Shoot Ban the Messenger.

With reference to the Karnataka state government’s ban on mobile phone usage by children under 16, Vani Surendra, headmistress of Jnana Mitra School says “It is good. Nowadays many students are losing interest in studies as they are busy using the mobile.”

Now I’m not in favour of having classes disrupted by shrill ring-tones – it is very annoying, especially when you’re trying to sleep - but I can’t help feeling that this poor, delusional headmistress has completely missed the point. Blaming mobile phones for students’ lack of interest in their studies*, is as daft as blaming them for the increase in under-age sexual activity.

I blame the decadent west! Corrupting our good Indian values like that. Tsk!


*And of course, the hideously outdated curricula with teachers to match, have nothing to do with it at all.

Yah Number Abhi Uplabdh Nahin Hai!

Dear blood-sucker money-grubber pathetic wanker Sunil Bharti Mittal,

By the time you read this I’ll have switched service providers faster than you can say “Madam main Airtel ki oar se…”. I’m sorry for doing this…oh wait, no I’m not! I’m thrilled to be doing this. So thrilled, in fact that I just dialed 121 and laughed like a maniac at the poor sod at the other end. There might have been some ‘nyaah nyaah! I’m switching networks!’ thrown in, but I’m not confirming or denying that.

I know this might come as a bit of shock to you since you’ve been so busy managing all the IV tubes that directly connect our (and by ‘our’, I mean the zillion gullible fools – myself included – who use the airtel network ) veins to your coffers, but I’ve had enough. I am done with frantically running around my house and leaning at precarious angles just to be able to complete a five-minute conversation. It is frankly embarrassing to have to tell everyone who calls you to ‘just give me a minute while I get to a window’ and have them worry about whether they’re unknowingly fuelling your suppressed exhibitionist fantasies. Especially when it is a potential employer on the line.

But you don’t know what frustration is until you’ve been disconnected five times in the span of two minutes, in a conversation with an automated switchboard, where you had to dial your card number, your T-pin number, your date of birth and the date of your last transaction, three times. Only to have a rather tinny version of Für Elise* played back at you on loop.

I think you’re a slimy bastard with a moral fibre which is more frayed, rotting wisps of thread than fibre swell guy man, but I don’t think we’re right for each other. You think it’s fun to con people into giving you more money by swamping them with marketing calls when they’re on roaming rates, I get all warm and fuzzy when I think of the things I could do to you with a pair of industrial pliers, some copper wire and an electric socket.

Anyway, I want to switch to your immediate competitor, Hutch. But you know what? We had some good times, at least until the marketing calls started coming in and your entire effing network died on me. And look - I won't even make an issue out of the money you conned me out of, or the fact that so many of my days were made hellish by your underpaid call-center executives.

So take care of yourself - (if there is any justice in the world) you need to be strong for your years in prison.

With sheer loathing utter contempt a burning desire for revenge,

Your totally-pissed-off-EX-customer.


* Poor Beethoven's probably got friction burns from spinning in his grave so fast. Such a pity the dead can't sue.

$0.70 richer than I was three months ago!*

So, it's been about three months since the day when I - in an uncharacteristic fit of a) optimism b) insanity c) technological curiosity d) all of the above - signed up for google's adsense thingy. I think it is now time to ask the question:

Does anyone know why the stupid sole banner I signed up for, is half-hidden under the half-inch wide blue line that runs across the top of the page? The one that has all the 'SEARCH BLOG', 'FLAG BLOG' and the (modestly title-cased) 'Next Blog' links? Anyone??


* And if THIS doesn't tempt you, I don't know what will.

Because I am *nothing*, if not courteous.

Dear Spambots*,

I wouldn't know what tramadol, diet(?!) phentermine or carisoprodol were if they jumped up collectively and bit me. If they did, I would probably just wonder, "What are these things that have jumped up out of nowhere and why are they biting me?".

Yes, I'm slow that way.

But one thing I do know, is that I have never, at any point in my life, ever worried about my, err...staying power.

So you can stop offering me all the goddamn Viagra.

Sincerely,

The Blogger Who Has Never Had to Worry About ED.


*If there's anybody out there who knows how to block/stop/destroy the damn things, help me! Please?

Blog-people, meet Henry, Henry, Blog-people.

Darlings! We’re back!

And oh it feels good to be back. A little strange also, because now we’re using a new computer (Henry), which is actually not new at all (and we mean that in the best way Henry, you know we always had a soft corner for the older ones), but it is much better than nothing.

Yes, that is it, my precious fluffy kittens. I was away because I was temporarily technology deprived - having quit old job and therefore, its accompanying spiffy laptop - and being back in employment limbo once again.

Somehow changing systems disorients me like nothing else - even if it involves moving higher up the technology pyramid.

I remember how strange it was to switch from a PC to Mac. My right hand index finger began to suffer from an identity crisis, all the keyboard shortcuts had to be re-wired in my brain and I had to get used to the CD drive as part of the monitor. That was the hardest part. I felt so guilty every time I inserted a CD into the drive, like I was violating my monitor in some horrible, unspeakable manner.

But then I got used to it and it got used to me and we got along well for almost two years. Until terminal wanderlust reared its ugly head and I was once again, forced to get used to a new computer – this time, a laptop.

The only thing I disliked about the laptop was the touch pad. I hated the unpredictability of it, the easiness of it. The darn thing worked no matter where you touched it, and even when you didn’t mean to. You know? Like it had no boundaries. You could never get comfortable with a touch pad; make friends with it, because it was always too aloof. There was just no sense of discovery, and…settling in and you know, familiarity. And it was just unnatural to have to use digits from both hands to click and drag things from one folder to another.

But I did love the whole oyster-shell-y-ness of it. The way it closed up and kept your secrets until the time you felt like raising its lid again. And of course, the fact that it took up so little space on our tiny dining table (which we have never, till date actually dined at) on which we keep everything else that that we don’t know where to keep.

So (sigh) I fell in love with laptop too and when it went away, I was beset by inexplicable urges to break my chooris against the nearest wall.

But now I have new-old system (Henry) and I’m happy again! Henry, blog-people, has a CPU! Isn’t that so adorably quaint? And a floppy drive (floppies! Do you have fond memories of floppies? I do)! And a keyboard that goes clickety-clack when I type and has, for some reason which I cannot fathom, a bright red ‘i’ key*. The mouse is huge compared to my last three mice (this sentence is beginning to sound inexplicably dirty to me) and my hand suddenly seems small in comparison.

I know now that the shift key on the right of the keyboard is on the shy side; she takes time to open up. Mr. Mouse is thankfully, not moody at all (unlike the last Mr. Mouse who needed to be picked up and shaken every few minutes to get the cursor to move) and I have dropped ceremonial cookie crumbs on the last row of keys.

This could be the beginning of beautiful friendship.


*A hint, you think? Does it mean I need to start talking about myself more? Is that possible? I think not.

One down...

So, while it's not exactly Romeo and Juliet, here's how far we've gotten.

1) Lasted longer than all ones boyfriends* (save one) - check!
2) Listened** when one needed to talk/rant/foam in the mouth/spew nonsense - check!
3) Showed one sides of one which one did not know existed (icky and otherwise) - check!
4) Been there in good times and bad - check!
5) Got one to meet new people (some of whom one actually liked) - check!

As far as intent goes, one did not start this blog with any plan of action in place (saves one all the guilt of not having stuck to it you see), one is pleased to note that this is still the case.

You 'n me blog, it's been good...well, mostly.

P.S. As for blog-turning-one-posts, this one's got all bases covered.

* By which we mean the boyfriends just turned into ex-boyfriends. They didn't die or anything. We are NOT crazy, psychopathic boyfriend-killers, no, really.

** Or at least, did the blog equivalent of listening (which is basically resigning yourself to your fate because you don't have a choice. OR a voice. Ha! Power!).