Reflections of an Eye...

Ah! That was one long hiatus!

WHERE was I? For someone who has a rare clue of whether she is coming or going, I know exactly where I was: in a limbo. Yeah, that very indeterminate state writers have taken pains to explain and gagged in the process.

Well, for one, I had an accident. Eye. Before you start imagining a jealous woman having a go at me with bared claws for – ahem!- certain reasons, pause. It was my doing. Those were my claws and that was my cornea I wounded. No, I was not my own scapegoat for a Nazi-esque experiment. I merely put my rather untamed nail bang into the centre of my cornea and busted it. Nearly. My doc cluck-clucked a great deal and  examined me twice a day for nearly a month.

Somewhere between the first and second day of this trouble, I decided to have a jolly good time and make the most of the situation, as they say. I could not see. Of course. Which meant I broke a lot of things about the house. (once or twice on purpose just to check if my mother kept her silence out of concern for me or merely did not notice that there was stuff missing!:D )

On a serious note, I touched base with myself after a long time. Sigh. After the initial embarrassment, we got along pretty well, my self and I. I made a few resolutions, one of them being I’d be gracious and brave even in the most trying times such as these when I could only listen to the TV. Tragic. But I scraped through.

I tuned my radio(now, this, is an exaggeration. No one TUNES radios these days, you only tune in!) and listened to the general riff-raff doling out meaningless stuff most of the time. Well, here are my wise observations of those trying times:

1. Get to know your house. You only think you know your way around the house. You don’t. Try walking around with your eyes shut tight. Don’t cheat.
2. You can actually enjoy listening to the TV. You’ll realize you don’t really like all the programmes you watch. Not like the yesteryears where the programmes made sense even without any visuals.
3. Conversations that take place without the TV set in front of you help you bond.
4. It IS possible to have a good time sitting at home, doing nothing. When there is nothing to distract your attention away, you are forced to be your own company and get to enjoy it.
5. Feeling your food and clothes makes you super aware of the fact that you are capable of a hell lot more independence than you give yourself credit for.
6. You tend to take everything for a lot less granted. Especially your family.

I have at least 10 more observations. But, the windows of my soul need a break.

So, I am going to sign off for now, but not without a potential threat of “There's more to come!”

Cheers!

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I Don't Know What to do Anymore :-(

I have been extremely clueless for the last one week. You see, I don’t know what to do, anymore.

My motley group of friends and siblings suggested the following, strictly keeping me in mind, as they emphasized:

1. Become a food taster


2. Open a clothes store


3. Rebel at work, scream at the boss, get fired just for kicks


4. Try gardening without killing the plants and watering the weeds


5. Learn pottery(the only sensible solution)


6. Renounce the world, get going to the Himalayas


7. Get a nose job done


8. Get another degree


9. Be different: think negative


10. Act profound and stare when someone approaches my work desk


11. Pretend I’m an alien(this shouldn’t be tough, they reckoned)


12. Get a t’scope, peer without a break into the neighbour’s house


13. Learn to type with my toes


14. Develop a complex & hone it (this, they calculated, should keep me occupied for the rest of my life!)


15. Wear tattered clothes to work & roll up my eyes, nod & sigh when questioned


16. Transmigrate


17. Tonsure my head


18. Ask “But why?” with a poker face each time the super-annoying HR woman asks a question/opens her mouth to speak

Wow.

Am I overwhelmed or what. With such well-wishers, do I need enemies?

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The Best of P.G. Wodehouse!

Snippets from PGW for all you PGW lovers!

* Bertie Wooster; "Well Jeeves, this gentleman who just visited me, was he a fellow with a belly like a boiled potato and face like a cauliflower?"

Jeeves, the perfect butler, with a poker face: "Certainly Sir. There is much resemblance to the vegetables that you mentioned."

Bertie: "A rather stout and fat party, eh?"

Jeeves: "Well sir, I wouldn't attribute the same adjectives myself, but certainly a gentleman with generous proportions."

* My Aunt Dahlia has a carrying voice... If all other sources of income failed, she could make a good living calling the cattle home across the Sands of Dee. She fitted into my biggest armchair as if it had been built round her by someone who knew they were wearing armchairs tight about the hips that season.

* Unseen, in the background, Fate was quietly slipping the lead into the boxing-glove.

* You know how it is with some girls. They seem to take the stuffing right out of you. I mean to say, there is something about their personality that paralyses the vocal cords and reduces the contents of the brain to cauliflower.

* Scarcely had I entered the sitting-room when I found ... what appeared at first sight to be the Devil, A closer scrutiny informed me that it was Gussie Fink-Nottle, dressed as Mephistopheles. (can you imagine saying this about your own pal?!!!!)

* We do not tell old friends beneath our roof-tree that they are an offence to the eyesight.

* In build and appearance, Tuppy somewhat resembles a bulldog, and his aspect now was that of one of these fine animals who has just been refused a slice of cake.

* Aunt Agatha is like an elephant—not so much to look at, for in appearance she resembles more a well-bred vulture, but because she never forgets.

And, one of his best:
It was a confusion of ideas between him and one of the lions he was hunting in Kenya that had caused A. B. Spottsworth to make the obituary column. He thought the lion was dead, and the lion thought it wasn't.

And, some more...

* She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say "when."

* The Duke of Dunstable had one-way pockets. He would walk ten miles in the snow to chisel an orphan out of tuppence.

* The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost wholly on whether you are at the right or wrong end of the gun.

* It is a good rule in life never to apologize.

* The right sort of people do not want apologies, and the wrong sort take a mean advantage of them.

* I know I was writing stories when I was five. I don't know what I did before that . . . just loafed, I suppose.

*As for Gussie Finknottle, many an experienced undertaker would have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming on sight.

* Marriage isn't a process of prolonging the life of love, but of mummifying the corpse.

* The old lemon throbbed fiercely. I got an idea!

* There is only one cure for grey hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

* He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.

* I always advise people never to give advice.

* Wilfred Allsop was sitting up, his face pale, his eyes glassy, his hair disordered. He looked like the poet Shelley after a big night out with Lord Byron.

* She wrinkles her nose at me as if I were a drain that had got out of order.

* The Aberdeen terrier gave me an unpleasant look and said something under his breath in Gaelic eye swiveling round stopped me like a bullet. The Wedding Guest, if you remember, had the same trouble with the Ancient Mariner.

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