The Great Pretender = Me

Yup that's what my Dad says alot of the time
"You are the Great Pretender."

Well, he's right.
Y'know I've always said - It's not what you say, it's how you say it.
(Or in my case, pretending to be really smart and fervently praying that no one asks me any more questions)

Case No.1

I was watching one of my favourite channels - Discovery Travel and Living, and they were showing everything you needed to know about Seattle.
Dad comes along and says "Seattle, eh? You know when I was your age I memorized all the 51 states in America AND their capitals. I knew everything about every state."
So I pulled my eyes away from the TV, smirked and said "Geek."
"Geek? You young people can't be bothered to learn anything at all. Compared with how much I knew at your age, you know zilch."
"Oh yea? Well Mr. America, then tell me what state Seattle is in?"
.....
Silence
...
"Pfft. I'm 55 years old...er..the brain gets rusty y'know..I memorized all this ages ago..."
"Uhh-huh. Come on Dad. Just admit you don't know. It's okay. You're still the Man of the House." (I think at this point I may have also grunted for effect..but I can't really remember. Anyhoo..)
"As if you know what state it's in."
"Washington."
"Oh."
"It's cool Dad. I'm sure you'd have known allll about some other state..it happens to the best of us."
He walked away, muttering "Wiseass."

Of course he didn't have to know that just before he showed up, they flashed the map of Washington with Seattle in it...somewhere in there.

*Smirk*


Case No.2

"Oyyyye. I need help with my personal statement!" whined my dear brother, RUDELY interrupting my 'Prison Break' viewing.

[Slight Digression : Ladies..and a few Gentlemen, please do yourselves a favour a watch Prison Break. Not only is it really quite a rivetting show that focuses on the quiet desperation of blahblahblah.. it's got this GUY- Wentworth Miller as the main protagonist. What an interesting face, does he not have? The symmetry..the odd proportions that make that face so very fascinating to look at...oh screw that-

Oh.My.God. Wentworth Miller, where have you been all my LIFE?
Be still my beating heart.. Be still.
Yes, I've read those horrible, untrue, bad, bad rumors about him being gay and all and it's NOT TRUE and SHUTUP.

End of Digression]

*Cough* Carrying On-

"Yes, yes I'll help you with the personal statement, but really, you need to get your points down. It needs to come from within. You're 18. I can't be sitting next to you dictating each and every sentence!" And I hurriedly put the earphones back on, eager to get back to my Wentworth Viewing see what happens next on Prison Break.
"But I need you to guide me through it!"
Sighing, I took the earphone off and said solmemnly "I can only help those, who help themselves."
Dad - "Shut UP."
Me- "Haw. Rude."
Dad- "Help your brother."
Brother - *Smirk*
Me- *Mumbles* Wait for meeee Wentworth..


Case No. 3

-Ring, ring-
Me: sdfefherhfgggbxjkfnv
Mom: Mahima? You'd better be awake. It's 11.30am already.
Me: Uhh..Pfft Mom! Of course I'm up. I woke up uh...almost 2 hours back! Really, Mom. You have to learn to start trusting me.
Mom: Okay. So if you've been up all this while I'm sure you cleaned your room as I told you to just before I left..anyway I'm on my way up already.
Me: Shit.
Mom: What?
Me: Nothing. Bye!

Don't think Supergirl exists? I AM her. Who else can get a room cleaned in one minute flat. Okay it wasn't THAT clean but the point is- I rock.

Remember - It's not what you say, it's how you say it. This works extremely well for another reason - There's a sucker born every minute. :D


PS- All you self-righteous asses going 'Liar liar pants on fire.' Let me tell you I am not a liar I just....embellish the truth. Ha!
PPS- This post took like 3 hours to type because I got so distracted by all the gorgeous Wentworth pictures out there that. Gimme a break. We're all allowed hardcore celeb crushes.
Oh go away.

Oh how the mighty fall.

If you think the title of this post has something to do with an actual falling occurence, then you would be quite right.
The 'Mighty' being - Me.
The falling bit being accomplished by me too.

Once again...I blame karma (and the wet floor...and *cough* my shoes)
So the lift (okay, fine, 'elevator' pfft. ) stopped at my floor and 4 indian guys got out, absentmindedly thinking it was the first floor.
And since cheap thrills are what I live for, I smirked, thinking 'Idiots.'
(See how I like tempting Karma so much?)

We got off at the first floor..I walked ahead.

Now let's do some math:
I walk fast+ wet floor+ heels = a sure-fire recipe which results in me falling.

So yeah...to cut a long, embarassing story short- I slipped..like how people slip on banana peels? Yep. Like that.

I didn't even want to turn back to see their expressions, I just got back up, readjusted my earphones, dusted myself off and walked on.
And no, I wasn't wearing a skirt. I had jeans on.
Pervs.

*Sniff* We majestic, mighty types don't do that whole 'having-people-laugh-at-us' thing very well.
So anyway..now my lovely right leg is scarred by cuts on the ankle and knee.
But I shall wear my injuries proudly, like the fighter that I am.
(Plus I can't have jeans chafing against my knee COZ IT HURTS!!*watery sniff*)

Damn you, Karma.
DAMN YOU!

***

In other news my family and I went to watch a movie a while back and you know how I ALWAYS end up with stinky people near me??
Well this time the dude in front of my mom and I stank sky high. It was quite terrible and my Mom, being the wonderfully subtle woman that she is, went "Oh my Goddddd, Mahi, he STINKS"
I felt pretty bad for the poor guy, so the first few times she helpfully pointed the fact out, I would say "Mom. Please. Not so loud!"

And then I started getting pissed off.
I found myself wishing that this movie-watching experience would hurry up and end just so I wasn't this close to being choked with the horrid stench. There's only so long I can keep sniffing my perfumed wrist, you know.
So yes, I stopped correcting/shushing my Mom.

There HAS to be some law against body odour. There HAS TO BE!

Come ON, people.
If lazy bums like me can make the effort to shower, deoderize and perfume-ate, then why the hell can't you!?!


So..how was your weekend?

Nobody knows..the troubles I've seen!

Hai.
I'm probably gonna burn a bridge here but who cares.


When you stay over at MY place, please, for the Love of God-

1) DO NOT wake ME up in the middle of the night asking for water. Because you will get this reply back: "You know where the tap is. Get it yourself." Come ON. What are you? Stupid or lazy? No one's ever chirpy when they've just been rudely awakened.

2) DO NOT make MY dear, sweet Mother heat and reheat your food/tea/coffee JUST BECAUSE you eat at the pace of a bloody snail. We are not your maids. We do not have maids. We do our own thing here. My mother reheated your food with a smile, because she's a doll. I'll do it too but that frown and the silence wasn't accidental.

3) DO NOT keep quiet like a numbskull when the bill comes. DO offer to pay for your food sometimes. Make the effort. It is much appreciated by someone who doesn't actually earn money and has to waste HER allowance on your half-eaten, expensive food. Which brings me to my next point-

4) DO FINISH YOUR FOOD. ITS EXPENSIVE. THERE ARE MILLIONS STARVING. DO NOT JUST EAT 7 STRANDS OF SPAGHETTI!!!!FINISH IT!!!!!FUCKING FINISH IT!!!!!!! *Mahi pops a vein*

5) DO NOT spend 45 minutes trying on two tops that are exactly of the same design but are of a different colour. You see a top, you like the navy blue one, then take it! Don't kill my brain by trying the navy blue one and the moss green one 6 times over. Please. It gives me murderous thoughts. Murderous thoughts that involve you, your death- by strangulation- with the moss green top (Because moss green DOES suit you. Idiot.)

6) DO grow up. Do not lust over someone for 8 years. What are you? 13? DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

7) DO NOT...I REPEAT- DO NOT insult my friends in front of me. Good, sweet Lord. Don't make me slap you.

8) DO NOT looked shocked when I ask you to pay for your own movie ticket. Money doesn't grow on the tree in my balcony. Gotit?

9) DO get your ass up and LEAVE if 9 out of 10 people want to go somewhere else. Do not be a bloody spoilt brat and insist on staying on. Have you no manners at ALL?


I had a guest over.
As you can tell- It was fun.

..And when the last One falls, when it's all said and done..

Something's been nagging at me the whole day and I only realised what it was just as I was about to go to bed..

It's September 11th.

Be honest- How many of us actually remembered? Why are the memorials shown less and less as the years go by?
For the media and for us as people, I guess 5 years is enough to make any event old news, huh?

It's sad I know..there have been so many more disasters that ought to be remembered - the Gujarat Earthquake, the Bali Bombings..just to name a few, but still 9/11 chills me to my very core.
I am racked with guilt because I can't even remember the date of those other occurences.



God knows how many more Innocents will have to die in the name of pride and obstinacy.


My point of view. I'm not going to apologize or anything.
So there you go.

Innocents/ Innocence - Rest in peace.

School Stories- Part 1- Bollywood Queen Roohi.

So the year was 2000, and everyone had gotten reshuffled into different classes for Secondary 3 (that's the 9th grade).
So on the first day of school, I walked into class, straightened my *Ahem* Prefect's tie and took in some new and some old faces, some faces I couldn't stand and some faces that I was thankful to see.

I saw Roohi.

Roohi was (is) about half my height (HAHA sorry babe you know I can't resist!!!), with flashing dark brown eyes framed with ultra long lashes that would always get smushed behind her glasses, high cheekbones, an amazing hourglass figure and lovely wavy-curly hair, a strand of which she would CONSTANTLY twirl with her finger. God. It was SO annoying.
Nevermind that 2 months later, you just had to look up from your book to see 39 girls absentmindedly twirling their hair too.
Not me though.
*small voice*My hair was too short for that.

She had a REALLY strong Indian accent, but with just a splash of that Singlish thrown in.
'Lavender' became 'Luh-vhen-der', 'Comfortable' became 'Comfort-table' and 'Love' became 'Luuuhve'.
Of course, me being me, I mercilessly teased her about it.
I know. I'm such a snob. (Oh we made fun about her Mom's ultra strong Punjabi accent too- in front of her.)

:D All love Roohi, all love!

Anyway she looked every bit the quintessential Bollywood starlet.

Okay, fair enough. I had seen her around..she was a friend of my best friend Sagarika. Nice enough girl.
We decided to sit together.

Now Mahi at the age of *counts* 16 was a bit of jerk. Quick to pounce on the easily emo-senti (that's emotional-sentimental), she found an easy, convenient target in Roohi. Sure she adored her, but hell..it was just so easy!

One afternoon in class, I was busy at work on my essay and from the corner I could see Roohi picking up her pen to write something, only to put it back down. She did this over and over again.
I ignored it.
The she started twisting her fingers in what seemed to be mind boggling urgency. She would look at me, open her mouth to speak, bite her lip and then turn away. She did this over and over again.

With a deep breath I finally put my pen down calmly, turned to her and said "What. What, Roohi, WHAT."
"Mahi...*twisting of fingers*...Where is this relationship going?!?!"
.
.
.
I just stared at her like she had gone nuts.
She worriedly blinked at me.

And then I felt The Laugh.
The Laugh that starts in your belly, causes your nostrils to flutter, gurgles up to your throat, struggles to get out but your pursing lips don't allow it too.
It finally erupted and I saw Roohi's 'hurt-look' (again).

Oh it turns out that Roohi simply thought I was being too cold and unfeeling towards her..or something cockamamey story like that.

She got hurt of course, started tearing up- which I laughed even harder at.
Then her eyebrows would form Nike ticks and she'd blast me for laughing and then when I still wouldnt stop, she'd wring her hands and scream "What is your problem?!!"


My daily routine at school would be to find some way or another to piss her off.
She was (is) positively anal about keeping her books scratch-free, dog eared-free, mark-free, everything-free.
So naturally, I just had to take her Bio textbook, or any book of hers within my vicinity, and say slowly "Oh Rooooooohiii" and in front of her horrified eyes, I would slowly start folding a page in half.
"Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo"
Of course this, like other fights, would end with Roohi tearing up, fluttering her hands in front of her teary eyes and me apologizing and trying in vain to straighten the page out. "See??See Roohi, it's straight! Uhh..Just ignore that little mark on the page..it's almost INVISIBLE!"

We'd fight like cats and dogs everyday- I admit, I almost always started it coz I loved antagonizing her.
Sidra (coming up soon) who used to sit behind us would wearily roll her eyes and scream "Can you guys stop being COMPLETE IDIOTS FOR ONE DAY?" .
Roohi and I would stop, look behind at her, say in unison "But she started it!!", turn back in front and carry on fighting/screaming/pulling hair/vandalising each other's stuff.
Sidra would tiredly get up, pack her books and go to the back to sit with Arpeeta and Ju (coming up too).

At every break, we'd assign Duties (Arpu was in charge of this). Roohi used to be in charge of getting the garlic bread but she'd take ages.Finally she exploded in exasperation one day and angrily stated that she absolutely WOULD NOT get the garlic bread for us anymore.
Why?
"Coz I'M TOO SHORT AND EVERYONE PUSHES ME ASIDE AND MANAGES TO GET THEIR ORDER IN BEFORE ME!!'


That was Roohi- A child at heart, emotional, loving, easily angered but easily placated, a neat freak, conscious about her height (it's part of the charm baby!) and the butt of my jokes.

Ahhh thank God somethings never change :D

Roohi is one of my dearest friends. We've been through so much and I know I don't say this emo-senti shit enough but- I love you Roohi! You've been there for me so many times that I've lost count. I still have those silly notes we would write to each other in class and I still remember how a teacher once told you she loved reading your curlicue handwriting..as yes as much as I snorted about how annoying it was to read, I loved it too.


Now stop complaining about how I never blog about you because I don't care about you!!!
See! I care!

-Mahi cackles and walks away, folding Roohi's papers in half-
Heh heh heh.

Update : I just called Roohi to tell her to check this blog.
Roohi - Did you write about me??
Me- Maybe..maybe not
Roohi - You slut, you'd better have written about me. You never ever write about me!!!!!
Me- hahahaahahaha