his again.

      If I could, I would lock away the memories of the whole finale debacle very deep into the recesses of my brain. In my version, Tracy wouldn’t die, and she and Ted would live happily ever after, as would Robin and Barney and Marshall and Lily. The moral of the finale is to show us that life is never fairy tale perfect. But when you’ve been executing nine years of universe scripted perfection, couldn’t I ask for just one piece more?

~ I

Birds' Gotta Drink!

These two events may seem to be a figment of my imagination, and I wouldn't even blame you for thinking so. After all, being confined to my hostel for three continuous weeks, would you blame me if I started seeing things that weren’t actually there? But let me assure you, I witnessed these with my own two eyes. And my fellow hostel-ites can vouch for at least one of these, if not both.

            I was compelled to chronicle the sights I saw, because it shows the sheer ingenuity present in the so called “dumb” animals all around us. Sure sometimes they may do stupid and hilarious things, because that’s just what their instincts tell them. But sometimes it’s astounding to see the level of smarts they display to adapt to their ever changing environment. Like Darwin said, it’s truly ‘survival of the fittest’ out there. Fittest brain, to be exact.

            So, one day, I was washing my clothes in the hostel courtyard. It was a hot afternoon, despite it being January. Global warming is real folks, don’t you forget it. Anyway, for the uninitiated, girls wash their clothes and their vessels at the same tap in the hostel (mercifully not with the same soap!). The tiles around are never dry. And the plain shahabadi has been slowly eroded away to leave irregularly shaped puddles around them. Water, scummy things, soap dregs, foam and a whole lot of nasty things collect in these puddles. Man, if you ever accidentally step in them, I’d recommend bathing your feet five times.

Back to the point. It was a hot day and I washing my clothes. Just then, I noticed a pigeon flutter down pretty close to me. The pigeons in my hostel are not exactly tame, but they’re not completely feral anymore. They’re very vexing pests. They make nests in unlikely places, shower the corridors with a lot of pigeon poop and their chicks have a grating squeal that could rouse zombies from the ground. The worst part is that nothing intimidates them. No matter how hard we try to scare them away, they just sit resolutely and give us the evil eye, in a manner which strongly reminds me of Nigel the cockatoo from the movie Rio.

This particular pigeon, on that particular afternoon, was a thirsty bird. He waddled about and a puddle of cholera attracted his attention. He dipped his beak in it and just as quick, withdrew it, evident disgust apparent on his face. Then the still-dripping tap caught his eye. He fluttered to the tap handle and tried getting upside down to get to the water. All this while, I was crouching on the ground, motionless, wanting to see what the pigeon would do. A part of me marveled at his acrobatic ability even as most of me was transfixed by his efforts. Then he became upright and unmistakably, he gave me the evil eye. A haughty, villainous look which clearly said ‘Minion. I want water. I expect you to give me water’. For a moment I just looked at the pigeon. And the pigeon looked back at me first from one eye and then from the other in that odd way that only birds can. I got up and walked to the tap. And quicker than blinking the bugger flew away. Minion, my foot. Nevertheless, since I felt bad for the bird, I turned the tap ever so slightly so that a light trickle of water started falling. No sooner did I turn back to my clothes, that the pigeon returned and started drinking. After that, till my chore was completed, I kept the tap turned to a slight trickle, which may seem wasteful to some of you, but a score of sparrows and a few more pigeons deigned to visit and have their full of water. Normally, I’m a person who takes the extra effort to secure a dripping tap. But as I sat there that afternoon, I couldn’t help but marvel at a mere pigeon’s instinct of self preservation. I’ve seen doofus dogs merrily lap at puddles of water which could be containing just about any lethal thing, and then they lop away like nothing ever happened. But that pigeon blew my mind.

The second and more unbelievable thing that I witnessed leaves this pigeon thing in the dust. About a week ago, I happened to be in the hostel garden. The trees were filled with great black crows, cawing in their hoarse voices. Suddenly, one crow flew down to the tap in the garden and before my shocked eyes, he turned the tap! With his claws! Water started gushing out, and cool as a cucumber, the crow gladly helped himself and flew away, before I could pick up my jaw from the ground. But no! Wait! He was followed by two more of his brethren in rapid succession, one that simply drank and flew away, and one that drank to his fill and turned the water off before flying away. For a few seconds I could not find my voice. Then I proceeded to run in and inform my friends of my discovery. The joke was on me. I was the last person to come to know of this! Everyone in my hostel had seen the dexterous ingenious crows before. I couldn’t believe I that a trio of such astute animals lived in such close proximity to me and I had never noticed. Man, I should be given dibs to the next Kit Kat ad!

            When one thinks about it, what have we not taken away from the birds? We’ve taken away the trees in which they make their homes. We’ve taken away the sprawling fields where they got their food. We’ve taken away their clean lakes, ponds and rivers. We’ve taken away their clean, pure air. We bombard them with airwaves twenty-four-seven. We dump rubbish and chemicals everywhere. We’re choking them slowly. But their resilience must be saluted. They are thriving, not just coping, with all the inadequacies.

In short, moral of the story, the next time you are tempted to call someone a ‘bird-brain’, re-think that. They’re secretly plotting to take over the world. One human appliance at a time.

~ Inquisitive I

Just Your (A)typical Love Story

This is my birthday gift to my boyfriend. Happy birthday love :* (It mostly sicks to the facts. Mostly)

            In a typically stereotypical fashion, their story started out with antagonism. He was a jock; she was a geek. They were destined to clash. She hated him outwardly; sighed inwardly at every corny joke. She catcalled outwardly; swooned inwardly at every bike stunt he displayed or every goal he scored in gulley football. He was intrigued by her; he knew he couldn’t observe her without losing his status quo among his friends, so he sneaked sidelong looks at her and tried to learn all he could about her. She was partial to kohl; he liked how it made her eyes shine. He was prone to styling his hair with obscene amounts of hair gel; she liked how it accentuated his distinctly feline features. They never shared their admissions with their friends.

            She could never understand his compulsion to make every serious statement a joke. Every time she make a scornful noise at one of his (in his mind) excellent quips, he mentally vowed to rile her up all the more. She always went into raptures of delight when Desi Girl played. When she heard him admit “kadak gaana hai yaar!” about that very song, she made it a point to loudly proclaim how much the song got on her nerves. He smirked openly; inwardly he was confused. He was hoping she would soften towards him on learning they liked the same song.

            They went for Marathi tuitions together, but they weren’t in the same batch. She always pretended to be disgruntled on the days their batches were combined. He did all he could to get her attention. She sneaked glances at him over her textbook. He was riveted every time it was her turn to read a passage. She was glad for all the jokes he made, it gave her an excuse to stare at him legitimately. However, she never graced his efforts by laughing.

            His friends told him that she was a prude. Privately, he never agreed. Her friends told her that he was bad news. Privately, she agreed whole heartedly. She had heard him exchange words with people he didn’t like. He made no bones about going up against girls too. The scars that marred his face only heightened the aura of danger surrounding him. But which girl didn’t feel viciously attracted to a bad boy?

            One day he crossed the line. He razzed on about her friend’s boyfriend. She hated confrontations but she couldn’t bear to see her friends being picked on. She said a great many things to him; which she began to regret almost immediately. He said nothing. He defiantly met her eyes but his uncharacteristic silence unnerved her as she left.

            When her guilt wouldn’t let her sleep, she got his number from a friend who owed her. She composed an apology. He brushed it aside and extended the olive branch. From then on, they were friends.

            The day she chose to tell her friends, they immediately told her what a bad idea it was; fraternizing with someone who was obviously not good company. She refused to take their advice. The day he chose to tell his friends, they all told him it was because she liked him. He did not want to believe it just then.

            In a time when message packs did not exist and each message and minute cost a rupee apiece, their friendship blossomed. She learnt that his favorite clubs were Liverpool and Arsenal. He learnt that she loved dogs. They learnt that they both loved Linkin Park. Their previous misconceptions melted away. In the troubled times of tenth standard, he gladly took all her study tips. She always gave him a missed call at 4.30 am in lieu of an alarm, so that he could wake up and study.

            When her school bus was late, she’d see his pass by her house. They always waved to one another. When he started getting his first vestiges of stubble, she told him that she liked it. He kept it and faced a reprimand at school for it, but he didn’t care.

            She invited him to her school fete. When he came, she was busy manning the DJ stall. He gave a small smile every time her voice declared the next song and the message it conveyed. He found her once stall duty ended. Even before she could declare that she was parched, he offered her a glass of 7 Up. He would not let her pay. She blushed into her glass as she took a sip.

            Her friends would not let up the teasing. She claimed that he would never reciprocate her feelings, chunky and bespectacled that she was. She hastened to clarify that she would never jeopardize their friendship. His friends would not let up the teasing. He remained stoic; not because he didn’t like her, but because she kept insisting they were nothing more than friends, so he did not want to be the one to break her illusion.

            She asked him to be her Valentine. He wondered if it were a proposition in disguise. She told him that even friends could be Valentines. He was exasperated; at the end of his tether. He couldn’t believe she was still stringing on this charade. Still, he played along, for her.

            That day, she got a phone call. A prank call. A vicious, malicious prank call that chipped away at all her self-esteem and had her sobbing at the end of it. He confessed that he was the one who supplied her number to her tormentors. She felt stung at his betrayal. He told her that he was not aware of their intentions when they has asked for her number. Her heart balked at his explanation, she wanted, so badly, to not believe him, but her mind told her that he was being sincere. In that moment, he believed her shattered heart and in a scene that was reminiscent of a few months ago, she told him things that she should not have. And he did not say a word; which was unlike the scrapper that he was. All he could do was watch her walk away.

            Sense caught up with her. It was hard to swallow her hurt and call him. He answered in the middle of the first ring. He brushed away her apology with one of his own. The last time was the beginning of a friendship. She wondered what this what the beginning of.

            She admitted that she had always in love with him. He admitted that he had always been in love with her. And that marked the beginning of something more

- Inquisitive I

           

A KNPian Speaks

My take on my college in my three years of being here. Originally written as an essay to be submitted for the college's silver jubilee celebrations.

Has anyone ever heard a glowing parent express in pride, “Mera beta bada hoke veterinarian banke apne mummy-papa ka naam roshan karega”? Honest show of hands, now. None? I thought as much. Another honest observation that I myself have made. On an average, five out of every ten people one comes across have no idea what the word “veterinarian” even means. It felt like the community of vets was invisible to almost everybody but all that changed once I finally found like minded people, here, at Krantisinsh Nana Patil College of Veterinary Science.

          KNP has stood as a proud institution for 25 years on the banks of the river Nira, on Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj’s sacred ground. It has borne testimony to the dreams of hundreds of students who have passed through here. It is a home away from home. Scores of people have learnt valuable lessons here; not all of them academic.

          I’m sure if the walls could speak, they would divulge so many secrets. This college has seen so much that has happened. It has seen the comings and goings of so many students and staff over the years. It has seen how effective teaching practices and a strong will can mould students from being lost dreamers to strong go-getters. The students who come here, may not necessarily know why they have come or how will they get through their five years here. Not everyone has a fixed life plan at the age of 18. Our thoughts change so fast, we can barely keep up! And the more we learn, we see, we experience, the more we want to do something in life that will bring fulfillment and a sense of accomplishment for us. I’m sure everyone who has passed through the halls of this institution can confirm that while they were here, their life took a new direction.

          This college has stood testament to the interactions of students who came here from different social strata, economic backgrounds, ideologies, attitudes and personalities. I’m sure that not all interactions may have been amicable, but each and every one of us has grown and matured as a human being during our time spent here. It isn’t easy to uproot oneself from everything that is familiar and come to spend weeks at a time away from family and loved ones. But being in the hostel has taught us all the importance of responsibility, adaptability and learning to stand on our own feet.

          Many of us came here with a lot of doubts about the scope of this field. However, our opinion quickly changed. We learnt that veterinary science is not just about opening a clinic and spending the rest of our days stewed up in it. The field has immense, immeasurable scope. Students can opt for research and development or go into animal husbandry related fields just as easily as taking on a core clinical field.

          One cannot forgo a particular topic when one talks about a veterinary college. The main beneficiaries of course! Countless animals have been benefitted by the knowledge and expertise of the dedicated doctors here at KNP. Our polyclinic caters to patients as far away as Satara and Pune. Regular camps are conducted for the adopted villages. Not to mention, the numerous animals who have been benefitted by the distinguished alumni of our college.

          Everyone here at KNP is a part of a large, yet tightly knit family. This degree of closeness and the bond that keeps us all working together in harmony is a flavor unique to our college. Like every family, each and every member (whether two legged or four) has their own unique personalities. We clash, we argue, we spit fire at times but despite it all, we stay united. KNPians truly know how to multiply joy and reduce sorrow by sharing problems and happy moments with one another. While we are here, we are taught to respect seniors and the staff and to show strict adherence for rules, whether they be college rules, hostel rules or mess rules.

          The months seem to fly by here. We all grow together, study together, play together, have fun together and face the problems of life together. This college nurtures our dreams and hones our skills and ensures holistic development of every student that comes here. Our exemplary staff impart their knowledge to us in a way that is interactive and fun. Our wits and skill are tested through exams and we learn to do self study and hone a business sense for ourselves through non credit courses like tracking programs, study circles and entrepreneurship program.

          This college holds a very special place in my heart. It has taught me so many new things, let me meet so many incredible people and animals and in this process I have learnt so many things about myself. The journey has been fantastic so far and I am glad that there still is so much more road to be covered. Above all, I am grateful because I am being groomed for one of the noblest professions in the world. For, after all it was said by Henry W Longfellow,

“Among the noblest in the land

Though man may count himself the least

That man I honor and revere

Who, without favor, without fear

In the great city dares to stand

The friend of every friendless beast”

- Inquisitive I