WORLDCUP, SONGWRITING & OTHER MADNESS

As soon as I decide "Susan Sajan, it's high time that you put all your focus into your studies", the whole universe starts its conspiracy toward Mission-Distracting-Susan. And it happens every single time, without fail. Recently about 3 months ago, after spending the appropriate number of days mourning over my results I'd made such a decision and to give my studies a kick start I went and joined a crash-course at Ernakulam. The plan was to put my most serious face forward, keep a low profile, attend it with utmost sincerity and return home with one subject less to prepare. And then the conspiracy hit me in the form of one Pramod and one Midhun. Till then everything was going on as per my plan i.e. I was able to follow most of what the faculty was teaching, my note taking was quite satisfactory and somehow suprisingly my usual tendency to sleep during the most important areas of the lecture was gone too and now and then, when I did get a little bored, before I could start the cycle of shitbored-chronicyawning-can'tstopfallingdeadonthedeskasleep, Jithu my old friend would make some wise crack about something and I'd get all fresh and back to being all attentive.

SUNDAY SERMONS

A six-day week school followed by The Sabbath didn't help my case of love for sleeping in. Needless to say 'the church-aunties', whose favorite time pass involved correcting other's children, were never too pleased in me. (Nor was I with their preaching and their butting in, but that somehow is not a good enough reason for some to abstain from doing the right thing.) So a couple of years ago, on one of those days when I had turned up late to church (as usual), just as I was getting out after the service, the heaviest and most virtuous of the church aunties came up to me and asked "What made you late today?" blocking my way to the door.

SPOTLIGHT ISSUES

SPOTLIGHT ISSUE Part I:

When I was born, Chech was having a nice 'me-time' (getting thoroughly spoilt and having her favorite yellow gems, I suppose) here at my grandparent's place in Kottayam and showed up with them at the hospital, like some casual visitor to see me.

This is how our first meeting went...
Chech (in her hoity-toity tone): "Chechiya!" - Hi! I am your elder sister!
"UKG-A yil padikua!" - Studying in UKG-A!
"Ist Rank'aa!" - I am the Ist ranker!
I have a feeling that was followed by collective "Aaaww...!'s"
and that-was-a-smart-&-mature-thing-to-say looks by everyone, i.e. everyone except me,

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER

(HIMYM - appa&amma's story)

This Sunday for our Easter special breakfast, it was me who made the 'Palappams' from scratch (Okay, so the chicken stew was all Amma's work, but  I am telling you, that anybody can make!) Now, about my palappams, they came out quite decently for an amateur like myself and Appa did a good job of praising me lavishly on a full stomach, sitting in front of his emptied plate. I know he did that to just to inspire me to get involved in the kitchen-front more often (thanks to my mother, who always gives these biased reports of 'me and Kitchen' much like that Zyed Khan's 'temple/library scene' in Mein Hoon Na.)

Now, Amma being a rather hard one to please or get appreciation from, it was always better to take a direct aporoach regarding these matters.
"So Amma, you didn't like them?"
No response.
Pause. "Amma?"
"Do you know how old you are?"
("Yep I do..but I am sure you are not interested in my answer, so how about you simply get to the point? huh..")
"If your Father's Mother was alive today.." she resumed "she would have told you how she managed her 5 kids, the household and all the labourers at your age."
"Hmm..." (so no compliments today!)
Amma continued, this time looking at Appa "You are the one, spoiling these brats!" pointing at me and Babes.
He just gave his guilty-but-I-thought-I-was-helping-your-cause look.
"But you got married when you were 24, no? So its not like you were some superwomen at my age either, you were also simply fooling around till then no?." I retorted.
("Hah! Tit for tat, yeah!")
"Are you even listening? I am talking about your total incapacity to........."

"Mmhnhhrem.." Appa interrupted, clearing his throat ".....And she was the most beautiful 24 year old bride too, your mother!" slowly turning from me to looking in Amma's direction
(Ahaa.. trying to win back her confidence in response to her 'you-are-the-one spoiling...-attack', Appa you clever you!)

SPARES

I think its only fair (now, don't ask 'to who?') that I start from the very beginning.  It was in the middle of my 1st standard that Amma got transfered to Kochi. So the whole family, Appa Amma and us kids (I am the middle child, I have two sisters) had to get relocated. I dont' remember the date or month, I don't remember much of my old school (at Trivandrum) either, or of the year and the next at the new school, Err.. better I skip to standard-3. That year D and S were my bench-mates, about them, they were both good kids. They didn't have the habit of pinching or poking you during the class, when they bought chocolates to school; they shared and most importantly we used to watch the same cartoons on Doordarshan (remember He-man, Flintstones, Duck tales, Chip and Dale? Ah good old days!) so we could gossip like grown-ups about important issues featured in them, over food, during our lunch breaks. (We were a pretty evolved group, you see.) That year was a good one.

The next year though, things changed, our seating arrangements changed. Our new classroom had this slightly different type of tables and chairs which were taller than our old ones but not much wide i.e. they wouldn't accomodate us all three.. and that was not a welcome change, (infact that was to me, what acorn was to Chicken Little, a sky-is-falling-moment!) but then D offered to go sit with a new kid 'A' (or maybe she wasn't new and I just saw her that day, coz very few people existed in my perfect little world those days!) who used to ride the same school bus as her, thereby depriving me of some drama.

THE SCOURGE OF ARTICLESHIP

Oh! the infernal hell you go through in the name of articleship
Still better is the life of a cattle which walks in the fear of a whip
and whose freewill let me remind you, is only as free as the length of its rope
To rush through the coming years as an invisible is then your only hope

What chance do you have with this fat man who comes in his crisp black jacket
who pockets the money in his fat pocket
which you earned him for finishing in two days, a work of two months worth
and when he sees you are in a hurry to leave for home, calls you for a review-meeting and so forth

At the month end with great ceremony he will reward you with some change
Which had he given to an office boy would have earned him a black-eye  for his wit
'Fetch the mail and post these', 'type this fast and make photocopies of these',
'file them quick and stand on your head' he'll order and when you've done it still brand you unfit

And all this while there is a file in his safe
paper work similar to yours, enrolling his pink-cheeked daughter

GET OVER OR DO NOT, THERE IS NO TRY!

When Yoda said "Do or do not, there is no Try", he didn't say anything that we didn't know already. He put into words the reason why the Jedi kept failing, a simple but harsh truth delivered in great style and hence the profound impact. Like young Skywalker, we use and sometimes abuse the term 'trying to do' whenever we are too lazy to bother doing it or put in more effort. Assuming this line of thought to be right, it then should be safe to make a statement like 'one is either in love or not in love, there is no middle stage', ergo, someone saying she is somewhere in between, must be understood as merely excusing herself, (but is it?)