Not Spanish...yet

Today, I was asked what the usual cuisine in my house was. I stared at her (the person who asked),  not comprehending what she was asking, or why she even had such a doubt. A friendly prompt, listing options such as Italian and Mediterranean plunged me deeper into confusion. I hesitatingly answered, "typical South Indian", and added, "Why?". She tells me, "Do you remember the Freshers' and how you were introduced? I thought you had been born and brought up in Spain." Sigh! I wish! :P I reassured them that KK had just been pulling my leg, though I was indeed mad about Spain and dream of marrying a Spanish footballer.

* Flashback mode *

Freshers' party last year. We had to select a chit with our names on it, and introduce that person. And dear Mr. KK got my name. He mentioned something about my being a Spaniard masquerading as a Tam Brahm girl. He also spoke about my playing the guitar.

(I had to introduce a guy I had hardly interacted with (not that I interact with many people...), and after mentioning that I'd just spoken to him a few times, I said something to the effect of, "He works on something related to Information Theory, and we once discussed something. I don't know what exactly he works on, but he works on something." I used "something" at least five times in the three lines I spoke. Ah, I digress, this post isn't about me... (or maybe it is!) )

* Fast forward to the present*

I thought everyone knew my Spanish locura, but this was the first time I was mistaken for someone who has lived in Spain :P All in good time, ma cherie - I am definitely bestowing my presence on my beloved Spain, but just not yet ;)

Hasta pronto!

Of threats and treats

Looks like you don't have to be rich, famous or even drop-dead gorgeous to be on someone's hitlist...

I've just been thinking and recalling the things people have told me they are going to kill me for :

- I was told, "voy a matarte" for finishing a 2-hour exam in 20 minutes! (I was even told I should sit in the last bench right by the door, so no one would know when I finished the exam )

- A friend once told me, "I am going to kill you when you come here", and later mellowed down enough to just want to kick me. The reason? "Simply" :|

- I get threatened, with death and loss of friendship, if I talk to or about certain people...

- As if death threats weren't enough, people tell me they are waiting with sticks and weapons. Why? Mainly because I haven't been able to visit them, even when I did finally manage to take a break. (Though I didn't want to take a risk by calling their bluffs and get beaten with sticks and whatnots :P )

- Why, I was even told that someone would cut off my braid in a bus. Just because I had beautiful thick hair at one point of time.

- And how can I forget my brother and cousins threatening to let drops of curd (and pieces of fruits and veggies I don't eat) fall on my plate/leaf while eating, especially if I don't comply to their requests...

But to be honest, I haven't always been at the receiving end of these threats. I have made some of my own ;)

(My brother says I was born a rowdy, so he'd say all this is perfectly in line with my character :P )

- I have threatened SC that I would sing to him. A lullaby. In Marathi. And that I'd embarrass him in front of his friends. (Details not to be revealed here ;) )

- I have told friends that I'd let them sample my cooking. (I cook quite well. Really. Just don't ask my brother ;) )

- I made a friend watch Child Moon (err, Pillai Nila). (That he took revenge on me is another matter altogether)

It isn't my fault that people mistake my treats for threats...

I'm threatened too. And not just me, my team as well - my friends (& also my brother) tell me that my team will lose the match, sometimes because I fail to do something they want. (And other times, well, just because I support the team!)

Oops... Ignore the second part. I am *NOT* a rowdy. ;)

Thank you :)

Of Spanish footballers, SJ and the revival of hope

Ask any of my friends, they'll tell you about my crazy dream of marrying a Spanish footballer. Now, that makes me sound like a gold-digger which I am not (I don't like gold. And super-rich footballers and I are out of each other's leagues ;) ) Let me clarify. By Spanish footballer, I mean someone who is Spanish (Basque included ;) ), and also plays football. Preferably out of doors. He doesn't have to play for Real Madrid. Or even in the Segunda Division. He just has to play football. (And he should become my boyfriend. It's ok if he doesn't propose to me at the Bernabeu after a Real victory over Barca or Atletico - I'm not picky like that)

This dream of mine has resulted in me being the butt of jokes quite a few times. Like, the time in Spanish class when we had to say something we would have done in the future, and I said I'd have lived in Spain for a few years and written about my experiences there. And my teacher said, "after marrying a Spanish footballer". :| Or, my brother, talking to me about Spanish Iyengar boys named Ronaldo Iyer and Iker Narayanan.

Speaking of Iker Narayanan, I don't think he has been born yet, maybe I should pray that he be conceived soon. Cougars seem to be trending. Why, just yesterday, Yahoo had an article on May-December (or is it December-May when the male is younger?) relationships in Bollywood (can't find the link now, too lazy to search). By the time this yet-to-be-conceived Iker Narayanan is an adult, older-woman-younger-man couples should hopefully be quite common. But until then, I'll try and settle for just a Spanish footballer. Not necessarily Spanish Iyengar. Why, it might turn out that Iker Narayanan doesn't play football. I must be prepared for such an eventuality, no? Always good to have a backup plan, no?

Moreover, I was recently told that these Spanish guys, when they are playing a match, can't really see me in front of the TV on another continent. I think it's partly because their matches are usually played past midnight our time, and so the lights are off. There are floodlights in the stadium, but not where my TV is (other people usually sleep by then!). I don't really blame them. But I don't know what to do about my friends who shatter my dreams with their cold logic... Pobrecita me...

With all this gloom around me, I could do with a ray of sunshine. Which is what I got chatting with SJ this afternoon. SJ is this girl from my French class. She was quiet (she said she still is!). Plus, she usually had a book in hand. And she sometimes spoke Spanish in the French class. It was thanks to her and her FB page that I discovered some really awesome music. What more does one need before considering someone a friend?

Anyway, SJ and I chatted this afternoon, after years. She tells me she is in Spain. After catching up with her, I told her about the Spanish footballer fixation. Being the nice, fun girl she is, she said she'd look for one for me, another for some other friend of hers. I suspect it'll be while before she sets up her "bureau", the BoNE (Bureau of Novios Espanoles (potentials)). Until then, I can only wait and hope.

Thank you SJ, for reviving my hopes and restoring my faith in humanity and assuring me that not everyone is heartless and just waiting to rain on your parade. You're a good friend. I will definitely take you out for tapas... (and that's not a bribe ;) )

Hurdles

I have been thinking about how I could have been in stand-up comedy if it weren't for a few glitches :

- Apparently, you need to be audible. (So this is what is called an insurmountable obstacle... sigh!)

- Oh, and also funny. (I mean, outside your head - inside, I'm hilarious)
   (It turns out you can also pretend to be funny, but unfortunately for me, I am not a fan of certain types of 'comedy', nor do I want to do them myself... Oh, looks like I'm an elitist now)

- And you apparently need to be in the limelight. On a stage. In front of people. *Gasp* (If only stage-fright didn't kill me...)

- Oh, and your jokes need to be something that people can 'get'. (Tough one, that - I often end up having to explain a joke (which kind of sucks out all the fun), or having to remind someone that it's a joke)

- Plus, you need to keep your face straight. (Which I've been only partially successful at - either I keep a very straight face, or I start laughing well in advance - "hey, there's going to be a joke, it's going to be so funny, you know... Come on, now!" )

- Humor is hard work (Biggest hurdle, if you're even half as lazy as I am...)

- Oh, and you need some motivation/encouragement. (A sarcastic (and way funnier) brother; who starts laughing (pretends to, actually) and then says, "you said you were going to tell a joke, so I started laughing already" and then stops when you have delivered the punchline, isn't exactly encouraging. Nor is the friend who says, "Oh, is this supposed to be a joke? Should I laugh? Hee hee hee")

No wonder then that I haven't started my career in stand up comedy. Yet.

Maybe in another lifetime. Or in another world. Or in the current one, if any of the predicted apocalypses happens...

Until then, folks...

SC special

So, dear boy SC gets a post of his own. He's convinced that only evil ghosts read my blog, and so, dear reader(s), make a note of this insult to you. (Please feel free to contact me, I'll be happy to give you his contact details so that you can have your sweet revenge - just let me watch :P)

SC has been one of my latest victims - I end up talking to him for hours, why, one night, I thought it was still 22:15 and then I realized it was way past midnight, and there I was, still subjecting that poor soul to my continuous chatter. I don't know what all we spoke or why - it was all rambling on and on about random topics.

Maybe I should (re)introduce SC. Let's see - SC is this (now) summer student in our department, yes, one of those all-the-time-reading-papers-or-running-experiments people. He's the one who drank Horlicks (no, SC, I'm not revealing anything further ;) ), the one who eats cup noodles but refuses my offers of garlic-y rice :P He's the one who actually reads a lot of science stuff, but makes it sound as if I read/know a lot. I'd mention some of the things he's introduced me to, but I don't want to create any scandals, you know ;)

I wanted to write a lot more about him, but as he's out of sight at the moment and I have no idea where he is, I'll save the rest for later, hoping that he'll provide some juicy gossip-y material worth telling the world about.

And also, he's promised me a royal dinner, which I'm still waiting for ;) Maybe that'll be worth writing about, and induce poetry that only good food can...

Until later, dear evil ghost readers...

You can find me

- fidgeting in my chair in the lab
- pacing the corridor
- cycling/walking with a random grin plastered on my face (and often trying to suppress a giggle - the evil brain in my head keeps cracking inappropriate jokes when I'm by myself, or just goes 'por cierto,tan-tan-tan-TAN!' on an infinite loop)
- nose buried in a book (these days, it's the same one for weeks together :( )
- drinking coffee at ShopCom (while ruing the fact that the place now looks like a park with concrete benches)
- sitting with SM at ShopCom and asking her to shut up and drink her tea :P
- with SC, going on and on about the most random things. (This is valid for a few more days, at least)
- fidgeting with my phone and itching to call SM every other minute until she arrives
- trying my best to stay awake (in the lab and at dinner)
- in the football ground on some evenings - just sitting in my corner and watching people play
- walking, lost in my own world (& at times, in music)
- on the phone, nowadays arguing with my brother about the World Cup
- with a vacant expression on my face - "Huh, were you talking to me? What? Oh!"

(This has been lying in my drafts folder for a very long time, so I thought I'd just post it)

Celeb dreams

I have been stuck with this song for a few days now, with the result that this morning, I dreamt I was at a window of a NY skyscraper with Neil Nitin & Katrina, and I took a bottle out of Neil's backpack and chugged at it only to realize it was beer. Meanwhile, Katrina was hunting in my backpack for a water bottle.

Is this the kind of thing people talk about when they talk about dreaming of celebs?