The can…the worms…sob!

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It is not every day that I muster up the guts to write about my negative traits. I guess the pretense of perfection that I wanted to put up is gone, all due to this writing prompt. Sob(banging head on table, albeit softly). It has to be done, so lets get to it. This is not the first time I got a sneaky sign from the big guy to be open about my flaws. It all started when I watched a Ted Talk – The Power of Vulnerability, wherein the vulnerable lady, Brene Brown talks about the power of being open about your flaws. So here goes.

If there was an award ceremony with my top 3 flaws nominated, the nominations would go like this.

1- Complete inability to stay in the present moment- I have tried and failed. And tried and failed. Thoughts in my head seem so much more interesting than being present. I know there is something obvious here that I miss, which leads me to entertain the crazies in my head, but as of now I have made peace with them.

2- Don’t tell me what to do – This is a big one. A part of me doesn’t like anybody on the planet telling me what to do, if they do so in a bossy tone. I am aware of this. I will do something about this, apart from enrolling in kickboxing classes.

3- Delusion, perhaps- This one is solely because at this moment I can’t think of any other negative trait in me apart from being obsessed with caffeine, haphazard with household work, emotional, moody and a little crazy. Phew. I guess I have only two negative traits then.

I am consoling myself by watching this video – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FufVhpPVqro

I am trying to get myself to sing a song just to show you my strength. ;). I guess you will realise that point number 3 was indeed right, about me being delusional about my weaknesses.

And the winner from the nominations is …..1 – ‘Inability to stay in the present moment’ host at the award function says.

‘1 is not getting up from her seat. She seems to be thinking.’ host says.

‘She seems to be mentally engrossed,’second host says.

‘2….Can you tap on 1’s shoulder?’ host says.

‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ 2(the rebel)says.

‘Alright. Please do it. We would value your contribution,’ second host says.

‘Ok. I will do it,’2 says. 2 then taps on 1’s shoulder.

‘Huh!’ 1 says, her eyes glassy.

‘Go take the award,’ 2 says.

‘Can you tell me what this is about?’ 1 says.

‘Don’t tell me what to do!’ 2 says.

‘Please…’ 1 says.

And this goes on for a long…long time. Hmm, perhaps time management and the need to be right should also feature in the nominations above. Too late.

Image Credits – www.someecards.com

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If I ruled the world…

If I ruled the world….Well, let me first take a few breaths to get into the king’s character. I don’t fancy becoming a queen, because I feel like throwing my weight around and queens generally don’t have much weight to throw around.

Now, let’s take this in a systematic(ugh) way. First of all, if I became a king, I would have to grow a lot more body hair. From my memories of kings in India, where I hail from, no king was worth his salt if he didn’t have a lot of underarm hair making itself known rather prominently. Of course, I would select a crown(nothing too heavy since it would probably damage my skull or something) and in order to speak sense, which is vastly overrated these days, I would need a proper functioning skull with cerebrum, cerebellum and medulla intact. Seriously, who came up with these names? Had it been me, I would have just named it front, middle and lower part of the brain. Over simplistic, eh?

The next thing I would have to do to slide into a character worthy of the throne, is to get a bean bag chair. None of the metal jarring into my back bone while I flaunt off my rings and tummy fat.

The third thing that I would need to do is to go shopping for king-worthy clothes. While at it, I will gorge some french fries and other deep fried goodies. I am sorry if I sound like a hog, but kings are supposed to look well fed.

Now for the day I will rule the world. Well, to be honest I feel pretty clueless as to what to do. Eradicate poverty, caste systems, gender biases and violence all seem like the natural option. But it sounds like a lot of work which will not get done in one day. If it were so easy, wouldn’t it have been done already? Yes, perhaps I would learn how to cast positive spells on people. And while I jabber sitting on the bean bag chair, moving my hands, I would (sneakily) cast a spell on the people to remind them that their lives are limited. It is something that is obvious, innit? But, everyone seems to have forgotten it. I will cast a spell on myself too. I am no holy baba(baby?) sitting here.

And while at it, I will also declare a concept of no-money. Sounds radical, eh? Well, you get your turn to undo this change when it is your day on the throne(psst, you can borrow my bean bag chair). Anyway, I will leave the world back where it was, with the barter system. When I get off the throne, I would buy a big bag of popcorn and watch the show that will follow my radical decision of no-money. I hope the head of a certain corrupt political party in India and her son provide enough entertainment in the world after they have lost all the stolen money which I will have declared null and void. Oh, do I see the prodigal son scrubbing floors to earn a living?

P.S – I have sworn myself off the virus called ‘perfection’ in a ceremony that involved two frogs, one unicorn and five strands of hair of men who have now turned bald but were wise enough to preserve those strands of hair for my ceremony. Talk about foresight. This deadly virus leads you to squint and read through your text at least two dozen times. I am trying to return to normalcy and hence I read through the text only a couple of times, after it is done. Pardon me, puhleeeez, if there is a typo, although you can let me know about it…in private, of course. Together we can fight this virus and save time.

#pappu #fiction #prompt #india #king #royalfamily #desi

Image Credits: Minionnation.tumblr.com

If I Ruled the World

Interviews, Zippers and Mistaken Identities

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Interviews. I think of zippers whenever I think of interviews. Strange neuro-association, isn’t it? I can hear you mumbling neuro….what? Neuro- association is the way in which the brain links up two things together which it considers logical. In my (over)analysis of my neuro associations, I have gasped multiple times at the ludicrous neuro-associations in my brain and then tapped on my face to remove those ‘logical’ neuro associations(read about EFT tapping before you judge me). Sigh, I secretly dream of a world where we all are as weird as I am. That doesn’t seem likely unless I create billions of weird-face-tapping clones of me.

Back to zippers….and interviews. Interviews bring up images of folders with a resume in them, complete with a passport size photo in my mind(apart from zippers, of course). It feels insensitive to call it a resume, it should be called the ‘Shining Glory of My Life Spent on This Planet’ or something like that. Aah. Anyway, I had carried my ‘Shining Glory…blah…blah…’ to the interview room few years back, after having fixed my hair and lip gloss a few dozen times, aiming to give a perfect impression of my sincere-shining self. People walked in, asked me questions, nodded a lot and then informed me that few other people wanted to interview me. I smiled unnaturally, as is natural to do so in the interview. Perhaps, people finish their quota of smiles(and lip-gloss) in the interview room and then frown for the next few years they work in that place.

I first stared at the walls of the interview room, which I feel obliged to do in such situations, where nothing else seems to fill that time between the going out and coming in of people. I then stared at my skirt. It looked nice…black…formal…and dull. Good. But then, I noticed that my skirt zip(on the side of the skirt) was undone and spoilt. So now, one could see the holy white tucked in shirt, through the black skirt. Eeks!

I didn’t know how any of this was my fault, but I was convinced it was. In some way it was…as it always was. My hand immediately covered up the gap…the gap which would put gaps between cliffs which people dream of jumping to shame. I felt handicapped at that moment, with only one hand of mine operational, since one hand had to do its job of saving my izzat(respect). The other hand  would have to be used to shake hands and wave animatedly in the air in order to declare my passion for the job. The second set of people came in and asked their stuff. I replied, one hand stuck to the side of the skirt. I sensed that they sensed that there was something wrong with my arm. But, I was determined to not let ‘the gap’ spoil my interview. Finally my interview ended and I walked out with a sense of confidence that I could single handedly(sense the pun?) sail through an interview.

My neuro-association is prompting me to write about yet another embarrassing situation where I was asked to wait in a coffee shop for an interview. I had checked the Facebook profile of my interviewer the previous night, as part of my research. Amazing how one can do anything under the pretext of research. So, I was looking for this lady of a particular nationality to come and interview me. A lady breezily came up to me and said ‘Hieee. I’ll be back in a moment.’ I smiled politely and rummaged through my brain for the Facebook photo I had seen of the interviewer the previous day.  Mismatch! She was not the one.

Perhaps, she had decided that she wanted her face to match another nationality’s and had then gone through a series of painful plastic surgeries to make that happen. I settled(sank) into my chair and waited for the lady-who-had-changed-her-nationality. To my horror, I saw a person with a face that matched the Facebook photo I had seen earlier walk towards me. She sat next to me and started asking relevant questions. I started spurting out my replies in an organised and rehearsed manner. The breezy-lady-who-I-thought-had-changed-her-nationality popped up again and stared at me and the interviewer-whose-photo-matched-the-Facebook-profile.  I just pointed at the interviewer’s head and nodded as part of some secret code that the breezy lady seemed to get. She nodded apologetically and walked off. The interviewer stared at me and I blabbered something like ‘She must have assumed I am someone else’ and continued jabbering my answers…..as if nothing happened.

Over to you. What weird(funny) interview experiences have you had? What pops into your mind whenever you think of interviews?

P.S – I have sworn myself off the virus called ‘perfection’ in a ceremony that involved two frogs, one unicorn and five strands of hair of men who have now turned bald but were wise enough to preserve those strands of hair for my ceremony. Talk about foresight. This deadly virus leads you to squint and read through your text at least two dozen times. I am trying to return to normalcy and hence I read through the text only a couple of times, after it is done. Pardon me, puhleeeez, if there is a typo, although you can let me know about it…in private, of course. Together we can fight this virus and save time.

Image Credits – Unknown(but brilliant).

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