Angel Dust and Bones

Vaipa Mix

2011-02-11T19:13:00.008+05:30

Vaipa Mix

Back in those days when we joyfully ran down Tlangnuam road after school got over we used to invariably pass by this old Bihari (?) guy who sold an assortment of "chanas" and "muris" by the roadside. He would mix them all together with some ingredients we never knew the names of and we called this concoction "Vaipa Mix". It was quite spicy and also quite delicious and often led to upset stomachs but we were kids and at that age what did one care about upset tummies! Some naughtier guys used to grab stuff from his cart and not pay him but he never dared utter a single word in fear of harsher treatment. Wonder what became of him..

The Facebook

The other day I did a quick mental survey and found out that 90% of the people I know who are roughly in their 30s and below have a Facebook account. Facebook is everywhere and I'm pretty sure that the word 'facebook' pops up almost invariably in any sort of casual conversation. Even my cousin who as far as I know doesn't even know how to open internet explorer asked me the other day if "facebook was a good thing". Well even my dad once asked me which one I thought was better - "Google or Bookface?". Did Mark Zuckerburg ever envisage that FB (as it is now referred to by my friends) would grow into the behemoth that it now has become? Let me add him and find out! He originally called it "The Facebook". People who've watched that movie about FB will know.

Musicatto

Music is awesome. Especially sad songs. I find myself listening to sad songs a lot even though I'm not necessarily sad. Maybe it's because they seem to come straight from the heart of the songwriter. It's also sometimes easier to identify with sad songs. I mean if Thom Yorke wrote a song about how exciting it is to be in a band we wouldn't really identify with it but he wrote about heartache and loss we are right there with him on the same page. It also slightly saddens me or maybe I should be glad that there are so many awesome songs and bands out there waiting to be discovered by me but even if I live my life thrice over I'll never get to listen to them all. Musicatto was one of the first reasonably well stocked music stores in Aizawl. It was in that building near Canteen Kual. I used to go there after school with Osbourne and Albert to just look at what they were selling. I bought my first Faith No More cassette from here. I still have the cassette.. the store however is long gone.Osbourne too has now left us to play that great gig in the sky. No idea what Albert's upto nowadays.

Never judge a book by its movie

The other day I was telling a friend how much I missed curling up at night with an exciting book and reading it from the beginning to end at one go. While the internet has been mostly useful I also blame the internet for taking away my "bookworm time". Yea pathetic excuse I know. I have three books lying unfinished. One of them is Gabriel García Márquez's Love in the time of Cholera. This guy doesn't do 'easy reading'. I think I'll have to make do with watching the movie based on the novel. Reminds me of a joke - Guy takes his dog watch a movie. Friend was surprised and asked him if the dog liked going to the movies. Guy says.."Well he thought it was okay but he liked the book better". I still love the look and feel of an old dog-eared musty smelling book. I bought an old second hand edition of Great Expectations just because I liked the way it was bound and the way it smelt. Book lovers of the world unite!

Love will tear me apart

2011-01-19T14:00:00.008+05:30

It's not easy being an eligible 30+ lad with excellent marital prospects. Every move I make is closely scrutinized by hopeful young belles and their match-making mammas. If I speak so much as a couple of sentences to a girl, I have to contend with that gleam of hope and acquisitiveness in her eyes and that could get very unsettling. And I hate to disappoint them so.

Who am I trying to kid? Im a single, lonely, teetering-on-the-hill man who has found to his chagrin that romance is not as forthcoming as it once was. Most of my old flames have gone and gotten married. Two of them even got married on the same day. Talk about double whammies. I've met girls who claim to like me, but when the crunch comes, Im still here- alone except for an aquarium with a few fish donated by well-meaning friends. Had a cat too but after a couple of nights sleeping with HIM, I felt uneasy so I gave him away to a little girl"

So what's wrong with me? Im a relatively nice guy with regular features. One girl even proclaimed that she loved my hooded "drunk-looking" eyes and my "nibble-able" lips. (check profile pic for proof of authenticity). Now I wonder, was it just physical, what that girl felt for me.

And there was I, standing on her doorstep with my heart in my hands. And thats the saddest part. I dont trifle with emotions like some guys do. I've been told that I should play hard-to-get to pique a girl's interest, but I don't want to do that. Im a simple guy. I like you, you like me, lets canoodle, and thats it. I don't understand the point of "I like you, I pursue you, you pretend not to like me, I pretend not to like you, you pursue me, you like me", by the end of which I'll be so confused by the whole rigmarole anyway that I'll probably end up liking your ex boyfriend and pretending not to like him.

Sometimes the errant thought gets into my head- is it because I'm half and half? I try to reject that line of thought because its unworthy of the few kind souls who have deigned to date me. But I do think about it- do some girls go, "Rootless, nomadic Hybridmos"? It's true in a way- but not in the way you'd think. My family moves around a lot and so, while i call Mizoram my home, technically I don't have a place that I could truly call home. Which is why I want someone that I could come home to, someone in whose homey embrace this "hunter, home from the hill" (chicks dig poetry) could lay his weary (and extremely embraceable) body down.

So here I am, a romantic failure. I've been told, "We don't do that in these here parts" when I tried to hold a girl's hand. Been given a chilly reception when I crossed the country to be with a girl. Been laughed at when I serenaded a girlfriend about to go home (Admittedly, the song was "I00 miles, a 100 miles, a 100 miles" but it was rendered very feelingly). Been told by a girl that her intuition tells her that I was subliminally pulling away from her and that I was just minorly infatuated with her. Chick-speak for "Leave me alone, el creepo!" :(

But it's okay. I've come to accept that the spirit of romance is dying out in the female species. And I'm alright (he's alright, he's allriiight). I just gotta get out of this prison cell, and one day I'm gonna be free, Lord! I now leave you with this little song from Glee. Not that I watch it, being the He-man type. And not because girls will start to identify with me for referring to Glee (chicks dig Glee). But just because, well, just because. (He-man types dont explain themselves)

Wherever We May Roam

2010-12-21T02:00:00.023+05:30

Heavy metal band Metallica's hit song "Wherever I May Roam... where I lay my head is home.." might be quite an apt song to describe the change of residences I and my parents have undergone through the years. Of course one can only imagine how incongruous it would be to see my father belting out "Wherever I may roam.." from the pulpit.

As most of you might know my dad (and mom) are employed by the Mizoram Synod Presbyterian Church - the largest Christian denomination in Mizoram. This entailed that we shifted our places of residence quite frequently due to my father being sent hither and thither for higher studies and his various postings under the Synod. Since the time I was born we have moved house at least SIXTEEN times. That's sixteen times in approximately 30 years! Most of you would not move house even once in your whole lifetime.

The obvious advantages of moving house often is that I'm not stuck with the same silly view from my bedroom for my whole life. I mean having to wake up every morning and having to see that stupid silly Reiek mountain for the rest of my life could be so very boring! Jokes apart it was a good way to make new friends and see new places at the expense of people contributing 1/10th of their income to the church. (Keep that 1/10th coming in folks!). It also enabled us to receive decent education outside Mizoram, something which many middle class families could not afford in those days. In the early nineties the only kids from Mizoram who could afford to study in Bangalore were those whose dads were doctors or engineers or related to a politician! We also got to live in relatively nice houses provided to my Dad by the Synod.

The other side of the coin is that I had to keep making new friends and I kept losing track of the friends I'd made. Sometimes I'm slightly envious of my friends who talk about their childhood friends with whom they grew up next door to each other their whole life. And when one keeps moving we don't have long lasting memories of the places we've lived in. And last but not the least the most annoying thing is the packing/unpacking/repacking of stuff that we need to shift from one place to another. I'm quite an expert now in packing 12 piece dinner sets so that even if dropped from 10 feet high they wouldn't break.

Anyway early this December my father was sent packing (pun intended) from his post as the principal of the Aizawl Theological College to Nagpur to take charge of his new post as the General Secretary of the NCCI (A Christian Organization). So poor old me and my creaking bones had to make the trip home from Bangalore to Aizawl to help out and help out I did! For proof check pic below -

We sent some of our stuff via plane from Aizawl to Calcutta via air and I had to go to Lengpui Airport and coax and cajole the Air India cargo staff in allowing us to send all our suspicious looking parcels via the Air India flight to Calcutta. Exciting stuff! My brother took charge of the consignment in Calcutta and sent it on its merry way via truck to Nagpur. We're thinking of starting a new business as movers and packers. The less said of the the journey from Aizawl to Nagpur the better it will be. Tempers get frayed when your total luggage weight exceeds the allowed luggage limit on the plane by 200 kgs!! Luckily we met (a) few friends at Lengpui Airport who helped us out in weighing our luggage with theirs. Hey DDB Thanks!

As I'd mentioned before the quarters provided to us are usually quite lovely and the place in Nagpur was no different so the soothing environment of the General Secretary's quarters helped in easing our minds so much so that my brother promptly decided to quit his job in Calcutta and move to Nagpur. It even has a bloody lotus pond complete with fishes in the frontyard. Groovy!

Pic below of House and Pond with my niece and her new found friends (Remember what I said about making new friends!)

The day we moved into the new place my dad told us with a smile on his face that we probably shouldn't bother unpacking since the NCCI office would be shifted from Nagpur to Delhi in 2013...

Unrelated Note: I changed over to the new blogger profile and it has totally messed up the fonts . Google, I am disappoint! (Yes Google owns blogger in case anyone didn't know)
Unrelated Note 2: Figured it out. The editor needed to be upgraded. I love you Google!.

Meizial Meizial Meizial!

2010-08-14T05:55:00.005+05:30

Meizial ka zuk hmasak ber tum chu 1993 vel kha ni ta in ka hria, ka cousin in a zuk lai min fawh tir ve zuai a, pa ka in ti ve lutuk . Khatih lai khan pawl riat ka zir mek a mahse high school leh college ka kal lai kha chuan zu lo ang tluk ka ni in ka hria. High school kal lai chhung zawng kha chuan a belhkahwmin bawm hnih vel ka zuk ka ring.

College kal lai khan kar khatah tlawn 10 vel hi ka zu ve chauh maithei. 2003 khan hna ka thawk ve tan a , pawisa te kan lo hlawh chhuah ve vang te pawh niang ka zu hnem ta angrem khawp mai a. Rilru hah vang em em pawh a ni lo, thian ten an zuk vanga zu ve pawh ka ni chuang lo meizial zuk hi a nuam ka lo ti ve hrim hrim ti ila a dik ber awm e.

Hun rei lo te chhung khan nikhata tlawn 2 vel zu thin kha tlawn 10 ah ka kai chho ta thut ta a. 2007 thleng a ka zuk ber thin Wills Navy Cut kha 1995 a ka pocket money a ka lei hmasak ber khan bawm khat (10 awmna) hi cheng 12 ni ta in ka hria. Taksa pawn a tuar tan ta reng bawk a – chawlh hmanga Aizawl a ka haw chang te hian step a kal te kha ka harsat a thawk te hi a hah hma thei thin khawp mai. 2007 khan Wills Classic Milds ka zu tan ta a, packet khat (20s pack) hi Cheng 94 an chhiar a thla khatah hian cigarette man ringawtah cheng 2800 vel ka seng ang .

Ka sum hmanral atang ringawt pawh hian meizuk bansan tumna rilru lian tak chu nei tawh tur chu ka nia mahse bansan tawp hi a lo har em ani. Chawi ei kham te hian zuk hi a nuam em a , a bikin vawksa hmeh zawh a chaw ei khama kuhva hring thial suah suah pah a han zuk heuh heuh hi chu a van han nuam tak em.

Tihtur neih loh chang a in a awm mai mai TV/Movie en lai te hian meizial hi ka ban reng bawk. Vawi 3 vel chu bansan ka tum tawh a. A aiah sweet/bubblegum te ei kan tum a mahse a daih rei tak tak lo. Sap hovina “cold turkey” method an tih mai anga quit hi chu a lo har ngang mai. (Cold turkey quit chu vawilehkhata thil tih thin tih tawp thut) .

Nicotine patch hi hmang ve chhin ila a tha angem te ka tia mahse vawikhat chu Bangalore a medical dawr lian ve deuh ah hian Nicotine patch an neih leh neih loh ka zawt , a zuartupa pakhatin kan nei lo , chu chu enge , condom ami te ti mai mai sia ka buaipui zui ta em em rih lo.

Tichuan 2010 kumthar ni atang vel khan engtin tin mawni ka nghei ve tan a mahse nghei han tih ah Monday to Friday hi ka zu lova mahse weekend hi chuan ka insum zo ngang lova ka zu leh ta nge nge thin. Tiang khan thla thum erh awrh chu ka ti chhova mahse hun a lo kal zela thil hrang hrang vangten rilru hah chang a lo awm khan weekday zuk loh te kha ka thei ta ngang lova a ngai te in regular tak chuan hei ka lo zu leh chu a ni ta mai sia!

Kum lamah te pawh kan lo upa ve deuh tawh a (han ti ve ringawt ila) nupui te pawh kan la nei duh anga, fa te pawh kan la nei duh ngei dawn sia meizial kan zuk reng chuan fa neih lamah te pawh buaina a thlen thei dawn tih hria in tunlai tak hian bansan duhna rilru lian tak ka pu ve tan tawh. Thian te pawh hian i zu hnem e min ti fova a zahthlak lamah a kal tawh chuvangchuan theihtawp chhuahin nghei kan tum ve tawh ange!

1-0 to the Arsenal (aka the laziest blogpost ever)

2010-08-11T17:36:00.013+05:30

Wash my 2008 Official Arsenal Home Jersey ✔
Download English Premier League Fixtures File ✔
Put up English Premier League Fixtures (EPL) Poster ✔
Pay Cable Fee ✔
Purchase sports mags with stories about previous EPL seasons ✔
Inform manager that I might suddenly fall sick during the weekends all throughout the year ✔
Update Facebook/Orkut profile pictures and profile names to reflect the fact I'm a hardcore Arsenal fan ✔

Yep my English Premier League checklist is complete. Now all I have to do is wait for the annual football extravaganza to begin. It kicks off next week on 21st Aug but Arsenal will start their campaign the next day with a tough trip to Anfield to play Liverpool. At one point I was half heartedly thinking if it would've been possible to fly to England but I looked up the prices of tickets and found out that unless I rob an ATM I wouldn't have enough money to make the trip. The other options were either swimming all the way or via ship both of which I don't have time for.

Anyway unless if you ain't been paying attention I have made it quite clear that I'm a huge Arsenal fan. Yes it was all because of Dennis Bergkamp and his exploits in the1998 World Cup. I was too young to remember the '89 English Premier League (or the English First Division as it was called then) but I like to pretend that I watched on tv Michael Thomas' last minute goal in the last game of the season against Liverpool which won the league for Arsenal (but I didn't).

Fast forward to the 2003/2004 EPL season and this time I was able to watch Arsenal's famous undefeated season when they didn't lose a single game and went on to clinch the EPL title for a third time under Arsene Wenger .

After those three wins the closest we have come to winning the league title again was missing out by 4 points in 2007/08. This season Arsene Wenger has continued as our Manager and with Fabregas ,Robin van Persie, Vermaelen, Nasri et al in the team we could very well get our hands on that EPL trophy again. Yes I'm aware that I've started using the word "we" because except for during the World Cup I support only Arsenal!

As talented as we are we don't have too many good looking chaps in our team so I don't think too many of the female sex will be supporting us. (Actually there might be one that I know of) . That honour always has belonged to the oh so handsome I'd turn gay for them at the drop of a hat Manchester United team . The most good looking chap in our team is Bacary Sagna and he looks like this -

Anyway enough about Cristiano Ronaldo who doesn't even play in the EPL anymore.. uh wait.. ok never mind. Enjoy your EPL Season and if you ain't a Gunner (aka Arsenal fan) then I hope your EPL season sucks!

You are my Arsenal
You are my Arsenal,
My only Arsenal,
You make me happy,
When skies are grey,
You'll never know just,
How much I love you,
So please don't take,
My Arsenal...Away

(Note: Regular readers of my blog (if there are any) will have noticed how much time and effort I put into my posts (very modest there, Amos) but this time around there is a possibility that my latest effort is a copy pasta! Sorry I don't have a lot of free time on my hands nowadays! The only free time I have, I spend on the internet looking at funny pictures of cats )

Adelante La Albiceleste!

2010-06-05T16:12:00.018+05:30

Wash my 2006 World Cup Official Argentina Jersey - ✔
Download World Cup Fixtures MS Excel File - ✔
Put up World Cup Fixtures Poster - ✔
Pay Cable Fee - ✔
Purchase sports magazines with stories about previous World Cups - ✔
Inform manager that I might suddenly fall sick during the weekdays - ✔ (If Argentina are playing a game on that day then it will be just a coincidence)
Update Facebook/Orkut profile pictures and profile names to reflect the fact I'm a hardcore Argentina fan - ✔

Yep my World Cup checklist is complete. Now all I have to do is wait for the quadrennial football extravaganza to begin. At one point I was half heartedly thinking if it would've been possible to fly to S.Africa but I looked up the prices of tickets and found out that unless I rob an ATM I wouldn't have enough money to make the trip. The other options were either swimming all the way or via ship both of which I don't have time for.

Anyway unless if you ain't been paying attention I have made it quite clear that I'm a huge Argentina fan. Yes it was all because of Maradona and his exploits in 1986. I was too young to remember the '86 World Cup but I like to pretend that I watched Maradona's Hand of God goal on television (but I didn't). What I remember clearly is the school notebooks sold in Aizawl which had Maradona and other famous football stars on the covers. I had quite a few of those back in the late 80s.

Fast forward to the 1990 World Cup and this time I was able to watch my first live World Cup football game which happened to be Argentina vs Cameroon but 'twas rather unfortunate that Argentina lost the game. However they made up for it by reaching the final where they lost to Der Germans.

After the 78 and 86 WC wins and the 90 final the closest we have come to winning the trophy again was reaching the Quarter Finals in 98 and 2006. This time around Diego Armando Maradona is our Manager and with Messi,Aguero, Higuain, Tevez, di Maria et al in the team we could very well get our hands on that golden trophy again. Yes I'm aware that I've started using the word "we"; during the World Cup I'm an Argentinian.

As talented as we are we don't have too many good looking chaps in our team so I don't think too many of the female sex will be supporting us. That honour always has belonged to the oh so handsome I'd turn gay for them at the drop of a hat Italians. The most good looking chap in our team is Carlos Tevez and he looks like this -

I could go on and on about those dreamy Italians.. oops I mean incredibly talented Argentinians but I need to go pray at the Church of Maradona. Yes there really is a Church of Maradona. Go enjoy your World Cup but if your favorite team is NOT Argentina then I hope your World Cup really sucks.

No tome mi cielo azul y blanco lejos de mí. Adelante La Albiceleste!

Note: La Albicelesete is the nickname of the Argentina football team. Literally translated it means "the blue and white skies" . Blue and White are the colours of the Argentina national flag. Adelante means Forward.
"No tome mi cielo azul y blanco lejos de mí " - Do not take my blue and white sky/skies away from me.
I just wanted to add something in Spanish to this post so that it would give me this whole Spanish vibe thing and girls will fall in love with me and all that. Sigh! :(

XXX

2010-05-04T00:13:00.022+05:30

When I first started writing this blog I mentioned that I already was starting to have writer's block .I was not kidding. I haven't updated my blog for seven months. Or maybe I'm too lazy to write. Probably laziness coupled with not being sufficiently inspired enough to blog. Tonight I found that I had no movies to watch and I'd just finished watching my football club being beaten(Aaaargh!) so I found time to spare before going to bed. What shall I blog about this time?

An obvious topic would be to blog about me turning thirty (Yay!) which happened last October. This must be one of the most common topics people would blog (brag?) about . Its an important milestone to have completed thirty years on this earth so this post will be a short review of how things have turned out now that three decades of my life have been completed.

Big thanks to the Man up in the sky for having given me good health, a loving family, a decent job etc. I have had a few close calls with death - so far I've almost drowned twice, met with a pretty nasty road accident while driving on my way back from work, inserted a stone in my nose and it fell down into my throat and I almost choked to death. Yes I really did that but this was when I was a kid. The last time I spent more than one night in a hospital was when I was born so basically I was a healthy enough baby/ toddler/ child/ teenager/ adult. Drinking Horlicks must've really helped although as promised on the carton it didn't make me grow 6 feet tall . I might sue them.

I don't think I really was a problem child for my parents. However there was that one time when my father discovered one of those erotic novels lent to me by a well meaning classmate . I'd hidden it behind a cupboard and my father stumbled on it while chasing a rat who led him to that treasure trove of erotica. I hate that rat. I had a tough time explaining that one. I think I said that the previous inhabitant must have left it there. The previous inhabitant of that room was a theology student so I don't think my dad believed me. Did okay in school and I was beaten by my teachers only once (as far as I can remember). High school was awesome but my college life was spent in Tamilnadu.....

On the romantic life front I have had my heart skewered , roasted and turned inside out (not literally) and I've also done my share of breaking hearts. (No I'm not proud of it.) Anyway enough about my love life already.

And then when one turns Thirty , we start getting asked the "When Are You Going To Get Married? Your Younger Brother Is Already Married And Has A Kid. Your Brother's Kid Is Going To Beat Up Your Kid.. HA HA HA " question pretty often. If I had saved a paisa for every time this question was asked to me in this exact format I'd have collected Rs. 342 already. (Yes I counted). The simple answer is "I Don't Know" (Ka Hre Lo!) . The oft repeated cliché that we men like to remain bachelors as long as possible doesn't really apply to me so when I feel that the conditions are right and that the planets are stars are aligned correctly I'll get married.

And as far as my career goes I'm glad to have a job that enables me to sit quietly behind the scenes and ~~chat with friends~~ do my work. There is a running joke on the popular FRIENDS tv show where no one knows what Chandler Bing's job is so similarly I bet that 99% of my friends do not know what I do . Anyone? Anyone? ... [Long Silence] Well, thanks for asking - I edit Microsoft's support and help websites for the UK and Ireland regions. It pays the bills and ~~enables me to travel to exotic places around the world and buy the latest cars~~ enables me to take economy class flights home and purchase a Honda Activa.

And as for extra-curricular activties - I can/could play any game (indoor or outdoor) but I never excelled in any sport which is why I'm working a desk job instead of playing as a striker for Arsenal Football Club. I also suck hard at playing carrom board. People have cried in despair watching me play. I can paint/draw a bit. I can sing a bit. Yes I can. I can write poems . Yes I can. I suck at card games. The only card game I'm good at is playing Solitaire on my laptop. 145 games won in a row. Yeaaaaah!! Books are the only extra curricular activity I excel at. It's easy to beat a book 'cause you can carry it into the loo and finish off reading a book. I also excel at watching movies. I must have watched at least 90% of the movies on IMdB's (the most popular movie website) top 250 movies list. Great achievement!

Usually these kind of posts end with some kind of sage philosophical/practical advice that the author will impart to his/her readers. I have none uh... okay maybe one : Do not insert stones into your nose. They hurt like hell and will probably kill you.

However (kinda out of the blue) I would like to take this opportunity to make a public service announcement. Please take care to preserve our fragile ecology and environment. Do your bit by not using plastic shopping bags in stores and take more showers together (only for married couples) to save water. I will end with one of my favourite quotes. This is a Carl Sagan quote which he made in reference to a photograph of Earth suspended in space.

From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here, that's home, that's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.
The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

God Bless.

(PS: Why is the title of this blog "XXX"? - well, duh XXX denotes the number 30 using the Roman numeric system.)

Chinese Whispers

2009-09-29T23:33:00.029+05:30

Chinese Whispers - A Short One-Act Play

Cast of Characters:

Mary - Woman

Jane - Another Woman

Time and Place:

Any Place , Any Time

Mary: OMG Jane Did you know that..but I really can't tell you..

Jane: No Jane tell me ..

Mary: I've got some HOT news. I promised to keep it a secret but I'll tell only you and you must promise not to tell anyone else. That totally hot guy from Mizoram Kima is dating Bipasha!

Jane: Kima hot? Hah..no way but that's really big news. How did you get to know?

Mary: Oh well my sister Susan heard it from her colleague Sanjana who overheard Annie and Preeti discussing it in the ladies room... it seems they saw it on some other girl's facebook status stating that she saw Kima patting Jennifer on her shoulder so its obvious that Kima is dating Bipasha!

---------------------------~the end~-------------------------------

Chinese Whispers is the name of a game we used to play when we were kids - We'd sit in a circle and one kid would whisper something to another kid to his right or left and the other kid would whisper what he/she was told to the next person and so on and by the time the whispers reached the last kid the original whisper would have been totally distorted. And that's exactly how rumours are spread in real life.

I have often been the victim of some really wild rumours but this one is my favourite - this happened a while ago and I won't mention any names. Sometime ago in 2005 I was at work and a friend of mine sends me a text message - (His girlfriend had recently dumped him and he was feeling rather blue) "I am at so and so lake.. I am going to jump in and I don't know how to swim. Goodbye". I got really worried and I immediately took an auto to that lake assuming that he was trying to kill himself. I searched for him (or his body) but there were no signs of him (or dead body).

To cut a long story short (TCALSS) it all ended well after I called up some friends and we went to his place and found him drunk and fast asleep . Two weeks later my mother and father call me up and my mother told me that someone told her that my girlfriend tried to commit suicide 'cause I dumped her ! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was so funny and at the same time infuriating that people spread this particular rumour. Anyway that story too also ended well after I explained everything.

Women seem to love gossiping and spreading unfounded rumours much more than men (but that's an universal truth so I won't elaborate on that.) It probably is encoded in their DNA or something. Some of it is harmless but a lot of it is malicious and can lead to a lot of people getting hurt and getting beaten up or being drowned in a pond with their body encased in a block of cement . Even if we know for sure that someone is hiding a dirty little secret it is best to keep it to oneself and not let the whole world know about it. Various religions consider gossiping and spreading rumours as a grave sin. Islam considers gossiping as bad as eating the flesh of your own brother and the Bible equates gossiping with murder!

I'm aware of only one instance when rumours and gossip ended up in something good coming out of it - someone spread a rumour that a guy I know and some girl were sleeping around. None of it was true and both parties were very embarassed about it. The funny thing was they didn't even know each other . So one day they met up to clear up this rumour and TCALSS they ended up falling in love (and are still together after 3 years!). Now if only someone would start a similar rumour about Megan Fox and myself then maybe she'd want to meet up with me to clear up the situation and maybe things could happen...

Interlude/When You Are Old

2009-08-19T23:11:00.016+05:30

A short break from "heavy duty blogging" -

Robert Frost's Stopping by Woods.. used to be my favourite poem. Now I've found a new favourite poem. Sorry Frosty. This one's called When You Are Old and was written by William Butler Yeats. I'm not big on poems especially abstract ones and this one is pretty straightforward as far as I can tell but if you were to google it you'll find that its about "rich mythical imagery" and "an abstract image issuing from a more concrete description of loneliness and regret". Big words flummox me :). Let me enjoy the poem for what I feel it portrays. Love -

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Such a sad and beautiful poem .

Note: The 'imagery' in this blog entry was provided by U J-i .My constant pestering of her to take a picture of an old Mizo lady inspired her to blog about it :). You can go read about it on her blog -

http://calliopes-canticles.blogspot.com/2009/08/whose-perspective-is-it-anyway.html

A poorly written diary chronicling the events of my visit home to Aizawl

2009-08-04T23:37:00.022+05:30

July 1:- "Meru City Taxi" arrives at 4 am to pick me up. Try to make eye contact with some pretty airhostesses at airport . Fail terribly. Tried same thing inside aeroplane - same results.

Make it in time for my Calcutta-Aizawl flight. Heavy cloud cover over Lengpui Airport . After about 40 minutes of trying to land and avoiding hills our pilot decides that he isn't highly paid enough to risk landing in this miserable weather and we fly back to Calcutta. When we land in Calcutta the fat Marwadi looking guy in front of me asks the air hostess if we've landed in Aizawl. Giggles all around. First time I've had a Cal-Azl flight cancelled. To top it all off I fall sick. Fever.

July 2 :- We try again. Great Success. I send a text message to a friend "The Eagle Has Landed". Friend don't care too much for Eagles I guess. No acknowledgment. Shop at the veg/fruit market on the Lengpui-Azl road. It looks like this - (pic credit: Xaia @ misual.com)

Reach home. Happy reunion with mom/niece/sis-in-law/pet cat,dog etc. Dad had actually left for Cal the same day in the same plane I'd landed in.

July 3: I visit friends; Fever worsens. Great way to start a holiday.(It wasn't actually great. It was terrible. This statement is an example of "sarcasm")

July 4: It being a Saturday I lie in bed all day and half of the night when I decide that enough is enough and the whole family drives to Durtlang Hospital. My doctor friend Chhana sticks some needles into me and decides that it isn't malaria. Whew. Instructs me to pop some funny looking pills.

July 5: Have completely recovered now. Attend church. Fell asleep. Must've been the pills I was prescribed. At night I attend the college chapel service. Notice a misprint in the hymn book "Take my hands and let them sing" . I giggle alone.

July 6: Did absolutely nothing.

July 7: I visit the Mizoram Public Service Commission Office. A friend's mother is the Chair(wo)man of the MPSC. Didn't see her. Sucks.Pic below of the office. MPSC Office.

July 8: I visit the SBI branch at Bawngkawn. Bank teller actually complies with my request without any hassles. Surprise Surprise.

July 9: Due to restrictions placed on me by the Presbyterian Church of Mizoram I cannot reveal what I did on 9th July.

July 10: A friend's daughter thinks I look like a "white foreigner". Guess she hasn't seen too many white foreigners and is also colour blind. I also re-pot* some plants. Fascinating.(Yes correct, this too is an example of Sarcasm. You guys are paying attention. I'm pleased).*(How to re-pot a plant)

July 11: I attend birthday of Family friend. Am asked 387 times "When did you arrive/When are you going back?"; I smile politely and poke them in the eye.

July 12: Church. Didn't fall asleep. Preacher makes some good jokes. I like him. Pic Below of Preacher cracking jokes. You can't see him . But he was cracking. Jokes.

July 13: I take my dog to the vet. Dogs are unbelievably obedient at the vet. Little did I know it would turn out to be the "Take your dog to the vet week".

July 14: I take my dog to the vet. Someone actually apparently brought a pet tiger cub to the vet. I see its face and I think it looks more like a wildcat with its face painted to look like a tiger cub.

July 15: I take my dog to the vet. Someone has brought a cat that weighed 7 kgs. Poor cat sits in the corner all the while looking absolutely pissed with itself. A guy suggests that his dog fight with my dog. His dog has a patch over its eye and a tattoo on its butt. I decline the offer.

July 16:I take my dog to the vet. A dog decides that it doesn't want to get an injection. Runs away. Owner chases. Hilarity ensues.

July 17: I take my dog to the vet. I cry a little. He barks a little . After a week of doing stuff together we've become really close. We promise to write to each other. It rains in the afternoon. Pic below was taken while it was raining. You can't see the rain but it was raining. Buckets.

July 18: Due to unforseen reasons I am unable to fly to Calcutta. Seeing my niece again makes up for it.

July 19: A push - a gangsta style handshake - a tiny goodbye.

July 20: Back in Bangalore. I open up Cleartrip.com ; start planning next trip home.

Did Humpty Dumpty Really Fall Off a Wall?

2009-06-09T01:15:00.019+05:30

Alright kids lets go way back to our school days.. no not the days of high school and middle school. Most people if you asked them would say that they had the most fun when they were in high school or middle school. Pfft.. so cliched. I want to take you way back to the days when you were just starting school. I'm talking about the period from Kindergarten to Class 2 or 3 - The most important time of our lives. This is where we first learnt the three R's - Reading, Writing and Arithmetic. (technically that should be "where we first learnt R,W and A.. confused the hell out of me when I was a kid but the key is in how you pronounce the words! I can see some of you now finally understand why they were called the Three R's)

For today's lesson we will be concentrating on Reading only. I'd want your rapt attention and pin drop silence. Reading first consisted of learning to read the Alphabets and numbers. Yeah the famous Alphabet song. Easiest lyrics ever! Lets skip a few chapters and proceed to the main part - Nursery Rhymes. I always loved reciting nursery rhymes. I probably have this hidden talent as a poet in me but I nowadays produce poems which are often laughed at.

For me the saddest nursery rhyme goes like this -

Rock-a-bye-baby On the treetop
When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall
And down will come baby
Cradle and all

I used to feel so sad for the poor little baby who fell from the tree. I used to think to myself "Oh Why did that bough break?" . I remember asking my mother if the baby died or not. Till date I have not been told the answer. Hope that baby lived or else I'll go into depression. Here is a picture which I've always had in my head about the little baby:

Enough of tragedy in nursery rhymes? No actually not - we're now going to have a look at Poor Little Humpty Dumpty who all the king's men couldn't put together again. You're thinking.."oh cute little rhyme" but like most nursery rhymes this one too has a bit of history attached to it. This website Indianchild.com tells us that Humpty Dumpty was actually the nickname of a cannon placed atop a church in England which subsequently fell down when the church was attacked during a battle. The English people liked the cannon so much they composed a rhyme in remembrance and it trickled down into our text books.

Another nursery rhyme associated with something more tragic than a stupid olde cannon is the also widely known -

Ring-a-Ring o'Rosies
A Pocket full of Posies
"A-tishoo! A-tishoo!"
We all fall Down!

This cute little rhyme is one associated with the Bubonic plague which.. er.. plagued Europe back in the olde days. The symptoms of this plague included a rosy red rash on the skin and violent sneezing and then people would fall sick and die. Try teaching that to the kids now!

Depressing stuff I know but brace yourselves for more depression - Baa Baa Black Sheep? Yep this too was not about some poor little black sheep and a boy. It was apparently about taxation where you were supposed to give a lot of your money in taxes to the king of England or something like that. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? Apparently back in the middle ages the sun came so close to the earth that the earth evaporated into nothingness and the only surviving man who happened to be on the moon at that time wrote this rhyme. I didn't make that up. It really happened.

Anyhow my clock has now struck one and my mouse has now run up the clock and I gotta run. If that statement vaguely reminds you of a nursery rhyme then you can all give yourselves a pat on the back.

(Quick Note - Someone asked in a previous post about the meaning of the title of my blog - Angel Dust and Bones : Angel Dust is the name of an album put out by one of my favourite rock bands - Faith No More; Dust n' Bones is the name of a Guns n' Roses song. Angel Dust is also the code name for a hallucinatory drug called PCP... and no PCP is not one of my favourite drugs . I hallucinate enough already without drugs.

Red Light Yellow Light Green Light - Go

2009-05-13T00:45:00.016+05:30

I'm fuming, I'm royally pissed. You might ask Why? Well today I was on my way to work and was waiting at a red light. There was this dude behind me on his bike who kept honking his horn telling me to run the red light. WTF! I let him pass and as he passes me he actually has the nerve to berate me for not letting him go through the red light ! I guess that's all that's needed to tell you about the behaviour of drivers in Bangalore -rude and have no clue about traffic rules. I was hoping I'd catch up with him at the next red light . I would have sat on his head and forcefully injected him with a dose of Swine Flu culture. Luckily for him he had long disappeared into the maze of auto rickshaws on the road.

And don't get me started on autorickshaws and their obnoxious drivers. Well actually you have - If you get into an accident involving an autorickshaw you are automatically always in the wrong regardless of the fact that the auto driver was driving while simultaneously ogling the girls in his back seat and had run through 3 red lights in the wrong direction and was also smoking an aromatic beedi . Try arguing with an auto driver - by the end of the argument he would have you convinced he was holier than Mother Teresa and Pope John Paul combined.

And then you have the green light honkers - they are a breed of drivers who will honk as soon as the red light turns green!! Forget the fact they are like 20 cars behind the green light and will have to wait for a little while before they can start moving. They will start honking like it was the Annual Car Horn Honking Festival. All one can do is give them the finger
..and then hope its not a gang of rowdies inside the car who will come out and beat you to pulp.

I myself have not been a saint either when it comes to following road rules. The other day I was late for work and I was in a big hurry.. I stopped at a red light but there were no vehicles coming from the other direction. So I looked around and ran thro' the light. As you'd have guessed a scooter suddenly came zooming in from out of nowhere. The driver was a middle aged guy and he screamed at me and called me an "Idiot..fool...mumble mumble..grumble.. ." I could not catch the rest of his curse words but I'm sure they must have not been very complimentary.

By contrast back home in Aizawl people are generally more careful drivers. Probably this has to with the winding and steep roads and people drive with more caution although there are certain exceptions to this rule. Also drivers are more polite and respect the rules of the road - I have a picture here taken on my last trip home. I was in a taxi down the steep and winding Durtlang road and there was a huge traffic jam and vehicles were lined up end to end down the road. The right lane meant for vehicles leading up was free but not a single vehicle broke the lane to overtake the other vehicle.

There is also another breed of drivers - the slow ones. They drive so slowly that if you are driving behind them you have time to get down from your vehicle ,check the tires, smoke a cigarette, update your blog and they'd still be only 2 feet away from you. Most of these drivers I've noticed are women drivers. And no don't get me started on women drivers. Seriously. And on that sexist note I shall now drive away into the sunset thro' these innumerable red lights that life throws at ya!

About A Girl

2009-04-16T23:34:00.015+05:30

Once upon a time when I was in the 10th Standard I had this huge, gigantic, massive, titanic, colossal crush on this girl in our class. She was the prettiest thing God had ever created (although prettier things came along later). The first serious crush I'd ever had. Once I thought she actually smiled at me but she was smiling at our Brother (Roman Catholic Priest) who was walking behind me. That was the only time I wished I'd been a Roman Catholic Priest - this was at a time when there were no jokes made about priests who misused Jesus' preaching about letting the little children come to him. She was so pretty that she made at least two girls change their sexuality.. and boys who had changed their sexuality to reverse their decisions (but not their sex change operations..sadly).

Anyway I really wanted this girl (whose name I cannot reveal) to know I had this huge, gigantic, massive, titanic, colossal crush for/on her . In those days email, mobile phones, orkut, facebook (the usual tools to woo a girl) had not been invented yet so sending her a love song every day was out of the question. The only tools that were available at my disposal were -
1.Keep staring at her and grin widely hoping to catch her attention (maybe she'd ask me if I was ill or something)
2.Make friends with her best friends and tell them that the only reason that I'm friends with you is so that I can get to your pretty friend.
3. Write her a letter.

Options 1 and 2 were discarded pretty quickly since they could result in unwanted results. So a letter it was to be. Got out my thick Mizoram Board of School Education prescribed Grammar Text Book. Turned over to the chapter on "Letter Writing". Started writing. For about two hours. The contents of that letter I can't really remember but one embarrassing cringe worthy line I still remember went something like this - "Please ask your mother if she will allow you to fall in love with me 'cuz mothers know best". Yep Cringeworthiness of the highest degree.

After writing the letter I decided to pimp it up a bit. Sprinkled talcum powder in it. Yep I did. Quite generously too. Sprayed it with my mother's costliest perfume. Added a dash of rose petals from the rose that I'd stolen from our neighbour's garden. Red. Enclosed the letter in a nice pink envelope . (Again stolen from my Dad's drawer). Left it on my study table . Had breakfast. Went to school. Realised after reaching school that I had forgotten the sweet smelling letter at home. [Gah! Insert commonly used swear words here!!]

I visualized my father going into my room checking to see if I had left any dirty magazines lying around (no not for his reading pleasure)... and finding my letter. When school got over I slowly trudged home and lo and behold Father had found the letter. He gave me a tongue lashing I'll never forget - "You should be concentrating on your studies.. Oh so this is why you have been ironing your trousers to a knife edged crease.. oh so this is why you have been using my cologne.. Oh this is why you've started shaving.. Oh this is why you keep listening to Boyzone and Backstreet Boys" and so on and so forth. My mother was amused though - she thought the rose petals were a nice touch. Don't remember whatever happened to that perfumed letter. Probably filed away by my Dad for future reference.

So "Pretty Girl" never received my labour of love. Her Loss. Not Mine. I never tried to get to her again. School got over pretty fast. Have never seen her again since 1995. Wonder where she is now. Probably married with three kids or something like that. Or maybe she's single and is on Orkut/Facebook now. Lemme go search.. for old time's sake.

Note: People who know me.. Please don't ask me who the girl is. Not telling. Please respect the privacy of this poor girl. :)

Hybrid Theory in Practice

2009-03-27T00:57:00.021+05:30

Inter racial relationships - ah now that's a topic that can always start up a fiery discussion or in this case - a blog. My former flatmate Sandman has written in detail about InterRacial Relationships - and it has been discussed ad infinitum,ad nauseaum and also generating lots of ad sense revenue too I expect.

I'm sure you're thinking everything that can be said about it has probably been said. Topic Closed.. right? Nope - what about us the products of those very relationships? The author of this blog (I am already referring to myself in the third person - signs of a good writer I'm told) too is one of those products and I shall venture forth in writing a lighthearted piece on this hitherto unexplored facet of inter-racial relationships. Any offence taken by you the readers will be met with a light hearted reply. :).

A little background information before I delve into the heart of the matter might be helpful. I'd be using Mizoram (a hotbed of inter racial marriages) as the backdrop for my ruminations. Now Mizoram is this peaceful little sleepy state in the North East region of India. Over here the localites (Mizos) are genetically bred to be antagonistic towards outsiders especially the ones from the plain areas of India and are referred to as "vais". (There is a long story to be told here as to the "whys" but lets save that for later).

Now over to the mid 1970s which is when my father who is from Bombay and my mother who is from Aizawl (the capital of Mizoram) met in Secunderabad where they were studying theology. They ran around some trees, flowers bloomed, brothers vowed revenge and in October 1979 I was born in Aizawl,Mizoram (to cut a very long story short). I was given the very non vai sounding name of Amos Lalremtluanga ; I used to hate having my name start with the letter A. I was always roll number 1 or 2 in school. Always a target of teachers to pick on when asking questions " Roll Number 1 - what is 30 plus 29 " .. (spare a thought for my brother Abel who was ALWAYS roll number 1 unless there was a Abdul in his class and in Mizoram that was pretty much unlikely).

Anyway times rolled by and for all intents and purposes and in mind body and soul I grew up as a normal Mizo kid - hunting lizards, climbing trees and falling down from them, stealing gear knobs from Jeeps to use as marbles, licking battery acid from those very Jeeps. But physically I didn't look like a normal Mizo boy. My nose was long. My eyelids were hooded (Yep I've never been called a chinky..dunno whether I should be sad or happy). Slowly I became aware of the Vai/Mizo divide when I got teased by other kids for being a Vai. When you are a kid you don't feel Vai or Mizo or Japanese - you are just a kid so these things probably didn't bother me much cause I don't remember ever taking offense or running to my parents and crying in their arms.

So in a nutshell I never really had any racial issues to face as a kid. I infact was called a "sap" (a fair skinned foreigner) once but in Mizoram "saps" are placed on a higher pedestal than vais and are highly desired as bridegrooms. I studied in Mizoram till the fifth standard and then our family moved down to Bangalore for three years and then came back to Aizawl and that's when the fun really started. Now this time I now looked really vai - no chances of me being called a sap now. My hair was curly, i was dark skinned (the hot summers in Bangalore took their toll) and my nose put Julius Caesar's nose to shame.

So the day came when one day in class only the Mizo students were asked to go out and practise "sarlamkai" - a popular Mizo dance form. I naturally got up to go out and then one of my teachers told me to not go since I was a vai. It was rather embarrassing but one of my friends dragged me along with him anyway. I practiced the dance but that very same night I dropped a piece of red hot coal on my toes (Don't ask me how) and my toes got swollen and I couldn't dance anyway.

And then once on the way to school I hopped onto a bus and two girls from my school stood next to me and one of them said to the other in Mizo "ka bula vaipa hi chhelo eee" (This vaipa standing next to me is so goodlooking). Good thing I had not forgotten my Mizo or else I wouldn't have had any reason to grin madly from ear to ear). As Borat would have said - " Great Success!" But there were also sad times too ,for instance there was this time when a Mizo-Vai riot broke out but I had to go to school and some teenage boys tried to pick on me but became terribly confused when I replied to their taunts in fluent Mizo.

And one time at the Bharat Scouts and Guides camp in Tanhril a mystified scoutmaster asked me in English " Are you a Mizo?" Joining the Scouts was at that time was mainly a Mizo thing ( I still can't figure out why that was the case). And this other time when I was ranked in the Top 10 in the Matriculate Exams I couldn't apply for an MBBS seat since I was a hybrid. It is an entirely different story that I wasn't interested in studying MBBS (I at that point wanted to retire to an island in the Caribbean Sea with the money I got from well wishers). Older readers will recall the controversy when IPS Officer Kiran Bedi got her daughter admitted to a medical college under the Mizoram Quota. These vais are so shameless I must say. Kudos to my parents who tried their best to get me to study MBBS - they whipped me and fed me only baibing,bekang and water for one month. I never gave in.

I now end my tale with a few notes - I am now in Bangalore where I have been mistaken for an Arab - It must be the camel I ride on, a Malayalee(???), and a Nepali among other things. For added hilarity my father's relatives (cousins,aunts, uncles etc) consider me to be a true blue Mizo. I also don't/can't speak a single word of my father's mother tongue - Marathi. When I go to Mumbai (yeah it probably might've been changed to something else now considering the time taken to write this down) I don't feel like a Marathi at all. Probably what some of you might say is.. it doesn't matter what race you are as long as you are a good person. It's what you feel inside that matters. I dunno about all that but I'll always be a Mizo and I'll happily stick to my bai,bekang,vawksa rep and our Mizo girls (girl actually)for the rest of my days.

Note: I was having a conversation with a Mizo friend the other night and this person said to me " oh so you also like the taste of Mizo dishes too?" ... The insults still fly thick and fast :)