time a upon once...

it's the same pattern, thought Bianca Shenanigans. yet another prick of a boyfriend. yet another relationship about to fail. why is this happening, thought she. i need counsel from a more spiritually-elevated source than myself.

Guru Muddah-Fukka was renowned for this magical powers. he never fails, they say. so Bianca went to him. "all will be well", said he. and that was to be the beginning of.. well the beginning.

meanwhile Bianca kept diligently beavering through all the social networking sites that existed (except the russian one because she did not know how to sign in to that). she found someone very close to home. a friend's friend. Jack Ass-a-Lot. he had -- like Helen of Troy -- a face that could launch a thousand ships. better still, he had a body that sure looked like it could do more.

immediately she set upon the act. her friend Rebecca Ruin-- who was thenceforth to serve as a conduit of her romance - must first must be told about recent developments in her nether regions. "you must help me otherwise i will die a broken, shattered, used woman who's never known what love is and..." "breathe. of course i'll help. you're way better than his current flame" said Rebecca.

so a meeting was arranged. Bianca played out Cleopatra's seduction act in toto. The chair she sat in burnt like a burnished throne (Shakespeare, 1615). over a series of planned meetings, the seduction suceedeth. the two were officially together. madly in love, petals falling on their fore-head, hands holding, they walked into the sunset.

--the end --

not quite. there's more.

and of course there should be. love is so beautiful, pure, everlasting, and duh - orgiastic - why the fuck should it end just as soon the fun begins, thought Jack and Bianca. no. No. we refuse the rigid-straight-jacketed diktat given out by generations of old-sodding-fogey romance novelists, film-makers and other sundry idiots. we shall TELL THE WORLD. from the rooftops. let them know.

I AM IN LOVE, YA FILTHY BASTARDS.

Jack went and told his mother. his father. grandmother. brother.

Bianca did not tell anyone.

Jack went and told his friends.

Bianca told Rebecca. ("err, I know already", said Rebecca).

Jack went and told Rebecca's family.

Bianca went and told Rebecca's family. Not her own.

Jack went and told the neighbourhood pigeons. And started thinking of who else he could tell...

so while Jack spent his days working out the latest schedule of PTME (people they must englighten), Bianca found a useful passtime. every morning she would stand in front of the mirror and practice the latest expressions and dialogues, depending on her avatar of the day.

the baby manner

"i love you" (in tweety-birdesque manner. the usual one had become a bit boring. variety is the spice of life, right?)

the pouty manner (displays pseudo anger; also facilitates kissing)

"i love you.. but i don't think you do" (with a pout)

the daughter-in-law manner

"have you called mummy today?" (his, not hers.)

"have you called granny today?" (his, not hers.)

the seductress (duh. no brainer)

"how do you want your eggs today?"

meanwhile Rebecca had reached the end of her tether. something's not quite right, but i can't put a finger on it.

what is it?

ode to plagiariser

you can steal my ideas,

you can't steal my mind.

you can copy-paste

but i'm not locking my page

if you have any shame,

kindly bugger off, do.

you're not wanted here,

believe me, i swear.

sartorial hamburgers

right so i'm slightly confused.

umm... where do you draw the line between 'blending in' and 'losing your individual sense of style'?

does anyone have the answer? more importantly, can anyone feel my pain? ok. let me try and sell you my argument.

i have a friend who's moved to the US couple of years back. complete transformation has happened. from regular clothes, now is seen ALWAYS in shorts/spaghetti strap tops/sneakers. give her a hamburger and she'd be a mascot for the land of milk and honey.

so what am i so worried about? isn't she just blending in? i suppose my concern is with the degree of blending in. it's a bit like adopting an accent. people have lived in foreign countries for decades and not got one. some get a slight accent, but continue speaking in their hybridised forms of english which is the language they've grown up using. then there are some that completely queens-englishify themselves. the ones in the UK, i mean. the ones in america, they mcdonaldise (mcdonaldize?) themselves. be it in their speech, or their clothing.

in fact, that's something more apparent in america (US, i should specify, else my Colombian friends will disown me). it's more powerful, more mesmeric, and definitely more overwhelming in its influence. just like mcdonalds. it's EVERYWHERE. unstoppable. unbridled. spreading its tentacles far and wide and converting people one by one. like a vampire. there's a well-documented example of korean schoolkids a few years ago, who'd gone to the US for a field project. everyday they were taken to different restaurants and were sick of the strange-tasting food. "we want some home food" they said on the last day. "lets have mcdonald's". that's the mcdonalised generation (which includes me i should add) for you - so mesmerised by the golden arches that they think its their own.

which is exactly what i feel about my friend. she's not really blending in, she thinks THAT is who she is.

and that is my fear.

gyan for the day

the choices you make in life, make you who you are.

colourful endings

Just a conversation:

South African: The Edinburgh Fringe Festival is going to start soon, hey.
Tajik: Yes, I read about... it'll be so much fun annah
Malaysian: Lets try to get tickets lah.
Indian: Yes...but it'll be expensive, na?


We can't wish you away oh English language (you unite us, ie, the globe). But there's a way we can keep you and yet not lose our identity.

Really, don't you just love those hybridised forms of English? They're such a wonderful assertion of who you are.

as i was saying...

"Homosexuality can be cured by practicing Yoga."

--- Baba Ramdev (circa 2009, India)

lots more to do

yay, thought i on july the 2nd. i shall no more feel embarassed about the gay law. naive me. because then i saw a flurry of comments on facebook - people responding to mine (which was hurrah-like), and people's own. allow me to reproduce a few:

One of the senior photographers in my former organisation felt -

against nature every thing like this is a disaster, and the results are now in western countries, hamare desh ka kya hooga, very sad

I didn't respond. He's almost 50. He's not going to change.

A yuppie former colleague [clearly, I've had the worst company professionally] states:

Are these gays a vote bank? Why is the govt pleasing them, and even if they get legalised and have all the laws in their favour, wont they feel embarrassed doing all that which normal people do , publicly atleast!!

What I find fascinating is the use of the journo rhetoric. That the government must be getting something out of it.

Now, I usually avoid getting into debates that too on forums like facebook. But this time I couldn't stop myself and said "I can't believe you just said that."

She replies, pronto:

Listen babes, my point is why do these gays make so much noise and for what? Society is above all these laws and legal rights..there are certain things which are on the conscience of society for millenniums, do you think we can do anything crushing the conscience?

I didn't know what I found more objectionable. The content or the syntax.

Qs

Is there a difference between being happy with your life and complacency?

Similarly, Is there a difference between wanting to squeeze every bit you can out of life, ie, stretching yourself and not ever being truly happy with your current state

Can the two co-exist?