Facebook For Parents

Dear readers,

I know I know I haven't written forever! But believe me, I had an iron-clad reason not to...you see, working as a Software Engineer has sapped all my creative juices. My activities have been reduced to:

• Stalking people I hate on Facebook
• "Upvoting" answers on Quora
• Ignoring Google+ notifications

That takes up most of my working day. In between, I compile my useless code which, believe me, hardly ever works. But it serves the purpose of taking up enough time for me to go and ping a friend something like "Can you believe - what she was wearing/who she was snogging- on Facebook?".

Quite a few family members of mine are on Facebook. Not very active apart from the occasional wall post on their own walls(really) and mentioning my embarrassing pet name publicly to the delight of my evil friends(seriously). You know where they are really active, though? Matrimonial sites. Yeah, I had the distinct pleasure of gawking, spluttering and hyperventilating in office when I discovered my own profile on one such site. Very loudly, let me add.

With a choice between a sheep, a monkey and a variety of pictures with drinks and food and cartoon characters from my Facebook profile pictures album, they smartly opted for some picture of me in a Saree where I looked pained while flashing a fake smile. A million other invasive details such as horoscopes, star signs, caste and stool samples follow. I stumbled upon the "Personalized Messages" section and that's when I was convinced that I was in the darkest corners of the Internet.

By the end of the ordeal, I was experiencing a weird emotion where the urge to kill someone was greater than the urge to make funny about-to-cry faces. Okay not that weird, considering I have had this feeling a million times before. I am wondering if I should ask my parents to change my occupation to "Potential Serial Killer".

Bottle, bottle, everywhere; Not a drop to drink

Yes, I haven't written for a long time. No, I am not going to apologize. Why? Because I was practically swamped at work. Okay, you can stop snickering now.

Moving on.

Recently, I was flying to Chennai from Bangalore. One centimetre on the map, 4k dent in the wallet. Sad. Anyway, during security check I was busy not listening to music but having the ear phones plugged into my ears so that noone talks to me when all of a sudden the girl in front of me was called by the Airport Security Lady. She ripped open the girl's bag and whipped out an extremely cool-looking, well-hidden Finlandia vodka bottle. She gave the girl a look of disgust and called the Airport Security Guy. The guy also gave her a dirty look.

Airport Guy: Madam you cannot take this.
Girl: But the bottle is empty. What is the problem?

So the guy walked off and after a lengthy discussion that involved a lot of bottle-smelling and back-slapping he returned.

Airport Guy: Arey madam...there is beer smell in this.
Girl: Sir, I washed it many times. The smell won't go completely na?

Airport Guy: No no why are you taking the bottle?
Girl: It's a gift for my sister.

Airport Guy: Arey madam how can you give anyone an empty gift? Hehe...what madam don't fool us.
Girl: No really it's a gift for my sister. She collects bottles.

Airport Guy: Hai this is something people collect? What kind of girls are you all? AREY RAMU....O RAMU!!! THIS MADAM HAS A BEER BOTTLE AND SHE IS TAKING IT FOR HER SISTER. LET HER GO OR NOT? 

By now the entire airport knew that a girl *SHAME* was taking a smelly "beer" bottle *GASP* for her sister *TAUBA*. Finally, Ramu did give his approval but not before giving her a speech about how true Indian women would never carry around beer bottles, let alone collect them.

I wonder what would have happened if the bottle was full.

Mission Impossible V - The IPL story

Mission: Get on TV during IPL match

Tools needed:

1) Tickets for CSK vs RCB. Check.
2) Dent in bank account. To be specific, a Rs. 1375 dent for the "Bagpiper special view". Check.
3) Hot friend(more probability of getting the camera to land on us). Check.
4) Weird props for cheerleading. Well, not really but hoping to grab some props from other spectators when they aren't looking. Check.

Preparation for the mission:
1) Tell everyone in office, including the China headquarters that I am going for the match. Check.
2) Dilly dally at work(in anticipation of the match, of course). Check.
3) Leave office at 4. Cash....I mean, Check.

Ideas that we flirted with:
1) Sit in a stand dominated by RCB supporters wearing red, while we wear yellow and support CSK. Smells like a death wish.
2) Hope for Gayle to smash a 6 so that one of us gets hit by the ball and we get admitted to the hospital. And then Gayle, along with the rest of the players come to visit us. Irrational much?
3) Get hot friend to gyrate sexily so that the spy cam spots us. Well, no luck there.

What really happened:
1) Cheering for CSK did not work. The RCB supporters started throwing their cheerleading props at us.
2) 1375? You would expect a nice seat. Well, the joke's on you. They were plastic Nilkamal chairs that creaked and groaned when you sat on them. I think it's because the rain weakened the molecular integrity of those chairs. Hmmm.
3) The match kept getting delayed. At about 10, we realized the match wouldn't happen since it was 2 hours behind schedule. So we trampled on many RCB fans' toes(the highlight of the evening) and managed to get out of the stadium.

The moment we were outside, the stadium erupted with noise and when we looked up we saw a little boy waving an RCB flag and calling everyone back. Naturally, being in the same stadium as 50,000 other people, you form a bond of mutual trust with them. So we ran back in.
At 10:45, the match got cancelled due to rain.

If you thought Mission Impossible IV was a flop, you thought wrong buddy.

Mom Calling

Phone rings.

Me: Hello amma...
Amma(talking to my brother): Aaan, thirrpi pizza order pannanamaa? (Oh, you want to order pizza again?)
Me: Hellooo hellooo amma!
Amma(still talking to him): Poda pichchu pichchu poduven...pizza-kuzza chi!!! (Get lost I will tear tear and throw you....pizzaa-schmizza yuck!!!)
Me: AMMMAAA!
Amma: Ennadi (What)? I am not deaf. Why are you shouting?
Me: Because you only wer.....gah, never mind!
Amma: Aaan. You had dinner?
Me:  Yeah I had.
Amma: What you had?
Me: Pav Bhaji at home / Out with friends.
Amma: Yesterday also you had that only, no? / How many times you go out?
Me: Yeah...leftovers. / Not much Amma!
Amma: Better you go out and eat. / Why you have a kitchen? Cook and eat at home!
Me: Mmmm.
Amma: You know Sarika?
Me: Eh? Who Sarika?
Amma: Arey! SARIKA!
Me: Shouting the name isn't helping, Amma! Who is she?
Amma: Appa's cousin sister's sister-in-law's daughter! You met her last summer, remember?
Me(Thinking thinking thinking...who the hell is this Sarika? ARGH play it cool...just say you know her): Oooh yeah heerrrr.
Amma: Podi, I know you don't remember! After few years, when I come to your house you will not remember me also! Then will you ask me "Who are you?", huh?
Me: Come on Amma...there's a very small chance of that happening!
Amma: Small chance aa? Adi paavi(you sinner)...anyways, about Sarika...you keep distracting me...
Me: Me? Ok whatever...tell.
Amma: Sarika just got engaged last week.
Me(entering dangerous waters. Must. Tread. Carefully): Mmmm.
Amma: She is your age...
Me(she is laying the trap. Do. Not. Fall. For. It): Mmmm.
Amma: What 'Mmmm'. You keep saying that only all the time.
Me: Mmmm.
Amma: Podi. She is getting married soon.
Me: Oh good for her.
Amma: Yeah. IT IS GOOD FOR HER.
Me: Yeah very good. I am so jealous of her.

Shit shit shit what have I done! Sarcasm with Mother India...BAD IDEA! ABORT ABORT!

Amma: Jealous? You are jealous? YOU are jealous? I don't know you or what...one day you HAVE to get married, okay? Jealous it seems. Let ME tell you something. When I was....

And it goes on and on for five whole minutes.


Amma: ...so don't think too much of yourself, okay?
Me: Mmmm.
Amma: Started 'Mmmm again'. I don't know why I call you. Keep the phone!
Me: Ok bye Am...

----CUT----

Repeat ad infinitum!

Murphy's Law for IT Professionals in Figures

I cannot tell you how many times the first one has happened to me. When I am absolutely sure of nothing but the error's occurrence(so that I can file it as a bug), this happens.

Also, the law of Non-overlapping of Office Timings.

Working is not all that cracked up as I imagined. Especially since my Facebook life is more exciting than my real life.

And of course, the inescapable 5-day Bell Curve. My apologies...doesn't look like a bell curve but imagine the lines are rounded at the peak.

If you have any, you can always contribute through the comments section.

Bananas, Dosas and Mallikas

I have a few points that don't merit a post by themselves, so I thought I'd put them all together. Also, I wanted to give my readers something to read. Fine fine, you caught me...I wanted to update the blog so I posted this. Now run along and read. Or better yet, read and then promote my blog y'all ;)

• Yesterday when I was in office at around 7:30 P.M.(still), I coughed. You should know that when I cough, Rajnikanth closes his ears.
  Anyway, I rushed home as fast as I could. I wanted to hit the sack as soon as possible(after eating Maggi and watching half a season of Dexter, that is). And guess what I see right next to my building?
  A cultural program(that's not so bad), where people were singing(the fuck...that guy just raped Rahman's song!) and cheap guys were standing all around(I am not even hot, what the hell is wrong with you!).
  Well, being the optimist that I am I just plugged in the earphones and watched Dexter hack a guy to death with a mallet. Ah peace.
  At about 10:30 P.M., I decided to sleep after drugging myself. I had heard somewhere that sarakku helps during a cold. But then I had weird thoughts like "What if the stuff reacts with the medicines I just took and bursts in the stomach the way Pepsi and Mentos kills people?", so I decided against it.
  There was no noise outside so I assumed the program was over. And that is when a man announced that they would be singing Kalasala Kalasala.
  
  Kalasala Kalasala Kalasala Kalasala
  Oh god no.
  Mallika is cold like a cucumber
  Pillow on face.
  My dear darling, Mallika is calling you
  Am I actually trying dance along with the song by varying my breathing patterns? STOP IT!


• This next point might get me into trouble because a lot of people related to me read this blog. But whatever. So recently I met one US return and you know how I feel about them. I tried being civil though. We went out for some good ol' South Indian breakfast and this person orders a dosa.
  And then you know what this person says? "Like, oh my god, this place is so authentic! Look how the dosa is...so authentic. Wow so messy....and so authentic". Every time that person said the word authentic with that irritating throaty tone, I wanted to wring that person's neck. But like the good girl I am, I kept quiet and inhaled two dosas faster than light.  


• Recently, I was taking the help of a superior. I was supposed to produce 2 files result1 and result2 which were strikingly similar. So I by mistake produced the same file twice and saved it as A and B What happened next is one of the funniest things that has happened to me since joining work.
  
  S: So which file is result1?
  Me: A is result1.
  S: And what is B?
  Me: result2.
  S: But looks like A and B is the same.
  Me: Nope.
  S: Wait. Look at the files. Now tell me...what is A?
  Me: result1.
  S: And B?
  Me: result....oh. It's result1 only.
  S: You watch tamizh movies?
  Me: Yeah. Why?
  S(laughing): Because this is like the vazhapazham comedy.

         Sooooo funny and embarrassing at the same time!

Players - The Review

Me: I am bored.
Amma: *Rolling her eyes* Oh, what a surprise. If you're bored, come help me in the kitchen no?
Me: Please...I am not that bored.
Amma: Fate! Idhukku oru chedi vechirindha poo aoodhu vandhurkum. Cha vaadi!(Translation: Instead of you, if I had kept a plant, at least I would've got flowers. Cha come here!)
Me: Ammaaaaaaa, I am watching something important on TV. I can't come!
Brother: Are you watching Godzilla on Sun TV?

And that is how, ladies and gentleman, I ended up in the theater to watch Players. Why anyone would watch the movie is as big a mystery as why anyone would want to see Veena Malik nude.But that's another story. So, the star power behind this script is:

Abhishek Bachchan: Playing the gay mastermind for the zth time. He plans the entire heist. He changes it whenever he wants. He wears pink shirts over orange pants with floral stoles. He is the man. And both Bipasha and Sonam are in love with him. Why do women always go for guys who aren't available?

Bobby Deol: He plays the illusionist. And what a great job he does...halfway through the movie he disappears, saving the audience a world of Bobby-related pain. For this very reason, he is my favourite character in the movie.

Sikander Kher: He appears in a dual role, playing a bomb expert and a plank of wood all at the same time! It's just not as easy as it looks, eh Mr. Kher? He is not just half-deaf in this movie. He is also half-dumb, judging by the number of dialogues he has.

Bipasha Basu: According to the trailer, she is a con artist. But I think that's a typo...she is actually the cans artist judging by the size and visibility of that rack. However, I have to admit Ms. Basu helped the director duo with their tight budget by sacrificing all her clothes. The sweetheart. Say it with me, people....Awwwwwwww!

Sonam Kapoor: Gold medalist in Computer Science? Fine. Such a good driver that she opts for circular parking instead of parallel parking(Check out 1:05-1:12)? I can accept that too. But what I cannot digest, is Sonam Kapoor's acting. She has just two expressions in the movie:

1. BFD(Before Father's Death): Happy and vomiting sunshine everywhere
2. AFD(After Father's Death): Constipation

Omi Vaidya: The comedian and the saving grace of the movie, Omi is a breath of fresh air in this otherwise stale, recycled script.

Neil Nitin Mukesh: The hacker. Although he does less of hacking and more of back-stabbing and chick-banging. After he turns villain, it's almost impossible to bear him because all he does is speak to his voice-controlled house(technology at its very ridiculous worst) in a sexy voice saying "Open the door, baby", "Next picture, baby", "Rub my neck, baby"...well, not the last one but you get the idea.

And this motley crew comes together in the following plot:

- Gold being transported from Russia to ^some place I forget^ by train

- Players get together to formulate a plan that will put Kindergarteners to shame. They get a train to run parallel to the gold train and steal the gold. By the way, the gold train has all sorts of protection. It has 3 boogies- the first and last contain horny Russian commandos(why horny? Because more than paying attention to the gold being transported, they are immersed talking to their partners) and the one in the middle contains the gold. Funny thing is the middle boogie has only 4 armed highly trained Russian commandos who are easily defeated by unarmed Abhishek's graceful ballet kick. Yup. Just THE man!

- Neil turns psycho back stabber and kills everyone. How do Abhishek, deaf guy and Omi escape after swimming in glacial water? Ah, silly viewer! The director duo has taken care of all the gaping potholes in the script by giving a scenic backdrop. So while they swim in water cold enough to yield polar bear Popsicles, the audience is shown the virgin blanket of snow in Russia.
How is it that Neil can smuggle an entire cupboard of gold easily while you have to declare that measly gold chain you're wearing at airport customs? Feast your eyes on the beautiful Auckland skyline!
How does a Russian General sing Raj Kapoor songs with ease? Shame on you...Bipasha is dancing in a costume which even Mowgli of Jungle Book wouldn't wear and you are bothered about the Russian General? Fool!

- Abhishek and his Players get the gold back from Neil. How? Sonam flaunts her assets while the rest of the Players steal the gold. They drive the most conspicuous cars in the universe(red, yellow and blue mini coopers) to transport the gold to Johnny Lever's garage.
In the process, Bipasha is shown to be in cahoots with Neil, and she is shot at the end. And Sonam shoots Neil for killing her father. Why didn't I mention the father before? Tsk tsk, don't get hung up on the technicalities.

- In his last few breaths, Neil informs the Russian mafia(whaaaaaaaaaat? I thought there was only Italian mafia!) that the Players have escaped with the gold. The mafia confront the Players who are now driving the mini coopers. When they check the  cars however, there's no gold. *GASP*
Where could it be? Here comes the final(thank the lord) twist in the story...remember that loose end about the cars being in Johnny Lever's garage? Well, he made three mini coopers of gold. Vechchaan aapu directoru!

And that is how Players provided me enough entertainment and motivation to come up with a blog post. Thank you, Abbas-Mustan. Thank you so much!

- Happy New Year to all my readers :)

I'm in a relationship

Yes, people. I am in a relationship. And it sucks. Why are people so desperate to get committed, I say? Idiots all these people. And now I am one of them.
Oh you wanna know his name? Sure sure. His name is WORK. Though I do call him pain in the ass affectionately. The similarities between a boyfriend and work are striking.

• So, initially work was awesome. That is, I hardly had any. What I had was Freedom. To do what I want, when I want, how I want. Yes, in between I had to pretend like I knew stuff and read a few links here and there to impress but no huge ramifications came out of it.
  I am guessing this is what they call the honeymoon period in relationships, eh?


• Then, the whole jealous phase started. Trying to draw me away from my friends so that I pay more attention to pain in the ass. Setting "deadlines". Taking top priority by reminding me that he is the one who pays for my food.


• Getting me to question my life style.
  - Do you really think drinking that is a good idea?
  - Night show? Will you be able to wake up in time?
  - You cannot go home so soon. Important meeting. Muhahaha.

And many other similarities which I cannot remember right now because I am so bugged with pain in the ass. Of course, work does have its moments. Like this one time when I completed work before a deadline and I thought I was the next Mark Zuckerberg. Yeeeeeaaaaaah, that feeling didn't last long. Here I am before another deadline, writing rather than working because I have no idea what the frick I am working on. Now, isn't that just sad? The only thing making this worthwhile? It's the Ka-Ching. Yeah, I am such a sellout.

P.S.: Murphy's Law's favourite victim is me! I swear. The other day I was watching Eminem's Superman video. Which is probably the worst video to watch when you're in office. EVER. And suddenly I hear my manager's voice so I close the Mozilla window. Phew crisis averted. Or not. Because just then my manager looks at my laptop. And I turned to my laptop and see Eminem mounting the stupid blonde. And a pop-up from Mozilla asking me if I am sure if I want to close all 6 tabs. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

He Who Must Not Write A.K.A. Chetan Bhagat

So, Revolution 2020 has come out. It's total bullshit. I haven't read it, of course. I have learnt my lesson after his other books. Take a look below.

So I know I should not waste 84 Rupees on Revolution 2020.

I thought that I had company when it came to hating India's most "loved" author. And I picked up that adjective from his website. So when I come across articles like these, it disturbs me. Let me clear the air shrouding the Chetan Bhagat success a little.

(The statements in bold are more or less borrowed from the article I have linked to)

His books sell lakhs of copies.

I remember crying myself to sleep after watching the movie Ready. Salman's histronics, Asin's blotchy face and the other motley characters dancing to the tunes of Salman made me suicidal. What's worse? Ready broke all box-office records. Which were in turn broken by Bodyguard. Which were in turn broken by Ra.One(I am not even going to link you to the Ra.One trailer. It has had enough promotion!). Do you see where I am going with this?

CB's books are the same.

His style of writing is indeed simple with minimum use of vocabulary.

Simple writing and minimum use of vocabulary, I can deal with. But when I read any sentence written by CB, I feel like taking a Basilisk Fang and shoving it into the book. He just uses a combination of IIT-IIM lin

go, "Indianisms", Hari/Arvind/Rahul(like Tom/Dick/Harry), verbs and connectors(like and,or,etc.). Anyone can write like him. Hari asked for a Paratha free of charge(Indianism) at dhaba(lingo) -> See?

People are able to relate to characters from his novels.

I have never been able to relate to any of the female characters in his books. Is it because they have no personality and they are poorly developed? And when I say poorly developed I mean character-wise, not looks-wise. Because his description pertaining to the physical aspects of the girl is a mind-blowing summary of what Indian men look for in women. So,

CB heroine = Fair skin + Long hair + 36-24-36 42-24-36 + Conservative outside, progressive inside + H-U-G-E libido + half-cooked backstory + crazy as shit

And how about the male characters? We have of course:
1) The Over-achiever who makes Edward Cullen look like the dirt under his shoes.
2) The Village Idiot.
3) The hero who is slightly over-weight, has no balls at all and gets the girl(though why the girl goes for him when we have Edward Cullen in the equation is totally unknown to me)

Yet his books inspire, give us hope and teach us to take risks.

True. They inspire other Indian authors to write books that should be used to start bonfires. They give hope to anyone who can string a sentence with a few words to believe that they can be authors. And they have taught people like me to take risks and buy one more CB book. Atleast I can use them as paper weights.

Funny Story: The other day, my friend and I are walking down the street and she was telling me that she wanted to read Revolution 2020. Although I did want to terminate my friendship with her at that point, I smiled and pointed towards a man who was sitting near a bedsheet laden with Revolution 2020s and other books.

Me: Bhaiyya, kitna?
Bhaiyya: 120.
Me(to my friend): Hah. We can get it for 84 Rupees on Flipkart. Come.
The man starts shouting while we walk away.
Bhaiyya: Madam, 100 mein lelo.
No response.
Bhaiyya: Achcha, 80.
No response.
Bhaiyya: 50!
No response.
Bhaiyya: Achcha Madam, 20 Rupees mein tho lelo.
We burst out laughing!

A-B-C(Part 4)

Here is the fourth and final part in my A-B-C series. Do read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 before you proceed. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing :)

SJB: SJB or Silver Jubilee Hall(I know I know...the acronym doesn't make sense if it's Hall but that's how we roll)...many evenings were spent in this place. Almost all clubs would hold meetings here. Hardly any work would be done though! You could always hear giggles from Tamizh Mandram, scary techie terms from RMI, some lecture from E-cell, and a whole lot of sarcasm from the Writers' Circle. This boring concrete structure would transform into a lively venue by evening, giving the Barn competition at times.

P.S.: The abundance of bushes and insufficient lighting in front made it a popular lovers' spot.

Trichy: This series would be incomplete if I didn't mention the city that welcomed young, pure, pampered souls like us and spat out slightly older, "experienced" survivors. We didn't just have tests on technical subjects. The city, Trichy herself was an endurance test for us.

• Can you survive a 9 to 5 power cut on a Sunday when the temperature is lingering in the 40 degree range? 
• Will you take the risk of eating in Maghai(the best place for jalebis and other north-Indian delicacies) when you know very well that you will end up with food poisoning?
• Can you survive the Elephant's Kiss(the craziest cocktail served by Wild West, a cowboy theme bar in, that's right, Trichy!)?
• Will you travel all the way to Meridien just for a measly cheese omelette or Sangam for the much-celebrated Sangam breakfast(the round trip is about 5-6 hours+Trichy heat will kill you)?
• Are you ready to travel to the Rockfort temple and climb the never-ending stairs just to get a glimpse of the idol for a split second? (You promised you'd go if you passed in the lab exam.)

By the end of the first year, the answer to all these questions will be an arrogant "Yes"!

Uprisings: We had a million of them. Against the mess food, against the admin, against particular members of particular gangs, against professors, against wardens, against boys. Before the uprising begins, you have the best feeling in the world. It's anger mixed with the desire to do something. You convince other people to join. You rebel. And of course, you lose. There is the occasional win, here and there though.

Vasantham: Who wouldn't miss this temple of good food? It cropped up in our third year, in a brilliant location. By then, everyone was bored of finding insects in their food(Buhari canteen), costly crap(Snacky) and insubstantial food(Icy/Juicy). And of course, messes. So people fell back on Vasantham. Cheap and good food served by akkas who flirted with the boys and scowled at the girls - that's the dream, isn't it? :P

P.S.: All is well with Vasantham. The only problem is its proximity to my department. So while I scoffed down vadas and bitched about how the microprocessor hated me and it was plotting my downfall, the lab attendant would be 2 metres away. Ah luck.

Walking/Winter: The evenings in Trichy were heavenly to say the least. Our campus was so huge. There was quite a bit of greenery so our campus stayed relatively cool compared to the rest of the city. And the climate would be perfect to take a long walk with just an iPod for company!
I also had to mention the winter season in Trichy. It's brilliant and if that was the weather allround the year I would never want to go back home.

Clearly, I didn't think this series through before I started. I had to think for quite a long time before I came up with:
Xerox shop: This is where the action is before CTs and exams. The class topper's notes would be stuck here for an entire week. Entire semester's portions would be inked over and over again. Chants of "Anna, exam tomorrow, please anna, fast anna" and "Anna, roll call anna, please copy now anna" would be screamt over rows of students. This was probably the most profitable shop in the campus.

Yearly fests: Like all colleges, we had cultural and technical fests. Festember was our cultural fest and I never worked for it because I decided that a fest like this deserved to be enjoyed. So instead of working for it, I spent my time walking around with my friends, attending all the events and tasting food at all the food stalls. It was awesome :)
Pragyan, our techfest was the total opposite. I thought to myself "Anyway I am not intelligent enough to actually participate or enjoy any event as such. Might as well help organize it!". My association was quite eventful. That's all I'll say!
And of course, my favourite Nittfest. It was the inter-departmental fest. Somehow, how much ever you bitch about your dept when Nittfest time comes, all is forgotten and everyone will defend the honour of their dept. Our dept enjoyed working and though we were competitive, we never let it come in the way of us having fun. In fact, the farther we were from the trophy the more fun we had.

Zoo: Our campus has two zoos - one in the Lecture Hall Complex or CLC and one outside it. The one in CLC was full of artificial animals scattered in the lawn. It was pretty funny, the variety of animals we had. Deer, Peacocks, Monkeys and even a few Penguins. Penguins in South India! After a few unfortunate graffiti exhibits on these animals, students were fined for even looking at them. I know.
The one outside was more realistic, keeping in sync with the climate and all. We had cows all over the place. In the Shopping Centre, in the hostels, in the basketball ground...hell, this one time a guy found a cow sitting in his room! We also had dogs, cats, rats(the one in Opal was called Ernie), frogs and other insects. So if you are ever in your room alone, you can be sure that there will be a few insects to give you company!

P.S.: We constantly complained about the cows in the SC. Finally some action was taken and they decided to build metal dividers so that the cows cannot enter. The best part? They actually did put up those metal dividers. The worst part? The distance between any two metal dividers is the width of one cow. I know. Genius.

NITT - for all the good and bad times, you shall be missed!

Dear US Return,

Note: I am not generalizing people who return from the US. Just jotting down a few things because of some irritating people I have come across..

-> After staying in some kurukku sandhu(or gully) in India for over 20 years, it is just impossible that you speak with an accent. Because as far as I know, you couldn't speak English properly when you were here. So, who are you trying to fool? Oh and one more thing...the accent totally slips when you say "Anna, oru straaaang filter kaapi, chakra jaasthi".


-> Yes, India is crowded. That is how it was, is and will be(because India is where it's all happening). So stop asking us why. And stop complaining to us. We don't care. We have more important things to do rather than listen to an adult throwing tantrums.


-> You're not the only one who watches English movies/series. We do too. And yes, we understand the dialogues. And there's no need to be surprised. In fact, we're surprised that your favourite on-screen character has changed to Rachel of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fame from Abhi of Kolangal "fame".


-> Stop walking around with Bisleri in your hands. And stop asking us if the water that we serve at our homes is mineral or not. We don't take water from the nearby gutter and keep it at our homes! Although if we knew you were visiting, we would've done exactly that.


-> If you don't want to eat food that street vendors sell, don't. We don't want to hear "Oh my gawd, is this place, like, hygienic?". We have insides made of iron. We can stomach anything. And maybe you don't remember, but we remember you eating like a pig at this very place(before you left for US) and lecherously staring at girls, saying "Machaan, antha sooper figura paaru da!".


-> Indian food is spicy, flavourful and divine. Whether it's the dosa, the pav bhaji, the dhokla, the aloo paratha, the samosa, the khara bath...I could go on forever. So stop ranting about how the food is too spicy. If that's the case, we will not take you to Grand Sweets for your customary have-to-buy-all-edible-things-there-before-I-go-to-US shopping spree.


-> Cows roam the street. They stand in the middle of the road and vehicles drive around them. Naturally, there will be few patches of cow dung here and there. So when you look at it, stop saying "Ewwww gross!". Walk around it. And yes, there are a few cockroaches too. Stop complaining about them. At least we don't have a cockroach named after our country, like the American Cockroach. And dogs will do it in the street. Don't ask us why. I know it's surprising, but we don't keep track of their mating seasons.

Yours Truly,
"We are like this only"

Squeals On Wheels

Dear readers, you will have to survive through a long winding conversation(I have thrown in a few jokes to make it interesting!) to get to the actual post. So bear with me.

HDFC lady(HL): I need address proof, Madam.
Me: Is the Bangalore house agreement fine?
HL: No. Permanent address proof, Madam.
Me: What about an Airtel bill?
HL: As long as it is a current bill, fine Madam.
Me: No, it's a telephone bill*Chuckle*!
HL: What Madam?
Me: I said it's a telepho...never mind. I have the bill for July.
HL: July, no. August only Madam.
Me: Okay. Can I scan and send it?
HL: No. Hard copy Madam. You need to sign on it. That's why.
Me: What if I sign on it and scan it to you and you take a colour printout? Huh? Huh? Won't that work?
HL: Actually it migh...no no. Hard copy only. Is it in your name?
Me: No. It's in my father's name.
HL: Sorry Madam. That won't work!
Me: But that is where I live too!
HL: What about driving license, Madam?

---

And my answer to her question was, is and always will be a vehement no. I shouldn't be allowed to touch a cycle, let alone a scooter or a car. My tragic affair with vehicles begins at:

Age 8 - Cycle

Guess who just had to take a spin around the park before going off to explore pavilions at Dubai Shopping Festival(Actually, with my dad the case is that we take a peek at the exterior of every other country's pavilion but venture in and explore only the Indian Pavilion. Rational arguments like "But Appa, we go to India every year! What's the point of going to the Indian pavilion?" would be dismissed)? 


My father grudgingly accompanied me to the park. I was still getting used to the absence of training wheels. So while I pedalled furiously, my father would hold the cycle and run. At one point, he left it and stood to watch.

He watched proudly as his daughter rode the cycle. He watched her turn her head and shout "Appaaaa!" for 10 seconds. And then he watched her hit the pavement, fly off the cycle and clash with a tree. Not just any tree, though. A palm tree, which quite frankly is the only kind of tree you'll get to see in the Gulf. Please make a note of the monster spikes that adorn the bark of the tree.

I did get hurt quite a bit. On the plus side though, I got a black eye. Super cool! For a month, I enjoyed the terror I caused amongst the kids in the neighbourhood.

Age 10 - Roller Skates

After some tantrum throwing(I am a quite spoiled), I got roller skates and we all went to the park to check it out. As I took baby steps in my skates, my brother(who was about 3) did the same next to me. So I caught his hand to help him walk. And all of the sudden, the stupid thing started running. And I fall and get a major sprain. No amount of begging would convince my dad that I actually got hurt. He made me walk to see if I was okay. I wasn't. In fact, it escalated to a dislocation.

On the plus side, I got to choose the colour of my cast(I chose red :P)!

Age 17-20 - Cycle

And life comes to a full circle again. If there was some sort of "NIT Book of Tiruchchirappalli Records", my name would be right against Largest Number of Accidents on a Cycle.

-> The first time I climbed onto a cycle in college, I couldn't get off it because I was scared to fall. So I had to throw the cycle down and step over it. What an elegant solution, I thought to myself. Little did I know, that there were spectators there.

-> I finally managed to relearn cycle riding. And then I decided "Hey why not put another innocent soul's life in jeopardy?". So I took one of my most lightweight friends "doubles" because we were late to class. We fell. She never asked me for doubles again.

-> As I was riding my cycle slowly and somewhat steadily, two guys sped past me. Suddenly, feminism took over(I'm crazy like that) and I entered into a race with two unknowing participants. Once I took over them, I turned my head around to give them this "Losers! Suckers!" look, I collided with another guy riding a cycle. I fell off, somersaulted on the road and just sat there and laughed because it was just so funny! Of course, it wasn't funny anymore when I had to pay for that guy's cycle's damages.

-> I was washing my cycle and I broke a nail. What!!! That counts as an accident too!

A-B-C(Part 3)

Ola! Do read Part 1 and Part 2 before you read any further!

Mess: I know...you must think I am mental. I miss the mess more than anything else. Everything other than eating used to take place...

-> Fighting with the akkas for more food
P.S.: The akkas were extremely smart. While serving chutney, they'd take a ladle-full, pour half back into the container and spread the remaining chutney on your plate so that it looks like a lot.
P.P.S.: I had this friend A who was amazing at fighting with the akkas. Once when the akka put 2 "barely there" cutlets on her plate, A slyly said "Akka, the cutlets are still visible...make sure you make them smaller next time". We all died laughing in the mess!

-> Talking
Everyone will be talking about everything under the sun. The best part? You can tune into as many conversations as you want and ultimately the entire table will end up discussing about something as trivial as the lack of gentlemen and the abundance of cow dung in the college.

-> "Under the table" deals
Sounds weird? It's simple. A likes Gobi and hates Paneer. B likes Paneer and hates Gobi. Exchange and voila! A has 2 Gobi. B has 2 Paneer. Sigh, Math should have been taught like that.


Night outs: Such an integral part of an engineer's life...this. Basically, you stay awake all night. My parents always asked me why I did night outs when there were 24 hrs in a day! The question is best answered by the following pie chart(Click on it to view the font!).

Outings: Trichy's close proximity to Kodai, Pondi, Coorg resulted in a lot of trips to these places. I still remember the time R and I went to Kodai on an impromptu trip. We were bored in hostel and we decided to just get up and go to Kodai. I still remember that weekend as one consisting of excessive good food, lots of chocolate, bike rides around the lake and fun!
And with R and S I went to Pondi. We sat on the beach for hours and watched the sunrise while hot chocolate provided warmth to our hands, providing amazing business to Choco La and talking nineteen to dozen!
Another noteworthy trip was with R and R to Coorg. Fighting with the waiters at Sangeethas, fighting with the guys in the train, laughing till our stomachs hurt...


Parties: I miss the late-night "parties" we had in hostel. Hurried transportation of breakable items, looking out for the warden, adjustment of light fixtures, setting up the music for the mood, lots of dancing and ultimately chugging, screaming, confessing, laughing, crying. Ah memories :P


Quadrangle: This strip of land was the one thing that was used by Opalites for all kinds of phony purposes. This is where girls would walk around and talk to their boyfriends/"just friend" all night. This is where we would give our friends The Placement Treatment. This is where we would regress and run around, chasing a friend. This is where we, as a batch, would assert our dominance during Opal week. This is where we'd fight with the warden to shift roll call. This is where it all happened :)



Ragging: I know people make a big deal of this, but my first year was so much fun because of ragging! Wacky seniors who gave us even wackier things to do made it an exciting experience. Showing emotion in a sine wave manner(you cry first and then gradually build up to a guffaw and then go back to crying...innovative huh?), proposing to random guys, sneaking(behind their backs) to go to the forbidden places, writing assignments for them, guessing names based on their faces...all part of the fun! Although I will add, I did not rag any juniors...at least not badly(I think the worst thing I have done is make a junior sing "Kabhi Kabhi Aditi" in English while dancing around like a snake). And even if I did, I always apologized profusely later :P

A-B-C(Part 2)

If haven't read Part 1 already, you can find it here.

Gossip: "Guess what X and Y are going out!", "What!?! They were canoodling outside the library?", "And then she puked all over your room? Gross!"...and many more! Who doesn't love mindless ramblings of no importance at all? They were exchanged in hushed whispers in the class and they always began with "Oh my god...I have to tell you something. But swear that you won't tell ANYONE!". After 2-3 days, you were sure to hear the same item from another friend!

P.S.: It's a misconception that only girls gossip. Guys do it too.


Hostel Life: Hostel was what made college infinitely better. Every room, corridor, terrace had a story to tell.
-> Late night chats on the stairs
-> Walking in the corridor and talking to every single person on the way till you remember that the tingling feeling is actually an indicator that you wanted to go to the bathroom an hour back
-> Telling ghost stories during power cuts and stifling a scream at the sight of a basketball on top of the cupboard(it looked like a cut-off head, okay!)
-> A cappella performances in the bathroom at 8:15 A.M. even though class begins at 8:30 A.M.
-> Locking yourself in while having Maggi so that no one smells the aroma
-> Reserving bathrooms by leaving a minuscule soap
And, last but not the least, stupid politics. Ah it was fun while it lasted and I still miss it :)


Icy(Ice-cream parlour): Kadalai and Gujaals place! Basically, major flirting used to take place there. There have been many incidents where I'd forget all about the chocolate ice-cream slowly inching its way down the cone just to fall on my sparkly white dress. Why? Because, I'd be staring(shamelessly, I admit) at the couple on the corner sharing one ice-cream. And they won't have spoons. Can it get more interesting than that?

P.S.: Yes, I am cheap.

P.P.S.: I came to know in my pre-final year that our Icy was actually called Mt. Zion!


Juicy: Yes I miss Juicy. I had my first taste of ragging there. I skipped meals to have juice there. We knew the prices by heart and the lady at the place(fondly christened "Juicy akka") knew our orders by heart! Easy on the pocket and the exact opposite on the stomach, this was the hangout for people frustrated from classes. We learnt a lot from this place. For example, tyres apart from being used in vehicles, can also be used to carry ice. And, never stand under the tube light, unless you want little black insects to have a swimming race in your juice. And, never listen to the little boy at the Juicy. He is one sly guy and he will do anything to sell you a juice.


Kaycees: Sometime during our third year, we came to know about Kaycees. It was 30 minutes away from our college. They had decent food. They had amazing juices. I know it doesn't sound very awesome. But here comes their selling point. They had beanbags! Beanbags, you guys! Do you know how rare those are in Trichy? What about Beanbags in an Air-Conditioned room? Kaycees FTW! Although I never got to sit in them because another NIT group would always be there. Always.

P.S.: Their french fries are the best in the world(even better than McDonalds'). Just ignore the flies fried with the fries(Hey, tongue twister!).


Library: Our uses for the library deteriorated and degraded with each passing year. In my first year(first semester rather), I used to go there to study. But I'd sleep off. So I took S along once. That was a disaster. We spotted this guy staring at us, so we gave him a horrendous time by staring back, pointing and laughing, making fun of his electric blue pants, etc. Good news: we stayed awake the whole time. Bad news: Turned out EBP(or Electric Blue Pants) was the lab guide for us that entire semester.
After that disaster we never went to the library. Slowly, the library became lonely but it was frequented by the not-so-lonely. Now, that library has morphed into IIM Trichy. A new library that looks like a cross between a temple and a castle came up right across the old one. But it just doesn't have the charm(read dimly lit areas) to pull in a crowd.

Part 3 is here!

A-B-C(Part 1)

I am a sentimental person. I get attached to things/people/places. So it surprised me that when we were leaving college, I cried for a grand total of 10 minutes. That is it. A guy later on told me that his friends and he had cried for 2 hours! And I thought to myself: Am I not sentimental about college? About my friends? About my experiences...that I could not cry for more than 10 minutes about them? Let me add here that I know crying isn't the definitive sign of sadness/sentimentality. But the thing is apart from those 10 minutes, I did not for a minute think about/reflect back upon my life in college. Till now that is. So I have decided to compile from A-Z the things I miss about not only NIT, but also the beautiful(I realize it now) city it was located in, Trichy.

Anna/Akka: Those were the magic words. You prefix or suffix them to any sentence and lo behold! Your word will be their command! So accustomed we all were to this word that when I went to Bombay once and I called an auto rickshaw driver Anna he responded with a spiteful "Anna hoga tera baap!"(Your father must be the big brother)...sorry, the meaning is really lost in translation!

Birthdays: Birthdays were celebrated in Opal(the girls' hostel) in a grand fashion. The friends of the birthday girl would go around the hostel inviting everyone to the terrace/stage. Cake would be stored in a room where the birthday girl would never venture. Once the clock strikes 12, cake would be transported hurriedly, matches would be begged for to light the candles, and the birthday girl would be lured to the venue using a phony excuse(In most cases, she WILL know about the party). The strength of the crowd at the celebration depends on the cake. Chocolate Truffle attracts everyone! And of course, once the cake cutting is done, if any cake is left, face-beautifying and hair-nourishing happens. Let's not forget the bumps as well. Close to 12 :30, one can see the birthday girl rushing to take a bath complaining about how she had washed her hair just that morning. With a smile on her face of course!

Class: I miss class. A lot. I miss walking in late to class. I miss sitting in class and passing chits. I miss pretending to take notes in class when the professor looks in my direction. I miss talking away to glory. I miss getting caught by the professor and back answering thus forcing said person to unceremoniously kick me out of class. I miss walking out of class, almost with a slight arrogance, after being kicked out. I miss slipping out of class(conspicuously I may add) when the professor enters. I miss concentrating and actually taking notes(spectacular ones I may add :P) in the very few classes where I actually respect and enjoy the professor's teachings.

Dhaba: The saviour! Bamboos was our(R's and my) favourite. We never experimented. Our order was always the same: 1 Gobi 65(copious amounts of Gobi fried to a crisp), Malai Kofta(spicy with real vegetables...not just stalks and stems and leaves like in the mess) and 8 parottas. With another clique, I used to go to D3. That was where I discovered the joy of kalakki(a messy egg preparation), aloo fry(the desi french fries!) and 90(a delightful concoction of Miranda, Pepsi and Mountain Dew along with some lime juice served in dirty glasses). And of course, the one and only time I went to Sam Fox and had two delightful dosas(the specialty) and chutney laced with insects thanks to the tube light right above our heads. Ah fun times!

Exams: I know it's a weird thing to miss but I miss it nonetheless! I never really prepared for them well unless I liked the subject/professor. I would fool around the entire day spending time making timetables to study. They would change every hour owing to me watching episode after episode of some sitcom. Let's put it this way - people came to me to feel better about how much they had studied. I will always be the last person to come in and the first person to go out of the exam hall. And my scale for grading my performance was "Two digit, good. One digit, bad."! I somehow got out of that with a degree...so yay me!

Friends: An indispensable addition to the list. I made so many friends. I can say proudly that I belonged to many cliques. There was of course R-my closest friend ever, a work of art like me. Another R who I loved and enjoyed with. And there was R, who is the complete opposite of me. I am surprised and I feel blessed to be her close friend! There was S and R who I became friends with later on. I became extremely close to S, who surprisingly was like a twin. And there was A, A, A, K and S. And there was crazy S and M(Haha sounds bad I know :D). Amazing friends and amazing moments with all of them...deep conversations about life, confessions after "parties", laughing for no reason at all, dissection of characters, friendly banter, heated arguments, silent treatments, reconciliations, movie nights, food weekends...the list goes on!

Since this post is going to be a long long one, I will come up with a Part 2 and Part 3 soon :)

Note: Part 2 and Part 3 is here!

Why I Love My Bag

Most of you already know how I have the worst experiences when it comes to travel. I have come across some messed up shit. Like this one time, I was trying to complete an assignment in the train. And this guy sleeping on the upper berth(I was on the lower berth) climbed down and sat on my berth. He started an intensive Q & A regarding Computer Science and all its wondrous sub-areas. He also threw in bonus information regarding his God-levelness in Networking and how even though I was an NITT-ian, I would never...(pause for effect)...ever be as good as him. After an hour he asked me if I would get up early to wake him up. I snorted. He got the point. He left. And he woke me up to say bye. Puke!

I have many more murky travel-related stories. And in all of them, all I do is stare really intensely at the person irritating me hoping against hope that the person gets the point. They usually do leave me alone once my one-word responses regress to curt nods. I recently came across an exception. Last weekend, I flew to Bombay. And I had an experience I can never forget.

I opted for an aisle seat as always. And sitting next to me was an extremely dirty "gawaar" guy. He looked like an Orkutiya...need I say more? And here's the kicker...his elbow was permanently in contact with my hand. Being a gawaar, he just could not grasp the fact that I wanted him to move his hand even though I kept adjusting my bag, and in the process, pushing away his hand. After about 20 minutes of relentless adjusting, I decided to just tell him to move. And for a minute there, he did.

I was so proud of myself. I was a daring female of the 21st century. I spoke my mind. Bollywood will make movies on me. I was...oh wait...his elbow was kneading my hand again. I had two options:

A. I could tell him to move his hand again.
B. I could just bear with it for another hour or so.

Being the fearless female that I am, I decided to go with option A. Sadly, option A was always followed by a minute of respite and then aforementioned hand kneading activity. This continued for a while and then finally the pilot (bless him) announced that the plane was going to land. However, my happiness was short lived as epic What-the-fuck-ness was about to ensue. The gawaar taps me on the hand and asks me if he can lean on my shoulder and sleep. I mustered the most disgusted expression I could, channeling the smell of good-curd-gone-bad, and said "Obviously Not!".

And then he actually leaned on my shoulder disregarding my response(and in addition grabbed my knee while landing). What happened next isn't an exaggeration or an imaginary event. In a split second, I grabbed my bag and beat the man. Not once, not twice, but eight times.

As soon as the plane landed I got up and ran to the flight attendant(who was quite cute by the way :P) who stood with me till the gawaar deplaned. And after my conversation with the flight attendant, I realized that I should have actually picked secret option C - Stop being a fearless female and just complain to the flight attendant. Bah.

Get Married, Get Pregnant, Get a life!

As Sarika was smoothing her hair furiously with both hands at 6 in the morning, her mother started screaming from the other room asking her to hurry up. And what was she doing at 6 in the morning? Going for a family function. Why are these functions always at ungodly hours! And let's not forget that Tamil Brahmins have as many functions as Paris Hilton's boyfriend count.

At the function

All Female Family Members(AFFM): "Aiyyo, look at you...you look SO plain! Why are you wearing such a plain shalwar? Moonji la powder kudi illa(you haven't slathered your face with powder in an attempt to look fair so that guys will notice you)."

S: "Oh thank you...nice to see you too."

AFFM: "Your neck and your hands? Cha cha onnumme illai(it's as bare as Winnie the Pooh). Where is the gold chain that your father bought for you?"

S: "I have no idea. Besides it is not my marriage. And I hate gold."

AFFM: *GASP*"How can you hate gold being a Tamilian ponnu? And you have to get married in one year...you should start collecting gold now!"

S: "Collect gold for what? Will the guy I marry be collecting gold for me?"

AFFM: "Ollaradhe(stop talking like the actor Vijay/Salman). You are the girl, you have to collect gold. And one year isn't enough time."

S: "I am NOT getting married in one year. I have just started working. I need to work atleast for 3 years. There's so much I have to do."

AFFM: *cue gasp again*"Wha...? That means you will be 25. THEN only you'll marry? Enna nee paati aayitu thaan kalyanum pannipaiya(you be too old, bitch)? All Tamil Brahmin, IIT-IIM, USA-green-card-holding, non-drinking, non-smoking boys will be taken."

S: "So?"

AFFM: "Enna so? 25 marriage means by the time you have a child you will be 26. Chi chi romba late(do it do it do it now)."

S: *silent but thinking. I will get married at 25. And give birth to a kid at 26. That leaves just 3 months for...*

AFFM: "...and he is so nice. In fact he is right here. You want to meet him? You know he has just finished engineering!"

S: "So have a million other guys. I'll go meeting all of them or what?"

AFFM: *turning a deaf year to Sarika*" See? See that boy standing there? He only. Puddichidha(like him)?"

S: "He looks as straight as a kurkure."

AFFM: "What?"

Note: Any resemblance to characters alive or dead, is purely co-incidental.

I KEEL YOU!

My friends, R and R, have come up with a name for my anti-friendly alter-ego...SK mode(Serial Killer Mode). The moment my forehead creases, my teeth clench and my eyes fixate, both the Rs sing "Gaya has gone to SK mode!!". And when SK mode takes over, I swear I KEEL YOU. When does SK mode take over exactly? Read on.

Note1: I KEEL YOU will be abbreviated to IKU.

Note2: This post is subject to additions!

1) If you call me "Sir" on the phone once more...IKU.

When I was 13, I called up this girl and her mom picked up. Instead of handing the phone over to L, she started asking L why a boy was calling and if I was her boyfriend. Once L explained that I was a girl, L, L's mother and I had a hearty laugh(or guffaw, in my case). At that time, it was downright hilarious. Now, it is plain bugging. It happened today with the Dominos guy on the phone(again).

Me: Hi I would like to place an order.

DG: Yes, sir. Can I have your name?

Me: Umm, I am a girl. My name is Gayathri.

DG: Ok, Mister Gayathri, what is your order?

Really? Mr. Gayathri? Asshole, have you ever met a man named GAYATHRI? And though I disclosed my gender before my name, you still called me MISTER GAYATHRI?

2) If you tell me about your love story/unrequited love, IKU.

What is it with people thinking I am even slightly interested in hearing their love stories? I have no inclination to listen to your pining and whining. Seriously, you shallow boy bitch, I am NOT interested in hearing about the girl you swear you're in "love" with though you hardly know her.

Note: This point doesn't apply to my friends. I love hearing about their love stories :)

3) If you(auto driver) demand more money than necessary...IKU.

This is dedicated to the auto drivers of Chennai. I have really come to appreciate this city but the one thing I hate is the auto driver. His excuses for charging exorbitant fares are unbelievable:

- "Night/Morning/Afternoon time ma" - then when is a good time to drive, pray tell me?

- "Petrol Price Hike ma" - Idiot. All over India there's a price hike and only you charge Rupees 10 extra per km?

- "One way ma. Suthi poonum" - Come on!!!

And you know what the worst part is? If they see you coming out of Sathyam/Express Avenue/any other mall, they charge even more. Fools!

4) If you send me a friend request without knowing me, IKU.

It's not even like I have a display pic of Hiedi Klum! My own stupid picture on Facebook still garners friend requests from sad people. I have put down few of the "gems" I received.

- Chat me - What?

- Hiiiiiiiiii. Your profile pic is very funny. Lollllllllzzz add me! - Ass, laugh at the pic and then get lost.

- Hai. Myself Mr. *****. I looking for frendship with nice, housely girl. You want to make frendship with me? - Mr. *****, learn English first.

How to show people you're in a relationship 101

Did you just get committed? Did you just find the love of your life? Did you just fall in true love for the 7th time? Well, congratulations you nail-filing, Edward-Cullen-loving, I-think-Taylor-Swift-rocks dumbass. Now that you're in "relationship" how exactly do you let your second cousin, twice removed's husband's mother's aunt know? This is where I come to your rescue. I have come up with a collection of tips just for you! Ready? Let the education begin!

• Walk together...in any dimly lit areas that you can find. Just like in the image below. This will force even disinterested people to linger.
  

• Walk together...in brightly lit public places and indulge in heavy PDA. Yes, it is extremely important that you do it!
• When someone walks by you, move away from your partner noticeably and look down or just ignore the other person.
  
• Girls, this one is for you. Situation: you're out with "your man" in a restaurant. What do you do? Answer: Do not eat...nibble/peck/say you're full after eating a noodle.
• Restaurant scene again - you could try eating from the same plate. That's a move guaranteed to nauseate.
• Write a note professing your love to your love on Facebook and -the following is even more important- make it public. Attention is bound to be yours.
• Another Facebook move - Put up pics of your better half and you and as a caption, have "♥ you 4eva". WORKS!
• If you ever get a phone call from your "soul mate", smile at the screen and say I'll just be back to your friends, and before you leave hearing radius, pick up and start talking.
  

These are just off the top of my head. Oh and another thing - go kill yourselves. Or at least, get a room!

The End

A stabbing pain
I cry in vain
The tears go unnoticed.

I am alone, more
than ever before
There is no one in sight.

I try and tell
But betrayal
Follows, looming dark.

Happiness ceases
Depression increases
No one knocks at my door.

My broken spirit
My life without merit
I have nothing to live for.

End it fast
I breathe my last
The world fades away.