Feb 26, 2010

Notes from a week of illness

Warning: Slightly gross. Only slightly.

You know you are a bachelor staying alone when (aka "Notes from a week of illness"):

* You go to the doctor feeling feverish, she asks whether you can get admitted for 2 days, and the first thought that crosses your mind is "Do I have two pairs of washed undies at home?"

* Of course, the second thought that crosses your mind is "I should call my parents"

* You don't get admitted, ask the doc for some pills instead, come back home and see that you did not have two pairs of washed undies, pat yourself on the back for the amazing foresight in not getting admitted, also rap yourself on the knuckles for the lack of foresight in having clean undies, and proceed to dump a ton of clothes for the maid to wash.

* You start to worry about food. Ordering doesn't make sense because the food would be oily and spicy, the one place which makes palatable non-oily non-spicy food doesn't deliver (even when told it is a matter of life-and-death), and you are too weak to make any of your own.

* You order idlis, find they are rock solid, grumble you can make better idlis, but are too lazy to bring out that idli plate that your mom lovingly bought for you, even when you get readymade atta.

* You buy satthu mavu kanji powder mix, manage to make some puke-inducing kanji, and start trying different combos with it to make it taste a bit different - so you mix it with Real Orange juice, Amul Kool, Curd, Buttermilk; you still end up being bored of that kanji.

* You finally get fed up of all this, buy half a dozen bananas and 2-3 packets of Maggi and voila, one day's meal is taken care of.

* You start getting bored of staring at the ceiling; you can't watch TV because your eyes start to burn, you can't play games on the comp because your eyes start to burn, you can't read books because your eyes start to burn; You curse yourself for not learning to appreciate music in your life.

* You start to wonder whether getting married might not be such a terrible thing, especially if someone else can make that stupid kanji for you.

Feb 12, 2010

If it's February, it must be...

If it's February, it must be... you guessed it, one more whiny rhyme on my spectacular lack of success on the mushy front...

I know it's not Feb 14 yet, but wise guys celebrate (or whine about) the V-day 2 days in advance so that we are done by the time the Senas come up with their lame-ass protests... 

Don’t mind people, but here we go again!!!
And no, am not talking about my weight gain
I am whining about something far, far worse
It seems I suffer from this inexplicable curse
Which makes all my sad cribbing go in vain...

Some of you may find this more than a bit shady
That I have been bitching since, what, 2008 A.D.?
You start to wonder, what’s taking him so long
And whisper, “Maybe there is something wrong
Worry not, I’ll put your fears to rest, my dear lady...

Now, I may often sound like a naughty one
But my mom’ll exclaim “He’s a chamathu son”
So, you see, I’m not really that much of a rebel
It’s just that you got to get to know me well
And then I promise, we’ll have loads of fun!

So I am on a quest to find the mythical “true love”
Let me frankly admit, I seriously have no idea how
You see when it comes to that thing called romance
I’m the guy they look at and snigger, “Not a chance”
He wouldn’t know love if it hit him like a cow!

Mom says “you had your chance, but that was #epic fail”
Losers like you should be thrown in a singles-only jail!
Know what’s lately making me a lot more deranged?
My mom’s started making plans for an “arranged”
And, on my love life’s coffin, she’s hit the final nail...

So tall or short, thin or fat, dark or fair
I can tell you, seriously, I don’t bloody care!
All I’m asking for, is an independent mind
That’s what’s proving impossible to find
Is it just me, or are those really rare?

I know this is not propah poetry, 
what with no metre, 
but hey, I am no peter, 
I make it sound like rap, 
or more likely crap, 
to me if it rhymes, 
it is enough to commit poetical crimes!

Feb 4, 2010

Why am I a financier - Part II

There are days when I really wonder whether I am in the right job. Days like these...

Am currently reading a not-so-long legal document. Hardly 60-odd pages. I am not that much of a speed reader, but I do average about a page-a-minute if it is a Chetan Bhagat kinda novel. But this document has taken me two whole days and a lot of hair pulling.

I don't know if I am in breach of any confidentiality provisions, but the clause I am quoting is generic enough to hopefully not land me in trouble.

Here's the original clause:

"Notices or other communication given or made under this Agreement shall be in writing and delivered or sent to the relevant Party at its address"

The revised version reads:
"Notices, demands or other communication required or permitted to be given or made under this Agreement shall be in writing and delivered personally or by registered post or by courier service or by legible telefax addressed to the intended recipient at its address"

Now I start thinking what other possible way of delivering a Notice (note the capitalized 'N' in Notice... it means it is not just any notice, it is the defined Notice!).

Then I start thinking of carrier pigeons...

Which leads me to "Kabutar Ja Ja Ja"...

Which in turn leads me to dream of Bhagyashree and drool...

And her "Himalayan Blunder"...

Which sets me off thinking about how marriage, in general, can be a Himalayan blunder, irrespective of whether your spouse is named after said hills...

Which in turn reminds me that one of my friends is getting married...

And therefore I should try to get a day off and attend it if possible...

And I will get to take a day off only if I finish my work fast...

Which brings me back to the document that I was attempting to read through in the first place...

Only for another such clause and its revision to set me off thinking another chain of random thoughts...

I am not done. Or rather, I am done for.
PS: Earlier posts on legalese: here and here