Let me take you to the magical, mystical land of strange encounters where such things actually happen. To me.
Today I chatted with a drunk man.
So I was sitting in Panjim on top of the church steps, doing my own thing, being alone and happy. At peace, more like. A man struggles up to me, pissed drunk (therefore struggles), laden with sunglasses and tourist map. Must've thought I was a tourist, alone, big bag and many things around my neck.
"HELLO!", he booms.
"Hello!", I sing back.
"VHAT you're doing?", he says. (Perhaps the alcohol had led him to think I was far away).
"This", I reply, indicating my french books.
"BHERE you are from?", he inquires, still bellowing.
"Here", I reply, pointing to where I was, but meaning Goa.
"You're studying?", he yells.
"Yes", I reply, passively. (I though I'd made it pretty clear, but the drink seemed to disagree).
I display my book again. "And BHERE?"
Where? How could I say "here" again and expect it to register in his intoxicated mind? So I said the first place that came to mind was "Dhempe Higher Secondary", was the settled upon response. (You are, perhaps, baffled as to why was it be the first place to come to mind).
"VHAT you're doing there?", he thunders at me, still very near.
"Arts", I say, calm as ever (inwardly positively writhing with laughter).
"BAIRY GOOD", he congratulates me. I am pleased. I am then "GOD blessed", by this dear sot, and he moves off.
I resume my french, bewildered, but entertained. A great groggy shadow comes over me. He returns. I look up.
"VHAT's your name?", he hollered.
I hesitate. What could I do? He was too plastered to notice. "Trisha", I invented, wildly, attempting to look like a "Trisha". It works. He leaves, this time for good. Such was our meeting, and such our parting. Such is life, however implausible it may seem.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Among Other Things
Two days i spent phone-less, internet-less. Two days. And do you know why? Because some buffoon decide do pilfer the phone cable from the colony. Again. Admittedly, it is clever. But petty.
This is a controversial time. Polar events. India is becoming interesting (and i say interesting for want of a better word). Openly violent and unsafe are far more appropriate.
My life is getting climatic, my applications go out very soon. Thank goodness i'm done with the blessed essay. Monday was my last day at work until my November exams. Bleesh. Being home more has it's advantages: wake up later, erm, perhaps simple "advantage" is more correct. It also means more free time with which i do not really know what to do. Study more? Fat chance. Instead, I am more bored and less tired. I'd rather be tired, cos tired comes with fulfilled. Less work, less walks; less walks, less tired; less tired, less fulfilled. See?
Being home-alone is something that I would like to happen more often. I finally went to the beach, had a party, food was always of my choice and therefore cooking it was always rewarding. My redundancy is kicking in and this indolent existence is not what I enjoy.
Friday night was quite a time. Small scale party in terms of the number of people, but the noise was quite not in proportion. Turned out quite all right, these home-alone days.
It has been quite a while since my last post.
This is a controversial time. Polar events. India is becoming interesting (and i say interesting for want of a better word). Openly violent and unsafe are far more appropriate.
My life is getting climatic, my applications go out very soon. Thank goodness i'm done with the blessed essay. Monday was my last day at work until my November exams. Bleesh. Being home more has it's advantages: wake up later, erm, perhaps simple "advantage" is more correct. It also means more free time with which i do not really know what to do. Study more? Fat chance. Instead, I am more bored and less tired. I'd rather be tired, cos tired comes with fulfilled. Less work, less walks; less walks, less tired; less tired, less fulfilled. See?
Being home-alone is something that I would like to happen more often. I finally went to the beach, had a party, food was always of my choice and therefore cooking it was always rewarding. My redundancy is kicking in and this indolent existence is not what I enjoy.
Friday night was quite a time. Small scale party in terms of the number of people, but the noise was quite not in proportion. Turned out quite all right, these home-alone days.
It has been quite a while since my last post.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Other Things
It's time I wrote again. It's dropping rain outside. It has been doing so for too many days now, for it to still be wonderful. Mind, I crib when it gets hot too, but that is an innate tendency, cribbing. Rum-tum-tugger Complex, you could call it. Human nature or whatever. I like the rain when I'm out, not when it keeps me in. And you thought I was normal and straight-forward. Welcome to the labyrinthine psyche of a teenage girl.
Two relatively interesting things happened today: I took an online handwriting analysis and I had a "mother hen" moment. So you can see mine wasn't a very eventful day.
Let's talk about the "mother hen" incident first, yea. I was walking home, see, on a lovely, green, lonely road. Breezy, cloudy-sunny sky. Nice, altogether. I passed this lovely little village-like hut. Small, cozy, a bit on the road and in the way, but still. Quaint. There were chicks running about outside, four of them (and by chicks I mean baby poultry, not women). It delighted me so, that i felt (in public, yes) the urge to run with them. So I did. It was not an urge i could fight and the fickle weather does little to stimulate my will power. I ran in front of them, and then , as if I was there mother, they fell into a line and followed me. So obedient. Bless them. But I don't look like a mother hen! I don't! Do I???
Well, the owner was amused by this whole incident, until the chicks continued running after me, even after I headed off. I think he got a bit paranoid and possibly even insecure that I would lead them home, steal his livelihood. Those poor birds have a death-sentence placed upon them.
Yea, so the handwriting analysis result was pretty twisted. Some conflicting claims, but some parts were astonishingly accurate. An example of these polar evaluations, if you please:
A: Divya has a tendency to put things off, Divya procrastinates. She sometimes pretends to be busy, so she will not have to do whatever she is putting off. She is often late to appointments or deadlines. This usually leads to a great amount of effort at the last minute to meet the deadline. Procrastination is an important factor as it relates to her output on the job or at school. Remember, Divya will put it off until later. <--- Is true
B: Divya is selective when picking friends. She does not trust everyone. She has a select group of people that are truly close to her, usually two or three. She is careful when choosing her inner circle of friends. <--- Correct
C: Divya has a healthy imagination and displays a fair amount of trust. She lets new people into her circle of friends. She uses her imagination to understand new ideas, things, and people. <--- Erm...
D: Divya allows many people into her life because she is accepting and trusting. She is sometimes called gullible by her friends. That only really means that she trusts too many people. <--- HUH?! Divya has a vivid imagination. <--- Well, I guess so.
Oh, a little by-the-by, a post script, a "read if interested", a little tid-bit, a fun fact (courtesy Lauren): Procrastination is easily overcome through a simple stroke adjustment in the handwriting.
Two relatively interesting things happened today: I took an online handwriting analysis and I had a "mother hen" moment. So you can see mine wasn't a very eventful day.
Let's talk about the "mother hen" incident first, yea. I was walking home, see, on a lovely, green, lonely road. Breezy, cloudy-sunny sky. Nice, altogether. I passed this lovely little village-like hut. Small, cozy, a bit on the road and in the way, but still. Quaint. There were chicks running about outside, four of them (and by chicks I mean baby poultry, not women). It delighted me so, that i felt (in public, yes) the urge to run with them. So I did. It was not an urge i could fight and the fickle weather does little to stimulate my will power. I ran in front of them, and then , as if I was there mother, they fell into a line and followed me. So obedient. Bless them. But I don't look like a mother hen! I don't! Do I???
Well, the owner was amused by this whole incident, until the chicks continued running after me, even after I headed off. I think he got a bit paranoid and possibly even insecure that I would lead them home, steal his livelihood. Those poor birds have a death-sentence placed upon them.
Yea, so the handwriting analysis result was pretty twisted. Some conflicting claims, but some parts were astonishingly accurate. An example of these polar evaluations, if you please:
A: Divya has a tendency to put things off, Divya procrastinates. She sometimes pretends to be busy, so she will not have to do whatever she is putting off. She is often late to appointments or deadlines. This usually leads to a great amount of effort at the last minute to meet the deadline. Procrastination is an important factor as it relates to her output on the job or at school. Remember, Divya will put it off until later. <--- Is true
B: Divya is selective when picking friends. She does not trust everyone. She has a select group of people that are truly close to her, usually two or three. She is careful when choosing her inner circle of friends. <--- Correct
C: Divya has a healthy imagination and displays a fair amount of trust. She lets new people into her circle of friends. She uses her imagination to understand new ideas, things, and people. <--- Erm...
D: Divya allows many people into her life because she is accepting and trusting. She is sometimes called gullible by her friends. That only really means that she trusts too many people. <--- HUH?! Divya has a vivid imagination. <--- Well, I guess so.
Oh, a little by-the-by, a post script, a "read if interested", a little tid-bit, a fun fact (courtesy Lauren): Procrastination is easily overcome through a simple stroke adjustment in the handwriting.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Moving On... Sounds, Sights and Insights
Now we reach the things I see and hear and think, outcomes of my many wanderings. Next year, hopefully I will go away to college and then the answer to the question of my return will become an iffy one. I spend my free time, between work and classes and coming home and going out to play, walking. I've walked far and wide, seen things that aren't all quite suitable for the location (like a pathology lab in Fontainhas), and some that can't have been set in a more appropriate place (like the old man who plays the violin at his window every time I pass his house- he's a nice old bloke, I've stopped to chat).
My daily wanderings have really taught me a lot about where I live. I can now catalogue a reasonably long list of dead-end roads, built for no apparent or even unapparent reason. They lead to nowhere where no other road leads to, and they don't pass anywhere else that people might use it for other destinations.
On the other hand, there are some places which have a minimum of four separate roads leading to them, all useful. I guess that's what they mean by "well-connected".
The clouds are back, great grey fiends, they are. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. I love almost every aspect of it, except this: the dung doesn't dry. Goa is berserk in some ways, it's a blend of village, city, town, tourist destination and more. Here I speak of the village element. Cattle and all, them are here all over, they play the part of road dividers and such, even.
Well, about the rain and the dung... for someone with the tendency to step, you know (the rain keeps the dung very wet), it doesn't work. I am one of those people. I am clumsy. I step and slip and fall and drop and break and more, it's terrible. Thank god it hasn't affected my cookery, especially at work.
Speaking of cookery (and now I segue) I made rotis a few days ago. Some were round (and impressively so, really), the others ... erm ... I think the term "amoebic" would be an appropriate generalization.
I think I've exhausted my entire archive of talking points, or at least those I remember. I'll write again in the near future.
My daily wanderings have really taught me a lot about where I live. I can now catalogue a reasonably long list of dead-end roads, built for no apparent or even unapparent reason. They lead to nowhere where no other road leads to, and they don't pass anywhere else that people might use it for other destinations.
On the other hand, there are some places which have a minimum of four separate roads leading to them, all useful. I guess that's what they mean by "well-connected".
The clouds are back, great grey fiends, they are. Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. I love almost every aspect of it, except this: the dung doesn't dry. Goa is berserk in some ways, it's a blend of village, city, town, tourist destination and more. Here I speak of the village element. Cattle and all, them are here all over, they play the part of road dividers and such, even.
Well, about the rain and the dung... for someone with the tendency to step, you know (the rain keeps the dung very wet), it doesn't work. I am one of those people. I am clumsy. I step and slip and fall and drop and break and more, it's terrible. Thank god it hasn't affected my cookery, especially at work.
Speaking of cookery (and now I segue) I made rotis a few days ago. Some were round (and impressively so, really), the others ... erm ... I think the term "amoebic" would be an appropriate generalization.
I think I've exhausted my entire archive of talking points, or at least those I remember. I'll write again in the near future.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
The Opening
Well, after many weeks of debating with myself, "should I, should I not?", I've finally decided on keeping a blog. The two fundamental reasons for my coming to this decision were:
Firstly, I think it'll be interesting to read these this thread of entries in the future, near and recent both, and see if and how i change.
Secondly, I seem to suffer from having a myriad things to tell, and no one to tell them too. Not personal matters, most definitely not. I'll keep it fairly impersonal, though, for my own sake.
I think I might just have completed my essay for my application to the CIA (not the agency, this is a Culinary Institution -cooking school, for those my simpler readers). I'm still marveling at the effort i put into it, I don't remember working so hard for anything (methinks even the "so" might not be necessary). Maybe it's because I've never wanted anything this badly. Things come and go, and a lot seems to work out without my doing much about them - year 12 finals are an out-and-out example of this claim. I'm not boasting, I don't think I deserved those grades, even though they were attained by entirely honest means. The C in Maths is, therefore, a tribute to the lack of effort that went onto preparation for said exams and even that i don't fully deserve. There was, however, external travail involved.
Firstly, I think it'll be interesting to read these this thread of entries in the future, near and recent both, and see if and how i change.
Secondly, I seem to suffer from having a myriad things to tell, and no one to tell them too. Not personal matters, most definitely not. I'll keep it fairly impersonal, though, for my own sake.
I think I might just have completed my essay for my application to the CIA (not the agency, this is a Culinary Institution -cooking school, for those my simpler readers). I'm still marveling at the effort i put into it, I don't remember working so hard for anything (methinks even the "so" might not be necessary). Maybe it's because I've never wanted anything this badly. Things come and go, and a lot seems to work out without my doing much about them - year 12 finals are an out-and-out example of this claim. I'm not boasting, I don't think I deserved those grades, even though they were attained by entirely honest means. The C in Maths is, therefore, a tribute to the lack of effort that went onto preparation for said exams and even that i don't fully deserve. There was, however, external travail involved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
