Random thoughts

heh heh.. wrote this aaaaages (a year and a half) ago, and realised its still pretty relevant :p

to diet or not to diet…. That is the crucial question for all of us with slightly portly figures.(..only slightly portly, mind you!! ) True, working out is a more effective way of shedding those extra pounds, but some ppl (e.g., yours truly) are too lazy for anything more strenuous than a walk to the canteen and back :p :):). So, the only alternative left is the array of supposedly effective diets. After much thought and consideration.. as well as a week of binging and constant snacking, my mum and I finally decided to give the “GM diet” a shot.

For all those not in the know, GM stands for “General Motors”. The diet was initially developed for GM employees, but its reputation has now spread world-wide. The diet is for 7 days, and the gist of it is as follows:

Day 1- only fruits

Day 2-only vegetables (does NOT include crispy fried potatoes!)

Day 3- fruits and veggies

Day 4- bananas and milk!!

Day 5- 1 cup rice + 6 tomatoes!

Day 6- 1 cup rice+veggies

Day 7-1 cup rice+veggies+fruit juice

Bizarre isn’t it??!! I almost gave up when I saw day 4’s menu… but I happened to glance at myself in the mirror, and that strengthened my resolve! We decided to start on a lazy Sunday, and sent my dad to go stock up on fruits on sat night. He went reluctantly, mumbling something bout “these batty women..!!! “. ( btw, confession- the only fruits I ever eat are apples! )… so Sunday morning.. ½ an apple for breakfast, before rushin off somewhere. I come back home at lunchtime to find a satiated mother, having eaten a papaya, a chikku, and a custard apple!! …lol.. for lunch, I had.. big surprise.. an apple.. now getting thoroughly fed up of the fruit, I somehow choked it down thinking about all the clothes I could fit into in a week!!... the rest of the afternoon was spent staring wistfully at a bottle of pickle, while my mum darted longing looks at my dad wolfing down biryani!! .. finally at 5, we said enough is enough, and ate haldiram’s ‘khatta meeta’ and biryani to our hearts’ contents.. assuaging our conscience, saying that after all, 1^st day etc etc…

The next day was a lot better…. A stick of carrot for breakfast, salad for lunch, and baked potato for dinner.. we felt much better ( though a tad empty in our middles).and then, day 3- baked potatoes for lunch… which became very soggy potatoes by the time I ate them :(:( meanwhile, my mum was sending me grinny msgs bout how she went out and had a proper “shaapaad”, complete with 2 bowls of paayasam!! Sigh. So, by the time I got back, I was super hungry, and madder than a nest of hornets!!..., so, I broke the diet again- 1 bowl of strawberry muesli!!.. yummy!! :):):)…. And then, we realised, day 4 was bananas an milk, and there weren’t any bananas at home… my mum , thinking day 4 was supposed to be tomatoes and rice, happily made lip-smacking tomato rice, swimming in ghee!!… so, we dint have too much of a choice.. to hell with the diet!!... I’m perfectly happy with my size… so what if I can never wear size ‘xs’…. At least I can eat what I want, whenever I want… I’m fed up of rabbit food… seriously, I’ll probly die if I have only bananas and milk for an entire day… for all those who’ve actually completed this diet…. Kudos!!.. you must have amazing self control!!...as for me, all I want is the simple things in life… like a good meal… and a full stomach… and chocolates!! :) …. Ok.. I gottago… my strawberry and chocolate milkshake beckons!! … :) :) :)

Have you noticed how the silliest of things can have a person in splits, while more genuinely funny incidents are greeted by an expression most resembling a stuffed fish? What tickles each person’s funny bone remains one of the world’s greatest unsolved mysteries. The medium of the joke can also shift its position in the humour scale, or at least affect the responses. I for one tend to laugh out loud a lot more during conversations, even for the stupidest of PJs. In print though, even the funniest of cartoons like Calvin, and the undoubted master of wit Wodehouse himself, only manages to elicit a small smile and an occasional ‘heh’ for the outrageously hilarious bits. Its not that I think they’re not amusing- far from it really. While reading, or even watching a funny movie, I’m roaring with laughter inside my head, while wearing a silly smile on my otherwise impassive face. If I happen to discuss either with someone else though, I end up laughing till my sides ache. It’s a rum thing. There are others though, like my mum, who goes into fits of unstoppable giggles every time she reads and re-reads a Wodehouse. She then insists on regaling us with an excerpt, lavishly interspersed with sudden outbursts of red faced laughs, while tears stream down her face.

Then there are those who laugh for no perceivable reason at all, usually attributed to some remembrance of an old joke, a distant association with a humorous incident, or strains of insanity! The probability of this occurring increases tenfold when you’re with a friend who’s as silly (or more so) as you are. Of late, my hysterical friend and I have been spending a considerable portion of our waking hours laughing maniacally like a couple of kooky hyenas. This is fine if we happen to be at home, or some random place where nobody knows us. We just happened to pick the worst possible place for a fit of giggles- a quiet lab in IIT madras, chock-full of geniuses and prodigies, serious iitians, and brilliant interns – all of whom have mammoth brains and eccentric characteristics. The latter is usually the cause of our frequent outbursts, which draws every bespectacled eye to us, while we try to make ourselves invisible. After a disapproving frown and a glare, they return their attentions to their algorithms and security proofs, while we rush outside so we can laugh unrestrainedly. During lunch again, my friend randomly begins laughing hysterically for absolutely no reason at all, her laugh being very infectious, I join her, while our other friends look on perplexedly wondering what they’d done to trigger such an outburst, .. and delicately edging themselves and their plates as far away from us as possible. The worst ever episode of our laugh-a-thon occurred a couple of days back, while returning to the lab after lunch. We were in high spirits, and got into the elevator along with four strangers. One of them was a weird looking female, who once began making the funniest of faces at a guy- who was pointedly ignoring her. I studiously kept my head down, as my lips curved into an involuntary smile. From behind me, I heard two loud snorts of laughter, and fought even more to keep a straight face as everyone turned to look at my now purple-in-the-face friend. The moment the lift doors slid open, we shot out,- walking determinedly toward the lab, I turned around, and found that my stupid friend had vanished. I walked back looking for her, and saw her hiding in a little alcove, half crouching, collapsing with mirth, and clinging on to the wall for support! Not surprisingly, it took about half a second before I dissolved into laughter as well. Into this scene of cheer walked two of the guys from the elevator, took one look at us, and ran for their lives. This of course was reason enough for a fresh outburst from the two of us. Finally, clutching our sides, and wheezing painfully, we walked back.. and who do we see, but the same kook of a girl again. Words fail me, too many tears dripping down my face onto my poor lappie.

Its not the destination, but the journey that counts, and is usually more eventful.. not to mention nerve wracking. This is especially true if the journey in question is a two-way one hour plus tortuous commute from one end of the city to another, in a crowded bus in the sweltering heat of Chennai. I emerge from these journeys disheveled, breathless and with a sense of blessed relief. The MTCs are a boon to all those, like my friend and i, who rely on public transport for long distances cause we’re too chicken to drive ourselves. A well-oiled system is in existence, with plenty of buses, most of them pretty decent- and best of all, the answer to all our prayers, the deluxe air conditioned bus. Deliciously cool, tinted windows to ward off the evil rays of le sol, comfy seats, super fast and barely any crowd at all, they are a joy to travel in! So, problem solved you may say… not quite. Life has an uncanny knack of knowing how to throw in a spanner and bung up the works. These buses are supposedly perfectly timed,. And in fact were a couple of months back. Lately however, we don’t seem to be able to so much as sniff a deluxe bus, in spite of running till we had stitches down our sides so that we could get to the stop on “time” for the elusive vehicle.

And hence, we get stuck with the ordinary ones.. muggy, scorching heat and copious amounts of fine dust pouring in through the large windows, icky-sweaty crowds, jostling each other with great gusto, reckless guys hanging precariously from the footboard, their only safeguard being a one-handed grip on a window bar, grouchy drivers and cantankerous conductors. The worst to have to put up with when we get a seat, is the bundles of unwieldy packages that are shoved onto our laps by the more unlucky lot. Once in a while though, when we’ve waited and waited for ages at the stop, rejecting every bus that looks rundown or has any standing passengers, we give up and decide to board the very next bus that comes by. The upshot?- a miserable hour spent standing in a bus driven by a maniac who loves swerving wildly, while we get tossed around like a sack of potatoes. In some buses we’re saved the bother of trying to maintain balance, as all of us are packed tightly together like a tin of sardines! A solid tangle of arms faces and legs, fighting tooth and nail for breathing space, while trying (in vain) to put in as much distance as possible between our noses and the various smelly armpits in the vicinity.

All said and done, these buses can be very amusing – if you’re not being squashed to a pulp that is. It’s the perfect place to watch the idiosyncrasies of various people in action. A fussy mother berating her bratty children for the ruckus they caused, two old maamis discussing in loving detail their new gold earrings, a couple of schools kids studying furiously, a ‘business’man bellowing in ‘yingilish’ into his shiny phone, a wailing baby being bounced up and down by a harassed looking dad, a bunch of college students spouting pjs and laughing raucously , a young woman powdering her nose and arranging her bouquet of mallipoo with great care and concentration, well aware of the attention she is garnering from a sunglass sporting, lurid pink toting guy, ogling openly, and topped off by a conductor yelling at anyone who dint have their exact change ready within 2 seconds of their having boarded the bus.. Little wonder then that we spend quite a bit of time giggling stupidly, trying desperately to hide our snorts of laughter behind hankies, bags or cellphones (!), while the rest of the bus glare suspiciously at us! J

Well, its finally over.. not that I spent too much time poring over ridiculously long wordlists and endless piles of practice tests.. but the two weeks that I spent on GRE prep were probably the longest ones of my life. my partner in crime and I raced thru the wordlists, and actually managed to finish all of them within a week. I know not how., in spite of spending a lot of time in IIT as well.. it seems like all our spare moments were devoted to feverishly writing down weirdish words, moaning over annoying ones like venal, venial, ventral.. condign, consign, conflate, contumacious and the like... puzzling out ways to remember wacko words like legerdemain, mulct, promulgate and lien. We discussed and quizzed each other while walking to and from lunch ,.. over plates of hot chapattis , while waiting for a bus, and even in the bus- while other passengers gave us strange looks...

The next week of my life seems like it revolved entirely around practice tests- from Barrons' book, Princeton and lyceum material, Barrons' and ETS' practice cd, and a ragtag of online tests from random websites. With each and every test I ended up with widely varying scores.. some sending me into transports of delight, and resulting in me bounding all around the house with unstinted glee, while others reduced me to a messy puddle of tears ... A crazy fortnight indeed.. culminating in an afternoon fraught with tension and nail-biting suspense.. The test being scheduled for one in the afternoon, we got there by 12.30 and waited with shaking hands and trembling voices for us to be called in. Time wore on, without any signs of a summons.. each second increasing my desire to puke my guts out.. after an hour of forced meditation, and desparate attempts to calm my mind, I was summoned to the pit of doooom!

Oh well, what more is there to be said.. I walked through the raging fire and came out unscathed - unless you count a chipped nail and a bumped forehead! It was ok I suppose , anyway, the important thing to note is that I have survived the ordeal, and now have a week more of the holidays left to enjoy, without sharing the feeling of Damocles- of walking around with a sword hanging precariously over my head.

Whoever came up with the phrase ‘fun in the sun’ ought to be hung, drawn and quartered. Summer hasn’t even peaked yet, and already I’m fantasizing about showers of rain, thunderstorms, snow, hail, blizzards … anything’s better than the agonizing torture of being slowly fried to a crisp in the Chennai heat. Some of the typical symptoms of the i-hate-summer-and-wish-i-could-move-to-Alaska syndrome include-

Not being able to survive for more than ten mins without the ac……. Living primarily on gallons of super cold water, and tons of ice….. spending all your canteen money on ice creams and juice… actually drinkin the ‘recycled’ college water when u finally run out of cash ….. taking looong luxury baths- till your fingers and toes get all wrinkled …. And being willing to sell your soul for a tall glass of deliciously iced chocolate milkshake.

Sittin in the college bus, trying desperately to sleep while waves of hot and extremely dusty air blow into my face, mopping my brow every few seconds , and fanning myself in a futile attempt to reduce the perspiration, I remember a saying, ‘girls don’t sweat, they glow!’ , and smile bitterly as I watch half a busload conclusively disproving that statement! The heat also seems to have addled the already soft brains of college authorities, who’ve very smartly decided to make us write our end sem exams in the latter half of may- in the afternoons! Like we don’t have enough things to worry about.. now we have to include prayers for a seat under a fan, no power cuts, and long lasting deodorants!!! Take the recent semester practicals for example- our lab is supposed to be air conditioned, due to which, the windows can’t be opened, and there aren’t any fans. Unfortunately – and predictably- the AC conked out, leaving us with a terribly hot and stuffy lab in which to execute horribly tricky programs. Luckily for me, I was seated kinda close to one of the two rickety, revolving ground fans. So, every 12 seconds, I’d get a breath of reasonably cool air, before the fan turned away again. Not surprisingly, I spent more time counting down the seconds till the fan turned to me, than typing out hundreds of line of code. And then they wonder why very few people managed to get the outputs!!!.... so much for summer being the best season! Anyway, I shall leave now, im late for my hourly bath :) !

... my favourite author of all time would undisputably be pelham grenville Wodehouse. Born over a hundred and twenty years ago, he's written 18 musical comdies, and more than 90 hilaarious books.. his sense of humour and style of writing are truly unique. true, his stories are not gripping ... no lives are endangered every few seconds, no ghosts and ghouls and monsters of the night,. no gun fights and wars and stealthy murders.. no adventures in exotic lands,. no nail-biting suspense.... true, he does include a lot of romance,.. but his are not the type of books that you will sigh and get all moony-eyed over, nor will they reduce you to red-faced sobbing into a wad of tissues.. any tears that do well up will be a result of laughing too much!! .. wodehouse's books are the sort u can pick up at any leisure moment, .. the kind that will brighten the dullest of days and lighten the foulest of moods... his writings are generously laced with irony and effortless wit. his characters are described in exquisite detail,.. each with his/her own peculiarities in speech and manner.. your eyes cannot fail to light up and you'll find yourelf smiling as you read about their antics. irressitible as his books are to me, i find that relatively few in the city recognise his genius. most of my age-group think that the books are boring(?!!) and actually prefer (uggh!) Sidney Sheldon over him ! ah well.. to each their own i suppose..

Wodehouse has written a number of connected books, with similar old favourites... probably his best known characters are Bertie Wooster- affluent, too-helpful a nature, a strong magnet for trouble of any kind, who spends half his time trying to break off engagements with pretty girls intent on improving his mind...- and his good old faithful valet Jeeves,- calm, serene, extremely critical about bertie's wardrobe, super-efficient, with a huge brain (that bertie attributes to fish! ) that provides a solution to every possible predicament, and buckets of the ol' feudal spirit.... some of the best wooster books are "what ho jeeves", "thank you jeeves" , "joy in the morning" ....Another set of favourites are the inahbitants of the spectacularly beautiful Blanding's - owned by the lord Emsworth- a wooly-brained, genial old man, who's life's joy is pottering among his flowers, his prized pig 'the empress of blandings' , and his constant war with his head gardner Angus mcAllister.... his sister Lady Constance- stern and frosty, constantly exasperated by Emsworth's woolly-headedness,.... Sir Gallahad the eternal knight in shining armour, the stately butler Beach, Freddie Threepwood, and the motley crowd of guests always at Blandings. the stories at Balndings usually involve several attempted roberies- diamonds, pigs,- anything thats not nailed down!!, separated young lovers, broken hearts, hilarious schemes, and several false identities.... another favourite is Psmith ( i quote- "the p is silent , as in phthisis, pshrimp and ptharmigan" !!)... the perfect gentleman, and with the most absurd and yet endearing manner of speech.. and best of all is "leave it to Psmith", where wodehouse packs both psmith and blandings castle , resulting in one of the most entertaining fiascos ! :)

apart from these, there are several other hilarious characters, such as monty bodkins, bingo little, uncle fred, sally, urkridge and the rest... wodehouse also writes several stories set in america. he describes in gory detail the life in a motion pictures company, the gang wars, the street fights, the boxing matches,.. in a supremely light-hearted tone.oh well.. i could go on and on about his characters.. but, is shouldn't bore you.. for those who've read his work... well you know all about them yourself ,comrades... and for those who havent yet experienced the delight of listening in to the conversation of 'eggs, beans and crumpets' .. or who've never read an account of jeeves' opinion on bertie's purple socks... all i can say is- hop on board, and learn to look at life funny side up!.. life's not meant to be taken all that seriously... after all.. as the genius himself said - "life's a rum thing.. a rum thing inded!! " :):)

well, ive been blogging for about a year and a half now... on minglebox though. Was pretty happy with it for a while, but it has such a limited network.. ive been toying with the idea of creating a blog here, but kept putting it off cause i havent had much time.. but today, ive finally done it.. so, yay me! :) grin.. anyway, here goes . here's hoping i remember to keep blogging!!

cheers
tulasi