Erm...!

So I am singing the Bimbo song and Ri is listening to me. For those you who do not know the Bimbo song , here is a bit of it: 

Bimbo, is a little boy
Who's got a million friends
And every time he passes by
They all invite him in
He'll clap his hands
And sing and dance
And talk his baby talk
With a hole in his pants
And his knees stick out
He's just big enough to walk

Bimbo, Bimbo
Where you going to go e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
What you going to do e oh
Bimbo, Bimbo
Does your mommy know
That your going down the road
To see a little girly oh!

It is a lovely song. You can click on the hyperlink and listen to it too.

So I am singing the song and suddenly Ri stops me.

Ri: So, ma... This boy, Bimbo, he really like girls doesn't he?

Me: Yep he does

Ri: And he does not tell his mother that he is going to meet this girls.

Me: Uh huh...

Ri: So, ma... That is not really a great thing because he should tell his mother where he is going.

Me: That is right...

Ri: So, it is wrong behaviour.

Me: (Not sure where this is going) Yes. He should have told his mother.

Ri: Hmm... And still he has a million friends!

And yet again I am stunned!

Who loves Nutella?

The crazy munchkin.

This morning at the breakfast table, Ri was licking a spoonful of Nutella after having his pancakes.

Me: Hey, Ri, do you know who else loves Nutella the way you do.

Ri: Yup, Nehru.

SSM and I both stared at each other.

Me, again: Erm. Who?

Ri: (with all his focus on the spoon) Nehru, Ma

Now this was getting really weird. So both SSM and I stopped eating stared at him for a moment. This needed further investigation.

Me: Hey, who exactly is Nehru?

Ri:(with a big sigh) Ma, Nehru, that guy in Sholay

And this was a new level of crazy even for me.

Me: What? Sholay? What was Nehru doing in Sholay"

Ri: He was Amitabh Bachchan.

And that is when it struck me. Because weird strikes the weird.

Me: Do you mean Veeru, Ri?

Ri: Ah yes, right, Veeru"

And then SSM and I had a difficult time controlling our ROFL.

SSM: But Amitabh bachhan was Jai, His friend was Veeru.

Ri: Oh. Okay.

Me: And how do you know that Veeru likes Nutella?"

Ri: Uh, Amitabh Bachhan like Nutella.

Well, really, there was no way I was going to ask for any more explanation to that.

So well, we shall just conclude that Amitabh Bachhan loves Nutella. And, maybe, Nehru loved it too. We shall never know. :|

Sigh! The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, right? Crazy runs in the family!

Why I wasn't blogging.

The image was googled

I know. I haven’t been blogging much. And that is because… okay, so it is a weird sort of a thing that happened. Let me tell you about it in detail.

I was walking around the block one evening when I came across a small diversion that I hadn’t noticed earlier. Curious, I took to the lane and it reached a wall. So a blind lane it was. I turned around to get back to my usual path but it wasn’t there. No. Seriously. It just wasn’t there. I just hit a wall again.

Well, obviously, I panicked. I started shouting for help. HELP! But my voice just echoed in the blocked lane. I frantically started looking around for something. Something. I do not know what. Anything, like stones or waste coke cans that I could throw over the wall and get help, or some explosives that could bring the wall down, or a packet of chips because I was hungry. Well anything could have helped, but there was nothing.

I sat down exasperated. I wished I had carried my mobile phone so that I could call someone, or play ‘two dot’ (My current favourite game) but iguess i just had to wait. After what seemed like hours, I finally heard a slight swishing sound. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I could only hope it wasn’t cockroaches. Katasaridaphobia. Any other creature would have been fine. Luckily, it was another creature.

I realised that the swishing wasn’t coming in from ‘my’ lane. Nope. It was somewhere far away, up in the sky. Initially, I noticed a tiny speck. But as it flew closer, I was sure, it was IT. It. Was. A. Hippogriff. Seriously! No kidding.

It landed in ‘my’ lane and before I could understand I was tossed up in the air and I landed with a thud on its back. I clung on for dear life as it flew away with me.

The flight on the hippogriff was AMAZING. It’s one experience that will stay with me forever. Anyway, we flew over oceans and mountains and lands unheard of. (Mainly because I suck at geography. I am sure, you smart guys, would have heard of them.) And we finally reached what seemed to be a castle.

And I was excited because I thought I would be expected to slay dragons and save the handsome prince, but no, that happened only in fairy tales, apparently.

So I was dropped off, literally, at the gates of the castle and then escorted by men in helmets, not bike helmets, stupid, but the Viking kind of helmets. They took me to the guy, who I guessed was the king because they all bowed down to him. I bowed down too because that seemed appropriate.

He then said in a loud booming voice, “Me, the great Gaster Nomos, the lord of the Culinary, have heard from the messengers far and wide, that you, lady, can bake the best caramel, bread pudding ever created. I. NEED. TO. TASTE. IT.”

And that was it! I was guided to the kitchen that was as large as the Kolkata maidan and I had to start baking the pudding. It was ceremonious as music played and people danced around while I was baking it. I then plated it in a gold plate to serve it to Mr. Nomos. I stood there, tensed, hungry butterflies fluttering in my stomach, as I saw him scoop a bite and place it in his mouth. The music stopped, everyone around was quiet. Even the pins refused to drop, lest they might be heard. My heart stopped beating as he closed his eyes, tasted the pudding and then swallowed it down. He then opened his eyes and laughed. A loud wealthy laugh it was. And with him everyone present started laughing too. He called me over and held me warmly in his arms. The music started… the people danced… there was happiness everywhere.

The next day was spent teaching the chefs the recipe. And the next few day I had a holiday of a lifetime in the most beautiful land ever. I was then flown back on the hippogriff. It was kind to me during our return flight. And well, here I am. Blogging again.

And yeah, I wish all of that was true and laziness was not the only reason for me not blogging. But laziness is what it was. And the damn laziness was so bad that I did not even write a birthday post yesterday. I would kick myself in the butt if I was fit enough to do so.

So well, belated birthday wishes to me. This year will see more fun posts here on my blog. Promise.

Also one thing in the story up there was true. I do make the best caramel, bread pudding in the world. :D

See you soon.

This post is not about tomatoes and bugs!

A tomato truck - amazing things from a holiday

We had a wonderful holiday last year, to Coorg. I just totally missed writing about it here till today. Because I have a bad memory and because I have been having a tough time writing. Also I have got lazier.

But I came across the photographs of the trip today and I remembered that I had meant to write about it. So here we are.

Coorg was great in a lot of ways - Our first family holiday to the southern part of the country, SSM’s first long drive to the hilly terrain… Oh and the crazy, spicy pork. Crazy because it was spicy to the extent that it could kill. Not crazy otherwise. More of a murderer. Crazy murderer.

But, two things in the trip really made the trip worth it’s worth. (Something totally crazy about that sentence too) So, I will talk of those two things specifically here.

We were taking a walk around the resort. It was huge. It was luscious. It was beautiful. It was doing to us what nature’s grandeur always does – mesmerising, rather more than that. We were enjoying the various shades of green and that is when we chanced upon this –

Snake eating snake - Awesomest thing ever!

This awesome snake was eating another snake. I mean, WOW! I think it is the most awesome thing I had ever seen. It was just brilliant to sit there and watch the snake gobble up another. I know that happens, but to see it happening is a sight that will be fondly etched to my mind forever. Ri loved watching it too. Only SSM seemed a little queasy seeing it. He is not particularly fond of snakes. So seeing a snake being eating should have made him happy. But then, he is a little weird.

I wanted to go searching for more snake eating snakes but SSM was already freaked out by the earlier snake and he dragged us to the room - which got us to this distracting sight –

The bed snake :|

Why? Why? Why? Seriously why would anyone do that towel art on our bed? What were they suggesting? So why did they have that, that towel sculpture of the tool on the bed. SSM and I stared at each other for a moment. Ri jumped on the bed and started showering the flowers all over.

Me: (in a hushed voice) I think we are giving out incorrect vibes to the resort people.

SSM: (in a hushed voice) I think you are incorrect and it is not what you think it is.

Me: (in a hushed voice) I think you are blind. It is so obvious.

SSM: (in a hushed voice) Let's just take the hint then.

Really… That was just too much snake for a day. Phew! :D

And one of my best holidays!

An extra picture of a bug because I love you guys for reading this crap.

And I need a holiday soon...!

A normal conversation and a lesson about rules.

SSM: So, how was the flight?

Me: Oh, good. Finished reading an awesome book. I'll tell you about it.

SSM: Alright. And did you eat something good on the flight.

Me: Well, thanks to you, I had to have upma and masala tea.

SSM: Thanks to me? What do you mean, thanks to me?

Me: I asked you to web check me in on seat no 6A!

SSM: So? It wasn't available! What has that got to do anything with you eating upma.

Me: If I was on 6A I would have eaten the grilled chicken with rosemary and caramelised onion sandwich, and a manchow soup.

SSM: So that got over by the time the tray reached you?

Me: No, they still had it!

SSM: So??? Okay, I know where this is going. This is not gonna make any sense. I know it. But tell me anyway.

Me: As a rule I only have the grilled chicken with rosemary and caramelised onion sandwich, and the manchow soup when I am on 6A. Any other seat and I will eat upma and drink masala chai.

SSM: ????

Me: It is a rule. My rule. I live by that rule.

SSM: So even if you feel like not eating upma, you still will?

Me: Yes! That is what rules are for. You follow them.

SSM: Nonsense!

Me: No wonder you are so undisciplined.

SSM: I am sorry we even had this conversation. Lets stop talking for a while.

Me: Okay. But next time remember... 6A.

Pinocchio is not the same. Sigh!

This post is meant to be read only if you are above 18 years of age.

So Kiri, if you are on this post you will close it right now. Alright? Now. Close it NOW! Please, be good.

Okay. That was for my 11-year old niece who never fails to read my blogs. But she is a good girl and I am sure she would have listened and closed this one immediately.

CLOSE IT RIGHT NOW!

So here we are!

***



It is good when you are weird and you have weird friends. because that is what leads to weird conversations. Like this one.






Here is the video ---->














I deleted the link with the baby picture (obviously) but the last picture was to confess that we are not just weird, we are also horrible people who call babies ugly.

Yeah, stop judging us, people!

If you see me without nails, get hold of SSM

I will just post screenshots of a conversation here. That should be enough for you to know the kind of torture I go through.

And he refused to reply after this. He did not even react after he got home that evening.

He looked sad. I would like to think that he was upset about getting me a torture liquid. Or, maybe, he was sad that I figured out that it was a torture liquid.

Either way. I am alive because I did not use it. Ha! (Except that my toe nails are chipped orange)

A memory and a dream. Both unrelated and weird. Because I am fighting a blogger's block.

This post is just a memory flash –

Sourced from the internet.

The first ever audio cassette that I owned as a kid was Mr. India. All the other cassettes belongs to my father or my sister. And then on my 7th birthday, my sister gifted me with Mr. India. Oh, I played it in loop that day and for many more days. I sang. 'bijli ki raani main hu aayi' instead of bijli giraane mai hoon aayi' (They both make sense) and I blushed ever time 'kaante nahi katate... I love you' played because that was almost equal to porn for an innocent seven year old, born in the 80's.

Sourced from the internet. Of course

The first ever video cassette that I owned as a kid was 'Maine Pyaar Kiya'. This time, it was not a gift. I stole it from the local video library. No, I did not go one night, break the glass with a stone, enter in and rob it. That would have been cool. But I just borrowed it and never returned it. (Yeah, I have done that with library books too. Come on, everyone does that with library books.)

I was down with chicken pox as an eleven year old and the only memory that I have of the quarantine is having read Heidi and watching Maine Pyaar Kiya every single day. Every. Single. Day. (The movie. I did not read Heidi every single day. That is not possible for a slow reader like me) I mouthed every dialogue with action and expressions. Even today if ever I come across Maine Pyaar Kiya while shuffling through the television channels, I immediately stop to watch it and my lips move with the dialogues.

Maine Pyaar Kiya remains and will remain my favourite movie ever. And well, Salman… Sigh!

***

The rest of this post is a weird dream (Rarely do I remember a dream but this was so weird and sort of sweet that I could recall it clearly the next morning) -

Nick blowing happy bubbles

Remember Nick? Well, I dreamt that Ri had a fork in his hand and he shove that in Nick’s jar, piercing Nick. So Nick was dying and I see him fly out of the jar towards me. He lands on my palm and I pet him and tell him that he will live.

I put him back in the jar suddenly the room is filled with all sorts of flying fishes and Winnie the Pooh characters. The all start singing a weird song in and extremely high pitched voice. All together.

Suddenly I see Nick coming back to life, swimming. I was happy. He was happy. But then he started growing at an alarming rate. I saw him turn into a merman. A horrible looking merman-red tail and a green moustache. He couldn’t fit into jar anymore. He was struggling to stay inside. Finally the jar shattered and Nick the merman emerged out. The other fishes and characters vanished.

I ran to him and hugged him. I told him that I was so happy he was alive... but that he can’t live with me anymore because I did not have a jar big enough to accommodate him. He had to go back to the sea.

I handed a huge saucepan filled with water to Nick so that he could duck his head into it and breathe. (Yeah, I know the gills need to go in too but the ‘me’ in the dream did not think of it.)

Anyway. I then took him to the sea (to chowpatty :/) and let him go.

I then woke up sweating and fretting about the fact that Nick had always lived in 'aquaguard' water, what if the sea killed him!

***

If you are wondering why I wrote such a random post today, it is because someone told me to just write whatever comes to mind because that is the only way to fight a blogger’s block.

If you are wondering why I wrote two totally unrelated write ups, it is because I was lazy to write them in two different posts.

***

I just feel better today.

No, I am not dating a vampire.

Sourced from the internet. The picture, not the roll.

A few days ago, a colleague at work told me about this incident that happened in the metro. This happened on a weekday morning. The metro was very crowded. Suddenly one woman bit another woman's hand. And by that I mean that she bit her hard enough to leave teeth mark and some blood. True story. Seriously. I asked this colleague about why did she not click a picture. She said three things - 1. photography is not allowed in the metro. 2. The metro was super crowded. 3. I cannot remember.

But she is a nice girl so I will believe her and so should you.

This incident really shocked me. I kept wondering what could have possible caused a woman to bite another.

Anyway, with time I forgot about this incident.

Then today something happened that made me remember it again.

I am on a diet. Okay, I am lying. But I do try to be on a diet. But some edible products are a home to Satan as we know. Rolls, are one them. They just tempt you to hell.

This colleague who sits next to me had ordered a chicken roll today. He offered to share it with me and I couldn't refuse. Satan, remember?

So I split the roll in halves and took the top half for my self. Which means, I did not have the butter paper that protects the roll, protecting my half of the roll.

I took a deep breath till the aroma of the roll hit my head, closed my eyes, opened my mouth wide and sank my teeth in that hell of a roll.

When I opened my eyes, I saw people at my work place staring at me with hungry eyes. (Some might mistake that look for disgust, but I am sure it was a look of hunger and crave)

And then I noticed that the contents of the roll had spilled from the other end all over my kurta. Yes, the front of my kurta was stained with chicken and juices and oil.

I looked at the people again and this time I noticed, it was disgust written all over their face.

I rushed to the washroom and tried to wipe the stains off.

Suddenly a lady from another department walked into the washroom. She stared at me vigorously scrubbing my kurta with a wet washcloth and said, "wow you smell like, erm..." "Like roll", I completed her sentence. She smiled and said "yes". I replied, "erm, thanks. But I would really not appreciate if you bite me." She gave me a weird look and walked out of the washroom. Without peeing.

But what I said had freaked me out too. The metro incident mentioned above suddenly flashed back in my mind and I just knew why that woman had been the other woman.

After ages I was scared to enter the metro. (The last time was after watching the movie Kahani.) I was seriously worried about being bitten by the co commuters who were traveling back home after a long day at work. Hungry.

Luckily the metro was not too crowded and I managed to stand in a corner with my backpack strapped to my front to block as much of the aroma as I could.

Seriously, I smelled so good that I was surprised that I did not bite myself.

Anyway. After this I just want SSM to know that if ever he finds bite marks on me, he is not supposed to assume that I am cheating on him and dating a vampire.

No, I am not dating a vampire. I AM JUST A LOUSY EATER.

If there is any sort of romance involved, it is purely between the Bengali bhodrolok and the roll. The Satan.

And I shall finally eat mete chorchori tonight.

I have been having this insatiable craving for mete chorchori for the longest time now. Like for ever, Since 20^th June 2015.

I have also been through crazy highs and lows for a real long time now. More lows than highs.

What with days of not wanting to get out of bed, to days of browsing through Pinterest all day long trying to cheer myself up with pictures of chocolate cakes, glazed chicken and pretty quilts, life has been pretty crazy.

Unfulfilled craving for mete chorchori has just been adding to my woes.

Hence yesterday on our way back, I had been pretty grumpy.

SSM: What happened?

Me: Nothing.

SSM: Okay. (Continues driving)

(Silence for some time as I grumble in my head about how SSM never probes me after I say ‘nothing’)

Me: So remember, how on 20^th of June I had told you that I am craving for mete chorchori and you had said that you get the best mete chorchori only in North Kolkata and you shall get it for me. It has been ages since we have had that conversation. I guess this is what nine years of being married does to people.

SSM: Eight years. Seven and a half, actually.

Me: What?

SSM: We have been married for seven and a half years.

Me: Of course. Seven and a half. I remember. But that is not the point. Just because of your fixation for North Kolkata, I am starving to death.

(I notice SSM roll his eyes at that.)

Later that evening at home.

SSM: Why do you have dark circles around your eyes?

Me: Because I haven’t eaten mete chorchori for ages.

My Ma-in-law (she is a sweetheart) on hearing our conversation, laughed, and promised that she would be getting mete and cooking chorchori for me today evening.

And that is how I get mete chorchori for dinner tonight. :|

 ***

(I shall vote this as my most random post ever. But I am ecstatic since morning just thinking about dinner.)

***

Update: Mete dinner last night was the best dinner ever.

The rising, again.

This is a picture of my diary and not related to this post. I just wanted to flaunt it.

I was on my way back from work that day. I had almost reached home when SSM called me and asked me to wait since he was just around the corner.

I am glad he did that, otherwise I would have missed the most spectacular moment/vision of my life.

I was standing there and my eyes fell on some trash lying in a corner for the street. There was this plastic bag and suddenly it began to move. I knew what it was. I started recording it. Here is the video. Do watch it before you proceed.

Suddenly I realised that SSM was standing right behind me and I stopped recording. He was giving me a very weird look. (sometimes I really do not understand the looks he gives.)

SSM: Tell me, please, tell me that you have an extremely valid reason for video recording a pile of trash...

Me: That is no pile of trash... That's... That is the Dark Lord rising... again.

SSM: (taking a deep breath) You need to explain. You have been standing here recording trash, people have been stopping and staring trying to figure out what you are doing. Are you crazy?

Me: (taking a deep breath too) Did you not notice that plastic packet move? The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort is rising again!

SSM: There is nothing moving there! Look! Nothing!

Me: Well, obviously it wouldn't move for you, you muggle!

SSM: Youv'e got Voldemort stuck in you head, weirdo!

Me: No, that would make me Quirinus Quirrell.

SSM: God! Save me!

Me: Even God can't save you if HE rises again. 

SSM: Oh crap!

Me: Listen, this is important. If Lord Voldemort does rise... I will have to go... Okay. You get that, right? You just take good care of Ri, alright. I will come back and take Ri with me when he is eleven.


SSM stared at me for a moment and then he just shook his head and walked away. I wonder why he asked me to wait if he just had to walk away. Weird guy! And I really hope that he starts taking important things, like Voldemort, seriously.

Introducing Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington aka Nearly Finless Nick

Ri and I had gone shopping together last weekend. SSM was going to pick us up on his way back from the hospital where my Mother - in - law was admitted. (She is fine now, thanks for asking)

This meant that Ri and I had ample time to shop without being hurried up. So all the shopping from the grocery list was done and more and then we went to the alley where they sell fish and meat. Apparently they also sell live fishes and there, in one of the tanks, floating in a plastic pouch with water just enough to cover him, was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington in a tiny pouch

I immediately felt sorry for him and Ri fell in love with him. So we had no option but to adopt him. After all he deserved better than that tiny pouch. See how sad he looks in there. He also seemed to have a rip in his fin. (Though the guy at the store did not agree to that bit about the rip and insisted that the fin is perfect and this is how it look, I refused to believe them.)

When SSM came to pick us up and saw Nick in the pouch his immediate reaction was - that fish is not going to live till we get home. And I said, do not call him that fish. He has got a name - call him Sir Nicolas or Nick. Though I do not think that you deserve to call him Nick. You are not on first name basis with him yet. As a reaction, SSM rolled his eyes, which Ri and I were only happy to ignore.

We also had a conversation that reminded me of this post.

At home, in the jar - Nick is as happy as he can be. He loves it there. He loves playing around the roots of the money plant there. He also goes and sits on a root that forms a loop in there. And goes around it.

See how he get into the root loop and comes out from the other side. That is his favourite play.

SSM said that fighter fishes react violently when they see their own reflection in a mirror. I told him that Nick is no usual fighter. He is a calm happy fish and that SSM should not even try to agitate him with a mirror.

But SSM being SSM, he did get a mirror and kept showing it to Nick. And. Nick. Did. Not. React. Ha!

See how happy he is and how lovely his colour is.

SSM then said that Nick is either blind or loony. And I told SSM that if there is anyone loony in this house, it is him... so he better not say a word against Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.

I have reasons to believe that I am a vampire

The spice blood tea

My bestie gave me a few packets of 'spiced tea for the body and soul'. It was supposed to have spices (according to the picture on the packet) that would make your body and soul feel good (is what I assume from the name.)

When I drowned the tea bag in a cup of hot water... the colour started changing to a bright blood red. Just like when you stab someone in a swimming pool and pool slowly starts turning red... beautifully... just like that...

Everyone around me cringed at the sight but I... I touched the rim of the cup to my lips and sipped into that elixir with utmost satisfaction and sensual pleasure. It was awesome and all throughout I kept imagining that it was a cup of unicorn blood. This definitely did me good for the body and the soul.

***

This has happened once before, when I have thoroughly enjoyed gobbling something that looked extremely grotesque.

The blood and spleen pudding

***

And hence, now I have reasons to believe that I am a vampire.

I bedazzled my bathroom... and a revelation about the bathroom ghost.

Bedazzling set

Ri, for his birthday, got this box of ‘bedazzle the creepy crawlies’ from his cousins. I was obviously thrilled because bedazzling is awesome. It is the next best thing to watching an elephant poop. 

Seriously.  We took Ri to a circus last week and the elephant, while playing cricket just pooped in the ring. That was probably the most fascinating thing I had watched in the longest time. It was the first time that I saw an elephant poop and I was amazed. Anyway, this post is not about elephant poo. This is about bedazzling.

So we I got bedazzling the creepy things over the weekend and they looked lovely. I mean, who does not like giant lizards and geckos? And then when bedazzled with beads and gems and sparkly bits, they are irresistible.

Bedazzled lizard!

Once I was done with all the glitter, I stuck them in the bathroom. Well, that was not it. These sparkly bits came on tiny square sticker paper and had a lovely sparkly boundary. They looked so lovely that I did not have the heart to throw them away. So I peeled them off and stuck them in the bathroom as well.

The edges of the sparkly squares up on my bathroom walls. They do sparkle but that is not visible in this photograph.

So now I have the most amazing bedazzled bathroom in the world.

What was not amazing about all of this was that there was no reaction about the bathroom from SSM.

Me: Haven’t you peed all day today?

SSM: I have! Why?

Me: Don’t you look around you when you pee?

SSM: Erm… I usually do not, but I have noticed all the weird things you have stuck around.

Me: Why haven’t you reacted then?

SSM: (Shrugs) I did not know how to react.

Me: HOW THE HELL WILL I WRITE BLOG POSTS IF YOU STOP REACTING?

SSM walks away humming Bunty aur Bubly.

So basically SSM has become really boring.

But then something really absurd happened...

Remember my house ghost? The one who was in the kitchen and then in the bathroom? Well, apparently he does not seem to like the bedazzling much either. He has walked out of the bathroom.

And this is how I am sure about it:

Ri has yhis hand-me-down computer from his cousin. This means that this computer is old, really old. It is over ten years old.

Ri hadn’t played with it for a while and hence when Ri expressed his desire to play with it I had to change its batteries. As soon as I did that and pressed the ‘On’ key, the computer started talking in Spanish! (or what I thought was Spanish)! 

I have seen my niece play with this computer for years. I have seen Ri play with it for almost four years now. THE DAMN THING HAS NEVER SPOKEN IN SPANISH OR ANY LANGUAGE OTHER THAN ENGLISH.

I grabbed the computer and started checking all the keys, there was no key or button anywhere on that computer that indicated language or change language. No. This was just plain weird behaviour. It was funny that this should have happened on the day I bedazzled the bathroom. That is how I realised that it was the ghost. My ghost was now haunting the computer. I do not know what else would he do next. 

But At least we now know that the ghost is Spanish (or whatever that language is).So I have enrolled for online Spanish classes. It is important.

I changed the placement of the batteries this time and the computer got back to English. It hasn't spoken in Spanish since then. Maybe it will when I start talking Spanish.

Apparently everything that I have ever known was untrue... except about Anandi Gopal Joshi.

SSM: You know what… I just happened to read somewhere that Ajay Devgan is a Punjabi.

Me: Huh? That is a lie.

SSM: What the hell. All these years you've convincingly told me that Ajay Devgan is a Maharashtrian and I believed you.

Me: Yup. He is a Maharashtrian. Remember how I've always said it is देवगण . The 'ण' makes him a Maharashtrian. No doubt about that.

SSM: What crap.

Me: What? Remember he also had a Maharashtrian wedding

SSM: *Sighs* You know what, I think I should check all the other ‘information’ that you've fed me with, about celebrities.

(SSM going clickity click on the laptop.)

SSM: And I was right. Sunidhi Chauhan is not a Maharashtrian either.

Me: THAT is bull shit. She is. Oh my God she is. She is Sunidhi चव्हाण .

SSM: Seriously, pronouncing a name with a Maharashtrian accent does not make someone a Maharashtrian. And what is this whole deal about trying to prove that everyone is a Maharashtrian?

Me: I am not trying to prove anything. I do not crib when you go on and on trying to prove that everything originated from Bengal.

SSM: I do not. I state facts.

Me: Kadambini Ganguly is not the first female doctor of India.... IT. IS. ANANDI GOPAL JOSHI. Get your facts right, mister!

SSM: I am not going through THAT again.

Me: And I am not the one trying to prove that everyone is a Maharashtrian. I was the one to inform you that Kirron Kher is a Bengali, remember?

SSM: Brilliant. Now let me check that as well… Aaand I should have guessed. She is not a Bengali. She is a Punjabi.

Me: WTF the internet is lying. She is Kirron with an ‘o’ If she was anything but a Bengali, she would be Kiran not Kirron!

SSM: Erm... She was born, Kiran.

Me: She also looks so Bengali!

SSM: *Rolls eyes*

Me: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD!

SSM: What the hell is wrong with YOU!

Me: Let us start talking about Anandi Gopal and Kadambini Ganguly again.

SSM walks away.

I can't think of a title for this.

This is probably the most nonsense post ever written in the history of blogging.

***

SSM and I go to drop Ri to school every morning and on our way I come across this broken dilapidated carving of Lord Shiva on wall; somewhere near the market place.

I am sure this was a piece of art once upon a time

This carving has been intriguing me for a long time, rather, nagging me. Because everytime I see it I get this feeling that it resembles someone and I can’t figure out whom. You know, it is that annoying, irritating feeling - where you can’t place your finger on something and it keeps screeching at the back of your head wanting you to tear your hair apart – that feeling.

So that has been going on for long.

***

You know how people have comfort songs, songs that they listen to when they feel low and not too great about their lives. I too have a comfort song – Yeh jo thode se paise from the movie Papa kehte hai.  While I love the song, the picturisation (Microsoft gives me a red underline on the word ‘picturisation’ and does not give me spelling suggestion. So I am not sure if the spelling is incorrect. I will leave it as it is) of the song always soothes me. I always feel thankful for my existing life and happy that I did not decide to venture into Bollywood.

***

So last week as I was watching the song on Youtube the realisation dawned upon me that the reason why that Lord Shiva carving seemed familiar was because the lips exactly resembled that of Mayuri Kango’s lips. 

See... same lips

Serious. No kidding. Check it for yourself. Are they not the exact same lips. The person who carved this Shiva, had to be a fan of Mayuri Kango. I was so impressed. I have total respect for the guy who did this awesome carving. What a fan!

And I finally got freed from that nagging irritation of trying to find who did the Lord Shiva resemble.

***

PS: This post is not meant to offend any Lord Shiva worshippers (including myself) or Mayuri Kango's fans (including myself).

Realisation: I can really write crap when I am upset.

The 100th post and I have nothing to write.

Don't ask me why I have black ink on my thumbs. It will not make any sense.

This is my 100^th post and I don’t know what to write. 100 is huge; I wanted it to be super and then I have been at a loss about what to write.

My initial thought was to write a quilting post.

The first time ever that I heard about blogging was when I started searching the internet for quilting and sewing project, so it kind of seemed fair.

And then last month my Aunt (mother's sister), who made me fall in love with quilting, (I called her Mummy, everyone called her Mummy) passed away. Mummy was 86 and no, she was not old. She was a quilter and the best I have known. While I was probably her most pampered niece, the best gift that she ever gave me was quilting.

Yes, she was my inspiration for quilting. Seeing her quilt and seeing her quilts as a child was what drew me to this wonderful art of quilting. She was the only one in the family, I could discuss quilts with. Our last conversation too had been about the beauty of traditional Log Cabin quilts and how it was her favourite pattern.

 And so, her death brought in a huge void into my life. Until… Untill I realised that a quilter never dies.

Made by Mummy

I wake up each morning and there is the appliqué wall hanging that Mummy made, hanging on my bathroom door.

I open Ri’s cupboard to get him dressed and there is the quilted organiser that she gave me when Ri was born.

I get into the car and there is the lovely Log Cabin quilt she made that I use as a lap quilt every time the car gets cold. (That is almost all the time.)

Yes,  a quilter never dies. She lives through her art and the love that she has gifted you all the while. I know it is surreal, but she does live on.

This is the last wall hanging she made.

The beautiful trapunto quilting

***

Talking of surreal, I realised that I haven’t updated you guys about this story:

Remember the kitchen ghost, well, he seems to have moved in to my bathroom. And he has got friendlier and actually says “Hello” to me every time I am done peeing.

The first time I heard that deep hollow ‘hello’, almost in my ear, I must admit, I was pretty startled. I was brushing my teeth and I almost swallowed the toothpaste when I heard it.

The second time I heard him, it was past mid night. I opened the door; woke SSM up and asked if he heard anyone say ‘hello’. He grunted something which sounded like ‘Oh you are so kind’ and I felt really happy. I said thank you and went of to sleep. When I reminded him the next morning about how kind I was, he said that he had asked ‘are you out of your mind?’ (I don’t think he remembers. people usually do not remember what they say in their sleep.)

The next time, I was quite sure that it was my kitchen ghost because I hadn't felt his presence around the kitchen for a long time. And so, I started diligently replying to his greeting.

And then one day this happened.

Me: (walking out of the bathroom, turning back toward the bathroom) Hey there, hello to you too!

SSM: Erm… What was that?

Me: What?

SSM: I just heard you talk to… no one… in the bathroom.

Me: Oh, that. That is not no one. I was exchanging pleasantries with the bathroom ghost.

SSM: (after taking a deep breath and a long pause) You might want to explain.

Me: There is nothing to explain. There is this really nice ghost in the bathroom who, I think is in love with me, and says hello to me in a really sexy baritone. So I just think it is polite to reply.

SSM: Oh my God, you have completely lost it this time.

Me: What? No! Serious! He does. It is true.

A few days later SSM and I were in the bathroom together. (Groan, No! You perverts! He had done peeing and I had entered the bathroom to brush) And that is when the ghost greeted me again.

Me: (all excited) There! There! Did you hear that. Did you hear the ghost say ‘hello’.

SSM: Yes. Yes. I did. That… your ghost…is not a ghost. There is a problem in the cistern. It makes that sound few seconds after you've flushed. Did you not realise that all this while.

Me: That is a lie! Oh dear. The poor ghost lives in the cistern.

SSM: NO! There is no ghost. It is the sound the cistern makes. STOP IMAGINING THINGS!

Me: YOU ARE JUST JEALOUS THAT THE GHOST HAS A CRUSH ON ME! DAMN YOU!

SSM sighed and left. I am at peace with my ghost. I have kept this ghost stories book in the bathroom for him to read. Staying in the cistern can be quite boring. I also read it aloud to him some times. I think that makes him happy. His ‘hello’ definitely seems happier.

***

And talking about ghosts, I have to tell you guys that I have been extremely impressed by Facebook. Ever since I realised that Facebook can sense the presence of ghosts and spirits, my respect for Facebook has gone up drastically.

 I mean who could have thought that while I was trying to upload this picture on Facebook, it would actually ask me to tag a ghost in a banyan tree. Super impressed! I only wish it had done a face recognition and identified the ghost for me too. Tagging would have been easier. So I just ended up tagging it as Gechho Bhoot.

***

And so, since this is supposed to be my 100^th post, and I really had nothing much to write, I will just post this video of  Ri singing a song from the movie 'Patalghar'. I wish my blog a happy 100^th post.

And thank you, all my readers for loyally reading this crappy blog and showering so much love. I really love you all, much more than I love ghosts. (Okay, that last bit is a lie, but I do love you a lot)

People in the metro are weird

Kolkata metro

My friend, DD and I entered the metro; I noticed a vacant seat; I pushed a couple of people aside and ran towards it; I GOT THE SEAT.

That is not what this post is about. I was just happy about getting the seat. That does not usually happen and I really wanted to mention it here. So that is that. Done.

This post is about the conversation that followed between DD and I. (DD did not get a seat, ha. She was standing there in front of me leaning against the pole. So we had to speak quite aloud to converse.)

DD: That was crazy the way you ran to grab the seat.

Me: A.W.E.S.O.M.E. Awesome is the word. It was awesome the way I got the seat.

DD: CRAZY. By the way, why do you flare your nostril when you are excited.

Me: You mean like this? (flaring my nostrils)

DD: Yeah, why do you do that.

Me: I guess I am related to dragons. I guess... I am a dragon.

DD: No, I am a dragon. look I have dragon teeth. (She twists up her mouth to show me her teeth)

Me: No way, girl. Those are vampire teeth. Totally vampire.

DD: No. I don't like vampire.

Me: Doesn't matter. You are a vampire. I don't like vampires either. I prefer zombies.

DD: WTF! Vampires and zombies are not even related. They don't fall in the same category. That is not even a comparison.

Me: They of course are! They are all related. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, dybbuks... they are all related. And that is irrelevant. You are a vampire and I am a dragon. AND THAT IS COOL.

Then we suddenly realised that people in the metro were giving us weird looks.

I know they were doing that because I shoved few people to get my vacant seat.  But hey, come on, I do deserve a seat once in a while. People in the metro can be really weird at times.

***

PS: I just realised that this is my 99th blog post. Which means my next post has to be really special... Gosh, that is a lot of pressure!

I fear he is growing up too soon

Sleep time is usually a challenge because there are a lot of hurdles to cross there - conversation about school, a story, few songs, some Chhota Bheem talks...

And then this is what happened tonight:

Ri: Mama, S Aunty's car wheel has broken down. I have told her that my ma can make wheels. You will make a wheel for her on your sewing machine tomorrow.

Mama: (feeling super happy about the confidence Ri shows in her sewing capabilities) hmm, I will make it. (And then getting impatient to finish all the exciting talk before sleep talk so that he sleeps quickly) Hey Ri, tomorrow is Saturday. Yipeeeee! It's a holiday. What do we plan for tomorrow, Ri. You want to do some sewing with mama. We will read a lot of books, alright. And hey, we haven't made cake for a long time. Let's make a chocolate cake tomorrow. And let's build new Lego houses. (Pause for a breath.)

Ri: Mama, why are you talking so much? Sleep! (Turns to a side and goes off to sleep)

I have new guppies and they love Salman Khan.

I was at Shantiniketan last weekend.

No, that is not a big deal, because Santiniketan is the place where I lived in my past life and had a romantic encounter with a snake charmer who later strangled me with silk cord because his snakes refused to strangle me… 

Yeah, that was crap.

But I keep going to Shantiniketan because I love the place. So that really is not the big deal.

This time we also visited Lipi Di. (Now, that is a big deal.) Now, if you have visited Shantiniken and not visited Lipi Biswas, you have really missed something. So the next paragraph, I shall write a bit about her because she is a bundle of awesomeness.

Lipi Biswas's Pottery Studio (Picture taken from the internet)

Lipi Biswas is a potter who lives amongst nature. Her home is ecologically built by her and her husband, Bidyut Roy who is an artist. Lipi Di has her studio in Shantiniketan and she makes beautiful ceramic pottery. You can know more about her here and here. And next time that you are in Shantiniketan, do visit her.

So while we were at Lipi Di’s place enjoying some lovely coffee, She asked Ri if he wanted some guppies. (Guppies are tiny colourful fishes.) Before Ri could say a thing, I jumped and said, “of course he wants some guppies.” 

SSM gave me a glare almost instantly. It is amazing how instantly his reflexes work some times. It is even more amazing how I choose to ignore them. The only reaction that Ri had was – Do the guppies eat ants – which meant that he totally wanted the guppies as well.

But SSM started being difficult just then. Statements such as these started flowing out of his mouth: We have no place to keep guppies… They are in natural environment here – let them be… We already have birds… The guppies will die by the time we reach Kolkata…

Lipi di was sweet enough to say that the guppies do not need much space and they can stay easily in a jar. That was all I wanted.

I had decided by then that I may leave SSM behind but the guppies go with me. (SSM drives the car so I couldn’t possibly leave him behind as much as it was tempting at that moment)

When Lipi di left us for a moment, SSM glared back.

“Are you mad?” he asked. I wonder why he keeps asking me that all the time.

“We take the guppies or I take a billy goat from one of the villagers back home. You decide” I hissed. (I half hoped that he would agree on the billy goat)

“Are you mad?” he asked AGAIN. It is like his mantra.

“Listen, no one says no to free guppies… or free anything” I hissed again. (Wow, I have been hissing quite a bit. I am now starting to believe in the snake charmer crap I wrote in the beginning.)

“The fishes will die. How on earth do you think they will survive all the way to Kolkata?” SSM asked.

“They will be fine. I will take them to Kolkata alive.” I replied

“They need oxygen and vitamins and blue and you need to change their water regularly. It is a hassle. I know; I have had fishes.” SSM argued. (It was a one sided argument because nothing that he said in that statement made any sense to me.)

“Look, a billy goat!” I pointed out.

He replied with something that sounded like a groan confused with a grunt.

So, finally, Lipi di gave us thirteen guppies; in a tiny bottle; and they looked super happy.

Guppies in a desi daaru bottle

Ri was super happy too. We made a plan to build an ant farm in a jar to feed the fishes.

I was super happy because the guppies and Ri were happy.

SSM was the only one super upset. He should have just agreed to the billy goat offer.

SSM made a final feeble attempt. He said, “Imagine how disturbing it will be when we eat fishes as we watch the fishes”

“I agree”, I said “We should have a code word every time we mention that we want to eat fishes so that we do not cause trauma to the guppies”

SSM gave up.

The guppies enjoyed journey back to Kolkata. They seemed extra happy every time a Salman Khan song played on the car stereo. They swam like crazy then, and THAT moment created the special bond between me and the guppies.

Guppies in the car enjoying the ride and dancing to Salman Khan songs

They reached Kolkata, alive. Ha! To SSM.

I placed them in two glass jugs. I then added some money plant twig to the jar and shouted aloud loud – the plant is to give you oxygen and food, my little ones – loud enough for SSM to hear.

SSM shouted back – two more days and they will be dead. (They are still alive and kicking swimming.)

Look at them - playing 'let's strangle each other with the roots' (Okay, Now I totally believe that snake charmer strangling me, crap)

In the jar

The same evening at dinner,

Me: The dead swimmer

SSM: What?

Me: The dead swimmer – that is the code

SSM: Code for what?

Me: Code for whenever we want to eat fish, so that the guppies don’t know that we are eating fish.

SSM just walked off from the table then. I have a feeling he did not enjoy his dinner much.

***

PS: The guppies love ants.

*** Since SSM has jinxed the life of my guppies so much, I am going to use this post as one of those spam campaigns that run on social media these days. So all you need to do is leave a comment on this post to give life to the guppies. Each comment on this post will give an extended life of two months to each guppy.