Read the f****ng post already!

I was talking to my beau a while back, when I came across a startling discovery -- I have begun swearing incessantly!

"Do you realise how much you swear now?" he asked me, and I began pondering over this for a while. It is true, that I mouth a few explicits here and there, but I never considered myself someone who's swearing all the time. Not that there is anything wrong with that.

I guess it all began in 1996 (when I was only 10). My father had rented a certain Hollywood action movie video. I don't remember what the film was, nor do I remember who starred in it. All I can remember is a scene where a man (wearing a plaid shirt, I remember) is running through the woods, and from somewhere, another man shoots him on his leg. He yelps in pain, "F**K!". At the tender age of 10, I had no awareness of what the word meant, and what it's significance was. I was glad though -- my vocabulary had increased with one more word. I would happily mouth the word, till my father, pink-faced, told me I shouldn't. It's a bad word.

Time passed, and I still had no clue about the many explicits that live in the world of ours. I was happy and 'clean', never uttering a 'bad word' from my mouth. However, everything changed when I came to Std. 7, when I came across the rowdiest boys I'd ever know.

I'd be the only girl in the row, surrounded by a bunch of boys. They'd all surround me, and begin their daily duty -- educating me on Hindi gaalis. "Arre yeh bol na (insert explicit here)..Phir se bol?" (insert wild laughter here). I now had a fair idea about the Hindi gaalis, and where to use them.

Time flew some more, and I had more or less forgotten every explicit there was. Then I reached SCM. Like MTV Roadies, to be a member of SCM, it is a pre-requiste to have the choicest explicits on the tip of your tongue, to be used in any circumstance. And there are no limits. Hindi, English, even Bengali..we are well versed in every explicit there is to know. And we've even innovated and brought out new ones.. (CH**ASS, for instance).

Perhaps mouthing explicits is the best stress relief. And I do believe they work! Whenever you're tired or frustrated, scream out the worst explicit you can think of (the more local, the better), and you'd feel better already.

So, coming back to the point I began this blog with, I do believe I've begun swearing a lot. But does that bother me?

No f*****g way!

Rules of the Game.

"Left! Left! Left! Go left!!"

"Aahh!"

"I'm dying..I'm dying!"

"You bloody asshole...! Takes this!" -shoots with a bazooka-

These are just some of the lines you would hear everyday at our house. No, we are not trying to be the Osbournes, we just like gaming.

The two of us and pop are one of the many gaming enthusiasts in the world. Mum just shakes her head and leaves the room. Whenever we find the time, we game. The two of us prefer the PS2, but pop is still old skool, and sticks to the computer.

Our love affair with gaming began with the Nintendo 64 in 1995. The machine caused a lot of disputes --- who'd play first? The console's a rectangular box, and you would fit your game cartidges inside. This is what it would look like:

The only game that we would fight over was Mario Bros. Mario and his brother Luigi captured our very short attention spans and we would spend hours and hours and hours trying to finish the game. Very hard to do, since the game has about one million stages to complete, and if the character dies, you have to start over again. No save point.

But we tried. Fighting those evil mushrooms and turtle doves (literally, "turtle" "doves"), jumping over fiery whips, breaking brick walls, collecting those gold coins, the star of invincibility..time would pass so fast with that game.

Then time passed. 1995 was long gone, and so was Nintendo 64. The era of the computers began. Back then, just even thinking about owning one was a big deal. And we wanted one. Bad. But it was a long time, and we didn't get one. Then one day, pop took a trip abroad and came back with computer games, even though we didn't own one then. That meant we would get one soon. They came in huge boxes..we would open them, read through the booklets, look at the CDs..everything was so exciting! And then the computer came too.

The humble HCL was placed on an oakwood table, adorned with garlands and agarbattis. A hefty dose of vibhuti doused the computer screen, and it was ready to start being used. And how it was used.

When computer gaming began, there was no stopping us. For hours we'd sit, glued to the screen, playing the only game we loved (and still love) the most --- Final Fantasy 7. This RPG (Role Playing Game) completely blew us away. Amazing graphics, and excellent story line and music we still recall. Every character was superbly designed, and being the nerds that we were (and still are), we decided to be those in real life. Sister was Yuffie Kisaragi, the Shuriken weilding Ninja girl. Another Final Fantasy 7 enthusiast, and one of our best friends, was Barret Wallace, the hulk with a gun for his arm.

And me? Don't have any doubt about it. I was Cloud Strife. The main character of the game.

For hours, we would pretend to be those characters, killing of imaginary mutant animals, or trying to fight Sephiroth--the most evil character in gaming history.

Pop, however, was not interested. He still preferred those old shoot-out games. So he aced Virtua Cop, while we cheered him on.

Then again, time passed. We got a PS1, but since there was a lack of games, we didn't enjoy gaming on that console. Ahh, but then the PS2 arrived, and our lives have never been the same since then.

Some PS2 games we are addicted to:

The Sims

Kingdom Hearts 2

Final Fantasy X

Jak 3

The Simpsons Road Rage

And about 40 others.

So the point of this whole post was that we are mega-nerds. But we love it.

The End.

The trouble with hair.

Of all the people with bad hair in this world, I admit, I score in the top 10 list. My hair is wild, frizzy, curly, dry and badly molested by the hair dryer. To top it off, I have been blessed with never ending split ends. But I still love my hair. It's a major chunk of who I am, and a lot of my personality rests solely on my hair (yes, I am -that- pathetic)

But what happens when you have hair that is "different"? When your hair is the "other"? Of course, people try to give you suggestions. Needed, or otherwise.

"Oohh! You must try this oil..your hair will be silky smooth in no time!"
"This serum rules. Try it."
"Tie it up."
"Leave it open."

But there is one suggestion that has been after me from the time it came to India. Straightening.

This term has truly become a bane on my hair. Every salon I've been to, I've been suggested to straighten out my hair.

"Easy maintenance"
"You can style it any way you'd want!"

Sounds great, but then look around you. Every third person has hair that is artificially straight. Why do I have to be part of the crowd? I am my own individual. So, I smile politely, and ask them to simply to give me a hair cut.

And hair cutting is a different experience all together. If you go to the bigger salons, they'll try to shove their various hair products down your throat. There are about 500 hair products that I "must have!" (If I don't, will my hair fall off?)

Another problem with curly hair---you can't pull off bangs. Or so they say.
I got my hair cut today, and I asked for bangs. The hair dresser laughed at me. "You sure? You'll have to blow dry everyday!"
I said I would. And I would like curly bangs..they look good on some people!
He warned me against it, but I went forth anyway.

And now, I have bangs.
And it feels good.

The End.

Tony

I found out today.
That I love you.
Tony.

The End.