FICTIONAL ACCOUNT OF VIKRAM SETH

https://weeklyscribbler.wordpress.com/2017/07/14/celeb-diary-vikram-seth/ 

How to be around people - Lessons in Stupidity

I've known myself to be a colossal bungler of conversations. It's not a newly-acquired skill or trying to be that much more relatable but it's just something essentially missing in my head. Common sense, is what my gut says, and I've never really doubted it. From being casually funny to being an in-house embarrassment, my personality is a combination of most features a clown might die to have. Last night, our boss's place, I dropped a measly tomato piece next to his carefully placed plant and a fork eerily close to someone's shoes. When you do these things, you must always ask yourself - do I belong here? Try and quietly move to the other room before someone even notices the lettuce at their feet. Or, when you happen to tell people what others have named them. Strike that. Don't do that. It's not welcome. Back in mid-2000s, people may not have noticed with too much smoke in the room, but now you're probably earning more than you should and someone's bound to call you out. Or put it on the social media, but you're not in U.S. and in India, half of us are busy taking selfies anyway. Yes, you don't do much of that too unless you know how to crop your colleagues from photobombing pics with "Wtf are these two up to?" looks. You also don't, may I emphasise, tell your colleague's girlfriend that he skipped work to bring her to the party or tell her that he made her sit next to you in case there was a food accident waiting to happen. You don't mess with people's relationships. You take it easy and take a rain check for office parties.

SOS - Save our Sandwich or What Happens When Colleagues Learn Skills for Hostile Situations

Day 1

So we begin at 8am, that's where the story really fleshes itself out, with little help from the narrator. If you look around, you'll see faces, some deeply expectant, some made heavy from sleep, while the rest in a corner, gleefully watching. We'll come to the corner later. There's
a heavy set man, with lips and ears protruding, and his eyelids are wide open, as if inviting combat. Some may say that he's got it right - that it is, after all, a hostile training camp. His noisy coughs punctuate the silences, as screeching door handles provide a grinding chorus. And then, we begin.

The trainers, shipped from England, are ready with tools, kits, and video clips to demonstrate life skills in dangerous situations. The expectant ones are ready with pens and notebooks, the sleepy ones shuffle in their seats, trying to angle their arses to doze off again. The ones in the corner, well, remain where they are - exercising their peripheral vision to look around.

So the first trainer, starts off with a dizzying list of things that people need to watch out for - lot of it common sense. But as they get drawn in, the room begins to carry a worn look, as people suddenly realise with rapt attention that their lives have been missing lists, medical kits and tragically, some fitness. The trainer seems to catch the aura and he begins to further unleash darker stories about people being kidnapped and perhaps even dying. The coughs continue, and papers rustle with breathtaking speed, necks jerk downwards and in the corner, a man intently gazes into oblivion, fantasising about, er, a sandwich.

He imagines flattened meat, slapped on bread with fresh vegetables and as he reaches out with his hands, a ball point pen rolls off on the floor.

Okay, all of you! The trainer announces a short breakfast and the herd makes a noisy exit, and the world returns as a fuller, sated place once again.



12:55pm

By now, everyone is struggling to balance their burps with etiquette and the medic calls out for a volunteer. All eyes dart on the floor, and the wily trainer, picks out the most sleepy from the lot and puts him flat on the floor.

While the irony is on, our man in the corner, now fully comfortable in the cosy air conditioned room, finds himself slipping, going down, easy, and there finally. Sleep comes quickly and before the person next to him has point number 5 scribbled on his notebook from the power point, a light whirring noise, like a motor, jars him.

Turning around, he spots our man, who is now sporting a zen like aura, which makes him look no less than a Munch painting (no, not Scream), if you will. The harmony soon breaks when a sharp elbow pokes into our man's dreamless paradise.


4:30pm

The day has trundled along, with reams of white cloth spread on the floor, fake broken bones crying for relief and fake blood doing the rounds. As gory real-life incidents play out on screen, the mood resembles a tragedy, with people forgetting about medicine, and contemplating suicide.

Our man in the corner, who has now downed four cups of tea, and smoked an equal number of cigarettes, pledges to himself that he will conquer humanity's troubles by er, volunteering? No, no, he shrugs off the thought as soon it is about to perch on his head. Like a victor approaching an open arena, he broadens his shoulders, looks around and pledges one percent of his salary to the animal NGO, which had last week sent him letters to save donkeys suffering in brick factories of Nepal.

All right, everyone! See you tomorrow! The trainer's booming voice brings the curtains down.

let me conclude...


let me do this for you
for you would frown
as if it would spoil,
your emphatic progress
to new lives, meanings
a dirty ol' memory
must be hidden
must not be touched
concluded as it were
in memory alone
but since when did silence
and time together
weaken truths and bonds like these
for you, i'll wish the same as i did then
don't be ridiculous, and get some peace!

Girl in a Rush

I do not doubt even for a moment that my day can be well crafted into a smarter use of time, if only common sense and logic were to come for my aid whenever I clicked my fingers. Tsk, that's not happening. Like for instance, let's chart it from the morning, where knowing that getting cabs is a difficult venture, on an insane impulse, I decide to buy a car, just like any other hapless commuter with a bulging wallet might think of, umm, few months before the frustration-driven thought struck me. Obviously, I do not have a heavy wallet, but ample impulse.

Soo, what happens next? I reach office, with a determined grip on my impulse to do what I am supposed to do. Research on cars! Yuppo, that's right. That's the kind of place that offers such thinking to progress, right? And, then, without a sound, I make an error in my work. Also, a bit of detail might have helped me before focussing on cars this morning. The fact that central bank slashed its policy rates just yesterday, will obviously help bring down loan rates. Now, wait. How did I make that link? I write on finance. (Gasp!) Aaand, the auto stocks led the rally on hopes of lower costs of vehicle loans didn't help me either. Talk about logic shutting down, albeit momentarily. Thank god, senses rebounded shortly after the error. Phew!

A Rhymed Breath - for Manish

Besides, if jingled words were wasted
I'd rather have 'em thrown at you
for it is no surprise
how much rhymed words are dear to you
hence, my duty, my friend is to do
to keep words rhymed even if it requires using glue
alas, 'tis smaller poems that keep me happy and going
Even though it is no surprise long verses are boring
A task well finished and words well spun
Else, this lalala poem would've lower gone
An end in itself
rhyme or no rhyme
in hot or cooler clime
we'll still be friends
So, don't you ever whine

Much love - XO -
Your Sunshine friend

P.S. Hope this cheers u up 'cos it was written with a lot of pain and effort and cheesiness and corny lines..

P.P.S Hugs

for those apples..

Entertaining randomness has never been more fun. Like today, I was struck by this thought, scrolling down to see Woody Allen's face that his quotes usually go well with his shrivelled, narrow face. Imagine the late David Shepherd and some of Allen's quotes attributed to him. What grossness! Anyway, I think sharp, witty quotes don't sit well on roundish facial features. You might just strike me off as a readable, believable blogger. I think long faces tend to carry a certain seriousness, and the round ones, some hidden comic relief.

We will discuss this, or I will state my case better when senses permit in better earthly hours.

I guess it's time to write. And, not by any mature reasoning, it's just my poker-faced last ditch effort to stay awake, and by any stretch of imagination--ABSOLUTELY AWAKE. Lot of numbers at stake aside, my own presence is threatened to be reduced to a dope bag. Why must a pencil pusher make so much effort? Now, now, let's not be queasy over someone's job. You have precious little anyway these days of those 'job' kinds.

So, somehow, I have managed to engage myself for the last one minute writing this. An alarm-diary? You might call it that. The background story goes thus: I was at the doc's last evening, explaining her my bouts of facial allergy over the last some weeks. She recommended a drug for 10 days, every morning, post breakfast. Now, you know. You don't yet actually. It's an anti-allergic drug, for all of you who haven't yet been pricked or tickled by all wrong measures.

To cut a long itch short, I am just trying to beat the sedative. I tried reading Michael Lewis, who helps me laugh sometimes, now that I am a..oh, but OH! I was happily interrupted by a SMS from a friend that goes like this : (had me AWAKE just the way I wanted! :)

Victoria's Secret has launched a new bra called Holland: "A lot of support but no cup" :P :P

Happy Wednesday, people!

Rohan: So... what did the monumental debate on life, love and everything conclude?
Sent at 14:24 on Wednesday
me: a bill of 1100

For A Few Good Men! and colourful women!

This is something I haven't attempted before but what if this world was indeed a better place, you might ask. What then? Let's think together. What are your impressions? Today again, sitting with a few good gal pals of mine, we raked up quite a storm with our sometimes rambunctious, sometimes over the top, and generally curious remarks about the men in our lives. And, who's talking romance? tch, tch. This is about men who make it to our lives as friends, companions, courting kinds, approachable kinds, abhorring kinds!

For one, we don't need men who are self-obsessed, love shopping more than you do, and who definitely have only them to talk about! Seriously, we will be better off with a female friend!

We don't need men who are too mellow, and this is just us, as in, they simply turn boring. Men who are purely state of the art quiet and matter of factly aren't welcome either. And, they also raise suspicion, uh huh. (It's also a personal opinion :P)

Men who simply behave like a man cut loose! Argghh! That's the ox variety we needn't bother with for whatever purpose!

The other kind is the talkative kinds, who are good company, and are nice. Buttt...beyond a point, we run out of subjects to talk of, and well...

The next is the scared variety, who are afraid to talk to women. Period. Approach with caution and abundant care!

Next is the suave kinds, who generally show interest in your interests (hmm!), are witty and have a voice to top it all! Those men are mildly sly, and you're better off talking out stuff with them for gaining perspective!

This entry might set out a lashing from some men, but then, let me just say this much in my defence, this is just a gist of conversation and purely from the heart. There's no direct attack whatsoever and whatever similarities with real life are meant to be non-judgemental.

What about women? I'll make this quick.

We are overfed with cliches about women who yap a lot and who are generally not driven by logic, and who generally get married before they turn 25. Well, what can I say except feel bad!

Women who make much ado over nothing, are mostly tied up in colossal confusions of life. Uh. Lend a shoulder!

Women who are subtly mean and have much to talk of have some scandals hidden underneath, which generally go well with a cappuccino ;)

Women who are nice, genuinely funny and intelligent, are women I know :)

When you are young, you should experience. when you're old you should talk

This is better than the first thought that struck me, which was that one needs to talk about whatever it is to feel lighter. Then, it dawned on me that it's better to just let go of the thought and continue with what you are doing. Now, I think the first thought was better! Whatever I feel, I can log it like some numbers. Maybe some day they will add up to who I am. Now that I am done with stream of consciousness, of which I am reminded of by another friend today, let me tell you what I am thinking.

There's a persistent thing with me about not getting jokes. And, it is a perpetual happening. Just this morning, a friend was trying hard to cheer me up and sends a forward e-mail (ask me to send it to you). But, I didn't get the joke in the e-mail. You feel like Joey at such moments, you know, to cite the American sitcom. Everyone around you is laughing and sharing things, and you feel isolated, because you've clearly missed the point. At my birthday dinner, there were three jokes I can count on my fingers, which I didn't get! And everyone around was not only tickled to their bones about the joke, my blank face further offered entertainment.

This is not a modesty plea of being whatever you might think fit to call me now. But, certainly, there's no way to sort this confusion about why I don't get it versus unless you keep facing it. Things clearly don't come to me. These days I miss it when there is genuine humour too. And, by that I mean real lightheartedness. "What does he mean?" "Oh, he was kidding." or, "I am kidding" ! ...What is wrong?!! I have become a ball of nerves.

dreaming

this morning i was dreaming that my dogs were driving the car at night and they had bought a flat close to my naani's old residence. They were getting late for a Temple meeting and i didn't have my s carf with me so Jackie drove me back to our house.

Weird! Come to think of it, i don think i have ever seen my dogs driving or doing human things in my sleep. This was weird. But, I am used to them giving me human expressions all the time. Like few days before, I was struggling with this thread on my wrist, which was not coming off. Jackie was looking at me with a very settled expression on her face. So, I went to her, and extended my wrist and one end of the thread in my hand, She bit off the other, and voila! It snapped after three tries.

I wish them a very very long and healthy life!~ mwah~

Yes, the much-popularised sin of indulgence came knocking and knocked me over. I was the first one to reach the office pantry, eagerly awaiting the pastries (as desperate as that sounds). Ahem, my senses were bowled over when I saw them lined up neatly inside the box. The first word that I uttered was "PHOOOOOOOOOOF" . I haven't strayed much from the so-called plan of eating the right kind of food. BUT! today was an exception since the craving just got bigger and got the better of me.

I called my gym instructor, with the half-eaten pastry still teasing me with its presence, and I get to hear, "sharm nahin aati batate hue." Point taken.

However, much as I now wish when is my next pastry coming, and from where, I will continue to sigh at the thought of these "round and brown" beauties.

P.S. the pastry was sponsored by Itika who goes by the name Rebellious Stone in her blogs. It was her birthday yesterday, so you can wish her there.

Growing Up and About

Most people already have their wisdom tooth in place by now, and have chewed many a fat. I must confess that neither do I have one at 24-25 (considering am 1984 born), I am getting a tooth, as in a NORMAL tooth. What does this mean? a) am much younger than I look b) I need to go easy on the chickens I chew. This is also funny, considering I would get an itch in my teeth. Now, that's exaggerating, you might think, but, no! My fellow beings (wiser beings), it is true. I remember biting my pillow in sheer irritability, which a friend put it as "teething."

As of now, the status is that the tooth is trying its best to grow, but the jaw hurts. It's time I went to a dentist, but since childhood I've never seen one. And, my plight is risking my dignity considering I am getting a normal tooth at 24-25. It's embarrassing.

Bit my Tongue, Oops!

Usher in some new words, please someone, we're tired of the old unseasonal look in our covert conversations. The stink is maddenning! Everywhere you go, people greet you with overfed choice of dated words, words you thought died with American sitcoms of 1990s.

It gets cold out there when friends talk about absolute clean stuff with the same colours used as last time. I wish someone break their crayons or buy them subscriptions to good literature online!

I palpitate when I see people much senior to me using expressions I wouldn't wish my grandma used! I don't wish to wound communication with my over the edge crazy optimism, which could border on arrogance, but I definitely stand by people who support language and I love it like nothing else to find rarely used expressions.

After all, besides food, money and the er.. nothing else but a good word can fill in the howling gasps of a soul that sits right here..and it's called.......?