According to my astrologer(s)

Hollywood's romantic comedies, Bollywood's movies and Mills & Boons/Harlequin novels have shoved various stereotypes down our throats when it comes to girls and weddings. The moment we were conceived, the wheels were set in motion. It all begins innocently enough.

Your parents make you watch 'The Sleeping Beauty', 'Cinderella' and the likes and you naturally put yourself in the Princess's position. There's just one difference though; while you're thinking about what your mother is making for dinner, the princess is checking-in on Foursquare at Horny-ville. Then, they hand you a Barbie and you're playing all independent career woman type games, i.e. Teacher-Teacher, with it and suddenly, they give you a Ken doll and a Kitchen set.

I am sure you can gather by the dwindling number of posts on this blog and the sour tone of the previous posts, World War III just got over at my house regarding this very topic. My parents have a lot of allies.

Relatives : "I just have one wish ma(the nth time they talk about 'one' wish)...that your child should poop in my lap".

Family Friends: "Your parents are saying for your good only".

But you expected those two, didn't you? I am going to give you a third category - Astrologers. Yes, these stargazers have been making weird predictions about my life and I couldn't resist sharing some of them.

• If she doesn't get married this year, then she will get married only after that. As opposed to wedging myself into a time machine and going back in time to get married before that?
• Nalla paiyan(good boy) she will get. America la irrupan(he'll be from America)! Dude, is this called fortune-telling? Firstly, you would never tell parents that their offspring was going to wed the spawn of Satan. And secondly, Tamil Brahmin Engineer will not be in America then where he will be? Don't angry me!
• If you want her to get married soon, feed some cooked moong dal to ants on Wednesdays. Okay, what? Do you have some sort of setting with the ants king or something? You know: In return for some cooked moong dal that some well-meaning people will give you, you shall stop raiding my snacks cabinet! Naansense.

Sigh...parents.

P.S.: Wow, it has been five months since I wrote here. And real-life wasn't even that hectic or exciting to make up for this inactivity!
P.P.S.: You could follow me on Quora if you like my incessant rambling. I am pretty active there.

What You Can't Put In Your C.V.

1) Karaoke Enthusiast when intoxicated

• Can sing along to Gangnam Style
• Can back it up with dance moves

2) Practising Linguist

• Again, can sing along to Gangnam Style
• Can spew filthy curse words in English, Tamil, Malayalam, Kannada, Hindi and Arabic 

3) Giggle Juice Connoisseur

• Holds record for most LIITs consumed ever

4) Major in Lazing/Sleeping with a Minor in Daydreaming

• Can drift off in all settings including important meetings
• Receiver of Bravery Award for killing cockroach swarm(in dreams)

5) Awarded for living the most boring life ever

• Survived weekend marathon of Keeping Up with the Kardashians without suffering brain hemorrhage
• Can write stupid pointless posts like this

Please hire me somebody.

P.S.: Yes I wrote this in sheer desperation to resuscitate my blog.
P.P.S.: Did the resuscitation work? Leave me a comment to let me know.
P.P.P.S.: Writing some many Ps makes me want to Pee.

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".

Bitchin' In The Kitchen

For the past year or so, I have been living it up in Bangalore. Oh yeah...I have done some crazy shit. In fact, just the other day I had my curd rice with a side of cough syrup while bundled up in a blanket watching Sex and The City. I know. Naughty.

My bachelorette pad is the shizz. Just a stone's throw away from ten hep places serving dosas to auto guys. But enough about that. The reason I am writing this post is because I wanted to share something with you guys(Hello? Anyone?). It's a little bit of an embarrassing thing to admit but...ah hell, I am just gonna come out with it. I am a bit of a domestic Goddess. Booyah.

You see the symbol on the right? You think it's people in trouble calling Batman, right? WRONG BIATCH! It's actually people who flipped their dosas wrong and now they look inedible. Domestic Goddess got swag.

Enough about me though. I have been receiving a few questions as to how I maintain my general domestic awesomeness and as I love helping people I decided to answer their questions. Let's go!


I just wanted to know what I can do to salvage this curry I made. It's a little bl-

So simple. Just chuck in a pound of masalas. Whatever you have in the kitchen. Everything tastes better with a little brick powder in it.

Hey domestic goddess, my room is messy and I wanted tips on cleaning out the clutter because my mo-

Too many words. It's so simple, honey. Just take all the stuff that's lying around on your bed and throw it into the cupboard. No one is going to look there anyway. DUH.

We have a red ant problem and I don't know what to-

Tch tch not to worry. Just do as I say. Take some sugar and leave a trail leading up to your roommate's room. She will have the ants all to herself and you will have peace.

That's all we have for now folks. Send in your queries and some cookies and I'll think about answering them. Toodles, my water is burning.

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.