My brain, or whatever passed for one, has been sucked out. My head is now a vacuum, a nothingness. Ah, what bliss! Zombie-dom has been achieved courtesy the B. Obviously. I should make a zombie movie out of this. Instead of ancient curses and mutated animals, the B would take on the non-zombies - single-handed. A la Rajni.
Except the B's weapon would be verbosity.
Saturday, 6 June 2009
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
La famille B...
It's bad enough we have THE B to deal with, now we have inferior clones as well. Junior sits next to S and drives her crazy everyday. She's going to have a breakdown soon. What does he do that's so irritating, you may ask. Well, he breaks into song every now and again, especially popular Hindi numbers. Or shows off his Punjabi roots and then dabbles in the little Bengali he knows. The worst though is when he comes and waves his hands in front of your face and asks random questions, and sagely advises all to 'chill dude cos nothing is worth it'. Thanks, O Maharishi! That's the unasked for advice I need just after the B has been harassing me and spouting gyan at me.
Then there is the female junior b. Again encouraged by B, she asks inane questions and insists that if she as a layperson doesn't get our story then its a stupid story and we must drop all our work and answer all questions she has right away. And of course she tells us fascinating biological theory such as viruses evolved, reached the pinnacle and found it not so good, and so un-evolved themselves (see my earlier post on this amazing theory that Darwin and Wallace would have killed to come up with).
La famille B: B, et b et b.
Then there is the female junior b. Again encouraged by B, she asks inane questions and insists that if she as a layperson doesn't get our story then its a stupid story and we must drop all our work and answer all questions she has right away. And of course she tells us fascinating biological theory such as viruses evolved, reached the pinnacle and found it not so good, and so un-evolved themselves (see my earlier post on this amazing theory that Darwin and Wallace would have killed to come up with).
La famille B: B, et b et b.
Saturday, 30 May 2009
The flock flocketh...
I should invest in an global positioning satellite system. And tag everyone remotely associated with my office. Everyday I get asked questions - "Where is A? Is she coming to office today? Where is P? Where are the bosses? Are they coming to office? Where is...."
I cannot for the life of me fathom why I should know the answers to these endless queries. I tried telling folks politely that I don't have a GPS tracking device attached to my colleagues and bosses, neither can I read their minds, nor do they keep me informed of their whereabouts on a minute by minute basis.
But still people flock towards me. Even when the office is choc-a-block with people, these souls will unerring head towards me. And when I wear headphones to drown the incessant chatter, they will still come and ask me all these questions which I can't hear. So I'm forced to remove said headphones and go "What?". And of course, thick and fast come the standard queries that make me grind my teeth and bare them in a facsimile of a smile.
What to do? I put up a sign on the noticeboard next to me, "I am not my brother's keeper. I do not know where people are."
And still they flock-eth away. I need to move to the outer Mongolia...but I'm sure they will still find me.
I cannot for the life of me fathom why I should know the answers to these endless queries. I tried telling folks politely that I don't have a GPS tracking device attached to my colleagues and bosses, neither can I read their minds, nor do they keep me informed of their whereabouts on a minute by minute basis.
But still people flock towards me. Even when the office is choc-a-block with people, these souls will unerring head towards me. And when I wear headphones to drown the incessant chatter, they will still come and ask me all these questions which I can't hear. So I'm forced to remove said headphones and go "What?". And of course, thick and fast come the standard queries that make me grind my teeth and bare them in a facsimile of a smile.
What to do? I put up a sign on the noticeboard next to me, "I am not my brother's keeper. I do not know where people are."
And still they flock-eth away. I need to move to the outer Mongolia...but I'm sure they will still find me.
Monday, 18 May 2009
We are second only...
My mother was taking a break from work in Pudukottai and decided to visit the local museum. Its apparently badly curated, filled with a lot of random junk from stuffed animals to Mughal miniature paintings (probably fake ones). The stuffed animals will thrilling rare creatures like mynahs and crows. And of course the labels accompanying the animals was full of information - CROWS, MYNAHS.
Same went for the armoury - random cannons (marked CANNONS), and spears. The highlight was the guy in charge proudly told mother mine that the museum was second only to the one in Egmore, Chennai. Second in what? Second only madam. Egmore is first.
Make what you will of that! And then there was the brilliant Mughal miniature of some female and a musical instrument aptly titled, "Mughal miniature showing musical instrument with lady".
Same went for the armoury - random cannons (marked CANNONS), and spears. The highlight was the guy in charge proudly told mother mine that the museum was second only to the one in Egmore, Chennai. Second in what? Second only madam. Egmore is first.
Make what you will of that! And then there was the brilliant Mughal miniature of some female and a musical instrument aptly titled, "Mughal miniature showing musical instrument with lady".
Saturday, 16 May 2009
The world is my brother...
I had just climbed a mountain in Himachal with a couple of friends and friend's friends. After a tiring hike up and down the mountain, we were recovering over cups of hot tea and maggi, when the talk veered to tiger conservation. And one of the friend's friends, a guy named P was talking about his office - a wildlife NGO in Delhi. I remembered my aunt mentioning some cousin who worked in the same place. She had in fact told me to get in touch with said cousin. Not that I had, obviously. So I asked P if he knew this chap, A. And P does a double take and says, thats me! I'm A.
Rather confused, I said but you're P! It turns out he is A P Z! So I asked him if his mom was called, L and he had aunts, R and J and an grandmother called R... It was P's turn to be confused. Finally it turns out we are third cousins! What are the odds? Looks like I'm related to half the world. Wherever I go I bump into family. As a friend insists, this could only happen to me!!!
Rather confused, I said but you're P! It turns out he is A P Z! So I asked him if his mom was called, L and he had aunts, R and J and an grandmother called R... It was P's turn to be confused. Finally it turns out we are third cousins! What are the odds? Looks like I'm related to half the world. Wherever I go I bump into family. As a friend insists, this could only happen to me!!!
Monday, 27 April 2009
B(f)ereted out?
If I'm out of a job this month, it will be because the B has discovered my secret... this blog. The blog that has several posts about the B. And what made me think he knows about the blog? In the meeting today, he asked someone to 'pronounciate'. What are the odds that it was an innocent comment?
If its innocent, then I should object to copyright infringement. I feel rather possessive of the word, having stolen it from a dumb American.
If its innocent, then I should object to copyright infringement. I feel rather possessive of the word, having stolen it from a dumb American.
Tuesday, 21 April 2009
Brevity...
Brief, concise, terse, curt, pithy....
These are words alien to my office. Our meetings are at least three hours long, our conversations are more like speeches - especially when the B is involved. The motto is, never use one word when you can say it in 20. The pinnacle of such piffling, waffling, beating about the bush, extraneous conversation is the lady of nasal talk. She who presides over the second floor. The nasal bong. Every time she opens her mouth to waffle on, the urge to whack her over the head is overwhelming. First there is that irritating, juvenile, trying to be cutesy 16 year-old nasal accent. And then there is the endless spouting of bull. "You know, I saw that and I wondered whether it was right. But we were pressed for time and I wasn't sure so I didn't bother. (Humming sounds). And I think it is a bit of arrogance on our part. We, XXXX, are so sure of ourselves sometimes we just don't think we can do wrong.....,". And it continues in that vein endlessly.
I was trying to waffle too and be un-curt, un-concise, un-brief, un-terse, un-pithy. But I am afraid my attempt pales in comparison to the masters of the art. I am that unhappy soul who is neither terse nor waffly. What to do? We are like that only.
These are words alien to my office. Our meetings are at least three hours long, our conversations are more like speeches - especially when the B is involved. The motto is, never use one word when you can say it in 20. The pinnacle of such piffling, waffling, beating about the bush, extraneous conversation is the lady of nasal talk. She who presides over the second floor. The nasal bong. Every time she opens her mouth to waffle on, the urge to whack her over the head is overwhelming. First there is that irritating, juvenile, trying to be cutesy 16 year-old nasal accent. And then there is the endless spouting of bull. "You know, I saw that and I wondered whether it was right. But we were pressed for time and I wasn't sure so I didn't bother. (Humming sounds). And I think it is a bit of arrogance on our part. We, XXXX, are so sure of ourselves sometimes we just don't think we can do wrong.....,". And it continues in that vein endlessly.
I was trying to waffle too and be un-curt, un-concise, un-brief, un-terse, un-pithy. But I am afraid my attempt pales in comparison to the masters of the art. I am that unhappy soul who is neither terse nor waffly. What to do? We are like that only.
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