Compulsively bloggable.

Theres a swooshing noise. Like that of a wind blowing through the branches of a tree none too gently. But only i can hear it. Because its all inside my head. No, its not a hair blower, its called "the mind in a whirl".

1. The cold caught me. No, i didn't catch the cold, it find it very silly that people say that i caught a cold. Why the madhs would i want to catch something that would give me a running nose? Morons.

2. My dad understands Chemistry. He remembers Who Babur's dad was, from some 35 year old knowledge. I told him to switch places, he gets to appear for the madhyamiks. He, of course, refused graciously.

3. My sister thinks i am taking too much pressure. I am itching to go back 4 years and show her what she was like before her madhyamiks. The less said about that, the better.(:-D) And the fact that she got a bleeding 99 in maths, yeah, tell me all about how you didn't work at all.

4. I think Physics is not my cup of tea. An excerpt from my answer script.
"The melting point of a liquid-"

5. I am fast becoming sure that i am always in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like now.

High time.

High time i stopped blogging. No, this decision isn't driven by any sort of hatred for blogging but because i like blogging. That sounds strange, eh?
Its the only things that prompts me to come online every now and then to see if anyone commented on my blog and every alternative day to post.Hence, high time i stopped.
So, Ladies and gentlemen and others, brothers and Debarun's sisters, I officially announce that my blog, DRY SENTIMENTS, is closing down indefinitely. Might drop in if the going gets too tough, though. Wonderful stress-buster, this. But i'll try to abide by my resolution that i wont blog before 7th of March. All those rude people smiling in relief, don't worry, i will compensate with multiple entries a day, after 7th March, that fateful day...
Adios. :-)...:-(
Everyone will forget...but the temporary internet files and cookies will remember.

Popular Opinion.

Yes, this is basically a little post in which i will write about me. Or, more accurately, some comments about me, comments that, fortunately, were made in my presence.

My Hindi teachers daughter,Tanya, a 7 year old morally upright young lady, was studying. I was seated in a chair beside, copying notes. Aunty was out of earshot. I decided it wouldn't hurt to listen to good music alongside.

So, i put the earphones in my ear and began copying, now enjoying the process. A few moments later i found Tanya eying me critically.
"What?" i asked.
"Is this how you study?" She asked sanctimoniously.
It feels wonderful to be chided by a girl less than half my age. Take my word for it.



My mum was considering me thoughtfully. Never a good sign, except on extremely rare occasions.
I was feeling uncomfortable under her unwavering gaze.
"What?" i asked her, irritated.
"You know, you are a very innocent boy. Kids your age are so..."
The rest ,as I say, is immaterial. I had a quiet laugh to myself after i earnestly nodded and smiled at Mum. (This satisfies your curiosity, Timmy?)




I was coming home with the grocery. A couple of kids were playing Football on the road. One of them, whose aim was, at best, unorthodox, kicked the ball at me. When i was about to kick the ball back, displaying a small portion of my scintillating repertoire of football tricks, one of them called.
"Kaku, ball."

I think they told their mum that a tall boy from so and so house smacked them upside the head. I don't care. I'm sixteen and i don't look like any kaku, whosoever.




Roro smsed me.
"Rick, my man, your posts are a hell of a lot more mature than they were before."
Mum's still wondering why i grinned throughout the day and night.




The Food was taking a long time to make an appearance. i was eying all the other table loaded with dishes with undisguised envy.

Then i saw it. A magnificent looking chicken preparation on a table. I stared at it.
"You shouldn't stare at a girl in public." Mother told me, bursting my chicken fantasy with a echoing pop. I looked intently. There was a girl sitting behind that chicken, frowning at me.
Further, i saw that mum had remarked rather loudly. Dad, Aunt, Uncle were looking at me. Glee was etched unmistakably on my Uncle's face.
I discovered that my ear turned tell-tale red when i'm under pressure. Thankfully, i have long hair.
But, all in all, a very memorable night, if you know what i mean. I wont forget it in a hurry.




My little 8 year old cousin came to visit after 3 years.
"Wow, you have grown up a lot!" I said ebulliently.(Well, i know, it was quite stupid, but i had to say something.)
His answer wiped the smile right off my face.
"Well, you haven't particularly shrunk yourself."*


*I later found out that there's a joke that goes like that. Sheesh.

Differently Natural.

I was staring at the sky. I saw a Jet Plane. Sure looked like it was in a hurry. I noticed the contrail. There were two, in fact. Two long trails of smoke. The Plane faded into insignificance. The smoke was all that mattered. It gradually expanded, slowly, taking its time. Then, it was one big trail of smoke. The jet plane was out of sight. There was a long streak of smoke dividing the sky into something and something. Then, it gradually expanded into a shapeless cloud of smoke and finally disintegrated. All that remained, was a vague memory of a whitish streak in the foreground of the sky. And then the blue became black. And something told me it was time.
By the way, jets were invented by men. So, the smoke wasnt natural. It was unbelievable, really.

Time, time, time.

My physics book says,-"The modern definition of 1 second is the duration of 9192631770 complete oscillations of a caesium-133 atom is a standard magnetic field."
Caesium, my friend, i understand you.

Calvinisation.

In case you are wondering, the reason behind the overwhelming number of Calvin photographs is Calvinisation. I love that cartoon. Pinnacle of graphic humour, if u ask me.(yes, i have read others too, Garfield, Blondie, Marvin, Dennis, Hagar the horrible...) Heck, Calvin and Hobbes is the best! Bill Watterson, you're great! Its a perfect combinations of subtlety and blunt humour, and boy, does it make mum wonder what i am doing laughing like that!
Whats funnier still, is i relate to the boy! I am just as imaginative, well, maybe not quite this deranged but quite similar, more or less. I cant stop reading it, spells doom for me before the Madhyamiks! I know this is seriously foul advice, but people, if you want to unwind, and your mum has an aversion to TV and PC then, grab this! It'll help! Honestly!

whats done is done. sigh!

Monotony has set in,again and within two days. I did not quite realise how much i was really looking forward to the path finders. Back in the middle of December, both Roro and Rohan had asked me "How are you going to spend so many days without interaction with anyone?"
I did not understand them. Short sighted that i was, their word did not make any particular sense. Now, fellows, i get it and the idea of spending something like a month n a half cooped up in my room, alone, is scary. And claustrophobic.
Pathfinders at-least gave me an opportunity to go out and talk to people, so what if the tests didn't go all that well? I have decided to accept the advice of some one. "High time you stopped getting worked up because of these mock tests." But of course in hindsight, after all the tests are over. I have this special relation with hindsight. I always look back and think this could have been so much better! And i also wasted so much time! Man, the syllabus freaks me out everyone time i think about it, the frequency of which has increased dramatically! Wish i had better time management skills!

Life science.

I dont find any life in Life Science. Physics and Math have more life in them. To an extent, chemistry does too. But biology...! And on top of that, i want to take Biology additional. Sheesh. The word 'bleak' exists just to describe the future of blokes like me.

Exams

This new way of giving exams is not bad. If not for the fact that i am not wasting half an hour thinking what to write, i am actually enjoying the exam! Honestly, its thrilling to see the paper and see your best fears confirmed and then proceed with accurate ideas. Pretty neat, eh?

Its almost like Chetan Bhagat's C2D, corporate to dominate. But Madhyamiks don't allow C2D, fortunately as well as unfortunately.
Long live (5-8) Pf-ers!

Mayhem at breakfast.

My mum and dad leave together for their office. Thats the time i have breakfast, more or less. That should speak volumes about my breakfast adventures. Like today.
"Rick, your toasts are on that plate. Marmalade, Margarine, butter, whatever you need, on the tray beside."
"But i want-"
"i dont care what you want."
"Right." i said dejected. I so wanted maggie.
Dad opened the door and came out struggling with his tie.
"Where's my breakfast?" he demanded.
I pointed at the bowl of corn-flakes while slathering my toasts with obscene amounts of margarine.
He takes the bowl and hopped back into his room to untie the knot. His tie, i mean.
Mum stormed into the room and saw me still buttering the bread.
"Still not finished?"
"It's been 3 minutes, mum, taking into account your entry and exit."
"BE quick." She muttered before storming back into the kitchen.
"Where's my blue pinstriped shirt?" My dad demanded from his room.
"I told Rick to press it yesterday." Mum hollered back.
I suddenly felt my shirt collar growing rather tight and could hear the distant rumbles of a storm. Dad is very particular about his shirts.
"Rick?" he asked, irritated."Where's my shirt?"
"Dad, you look really cool in that White shirt, yeah the one you are holding, everyone will tell you, you look superb in that." i said.
"You think so?" my dad asked, smiling widely.
"yeah yeah, and throw in that awesome black tie and... you look drop dead handsome."
"Ah, well, okay!" He shut the door to change.
I breathed easy.
"Nicely done, but that wont work on me,Mr Pal, have your breakfast now!" she said, busily exchanging stuff with the fridge.
"A'right."
While i sat chewing my bread, Dad came out.
"How do i look?" he asked, smiling.
"Se..se...ss..superb!" i managed, cursing my traitorous tongue.
He went to check his reflection in the mirror and gasped.
"Oh no!"
"What happened?" Mum and i say in unison.
"My beard, I have to shave!" he cried looking at his watch, which was ten minutes fast. Mum's conspiracy.
"You what?" said my mum, her tone changing for the worse.
"Shave."
"i wake up at 6 in the morning-"
"6:15" i said. I was up earlier than her.
"Shut up, Rick, i wake up at 6 in the morning, make 7 cups coffee-"
"Both of mine were instants, mum."
"Shut up!"she said glaring at me "Spend half an hour waking you up, I cook for your son(note, i am no longer her son), and i take care of the entire household!" she told dad, angrily."What did you do?"
I wanted to tell her that she need not cook for me, that i was perfectly happy with two omelettes for lunch which i can make myself, but it doesn't do well to push one's luck too much. I have learned the hard way, of course.
"He woke up, got the papers from outside the door, solved the sudoku, solved the crossword, told me the news updates, told me his shares crashed yet again, took his bath, got dressed and is shaving now." i said, counting my fingers.
"You call that doing something ?" glared my mum.
"No- i er-" my dad began.
"If, IF i am late because of you again, then i will, i will, not cook tonight!" she threatened.
"Dad, shave right now, without another word, dont argue, do as she says." I ordered him, while maintaining a straight face. He gave me a hurt look before he rushed to the bathroom. he likes food as much as i do.
"Er, wheres my razor?" he asked meekly.
"Its in that cupboard!" replied my mum, exasperated while i chewed my bread looking at them.
"You are still-" she began.
"I'm done, I'm done..." i snapped, depositing the plate at the sink.
"because of him....always late...do everything.." i heard my mum muttering.
Dad came out grinning from ear to ear.
"i am ready" he announced.
"About time, too." barked my mum.
"Shaving doesnt take anytime at all, You worry too much." He told mum.
"I worry too much?" she asks frowning, my sensors screaming red alert.
"Yeah, what are you talking about, dad?" i said, while both of them looked at me as if i was a startling new development.
"That day, you were all excited because you had that meeting with the higher ups, weren't you?" i asked shrewdly.
"yes, but your mum is much more hyper." (Note, now she is just my mum)
"ME? hyper?" she asked, hunting for her glasses all over the table.
"yes, ask your son." dad said, tying his shoelaces.
She glared at me quizzically. I have never quite understood how one glares quizzically but there she was, doing just that. Maybe it comes with age and experience and a son like me.
"Well, yeah mum, you tend to be slightly-" i began when she narrowed her eyes.
"-Very very slightly, you know, not even noticeable, but just the little bit hyper."
"Chorer sakkhi matal." she muttered, while i chewed my tongue trying to figure out the meaning.
"I am outdoors before you." My dad said contemptuously, stepping out of the house."And you say you are faster..."
My mum shot him a look. The look missed because he had already started climbing down the stairs. No casualties.
"Bye, dad." i yelled.
"Bye..." his voice floated back. "Don't disregard pathfinder and do press my shirt tomorrow."
i smiled sheepishly.
"Go and study now, i cant believe how much time you waste during breakfast!" she said, crest-fallen."who'll say you have madhyamiks fron feb 25th?" she asked.
"Me, and my friends too."
"You dont answer back when i ask a rhetorical question!" she said reprovingly.
i nodded as if my life depended on it.
"Bye, and dont forget to have your lunch on time and best of luck with geography, dont forget the maps, and objectives too..." she went on saying till it was impossible to hear anything.
But i didn't get my maggie. :-(

Significance.

There are some days when i feel insignificant. Alright, most days. But then, days like these, i feel significant. The sky was a washed out blue and at one direction(geography told me, east) the sun was having an epic battle with the fog. So, it was still dark, dark enough to slip into my tracks and tiptoe out of the house without letting anyone know.
I was out jogging. I decided to let the world know how significant i am.
I have been living here for the past four years. It's strange to the point of being amusing, how little i know about my locality. I know more about my friends locality. My geography comprised about 200m all around my house. I decided to extend my boundaries.
The rooster was wasting its breath. The fog, encompassing the entire neighbourhood(and helped, no doubt, by the chemical factories around), was in no hurry to let the sun in just yet. But logic, apparently, didn't form an important part of the rooster's brain. So, it went on crowing.
I found some stray canines industriously ransacking the garbage dump. Every locality has a traditional "Lalu". Our Lalu had managed to assemble some important looking professionals who seemed most proficient at littering the road. i sternly told Lalu to disperse which he did. His comrades followed with their tails down.(literally)
A quarter of an hour hence, I slowed down to a walk. The continuous jogging was taking it toll and my rasping breath forced me to slow down. I noticed a couple of youngsters looking oddly at me. They held badminton rackets.
"Wassup fellas?" i said, still short of breath.
"The shrank away from me. Apparently, the government propaganda about terrorists had some takers.
I smiled. That generally eases tension.
"What happened? Why arent you guys playing? i asked.
One of them smiled while the other decided talking would be a better pursuit.
"The shuttle's stuck in that tree and we cant reach it." he said, pointing sadly at a nearby Neem tree.
I am quite tall by kid standards.At least.
"Gimme the racket."
I easily reached the branch, jiggled it a bit and the shuttle was back in business within seconds.
"You gotta let me play too!" i said.
"Sure thing." they said.
Now that i had got the shuttle for them, all previous animosity evaporated.
Before i left, i made it quite clear to them that I was the rising badminton star, the next big thing after Saina Nehwal. They were visibly impressed by my backhand. I took on both of them and beat them 11-2. Just one thing to be noted, they were 8 yer olds.
By then the fog had lifted and visibility was good. There was a marked rise in the temperature as well. I could hear the occasional trade cries of various hawkers and peddlers. It always amazes me, the trade-cries. The rhythm,the length the particular note, remains the same, every day. One of the few roadside tea shops and started their business and fellow joggers began to make their presence felt as well.
I was heading back when i found another little kid, this time a little girl trying out the bi-cycle. She barely managed to proceed 2 feet before she tilted and ended up sprawled on the ground. But she persisted. I decided to help.
"Want me to teach you?" i asked, enthusiastically checking out the bi-cycle. I love bi-cycles ever since the day i overcame the confusion of whether it was bycicle or bicycle.
"Why?" she asked suspiciously. 'Kids these days...'
"you don't seem to be making any headway, i can give you some handy tips." i said, winking at her.
"Okay!" she said happily, giving me a toothy smile. That was easy.
After fifteen minutes, after several crashes, one of which knocked the air out of me, i left her paddling happily in her garage. Her bye-bye was most distinguished.
"Tata, cycle dada."
I looked at the white building from afar and trudged on sadly. My walk was already over and i had to go back and study! But i found, to my delight, a few friends arranging the stumps for a cricket match. I hurried towards them.
"Shall i join you? I am Tendulkar-" i began.
"Off the field."said a voice."on it, he just regularly runs out of luck."
My mum was smiling down from the terrace.
"Maybe some other time" i told my grinning friends. i climbed up the stairs and looked at the dust motes dancing in the sunlight just outside the door. I wondered how i could feel so down on such a bright day. I pushed the door open. My day had begun.

Laws of Time part IV

...The Memory...
19 YEARS BEFORE

He had just finished his last assignment and was taking the day off. It was almost a year since he got the weapon. And since then, he had succeeded in every mission he undertook and much quicker than reasonably expected. He had made extensive research about the weapon but did not unearth anything significant. He was not so keen to let the entire world know about his weapon and even less keen to let them know how he got it. The few experts he contacted, vehemently disagreed that such a weapon existed and he had seen no reason to convince them otherwise. So, he was still quite unaware how, where, and when the weapon had been manufactured.
But his astute mind had found out all the facilities the weapon had to offer. Like the option to mould the weapon into his hand.Or, the options to shoot through stone, steel, titanium…you name it. Or, the one he had found most handy, the weapon become invisible at his wish. He could walk into any territory without raising any alarm but holding a weapon better than that age had to offer.
And here, laid his discontentment. He had a weapon better than the age had to offer but he knew nothing about its history. He simply couldn’t rest without knowing all about his gun. And so, that day, he had decided to show the gun to an expert for the first time. He had considered and reconsidered this decision many times and came to the conclusion that it was the only possible way he could get what he wanted.
Mercenaries often need custom made guns for some assignments. There were many experts who existed precisely for that purpose. And among them, the best was Fox. An eccentric man, no doubt, but brilliant as well. And this was the man whom Danny went to meet. If anyone could tell him about the weapon, it would be Fox.
Fox was paranoid about security.Through the years, all the alarms that he had raised claiming there was an intruder in his house had been hoaxes, without exception. He lived in a bungalow that was surrounded by a 20 foot high wall and with two feet electric wire on top, that conducted no less than 5000 volts. And off-course, infra red alarms and heat sensitive automatic guns were fixed at strategic positions. He had 3 guards, all veterans in the business, and all of them had the instruction as well as the the authority to shoot anyone at sight. Outside this bungalow, Danny got out of his car and stood in front of the gate staring at a camera. Soon, with a loud grating noise the mechanical gate began to slide sideways and a security officer appeared beside it and ushered him in. He quietly followed the guard, his weapon invisible on his arm. The guard took him to the door of the bungalow through a narrow path that wound around various mines and guns. As Danny peered around, he marveled at the weapons around him. Each of them was the very latest in the market and extremely dangerous. He did not envy any intruder who stumbled in these grounds.
Soon he was standing at the door which opened at once and Fox’s manservant appeared.
“Are you carrying any weapons, Sir?” he asked.
“No.” replied Danny. But he knew the question was purely perfunctory as he would have to walk through four or five detectors anyway.
“Please come this way, sir.” he said and stepped aside to reveal a series of arms detectors.
Danny walked through everyone one of them confidently, because he was sure that his gun was undetectable. And just as he went through the last one, a voice sounded sharply to his left.
“Stop! Hands up, Danny.” Said a grizzly old man with a bald head and wearing horn rimmed spectacles.
Danny turned to see Fox aiming a revolver at him and eyeing him malevolently.
“What is this, Fox?” asked Danny, growing slightly uncomfortable.
“Did you think I would forget the humiliation, huh? You think I could forget that?
“What are you talking about, Fox? What humiliation?” Danny was growing more worried by the minute, because Fox was a man who killed someone first and asked questions later. He nervously gripped his gun and prepared to leap, in case Fox fired.
“Don’t pretend Danny, you know it as well as I do but I WILL kill you today!” and he squeezed the trigger.
Danny leapt aside but the gun emitted an innocuous click. And fox roared with laughter.
“Just my old trick, Danny m’boy, but from the look on your face you fell for it!”
“I must admit, Fox, your acting skills have improved, but coming back to business, I have a rather delicate problem for you.” said Danny.
“What kind of a problem, Danny? You know I have retired from my job, I don’t make no weapons no more.”
“Oh, but you'll help me in this, I'm sure you will.”
“Eh? You're sure? Well then go ahead. What is it?”
“Well then, prepared to be surprised because I have a weapon on me.”
“Right, and Napoleon was my father. You can’t pass any weapon in existence, through that door”, he said, pointing to the last detector that Danny had passed through.
“A’ right, what’s this then?” asked Danny as the gun materialized on his arm.
Fox turned pale, really pale. He had built that security system himself and was sure that no weapon could pass them and now seeing this piece of metal that passed right through them…to say the least, it unnerved him. And of course the fundamental question:Where the hell did the gun come from?
“I-Impossible! That can’t be a weapon!” he stammered disbelievingly.
“Oh, but it is.”said Danny, enjoying himself.
“Here, look”, he said pointing to the vase at the corner and blasting it.
Fox began to tremble and very badly at that. That was due to the combination of three reasons. Firstly, he was convinced that Danny was holding a gun(or was he? Fox couldn’t see his hand, the gun jutted out of his arm and that terrified him all the more). Secondly, he didn’t see any kind of bullet or projectile or laser that hit his vase and thirdly, that was his favourite vase, an 16th century antique from china.

The Crow

I woke up at 4 in the morning. This time, the credit for waking me up goes to the unknown entity who is the main reason behind me confronting a ten headed octopus(kootchie kootchie koo, Rohan?) in the land of surreality. I won, naturally, but the octopus's dying scream woke me up.
I stretched. Docs say that stretching after waking up is a natural instinct but not necessarily a healthy one. Remind me to tell you all about how a particular ligament in my calf caught fire. I hopped about in the balcony for ten minutes straight and hopped high enough to make any one-legged frog proud, till the crow arrested my curiosity.
The Crow.
One of the worst looking scavengers, I know, but i find them more fascinating than stupid talking birds. I, myself, often talk to a crow but their replies are so rude and uncouth that i give up. But i concede, a very intelligent species.
The fog was uncharacteristically dense(or maybe not, i have never seen how dense the fog is at 4 a.m). I could see about ten feet into the fog even with my legendary squinting abilities. I noticed the Crow, shrouded by an evil green veil which, I realised after a moment's deliberation, was just the coconut leaf surrounding it.
The Crow in question had its beady eyes fixed on mine. I blinked, nonplussed but the crow was looking straight at me, its eyes an inscrutable black. Almost sinister.
I began to make faces and threatening gestures.After a particularly wild volley of gesticulations, which prompted my mom to throw a worried look at me, i still found the crow staring at me, unmoved, unaffected.
The Crow.
I felt slightly uneasy. The eyes had a strange feel about them, it was as if i knew what it meant yet i didn't. It was well over fifteen minutes since i had begun my pursuit to scare the crow but it still sat there. Just like that.
By this time, i was seriously worried. I decided to do something dramatically conclusive. I fished around in my cupboard and found two marbles. Armed with marbles, i faced the crow again. By now the terrifying eyes looked dark and morbid and so without wasting time, taking careful aim, i threw the stone at it.
It happened on my first attempt. The marble hit its mark. However the crow made no attempt to move out of the way neither did it cry out. It just toppled over and went down.
Horrified, i rushed downstairs to see what happened. I found the crow lying in the center of a pineapple plant. It had its wings folded by its sides. Its claws were bent at odd angles. I looked into its eyes.
It still looked back, boring into my eyes with that unwavering look,the look which had something strange-
The look which drove
In like a knife
The eyes without
The flicker of life.
The Crow had been dead for several hours.

The little family dinner

"Rick dear, come to the table for you dinner!"
"Coming, mum!"
Sweet repetition of the above lines for about 7 times and then...
"Rick! come here right now!"
This used to happen about 3 years ago...the days when the world was so beautiful, so nice...
And now...
"Rick, you are coming to the dinner table within 30 seconds." Period.

Once seated, my dad, who prides himself a connoisseur in fishy matters-er fish matters, sniffs at a particular preparation and smiles.
I cross my fingers and hope for the best.
"So, today you cooked that "!@$#$@"(pardon, i dont quite remember the name)? Did you put that "%^&*%$" and "^%##%^&" when cooking?" he asks my mum eagerly.
"Yes, i did." says my mum shortly.She isn't too happy either, she had to cook that fish.
"Ah! Rick, you will have two pieces, okay? You need to know that fishes in themselves are..." I try my hardest to think of a before-weight-loss- Adnan Sami doing cartwheels. Effect: Immediate imperviousness.

Dinner starts formally with me giving dark looks to mum. I mouth silently "We have to eat this fish? What do i do? Extricate the fish and eat the bones? Because the bones are in overwhelming majority."
She mouths back," No, i will not force you to eat it." Only she forgets to do it silently.
Dad gives me his extremely rare i-am-the-owner cum head-of-this-place look.
"You will eat it."
Its advisable that an altercation does not follow that look. It's end is supremely predictable because someone becomes rather irrational.
"But dad, just looks at this, its virtually boneless!" i say sarcastically.
I didnt realise he was getting sharper by the day. But he was.
"Think about it like this, the more bones there are the better the fish tastes. Dont you love ilish?" he asks me.
I had to admit that Ilish is wow, but this...?!
I had once made the mistake of telling my dad that I am weak at variations. He took it as a personal insult.
"He is a living calculator" i tell everyone who listens. Really, he calculates 369*354 in 6 seconds mentally, faster than a calculator.Well, i generally fumble for a second with the calculator but thats a different matter.
"Its like this: the taste of the fish varies as the number of bones." he tells me shaking a spoon in front of my face.
"Fine and whats the constant?" i ask belligerently.
"You."
I am stunned. I lose the argument.


Vegetable Bonanza.

I lose the argument, my spirits are down and then mum drops her bombshell.
"Here" she says, while giving me liberal amounts of what looked like a miniature version of snakes coiled around branches and floating on marshes.

I gulp.
"Er, mum, what exactly is this?First-day-in-New-Year special?" i ask innocently.

"No, its called sukto. Its very nutritious and i wont hear a word against it."

I suddenly remembered something.
"Mum, you remember our deal?" I ask dangerously.
"yes, i remember. As far as i know, night time is my domain." she says coolly, far from cowering under my dangerous tone.
The deal was simple: During the day i eat what i choose and at night i eat what mum chooses.
"yes, but today was an exception, you were home today and you stuffed me with kacha kola!"
She tries hard to recall and with style, what with that wonderfully done frown and out-of-focus eyes. I really wanted to remind her that it was a mere 5 hrs ago but refrain.
"Well, yes, but-" The subtle change in the tone is all i will ever need to make my move.
"I wont" i say stoically.

"Dinner is the time of the day when men enjoy food."-Some smart ass who didn't have the guts to live in my time so that i could strangle him.