Yo, happy midget !

So I ranted on my inability to climb counters and pains on being small sometime back. Last week, something hilarious happened.

I went to a movie (Jigarthanda, Tamil ,U/A) with a huge group of friends last weekend. The security guy checking tickets pulled me out and asked if I am over 16 years old.

I was like - what?! 16'ah? Whatte, that's a whole decade ago.

The Usually Accepted

 Without shifting my gaze my email, I politely typed the words good morning to the flashing IM window. The person on the other end plainly disappears. This is all we talk. All we have spoken for the last 20 days, everyday.

So, this fellow addressed me as a “cupcake”. What am I? My hands wanted to grab and hit his head, but I smiled and responded about his question on a university course. I know my hair is a mess but just don’t assume its icing.

She thinks it is okay to call me ‘munchkin’. I mean, I know I am a midget, but munchkin?

The word comedy means professional (or personal) entertainment consisting of jokes; satire intended to make an audience laugh.  I wanted the floor below to open up and swallow me when she commented she did a comedy show at the airport forgetting to take her passport along .We both knew her forgetfulness resulted in no laughter and if at all entertainment, it would have been to the ground staff.

Then, I pray why are these usually accepted?

For years now, I have managed to convince myself the problem lies with me. If a good chunk of the world can live and accept it, why can’t I?

The need to make conversations and small talk is over rated. It would be a wonderful Englishman idea to start a conversation with the weather, and move on to a beer. However in today’s internet twined extremely complicated life, the weather lives on a webpage and the beer is non-existent.  And the highest point of itch, is when no one cares how the weather is. The good morning, if not repeated would have gone unnoticed.

Calling a loved one as dear is a warm and nice feeling. Or, you can be like me and use dear for sarcasm/friendliness (only with girls I know well. I have done the mistake of dear’ing a boy only to hear a rattle of his feelings a week later. So, no more). But I fail to understand since when dear replaced dude in a conversation. The most annoying part is when someone in a group ( FB or forum) addresses only women as dear. I almost want to scream my name out and ask the mister to call me so. If you want to call me, by all means use my name. That’s the only reason it is for.

Call me cynical, I have no answers for this but I now realize the problem does not lie entirely with me. I still have to live with my gross over-expectations for a sensible conversation. At least, a sensible salutation. Until then, let's just be friends with emoticons and smileys.

Humans of Tirupathi

All trips back home involve temples.  Hell, even if I lived in Kanchipuram ( which has some 1100 temples on its own) and visited Chennai, amma would ask me to visit the local amman koil. We are like that, only.  But visiting the Big Lord is something else. It is a celebration in my family and the last time I visited was before I moved to Singapore.

So, this time around we had some extra time and decided to do some shopping. We shop everywhere. Tirupathi has some seriously pretty bangle shops which can stand competition to Hyderabad. Oh yea, same state. Anyway, after buying over 6 dozens of bangles which I don’t know when I will wear – we were hunting to buy pickles. Of course, like any good family mine packs pickles for me and sometimes they get over excited when I casually ask for Andhra avakkai.

The brother walks to a store near Tirupathi Railway Station. It is a small eatery resplendent with a frying pan of pooris, a huge menu board listing over 50 dosais etc.  This is the interaction between thambi and the store keeper.  The storeowner didn’t know English or tamil and the brother only know biryani and avakkai in telugu.

Thambi – Annaee, pickle iruka?

Storekeeper – Eh? No tamil..telugu ..teluguu..

Thambi – No telugu.have pickle?avakkai pickle undhi ?

Storekeeper – Ah, avakkkai..go straight..anga bhimas hotel...

Thambi – ya ya..came that way..

Storekeeper – anga..police station.near by there is supermarket..there you buy Priya Avakkai Pickle. Very good. I buy that.

Thambi – *what* Priya oorugai?!

Storekeeper – ama, Chennai manufacturing..very good very good.

Now, my brother is very frustrated and explained quickly in tamil how we are indeed from Chennai and didn’t come all the way to buy packed pickles.

The storekeeper nods empathetically ( frustratingly) and asks – Oh..loose’a?

Thambi – ama da, naa loose dhan da :D

We had a laughter riot at it. It will be remembered every time we visit tirupathi! Ya, our family is like that.

Desi Midget, yea that's me.

I didn’t realise I was a short one until I turned 24. Until I moved out of home and lived with people who were gracious enough to point it out to me. Don’t imagine me as kid – I am not. I am around the same height as Mila Kunis (ya, that’s how I want you to think) but really I am not how it looks on her.

I mean, some people know to carry anything with elegance; clearly it’s not one of my gifts. I can’t carry a tote with elegance, damn it.

Being a short girl is easy. It wasn't an issue until articles like these started making rounds. I don’t have any of those advantages. My shoe sizes are on par with tall ones. No one finds excuses to touch me unnecessarily and gets away with it. Irrespective of one’s height, if a human becomes a hippo – it shows. This brings me to think who writes articles like these. I mean, they should conduct a survey of sorts among short ones. May be, even categorise as really short ones, just –right-short ones because the problems really vary. The short Indian woman is not exactly petite – she is just vertically challenged, many times horizontally well endowed.

Anyway, I thought I will make a list of the advantages of being a short person. A real list with no out of world stuff, like shopping in kids section!

 Leg Room – This is the BIGGEST advantage I can think of. I travel on budget airlines mostly and crib if       there isn’t any leg room (wrong, I know). Seeing 6 feet men struggle with limited spaces is fun.

We don't bend – I have never bent my head to pass under low ceilings, branches, temple doors etc. 

Can sleep anywhere – My feet have never hung over a bed, ever.

Always 'young' – Ok, this is an unfair advantage. Humans tend to associate height with growing up, so for some reason I am always mistaken to be younger than I actually am. Personally, I think I look just about right but hey, no complaining on this.

Cooking is an adventure – In this house, most of my groceries are on overhead shelves. I climb up on the counter almost every day. This is exactly how it looks! Ya, laugh aloud.

I can think of one disadvantage – tall girls look better in a sari. I look like a misplaced midget wearing a sari.

Write like no one is reading, because no one really is ?

I guess this is a good time to start writing again on this blog page.

They say one must dance like no one is watching.To me, it makes little sense because I dance ( or do whatever I call as dance) for people to see how I do and probably joke about it for a century. The whole logic of do it like no one is judging is so untrue and tad disappointing. I mean, what's in it for drama queens?. Anyway, I digress. I want to write like no one is reading. Because, that is mostly the case. It is a good time to begin.

To be honest with you, yes you the sole single reader - my writing habit has never been this bad. I don't even write meeting notes anymore. I am afraid if my english teacher will commit suicide on hearing how pathetic my grammar has plummeted to. I blame this country and its obsession with speaking pathetic english to all my woes. Much like writing, reading has taken a terrible backseat. Now, unlike most bloggers I follow - I do not devour books by a day.I am a fast reader, but I am also a lazy one. So, I will sit and mull around my book, reading it all over the place. It takes me time to digest, think and absorb all that I read and I like doing it the slow, vintage way. Speaking of words like these, I sound almost like that angelic girl who wears paisely printed shirts and walks delicate. Ah hell, I am much better.

So, the story is here. Writing - english miss suicide levels. Reading - Don't get the kindle 'kindling' guilt level.

Other than these, life has been a bitch. I mean, how else does one explain all this in less than six months?

Heart break - Check! (don't ask me about it)
Sick on a vacation - Check! ( India trip, ahem)
Lost something expensive - Check! (The iPhone was stolen during India trip)
Got something expensive into repair - Oh yes Check! ( I got another brand new iPhone and that damn thing stopped working in 4 months)
Almost lost a leg or an arm - Check! ( Baring drama, I met with a couple in 2014 already)
Paying up for a mistake you didn't do - Check! ( Apple refuses warranty and accuses me of tampering a new phone. I am short of crying now)

It is sad and amazing how little things can add up to a heavy issue. Of all the lessons living abroad has taught me, the key lesson is to expect uncertainties. I should do a post on the other lessons, not in a preachy kind of way but more of a I have been there, done that and it was crap kind of way.

I am just glad there isn't a mouth piece on this blog that throws up abuses for being such a fair weather miss. 

Knock Knock!

Knock Knock?

Who's there?

Dozen

Dozen who?

Dozen anybody want to read my blog?

I thought I will make it adorable with a hen doodle and a joke. But, seriously is trying to write again after 14 months a really bad idea?

If you are reading this, stop being invisible and comment below.

Edit: Blogger is acting up and showing comments from a previous post below :( So if you are really commenting on this post, I will buy you cotton candy and be extra thankful.