The Beeper

Once again, its been a while since I had time and mood enough to blog. And yet again I am typing away while importing an obscenely huge ugly file into an analytics tool and waiting, waiting and waiting. This waiting seems to have become quite a habit these days, but all the funny incidents that I keep thinking of posting now and then get lost in huge numbers and scripts and other screw-ups.

Yeah! The past 10 days have been an utter screw-up of a lot of things, and then me getting bashed by seniors and managers, first politely and then not-so-politely for my stupid gimmicks. Even at home, parents these days are not as forgiving as they used to be!

Everyone keeps telling me to grow up, though I seriously can’t really relate me growing up as even a remotely possible solution to the existing problems! First of all, why should I grow up?!? And what fun do they all get in making? I live in my own goddamn world and do not intrude into theirs, nor do I try to change their world. Why do people keep trying to invade into mine? Oh well, I guess that’s the definition of ‘Mature Adults’.

Seniors in work keep telling me to take things seriously and attend all meetings and trainings and remind me that I am no more in College and I should learn to be a ‘Professional’ in a ‘Corporate world’.

Parents go a step further… No No.. One step each, and one + one here = three… so three steps further and have taken it as a primary mission in their lives to make me ‘a-marriage-material’ for which I somehow show a shockingly strong resistance, according to them.

Mom that day made me stand in front of the servant maid and her little girl and asked me to identify the different Dals (Kadala paruppu, thuvaram paruppu, ullutham paruppu, etc) and the different types of flour (kadala maavu, maida maavu, arisi maavu etc). The wicked Grandmom and gossipy Servant waited for my answers, which as everyone expected, were totally and completely wrong. I got embarrassed n irritated, Grandmom started laughing and as usual called up the relatives and narrated a hugely exaggerated version and mom was extremely psyched about my ignorance even at something so basic such as ingredients. From that moment, I just resolved openly that I would not set foot into the kitchen even if the rest of the house was on fire, and have been religiously sticking to it since then. The fact that I can cook pretty decently when the ingredients have been identified and given, doesn’t get a lot of credits, it seems.

Grand mom then asked: How are you going to cook for your entire family after you get married?

Me: Family? It would be me and some loser iyengar guy, who would be earning too, I suppose, so we’ll either order from outside or go out and eat! Convenient for both of us!

Beeeeeep. Wrong answers. Yes… Plural.

Grand-mom’s reply to my wrong answer no 1: After marriage, my family would not only be the guy, but his family too.

My response (Sarcastically): Shearr.. just like my current family would become his. So he can come n cook n serve my parents in my place, n I would do the same to his in his place.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Wrong answer again.

Grand-mom’s reply to my wrong answer no 2: ‘Order from outside or go out and eat’?? Really?? You are really proud that you are earning, aren’t you?

My response (Bewildered): Well, why shouldn’t I? I mean… I am not stealing money or doing anything illegally or immoral, for me to feel ashamed! I have money, so I can spend it the way I want! Now if I buy one pizza, after marriage I’ll probably order two, one for each.I won't mind that.. Honest!! What’s wrong in that?!?!

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeppppppppppppppp
And the beeper never stopped!!

Well, maybe, just may be, sitting in the office was a tad better than sitting at home with an irritatingly ultrasonic beeper going on every time I open my mouth!!

Good lord.. the import is done earlier than expected! Yeah well, I m sure I’ll get more of such ugly huge files in the near future, and hence more possible blogging time!! :)