Monday, March 31, 2008


If the tongue didn't have taste buds................

we wouldn't have to cook.
we wouldn't require a thousand spices.
we wouldn't consume bad fats, colours, processed foods, sugar, redmeat, rices.
there wouldn't be fast food chains
or restaurants
or parties
or ice creams
or chocolates
or cook books
or cooks
or food festivals
or food.
Ramsey wouldn't hound poor apprentices.
Yan Kan wouldn't cook.
Rachel Ray wouldn't shout so much (or is that asking too much?)
people wouldn't be obese.
there wouldn't be diet gurus
or liposuction
or intestinal bypass
or aspirin.
cholestrol and triglyceride wouldn't be so common.
cardiologists would get days off from work.
fisheries wouldn't be depleted.
birds wouldn't experience hell on factory farms.
birthdays wouldn't require cakes.
There would be no pepsi
so there would be no pepsi ads.
the khans and cricketers wouldn't get that income.
the ad world wouldn't have slogans like thanda matlab...
language wouldn't have some priceless idioms
like ' you can't have your cake and eat it too'
or 'the proof of the pudding is in the eating'
or delightful neologisms like eye'candy'
or delhi belly.
smart alexis, me, wouldn't be calling the taste buds a mixed curse
or calamity in disguise.

So what am I trying to do??

I am trying to plan a lesson on conditional clauses.
But I would really like it if I didn't have to cook.

Friday, March 14, 2008

To Whosoever It May Concern

I've been tagged. So here goes.....

First, the rules:- Post the rules on your blog.- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. -Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

Out of the very many irritating habits of mine, here are six.

1. I baby talk with my kids (one is almost out of college and the other will soon be entering one) . I know it is disgusting. But I had begun to do it to irritate them. Now they talk right back at me in the same way and it has become a habit. (I must stop it before they get married. I'd hate it if my spouse baby talked with his mother.)

2. I bite my lip a lot when I concentrate on my work.

3. I count all the time - the steps I take on the treadmill, the seconds at the traffic light, while waiting for food to get done, the rings after I call someone on the telephone, when the computer takes time to follow instructions.........

4. I wake up at 3 a.m and enjoy working while the whole world sleeps. Of course I'm good for nothing after 8p.m

5. I never give compliments and I feel terribly uncomfortable when I receive one.

6. I hate to throw things away, which is why I have cartons full of them - from stuffed toys & baby clothes to seashells & expired medicines

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Five Great Women-Friendly Ideas

Move over diamonds - today's woman needs better friends.

It was March 8th and I was thinking about great ideas that had helped the Indian woman. I came up with five; shortlisted for their frequency of use, number of users, energy consumption and lack of adverse effects.

Number five on the list of GWFI's would be the restrooms at petrol stations.
Travelling long distances on the road used to be great fun for the men and kids. The Indian ways allowed them to answer nature's call in more ways than one - what with the fresh air and leafy bushes. Who needed privacy when freedom called. All the while the women squirmed in discomfort. Downright unhealthy I tell you. Whoever thought of restrooms on the road deserves the Mr.Considerate Crown.

Coming fourth is the moisturiser. The modern woman works in conditioned climes that leave her skin dry. This is a major toll-taker. And coming to one's help is the trusted cream or lotion that soothes, quenches and revives the epidermis. You can't have enough of it. Moisturise, moisturise moisturise. And moisturise. I'd swear by Dove.

The third GWFI is the handbag. This wonderful article is a boon to women who are expected to carry , apart from currency, id card & licence, also biscuits for the kids, panparag for husband, saridon/gelusil/ lozenges for the family, bindi, safety pins, address book, mobile, keys, pen, post it notes, tissue, perfume, vicks vaporub, rubberbands, hairclips, spare glasses, bills, lists, sanitary pad, towel, handkerchief, comb, lipstick, lucky draw coupons, bandaid, air/train tickets, cheque book, postage stamps, nailfile, scissors, dry cleaners' receipt, photo of husband, children, father, mother, self, loose change, thread, needle, moisturiser etc. And the etc could be a page long. If it is a young mother's bag , add to these : feeding bottle, diapers, spare baby clothes, wet wipes, baby powder, lotion, bonisan, rattle, squeaky toy and much more.

So let's hear it for the lady's bag; it is truly a wonder like its owner.

In the second place is the pressure cooker. She is simply priceless. She saves time and fuel . She retains nutrition. Her new and improved shapes have raised convenience to artistic heights. Hugs and kisses to my dear dear friend. Mmua mua

The winner, hands down, is however the strong , the stable, the silent hero. In the words of a great :) poet.......
He's there when I want him
He never complains
He takes all my dirt
And never shows st(r)ain
He stays in the background
He's never seen
He's my dear, dear friend
My washing machine.

But the show doesn't end. Ideas are waiting in the wings. Here are some of mine: mixie with silencer, sari with pockets, a treadmill that will turn fat into power to run itself, deceptive armour that will stun bottom-pinchers on buses (like the sting ray), lights in handbags so you won't fumble for things, things that will speak up when you search for them, DNA with the fat fixed genes removed and height enhancing ones added, hair that stays on scalp, hair that drops off arms and legs, body parts that defy ageing and gravity, body fat that will fuel vehicles, repellants that actually repel pests (not only of the bug species), roads that can be crossed, a single meal a da............................ SSomebody sstop me

Monday, March 3, 2008

Occupational Hazard

One thing I'd not known would be part of my work
Is the mountain of correction that I'd rather shirk.
I spend many painstaking hours bending
over essays and answers - never ending.

Poring over writing so bad or so tiny
I end up with pain in my eyes and my spiny.
I tear my scant hair in agony to see
Mistakes aplenty, fearless and free.

My simmering rage fanned to fury,
I could hang those brats sans judge or jury.
Grammar mistakes and spelling errors,
Utter nonsense and other terrors
take away the best part of my life,
God! I can't take it - this wretched strife.

But the worst of all these terrible tortures
is when students continue to take language to slaughter.
For returning the marked work, I against hope hopen
they'll heed the correction, their eyes wide open.
But Alas! The saddest torture for a teacher
is that they persist in writing answers all fractured.

So release me, dear Lord, from these tiresome travails,
I'd prefer much rather to lie on sharp nails.
God, when will Thou deliver me from the miseries
of changing the blasted ei's into ie's?

[ This was inspired by Ogden Nash's poem, This Is Going To Hurt Just A little ]