The worst things that can happen to a school girl!!!

PART 1: AUTO TALES

Hi all! The recent school get together I went to has played a huge role in me writing down some of the many memories I have about school. And you get no points for guessing- they are silly! And trust me, this would be the silliest of the lot :D

As we always say or as we all know, school days are the best days of one’s life. Thinking of it now, even I agree that those were the most carefree days of life. That time of life when mobile phones were something which big people or rich people possessed and internet was something which held answers to all your project related questions. Both of the above had no connection with each other and both didn’t qualify as necessities and “Things you cannot live without”. My life was much simple and was not spent in whacking my brains thinking, “Which would be my next FB profile pic ” :P

As a student, the main concerns I had included getting good marks or as my grandma terms it, “Be first in class and show them.” “Them” being the superset which includes all those who hurt me! Then, hurt meant, making fun of me, not waiting for me to eat lunch and many more similar serious concerns :P One more advice Mummy gave me and still gives me is “Make the class topper your best friend.” I find it extremely funny when she asks me to choose friends based on the weight of their marksheets. But her whole intention is good and the idea behind it is that, you do what your friends do and if they are studying and have goals in life, even you will end up like them.

I was this short and fat girl who had a very heavy school bag(now I know the reason behind my stunted growth :P I studied in an all girls school and was a nerd. But a very talkative nerd. I used to talk to anyone and everyone and even the teachers were not spared ;) I’m proud of my achievements :D

I was least bothered about the way I look, even though at times I used to feel why God has been stingy to me in the looks department, coz with or without makeup, I looked like I was just out of bed ! Thanks to those scary and bushy eyebrows and teeth which never stayed inside a closed mouth and was visible even when my mouth was closed :P I participated in off-stage items like essay writing and also drama. I really had a passion for acting and writing. I was never selected for any dance programmes and if you have guessed already,it is the height factor (ie., you do not get many girls who are as “tall” as me and so “You are not selected Gayathri”

One of the worst things that could happen to a school girl is being in the bad books of the auto driver or auto maman as I called him. As you must be knowing(if you remember my previous posts) I went in the same autorickshaw to school for 12 years! Every single year my Dad paid him well in advance for the repairs of the auto (Talking of my auto- IT WAS A MOVING MASS OF RUST!)Like the new gen bikes, which announces of its arrival with the irritating sound, (which the Yoyo dudes riding the bikes feel is cool)my auto made a lot of sound. It contributed to air and sound pollution and for the Malayalis out there- It reminds me of Dileep’s bus in Parakkum thalika. And it would also run on kerosene! How’s dat?

 Every single year my auto maman exchanged his auto for a “new” one. The new auto would be a replica of the older one, giving it competition be it in rust, or sound ;) He also had a lot of friends, mainly ‘girls’(Those 40+ women would be so happy at this usage :P )and they always got free lifts in our auto. He used to dislike me and the main reason was that I did not know what being punctual was. Of the 12 years, maybe at max 10 times I would be ready when he arrived to pick me. I’m like this only :P

So I get scolded by him and his friends who get free rides also get angry and shout at me! I am late to work all because of you! (Excuse me Madame? Do you know my Dad, who pays this auto driver MONEY unlike you?)So auto maman, his girl friends and all the other auto drivers who park near our auto also scold me! Howzat? Am I a chenda? (drum)Any Tom, Dick and Harry passing by can just scream and walk away?? Cool!! Cheetha kelkan Chanduvinte janmam iniyum bhaaki!

Next problem, automaman had a favourite every year. There is no criterion for selection but I was never even nominated :p These favourite kids get a few privileges.

1.              No scolding in case of late entry

2.             School bag and lunch bag(kit as we call it) would be carried by auto maman.

3.             Good behaviour which includes a smile on greeting (Yellow teeth!)

4.            Not addressed by name, but with Mole- which means daughter in Malayalam.

HOW RUDE!

People like me- who have been there right from three years of age in that rusty auto are looked at with anger and hatred. (But he loves my Dad- advance fee paying factor and my Dad always supports him when he complaints about me.)

So I had a gang of gals who got similar treatment and we suffered from acute  jealousy. I was not the leader of the gang and I rarely talked rudely to him (Reason? I was scared :P What other reason could be there ;))We took a silent oath that all his favourite kids would be our enemies for life and we expressed our hatred through bullying :P This included stamping them and never give them place to sit ;) So these autos have two seats, one being the main seat found in all autos and the other being the makeshift one. So to be sitting on the main seat is like an honour. Not everyone gets selected to sit on that special place. Either you must be among the oldest in the auto or you must have special recommendation from automaman himself or any of the usual main seat people. The most prestigious of the lot was the side seat near the entrance/exit where the senior most member sat.

I still remember each  and every kid I bullied(Maybe I should go find them and apologise like Ranbir Kapoor in Bachna Ae Haseeno :P )It was cruel but we gave what we got ;) We were bullied by our seniors. We threw stones at girls walking on roads, pulled automaman’s hair when he was driving and you wouldn’t believe it they even made up eat bubblegum! (What if we accidently swallowed it and died? :O ) So how I ended up being a” daada” or rowdy had a story. How I got the violent streak :P

There was one guy, who was about 7 years older than us. He had a younger sister who was in the same auto and when he ruled, she was treated as a princess and inspite of being in LKG, she always got to sit in the main seat. This guy was a real rowdy and went to a school well known for its naughty and dangerous guys. We were all soo scared of him that we always agreed to do whatever he wanted us to do. And we got paid, a small piece of bubble gum- Big Babool!. Wow!

One of my friends who was constantly teased and who ended up crying coz of this guy wanted to take revenge (Std III)and so soon as he “graduated” from the auto, we targeted his sister. Due to the lack of guts I did not play the main role, I was the sidekick. We made her cry and went home with a happy heart. But I ended up crying as her dearest brother called me up and started threatening me! Life of a bully is not easy folks. Moreover my automaman used to pinch me for each and every of our pranks- Why me? (And he had such long nails. Like witches. And the present state of my nails reminds me of his nails ;) )

But once I left the auto or rather was conveniently forgotten and new kids(4/5 LKG kids) admitted instead of me, Automaman really started behaving well to me.He had that affection. Afterall he was seeing me right from when I was 3 years old. Now he is old and sick and when we met last year he complained to my Achan that because of me he always got late! After all these years...hehe ;)

PART 2 : FAT AND SHORT

The next worst thing is being short and fat at the same time. I have never ever won a running race in my whole life! Even if I run with the fattest girl in class, SHE WINS! How unfair!

I still remember pleading to the girls and asking them if I could win just once. But girls being girls never let me! Also came the ego factor where they would look inferior in the eyes of our PE teacher if they lost to a fat girl with short legs. They were not ready to keep their marks and image at stake! Maybe this is the reason why I do not enjoy any sport !

When I was small, I used to be pushed and trodden upon often. When the bell rings after the break girls run and I do not come in the line of sight, I’m pushed, I fall down and get stamped. Life’s not easy people!

 PART 3 : TOUCH-ME-NOT

Another addition to this is an oversensitive girl who had an abundant stock of tears :p I was so obsessed by the idea of best friends. I was soo silly that I believed in one mantra- Everyone should have a best friend and he/she belonged only to you. Now I know that this applies for love and not friendship. You have only one lover at a time and that person is exclusively yours (On second thought, thats not really true. In the 21^st century we get to see people easily handling more than one gf/bf at the same time. With advancement of technology, where you have phones which handles multiple tasks and even human beings have become multitaskers. :P )

So I would like to apologise to all my unlucky best friends from school. I didn’t give them space and each and every one of them was soo suffocated that they deserted me. Each one of them took about a year to understand what they have got themselves into and they leave me for someone better(Do I sound like someone who just had a break up? :P )

I still remember this silly story. My “best friend”of some class got new friends when we got promoted to the next class and I was still writing her name wherever they asked for the name of your best friend(I’m not joking people. Slam books, essays, letter writing: everything asked for ur best friend’s name) One day, I went over to her class and asked her if we could have lunch together(we were in different sections)and she was like, “You go. I will come” That was enough to cut her out of my will.

This obsession started at a very young age. When I was in 2^nd std., we were asked to write an essay on “My Best Friend” and my best friend was the most popular girl in school. Did she know about it? No! Who cares? I had my own reasons for making her my best friend. Like,

1.              She was fair and pretty

2.             She had a car, driver attached :P

3.             The driver carried her bag to class and she sat at the back seat of the car all by herself! Wow!

4.            She spoke good English with zero grammatical errors  (Not that I knew anything about grammar)and she spoke in English to her Mom too :O (I used to hate my family for that. All of them spoke fluent Malayalam. How cheap! )

5.           She was always chosen to play the main role in plays.

My Mom read this essay and almost died laughing. She didn’t know that if I was her best friend, then it would be my passport to fame :P My cruel mother edited the essay and wrote about my real best friend who was a normal girl.

1.              She was normal looking and had a dusky complexion

2.             She travelled in my auto, driver attached.

3.             She carried her bag to class

4.            She spoke English which would have given Shakespeare and Wordsworth heart attacks :p and most of the time it sounded like Malayalam (Did  I mention that I spoke similar English?)

5.           She was never chosen for any plays and when she was it was for blink and you will miss her roles (Just like me ;) Refer “The Performer”)

So school life was filled with friends. My close friends and just friends were safe, they were not burdened with the responsibilities of friendship and they liked me. The poor souls, my so-called best friends were the ones in danger zone, who were over loaded with love and affection and care and possessiveness.

Gradually my brains started functioning and I understood that you cannot force people to love you like you love them. Or you cannot expect them to take your name and crown you best friend, just coz you consider them your best friend.

As someone said, if you love someone let them go. If they love you they will come back and if they don’t , they were never yours! The same applies  to friendship too. You should never suffocate someone with your love and friendship. You should give them space. They do have their own life to consider and all what matters is will they be there for you when you really need them and that doesnot include accompanying you to the wash room :P I got back to my senses and then started being happy with anyone and everyone. I had absolutely no belief in the concept of friendship as a few of my so-called friends started discussing behind my back about how silly I am and this made me look like a joker L  And towards the end of school life I gained one great friend who is still there for me in all my good and bad times and the same  God was generous enough to rekindle my belief in friendship and gave me three “best” friends for life, GADS, who taught me to trust again and love unconditionally) I still keep contacts with all my friends from school and these silly things hold no meaning anymore :D

 PART 4: TEACHER’S PET. IS THAT YOU?

Next comes TEACHERS. You shouldn’t be in their bad books and you should never be in their good books too ;)

When I was in the seventh std. I was very stuck up. I was made the class monitor and I used to be first in class. This made me think that I have conquered the world. I was the class teacher’s pet and even our Malayalam teacher liked me a lot and all this contributed in making me Ms. Arrogant. Then when I got promoted to std.8, I took a small portion of my arrogance with me and the same teacher ended up being my English teacher. I loved English and Maths and when I got 48 marks after Test 1, I wasn’t very surprised. I really worked hard on that paper. But the second highest was 44 marks and also I did not have extra ordinary marks for my other papers. Moreover many scored less marks for English. That was the beginning of the best days of school life. Everyone started saying that the good marks on my paper was because the teacher was partial to me and that I was roaming around boasting about my marks!  Many went with complaints to the teacher and someone went as far as complaining to the Principal(I still duno if this is true!)The teacher who should’ve been stern and asked the girls to shut up, went on giving explanations to anyone who asked about my marks. Some stupid girl went as far as stealing my answer paper which didn’t have the sheet which had 10 marks and the complaint which resulted was “There is some counting mistake. Gayathri has only 38 marks!” Hello people, I have the last sheet with 10 bloody marks, ok?? I was shattered when the teacher finally asked me, “Doesn’t anyone like you? All of them are complaining about your marks, instead of being happy for you.” Those were some  of the worst days of life. The silly and childish teacher started insulting me in public so as to prove that she was not partial towards me. She asks a question in class and even if I am the only soul to raise my hand, she would ask “Anyone else?” (Excuse me lady? Are you blind and deaf? I know the answer!) Then I stopped answering, I got bad marks for test 2 and nothing happened after that.

Then comes the story of the teacher I loathe!I’ve been taught by some of the best teachers in the world, in all senses and this lady doesn’t even deserve to be one. A teacher should be a mother, who forgives and forgets and corrects her students and not someone who will wreak vengeance and lives purely on ego! This teacher was a living example of ego and she still remains a nightmare. She was my class teacher in the 9^th std. and due to certain misunderstandings, my division got changed and I was put in another class and this dear teacher was under the impression that I asked for a change. I’m sure it hurt her ego, coz once I shifted divisions she started treating me differently. The misunderstanding story is as follows. My then “best friend”{she really deserves a Nobel Peace Prize because I literally suffocated her with my love. The feeling of friendship and care was not mutual and therefore, I kept complaining about our friendship. Thinking of it now,  I really pity the poor girl.}was in a different section and I was shattered. Divided by “divisions”! On meeting the teacher behind the shuffling, I complained and she took it seriously. I was joking and for the first time in forever someone took me seriously. A staff room discussion about Gayathri being unhappy in her new class and Gayathri wanting to shift classes due to the above reason paved way for my great few months at school. The villain of my story, like a hurt snake, was waiting for the right chance to pay me back and she started off giving me bad marks for an English exam, I did extremely well in. In the history of English literature, for the first time a teacher told the student, ie me, You should write minimum sentences in bullet points! And she said that she lost my answer paper which was submitted for re evaluation. Great!!

Then she constantly made fun of me during class and had this evil look about her. Once in class I was stting in the last bench and looking into my friend’s text book. I usually talk a lot but that particular day I was attentively listening to her. She accused me of talking and made me sit on the floor. Last bench to ground. After class, in Rajnikant style she told me something which implied, “Don’t mess with me”

The same teacher asked two other girls to sit on the ground the next day and they didn’t do so. Then why did I? Why was I soo obedient? I was not the only one who was targeted and hurt. There were many others too. And that included demotivating words and insults!

After few more months of similar insulting events, God got bored and sent in a Sister to teach us. That was the end of this teacher and  one of the best things I could ask for. Maybe it sounds silly, but such people don’t deserve to be teachers and she would also spoil the name of the entire teacher community.

[Got a bit emotional. Even now the sight of her just increases my blood pressure.I hate her! Phew!]

PART 5:PERKS OF BEING INVISIBLE

When in school, as you already know, I was a plain Jane with no talent. I was a nobody, a really talkative nobody. I am very sure that all the girls in my batch knew me because I did not spare a soul. I never dressed impressively and no one bothered to look at me twice.So we made it our duty to stare at and comment about all the good looking and well dressed girls in school and even those who dressed to show off. We ended up being style critics and this gave us soo much pleasure that we never were interested in guys.With so much to do and so many activities, no one really cared about or missed the presence of guys around. I swear it is not the sour grapes story and I am sure any girl who studied in an all girls school would agree with me here. School was heaven and I would never exchange it for co-ed

For about months after their classes start the students of Std 11.wore colored dresses to school. A friend of mine and myself made it a point to devote 10 valuable minutes of our day to observation, analysis and conclusion about the costumes and attitudes of these girls, in the morning and the same continued in the break time. We had a personal favourite who wore the weirdest clothes in town and even age and experience hasn’t changed her. Even now she dresses to show off and things which she considers as stylish would surely bring tears to your eyes. I know because we still stalk her on FB ;)[Jobless!]

I would be deeply indebted to this friend of mine-my partner in crime who was there for me always, mainly when I needed to pass a comment about someone or something or just giggle for no reason at all. Being the giggly duo got us into trouble many a time but we continued to “Pinch n; see”things, pinch being the signal passed :P

PART 5 : IF YOU GIGGLE TOO MUCH?

The story goes like this. Eighth std. marked the beginning of a very beautiful friendship which is still going on. We giggle for anything and everything and the very sight of the other person also makes us laugh. The reason behind this is a mystery.

So our class teacher had spies in the class who would report of the discussions going on in class. We had absolutely no idea of this. One fine day, when we took a break from giggling, we somehow ended up saying each other’s addresses and then pincodes and from then onwards, when we felt like commenting, the secret code would be the last number of our pincodes. So the tone went 851 and we laugh. For an outsider this would look so silly and Im sure people would start doubting. But only we knew about what was going on :p

Then the day came when we were called by our teacher who said that she received a complaint stating that we were talking in code language (Tell me people. 851 is all we said. How many meanings can it have in the same code language?)We were shocked. She told us that she expected great things from us and we should not spoil our future. (By saying 851? :O) The report was submitted by a spy who said that we have gangs who spoke in code languages (And smuggled animal skin!! How silly people can be!!) The spy is unfortunately the same girl who went over to the teacher saying my English answer paper has 10 marks less that what was actually written on the paper . I hate her!) And the best part is that both the girls who were with me in the 851 scam are now doctors and I myself am an engineer. So we didn’t spoil our future by saying 851 ;)

PART 6 : BOYS: SCARRIEST CREATURES ON EARTH

When you study in an all gals school, boys are always aliens to you. Not a single person who knows me now would believe that there was a time when I was literally scared of guys. Believe it or not. Till about 10^th std. I rarely talk to or even look at boys (So rare that I can still list down the names of all those who I talked to) Being very frank, no guy used to talk to me and one poor soul who actually came up to me and said “Good morning” for the first and last time because the shocked expression I gave only suits a question like“Will you marry me?” from him.

I was soo scared of guys and over the years and there was no reason for this. Over the years the plates have changed such that now boys are kinda scared of  me and my non-stop chatter attack.(Sadly.some guy somewhere is destined to bear this cross. Let us all maintain a moment of silence and pray for him :p Even I am scared when I think of the guy who would be ready to take up the risk of marrying me.)

PART 7: LOVE

According to my gang, loving a guy is unforgivable. Love is for girls who don’t study. That was something we held close to dear life.You fall in lovethen you are bad. Studious gals don’t fall in love and we  condemned every single girl who had a boyfriend. We never befriended anyone with a lover. This attitude made it extremely difficult to survive in college as there every other person had a lover or fell in love from college. Initially i had a really tough time accepting this. How can you fall in love? And the most depressing thing was people who had lovers got the best marks and topped the class. That’s not fair!On falling in love, guys do change a lot. They get serious about studies and strive to clear off their backpapers. Also you observe a considerable change in their attitudes and character. Wow!! Love is magical.

I improvised my principles- “Its okay to fall in love iff you will marry the other person.” I never expected myself to say such a thing even in my wildest dreams. I started supporting lovers and my closest friends had lovers. What a change :O

School life is really heaven. Most of the things we believe in, later in life has its  foundations in what we learnt at school and our experiences there. Some wrong things or bad experiences leave a mark forever but sometimes better things happen in life which helps you change entirely. Some of the things you believed in or thought formed the foundation of your very existence maybe the silliest and most absurd things ever heard of!

You gradually become open to change and looking back I laugh my head off as that Gayathri PK was someone totally different from the person i am now inspite of the current me having streaks of the old me.

Even though I am improving day by day and getting sillier and more talkative, my attitude and outlook towards life has changed a lot.I am still possessive about the people I love, but I do not suffocate them anymore. I am getting crazier day by day. But that’s me

I am like this only!

Hyderabad Diaries-Part 2

Hello! The story continues...

The second time I arrived at Hyderabad in July 2012, after my BTech, with just one goal in life, GATE! I would crack it and do my M.Tech. So I decided that I would concentrate only on studies and set out to Hyderabad. We went by train and was “fortunate” to have a family who was going for sight seeing. Dad Mom Daughter 1 Son-in-law 1 Granddaughter, Daughter 2

What a noisy crowd! It was more like a Rajashri movie where everyone loved everyone and there was happiness all around. The sil treated his pils as his own parents and they loved him like his dear son! Wow! How I wish my Dad got a sil like Niyasmon ;) They refused to call him anything but mon or son :P Wah wah!! The new gen granddaughter who can hardly talk would eat only if she was shown videos on youtube! Everything was fine till we settled down to sleep that night. I was on the middle berth and was holding on to dear life. To tell you the truth I am extremely scared to even get on the middle berth of the train. My biggest nightmare (one of them) is that the hook on which the middle berth is suspended would break and I would fall on the person sleeping on the lower berth. 

Just imagine :O

When I settled down on the middle berth with the help of Amma and prayed to all the Gods I knew. The lights dimmed and the lady who was sleeping on the lower berth started screaming, “Would this berth fall down on me?”

Dekh aunty! I agree I am fat! But I don’t believe I am fat enough to CRASH THE BERTH OF A TRAIN! Ok?? And that lady was voicing out loud MY FEAR! I tried to sleep, I could not. What if I fall down on the lady and she dies? What an embarrassment! Even if I was not imprisoned for murder, I would live a life where people would point in my direction and say “She fell on a lady and killed her!”

Then she started screaming, “Its soo cold..Allah..i will die..Ayyooo..why did I come for this trip?” And her daughters were not paying any attention to her drama, her husband was snoring and suddenly her elder daughter said, “Would you keep quiet?The baby cant sleep!”

WOW! Rajashri family in daylight? And at night, this is what happens? Then the lady called out to her sil to which the girl said, “Please Mom, let him sleep!” Aaha!! How sweet! Ammakk praanavedana, makalk veena vayana?

I was the only person in the area who was disturbed by the whining lady. Then the sil appeared in the dark like a knight in shining armour. He took the lady outside(and slapped her?). And I slept in peace. The next morning we heard all about it.

Niyas mon took me outside and rubbed my cold feet.

Niyas mon offered me his socks(STINKING SOCKS? Of all things? Yuck!)

Niyas mon called the attenders.

Niyas mon asked them to change the AC temperature.

Niyas mon saved the day!!

And then came the spoiler- the daughter told her Dad, “Dad, your wife did not let my husband sleep yesterday” Wow!! :P

What a trip! I could hear sounds in my ears after we got down at the station! They were chattering all the time throughout the journey! It feels really awkward being on the receiving end..Usually I target people ;)

 That journey to Hyderabad was an eye opener. I was pampered by my friends at college. When I’m sick, they feed me and make me glasses and glasses of glucose drinks. I never go anywhere by myself or even eat any meal of the day by myself. They listen to my non-stop chatter and even the smallest of my worries was given importance. 

From such a royal life I go to a place where no one has time to care about the other. The next door girls also from Kerala didn’t even have the courtesy to talk to us initially. And as the place lacked privacy, wait! Wait! When in NSS, I used to feel suffocated as once I had to live with 4 people in a congested room and now? A hall has been divided into small rooms for 2 using plywood planks. You cannot even tell a secret :P Thanks to my talkative and loud nature, the next room people hated me :D 

What more could people do, when I got a minimum of 4 calls from home and at least one from friends? I talk, in a “clearly audible voice” which can be called loud and maybe people found that disturbing. Actually the word maybe can be omitted from the previous sentence. I was widely hated initially :D There were no corridors. If you could call those narrow gaps between rooms which could fit a single person as a corridor, then you may! My only solace was the narrow space (narrow again!) outside the building which had the bin for waste and the wash basins.. YUCK!! And you get a view of the families in the next building. The speciality of this place was that there were no gaps between buildings. There would be a wall and within a foot distance there was another building. Congested place! L Thank God that the people there don’t speak Malayalam. I could pour my heart to the poor souls who called me and bitch about every single person there.

Ace Academy introduced me to a new set of people, the ones who were greedy for knowledge. I haven’t seen so many boys and girls so engrossed in studies. Even RAYS, where I went for Entrance coaching, which I thought was the abode of knowledge-greedy people, stood a step behind, as here no one wanted breaks and many didn’t even step out of the class room for a whiff of fresh air during breaks. Then came the long queues. At NSS, if class started at 1pm, I reach by 1:10. Here, class starts at 2, but people are there by 11. So that when the previous class students come out, they can get in and catch hold of the 1^st bench or whichever bench they wanted a seat in. Don’t misunderstand me but even I was among these bench hunters. There were these queues ie, when morning batch people got down, they let the afternoon batch people get in. So there would be two queues, one which comes down and the other which goes up. Its no less than Jallianwala Bagh Massacre but here it happens every single day! People are so hell bent on getting seats that in the process they are ready to shed blood. They push you and pull you and step over you. Kuch bhi karega for first bench!

Also there was another category of people who were actually sweet. Not the fake ones or the extremely pampered ones or the ones who behave sweetly to catch male attention but the genuinely sweet ones. Who really care for you and go that extra step to make you feel good. Wow! Initially I could not trust them.. People are usually good to you when the need a favour and I eyed these people with a big question mark. And finally on knowing that they have no hidden agenda, I realised that I have to get used to people,almost strangers, who don't really expect things in return. It was refreshing :P

I had a chance to visit Birla Mandir during that period. It was a really great place. The peace and serenity provided by the temple and surroundings really reminded me of the effect of Guruvayur, my favourite temple in the whole wide world. The temple was built of marble and the statues were soo beautiful that I forgot to pray and stood staring at the Gods! The main temple and the big statue there was sooo captivating that after stepping out of the temple I excused myself and went back into the temple and stood there looking at the idol.

The other temple which was really close to my heart was the Sri Shyam mandir. One of my most favourite temples in the world. We went there one day and taking a lot of time walked around the temple and prayed in peace. Even this temple is one of a kind. The atmosphere with the background music of bells gave me so much inner peace. And we once went during the noon and we found that the provided free food for poor people and anyone who visited the temple during that time. That was one time when I felt lucky and thankful for all the luxuries bestowed on me. We sat along with the people and had lunch. It was such a different experience and being philosophical the feel I got was in front of God, all of us are equal.

Enough of emotional stuff.

Those few months taught me a lot of things. I became independent and quit being the cry baby. I didn’t need a person to accompany me to places and I didn’t need a friend at arms distance to feel happy. I learnt to keep my comments and worries to myself and pour them out only to people who genuinely care and not to every other soul I saw. I was a changed and emotionally strong person on coming back. Another lesson I learnt was to ask people to go to hell :P I just loved that change in me. I was this person who always kept people’s feelings in mind before saying something to them. I always try not to be rude except to my family. But if someone deserves to be slapped(with words) you should slap them.

You know that I hate people whose behaviour depends on the beauty of the girl at the other end. Beautiful-sweet and drooling. Not beautiful – sarcasm and constant pestering with questions about the beautiful ones :P

Now you know which group I belonged to ;) I am not jealous(I would’ve been jealous if the guy i had a crush on, treated me badly :P But as 99% of the times, my crushes don’t know of my existence, I have nothing to be jealous about ;) )

I know that a group of girls talk about boys and a group of guys talk about girls. But a group of guys who talked of nothing but girls?? YUCK! Get a life people! “Gayathri, who is that girl you were talking to?” (Oh! You didn’t recognize Aiswarya Rai Bachchan??)

“Gayathri, why does *** always smile?”(Because she wants the world to know she has teeth!) One ‘I-know-I-am-handsome’ guy who was then my friend, had a serious problem. He could text me all the time, but when he sees me in person he doesn’t talk. Maybe he was scared and that is a valid excuse but I hate people who behave differently while messaging and in person. I feel it’s such people are hypocrites! So this guy explained that he is not talking to us because usually doesn’t talk much to gals and immediately a beauty passed and he went up to her and talked for an hour :P Moral of the story: A beautiful gal can change a guy’s principles in life ;)

I got soo damn irritated and then they made it a point to tell people that they were forced to talk to my friend and me just because we kept seats for them! #$&&$#@!* and a lot of similar comments! All which can be summed up as, we girls are not worth a second glance, but as they are benefitted by our company, they are talking to us to keep us happy.Idiots!! I would have died if those ‘hunks’ hadn’t talked to me. Thanks guys for saving me! Duh!

While returning I told them, “I regret having met you. Hope we never meet again” and I felt great J TIT FOR TAT :D But on their face! Bad attitude? Don’t mind, the kid in my is still alive :P

Thanks to a few people I met there, I evolved as a person. I don’t take nonsense anymore, or my tolerance level has gone up. I am not dependent on people who are not family. And I am proud of myself :D And the few people I met there should be listed under the most influential friends I ever had. If it was not for them, I would still have been clinging to my “best friends” and any fluctuation in their behaviour would affect me to the core. Not anymore!

So that was Hyderabad-part 2..which gifted me with typhoid and like Sreenivasan says in Udayananu Tharam, “IAS examinte thalenu enikk flu aayirunnu” and “GATE examinu munp enikk typhoid aayirunnu” and so my results were the worst! IIT-NIT dreams shattered!

Life was real hell for about 2-3 months. Those months when I felt like a fit for nothing and worthless money eating brainless blabbermouth! Let’s not talk about that. I will get my senti attack! L

And the most funny part, I went for GATE coaching and later joined for MBA!

Eh?? Am I ok?

I am like this only!

Hyderabad Diaries-Part 1

Hello folks!

I am back with yet another one of my stories. I wrote a serious story and my Mom was saying it is not that good :P It seems my funny blogs are better! My own mother doesn’t like me being serious? But she expects me to be matured in real life :P That’s not done! As of now, as I have joined my PG class, I am trying to behave in a matured way. That is what’s expected from someone of my age and experience. I don’t think my basic character has changed a lot, but still there’s a lot of improvement from the silly cry baby me :P

Now let’s got to the topic of the day- Hyderabad. This wonderful city has presented me with some of the best and worst memories of life. The capital of Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, it’s a city which is very close to my heart. We have close relatives there, and they have been inviting us for years but I never got a chance to really visit Hyderabad. In spite of hearing about Hyderabad from Sushuamma and Shashi cheriyachan, visiting the place remained just another entry in my to do list .

Years passed and one fine day during my final year, it was decided that we are going on a four day trip to Pondicherry, Mahabalipuram, Chennai, Hogannakkal, Coorg and Hyderabad...HYDERABAD!Eh? HYDERABAD? Finally after 21 years, my dreams about to come true..Hyderabad here I come..

Initially I was very excited about the trip…Like a prisoner who’s is about to go back to prison after his parole period, I got this feeling that this would be the last college trip in life and after stepping out from college life would be so different and i would be showered with responsibilities. So I was determined to enjoy the tour. Come what may, I will enjoy this trip at any cost!

But as the trip drew nearer I started feeling a bit uneasy..I didn’t feel like going. The main reason being the split in our class coz of politics. Looking back now I feel we were all very silly! Not a single guy or gal entered politics after college and the principles which ruled their life then were forgotten after they stepped out of college. Now I feel that such silly things shouldn’t have bothered us. But it did and there was a very visible split among the classmates. The sad part is that the gap was never bridged and I have absolutely no idea what majority of my classmates are upto now. Also when it comes to wedding invitations, the people who belong to our party are conveniently forgotten! God!

So with very less interest I set out on the trip. The fact that we were going to Hyderabad also didn’t help to create any difference in my attitude. But as soon as the trip started we got into the jolly mood and could enjoy to the core with our respective ‘gangs’.

So on the third day, we reached Hyderabad. The tragic part was, we had to run an extra of 100 kms as the driver went through some wrong roads (Or was it a trick to charge us for extra kms? As we are in India, anything can happen!) So everything went wrong and we did not reach Hyderabad at the planned time. The funniest part was there were no restrooms anywhere in sight and majority of the people were really unhappy ;) Nature’s call can come anytime anywhere :P I’m sure that the bus driver’s life span would have reduced atleast by a day coz of the cursing by the 40+ people in the bus. Being very frank, it was a sight. People couldn’t stand or sit and there was no place in the bus to walk about!! A few of them were standing near the bus door so that they could jump as soon as the bus stopped some place ;) In this one situation everyone stood united :P Nature party nokkiyallallo vilikkunath ;) Many of us tried to sleep but in vain ;)

I still remember the ‘dialogue’ of one of my classmates who could not take it anymore. He was a “stud”( :P ) and he was telling the co-ordinator, “If the driver doesn’t know to drive, ask him to move! I will drive” Onnu poda! Badayi!!!

So after maybe more than an hour of waiting (Poor God! His ears must’ve been buzzing with prayers the whole while!) the buses stopped infront of Ramoji Film City. Not a soul stopped to admire the beauty of the entrance! We all ran towards the washrooms and that morning the film city washrooms were filled with Electrical Engineers! Thanks Ramoji Rao! Your washrooms are great! And the film city? Ehh..we will come back tomorrow ;)

That was our very first experience in Hyderabad ;) But the day before there was something even better. After dinner, we all were waiting near our buses. About 5 minutes prior to that we gals went to the washroom. There were three of them. One of them was occupied and so we used the other two. We were commenting and bitching about the guys and we got out and went to the bus. After some time one of the guys joined us. His face was all wet and he looked fresh. I asked him, “You took bath?” but the guy didn’t answer me and he looked all tensed. It was then we realised he was wet with sweat :P and the reason was- he had entered the gals washroom by mistake and he had occupied the third room :P And he was scared to come out fearing if the locals might hit him! We laughed our hearts out!!

Poor guy! I just hope he was tensed enough to be deaf to our bitching ;)

So we directly went to Bawarchi and had Hyderabadi biriyani after brushing (Bath? What’s that?) That was some place called Abids. I was planning to go for GATE coaching and the coaching centre was in Abids. I tried hard to find my coaching centre but in vain.  Then we set out to the hotel we were going to stay in. It was in a place called Koti.

The hotel check-in was funny. By the time we got our luggage and reached the top floor, all the rooms were taken and whichever room could accommodate extra people, they were not ready to take us. Coz we belonged to the other party! Idiots! I would’ve shot them on the spot if I could help it. One beauty queen also offered for us to take the sofa kept outside their suite. Yes darling, we are the illegitimate kids and so we do deserve second hand treatment. When the others were getting ready for the day, we stood in the corridor staring at closed doors! #$*&&#$$ please replace the symbols with all the swear words you know. We finally told the co-ordinator that we wanted to pay for an extra room! Hum kisi se kam nahin. Ego rules! How can we go and beg to the girls of the other party to take us in their room? It’s below us! 4 of us who belong to the red party stood with our luggage like orphans in the corridor of our hotel! But we managed to get a room, even though we had to throw out the unlucky boys who occupied the room. ;) Who cares? Ladies first!

After settling down and having the much needed bath we got ready to go to the first destination of the day- Char Minar. It seems Hyderabad was first called Bhagyanagar after Queen Bhagmathi but later when she married the Nizam and changed her name to Hyder Begum, the place’s name changed to Hyderabad.

 Before proceeding to see Char Minar, we entered Chowmahalla Palace. It was a very beautiful place and was the only palace which was made into a museum, the others served as Government buildings. The various souvenirs you find there tell you that the Nizams were stinking rich and influential. I was mesmerized by the beauty of the palace and set out exploring and heard to the guide who was explaining it to some other group( No one in my group was interested in hearing history by paying for it :P )

It seems the Nizam was gifted with 10 cupboards by one of his fathers-in-law and it was filled with gifts and the cupboard could survive fire for 10 days. But the Nizam being rich didn’t even bother to open the cupboard :P And so till date no one knows what is in the cupboard(I don’t believe that! That too in a country like India where people make it their business to poke their noses into other people’s business!) It seems the Nizam owned swords with the tip coated with a rare kind of poison which if touches human skin can kill the person, and this was gifted to the Nizam by one of his many fathers-in-law(Smart guy! God knows how he managed so many wives :P People struggle with jus one ;) And what a lovely gift to give your sil! Duh!!)

At that point of time, the Nizams formed allies by getting married to the other king’s daughters :O They showed us a room where the in laws were entertained and they could meet their daughters in that room. The entire palace was a real beauty...the chandeliers, the gardens, the furniture.. every single thing was a creation of beauty.

Also it seems the plates in which the Nizam ate were made of a different kind of porcelain which would change colour in the presence of poison and as per plan the Nizam would just not eat and walk away, or else the trick of the plate would be known to all..But it seems the Nizam was never poisoned as he was loved by all.  

We saw the Nizam’s collection of cars and dresses and they were so rich that the wives had sarees with threads made of gold(Chaala over cheysthunthi!! )God alone knows how they managed to walk about with such heavy sarees and I pity the people who had to make such fine threads and don’t you feel it is extravagance. Maybe we middle class people wouldn’t understand :P

Then there was a statue of two men wrestling and it was carved in a single marble piece and looked beautiful. We were roaming about in the well maintained gardens when we were called to move to Char Minar and Mecca Masjid.

Mecca Masjid is one of the largest masjids in India and the commissioned bricks of the Masjid were made from the soil brought from Mecca, the holiest site of Islam. We went inside the gates. In 2007, a bomb blast had happened there which killed 16 people.  The bomb was placed under a huge marble stone and blast on a Friday when about 10000 people were present inside the mosque premises. The security was real strict because of the incident.

The place was beautiful! No words..like a film location with 100s and 1000s of pigeons all over and many of our friends tried clicking pics like the movies by chasing pigeons. Even we tried :P but nothing happened..Even the pigeons were not interested in us ;) The next time we went to Mecca Masjid in 2013, I ran again.. See the foto :D

PATHETIC!!!Jus one word for this picture and all the time we were scared if the pigeons will bless us with their wastes :D Two fat girls running and chasing pigeons, even the pigeons would have thot we are crazy :P

The Minar you see in the background is Char Minar.  It means four towers. It is among the most recognised structures in India.  There are a lot of stories behind why it was built, one being: it was built to commemorate the eradication of plague in the city and the other being: to commemorate the beginning of the second Islamic millennium year.

I had heard one more story, that the King Qutb Shah met his future queen Bhagmathi near the place where Charminar was later built in memory of the meeting and that Hyderabad was initially called Bhagyanagar after the queen and later when she was converted into Islam, her name became Hyder Begum and the place name changed to Hyderabad. What a lucky lady! Along with Mumtaz W/O Shah Jahan, now I am jealous of this queen too.. I doubt..were they really great wives and lovers that their husbands went an extra mile to show their love or were they real irritating that the husbands were forced to do something like this to shut them up. Wives generally qualify under the second category and with a character like mine, I feel that my husband would even build a wall like the one in China between the two of us ;)

So coming back to Char Minar, the first time we went, we did not enter the Char Minar. But the second time we went, we entered or rather climbed the Minar. A lot of people had spoiled the building by inscribing their names on it. How stupid! Who is really bothered if  XYZ loves ABC and if QRS was here on 1/1/2001??

The same day we visited Snow World. For people like me, who have seen snow only in movies, it was a really great experience, but you should never go there with aggressive people. They get all excited seeing snow and then people like me had time only to fall down. I hated all the strong guys that day. You would bend down to get some snow and the only thing you remember is bending down coz people would even dare to bury you in snow! I expected that many people wouldn’t bother to chase girls. But girls were chased and slaughtered with snow! I think all anger and hatred were released through the snow that day :p And sadly even there, in that confusing atmosphere, where you couldn’t differentiate between girls and boys due to the similar attire worn(or was it an excuse for the guys who hugged girls unknowingly?) there was a party based differentiation. That’s another story. How our class was split because of politics.

Then after the torture which lasted for about 20-30 minutes we came out all tired and with no broken bones except for Nayeem, who twisted his ankle and his feet were numb that he didn’t realise the damage done until late.

The rest of the evening was meant for shopping; I went with our relatives Suresh Maman and Lata Chechi and had an icecream from Famous Ice Creams. The drive around the city was nice. It was dark and the city was busy. It was beautiful. I fell in love with Hyderabad on the first day. I still remember that when they dropped me back at the place where we were staying, we waited for my friends to turn up. The girls came and I introduced them but later when boys came, I failed to notice the ‘bottle’ filled bags in their hand and as they did not want to embarrass me they hesitated to come over. Me being me, went on calling them and Suresh maman understood that they had things which were not to be shown in front of family ;) as he had noticed their bags :P

The next day was spent in Ramoji Film City. It was a really cool place. Takes you through all the films you have watched which has been shot from there. And a great place to click “profile pics” But unfortunately I was soo suntanned that I look scary in all the pics. About Ramoji Film City, you feel like you are in some dream place, except for the old crowd around you. The place is a beauty and well maintained too. You can visit it once with friends or family in short loads of people with you. I suggest that because the second time I went to Ramoji, it was just Appu and me and we were bored to death. I was in a nostalgic mood, because the previous time I was with friends and we did have a blast. Selfies were not in at that time and we even forgot to take the camera and we ended up clicking pics of each other in a 3.2MP camera ;) Or maybe, if you go with your partner, it would be fun. Just holding hands and walking about.

Ramoji film city had this ride in which you would be strapped to your seat and you sat in something resembling a ship, which would sway to and fro and finally go upside down. That was my first and last time and being the coward I am when it comes to adventure rides. I was sooo scared to even open my mouth and people misunderstood that as my guts :P  Once I was steady on my two feet, some of the boys came up to me and said, “You were the only girl who didn’t scream!” and my expression was something like “Tell me something I don’t know”  Hahaha! In the process of overdoing it, I also said, “Let’s go one more time!” What they do not know is that I had remembered every single God I know and also that I had taken an oath never to do something this crazy while I was lying like a cloth hung on the line at zero gravity! I will never understand the happiness people get after being on a roller coaster or Ferris wheel! Wow!The adrenaline rush! My foot!!You all are M.A.D! I was clinging to dear life and I am sure that a roller coaster would result in me dying of heart attack!

Ramoji film city was fun. But we were not lucky enough to see any superstars there. All we got to see was the shooting of an Odiya film and the heroine Archita Sahu who looked liked a Barbie doll!

That night we bid goodbye to Hyderabad. Never did I know that I would be coming back exactly three months later. I returned home, deeply tanned but with a whole baggage of memories. The trip marked the end of the most carefree days of life. Never did I know that, after this trip, life would not be the same. Or that post graduation would never equal graduation life or that never in life could I be so carefree and happy.

And I quit my job to join Post Graduation, to enjoy college life! How silly of me! Not that I expected anything great from me!

You know...

I’m like this only!

The spoon!

Today is one such day when I am feeling desperate to pen down something. I have been secretly reading Judy Balan’s blog all day from office :D and I am addicted! So I got really very inspired by her blog and her dedication to writing unlike me. I pen down something and then wait for my Amma to review it and see if there are any elements which people would disapprove of. Any elements criticising relatives or any part which Amma feels would hurt someone, she asks me, “Why do you have to write such things? Are you trying to establish you are a rebel?” So after my censor board cuts up all the unwanted elements, I post my blog. In a way its good, she looks at it from the point of a critic and I believe that whatever little I can write is because of the genes I inherited from her. But some day, I would write without fear( and get beaten up or disowned by my family )

So the topic for the day: Spoon!!

I remember a time when in school, I used to be so jealous of all the girls who ate lunch with a spoon. It had class! And my Mummy always gave me whatever was made for breakfast as lunch. How do you eat dosa and idli with spoon? Now I know but then I felt soo poor and wished for a day when I could eat food with a spoon. Even at home, my family never used spoon to have food. Normal middle class people! And those girls who brought noodles and bread jam to class were the most stylish people in my eyes. And some girls even ate with a fork. FORK! We didn’t even own a fork then!

Over the years, I totally forgot about these silly things. Maybe because we shamelessly started eating from all the lunchboxes and so spoons were out of question. 

I still remember the day when we all went to the new restaurant in our neighbourhood, then called The Fortune. I realised the importance of ‘cutlery’ and that you really should know about all such nonsense(makes no sense to me! Why eat with a spoon when you have hands? You have to anyway wash your hands after eating. So spare the spoons!) Nonsense meaning, the uses of these cutlery and napkins and the courses and how you place the spoon! So it so happened that I ate the food ordered without bothering to look twice at the napkins and spoons and I looked up only when my plate was licked clean. (not literally ;) ) Then I looked at my grandfather. Daddy served in the Indian Navy and they even got a chance to dine with the Queen of England. (If you smell boasting, maybe you’re nose is good enough ;) I was waiting for a platform to blurt this out :D ) So Daddy knows all the ‘nonsense’ I could see all his forks and spoon and knife used and placed in a particular fashion on the plate. His napkin was nowhere on the table. I felt a bit uncomfortable and inferior but the rest of my family also were trying to sneak out the nice looking napkins (Naah! Jus joking ;) ) Then came the waiter with a bowl. And it had a half cut lemon. I had once heard that in the Taj, they charge Rs. 50 for a cup of tea, but you have to make it yourself. And i rolled my eyes! These people! They give you lime juice but wouldn’t squeeze the lemons! I put my hand into the bowl and just as I started squeezing the lemon, Dad called out, “Chinnu, STOP!” I looked at him. “It’s a finger bowl!!” I continued staring at him. Seeing the blank expression on my face, Dad said, “You can wash your hands in that bowl.” I felt so foolish! What if I had made lemon juice and started drinking from my finger bowl? Wouldn’t my entire family be embarrassed to death? Haha! Now I feel so funny! But then, had the shock of my life! But lemon? :(

Life was good for all the years before I joined TCS. At times, when my cousins come down from US, I try not to eat lunch with them as they use forks and I cannot enjoy my meal without making khichdi with the food on my plate and trust me, my plate looks unattractive!
I love Appu when it comes to eating with the spoon. He didn’t know then, but he tries daily and finally ended up being good at it. I still remember, initially, he used to break a piece of cutlet with his hands and then place in on the spoon and then eat! With so much attitude on his face that we would not even dream that the same guy just broke a piece with his HANDS and placed it on the spoon! And when our cousins come down from US even Appu eats with a spoon with so much confidence and style that you would feel that he does the same throughout the year.
Then I joined TCS. During our training we were enlightened about the basic etiquette required for a lunch or dinner and we never got a chance to practice it. 

And when I started having food with my friends I realised a lot of things, that you can eat dosa with a fork! What an insult! I once had an idli with my hands and then my supervisor told me, “Gayathri, they have kept forks there.” And I looked at him with a huge question mark which read So? Then I realised, you are supposed to eat with a fork/ spoon. Even idli!  How rude! Being very frank I get irritated when people just dip the idli in sambar and have it! People, you get sooo much sambar so that you can bathe the idli in the sambar and eat it. Not to dip it for a half second and eat the idli! So I started eating my food with a fork and spoon half heartedly.

Sorry! Got carried away!

Life challenges you when you have to go to some fancy restaurant and you love non-veg food! I know how to eat the starters with a fork, but what about the “boneful” chicken? How do you eat that with a fork? At such moments, you smile outside and cry inside and refuse to eat it! ;) No! I don’t like this (coz it has a bone in it!)

If you look closely at my photos taken during these outings, you can see pain in my eyes! All those types of chicken smiling at me and I just turn my face at them! :P

I returned to college ie Kerala and things were really cool. I now know to eat noodles with a fork and spoon, I manage boneless chicken and similar items quite well. I know what to do with the napkins. I know how to place the forks and spoons after using it. If you plan to use it again, it should be kept in one position and if you are done it should be placed in another style! Phew!!
But in Kerala, if you have normal friends, you can survive without fork and spoon. 
But fate had other plans. I returned to Bangalore for internship and my office provides lunch! And it is free.. Good thing na? But not really. 

Enter spoon! :( This time, my friends eat MANGOES with a spoon! :( :(
I hate life! Mangoes? How can you do this to mangoes? They must be cut into pieces and eaten, maybe with your fork. But if it still has the skin on and it has been cut into pieces, then you use your hands and teeth to eat it! But here people scrape it with a spoon and insult the mango. People you have teeth for the same scraping purpose and you get happiness too! Noone has watched Maaza Katrina ad kya?

Now at this old age, I realise that cutlery has a very important role to play in ones life! I would respect you if you knew all your forks and knives and used them properly and double the respect if you eat a ‘boneful’ chicken piece with fork. 
I really have to learn all this. But how? At home, I wouldn’t dare to go near cutlery. The happiness you get when you eat your food with your hands cannot be replaced with any happiness in the world.

So i think Ill have to continue looking dumb or trying to copy the others around my table and see how things are done :P
I’m like this only! :D