seven random things.. habits or traits? what fun!
ok..
1. Even though it deletes itself, I always delete spam.
2. I notice hands. I love mine. Even when I dress sorta butch, my fingers remind me of my innate femininity. I also love hand creams, and hand scrubs, and cuticle pushers, the works. My idea of a good birthday present is a good expensive, sturdy, well designed nail cutter. My mother got me one on Diwali last year. Clips be-aut-i-fu-lly!
sub point: I also notice hair. Mine rocks.
But back to hands, I don't paint my fingernails. I don't grow my either because that surface, when "varnished" with shades like cappuccino and plum, feels heavy. This, I imagine, affects my handwriting. And typing.
I also remember the way people laugh. Both my parents actually have great laughs, and great hair. I'll give them that.
3. I am not actually all that vain/ superficial. It's this self aware aura that I'm just going to have to live with. An image of myself that I hold on to: I strike a fair balance between criticising and appreciation. Small things go a long way in what I think/ feel/ and remember of a person.
On my first day at a (new..) school -- I had joined class 5 A, Convent of Jesus and Mary, Chelsea, Shimla -- we were told to stand in a double line for the morning assembly. All the girls already had "partners", save for little lost me. And then out of the blue, this light haired girl, Sonia Chauhan took my hand -- most naturally, like she'd known me forever -- and indicated that I should fold my hands to pray as the assembly had started. We never became great friends, having even less than what eleven year old girls have in common, but I was grateful.
It's always the little things..
More recently, and more adult: for the differences I had with my flatmate in Bombay, I thought it royally sweet of her to put fresh newspaper on the shelves of my to-be-cupboard, and sweep the floor, and still be at it, when I landed up at the flat door step, 4 suitcases and 2 friends ( to "see me off":) in tow.. I have to remind myself of that whenever I feel like abusing her in loving memory.
I understand that this can't be a me-specific thing, and I should get over myself, but my above-average memory -- when it comes to people and human interest -- gives me a slight edge in appreciating what deserves appreciation, and trashing other crap.
ok..
1. Even though it deletes itself, I always delete spam.
2. I notice hands. I love mine. Even when I dress sorta butch, my fingers remind me of my innate femininity. I also love hand creams, and hand scrubs, and cuticle pushers, the works. My idea of a good birthday present is a good expensive, sturdy, well designed nail cutter. My mother got me one on Diwali last year. Clips be-aut-i-fu-lly!
sub point: I also notice hair. Mine rocks.
But back to hands, I don't paint my fingernails. I don't grow my either because that surface, when "varnished" with shades like cappuccino and plum, feels heavy. This, I imagine, affects my handwriting. And typing.
I also remember the way people laugh. Both my parents actually have great laughs, and great hair. I'll give them that.
3. I am not actually all that vain/ superficial. It's this self aware aura that I'm just going to have to live with. An image of myself that I hold on to: I strike a fair balance between criticising and appreciation. Small things go a long way in what I think/ feel/ and remember of a person.
On my first day at a (new..) school -- I had joined class 5 A, Convent of Jesus and Mary, Chelsea, Shimla -- we were told to stand in a double line for the morning assembly. All the girls already had "partners", save for little lost me. And then out of the blue, this light haired girl, Sonia Chauhan took my hand -- most naturally, like she'd known me forever -- and indicated that I should fold my hands to pray as the assembly had started. We never became great friends, having even less than what eleven year old girls have in common, but I was grateful.
It's always the little things..
More recently, and more adult: for the differences I had with my flatmate in Bombay, I thought it royally sweet of her to put fresh newspaper on the shelves of my to-be-cupboard, and sweep the floor, and still be at it, when I landed up at the flat door step, 4 suitcases and 2 friends ( to "see me off":) in tow.. I have to remind myself of that whenever I feel like abusing her in loving memory.
I understand that this can't be a me-specific thing, and I should get over myself, but my above-average memory -- when it comes to people and human interest -- gives me a slight edge in appreciating what deserves appreciation, and trashing other crap.
5. I have good taste. Aesthetically, otherwise, every wise.
6. I can't stand the sound of thermocol rubbing against anything! Heebie jeebies, and how! I don't know of anybody else who can't tolerate this. I've heard fork-on-plate, chalk-blackboard repulsion, even squeaky balloons making people yeowl. But this apparently is my thing.
6.5. I love chayvanprash!
6.8 I don't have a gang of friends, no one cohesive bunch, they're there: in pockets and unlikely combinations, precious just the same.
7. .... I also love fountain pens. Plus stationery in general.
6.8 I don't have a gang of friends, no one cohesive bunch, they're there: in pockets and unlikely combinations, precious just the same.
7. .... I also love fountain pens. Plus stationery in general.
And promises be damned, flossing is important.
trails off, spent
trails off, spent
11 comments:
very appreciative of the fact that you didnt paint your fingernails,
i hate the thermocol noise too but the fork on plates is a close second
and 'bartans' crashing, for you:)
I need someone to teach me how to floss...
I like the sub points. 6.5 and 6.8. Very decimal.
I like the idea of pockets and unlikely combinations. I use the term "overlapping circles." We used to try and think which trios from among our friends would feel the most awkward on a single cycle rickshaw.
Chavanprash. Yech. My dad wondered why we were making a fuss about eating it. He then tasted it. He said that the kids who happily swallowed it in the TV ads must have died afterwards. Hehe.
Mil.hand: How can you not like chayvanprash?! I suppose you prefer dirty yeasty marmite. (u listenin' Sammy?) bleagrughg!
My brother and I have FOUGHT over who gets to dig into grandparents' chavyanp. jars first.. and I love the silver sheen on it! It's like 'kaju barfi'. Except, you're probably not an indian-sweet fiend either.
Per: I s'pose I could be of some assistance. For now tho: http://www.wikihow.com/Floss
I don't like marmite either. Or maybe I've never had it. And I do like Indian sweets. (Mysore pak and rasmalai are among my favourites.) They have nothing to do with chyavanprash though!
You mean you actually go between each pair of teeth? Doesn't that take forevah??
i like chavanprash too
actually i love drinking water after having chavanprash , leaves a very minty feeling !
Nimpipi stayed in school for one year with me - Boarding was fun. Though your memory is better than mine. But the only thing I probably remember of class 5 A is the story you told me – the story with a moral. And then you mentioned “Nicholas! Nicholas!” and I was in splits! Remembering little things is nice. I often smile when there insignificant little thoughts come back to me.
Manicures and pedicures make me feel like a queen. I think the only days I feel truly pretty is when I see that sheen on my nails. I remember your skin coloured nailpaint and obsessing over it in Mondys. Yes, you have beautiful fingers. I envy that – in a very healthy way ofcourse.
I love your hair. Grow it back.
I know u remember how I laugh. You mentioned it in the testimonial you wrote for me.
You love stationary too? I stock gorgeous diaries and never use them. I store parker pens until they dry up. I waste so much on stationary and then fondly watch it sitting pretty on the shelf.
Yes, its always the little things. Little by little they come to mean so much.
Little do you know how much i miss you. Sigh.
IR: haha, minty feeling. Yea i know. Toothpaste works wonderfully well, too. No drnking orange juice after brushing tho. not for a while.. glad there are other chyavanprash lovers. except now sumemr is here and soon "it heats your insides" logic will plague me.
Ish!!!: lover! look ur fkng long comments! :D
(sings) 'you make me happy when skies are grey..' muahhh!
thermocol? woo.....it's car-reversing alarms for me. Especially if they go off at 1 a.m.
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