“Shifting the buck” – Don’t we all simply love doing that? “Who broke those glass plates? Who scattered these books on the bed?” One thing is for sure : The answer is definitely not “It was me”. Even if your conscience cuts you to the quick ,makes your head whirl , makes your heart wrench sporadically, that’s something you would never want to admit.
Blame it on your classmates. Blame it on your stars. Well, scapegoats are a tad too rife in this wide wide world. How funny and how very ironical!
Blaming is an art and I know a lot of people who have mastered this art to perfection. You ask them why something went wrong and they will leave you flabbergasted as they start reeling off a whole barrage of events starting from why the dogs in their colony cant stop barking , why the dashed monk sold his Ferrari , why Britney Spears thinks she can sing , why T.R still thinks he can act.. to why men are from Mars and women, from Venus. And at the end of the rhythmically presented saga you wrack your brains trying to figure out what exactly you asked them and why you asked them at all! Talk about sequential blaming.
There is an old joke about a man who always came late to office. One day , fed up with his stereotypical excuses, his boss demanded an explanation. The guy simply said : “Its scorching hot outside , infact so hot that the asphalt in the road expanded ,hence increasing the distance between my home and office,that’s why I’m late.” Lame excuse. Lame joke. Don’t blame me if that was’nt funny – I picked it up from a moth ridden Reader’s Digest edition!!
There are a zillion factors that trigger the blame nerve. Primarily, it spurts out because you want to shirk responsibility and cozy up in your couch instead, to swell up with rage and agony over the footages of some Bollywood actress being called a dog in a logic defying reality show or maybe cry a thousand rivers over a bunch of outrageous soap operas.
I’m not going to dig into the psyche of a “blamer” and dish out free remedies to leading a “blameless” life. I’m not Norman Vincent Peale. (Right!That’s some confession!) . So whats the whole point in writing this nonsensical article? Well, time to pass the buck!!!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Saturday, March 8, 2008
The Day That Was'nt
It gives me a great sense of pleasure to introduce to the world,the most jobless idiot.Applause!Up goes the curtain!It's me,people.Yes,what would you call a person who misses her first ever college alumni day because she has ,well,..nothing else to do?
Heartbroken as she is,about not being able to make it to her college,her heartless friends choose to make things worse by calling her from the city and talkin about how good it feels to visit the place you studied in for four years and relive those glorious moments.My protoganist,is immediately transported to her college days where goof ups and Murphy ruled her life.Sherecalls the times she screwed up her practicals,because she fully understood and related with the philosophy of objectivism initiated by a certain Miss.Rand.She even went to the extentof flunking her written tests,because she,like John Galt and the rest of the intellectuals,was keen to figure out what would happen to the world if she stopped working or studying.But miraculously,the world did not seem to need her,as things were sailing smooth;A pang ofjolt hit her like a hurricane and twirled her back to her senses and the smart person thatshe is,she could clearly see that Ayn Rand wrote Fiction and not philosophy.If philosophy is fictious,then is fiction philosophic?But who the hell is John Galt?Ah!I could write a book someday!
She fondly remembers the time she spent with her friends in hostel,those enlightening conversations on almost everythingunder the sun..well, does this blog have censors?;) She is amazed at the insatiable appetite for good food(As opposed tofood at the hostel mess,which threw surprise bashes like cockroach noodles and spider lassi) she possessed back then-the ease with which she could slurp a bowl of soup,following it up with two full servings of starters and 5 kulchas,two dosas,threesubzis(One with a thick gravy,one dry and one with paneer),cashewnut pulao,hyderabadi biriyani,and end the humble meal withstrong filter coffee and butterscotch icecream and still be game enough to go on a wild shopping spree at RSPuram and settle for a sandwich and cappuccino with her bunch of friends at cafe coffee day in the evening.
She was someone with a penchant for movies-could watch korean movies without subtitles and preferred watching"When harry met sally" for the 52nd time,to attending a session on solid mechanics.She's known to be a notoriouscomperer,while doing the MoC in her department associations-has played mean jokes on chief guests by referringto "him" as "her" in every line of the chief guest introduction and grinning sheepishly when the "she" in question wasactually a "he".A lot such goof ups to her credit even earned her the wrath of her HoD,a slightly demented funny litttleguy who'd forgotten how to smile-he guffawed only when he was angry,and 8 out of ten times he guffawed at me.
Well,now she's at home,which is a prehistoric village founded ten thousand billion years ago and still houses dinosaurs,mammoths ,cavemen and george of the jungle.She should have been at her college now,catching up with old friendsbut she's pumped up about attending a meeting on the Union Budget(the closest she ever got to becoming seriousabout a career in Finance Management) and wondering if she should have gone to college instead-the place that gave hercartloads of fun,gave her a degree,a job,a life..Does'nt she have the required sense of gratitude to visit the place, and pay homage to the stalwarts who taught her,pay her tribute to the place that bore her for four years?Does this sound sarcastic?;)
Takes a bow.Curtains down..Applause!
Heartbroken as she is,about not being able to make it to her college,her heartless friends choose to make things worse by calling her from the city and talkin about how good it feels to visit the place you studied in for four years and relive those glorious moments.My protoganist,is immediately transported to her college days where goof ups and Murphy ruled her life.Sherecalls the times she screwed up her practicals,because she fully understood and related with the philosophy of objectivism initiated by a certain Miss.Rand.She even went to the extentof flunking her written tests,because she,like John Galt and the rest of the intellectuals,was keen to figure out what would happen to the world if she stopped working or studying.But miraculously,the world did not seem to need her,as things were sailing smooth;A pang ofjolt hit her like a hurricane and twirled her back to her senses and the smart person thatshe is,she could clearly see that Ayn Rand wrote Fiction and not philosophy.If philosophy is fictious,then is fiction philosophic?But who the hell is John Galt?Ah!I could write a book someday!
She fondly remembers the time she spent with her friends in hostel,those enlightening conversations on almost everythingunder the sun..well, does this blog have censors?;) She is amazed at the insatiable appetite for good food(As opposed tofood at the hostel mess,which threw surprise bashes like cockroach noodles and spider lassi) she possessed back then-the ease with which she could slurp a bowl of soup,following it up with two full servings of starters and 5 kulchas,two dosas,threesubzis(One with a thick gravy,one dry and one with paneer),cashewnut pulao,hyderabadi biriyani,and end the humble meal withstrong filter coffee and butterscotch icecream and still be game enough to go on a wild shopping spree at RSPuram and settle for a sandwich and cappuccino with her bunch of friends at cafe coffee day in the evening.
She was someone with a penchant for movies-could watch korean movies without subtitles and preferred watching"When harry met sally" for the 52nd time,to attending a session on solid mechanics.She's known to be a notoriouscomperer,while doing the MoC in her department associations-has played mean jokes on chief guests by referringto "him" as "her" in every line of the chief guest introduction and grinning sheepishly when the "she" in question wasactually a "he".A lot such goof ups to her credit even earned her the wrath of her HoD,a slightly demented funny litttleguy who'd forgotten how to smile-he guffawed only when he was angry,and 8 out of ten times he guffawed at me.
Well,now she's at home,which is a prehistoric village founded ten thousand billion years ago and still houses dinosaurs,mammoths ,cavemen and george of the jungle.She should have been at her college now,catching up with old friendsbut she's pumped up about attending a meeting on the Union Budget(the closest she ever got to becoming seriousabout a career in Finance Management) and wondering if she should have gone to college instead-the place that gave hercartloads of fun,gave her a degree,a job,a life..Does'nt she have the required sense of gratitude to visit the place, and pay homage to the stalwarts who taught her,pay her tribute to the place that bore her for four years?Does this sound sarcastic?;)
Takes a bow.Curtains down..Applause!
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