FAQs

Last night, just as the sleep goddess came to grace me by gently drifting me into divine slumber, a touch of brilliance flashed in my semi conscious grey matter - FAQs - frequently askable questions that is! I resisted the urge to get up and record my brilliance :-D and thankfully unlike most of the midnight profundities that come and go in semi sleep, this one spark stayed with me all the day, marinating in my endangered mind and thus, the pretext to skip blogging with something called "writer's block" doesn't happen todaySo back to where it is supposed to be - FAQs are the other version of the FAQs we have for others every where we go from businesses, to service organizations to individuals. These versions of the questions are the ones that we as people should keep asking to ourselves from time to time. My interaction with some specimens actually nudged me to think of why and how we need to do a little interrogation with ourselves time and time again, just to keep the stupidity quotient of ours in check. So here goes my desperate attempt to not be one of those specimens I encounter on a day to day basis - Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting  the Frequently Askable Questions. May be you can insert your own answers in the brackets.

*What are the easiest things to have?
 (Opinions and excuses)

*Why are people  nice to me?
   (More often than not, I'd want to believe that I deserve it - but the actual reason is that people are nice to me because they are well mannered and nice people to begin with and it is good if I respect that  fact and reciprocate that niceness.)

* Why should I be nice to nice people?

    (Because nice people are getting fewer and fewer and being nice to them encourages them to continue to be nice and shall probably inspire many others to take the same road.)

* Why should I not shout at soft people?

   (For obvious reasons. If you are a submissive person, it doesn't mean that you have a tattoo on your forehead that says "come and walk allover me" - it is not an accomplishment to vent your frustrations on nice people - if we are humans enough, we should use that energies to bully bullies :-D

*Why is it much easier to pass judgement on others while being blissfully unaware of my own faults?

  (Because, I as human am susceptible to a self love called "Ego". My ego rules my world and makes me blind to my own shortcomings, and just because I don't notice my faults, they don't cease to exist)

* Am I a hypocrite

(Yes, I probably am)

*Why do I extend my judgement skills to little kids?

(well, just because I don't discriminate)

*What is my statement mannerism?

(smile? ignoring others? rolling eyes ever so slightly when I see someone in good clothing, cars or homes?)

*Why am I curious about other people's lives?

(Probably because I am a miserable low life myself and I can know more about others and a) judge them as show offs b) be jealous of them and make lowly remarks to put them down  c) I don't have anything better to do with my time)

*Why do I take all the efforts to make someone feel bad?

( because I am jealous of them)

*What stops me from recognizing someone's accomplishments and paying a genuine compliment?

(a) My self love which warns me that saying something nice to others will make them look down upon me b) I just don't see much of appreciable work around me c) ignoring others' good qualities makes me deal with my own lack of them.)

*Why don't I say sorry or thanks as often as I am supposed to say?

( a) I am impeccable and I don't need anyone's favors  b) I don't have a habit of apologizing for others' mistakes and thanking for what I rightly deserve to get.)

* If there is one thing I can do - what will it be? Will it be for myself? for my family and friends? or for the world? Will it be for revenge and hatred or for love and kindness?

*Why do I behave like I am here to stay and I why don't I realize that I cannot take anything that I accumulate with me?

  ( Because I am a fool!)

*Why do I rewrite rules for myself?

   ( for my own convenience.)

* Why do I overly defend something I do or say?

 (May be the pesky conscience is flashing a "guilty" flag!)

* Why do I see negative things around me more than the positives?

(because I am a negative person)

Well, there are some more that skip the mind at the moment - but I shall one day, make a laundry list of positive FAQs inspired by the wonderful people I ran into :-D

Keep the FAQs rising and keep finding the answers. God Bless.

Newness

Honestly, 2012 doesn't feel like a New Year. My family was here last night - we waited till 12 midnight, cut the cake and did the celebratory kick off of the year with something sweet and then everything magically seemed to have settled into a harmony. There were no resolutions made, since I know I am very prone to breaking them - instead I thought I'd approach the New year with a normalcy and a little effort to be as productive as I can be. So, internet time should be curtailed to blogging instead of Facebooking or Youtubing! The biggest challenge of my day to day chores is to scour the dishes - I seem to enjoy the chopping and cooking, but cleaning is a totally different animal - and when the cleaning involves dishing, it is a nightmare of the first order. I have a momentary block to reach out for the dirty dishes - and then I ignore it and reach for them - pumping foam onto the scouring pad and wiping away the pots and pans - Boring I know - both dishing and blogging about it like it is para sailing where you get to see an awesome view of the world below while defying gravity! :-D Okay, back on track - I had to mention dishing because, today I seemed to have consciously not let any of them pile up in the sink - the moment something hits the sink to be cleaned - it is cleaned. And considering the fact that I cooked three meals for 8 people today - I am awfully proud of the "operation dishing". As mundane as boring this exercise seems to be, it did drive home a point to me - when you do things when they are to be done, the effort taken to do them seems to cut into a fraction of how much tedious it gets when you procrastinate it. Imagine - one deep sink, piled up with pots, pans, dinner plates, water cups, mugs, cutlery - some of them tilting and overflowing the sink in an odd angle - the sight seems to make the whole surrounding a mess - forget the surrounding - the whole house a mess. When they are promptly attended to and put away, I was amazed at how vast the whole counter top and the kitchen looked and how well kept the home seemed. So, the very obvious lesson reinstated itself into my little brain today. Do what needs to be done when it needs to be done. Did I tell you, I am always preoccupied. ALWAYS - my mind is so volatile, extremely infidel if I could say so. It keeps jumping from a branch of thought to another - almost like a monkey haywire in a banana grove. Thoughts keep coming into my mind without a break - so I do have an attention span of a five year old when it comes to staying in the moment. Sometimes I drag my grey cells to be in the moment. It tires me since that is going against my core. So, I thought - may be all connoisseurs  of  arts like reading, writing, sculpting, singing, painting and the whole nine yards are actually thinkers? Okay, why should I be partial to arts? All science professionals as well are thinkers - the architects, scientists, programmers, mathematicians, teachers - you get the idea! The other day, I had this funny thought that crossed my mind - I wanted to say out loud that I am a "Thinker" - and just for a flash of a second I paused and thought about what being a thinker actually means. And, to my disbelief, I immediately discovered that being a thinker doesn't mean much at all - being a Doer is what walks away with the cake. The other day I was pitching in my language love saying that the best of ideas are futile if they are not articulated! - may be the best of ideas are futile even when they are articulated - not until and unless they are executed. So from dishing to blogging - my expectation for 2012 is as simple and complicated as it can get - "Keep thinking, and keep executing what you are thinking as you are thinking. The heap of teaspoons that end up in the dish don't end up there anymore. I slather them with soap, rinse them to a shine and place them in the caddy to dry -  only hoping that the debris of thoughts that pile up in the mind would be handled in a similar fashion.

I don't do the dishwasher - (LOL) sounds funny but what I meant to say is that the dishwasher somehow complicates the already complicated task of dishing.  :-D

Here's wishing a wonderful 2012 and may 12/12/12 come and go - making a ridicule of itself!

God Bless.

DeGeneration.

The disdainful walk,

The chewing of gum

As a statement of rebellion.

Bullying their way

Through discussions

Opinions and observations.

Monkeys on hormone high

Making rudeness their language.

Vandalizing etiquette

Walking over manners.

Are these attributes of Juvenileness

Or just a general Attitude

That cusses with profanities

And calls it the language of coolness?

From when did politeness and respect towards others become so outdated??

Nostalgia

Being a small towner had its great advantages. Almost every one I ran into knew my father. People were friendly, neighborhoods were closely knit and the peace and quiet of being in a suburb prevailed. going to school in a manually pulled rickshaw was a lesson of life too..though it seems almost inhuman now to think of one man riding a carriage of half a dozen kids back and forth from the school that was in the literal outskirts of the town :-) I used to sit at the end of the coupe, looking out longingly at wall posters of movies, graffiti and the random cattle grazing on the sides of the road. Streets were not as busy, people weren't either. School was the crux of excitement - it opened me to a vastness that figuratively found place in my heart. Huge campus, neatly stacked building and a portico overlooking a painstakingly nurtured garden of roses and lilies. The one thing that held my attention for the biggest point of time was the statue of Mother Mary, holding Jesus Christ. It was built with great aesthetics, looked like a shallow cave paved with stone bricks on the outside almost feeling like a shell in which Baby Jesus was cradled. I used to walk into the premises, eyes fixated on the statue - observing the Anglo Indian teacher and sisters that stopped by to say a silent prayer. They used to close their eyes, move their lips in a hushed prayer and bring their wrists upto their shoulders in a mesmerizing movement. The little girl in me was endlessly charmed, to a point where I used to do a funny and incorrect copy of the movement. I was too young to understand religion but Jesus was making his impact on me surely and slowly.

There used to be random questions to my parents - how do you guys look at sending your kids to a Christian Missionary School? Don't you think they'd be brainwashed? etectera...I am eternally thankful to my parents for not letting narrow outlook curb our development as human beings. I was raised as a staunch brahmin kid moderately following all the rituals of Hinduism but that didn't curb my love for a foreign faith that unfolded in the school campus. A dainty and long cross with Jesus adorned the wall, above the blackboard - and I subconsciously used to gaze at that cross while thinking about a math problem or cooking up an imaginative essay. Christ felt like a person in the class without actually being there all the time. I started believing that he existed in the little chapel, in the nooks and crannies of the campus and the Christmas season only reinstated that belief. The fattest of the kids used to get into Santa grab, there used to be hours of entertainment after the much dreaded half-yearly tests and the follow up of a substantial vacation always got the kids excited. The nativity scene used to be played with tennis rackets tied up at the back , cascading with sheer fabrics. A Jesus doll used to be placed in the center with the whole entourage performing in a trance. I used to get goose bumps just like I get now as I go back the memory lane. There were readings from the Bible, songs sung in the praise of the Son of God - the sound and the silence resonated with pure bliss - the bliss of faith. Christmas was a world of its own in the school in the little town. It was a phenomenon that enthralled a little girl to no end. It was a celebration of faith and love, it was indeed the most wonderful time of the year.

Fast forward a couple of decades - it almost feels like Christmas chased me and unfolds to me its many facets and angles. This experience is worlds away form that little idyllic setting but the spirit that it rekindles gets back a part of my childhood. Shopping malls and parking lots overflowing with patrons of Jesus, in the spirit of giving - under all the glitz and glamour of oversized Xmas trees and holiday grab - the spirit of the season seeps into my heart, magically transforming me into an eight year old that moved her hand clumsily around her shoulders. I stuff my shopping cart with random presents - toys, activity pads and a teddy bear for my little one, a hand written note for my love, Espresso maker for my best friend, skincare for my girlfriends on the wrong side of thirty, cook books and baking paraphernalia for my budding star chef God Niece, digital picture frame for a elder brother figure of a friend, Hello Kitty accesories for the kid's best friend, Lightning McQueen for her little brother, Ornate costume jewelry for the bracelet lover friend and odds and ends for the house keeper, the ballet teacher and the neighbor. I pause and think - what has Christmas come to mean for me? Did it really change much from many years ago? I ponder for an answer. I walk out of the cozy mall, busting at seams with the spirit of giving disguised as merchandise. I see volunteers ringing bells and making small talk at the entrance as they open door for Patrons that come to shop. Bits and pieces of the stories of generosity that flash on my comp screen around this time of the season pop up in my heart. I tuck a few dollars in the collection bin, and walk out only to see an overflowing bin of brand new toys donated for the toy drive at ToysRus. A warm feeling floods my entire being - the blinking lights shine in the background with busy shoppers hauling loads - I see them all in red and white and as slightly over weight - with kind smiles and loving gazes...Christmas emerges as more than a religious holiday, The spirit shines through, the trail of thoughts halt - a smile breaks on my pensive face - What do you want for Christmas? Pick something for under the tree, the significant other says...I politely turn down the offer, I seem to get more than I ever ask for during this time of the year - I get to sense the love, the spirit and most importantly, the feeling of being a child again:-)

To be continued.

I grew in a time age and place when being nerdy was the best thing a kid could do. Geeky kids who scored the most marks were teacher's pets and the envy and admiration of classmates. The first ranker would get the highest pedestal of respect in the class. So, it is given that a good report card and place in the top 5 ranks was every parent's dream. I do not recollect my mom sitting with me and making me do my homework - she would just check it at the end of the day, and that too till I was in middle school. Good result on the report card was mandatory though or else the kid would be lectured clear and loud about starting a cottage industry to sell appadams which is equivalent to the present day mom's threat of working in Mc Donalds. Running around in the streets with the pretext of playing was the recreation. There was no ballet, art or tennis involved in our day to day routine and hauling a bag load of books back and forth from home to school was the only activity - amid all this expectation on academics, I strayed on to the path of color, sketch and paint. One fateful afternoon in my second grade, it clicked to my little grey cells that I could actually recreate, or attempt to recreate the painting of a little girl in a frilly dress and a bonnet that adorned my notebook cover. I promptly began to draw on a piece of paper - the teacher, who was filling in for an absent colleague, walked to my table, looked at the picture and asked if I drew it. My hazy, unformed ego was flattered and thus the self taught, mediocre, imitation of an artist came into being. Ever since, I tried to copy the images of Gods and goddesses on the complimentary calendars that decorated our blah walls. Sometimes they turned out good, sometimes bad and at other times they were down right ugly - but who was paying heed anyway about the quality of those sketches? Art was my escape, it was my fulfillment. It was a bonafied testimonial to my self discovered talent. I was at it consciously, subconsciously and every level of consciousness in between.

In the meanwhile, many assessments came and went and there was the pressing pressure of academics as usual. I think somewhere down the line, the integral part of art in a child's life was totally undermined. Actually, it did go unnoticed till it dawned upon me that, though I am a self taught artist, I had it in me to teach the same technique to my child and see her appreciate art if not excel at it. Now I started teaching little kids - as little as 3 something and it does sound very ambitious and pressing to teach a barely 4 year old the nuances of art - but believe me,

Self worth

I once tagged a family member as the most intelligent person I'd known - this intelligent person in question is a one digit ranker in the famous IIT JEE, attended an Ivy league school on full scholarship and finished his PhD and went to become a very sought after researcher in his field - all from the humble beginnings of a small town boy from India. Now - this most intelligent person I know came back to me saying that he is not the most intelligent person I know - in fact one of his seniors from IIT who happened to go to school with me is the most intelligent person I know. Well, the person I'd mentioned as intelligent is a very straight forward no nonsense person and would not waste time in false humility. So that got me thinking! I had the good fortune to know another older person in my social circle who basically does not have any illustrious achievements to his kitty and barely talks sense in his egotistic conversations - I am sure, he would rate himself as the most intelligent person I or anyone who knows him knows! Complicated indeed! So what is up with how we rate ourselves? Well, my ponder attempts to unearth this mystery. Let's put it this way - I thought I was a good singer till I heard those little kids in the reality shows sing - I thought I was a good writer till I read the numerous talented bloggers on the world wide web and I thought I was a good artist till I saw some amazing works of art by budding students in an art gallery. When we are a the proverbial frogs in the well - we are the rulers of the well...but we are in such ignorance that there is a whole world that exists beyond our little well. Let me not boast too much about how mature I am for my thirty four year old head - but I do think that I's seen enough of the world to rate myself humbly - and truly humbly. As this special species of homo sapience, we are susceptible to immense self love. When my five year old plays 'angry birds' on TV - she talks about strategy - she blabbers in a mock sophisticated tone trying to teach me the strategy of knocking those 'green piggie thingies' (as she calls them) and every time I win - she duly takes all the credit - "Look" - she exclaims, her face beaming in all that self appreciation "Good, you listened to me - that is the advantage of following my strategy" (did I tell you she has a good blabbering vocab that the language loving momma is proud of) - the other day I told her that she needs to read bigger syllable words like a friend of hers - my point was not to pitch another little girl against her but to tell her that it is always a good practice in life to acknowledge someone who is better than us and try to learn from their example. The toddler got mighty upset. I had to explain it to her that we are not and we cannot be the best in every thing. Between my little girl and my most intelligent relative, I could pretty much figure it out - that it comes naturally to all of us - the art of appreciating ourselves and rating ourselves as the best human beings in all walks of life - but what we need to do is cultivate a sense of how legitimate our self determined self worth is - I only wish that comes naturally to us as well - but alas - it doesn't. When our vision of the world is smaller, our image of ourselves is larger than life - and as our vision of our words expand, we come to realize that we are not spinning the world and what we are is a bird dropping in an ocean:-) How we love ourselves is inversely proportional to how much world we have seen. So the next time we come across, a pompous, self loving egotist - we don't need to put him in his/her place -we should just take mental notes not to transform into those pompous, self loving egotists. After all - rising above the self love is what makes us live a better life and spread the love.

Ponder

This is going to be a very hilariously ironic blog for a overly verbal and vocal person like me, but just for the fun of it, I want to attempt to ponder on the 'expression in action' thought. I think it is a law of physics that opposites attract and to me, attractiveness lies in using fewer words and more actions. Years ago, as a student of language, I used to wonder why my writing instructor used to insist on "Show - Don't tell" exercise while writing. So, instead of saying a flower looks red, the writer should show the hue - probably by describing the hue and not using the word red - tricky isn't it? But then I ended up reading a short story by a creative director of a successful ad agency - The story deals with an abduction. The writer told the whole story without using the word abduction or any of its remote synonyms. I don't know how much of the craft of writing I picked up there - but I did end up being a good reader - my workshop had changed the way I read - not just mere words but the world around me as well. But like I said, this is going to be an ironical blog - so I should admit that I love finding words for people. I am usually the one who supplies words to people who stumble with finding the right word to describe or express something. But ironically, I also realized that in this super fast era of mobile phones and SMSing, we did end up being more about talk and less about action. There is eloquence every where - there is better copy being written for sales pitches. FB status messages baffle me for the kind of articulation this generation has. Just about every thing around me from user manuals to best sellers got better in the craft of words. Ever read Steinbeck? The first book I read of him left me so immensely charmed because of the choice of words. They are so simple and not as flowery or articulate as, say, J K Rowling - while I do not mean any disrespect to Ms. Rowling and her super human spin of imagination and craft of words, I just mean to drive home the point that sometimes, it is not how you say it - it is more about what you are saying. I just hope that this era of communication doesn't take away from the more profound 'action' part that is more essential than anything else. I used to write essays in grade school - we were graded more for the craft of words than the thought or the passion for a given topic. There are hundreds of people around us that do things for us - they might not really open their mouths and tell us how much they love us or what we mean to them - but in their most sincere way, they would pack our lunches, tip toe while we sleep or may be pray for our well being and bask in our smiles. There are millions of little expressions of love that are not captured and condensed into words that miss our notice. There are less articulate people with more intense emotions that bloom into simple actions of love and affection. In fact, there is more action in this world that goes unnoticed than the words that get the royal treatment. We as a generation, have bit into the 'articulation' so much that we are just shutting our minds to things that are unspoken. I think that all eloquence in the world cannot hold a candle to a sincere action. I am guilty as charged for talking more than acting - which I think is the down fall of the world today. May be, we should all focus more on doing things than talking about them - may be we should stop and feel the love that is being expressed in little acts. Helping hands are better than praying lips, thoughtful actions are better than beautiful words:-) Ironical? Indeed!!

This and that.

Sometimes, it becomes hard to write. The ideas cross the mind and vanish into oblivion within no time. There are people who inspire to think, to love and to rebel, there will be stories to tell, opinions to express and observations to record but it just becomes hard to write. Which kind of makes me wonder if having a routine and a commitment to be answerable is the only way one can be at their productive best. But blessed are the self motivated, self committed folks - the few of those folks who change the world for people like me. God bless their grit, their tenacity to outdo themselves and their love for living a meaningful life. On that note, to the few regulars here, I wish to apologize for not taking the blog seriously, since I notice that my quality of life improves when I ponder aloud on the world wide web.. It is almost like a soul searching monologue that the leading lady rattles in daily soaps. When I don't write, I feel a part of me missing from my being, so I hope to keep my commitment to write, as often I can, as much as I can. Thanks for the time you invest in my ponders and for the said and the unsaid comments - unsaid comments as well - since I believe they'll reach me somehow and make me better at my mediocre thoughts.

Much has happened over the course of the past few months. There were constant ponders in my mind's world about my choice of being a stay at home mother, the world around me, the art of raising kids, the tact of avoiding arguments and and most importantly, the life skill of knowing and understanding the people that make your life. Aarti had started her regular school as a kindergartner. It is just so liberating to walk out of the house early in the morning and to see little children marching to school like ants. Parents walk them - there is so much promise in the day when you look at it through that scene - children who have no sense of time pausing to jump in the puddle formed by the sprinkler on the sidewalk or to pluck the random dandelion to wish upon. Almost all of them look so happy to be marching to school. Some ride their colorful bikes and some come on their roller shoes, and once the bell rings, the whole scene comes to a hushed silence. I walk back home thinking about all the lessons that my little girl would get etched onto her mind in the process of growing up and finding something meaningful to do. I make a mental note to introduce her to classic reads, to make her paint and sing and to do all I can as a mother to make my little one give her personal best to her life. I read to her, I help her to read and instruct her diligently about washing hands and saying thank yous. But I see that no matter what I teach her, the things she learns are the ones that she sees me do. She doodles all the time, just like me - she likes nail polish, is into cooking and when she talks to kids younger to her, she uses the same words of endearment that I use and imitates my mannerisms to the tee. parenting is indeed a very serious job - we unknowingly leave so many scratches on their tender minds and leave them to live with that damage. I have to admit that I am being much more careful about what I say and how I say it in my daughter's ear shot - which makes me second guess myself about what I say out of her ear shot - like they say - a child gives birth to a mother! :-)

On a different note, I also realized that there is an element of good in every bad we notice. Sometimes we are so hard wired to see things in our perspective that we don't really see things for what they are - we especially do this mistake when we deal with our close associates - friends, spouses, parents. And when the mind is seeking the things that it doesn't like, it sifts through a lot of good to get to that little bad that is left back. when we look at what is not working for us, we just magically become partially blind - which causes great distress to ourselves than to anyone else. We confidently forget that there is so much in us that might not be liked by the people around us. I was just thinking - how blissful this world would become if we are a little more open in our mind's eye to look at things the way they are than to attach our own baggage to it. It is an exercise we all need to consciously practice.

And as a conclusion to this aimless ponder, I just wanted to say that envy seems to be the resident ruler of all vices. There is so much of it that I see in the world. I read somewhere that it is that fine art of counting another person's blessings. I see people who get insecure about other persons' achievements and accomplishments and take it as an insult to themselves. When each of us are concentrating on what is served on our plate, we'll have a hearty meal and a healthy mind. As much as we try to be better, we are all humans - but the uniqueness of being a human is that you get the opportunity to make a choice - a better choice, a sensible choice! I think if we look at others' happiness as our own, we have arrived. Or at least, we should stop looking at it as our misery. I hope that no one ever stoops to a level where they find happiness in someone else's misery.

Phew...that sums up the overly corny entry - Here's to a hope to find the inspiration and the will to write - regularly:-)

Journey

When thoughts pour out

Without a care,

No traces of mistrust

Just a will to repair -

Little peeves

Come peeking out

Letting you gaze

Into my world.

I wind down the window

Of my automobile

Facing the other side of the road.

While you steer away

In the opposite direction,

Window still wound down -

We look at one another

With reassurances galore.

Our journeys

Take the same road

You to this end

And me to that....

But there comes a time

When we come face to face

And we magically see

The destination we are set to reach.

For such moments my friend

Thanks to the high Heavens.

Thanks to whatever it is

That bestowed me with you.

Ponder

As I age, I notice - that what we talk speaks a lot about who we are and while we talk, we actually put a display of our thoughts - like a scan of what we would go through in our minds while we speak. And in my day to day life, I see them all around me - People who talk like they mean it, talk and don't know why or what they talk, people who talk sense, nonsense, people who talk out of their hearts and then some who do through their backsides. Here's a run down of the specimens in my research.

The weather reporter - I know of a person, a sweet, diffident one - that comes to me every time we cross paths and gives me an analysis of how I look. The person would walk to me, greet me in the sweetest smile and tell me how I look for the day. "You look tired today" "You look dull" "You look really fabulous in dangle earrings, you should wear only dangling ones" "You look pretty today - keep wearing this top" " you gained weight from the last time I saw you - you look fat" - the report goes on and on - mostly like a under enthusiastic weather reporter reading out the daily forecast. The only problem I have with the reporter is that on an average day, unless I am sedate on pain killers, I do know if I feel or look dull, fat or tired. I don't need a reminder of how I look every time someone sees me, (specially, if that someone sees me on a daily basis) -as to what kind of a look I am wearing for the day - chances are, I peeped into the mirror on my way out of the house and even if I didn't, my look for the day will not effect the day in anyway.

The Quiz Master - The quizzer needs to know it all - and at once. In the first meeting, the quizzer would ask you how old you are, why you are that old, how much your husband makes, how much you paid for your new refrigerator, how often you clean your house etc....if you give the quizzer answers to all those questions - the quizzer will quickly encroach your privacy and ask you questions you might not ask yourself. The quizzer's main focus in life is 'others' and the no stone is left unturned till you let it all out. The quizzer, more often than not, tests your patience and your ability to get away with ambiguous answers and your knack to be politically correct. The quizzer has no respect whatsoever for your privacy.

The Butcher - You could use the term "Dockers" loosely for a dress pant - but not in the presence of the butcher - your every word will be dissected to fine pulp, pulverized to no end. The butcher's aim in life is to look for inconsistencies, mistakes, grammatical errors and low IQ levels in the person he is talking to and then attack them with a sharp as a butcher's knife criticism. If you post a general observation about terrorism - the butcher will quickly come in and smack you down for posting an observation and not really joining the anti-terrorist squad and laying your life down for the cause you passionately talk about. If you repeat wise words of a wise man - the butcher will still come in and tell you why the words are not worth being uttered by a wise man in the first place and then as to how much useless it is to repeat them by giving his own take on the said quote.

The wannabe stand up comedian - This specimen doesn't mean any harm - the only aim in his/her life is to pull humor out of every situation to make them look like messiahs of sense of humor. They want to be the life of the party, the pride of the group but somehow end up making irritable comedies of their own self. Sadly, they end up hurting feelings as well sometimes - all in the name of God blessed humor.

The Know All - from rocket science to Vedic texts, from para sailing to pet care - the know alls are walking, talking search engines that have enormous knowledge at their finger tips. You tell them about an observation made a couple of minutes ago - ofcourse, they had seen it, been there, done that, nailed it. Go figure...and most importantly, keep shut!

The parrot talker - Most of the time, you have a difficulty understanding what they are trying to say. The parrot talker has a halo effect around his/herself that leads them into believing that they are being this profound, though provoking conversationalists - but for the most part they lay eggs right left and center - they do provide a lot of comic relief though - from the more spiteful specimens.

The a$$ - This specimen walks away with all the awards - this is the one that has no consideration for the feelings of anyone - including children - and in his/her most vicious and vile self can call a child in glasses as an old man or make fun of a handicap with a trademark condescending humor. The a$$ handpicks topics of discussions - the ones that are sensitive and can cause discomfort to others and goes ahead making his point and crushing hearts and feelings in the process. The a$$ (animal, not body part BTW) will point out your shortcomings in a sadistic way and smiles contently as the people around them sigh in despair.

I have more that I should record, more thoughts that hit me. Shall probably revisit this - but this is an attempt to come over the writer's /thinker's block.

Aim

Taking lazy turns

Around bustling isles,

Steering way through

Busy streets,

Steaming veggies, brewing tea!

Changing sheets

And dusting furniture,

Teaching alphabet, singing lullabies,

Cooking meals and pruning shrubs,

washing clothes, scrubbing tubs

Reading poems and writing blogs -

It lingers through little tasks

Triumphs in errands

And thrives on wee joys,

My Ambition - or lack thereof!