30 March 2009

This beautiful world that we live in

I took some personality assessment quizzes some days back, all of which told me that I am aggressive and that I intimidate people. I'm shocked and hurt. Me? Intimidating? A gentle, kind, and loving soul such as I?? Quite impossible. Yet, they suggest that I do indeedy do! So anyway, just to prove them wrong, I decided to pay attention to details when I'm with my friends and make little notes and then compare how we deal with things/people so I can at least tell myself "See I'm not any more aggressive than the next person." Or maybe if I found out I was, I could at least work towards mending myself.

And when I started paying attention, I noticed things. There are two instances of note that stand out in my mind:

The first one happened last week. One fine morning Orpi and I were riding on a rickshaw to go grocery shopping when two guys on a bike started following us. Not useful info, but interesting to know - us two girls after climbing out of bed had only brushed teeth and washed faces before climbing in the rickshaw. We both wore old ripped t-shirts and equally unappealing slacks. In fact, I was still wearing what I was wearing in bed. We were that sloppy.

As for our two guys on the bike - they were not handsome, or remotely attractive, but it was obvious that they were men who paid a lot of attention to outward appearances from the way their jeans and their shirts were all embroidered to death with the all the colors of the rainbow, and then some.

Also sported other tell-tale signs - repulsively beauty-salon-straightened hair, fake designer sunglasses, and local gym powered baby biceps. You know - the works. Well except for the shoes. But we all know that that's the norm in our beloved country. Shoes don't matter. Ugly shoes, broken shoes, oversized shoes, undersized shoes, dirty shoes, smelly shoes - they all go as long as your clothes have something shiny attached to them.

Anyway, these two men followed us for about a good 10 minutes before they finally threw a piece of paper at us. Do not forget that we ignored them completely, and this act of throwing paper was done despite us showing absolutely no interest. The paper landed on Orpi's lap, and I knew immediately what it was going to be. Orpi however was quite flummoxed.

I told her if she opened the piece of paper, she would find a very undesired, unwanted, and unasked for phone number scribbled on it. Well, she unfolded the piece of paper - revealing the phone number as predicted (and at the same time my great wisdom). A phone number on lined paper with a pencil. How classic! Anyway, there were several things that I found quite perplexing -

1. Note that all of these happened at around 10 in the morning. That's grossly early in the city on a Saturday morning. I understand a bit of flirting at certain times of the day, but at 10 AM?!

2. Do these men carry pieces of paper and a pencil with them at all times? Or do they have many readymade pieces of paper with their numbers already written and they take several out with them each time they leave the house? Like the way you ensure you have sufficient cash in your wallet before leaving the house...

3. If so, how many charitable contributions do you figure they make on an average day? And has any of these contributions ever resulted in the desired phone call?

4. If so, who are these women who actually call them? And who are their doctors?

5. Us at our sloppiest best and sleep in our puffy eyes. Them with them slick overly straight hair and shaved chests and 'Versase' emblazoned shirts - why were we not simply overlooked? Why were we so graciously bestowed with their phone number? Should we flatter ourselves? Did they find us pretty? Sexy? Attractive? Girlfriend material? Wife material? Sex-slave material?

(I can answer this. Ladies, if this ever happens to you, don't get ideas in your heads. It doesn't mean you've turned into a great beauty suddenly. Chances are you look quite as normal/bad as you looked the last time you looked at yourself or even worse, taking the heat, the dust and grime, the wind in your hair, and the general pollution into consideration. What these men are doing is being smart. They are simply increasing their odds and consequently their chances of winning by showering every girl they see with their little gift.)

The stunned Orpi turned me to me and asked "What should I do? Should I just throw it out?" I told her to do the only thing I would have done if it was my hand that was holding the paper. "Put your hands outside where they can see it and tear it up in front of them."

I can't help it. I didn't and still don't know any better way of handling the situation. It wasn't aggressiveness.

The second incident happened last Thursday. I was with the good Macavity walking down a busy road - full of honking vehicles stuck in a traffic jam when some horrible person threw water at us! It hit us on our backs, drenching us from the neck down. I'm a pretty good sport at things like these during Holi, but it was not Holi or any sort of festival that involves throwing water on people. When we turned round to look, we just saw the endless sea of vehicles with many bored looking drivers and passengers.

I can't explain the kind of rage that engulfs you when something like this happens to you. It's a murderous anger, it's anger that makes wives kill husbands and kids kill classmates. But I'm scared shit of jails :P, and I didn't have a weapon. So all I did was stand and look around, trying to find who the culprit was, looking into the faces of everyone around me trying to detect some sign of guilt. And when I couldn't find any, I did the next best thing I could do. I swore.

"I wish that fucker would die right NOW!"

I normally don't use words like 'fucker' but I was so mad it just came on its own, as smooth and natural as words (:P) like 'Goo' slide up an infant's throat. Then the good, always-in-control Macavity piped in "I don't want them to die, but yeah, I do wish something unpleasant happens to them."

I found it cute. Yet almost ridiculous. I like expletives now and then. They express things so frigging well. Sorry :D! And it was not like I really wanted them to die. I wanted them to die in my speech - that's about all. If that makes any sense. That's like killing someone in a book. Pretty harmless and legal. It's better than throwing water on innocent women walking down the road.

Anyway, if these things make me an aggressive bitch, so be it. I think we can be cute and pink with dogs and babies and mums and a few other loved ones. As for the rest, a little aggression won't harm anyone and will also keep us safe in this very beautiful world with its very beautiful human beings.

27 March 2009

RIP Dan Seals

My heart is breaking! Dan Seals died Wednesday. I just heard about it today, now I hate myself for overworking and not even checking up on the news! Just yesterday I and a friend were having this conversation about places where we'd like to settle down. She asked me to pick between Rome and Montana. I picked Montana, and she asked me why because she thought Rome would be a blatant choice for anyone - warmer, and it's not in America :)

I told her -

"Won't you meet me in Montana
I wanna see the mountains in your eyes
I've had all of this life I can handle
Meet me underneath that big Montana sky..."

It's Dan Seals voice singing about the mountains of Montana and the big Montana sky that I grew up with. All my life I've always had this lovely picture of Montana in my head because of this song. Mountains and clear blue skies, and meeting my cowboy under that big Montana sky. And even though I don't know what Montana really is like, picking between Montana and Rome was easy. (And I just Googled Montana, and it looks EXACTLY the way I've always pictured it )

And that was yesterday, and we laughed about it. And now I learn he's dead, and I am just so friggin' sad! :(

I love the man. Dan Seals - his voice, his songs - I don't even know where to start. How many of his songs have I cried to? And I have never grown out of them. I have my iPod here - full of new age, modern music, current hits, and heavy banging songs. And amidst all these, my Dan Seals songs - they're all still there. And I'm never taking them down. They'll rage on. And copying the following from a fan site:

"I think God must be a cowboy at heart He made wide open spaces from the start He made the grass, the trees, the mountains and a horse to be your friend And trails to lead ole cowboys home again..."

The cowboy made it home.

Rest in peace Dan.

26 March 2009

I'm balding

It's the end of the quarter and you know how it goes - everyone frantically trying to do or make it look like they did all the work they were supposed to do in the last 3 months. In one word - CRAZY! For many nights, the computer has often been my chosen companion for the night. Enveloped in its warm loving glow I forget how to stop sometimes.

So tonight's been one of those nights. I made an effort to go shopping with a friend, only to make some excuse to cut it short so I could run back to my computer. I've been tapping away happily enough, deeply engrossed when one of my little installed gadget that pops up with wise sayings now and then suddenly popped up a saying by Leo Tolstoy. And guess what it said? It said "In the name of God, stop a moment, cease your work, look around you."

The manner in which it popped up, and the time it picked to pop up made me feel like there was something intense to it, some deeper sign that I should pay heed to. It wasn't easy but I stopped a moment, ceased my work, carefully looked around, my head reeling with deadlines and reviews and revenue figures...

"Hmm, my bedside table and the lamp on it needs dusting...hmm my calendar is still on January, should change...nothing significant, maybe I should just stop listening to Tolstoy and go back to work."

And when I glanced back towards my monitor, I saw a picture a friend had sent earlier in the day that I never actually looked at was still open. A recent picture from a farewell party of a friend who was leaving the country. So I took a look, and took a closer look, and what did I see?
Can you see? I'm BALDING! Maybe in spots, but it definitely is there. Terror gripped me! Am I not too old for Alopecia? Am I not too young to be losing hair? And to think I've been walking around, even dancing with this bald spot on my scalp all this time! No wonder people always stare and whisper when I walk by...

And now I can't work, because I'm worried about this very worrisome condition of my scalp. Which I would have been very blissfully oblivious of if only I hadn't listened to Mr Tolstoy. And didn't some other wise person say ignorance is bliss? I mean look at the picture - I was all ha ha-ing, oblivious but worry-free. Now I can hope to get no rest because that ignorance has been taken away from me.

Anyway, the moral of the story is - don't listen when you get random wise sayings by random wise men that are even more randomly thrown at you. Especially if it's by Leo Tolstoy.

24 March 2009

Wedding Bells again - not mine again

My little sister is getting married - more blog posts to be made about that, but I'm saving that for the coveted rare Mizo post.

I'm glad for my sister. The guy she's marrying is someone I genuinely like, so no issues there. BUT...can you imagine what it's going to be like for poor "old" me when I go home for the wedding? The pressure and the annoying jokes I'm going to have to face...I dread it. I wish I can not go, I wish I can stay here and send them a nice present and call them on their wedding day to congratulate them. But my little sister is getting married, and I really really want to be there on her special day...

I feel bad that my mom worries about me not 'having a man around to take care of me.' But I don't get why she worries. All my life, for as long as I can remember, I've always been taught that the ultimate aim of Jerusha as a person is to be an individual who will always take care of herself no matter what. Men may die, fathers may pass away, husbands may leave, and you never know when you'll have to stand on your own.

Well they was what I was taught, and now all of a sudden here she is, breaking my heart because I sadden her by being single. 'If I were to die, I'd feel better if I you had a husband to take care of you' she says. I feel bad that she feels bad even if currently I don't think I can have a life any better than I have it now.

But brash people who don't know how not to poke their noses into people's personal lives, or people who genuinely care will say things that hurt me. And I will leave Mizoram with crushed confidence like I always do. It's going to be ugly. Don't get me wrong, it's going to be a beautiful day, but it's going to be ugly for me.

Why can't people understand that people's lives and thoughts are their own and that it's rude to pry or offer too many advices? Or that some people want to be crazy in love with the person before they decide to marry them and not just get married to a socially acceptable person just because they feel they have to get married? And that not everyone buckles under pressure?

And sometimes people do meet people that they do fall crazily in love with but there are things that stands in your way and marriage is just out of the question. It would be so unfair to get married - unfair on me, and unfair for whoever the man is that I marry. Imagine lying in bed with someone who is your husband and thinking about some other man every night! It's going to feel like committing adultery every night. And what's worse, I'm not even sure towards whom my guilt would lie - towards my husband for thinking of another man or to the someone you keep thinking of for having sex with my 'husband.' It's just unthinkable!

23 March 2009


And no! It wasn't my boyfriend that lied to me.

22 March 2009

Jerusha is disillusioned!

My new favorite quote is by Robert Byrne, a man I currently feel a very close kinship to. I'm sure he learned this the hard way too.

"In order to preserve self-respect, it is sometimes necessary to lie and cheat." (Smart man!)

And particularly more so to lie.

And frankly, even when it's got nothing to do with preserving your self-respect, but because even if you don't, people will lie to you anyway. They will find reasons and excuses to lie to you because people have such deep inclination to lie that they will do it even when it's completely unnecessary. And even when there are no major different consequences of telling a lie or the truth, they will still choose to pick the first because it comes so much more naturally to them.

It's stupid to be truthful. It's important to lie to people because it's just plain nasty to lie to people so people who do lie deserve to have the same nastiness back. And why should anyone strive so hard to be truthful anyway? It's obvious that no one can be truthful to you! Why should I make any effort to be real when the world and the people around me are ALL false?

I'm not talking about the occasional 'Oh I have to take my dog to the vet and therefore have to leave work early while I'm really just spending the afternoon with my boyfriend' kind of lie. I'm talking about the kind of lie that has the potential to hurt you because of the simple fact that you are being lied to kind of lie. The really mean and sucky and ugly kind.

I only owe it to God to be truthful, and with that I don't even have a choice because I can't lie to God anyway. And as for the rest, I am henceforth going to adopt a new outlook to life - I will sprinkle a little bit of love and lie everywhere I go. And neither I nor the people I lie to will be none the worse for it. It'll just make things fairer and even. I'm going to turn lying into an art form.

And incidentally - it's so good to not be in school anymore! I know what my English teacher would have said if I had turned this post in as an exam paper. I can just see it -

"Jerusha, how many times does the words 'lie' and 'people' appear in this post?"

(trembling knowing I am in trouble) "I don't know Sir.."

"Count the lies" :P

(I count - but I'm not really counting now - so let's pick a random number - 22)

"22 times Sir"

"Do you think that's alright? Do you think it's okay that you used 'lie' 22 times here? What have we learned about repeated words and using the same word over and over again?"

***mumble mumble***

"What do you think of your paper? Do you think you've done a good job?"

"No Sir"

"Why then did you not try to make it better?"

(Lying) "I was not feeling well Sir"

"Would you like to work on it again and show me you can do better?"

(Lying) "Yes Sir"

"Here, take it back and work on it tonight, and don't come and tell me you were not feeling well again!"

(Lying) "Thank you Sir"

I half wish I was in this situation now just so I can tell him no I'm not really thankful and no I don't want to work on it anymore, and I think it's okay that I used the word 'lie' 22 times and that the same word being repeated many times over doesn't bother me and I'd do it again and I hate Celine Dion and I hate your moustache and even though you think it's unfeminine for schoolgirls to listen to Metallica I still listen to them everyday!

He was okay. School was okay. We learned useful things. But damn, don't you hate it that they tried to tell you what you should like and MUST NOT like, define your tastes in music and clothes and life in general and your overall opinion of people and also try to act as your religious teachers!

They did need a bit of lying to.

09 March 2009

Confessions of a pukee

Macavity and I went out for dinner tonight at our favorite restaurant - a professionally constructive dinner where we were supposed to just have a quiet dinner and go through our business plans for the year. We'd just come back from a quick trip to the ladies room, still talking when we passed this 2 men, one of whom looked very ill with his hands covering his mouth. And just as we walked past, something happened - I'm still not sure how the event unfolded. I was still happily talking when I felt this wet spray on my chest, and before I could fathom what had happened, I heard Shirley confusedly scream "Jerusha! What was that!? Did that man just throw up on us?"

We crazedly ran back in and without saying a word soaped ourselves like our lives depended on it. It was only when we went back to the restaurant with wet hair and messy damp clothes that the full reality of what had just happened dawned on me. An ugly, bald, old man who doesn't know how much to drink on a Monday night and who at that age still didn't know how much his system can hold or can't hold had thrown up on us!

It is so disgusting! I just got home and had a proper sterilizing bath but the thought of what happened still angers me. Anyway, that's all. I just thought I'd write about it because you don't get a lot of blog posts about being puked on. I have just being puked on.