People who use vernacular in Official situations and cut you out completely

I hate it. Simply hate it. Why do people do it? I recently shifted south of the Vindhyas and let me tell you it was great untill that started happening. People would simply start chattering in their adopted native language and I would end up feeling left out. That feeling where in you start feeling as if you've stepped on to foreign shores and are now left with nothing but a rudimentary understanding and you start to pray that you meet someone who might speak a language that you might understand.
English being a common medium goes for a toss as you being north Indian tend to speak in accent free tones while 'their' English is heavily dosed with their mother tongue. I challenge anyone to understand what 'they' say.
I never thought that I'd feel like a bloody foreigner in my own country.

Lousy sales pitches in equally lousy situations

Okay so here I am. In the gym. Sweaty, tired, entered after a gap of 15 days, new city, stressed out, hating the slush that accompanies the incessant rain, feeling hungry. Hope that about covers it. I have my upper torso on the floor and my legs in the air trying desperately to keep them aloft so that my abdominal muscles can be forced to get into some kind of shape. I have not had lunch and neither have I had a decent breakfast. After another ten minutes of the same torturous routine I will be able to go and get myself a fairly decent dinner. I hope.

At this juncture, the gym instructor asks me very casually, in a tone that inplies that he's about to ask me my birthday, just exactly how much do I weigh?

It was all I could do to restrain myself from jumping up and sucker punching him but then I'd already paid up for the quarter and four thousand bucks is not exactly a small amount.

Very slowly and very gently taking utmost care not to scare I told him that I weigh ___ KGs. (No, I'm not telling. I'm a little touchy about the subject.) On cue his Jaw dropped, he looked me up and down and then secretly wet his pants.

His next move was to casually begin by telling me that he was very worried about my health.(Yeah Mr.Mom, more worried about his gym's revenues more like), He then proceeded to tell me that although they would help me out in the first week, they would not be able to do so after wards and then I would simply become lazy and inefficient and I wouldn't be able to make a major difference to my body. What I desperately needed was a personal trainer to help sculpt me into an Adonis like waif who would be charming and irresistible to the girls. and ofcourse he woudl be happy to help for a nominal fee.

I was saved the botheration of answering by virtue of being in a precarious position physically, (Hint - torso on floor, legs in air ), and once I had returned to my normal vertical position I gave him a polite smile and walked off. That's the last time I allow the bloody trainers to talk to me. Next time they get the silent treatment.

I swear I truly hate it when people do that, sneak up on you when you least expect them to.

Pathetic Bosses and their equally pathetic gestures

My current boss takes the cake. Not only does he take the cake but he also takes the entire bakery along for the ride.

I put in my Papers last monday having endured enough trash from him to last me a lifetime. I was put on a pedestal, taken down, lauded and then when he'd extracted whatever he could he hurled me off the pedestal, crunched me underfoot, abused me and my skill sets and did his best to displace me. That's an entirely different matter that I was able to survive on the good will that I'd accumulated in my short stint at the head office.

I gave up hating him long ago. I simply stopped caring about him and his dumbness. I'd come to the office, lounge around, drink endless cups of coffee, make perfunctionary phone calls, read comics and about the latest HR innovations, chat with co-workers, eat lunch, and then go back home having put in another unproductive day at the office.

My sense of self worth would plummet on a daily basis and then finally all the Googling and networking came through and I landed another Job.

The day I told my present boss, (technically he remains boss untill I walk out once and for all), he just said,"I hope u have a job lined up." (Rumor has it that he did the bhangra one handed while using the other hand to Jerk off)

Two days later he called me in front of the entire staff and declared that he was sorry, (???????????), to see me go and handed me a box containing the very same tie that he had been wearing that morning. His cloying arabic perfume is so thoroughly ingrained in that disgusting yellow and orange concoction that I would never dream of wearing it, let alone actually touch it. Suggestions of returning the damn thing on the last day were mooted by wiser people on the grounds that one needs to be the bigger person.

All said and done, Boss is one pathetic person who would have been more successful as a politician.

Things I simply want to crib about without any rhyme or reason

Okay, Here goes. This post is dedicated to the art of cribbing about stuff that abso-bloody-lutely does not have any common linkages. Like -

• My Irritating, self centered, prig of a boss - Surprise, Surprise! I'm sure you had absolutely no idea that this was what it was going to be about now did you? Don't get me wrong here, I don't hate my boss, I just detest his absolute lack of sense and sensibility. He has the ability to elicit the most dour and sulky responses from everyone around him. The worst part is that he behaves like he's god. It would be okay if God were impotent istead of omnipotent but then boss dear is the former, not the latter.

Impotence isn't always sexual, sometimes the lack of power to do either good or to harm can be more humiliating and much more harmful than the inability to perform in bed. Sometimes you need to accept your failures and your shortcomings, but then absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Boss dear has everything going for him - a great degree, a fabulous work history, the ability to pull things out of thin air, that cuthroat ruthlessness that gives you the right to use people without any remorse and good ethics. Inspite of all this he still manages to rub people the wrong way. He lies, cheats, hoodwinks EACH AND EVERY PERSON in his sphere of influence - which pretty much includes every one. And no we're not talking about his personal life here.

Did I also mention that he has this predeliction for young people and the ability to make people around him feel old? It's like he sucks the vitality out of a room when he walks in, making the people inside feel like there's a dementor in their midst.

It gets so bad sometimes that I even feel faint but then that might be because everyone else around me begins to suffer from deodorant failure the minute he walks in. Hmmmmmmmmm..... Research required on that one. Will get back once the findings are in.

• Telecallers and their irritating promises of life on a platter - This is something that I really hate. I mean really, really hate. Abhor. Detest. Cross - my - heart - and - hope - to die - if - I - Lie. I truly hate this.

Ever since I got a salary account with this bank those girls have been after my bloody life to get either a credit card or a flexible FD or an add on card or something else equally inane. I mean why can't they leave me well alone? It's like isn't it bad enough that the world economy is crashing? Why do you have to make me a party to it? Aren't I doing my bit to channelise enough cash into the world's economy by eating out exclusively? What else do you want from me?

• Well meaning relatives and their equally well meaning intentions that ultimately result in a mishmash of everything - All I have to say is, Grandpa, Grandma, Auntie, Uncle, and everybody else besides, I'm happy, healthy, and perfectly sane. I'll get Married when I BLOODY WELL WANT TO AND NOT BEFORE THAT.Whew! That's a relief!

Goodbye and please try and ask god to instill a little sense into your daughter......

Dear Maternal Grandma II,
I didn't know you very well. Maybe that's because I always viewed you as the creator of the destructive force that was unleashed onto our household way back in 1991. Your second daughter who became my step mother and put me through years of torture and hell. The woman who almost managed to put me off women forever.
I still don't know you but yesterday at about 5 p.m. you died. I was right here, at my desk, banging out e-mails for my boss. Dad dearest called to let me know that you're gone and also to tell me that your body would be cremated today. Probably by now all that's left is a pile of smouldering ashes waiting for absolution on contact with the holy Ganges.
I didn't hate you, I just didn't care. I still don't. It's a horrible thing to say but I'll say it anyway. The only reason I'm even acknowledging your presence is because I remembered a frail old lady looking on helplessly with tears in her eyes as a woman beats a teenaged boy senseless for being five minutes late in coming home from school.
I hated both her and you at that point, her for her sheer meanness and you for your inability to control her. You were her mother for god's sake. You could have stopped her, but I think that even you knew that you had created a monster that you couldn't control.
I forgave you both long ago, but I haven't forgotten and I never will.
I hope that now that your fraility is not a constraint anymore you will try and find a way to make a better person of your daughter. Not for me, because she can't hurt me anymore, but for herself. Otherwise like you, she too will die a lonely death.

Regards,

Your step grandson.

Four Mini Kit Kats, a hand ful of pistachios and a hundred rupees....

Thats what my parents gave me, (their one and only son - light of their lives - carrier of their mantle - bearer of the semen that will perpetuate their lineage), when they came visiting last week.
I mean how cheap can you get? Did I mention that the pistachios were filched from the complimentary box kept in their hotel room? And these are the same people who call others cheap when they give them anything that's less than a thousand rupees in monetary value.
I remember buying my dear step mother a beautiful leather hand bag for her birthday for about five hundred rupees after saving for months. She didn't use it once and gave it away to her niece stating that it was too cheap.
I mean the least that they could have done was get me a whole box of Kit Kat. That way I would have been able to console myself by saying that they still treat me like a child. But what the hell am I supposed to tell myself now?
I think I'll just polish off the mini Kit Kats.

That inexplicable link between hunger, depression and weight fluctuations

I have been depressed for the past few days. The reasons vary from the mundane to the exotic. (For a better understanding of the situation kindly refer to earlier posts.) I haven’t been this depressed since the girl I was involved with died in a car crash.

I’ve been down and it’s getting so bad that even my co workers have started giving me weird looks. One very outspoken co worker went to the extent of saying that I looked like a truck had run over me. Asked to elucidate she said she’d seen a similar expression on a person’s face and that was in a hospital and the person in question had undergone an experience quite similar to being run over by a truck.

Torn – pocket – mouthed co workers aside I know I’m horribly depressed because I’ve chucked my weight loss plan out the window. Cookies, crisps, chocolates, candy bars, cakes – fattening, mouth watering goodies of every variety. You name it and I’ve eaten it. My average calorific intake is probably in the region of 20,000 to 30,000 calories per day.

I’ve been on the depression diet for a week now. One full week. And I’ve lost 3 pounds.

Cue – raised eyebrows, dropped jaws, crashing sounds made by coffee mugs dropped by incredulous disbelievers, etc, etc. Go back and read the figures twice and look up the adjectives in the dictionary. And no your eyes are not playing tricks on you. I’ve lost weight. Inspite of inhaling enough food to feed ten people I have managed to shed some of the poundage that has been the butt of jokes for eons.

Years of religiously drinking a horrible concoction of holy basil, tea leaves, ginger and lemon in warm water early in the morning, Atkins, South Beach, Long Island, (the diets, not the places,) jogging, running, biking, push ups and pull ups, stomach crunches, abexercisers – I must have fattened the coffers of a lot of kingpins of the weight loss mafia. And the worst part is, NOT A SINGLE BLOODY THING WORKED!

All it took was a heady mix of suicidal thought inducing depression and a diet comprising solely of JUNK BLOODY FOOD and the outcome was rapid weight loss. The fat melted off like an ice cube on a Miami sidewalk at the height of summer. I have finally fit into my old jeans and my new bought – it – for – 100 – bucks – off – the – roadside – vendor’s - rack hoodie. Small consolation. I’m still depressed remember? Even retail therapy, yes that’s when I got the hoodie, and finding a new flavor of ice-cream at Baskin Robbins did not help.

So folks forget about every diet you have ever heard of, including the diet coke, cocaine and cigarettes diet that supermodels go on before a fashion week. (What you didn’t know that? Where do you think Karolina Kurkova, the supermodel who got voted the sexiest woman alive on the planet a few days ago, got her body from? Apart from the discreet plastic surgeon that is. What you di……forget it. I’ll save that for another day. When I’m less manic depressive that is.) Forget about the gyms you frequent, break free from the shackles of weight loss bondage. Find a reason to be depressed, eat every damn thing that you haven’t eaten in eons and brood. The fat will go faster than a hot cake off the bakery shelf. It really and truly works. No dieting, No exercising, No VLCC, No Shahnaz Husain. Just good old depression and binge eating. Period.Enjoy.
Any one care to disagree?