Five years of blogging

Feels like I ate a Bata shoe. But then again, this whole blogging thing has been good for me. I met a lot of interesting people. Made friends with quite a few of them. I am on the verge of getting published in the MSM. Hmmm. Sigh. It is not all that bad. Why do people like metaphors? I mean, if you are a girl, and I told you 'You look great' you'd probably say 'thanks' But if I told you 'You look as fresh as a dew drop' you will probably kiss me. Ever wondered why? Here is my take:

1) Your brain evolved to defeat camouflage and discover objects. Discovery is great fun for us.
2) So when I throw a metaphor at you, your brain is decoding the metaphor and discovering what it means to you. And when you discover that it is a compliment, it is like finding a pack of smokes while cleaning up your attic (as against walking up to the store and buying a pack.)
Read the first line of this post again. :-) V.S Ramachandra Vaazgha!

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Circus Monkeys

The other day, at this get together, we bumped into this family of three: mama, papa, and this noisy, little she-devil. Her folks, as soon as they were introduced to new people, unleashed that little devil on unsuspecting people that were busy making faces and making strange noises as they tried to befriend that little devil.
'Go on, sing a song for uncle, come on now.' The mother would prod the kid. The dad would join her, 'Come on now, let's see what our darling can do, come on come on!'
I was stuck. The little girl kept staring at her folks and finally shifted her attention to me. I am positive I saw her eyes change color and the twinkle of her devil teeth. She knotted her eye brows and with the determination that reminded me of Hyenas attacking an Antelope, she launched into a song. I am positive that If Judas Priest were around, they would have hired this little devil. After noticing that her hoarse, high-octave vocals didn't have an effect on me, she upped the ante: she started screaming another song, this time at a higher scale. I wanted to take a rock and smash her mouth but all I did was shift on my feet and flash this really stupid smile. Just when I was thinking of doing a U-turn and run like a bat out of hell, my phone rang. I had never been so thrilled to receive a call, but of course the call was from some stupid agency that was pimping personal loans. It didn't matter that it was a fucking Sunday; the agency girl started rapping about the latest scheme. But this time I didn't shout at her or hang up. As tears of joy rolled down my face I just stood there, only happy to talk to her, and I kept repeating 'Thanks so much!' The agency moron hung up after a while. I frantically searched for the devil and her parents; thankfully they were not in the vicinity. But I could hear her voice from some distant corner.
You know, it was almost as if the little monster decided one day "My folks make me look like a circus monkey so I am going to embarrass the shit out of them." Unfortunately for the kid, her folks think that she has a great singing talent. God bless!
Do you have a kid? STOP! Listen up: Do not do this to kids. Don't make them sing nursery rhymes or ask them to spell 'Xylophone.' That's so fucking unfair! Just because you were a dumbfuck in school doesn't mean you make a circus monkey out of your kid. Spelling is a basic skill. It is another story that most of us bloggers suck at it. Get it bro? People do not enjoy the nonsense; they are being nice that's all. So spare us. I don't want to watch your kid dance like Govinda. I don't want to listen to your kid sing 'Manmadha raasa.' Fuck! No!

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