I’ve Got Sweaty Boots, Not Sexy Boots

I still haven’t typically mastered to ‘dress for the weather’. Today I wore my brown combat boots, leggings and a flannel shirt with a pashmina scarf thinking it would be perfect for a chilly evening. I didn’t leave the house before this so my knowledge on the current meteorology was exactly nada. I stepped out of my house and three minutes later, as I was walking down the street I realized I was dressed wrong. It was warm and people were wearing flip flops and tank tops. My feet were sweating in my boots and I couldn’t walk back home because I was almost at the bus stop. I felt like I would never master this art. Its stupid, if you ask me. In Madras I never had to ‘dress for the weather’. I’d just wear what I liked and would inevitably end up sweating in it. I don’t understand winter, spring and all that jazz. I only know summer. And summer is hot. And summer is sweaty.

I was thinking about this on the bus when one girl got on. I noticed she was wearing a T-shirt and white patialas. That’s what I wear to sleep but this girl made it work. Then I saw she was wearing a fluffy winter hat and I felt better about my boots. If people think wearing a scarf on the head is hot (like sweaty hot, not ooh thats hot!, hot) then wearing a woolen hat is worse. So she passed me to go sit at the back and I noticed that her white patialas were transparent, as most white patialas and pants are, and she was wearing a HOT PINK CHADDI. I wanted to yell at her, “WE CAN ALL SEE YOUR CHADDI!”, but I had to get off.

I may still be sweating inside my boots, but thank God my pants are not see through.

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Is it clean or is it green?

Today I put a bunch of clothes in the washer. Actually, I put too many clothes inside and the washer stopped working. So I took out half the amount of clothes and a red dress whose colour I know for a fact runs. I put two cycle of clothes in the washer. I thought I was smart, taking out the red dress and all. I opened the washer and the clothes looked alright to me. I put them in the drier, happy that I had accomplished this task without any major blunders.

Fourty minutes later the drier beeped. I opened the drier and found that the green color from some random piece of clothing had managed to run. A few of my clothes had grey/green streaks all over and my white t shirt was white no more. I’ve now learnt my lessons : two loads in the washer, one for color and one for white clothes. Also, don’t think you are smarter than the washer.

Two for one.

Every time before I make breakfast I turn up the stove and then decide what to make. I will have egg today, I decided. So I broke the egg in a bowl and what I saw in it scared me. I broke ONE egg. There was ONE portion of white and TWO portions of yolk joined together in the center. It looked like a Venn Diagram! I’m not particularly fond of ingesting a genetically modified egg with two yolks, so I dumped the egg down the garbage disposal. My friend told me that it was a pair of twins. Mommy hen must be pretty pissed.

 

Proof :

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Sunday is my favourite day of the week. Waking up late, having breakfast even later, reading through all the newspapers, I love my Sunday rituals. Today on the way back home from breakfast I saw the most despicable sight that ruined my Happy Sunday mood. On the main road of a busy intersection I saw a decently dressed woman lift her little daughters frock and let the child go pee pee on the MAIN ROAD in front of so many people. I saw this and I was ashamed for the place I come from. It doesn’t matter how you dress and from what kind of a “respectable” society you come from, if you don’t have civic sense, or just common sense, it just shows undeveloped you are as a human.
Thanks to this lady and her daughters inability to control her bladder, my day was officially ruined. Or so I thought.
So as we were driving back, me belting out a monologue on how human society has fallen and my brother barely listening, I saw a sight that cooled my senses. The pretty yellow trees all over my neighbourhood have such a soothing effect on me. I felt really happy at that moment. There may be people present in the world who blot the Earth with their ungratefulness but the Earth doesn’t do tit for tat. She repays you back with beauty for your eyes and a cool shade.
This also one of the reasons why I love Madras. She shows me terrible things but also presents me with something beautiful and in a weird, mostly illogical way, I’d like to think a balance is achieved.

The interwebz is weird, you guys.

The internet is full of weirdos and perverts. There were a bunch of people who searched  for ‘komanam pictures’ and the search led them to my blog. Come on guys! I do not have ‘komanam pictures’ neither do I have pictures of ‘girls in komanam’. So if you are reading this, you pervert, you need to get off the computer right now and go get a life.
Also, why would anyone search for ‘tirunelveli rowdies’? I’m from there and I assure you not all of us are like that. And to the person who is searching for ‘aruval pictures’, yeah, you need help.

An Itch And A Scratch

If I were to go to hell for one thing, and one thing alone it would be for murder.
Murder of hundreds upon thousands of mosquitoes whose bite marks have scarred my hands and feet beyond repair.

I don’t know if it is my “sweet” blood or my penetrable skin, but I attract mosquitoes like bees to honey. Mosquitoes have given me sleepless nights. I’ve spent hours killing every single mosquito in the room with my bare hands.
Gross, I know.

Even a single mosquito at night can keep awake till day break. My feet bear the scars of battles lost against mosquitoes. I’ve had a mosquito bite me on my hands, feet, fore head, eyebrow!, lip, tip of my nose, on my little toe, my back and even on my ear. Those suckers come, juicy and fat, loaded with blood and insert their sharp proboscis into my already deformed skin. The worst part is they are so tiny yet, they inflict pain like nothing else! My mortal enemy, after dogs of course, are mosquitoes. I waged war against them since the day I was born.

I have, at one point of time, inhaled a mosquito! Like really, actually breathed in a live mosquito like it was the most natural thing on Earth. But thankfully I also sneezed it out and it did come out… dead.

I know God made everything for a reason and we shouldn’t question him. But can someone please explain to me what purpose does the mosquito actually solve apart from showing its vampire-is-tic tendencies?

When I was little, I used to get the most awful mosquito bites. Red, sore, pus infused, disgusting scabs all over my limbs. I used to practically cry myself to sleep every night. I have used every mosquito repellent available in the market from Odomos to Good Night gel, Tortoise kosu bathhi, All Out liquid and I have even slept under mosquito nets. Till date, nothing has worked. I have a story for almost every prominent mosquito bite on my body. I have scratched my sores so much so that I’ve had skin peel off.

And the only reason I’m up this late telling you this is because the darn mosquitoes won’t let me sleep! As of tonight alone I would have killed close to twenty mosquitoes. That is not something I’m proud of but it does give me some sadistic pleasure.

I am SO going to Hell.

The Smell Of Freedom

Freedom they say, smells sweet. But in India freedom does smell a little.. actually a LOT like pee.
Pee.

That my friends is the smell of freedom. The repulsive smell of pee is what hits you first when you step outside. No wonder “foreigners” are disgusted by us. The smell of pee is in the air you breathe. Its like how when you land in Singapore the first thing you smell when you’re at the streets is fish. In Bangkok it was swine meat. In France I guess its cheese? The same way in India its pee.

Probably half the population pees on the road but we are still very pretentious you see. The remaining half of the population act like they have never seen/smelt pee on the road. In my lifetime and I’m not that very old, I have see a lot of people doing their business in street corners, little slum kids squatting along the road or near a dump. This is what we see everyday.

A few days back when I got down from my bus and walked across the road to the pavement I found myself standing near that electric board thing that looks like its in a cupboard, surrounded by sick pee stink and funnily enough the smell came from near the board! People pee near electricity. They are not afraid to relieve themselves in public and if you catch them doing it then screw you! They are not going to apologize!

I accept peeing in public is disgusting but this is just what people do here. The more you tell them not to do it, the more the pee on the roads. Indians make the best of use of the freedom that they have. They do everything on the streets! We can keep talking about how sick and rotting this particular action is for years and years to come but no matter how sophisticated we become there will still be a bunch of people gracing the roads of India with their pee.

I think the reason why many prefer to do their business in public is because people do not trust them with bathrooms.

Take for example the restrooms in the trains. The restrooms are pretty small. The wash basin has an abnormal kind of tap system that is being used for God knows how many years. If you’ve traveled in an Indian train you know what I’m talking about.

Another thing about Indians are is that they are seriyana OC party which means that we love freebies and we are not ashamed of it. Sometimes the OC part might go to an extent of stealing. We love to steal things! Especially things that belong to the Government! When they clean man holes the lid is removed and kept away and there are a bunch of people who make shit loads of money stealing it and putting it to use some other way.

Hence they do not trust us with “MUGS” in the restrooms of trains. So they came up with a brilliant plan where they CHAINED the steel MUG to the wall. And its not even that long so basically it doesn’t reach where it needs to and with all the motion in the train the water is every where! And if you have to catch water in your travelling mug you have to life the top of the tap that is almost always rusted, hold the mug close and balance yourself as the train in thrown full-on onto the tracks.

“There!”, says the Railways.
“Try stealing that you jerks!”.
“And while you’re at it, TRY TO PEE!!”.
Evil Laugh.
The End.

Eww. Eww. Eww. Eww.

Girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
And boys????

Ask any girl about her perfect guy or how she wants her future husband to be and she’ll say “Oh he has to be tall and cute/hot and sweet and good looking and charming and should buy me loads of gifts and should listen to everything I have to say yadda, yadda, yadda.

Clean and hygienic never pops up in the list.

And that is the TOP on mine.
The guy just HAS to be clean. And not obsessive-compulsive-cleaning=disorder clean but normal-decent-human level of cleanliness: cut nails, clean feet, no B.O, groomed hair and beard (note: beard, MUST.) and overall average cleanliness.

In my 19 years of walking this planet I have seen the most disgusting, repulsive, ugly, dirty male feet EVER. Overgrown, dirt-ridden toe nails are such a turn-off. I feel like personally giving those guys a pedicure just to save others from seeing such a disgusting sight. And icky, greasy, oily hair.. Don’t even get me started.

There are guys who think that if they dress like models, spray on some bloody so-called perfume that apparently attracts women to them but thankfully misfires and have a hot ride get their work done. Now if you look lower and lower till you reach the smelly feet you will find what you’re looking for.

Seriously guys, have you heard of something called ‘soap and water’? Or maybe ‘nail cutter’? Yeah, they could be your best friend if only you gave them a chance.

Seriously.

Seriously.