she was sixteen,going on seventeen...

i turned twenty.

aah! i can purrfectly understand that horrible gasp!! those raised eyebrows!!! that popping of eyes!!(oh,thats the way they normally are? ahem..) my mistake people,i shouldn't have opened the post in such a bland way.i should have prepared you for the truth, i should have broken the news mildly. but the world, my dear fellows,is unfair,unjust. its a hard world....



so, i turned twenty...now,thats two-oh.not too old ,as some people were kind enough to point out. the horrible thing about being twenty is...oh, make that into plural, the horrible things about turning twenty are..read on.

so,are you twenty yet?? if you are then you will know the feeling. the whole thing about not being a teenager is a sad affair..till 11:59:59,on the day before my b'day,i was clutching on to the nineteen..(teen,mind you) status and then,time cruelly snatched away teen from me. yea, that ear piercing nahiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii .......was most probably mine, stop wondering.

men realise they have turned twenty when they get somewhere around fifty,they say..so i don't think they are now nodding their heads in agreement with my woes.but hey, if you do nod, no problem. it is good exercise too......
the fact that i was not a teenager anymore wasn't that scary. it's nice.you are a grown up. you get to do a lot of stuff you were too young to do at the time when you wanted to do it..like cooking, taking care of the house, taking decisions for youselves,getting involved in serious family matters,sharing responsibilities...
ok.now you get me.

the scariest part is i don't feel like i am twenty. i feel just the same, refusing to change.you will say,"what is the big deal?? you turn twenty,then tweny two, twenty four,...,thirty, forty...fifty..ah then you are back to being a kid again...it's fun!!!" you are not helping.so not helping.

but i haven't a time machine,nor lily potter's ability to stir up potions which will keep me 19 always..but it was fun,being a teenager.school was fun.it was fun to read everything with a teen tag to it(without the accompanying sigh nowadays).being old enough, that was teenage. the other day, i was visiting this friend's profile and saw that she was into the orkut teenage girls and guys community, and i was about to join, then..........sigh!!!

i was chatting with another little friend of mine,she is fifteen,(darn!) and during the course of the conversation i happened to say".....i am twenty, who was he kidding??" don't mind the context.the thing is..she laughed, until tears rolled down from her cheeks, and she ROTFL, patted me on the back and said " good one!! oh, you are funny......"

she thought it a joke me turning twenty. she will be mentioned in my will.

i hope as i grow on,..er...to being thirty and fifty and so on, i don't forget how it felt to be thirteen and nineteen and in between...right now, i might as well as drop the "why me" and get on with the life of not being a teen....


aw..but do i still have to cook??????

its raining cats and dogs.....

ah! wasted almost 15 minutes trying to remember my password!!! i was for a moment thinking, did someone hack my account?? unfortunately, no one bothered to do so. good.

so!! its monsoon, and its raining here now, as i am typing this....it must probably be raining there, if you are reading this(:p) hehe.....but, the title fooled you. this entry is not about rain....its about cats and dogs...

what about cats and dogs??

well, the train of thought started of like this....in a conversation...which is listed below.
characters: me(obviously), and a very good friend of mine....(again,obviously)

i just referred to my best friend as a very good friend of mine. shes gonna kill me. in my defense, i was just being...er...less embarrassing!

here goes..

me: 'lo! wassup dudette? (actual words: hey sree! entha pani??)
sree:_________________

(no, she is not calling me any swear words, wch is being indicated by a line..no, actually, she has a unique way of talking, and i find it difficult to imitate that and write it over here. anyways what she says is irrelevant and immaterial....and if u r tooooo curious, i will tell you that she was talking about cricket. she always is, if theres a match on. she will be talking abt the technical parts, me will be talking about the less technical ones..like for example, she will be talkin about how pathan bowled, i will be talking about how cute pathan looked while he bowled!)

so..more cricket news followed, then some local gossips, and stuff...smooth... smooth.... smooth....TADA...and i hear this..

someone:" grrr..screech!!@#$# meeeeow!!! meeeow!!screech screech@#$%@#!@#$#...tapad(poda poda) meeeeow......."

now, i am not and has never been an expert in understanding animal conversation. if it meows,its a cat.if it barks its a dog. thats all. i aint any pied piper.

but, two things are pretty clear from the above dialogue.
1.the speaker is a cat.
2. he doesn't like me.

my friend is the greatest cat lover of the century, and so she has a huge collection of cats ,in all sizes,shapes and colors, to my dismay. i am never too good with animals(and humans), so obviously, i was soo much irritated when her most favourite pet interrupted our highly confidential talk. males of all species should know better than to butt in while the females of any species talks..

the cat was obviously curious to know what was making his slave neglect him like that. wasn't the art of curiousity proved to be fatal to the feline species????

anyways, the conversation was cut short..er..short by usual standards, and i was left alone with my train of thoughts...this wasn't the first time this cat,(btw sree, he is a very sweet,cute and highly intelligent cat.please continue to be friends with me...) this cat, or some other cuts our talks...this was getting out of hand. i should do something. and i did. i blogged about the cat. simple. the cat has formidable teeth and claws, but he cannot read. simple and safe.

hmm...that sums up why i am not a cat lover. now why aren't i a dog lover?

it doesn't have anything to do with a stupid stupid idiotic dog chasing me around my house, my very own house, two rounds, until i was finally rescued by my brother.

i was, simply, if i must quote a famous author's words chumma,verum chumma walking around, poking my nose in what was apparantly none of my business, when this dog saw me. i don't know what gave him the idea that i was jobless and genuinely interested in him. he took it for granted tht i was ever too willing to be chased by him around the house. infact, he almost thought that was what i was living for..hmm...

my bitter experiences with animals, mostly cats and dogs continues...theres another dog in the scene who keeps barking while i am on call with another friend of mine. i heard recently that the dog died. may the souls around rest in peace...

thats all for now. i hope u got the idea that i keep a safe distance from all animals. you know what? i should keep a safer distance from social animals too.....

tata!!!


p.s. for any of the peta people reading this, no animal was harmed in the process of writing this blog. it is way too obvious that i was ill treated by the dogs and cats.anyone who know me personally would vouch for me that "i will never hurt a fly".. but then again, its not because i don't want to, but experience taught me that its not that easy to hurt a fly.

if cooks could kill!!

elooo people!!!! who are still with me, checking my blog occassionally. namovakam. jobless souls......

so, wondering about the title?

well, not all cooks kill. a very few do. the rest, if we are talking about those at tandoor, bimbis, coffee house, chiking and all, they definitely don't kill. they amuse. they please our taste buds. they excite our nasal senses. they make us wish we were some 20 kgs underweight. they make pigs out of us. but they don't kill.

but there are souls who cooks and kills. for example,mmm.. lets see...we'll look around for a cook who kills......looking...looking......looking.......ok, we got one. me.

i do make this a big deal. i simply can't cook anything. for one thing, i don't like cooking.i do come from a long line of people who were experts at cooking. my mom, who makes the world's best fish curry....my grandmothers and great grandmothers,my cousins (btw, one of them accidently made uppuma one day, and till date, no casualities has been reported, so compares himself to our beloved nalan,whenever he gets a chance...) and last but not the bit least, my loving sister, who has set up a standard for me to overcome. her cooking is famous, her passion for cooking even more famous..i hate that. no, not the cooking.

then what do i hate?

the legend.
the one and only.

the legend is that, a loong time ago, (ok, i can use once upon a time here), certain unfortunate relatives of ours came to our house one day, hoping to meet my mom and dad, hu had fled..er..i mean gone to some faraway place, leaving the fate to chechi, or the other way round.

these poor souls, so, found at the doorsteps,a very happy and pleased sis, who was at a very dangerous age. she had just learned how to turn the gas knobs on and off..(btw, i wasn't anywer near planet earth that time,ok?)

pretty dangerous things, these knobs. once you get to know how to turn them, u get this uncontrollable itch to do it again, again, and again. then, at one fragile moment, u get the idea, "thy shall cook"

so did she..well, actually, she made some rice and curry, with the available provisions. although she denies it, , i know that she had some help from the ladies in the group. because the people who were her victims, are still very much alive today....

so, this story springs up, whenever the subject of cooking turns up in the family gatherings and also family meetings, not to mention roundtable conferences, kitchen talk and , gossips along with dining table chats etcetra etcetra...(is that the spelling?)

SO. SOMETHING HAD TO BE DONE HERE. my pride was at stake. it was an impossible feat, but i had to try. once. that risk had to be taken. red alert was given. everyone was cautious. ready for anything. and on one fine day,ordinary,simple happy day....i cooked.

no, no details about the dish, the tedious and boring, timeconsuming impatient ordeal of cooking. no descriptions about my mother's exasperte swear words. no. i will spare you all that..

i chose dad as my victim.

he sat at his table, and now i wish i had taken a photo of the look on his face. he had a look on his face. my my, did he!!!!

me:(gleeing) acha, try this out. i made it all by myself!!!

achan: (gulp) all by yourself?

me: sure. all. by. myself. no help whatsover. from none. this, my dear father, is entirely my creation!

my mom was behind the doors, all ready with the first aid kit,praying hard, bititng all the nails she had, praying for a miracle....

achan: (under his breath, to himself.) i love my daughter. i love my daughter. of course, it is my duty to encourage her. i do love my daughter, right? or may be i should just say she was adopted or something and get away with this.

as it turned out, he didn't do anything of the sort. he did the unthinkable. my brave father did the one thing no one has ever done before. and thanx to my mom's last time secret ingredients, he survived. may god keep him in good health. he will,as i now enter the kitchen only to take the plate, and drink water.

so...the conclusion????

taste bhi, health bhi....maggi is the best option, for me. and for those around me.!!!!!!
maybe the bimari of cooking tend to skip some generations???

;)

take care!!!!!