Sunday, May 28, 2006

the sister is on orkut.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

curses and bloody a thousand and one abuses on whoever invited her there.

my virtual life is now officially over.
this after i extracted a promise from every person i met on orkut who knew her vaguely to never ever let her know of the place.

the next thing i know she shall get a blog.
i did not just think that.
anyone who knows the sister, is not to tell her what a blog is; and is certainly not to tell her i have a blog.

the fish is now off to drown herself.
and yes bhooter raja, i know that makes me a bad fish, but i'm a bad fish anyway and worst comes to worst i can drown myself in air as the duck has testified on orkut.

post script : erm...i just happened to sign onto this orkut thingy and i have a message from someone whose user name is bitchslave who says and i quote, hello maam do u want a sex slave?
how does one deal with these things? will it be too rude if i say no. i wouldn't want to traumatize this person for life. such a polite person too.

the sister has returned home. has gone through the computer with a virtual fine-tooth comb. babel is now very pissed but also in very deep trouble. the sister claims to be merely concerned. she also claims to be not very morally perturbed. in reality she is a volcano. shit.

Friday, May 26, 2006

The pheesh has the phevaar. To be frecise, the fever haf the fish. And while the fish was lying in delirious throes with a fevered brow and wotnot she was treated to much sympathy from her friends. Of course when I say friend, while I might not mean fiend, I mean something not far from it. Read on for choice snippets from the self-scripted play, Sympathy for the Fish...

Scene One :

babelfish : I'm ill and weak and dying.

sympathetic-fiend : Ki hoyechhe?

fissy : Jor! Shordi!! I'm forbidden chilled stuff for practically the rest of summer!!!

Unexpected interlude of unsympathetic silence on messenger which stretches to the next day.


sympathetic-friend-continues-on-phone : Well, I was working. And I thought oh, she'll survive. You just had to factor in all the awws and shaat shaat.

*i'm factoring in a lot of things mistah. grrowl.*

Scene Two :

sympathetic-senior-citizen-who-shall-not-be-named-because-he-is-much-respected-blogger : Abaar shorir kharap keno?

babelfissy : shorir kharap mane cold :(

respected-senior-citizen-whose-sympathy-is-grieviously-suspect : dhyatt

babelfissy : ???

evidently-unsympathetic-senior-citizen : You should have a mysterious wasting sickness.

*yes saar, as soon as i can manage to get wasted saar.*

Scene Three :

concerned voice over phone : Ki hoyechhe?

Babel repeats same old story

concerned-voice-promptly-changes-to-wickedly-grinning-voice : Hneehnee, and *what* have you been up to?

Yes well, there are those who think that fever and a fearful cold are poetic justice and divine retribution for the fish's complete avoidance of studies over the past month.
To which ze fiss has this to say : yeeeeargh!!! (and you can factor in the tongue stuck out)

And finally to add to all the phisshy misery the sister has returned home. Which is not to imply that I do not love the sister muchly. She is the jewel of my eye and wotnot. But, I kinda draw the line at her coming home. For one thing, she has the knack of coming across things I would ideally not have her come across. Sigh, I might as well tell you the story of my final woe...

This afternoon, while I lay nursing one pillow, one glass of warm milk and one bad temper the sister did a conspiratorial crawl across the bed and whispered to me in as conspiratorial and concerned and elder sisterly a voice as my gentle reader would care to imagine, "bably, why was there a packet of condoms in the back of your cupboard?"

To be honest, I did toy momentarily with the idea of giving her the catchline of buladi ads or alternately informing her that the parents must have decided two kids was two too many for them to handle. But then I stuck to the safe story and explained to her how I'd been handed these packets at an HIV-AIDS awareness workshop I'd attended in college.
And Dear Disbelieving Reader of mine, for once I freely confess I was not lying.
Yes well, there are times when I shock myself by telling the truth.

All in all then, tis a sad life but there are the occasional bright spots. Today, for example, I got this one line in the mail from a dearly beloved source, who wishes in the hallowed tradition of magazine help columns to withhold his/her name, address and gender here.
Read and decipher this if you can Oh Gentle Reader,
"Seat no 15 man middle aged, cheating on his wife with his secretary two children and one cat.."

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

This is a guest post. Sort of. That is to say, the guest who's posting it doesn't exactly know he's posting it but I'm guessing he shouldn't mind given it was his idea to post it in the first place. At least I think it was his idea. Never mind,. Clarifications can be sorted out later.

First the standard Parental Guidance type warnings.
Ahem.
Yes well, observe the delicacy with which I side-step the issue of age.
For one thing, the first time I suggested censoring a post for all those below eighteen I found a comment from two American bloggers who were aged thirteen. I have no idea how they found the page, but it's perfectly possible that they simpled googled for all pages which refused access to those below eighteen.
The second and more important thingy is that the guest in question is practically eighteen himself. Well no, nineteen. About to be twenty. But still, he's a teenager. So umm age is not a criterion in warning people off the rest of the post.
On the other hand moral sensibilities are a bit of a bugger. If you don't like hearing the word sex repeated too often skip this post, it just ain't meant for you.

Right, having tempted ye enough Dear Reader, let me introduce the guest poster. Who is probably in bed right now oblivious to the fact that I am ghost writing his guest post. Little in fact needs to be said about him; suffice to say he is a Duck.
*pause*
**ahem**
***clarification***

Gentle Reader, I understand this is a difficult statement to accept at the best of the times, especially since there is a famed duck of destiny and a quackpot duck who went to sea who both happened to visit this fishbowl once upon an ancient age. Give it a minte and remind yourself there are other ducks in the sea. This one for example is a blogging duck who used to be a travelling duck. Now he's the Red Bantoo and never mind why. He also happens to be a duck who says things like "I don't give a flying duck". And he writes poetry. I think that says it all.
Oh last point, before anyone brings on the criticism, he is also my darling choubachha*.

*This at the best of times is a difficult idea to translate, but to simplify a bachha is a child whereas a choubachha is a water tank; as you can see it's just a bad pun, so never mind.

Enough of introductions, on with the post. Which in fact is also in fact a tag.

The rules are simple enough, those tagged have to answer the questions below to the best of their ability. Having answered all the questions they have to add one question in the same vein. And then tag one other person. Just one please, not an indiscriminate tag list of your eight favorite people.

The questions incidentally were provided by the Duck who obtained them by fishy means from a reputed insitituion in the city which believes in teaching its students to be fine upstanding moral citizens of the country. Not that I have a problem with anyone who fits those three adjectives but in view of the fact that these questions were part of a hundred mark examination it seemed appropriate to address them to the blogsphere....

To begin with then, I tag the choubachha himself...awright baby, enjoy answering this lot...

we begin with the medical and the practical type of question...
1) If one doctor tells you that you have asthma and another tells you that you have bird flu, are their statements contradictory? Explain why or why not.

move on to the metaphysical and spiritual...
2) From the behavior that is found in human beings only ( 'I know myself', i.e., 'I know I'), prove that a human being has a soul that is not material.

and then to the literally *spirit*ual
3) Explain how drinking enough (a) alcohol to be drunk and (b) smoking causes addiction.

then comes the good bit...

4) Explain how the focus of attention in a sexual dream is different from the focus of attenion when one stimulates oneselft sexually by masturbating. Explain why masturbation is both sinful and addictive.

from good to better...

5) Contraception, of any kind, is always an action done to oneself and hence, contraception turns the attention to oneself and destroys love. If a woman uses a diaphragm (a woman's condom) as the only way to avoid a life threatening pregnancy, she is doing unnatural sex to survive. Which is the way to reach eternal life : to die as a martyr instead of violating natural law (God's law) by doing sex in a condom or to do sex in a condom and survive? Explain your answer.

possibly to best...

6) Just as one should avoid high-calorie foods to control weight, the couple should abstain from sex when conception is possible to control birth. How is this natural way to control birth different from contraception?

and finally the question which left me speechless in all its seriousness...

7) Why do premarital sexual relations hinder a boy and a girl from knowing each other before marriage?
OR
Why does a married couple who married as virgins have a better chance to have happy sexual relations after marriage than a married couple who had premarital sex?
OR
Why does premarital sex tend to lead to divorce?
Explain.

Explanations anyone?

Sunday, May 14, 2006

early morning conversation between two sober sane serious studious friends intent on preparing for the next day's exam....

cass : i was told bhogoban hishi korle brishti pore...*it rains when the good lord maketh water*

babel : eeew!!!

cass : na seriously that’s what they taught me as a kid.

babel : i think my parents balked at the thought of saying such an offensive thing to their incorruptible innocent daughters and simply told us that it rains when the big man upstairs cries

cass : well, the best thing I ever heard was that when it rains it means god’s defrosting his fridge

babel : hey that’s nice. unless of course he’d kept aasnthe maachh *smelly fish* in it in the first place.

cass : eeeeeew!!!

babel : i have a feeling after this conversation we’re not going to want to step out in the rain for a few days.

cass : haan butbut imagine peeing for forty days!

babel : maybe he had a bladder retention problem.

cass : maybe he’s sitting up there laughing himself off his chair.

babel : or he’s going, where’s my thunderbolt? lemme strike these blasphemers down this minute!

cass : well depends on whose god it is. if it’s the chrisitan one, he’s like oh these people are going to hell anyway. and if it’s ours they’re like, where’s the ganja?

babel : na boss, they’re already high on ganja.

cass : na na they’re probably going, where’s the rest of the ganja?!

babel : or they’re like, bah, ei duto-to gaanja na kheyei arom bhaat bokchhe!...*wow, these two don't even need ganja to get psychadelic and weird*

cass : but seriously i think we ought to get really high and write the exam tomorrow, emnitei ja chhorabo!!...*we'll make such a mess anyway!*

like i said sober, serious and studious that's us. sane i'm not quite so sure about though.

< ? indian bloggers # >