The Friday Five: Totally Wasted

After stuffing myself to the gills during Christmas, I went back to college and promptly resumed doing nothing. As always, nothing happens, and this is why you, beloved reader, are being treated to a monologue on how I waste my time, courtesy Friday Five. You can thank me later. And read carefully, I will ask questions at the end. (This is how our teachers start a class.)

1. What is your biggest waste of time in your home?

My textbooks*. I hit the books the minute I get home, and keep at it until I take a shower. I get back to the books before my hair dries, and stay with them until dinnertime. I check my email (you have no new messages), and return to wrestling with the textbooks, until I need toothpicks to keep my eyes open. The trouble with this is, the bigger ones hit me back, and all of them weigh more than I do. And yesterday I found out I was actually supposed to open them and read, not keep bashing them. Ah, woe is me!

2. When at work, what is the activity that you find wastes the most time?

Classes. They just want to protect the lecture halls from becoming termite food, and we provide the perfect solution.

3. When getting busy with a date or significant other, what ritual could you do without?

The 'date' or the 'significant other' not showing up. Never have either of them presented themselves before me. *sigh*

4. What is the biggest waste of time on the Internet?

The Internet is not a waste of time. And StumbleUpon is not addictive.


5. What do you do at a restaurant to waste time when waiting for your meal?
That is what cell phones are for, if friends are unavailable. At the college canteen (eating there is the easiest way to poison yourself), a commentary about the varying expressions of pain on the other patrons' faces is called for, until our meal arrives and we make our own faces. If we are at some swanky place (at the expense of some individual unlucky enough to be born, and thus, have a birthday) and we don't get a table, a graphic description of the vaginal hysterectomy we saw that day (or many years previously) in a loud voice does the trick. After we have ordered our meal (an hour long process, involving much name calling and arguing), we consider it our duty to remind the sponsor about the complex process known as ageing, and the diseases associated with it. It is soon followed by someone (there is always somebody who does this) remarking that if we went around to the back, we would see our waiter energetically pursuing a chicken, which is the prompt for the others to make similar imbecile comments about the waiter venturing out to sea with a fishing line or sacrificing goats. We continue in this line, until the smells from the next table reach us, and all of us practise breathing exercises. Pictures of the 'Birthday Grandpa/Grandma' and their 'friends' in different crazy poses are snapped, and then, having nothing else to do, we start telling jokes, with punchlines like, 'he wanted to see the butter fly'. In the ensuing uproar, the rest of the patrons walk out giving us dirty looks, and the waiters ask us to leave the premises. We refuse to leave on empty stomachs, and we are served our food in record time.

Ooh, Arch has a birthday in a couple of weeks. Yay! On second thoughts, I think we may have run out of restaurants where we don't have a lifetime ban.

Those of you who did not die of sleep apnoea, answer this: Why did the boy throw his toast out the window?

God, I am SO funny.

*Lucky for me my Mom does not read my blog. Neither does the rest of the world, but that is beside the point.

When Darkness Falls

Midnight hour.
The clock struck twelve.

Twelve (who was the Empire in disguise) struck back, and the fight that ensued is still talked about by the hallway. Unsurprisingly, neither The Clock nor Twelve noticed a being stealthily sneaking into the house through the window.

The dog (the bitch!) exhibited very curious behaviour that night. It ran away with the hot dog next door, never to be heard of again.

Adorable Pancreas (AP) woke up clutching her chest. She had had Garlic Chicken (GC) for dinner, and it was now burning her heart. AP wanted to sleep. GC did not like her plans. And her heart was becoming crisper. AP decided to throw cold water on GC's plans, and got up. Suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the wall and fell upon AP. Before she could scream, the shadow had clamped her mouth shut. And screamed and withdrew its hand.

AP's burning heart broke speed records. She reached for the trusty torch which lived under her pillow, and managed to turn its bright beam onto her assailant's face. AP screamed. Dracula screamed louder. The torch fell to the ground and died an untimely death. AP switched on the light.

It was all a GC-induced dream.

I am scared of vampires. And things that go bump in the night. But vampires, most of all. I can deny their existence in the daytime. But sometimes, I believe in as many as six impossible things once the lights are out.

Thus, I find myself thinking about Vlad a lot. Especially at night. And then it hit me. The Impaler is Pale!

This should be impossible, but then, the lights were switched off. I turned it over in my mind, and when it was done to a golden brown colour, the solution came to me. AIDS!

The virus is transmitted through infected blood, but it has to be transfused. Undead physiology is probably very different from ours, so drinking blood probably could transmit the infection.

To be honest, it could be cancer, but I'm placing my bets on AIDS, and I shall now tell you why.

*He is pale. But his diet consists exclusively of blood. So his being anaemic is a little hard to digest. If anything, he should have a ruddy complexion. Iron overload, haemochromatomosis, bronze diabetes, yes. Anaemia? Hell, no. Phir kyon?

*He looks emaciated and cachexic. But he doesn't have that dying look in his eye. If anything, he has a wicked gleam in his eye. Of course, that is one of the occupational hazards of becoming a vampire.

*He has definitely had exposure. Contrary to popular belief, Rock Hudson *drool* required blood transfusions after a close enounter of the blood kind with good ol' Dracs. Vlad liked his taste so much he flew down to Pennsylvania all the way from Transylvania three times a week to drink Hudson. And you know the rest. May his soul rest in peace, although I doubt it.

*Unprotected blood meals. As far as I know, he does not screenthe blood for HIV, syphilis, malaria and the others. The technical problems would be enough to discourage him, even if he were to consider ruling out infections. Would you give him a sample so he could test your blood before attacking you?

Now you know. All I can tell you is, protect yourself. With garlic. And wolfsbane.

Coming soon, If pink is the new black, should I do a Tonks?

4th day – Birla Mandir, Golconda Fort, Charminar

Stop mooning about day 1. I’ll do it when I want to.

Most of the day was spent sightseeing. The first sight we went to see was the Birla Mandir, a (supposedly) beautiful temple dedicated to the goddess Lakshmi, if I’m not mistaken. Gold (yeah, aurum) and marble (mere calcium carbonate), apparently. I didn’t see anything remotely like gold, but the marble part is true. We didn’t see any structure that wasn’t made of marble. Prayer was the last thing on our minds. Who would feel like praying after climbing up millions of steps, then depositing our cell phones and cameras with someone who looked like he couldn't wait to pawn them, then clambering up another million steps, only to be met by a surly (and burly) security guard carrying an unfriendly rifle?

The sanctum sanctorum wasn’t as well-defined as it is in our mallu temples. We stood for an hour in the queue to get a peep at the deity, who was also made of marble. The view was amazing, although it was sadly lacking in greenery. Views (in my book) should feature lots of green stuff; beautiful buildings and huge artificial lakes are optional. At the end of the queue the priest touched a crown to our heads (silver, not gold), and we shuffled out.

The next problem was, we couldn’t find the exit. Asking the gun-wielding guard wasn’t a good idea (his expression wasn't very encouraging). I heard a very short lady dressed in a weird dress (a kameez, a dupatta and an ugly full skirt) ask him for directions to the exit, and our minds thanked her, while wondering about her odd attire. We began to follow her, and I couldn’t help remarking, ‘Ithu enthu vesham?’ [What sort of an outfit is that?] and other comments about her ridiculous fashion sense. (Bad habit, I know. People's weird clothes always arouse my scorn. Not that my clothes are perfect. But, you know. Yeah.) It was about 5 seconds later that she turned round and told her companions (who were walking behind us) ‘Itha purathekkulla vazhi’ [this is the way out] in fluent Thirontharam Malayalam.I think I passed out, because the next thing I remember is waiting on the roadside for our bus.

A few of the girls got mehendi designs on their palms, but it turned out to be some kinda foul-smelling ink. Now I consider the herbal smell of mehendi to be one of its star attractions, so, no. Some of the guys got ‘tattooed’ too. Next stop, Golconda Fort.

We bought water melon on the way to the fort. Mmm…

The fort is best admired at night, but that was obviously out of the question. It was built on a hill, from above downwards. The king who lived there had 360 wives (and 360 mothers-in-law, who he probably executed), according to the nasal tour guide (some relative of Himesh Reshammiya, no doubt, although he didn’t acknowledge the relationship). We climbed and climbed and climbed, accompanied by the weirdo, who gave us remarkably stupid info regarding the fort, the king, his wives, his army, his minister and life in general. I understood every single word he said, but put together it didn’t make any sense. He should have spoken in Hindi, instead of doing horrible things to English. *shudder*

The highest I climbed was only slightly below the topmost part of the fort. The wind was windy, and the heat was less hot. The view was totally awesome, but again, no green. Andhra Pradesh is one desolate place. If you're from AP, come to Kerala. You'll know what I mean when I say I missed the greenery.

The long climb down was made easier by my sandals losing a vital connection, thus maintaining constant direct contact between my right foot and the stone steps. The plantar surface of my toes had attained a beautiful erythematous appearance by the time I reached the bus. I also needed a crutch, but couldn't find one. Ow!

At the entrance of the fort, I saw a foreigner guy standing in the portico, apparently listening to his guide clapping his hands and moving towards the sound. Poor blind guy, I thought, noting his walking stick and dark glasses. Well, it turned out he was getting a taste of the acoustics there. I tried clapping in the middle of the courtyard, and could hear it resonate weirdly. That was an unexpected cool.

Charminar was a beautiful dancer with whom the king held secret liaisons with, in spite of having 360 wives (information courtesy afore-mentioned guide). Reliable sources say different. I’m having serious doubts regarding the accuracy of his other statements.

The climb up the Charminar’s minaret was markedly unpleasant. I’ve always hated narrow spiral staircases. And the view from the top of the tower was no consolation. It sucked. Plus John had found it necessary to proclaim to the world that he loves Michelle by inscribing it on the walls. John, and a lot of other irresponsible creeps who consider historical monuments to be their personal notice board.

The climb down was even worse. Fortunately, I didn’t trip over the broken strap (remember my broken shoe?) and die an ignominious death. The Charminar area has a very famous bangle market, and we decided to check the validity of the statement. It was more than true, and everyone ended up buying a lot of bangles, except for me. I was more concerned with finding a shoe store. I found one, and walked away a lot taller. :)

By then, we were starving, and decided to try the kebab place we had seen on our way to the Charminar. The kebab was excellent, and the prices were very reasonable. Yum!

Another round of shopping, this time in the city (same place whose delights we hadn’t fully discovered the previous day) and I missed a whole lot of bargains. No words can express my disappointment at that. :(

We skipped dinner, and saw Guru instead. We got back to the room around midnight, and began packing. I stuffed everything into my bag, giving it odd bulges in places. The I found that I had packed my toothbrush at the very bottom, and had to take everything out and do it all over again. I somehow got it done by one, and then, off to Never Never Land. I was too tired to do anything else. Going without dinner isn’t very energising.

Hyderabad trip - Day 2

My trip to Hyderabad. Day 1 was spent languishing in the train. And most of day 2 too. I’ll tell you about it later.

We arrived at Hyderabad, were taken to the hotel in a rusty bus, took a bath, went to Snow World. We had to leave our shoes in the bus, they weren’t permitted inside. Very few people took cameras and cell phones, so we don't have many pictures. The A left her camera at the hotel, mistakenly believing that it could not be operated at extremes of temperature. As a result, there are no pictures of us trying to freeze to death.

We waited in line for jackets (pullovers? windbreakers?) mittens and boots. We pulled them on somehow, and learnt a valuable lesson- one size does not fit all.

Once we got inside, we understood how useful useless the gear was. Was it C-O-L-D! I was uspet to find that I had no toes or fingers. The nose? That would be the blue, icy projection just south of the eyes. Some ill-meaning individuals threw snow at my face. I promptly lost my breath and started gasping. Everyone rallied round to blow (cold, natch) air in my face to 'help' me. I scared them all, but finally disappointed them by not dying of hypothermia.

Twin and I got separated from the others and decided to go sledding. They had this huge incline, and you take your sled and climb up the stairs holding it. They make you lie on it, and then push you off. I nearly chickened out just before push off (I’m scared of heights), but finally decided to go through with it. We ended up doing it again. And again. Wheeee...

I think that was when they announced it was going to snow. Total waste, if you ask me. Some bits of ice falling from the ceiling landing in a small circle, the diameter of which was (surprise) equal to that of the propellor they used. I was too busy dodging snowballs to notice.

They had an igloo, and feeling Eskimo-ish, I ventured inside it, only to find myself surrounded by our boys. I scrambled out immediately, but not before some wisecrack got to crack 'Oraalum koodi vannal namukku ivale Panchali aakkamayirunnu' [If one more guy comes in here, we ould have made her Panchali]. Gawd. I found Twin outside the igloo and we had a tearful reunion. Touching.

I wanted to climb the Everest (yeah, the real one, found BANG! in the middle of Andhra Pradesh), until I saw an encouraging sign next to it, 'Climb at your own risk'.

Some helpful individual threw a huge snowball right in my face, and I thought I died this time. I didn’t, and lived to have my revenge. Muhahahahaha.

I dared a friend to touch a metal post with his tongue, but he was way ahead of me on that one. He’d done it once before elsewhere. Oh, well. You can’t have everything.

An enterprising alavalathi [mallu for alavalathi] threw snow at my face, again. I wanted his blood, but the others dragged me off saying it was too cold to stay in any longer. By then, various parts of our body visible outside the gear had turned a delicate shade of blue.

We went out and took off the protective gear, only to find that our worst fears had been confirmed. We had no feet. No toes. No fingers. Thinking we'd thaw ourselves out with a hot coffee before they commenced amputation for frostbite, we moved to the coffee stand. Those Snow World people really knew their business. Outrageous price (10 rupees!) for a cup of ordinary coffee that we can get for 2 bucks at our college canteen! 1500 paise for a stupid cutlet. So I went with my usual 'coffee gives me gastritis, and these grapes are sour' line.

We went outside after rediscovering our extremities and found we had to pay 50 bucks for karting, and 30 for 'Living Dead' (You have to give them marks for originality). I thought I’d go into the horror house after my 4 laps. Beeg mistake. I had to wait in line for hours for my turn at the 'Kart Kave', and by the time I’d finished there, the Living Dead had died for the day night. The ones who tried it said it was really good. R told that people actually do scream shrilly when they're scared to death. The movies aren't exaggerating.

So, karting. A few friends and I felt adventurous. A and R didn't, and they decided to watch us make fools of ourselves. I hadn't driven in quite a while, so I was a bit worried about my steering. With good cause too. I came to an ignominious halt exactly 2 seconds after starting. My steering was always a bit off. Anyway, I completed one lap and as usual, leaned on the accelerator. Then I saw a right turn up ahead in the distance, and thought I’d slow down. Slammed on the brake and Wham! The whole contraption turned around. That was the only time I swore on the entire trip. Bloody thing had no gears. My ingenuity (yeah, modesty is one of my strong points) came to the rescue. I turned the whole thing round. Yay me! And for the first time in my life, I knew what ‘thundering applause’ meant. (Debilitating stage fright keeps me from the stage.) It was exhilarating.

There were some more rides there (things like a 30 foot free fall), but we had to leave by then. I wanted to try the free fall, because the adrenalin rush from the Kart Kave made me feel like I could take on the world single-handedly, and to hell with acrophobia . Well, I am glad I didn't, is all I can say, considering what happened at Ramoji Film City the next day.

We went back to the hotel. We had dinner from a seedy restaurant outside it, alambal [enjoyment?] in the room and went to bed after celebrating a classmate's birthday in the hall. Lucky guy had all his friends around at midnight. I was too sleepy to be jealous, though.