Lazy we!

The world’s filled with lazy people. Including me. Blame it on technology, and the stuff it brings along. I mean, how else do you explain the LOLs and the Hmmms and the WTFs?

Take a normal chat conversation, for instance.

Reena: And then I said this..and then he wus like whoa..oh god it was so funn! you shud have been there and damn I don’t believe it happened.

Me: LOL.

(Hand on chin, droopy eyes, breathing through my mouth.)

Now that’s definitely not how I LOL. I’m just too lazy to even laugh and too lazy to even type out anything more that I feel, about my friend’s funny experience. So I LOL. How convenient.

Here’s another one.

Tina: So babe, you know what I mean right? It’s like serious. You know I’d say it coz there’s a reason. Right?

Me: Hmmmm.

(Minimising windows, replying to Mary who just popped up from another window and trying hard to get some Maggie twisted on to a fork.)

“Hmm” just means, go on, whatever!

Hey now don’t give me that look. It’s not just me, right? It’s what you, Reena, Tina and Mary would do too! We’re lazy. Let’s just face the truth. Too lazy to even express. Forget the online conversations. When was the last time you told somebody how much you love them? Or even worse, when was the last time you actually LOL?

While on one hand, we spend half our time romancing with technology and expressing half heartedly with fake emotions, we’ve forgotten how a warm bear “hug” feels or what the joy of receiving a tight, passionate “mmuah” is! ;) Lucky are those, who haven’t.

Like now, as I type this, I’ve keyed in a lot of “hmms” and “lols” and “ohhs” and “hehehes” across various chat windows. Sorry you, on the other side, you still have all my attention. Swear to God. And I promise, that when I LOL to your last ping, mom walked in to my room and went “What the hell was that?” See? I did laugh out loud!

So I hereby make an oath. That no matter how stuck to my chair my ass is, I shall express more. I may not “roll on the floor laughing my ass out”, but I will, for sure, smile when I click on a smiley, listen carefully and ponder when I “hmmm”, and will not stop at a “hehehe.”

;) (I just winked, really.)



And then just when Sasi thought that he was done dealing with the most difficult aspect of being in a relationship, just when Sasi had given in to the million-dollar, diamond studded, salt rich tears that rolled down those wrinkled cheeks, Sasi was in for problem no.2!

Sasi’s ex-girlfriend’s best friend! Tada!

Aaargh! That bleddy biatch! That nightmare of my first nights! That fighter of a woman who’ll scratch, bite and shred me at sight and inject those venomous thoughts into my poor little, angelic ex-girlfriend’s mind! She who ripped me off my aww-nice-guy image and crumbled me into teeny weenie pieces of shame, disgrace and humiliation. She who made me the bad boy of every Hindi movie.

Tsk..tsk..tsk! Poor Sasi.

So now what do I do! Oh there’s an update. Oh a new pic. Shit! The biatch’s liked it! Ugh. She commented. Oh my God a new note! It’s all about me. I know it, I know it! And there a thumbs up! The world’s going to see it. They’re all gonna know it’s about me. They’ll all hate me now. Can’t these women stop talking about me? Can’t they just let me be? Oh! Oh! I know what to do! Aah! Why didn’t I think of this before? You wait and watch you best friend, you woman! Here I go, I UNFRIEND you! CLICK! And, she’s gone! Phew! That was close.


So safe Sasi feels in his new found world. So blissfully unaware of the action outside. Locked from all sides, blocked in a page of his own, Sasi chooses what to see and what others must see. Sasi’s startled at a post and Sasi trembles down a note. Reading between lines and staying awake all night. I pity Sasi so much. And Sasi’s scary sad life. But then like they say, boys will be boys. And sasi will always be Sasi. Looks like they’ll never grow up.


Looking for advice.

I walked into the advice store to find advice. The big bold fonts, that flashed in bright yellow neon, wooed me in. “Now these guys ought to have something for me.” I told myself. I’d gone almost everywhere tried almost everyone, but nobody really had what I really wanted. They were either too old or they simply wouldn’t fit me. The advice store however, looked quite promising.

A warm smile stood by the door to welcome me. I walked in and a tight hug greeted me. There was a couch waiting and I rested myself on its lap. I leaned to the side and I felt light in the head, already.

The store was big. And there was advice of every kind, hanging in almost every corner. There were shelves full of it too. And baskets and cupboards and folders and bags. There was advice spilling out from everywhere. Like nobody needed them anymore. Like they’ve been there for years together but nobody’s walked in looking for one.

It was started, they say, by a man from the hills. He traveled around the world looking for advice and finally found so much that he had to find a place to put them all. There was advice from the mountains, advice from the seas. Advice from Texas, from Greece and even from the trees. There was a piece of advice, heaps of it, there were harsh ones and the ones you just wanted.

There were pretty ones, knitted with lace, and dark ones you’d never want to take. There were funny ones, sincere ones, some friendly advice and unwanted ones too. I looked around and wondered what to take. I scratched my head, bit my nails, frowned a lot but just couldn’t decide. Everything looked so good, like they were just right for me. But every time I tried one, I’d wriggle out of it.

So then again I decided that this isn’t perhaps what I need. And just when I did, a note caught my eye. A crumbled piece of brown paper, with red ink smudged all over. And written in awfully bad handwriting, was the following text:

“Oh dear one, looking for advice. Why come here for what you seek? It’s all out there and ready for you to take. Look at where you’ve been and think of what you’ve done. You’ve perhaps missed something, and that’s probably what you need. Look at where you’ve been and think of what you’ve done.”

It was signed, the man from the hills.

And so I leave the advice store and all the advice there. And go on looking for mine, from everywhere I’ve been. I try them each, one by one, and to my surprise, they fit me just right. Like they were made for me and nobody else, but me.

Who else would know what fits me best? Who else would know what exactly I need. No lacy advice, no friendly ones, none of those work for me. What does is what I have. Made from what I know of me.


Shoo Cow!

A random ranting dedicated to the cows of the world. You cow out there, this one’s for you!

Such cowards, these cows.

So little, their thoughts

Their tails, so long.

Their horns, so sharp.

And yet so dumb.

Such cowards, these cows.

They moo as the pout

Or pout as they moo

That’s all they do

Such cowards, these cows.

They chew and spit

And chew and spit

They take it back in

And squeeze it all out

Oh cow do you know how fake you look?

With those big fat lips, and that stained brown teeth.

You poker faced meat, oh you poor thing, you.

I love you, yes, but I pity you too.

You thick skinned fellah

You dirty old creep

Go dig some junk

And dig deep in.