I'm back!

Well, okay, the hiatus continued a tad longer than I'd expected - couple of unplanned trips and some work. I'll try and be more regular now and come up with more innovative posts that'll keep you hooked.

Later, then. Everyone.

Poor Ol' Me and Politics of Correctness

We finished with the British Council course today. By the end of it, I was told that I am nothing like a true Saggitarian, whatever that is, and I didn't really mind that. I've never really fit under any stereotype, not much anyway.

Another thing they said was that I'm too politically correct. I see where they are coming from but I still tend to disagree. When, in my defense, I claimed that I was just a nice person, I was given an answer which was amusing and probably even true: "Saying that you are nice is just a politically correct way of saying that you are politically correct."

So much for all my niceties over the past two months! (See, see, I'm being mean now, I'm not politically correct.)

Flights of Fantasy

A dialogue between a call centre executive and a stewardess.

“Good Morning, ma’am. I’m calling from ICICI Prudential. Your number has been selected for a special scheme on our life insurance policies. We’d like to offer you a reduced premium on all our schemes. It’s a completely hassle-free process, with the least amount of time requirement from your end. I’ll be glad to read out the benefits if you are interested,” rambled the call centre executive on the phone as Tanya listened.

“Is this offer open irrespective of profession?” asked Tanya.

“Why yes, ma’am. Most definitely. Our only concern is to serve our customers and their interests,” said the executive, elated at finally having found a customer who was interested and listening.

“I do think I need insurance right now. I’m an in-flight attendant with one of the international airlines. Just this morning I got back from a, personally, highly eventful flight.” She hesitated, but decided to go through with the entire story. “I was complicit in a regicide, having poisoned the King of Brunei’s drink for a healthy sum. The autopsy reports are out, I have been in hiding ever since I stepped off the flight, and I have no clue how you managed to get this number.” A couple of deep breaths later, she continued further. “Every country has issued a statement denying me international immunity, and as soon as I’m found out, I shall probably be hanged, if not murdered by the King’s retinue of vengeance-seeking loyals. Yes, insurance would truly help my husband at this stage,” finished Tanya in a harrowed voice.

The executive realized he was wet. Sweating all over. Forehead, palms, armpits, groin, all the places where the sweat glands offer their fealty rather too generously. “I shall call you back in a moment, ma’am. I have some urgent business to attend to,” he managed to blurt before jamming the receiver back into its cradle.

“Hey! At least sell me a policy before you go,” screamed Tanya, howling with laughter, as the Bruneian head of state fondled her breast, the gleam of gold in his eyes.

A Mate Date

A hilarious, stomach-achingly funny thing happened today. If the person who this is about reads it, I'm sorry, I shouldn't put this up here since you will be embarrassed but I'm leaving no names, and it's just too good to not put up.

Four of us (two guys and two girls) were sitting in the Subway in CP, talking about sex, what else. So this guy I'm talking about, he tells us how girls who smoke and consequently have bad teeth, are a turn-off for him. To elucidate the intensity of his point, he said:
"When I was in Europe, I was trying to mate with this girl who had really bad teeth... and I couldn't."
Three times we asked him, "You were trying to do what???!!!" and three times he answered it the exact same way, completely oblivious of anything being amiss. Oh, how we laughed (well, one more than the others but we are not taking any names here, remember?). And laughed. And laughed. And died.

Afterthoughts from afterlife:
"Dude! You could nail a girl, have sex with her, bed her and forget her (as the saying goes, not as an ideology, mind you! Well, maybe.), make love to her, violate her or do a million other things, but please leave the mating to dogs and monkeys. Seriously. Please."


Disjointed thought: Guys who wax their arms (and probably shave/wax their legs) freak me out. I like to believe I'm a very open-minded person, yet, this is something hard to digest for me. I can live with manicures and pedicures, but waxing is going too far. Too far. It's just freaky. Call me a sexist, if you will, but I stand by it.

A Poned Post

A few days ago, some of us were having a conversation with Suchitra ma'am about our convocation and she mentioned that a student had emailed her saying that he was about to be 'convocated'. She said that she hadn't thought of the word before but that it had a lovely feel to it, as if someone was going to be beheaded. Sice then, she said, she was having visions of the convocation with a lot of decapitated heads lying all over the auditorium. I completely share her views on the matter.

The conversation then steered to the word 'prepone'. It was her father who brought it up saying that the MS Word editor gave it as an error and that was the first time he realized that the word did not exist, after confirming it with the dictionary. I had known for sometime now that there's no such word as prepone but did not know the reason. Suchitra ma'am ventured to explain it to us based on a conversation she had had with someone else. He had explained to her, as she did to us now that prepone would be a valid word if 'post' in postpone were a prefix so that 'pre'pone becomes its antonym. For that to happen, there has to be an independent word 'pone' with its own meaning (a synonym of schedule) that can take prefixes which alter its meaning.

Since pone clearly doesn't exist (as our flights are never poned at 2 pm and our doctor never pones an appointment), and there doesn't seem a possibility of it happening in the near future, prepone, though a very convenient word, is not a part of the Queen's English, or American English, for that matter. Use 'advance' if you are finicky, or simply prepone your usage of the word till it makes an entry into OED! :)

Edit: Just googled a bit and read through a few discussion thread on the topic. Most Indians think that prepone is a logical opposite of postpone. It certainly does appear that way, I must admit. While the Americans prefer to use 'move up', I came across a really interesting entry where a person claims that a more appropriate and logical antonym to postpone would be, wait for it, antepone, as opposed to prepone. I bow to this person. After this, there's nothing left to write.

Must go to blog: http://weirdbooks.blogspot.com/