Scene: I'm in my pyjamas. I've got on my glasses. My hair is pulled up. I'm piercing my fork into watermelon balls -- shape as you scoop -- and spitting the seed long range into a bowl, not bothering about the ones that spill. Baah. Later. I'm Homer. I'm cleaning my (feed) reader. I'm clicking on links. I'm checking the pulse on blogs to see if they're really dead. I'm rediscovering ones I thought they were, really, dead.
This one, for instance.
El/ Pringle Man. I forgot all about her curious poetic soul! Turns out it's alive and kicking, under a different url. I spent the whole morning catching up. It felt good. I like very much the observer in you. I'm intrigued by your fleeting references to sex. Those are new. I smiled to myself. Your devotion for a writer who was once my boss leaves me tickled. He's everything you imagine. But Bengali men are Bengali men. Know that hurdle. Given a chance, they'll intellectualise a yawn.
While reading her lovely post Jugni, I clicked on the Punjabi folk songs she'd so kindly linked to and I got reminded of my brother and his love for all things Punjabi. It was my intention to paste the link on his facebook wall and maybe write an arcane one-line reference to some childish inside joke, a brother-sister thing.
I type s-a-h in the search box. Three namesakes pop up. I see the common surname and the bone-chilling profile pic. It's him alright. Bone chilling is drastic. I'm sorry. You know what else is drastic? The extremity of my disdain for the girl in half that picture. Again, I'm sorry but what is wrong with women (www?) who insist that half a boy's profile picture should be their face?! Is it insecurity? A message? Other women stay away? My man, my territory, look world, we're in love and can't see a break up coming?
Of course, I could be wrong. But I refuse to believe a normal guy would deny his polygamous nature and put up his mug surrounded by just the one woman. And for god's sake, this is my brother. I know his instincts.
I click on his wall and get further put off. Why so public with the baby talk?! Is email dead?!
I hear myself. I judge me. This is terrible! I'm beyond being proud at the nastiness I'm capable of. Plus my cool is poof! I'm sounding like an ass. Groan. I just wish she weren't so transparent, so clearly stupid. I also just wish she weren't so young and hopeful and in awe of this boy. I bet when she saw this ad, the one with the cute but dim witted Captain Avinash Rathore (haha@ ek soldier ki nazar kabhi neeche nahi hoti), she thought their romance had been endorsed.
This one, for instance.
El/ Pringle Man. I forgot all about her curious poetic soul! Turns out it's alive and kicking, under a different url. I spent the whole morning catching up. It felt good. I like very much the observer in you. I'm intrigued by your fleeting references to sex. Those are new. I smiled to myself. Your devotion for a writer who was once my boss leaves me tickled. He's everything you imagine. But Bengali men are Bengali men. Know that hurdle. Given a chance, they'll intellectualise a yawn.
While reading her lovely post Jugni, I clicked on the Punjabi folk songs she'd so kindly linked to and I got reminded of my brother and his love for all things Punjabi. It was my intention to paste the link on his facebook wall and maybe write an arcane one-line reference to some childish inside joke, a brother-sister thing.
I type s-a-h in the search box. Three namesakes pop up. I see the common surname and the bone-chilling profile pic. It's him alright. Bone chilling is drastic. I'm sorry. You know what else is drastic? The extremity of my disdain for the girl in half that picture. Again, I'm sorry but what is wrong with women (www?) who insist that half a boy's profile picture should be their face?! Is it insecurity? A message? Other women stay away? My man, my territory, look world, we're in love and can't see a break up coming?
Of course, I could be wrong. But I refuse to believe a normal guy would deny his polygamous nature and put up his mug surrounded by just the one woman. And for god's sake, this is my brother. I know his instincts.
I click on his wall and get further put off. Why so public with the baby talk?! Is email dead?!
I hear myself. I judge me. This is terrible! I'm beyond being proud at the nastiness I'm capable of. Plus my cool is poof! I'm sounding like an ass. Groan. I just wish she weren't so transparent, so clearly stupid. I also just wish she weren't so young and hopeful and in awe of this boy. I bet when she saw this ad, the one with the cute but dim witted Captain Avinash Rathore (haha@ ek soldier ki nazar kabhi neeche nahi hoti), she thought their romance had been endorsed.
I wish more than all of the above that I weren't so affected by the mismatch that is them. Mismatch.. no, maybe they deserve each other. Ha. Perfection in the perverse. I was so put off I let the jugni link go to hell.
I need to get over my condescension about brother's twit girlfriend. It's becoming a problem. I talk down to him because of her. I crack my jokes. I think I'm so funny. I obviously don't understand.
She's not evil, not conniving, not manipulative, not a nag. All those could be worse. But I don't get that vibe from her. She's just a girly girl, a pretty fool, a sweet thing. She wants to be liked. A petunia in need of protection. God knows men like that shit.
He gets that. Then again, I don't think he does. How is that possible?!
I have a month before he visits and by extension, the airwaves are are dominated with her vacuous giggles. A month. A month. Is a month enough time to master a gag reflex for said giggles, that is the question.
I need to get over my condescension about brother's twit girlfriend. It's becoming a problem. I talk down to him because of her. I crack my jokes. I think I'm so funny. I obviously don't understand.
She's not evil, not conniving, not manipulative, not a nag. All those could be worse. But I don't get that vibe from her. She's just a girly girl, a pretty fool, a sweet thing. She wants to be liked. A petunia in need of protection. God knows men like that shit.
He gets that. Then again, I don't think he does. How is that possible?!
I have a month before he visits and by extension, the airwaves are are dominated with her vacuous giggles. A month. A month. Is a month enough time to master a gag reflex for said giggles, that is the question.
13 comments:
I was thinking about El just yesterday.
Synchronicity, I say. :)
You guys! You're like my blog parents. Nimpipi, thanks for the kind words, coming from you it means a lot. I'm so surprised. Mostly, about how smiley I am right now. Made my day didn't you. : ]
your (ex)boss is still The Man, one day I will read an article/book of his and get ALL the references and show up for a book signing and return his soul in a jar to him.
It's weird this blog world, it is true, I'm so tuned in to you.
ps - also, remember watermelon scoops served in a cut and carved watermelon? Class.
One of my brothers has always had good taste in women. ANY of his girlfriends would have done just fine; but they always parted company.
The other brother always had atrocious taste in women. Stupid or manipulative and evil or all of the above. But, he's kind of stupid too.
The Coke studio version is brilliant! I have been listening to it on a loop ever since i heard it. Which was like a couple of months back :)
And Meesha Shafi, that dum gutkoon woman, is hot. Infact, I think Pakistan has all the hot looking women. Men too.
I agree with Nitika, Coke Studio is awesome! In other news, I didn't have your blog link at work and when I googled "Nimpipi", you were in the suggested words list and have 1810 links. You're famous!
How about a party with all you can eat cake and champagne, to celebrate?
PM: Oh, look at those head of state initials! :) one letter short of cramps:P
So, I have this hot shot financial whiz kid friend in NY who mails me quick feedback from her BBM after every post. Here's what she said: loved the jugni post. THANK you :)
See, you should be famous.
Blog parents is so cute. Anytime i'm told 'coming from you', my cheeks flush red with happy, so yaay.
The Man will be delighted to have such a pretty, articulate fan. Remind yourself to one day catch hold of me. I'll introduce you and you can die a content woman, ok?:)
@watermelon class - t.o.t.a.l.l.y.
Ellie: I think my brother is like yours, the second one, the stupid one. How do you do it?! How do you suffer them morons?!!
Nitika: Giggling at your comment. :)Aren't the Afghans teensy bit hotter, you think - less um, nasal? Afghani women, for sure! What bone structure! What fortitude!
I need to educate myself on Coke Studio. Everybody, including Mystic here, has been been gong on about it.
Mystic: Hush. Don't embarrass me. No party. Sit down! Learn my url. It's the simplest. Inspired from government tenders, ye see. Still, for the flattering discovery, Danke schön! :)
i approve of afghan chicks.
Coke stuido is win. If you want, I can give you the whole collection, once I discovered it, life was never the same again!
And leave the girl alone Nimps, we all have our reasons for loving the people we do :)
Anon: I approve of your comment.
Chandu: Sigh. I hate that you make perfect sense. I should just let.her.be. But aargh! We should talk about this. When you hear my frivolous reasons in depth, you will be horrified at yourself for not disbarring me from your feed reader.
Coke Studio. *Nod nod*.
On a side note, I actually love that ad.. find it very cute.. anything to do with Fauj has my interest in it... I am crazy like that.. :-)
uh oh! sensitive this.
Whoa, someone said it! I swear I could do a my brother's girlfriend is stupider than yours comment right here.. but I'm under obligations to remain quiet on the subject. But I can still say 'AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHH!'
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