Got a new dual core, loads of Ram, a new motherboard with windows. The problem was the windows. Stupid thing is acting up big time... no acess to net and so I have to sit doing close to nothing... also goes into an infinite restart loop which is the first time I am seeing such a thing in a comp, however full of windows it my be. It is als0 choosing to not open anything in program files unless the app is installed again... and surviving old DVD warez full of viruses from previous upgrades has made the thing doubly vulnerable. The worst thing however the monitor, to which this blog is dedicated to, which is twelve years old and having a terrible hangover... it blinks and is pink. Soon it will become green and flickery... then it shall die, when it will be the time for another upgrade.
Till then,
Stuff I post. It is a stream, sometimes conscious, sometimes subconscious and sometimes unconscious.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
Wonderland
Friday, February 16, 2007
More of the Hutch story
Here is the gameplan: harvest e-mail ids of hutch employees from Orkut communities, and send them all the previous post. Have gotten twenty six e-mail ids so far of Hutch employees... will keep looking for more. Things are going out of hand, I think a whole bunch of verification calls are just market research things, because they were asking questions like "for how long did your father work in such-and-such company"
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Wherever I go the Bullshit Follows
The somewhat relevant background story
I am one of those totally unrare kind of person who gets damn irritated by people who call up wanting to sell something or the other. I mean it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever (at least to my middle class mentality) to sell a credit card to an eighteen year old with no income. Like even people twice my age and with incomes cannot handle the credit from Citibank. It is particularly irritating when you are on roaming and get a call in the middle of nowhere (or in my case, the Telengana plateau). You can hear that particular conversation here, notice also, how irritating it would be to get that call in the middle of the kind of music playing continuously in the Volvo. In another (unrecorded) phone conversation, I pretended I had a peda shop and offered to sell the caller some pedas. After many such conversations where I was extremely rude to the call center employees trained to be extremely polite, I received a message asking me to sms dnd to some three digit number, on which I would not receive such calls. Ok time to admit it, sometimes I get bored enough to actually entertain myself, so I sent no such message and continued to give call center trainees new recorded examples on how to talk to difficult customers.
Introduction (AKA the more relevant background story)
Recent developments, have however been a total revenge on their part. It’s a long and sad story, so switch off your cell phone (it probably is of no use anyway) before you continue further. Around three months ago, I get a message asking me to submit some documents at a ‘Document collection Centre’ or a Hutch teleshop near me, or my number would be deactivated within a month. So I think I have a month, and don’t think too much about it, and well, go about doing the usual things that are none of your business (just makes it sound more interesting). On the way, I get a couple of calls, with a couple of offers, and one I happened to entertain credited me with fifty bucks in my account for using a higher than normal refill card. I am very happy with the fifty extra bucks, having no clue what was headed my way. Someone called from Hutch and asked me personal details, which I told him because I thought I was on my way to another free fifty bucks worth of talk time. As things turned out, it was something as good, I apparently did not have to submit my documents – and that I was cleared of whatever things they wanted me to be clear about, he even congratulated me on answering the “what is your home address sir?” question correctly. So I go right ahead and ignore the deadline. The deadline passed, and my connection was still alive and thriving and doing well (more or less).
The long and sad story
The obvious actually did happen, but it was a question of when. I had to stay over at a friend’s place at Andheri, 7 bungalows. There is some nm nagar or rm nagar there, with a phase one and two, and I happened to reach there at something like eleven thirty in the night. I kept roaming the empty and confusing streets looking for his house. The area is a bunch of charming little bungalows haphazardly placed with really narrow and sidey looking passageways between them – navigating them as a newcomer is almost impossible, which I was trying to do. I call up my friend to ask for directions, and THAT IS WHEN I FIND OUT THAT MY CONNECTION IS DEAD. A short recap: unlit sidey passages, eleven thirty in the night, totally alien area. In desperation I ring at a random house, a nice kind man opens while his wife runs to the inner rooms for some reason. She thinks I am some shady character, he talks to me for a second and calls out to her, assuring her that I am just a student. He understands that I am lost, and tells me he has been a resident for seventy years and that he will help me. He does end up giving me pretty clear directions, but I am so angry at Hutch that I mess up, and rick it up, midnight charges and all, to another friend’s house. On the way I call up Hutch, and the number they provided in the message had apparently been changed to another, which I make a mental note of. I call up THAT number and I am put through a female computerized voice that I patiently navigate across to a call center employee… who puts me on hold for forty minutes before picking up. Yes, I was that angry. I talk to him, explain to him the situation, and why I really needed my connection to be activated, and he says he is sorry and hangs up. But now I am prepared, and I know exactly what to talk. So I go home, put the cell phone on a charger, and sit next to it comfortably, hearing out the different kinds of music they play from time to time while they put you on hold. Another twenty five minutes later, I connect to a guy I think was called Joy.
Joy: Hello, this is Joy here Sir, How may I help you
Me: You can help me by not using the word “sorry” throughout the conversation
Joy: Yes sir, may I have your good name please
Me: Yes you may, my name is Aditya Madanapalle Jayaram
Joy: May I address you as Aditya Sir?
Me: Yes… (While thinking of a comeback that involves call center employees having false names, so we cannot pinpoint anyone of them)
Joy: Thank you sir, what is the problem
Me: (I guess a slightly flustered, incoherent, and roundabout narration of the incidents above)
Joy (somewhere midway): Sorry sir?
Me: I ASKED YOU NOT TO USE THAT WORD
Joy: err.. yes Sir, can I have your number please
Me: Its 98208… I mean, (I broke down at this point)… look man, I am really angry and disturbed right now, I just started telling you my mother’s number, the thing is I really need my connection and you guys called me up and asked me not to submit my documents.
Joy: wait a minute sir
Me: (wait for six minutes, through worse than Volvo music)
Joy: Hello sir, thank you for holding Sir, I am sorry you will have to submit your documents
Me: Ok, then tell me the nearest Hutch shop, I am in Andheri West.
Joy: Sir, they are none open as of now, you can submit it tomorrow morning.
Me: Look, I REALLY need my connection ok, this is not my fault, YOU ASKED ME NOT TO SUBMIT THE FUCKING DOCUMENTS, please, I am requesting you to do something about this.
Joy: Hold on for a minute sir.
Me (you know what)
Joy: Thank you for holding on Sir, there is really nothing I can do.
Me: Ok, then I want to go prepared tomorrow, my time should not be wasted like this, tell me where I can file a formal complaint
Joy: Go to a hutch shop tomorrow, our employee there will help you out
While typing this out, I just got so angry that I went out for a break. I just saw Anil Kapoor talking to Manisha Koirala in some unknown movie delivering the dialogue “no more business planning, only family planning”, and so I came promptly back, irritated enough to be even more impolite to Hutch. I will, for a short while, overuse the word “fuck”. I hope this will be fucking understandable.
So the next fucking day, I go to one of those fucking “document collection centers”, and the fucking owner of the shop does not fucking care too much about all the trouble hutch was putting him through either. He did not want to take care of the documents, he wanted nothing to do with it, because of all the unnecessary trouble he had to take, and I perfectly understood his sentiments, and I left.
Some days later, I actually go to a proper Hutch shop, and walk in. The person who was supposed to help me was busty with another customer, and asked me to wait on a couch for some time. I do that, listening to two complete songs on my mp3 player, reading senseless articles in a tabloid, and finally he shows up and asks me what my problem is. He actually asks me “Sir, what is your problem”. Excuse me, what is MY problem? MY FUCKING PROBLEM? I control myself from showering him with cheap hindi gaalis which would shame a truck driver in a traffic jam, and think he is too stupid and undertrained to handle me anyway. So I politely give him my number and explain to him (a VERY small part of) “my problem”, and as things turned out, he really was too stupid and under trained to understand me, and I saw him pushing an “other services” button on a touchscreen. I was apprehensive of the touchscreen, I didn’t know where exactly that came into the picture. What I told him was pretty clear, my number is deactivated, I cannot get or send calls, I need to talk to someone about this. What he gives me was this:
It was a fucking token. It was valid for two hours ONLY and politely asked me to stay at the shop where I would get a call. I didn’t – get a call I mean, I immediately walked out. I blame them. I resented the fact that there was no one to call at all. I am now in half a mind to call them up again… I thought the story would end there, but no, I will now take the trouble to make yet another call. Writing all this has worked me up enough.
The Call
Surprise Surprise, they pick up immediately.
The usual “may I have your full name” blah
What I finally get across: You guys don’t seem to appreciate my time, I need somewhere where I can file a formal complaint
Him: Against whom do you want to complain sir?
Me: Exactly, that is what I don’t know, you call center employees are untraceable, and I know this is not your fault or anyone in the hutch shop. I just want you to give me very clear directions on how I can file a complaint.
Him: Sir, I will tell you what documents you need to…
Me: I KNOW what documents I need to submit, just tell me where I can complain
Him: Sir, against whom do you want to complain?
Me: That’s where you can help me, find me someplace - anywhere where I can walk in and find someone responsible enough to answer me, and where I don’t have to wait.
Him: Can you hold on for a minute sir?
On hold
1 kind of music, really Jazzy and trippy
2 Kind of music, somewhat like the computer game intro… no the Jazz kicked in… is it the same track? I will have to wait for it to stop.
3: Definitely different kinds of music. This is slightly hip hop ish. No wait… it’s the same music… damn I am confused. Ok I will wait for it to end and record the time instead.
5 minutes at this point. 6.
Him: Thank you for being on the line sir.
Me: No that’s fine, I’ve been on longer.
Him: I spoke to my supervisor, and I will be lodging a complaint. Do you know the name of who you want to lodge a complaint against?
Me: No I don’t. This is exactly what happened: He called me up and asked me personal details, I told him my address, and he actually said “congratulations”, I don’t know why he used that word, and that I was right, and all clear, and I didn’t need to submit any documents.
Him: You still have to submit your documents Sir
Me: Yes, I know I have to do that, I am not concerned about my connection, I need a reply to my complaint, in what form can I expect it
Him: Sir, we are lodging a complaint, do you know what documents you need to…
Me: Yes I do, I will follow this up, I don’t know how, Thank you.
Him: Thank you
Me: You are most welcome.
Further plans to continue the story
Err… I plan to unwind by eating food and watching the rest of the Anil Kapoor movie. I also plan to get print outs of whatever I have written and give it at the hutch shop tomorrow and ask anyone there to read it, and threaten to put all of this in the media. Or take it to the consumer court. If anyone can help me out, please call 9819137057… as soon as the connection gets activated that is.
I am one of those totally unrare kind of person who gets damn irritated by people who call up wanting to sell something or the other. I mean it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever (at least to my middle class mentality) to sell a credit card to an eighteen year old with no income. Like even people twice my age and with incomes cannot handle the credit from Citibank. It is particularly irritating when you are on roaming and get a call in the middle of nowhere (or in my case, the Telengana plateau). You can hear that particular conversation here, notice also, how irritating it would be to get that call in the middle of the kind of music playing continuously in the Volvo. In another (unrecorded) phone conversation, I pretended I had a peda shop and offered to sell the caller some pedas. After many such conversations where I was extremely rude to the call center employees trained to be extremely polite, I received a message asking me to sms dnd to some three digit number, on which I would not receive such calls. Ok time to admit it, sometimes I get bored enough to actually entertain myself, so I sent no such message and continued to give call center trainees new recorded examples on how to talk to difficult customers.
Introduction (AKA the more relevant background story)
Recent developments, have however been a total revenge on their part. It’s a long and sad story, so switch off your cell phone (it probably is of no use anyway) before you continue further. Around three months ago, I get a message asking me to submit some documents at a ‘Document collection Centre’ or a Hutch teleshop near me, or my number would be deactivated within a month. So I think I have a month, and don’t think too much about it, and well, go about doing the usual things that are none of your business (just makes it sound more interesting). On the way, I get a couple of calls, with a couple of offers, and one I happened to entertain credited me with fifty bucks in my account for using a higher than normal refill card. I am very happy with the fifty extra bucks, having no clue what was headed my way. Someone called from Hutch and asked me personal details, which I told him because I thought I was on my way to another free fifty bucks worth of talk time. As things turned out, it was something as good, I apparently did not have to submit my documents – and that I was cleared of whatever things they wanted me to be clear about, he even congratulated me on answering the “what is your home address sir?” question correctly. So I go right ahead and ignore the deadline. The deadline passed, and my connection was still alive and thriving and doing well (more or less).
The long and sad story
The obvious actually did happen, but it was a question of when. I had to stay over at a friend’s place at Andheri, 7 bungalows. There is some nm nagar or rm nagar there, with a phase one and two, and I happened to reach there at something like eleven thirty in the night. I kept roaming the empty and confusing streets looking for his house. The area is a bunch of charming little bungalows haphazardly placed with really narrow and sidey looking passageways between them – navigating them as a newcomer is almost impossible, which I was trying to do. I call up my friend to ask for directions, and THAT IS WHEN I FIND OUT THAT MY CONNECTION IS DEAD. A short recap: unlit sidey passages, eleven thirty in the night, totally alien area. In desperation I ring at a random house, a nice kind man opens while his wife runs to the inner rooms for some reason. She thinks I am some shady character, he talks to me for a second and calls out to her, assuring her that I am just a student. He understands that I am lost, and tells me he has been a resident for seventy years and that he will help me. He does end up giving me pretty clear directions, but I am so angry at Hutch that I mess up, and rick it up, midnight charges and all, to another friend’s house. On the way I call up Hutch, and the number they provided in the message had apparently been changed to another, which I make a mental note of. I call up THAT number and I am put through a female computerized voice that I patiently navigate across to a call center employee… who puts me on hold for forty minutes before picking up. Yes, I was that angry. I talk to him, explain to him the situation, and why I really needed my connection to be activated, and he says he is sorry and hangs up. But now I am prepared, and I know exactly what to talk. So I go home, put the cell phone on a charger, and sit next to it comfortably, hearing out the different kinds of music they play from time to time while they put you on hold. Another twenty five minutes later, I connect to a guy I think was called Joy.
Joy: Hello, this is Joy here Sir, How may I help you
Me: You can help me by not using the word “sorry” throughout the conversation
Joy: Yes sir, may I have your good name please
Me: Yes you may, my name is Aditya Madanapalle Jayaram
Joy: May I address you as Aditya Sir?
Me: Yes… (While thinking of a comeback that involves call center employees having false names, so we cannot pinpoint anyone of them)
Joy: Thank you sir, what is the problem
Me: (I guess a slightly flustered, incoherent, and roundabout narration of the incidents above)
Joy (somewhere midway): Sorry sir?
Me: I ASKED YOU NOT TO USE THAT WORD
Joy: err.. yes Sir, can I have your number please
Me: Its 98208… I mean, (I broke down at this point)… look man, I am really angry and disturbed right now, I just started telling you my mother’s number, the thing is I really need my connection and you guys called me up and asked me not to submit my documents.
Joy: wait a minute sir
Me: (wait for six minutes, through worse than Volvo music)
Joy: Hello sir, thank you for holding Sir, I am sorry you will have to submit your documents
Me: Ok, then tell me the nearest Hutch shop, I am in Andheri West.
Joy: Sir, they are none open as of now, you can submit it tomorrow morning.
Me: Look, I REALLY need my connection ok, this is not my fault, YOU ASKED ME NOT TO SUBMIT THE FUCKING DOCUMENTS, please, I am requesting you to do something about this.
Joy: Hold on for a minute sir.
Me (you know what)
Joy: Thank you for holding on Sir, there is really nothing I can do.
Me: Ok, then I want to go prepared tomorrow, my time should not be wasted like this, tell me where I can file a formal complaint
Joy: Go to a hutch shop tomorrow, our employee there will help you out
While typing this out, I just got so angry that I went out for a break. I just saw Anil Kapoor talking to Manisha Koirala in some unknown movie delivering the dialogue “no more business planning, only family planning”, and so I came promptly back, irritated enough to be even more impolite to Hutch. I will, for a short while, overuse the word “fuck”. I hope this will be fucking understandable.
So the next fucking day, I go to one of those fucking “document collection centers”, and the fucking owner of the shop does not fucking care too much about all the trouble hutch was putting him through either. He did not want to take care of the documents, he wanted nothing to do with it, because of all the unnecessary trouble he had to take, and I perfectly understood his sentiments, and I left.
Some days later, I actually go to a proper Hutch shop, and walk in. The person who was supposed to help me was busty with another customer, and asked me to wait on a couch for some time. I do that, listening to two complete songs on my mp3 player, reading senseless articles in a tabloid, and finally he shows up and asks me what my problem is. He actually asks me “Sir, what is your problem”. Excuse me, what is MY problem? MY FUCKING PROBLEM? I control myself from showering him with cheap hindi gaalis which would shame a truck driver in a traffic jam, and think he is too stupid and undertrained to handle me anyway. So I politely give him my number and explain to him (a VERY small part of) “my problem”, and as things turned out, he really was too stupid and under trained to understand me, and I saw him pushing an “other services” button on a touchscreen. I was apprehensive of the touchscreen, I didn’t know where exactly that came into the picture. What I told him was pretty clear, my number is deactivated, I cannot get or send calls, I need to talk to someone about this. What he gives me was this:
It was a fucking token. It was valid for two hours ONLY and politely asked me to stay at the shop where I would get a call. I didn’t – get a call I mean, I immediately walked out. I blame them. I resented the fact that there was no one to call at all. I am now in half a mind to call them up again… I thought the story would end there, but no, I will now take the trouble to make yet another call. Writing all this has worked me up enough.
The Call
Surprise Surprise, they pick up immediately.
The usual “may I have your full name” blah
What I finally get across: You guys don’t seem to appreciate my time, I need somewhere where I can file a formal complaint
Him: Against whom do you want to complain sir?
Me: Exactly, that is what I don’t know, you call center employees are untraceable, and I know this is not your fault or anyone in the hutch shop. I just want you to give me very clear directions on how I can file a complaint.
Him: Sir, I will tell you what documents you need to…
Me: I KNOW what documents I need to submit, just tell me where I can complain
Him: Sir, against whom do you want to complain?
Me: That’s where you can help me, find me someplace - anywhere where I can walk in and find someone responsible enough to answer me, and where I don’t have to wait.
Him: Can you hold on for a minute sir?
On hold
1 kind of music, really Jazzy and trippy
2 Kind of music, somewhat like the computer game intro… no the Jazz kicked in… is it the same track? I will have to wait for it to stop.
3: Definitely different kinds of music. This is slightly hip hop ish. No wait… it’s the same music… damn I am confused. Ok I will wait for it to end and record the time instead.
5 minutes at this point. 6.
Him: Thank you for being on the line sir.
Me: No that’s fine, I’ve been on longer.
Him: I spoke to my supervisor, and I will be lodging a complaint. Do you know the name of who you want to lodge a complaint against?
Me: No I don’t. This is exactly what happened: He called me up and asked me personal details, I told him my address, and he actually said “congratulations”, I don’t know why he used that word, and that I was right, and all clear, and I didn’t need to submit any documents.
Him: You still have to submit your documents Sir
Me: Yes, I know I have to do that, I am not concerned about my connection, I need a reply to my complaint, in what form can I expect it
Him: Sir, we are lodging a complaint, do you know what documents you need to…
Me: Yes I do, I will follow this up, I don’t know how, Thank you.
Him: Thank you
Me: You are most welcome.
Further plans to continue the story
Err… I plan to unwind by eating food and watching the rest of the Anil Kapoor movie. I also plan to get print outs of whatever I have written and give it at the hutch shop tomorrow and ask anyone there to read it, and threaten to put all of this in the media. Or take it to the consumer court. If anyone can help me out, please call 9819137057… as soon as the connection gets activated that is.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
How to make Maggi Khardi Style
The single most memorable culinary expirience of my life.
That's a picture of me grinding the pepper. Notice the sticky thing on my forehead. also notice the carrots and the capsicum. Also notice the expression on my face. Here is the story behind the whole godforsaken thing:-
A bunch of us got together in this godforsaken little place well into nothingness, and this is how really hungry people made Noodles (referred to as Maggi, for some weird reason.)
Ingredients:
4 packets of Hakkah noodles
5 Capsicums
1 Slightly Rotten Capsicum
Carrots
Mushrooms
1 Cup Pepper
Soy Sauce
Chilli Sauce
Garlic
Utensils:
1 Old bartan with a dead spider sticking to it
1 Blunt Butter Knife
1 Pair of scissors
1 Knife
1 Peeler
4 Katoris
1 Thingy to flatten chapatis with
1 Cup/Lota
1 Can
4-5 marble tea coasters
Step I: Start with the carrots
Learn to peel the carrots. Its pretty easy, its the angle that counts, and you do it in long swipes instead of short quick rolls over the carrot. Of course, if you are a cook, this will be pretty damn obvious, but FUCKING REMEMBER YOUR FIRST TIME. As long as you dont gorge yourself in the stomach, you are good to go. Make strips NOT small circles, but small circles for the pointy end will do. Making some large circlular pieces for sake of variety will also do, but not too many of them. Out of boredom, making small pieces of the strips is also allowed. Steal the carrots when they are raw, that's when they taste the best.
Step II: Move on to the Capsicums
Try cutting with the butter knife, probably wont work, so start using scissors and making long strips of the whole thing. Pretty neat little trick actually, only you need to get out the whole bunch of seeds and shit in the middle, because it just looks ugly.
Step III: Meanwhile, have someone cut up the mushrooms.
Its simple, make quaters of it from the top if the mushrooms are small. If they are not, cut slices of it from the top and move sideways. They are really soft, so handle with care, and dont crumble them.
Step IV: Also, have two others work on the garlic
The garlic needs to be crushed. Since there is almost nothing to get this done properly, remember your dysfunctional love lives, get up all the anger the disturbed hormones can muster, and crush away to glory, for the sake of feeding your empty stomach. There is still time to eat the carrots, and have a go at the raw noodles as well. It won't last much longer now.
Step V: The Pepper
YOU DO NOT EAT NOODLES WITHOUT FINELY GROUND PEPPER. Remember that... so get everyone working on it... we had like six at one point of time. Use anything in the vicinity to crush the pepper, then hand it over to the guy with the roti-flattener (is it called an ironing rod? I donno) to grind it into fine powder. Use the tea coasters and the katoris if needed. This is the most time consuming phase of the entire operation. Be quick, steal some carrot with pepper, and you can go to the terrace, catch the shooting stars, and have a fag and some Olde Adventurer, which is local rum, also called tharra.
If not, you can go ahead and help make the actual noodles.
Cook the noodles in eight cups of water. Only there are no tea cups around, so use any rough measure possible, and drain out the excess water. Boil all the vegetables together and put it into the noodles. Since there are no onions, put in the garlic, and the mushrooms. Since there is a lot of it, and most of it was your hard work, use liberal amounts of the pepper.
wait for some time, because no one just starts eating now. Be very relieved that the ordeal is over. Light a fag, pour out a peg of olde adventurer, and go to the terrace anyway, because the hakka noodles is bad.
Come back down in the middle of the night, and realise how hungry you were, and thats when the garlic would have soaked, the pepper would have calmed down or something, and most of it ends up within you before you have a clue.
That's a picture of me grinding the pepper. Notice the sticky thing on my forehead. also notice the carrots and the capsicum. Also notice the expression on my face. Here is the story behind the whole godforsaken thing:-
A bunch of us got together in this godforsaken little place well into nothingness, and this is how really hungry people made Noodles (referred to as Maggi, for some weird reason.)
Ingredients:
4 packets of Hakkah noodles
5 Capsicums
1 Slightly Rotten Capsicum
Carrots
Mushrooms
1 Cup Pepper
Soy Sauce
Chilli Sauce
Garlic
Utensils:
1 Old bartan with a dead spider sticking to it
1 Blunt Butter Knife
1 Pair of scissors
1 Knife
1 Peeler
4 Katoris
1 Thingy to flatten chapatis with
1 Cup/Lota
1 Can
4-5 marble tea coasters
Step I: Start with the carrots
Learn to peel the carrots. Its pretty easy, its the angle that counts, and you do it in long swipes instead of short quick rolls over the carrot. Of course, if you are a cook, this will be pretty damn obvious, but FUCKING REMEMBER YOUR FIRST TIME. As long as you dont gorge yourself in the stomach, you are good to go. Make strips NOT small circles, but small circles for the pointy end will do. Making some large circlular pieces for sake of variety will also do, but not too many of them. Out of boredom, making small pieces of the strips is also allowed. Steal the carrots when they are raw, that's when they taste the best.
Step II: Move on to the Capsicums
Try cutting with the butter knife, probably wont work, so start using scissors and making long strips of the whole thing. Pretty neat little trick actually, only you need to get out the whole bunch of seeds and shit in the middle, because it just looks ugly.
Step III: Meanwhile, have someone cut up the mushrooms.
Its simple, make quaters of it from the top if the mushrooms are small. If they are not, cut slices of it from the top and move sideways. They are really soft, so handle with care, and dont crumble them.
Step IV: Also, have two others work on the garlic
The garlic needs to be crushed. Since there is almost nothing to get this done properly, remember your dysfunctional love lives, get up all the anger the disturbed hormones can muster, and crush away to glory, for the sake of feeding your empty stomach. There is still time to eat the carrots, and have a go at the raw noodles as well. It won't last much longer now.
Step V: The Pepper
YOU DO NOT EAT NOODLES WITHOUT FINELY GROUND PEPPER. Remember that... so get everyone working on it... we had like six at one point of time. Use anything in the vicinity to crush the pepper, then hand it over to the guy with the roti-flattener (is it called an ironing rod? I donno) to grind it into fine powder. Use the tea coasters and the katoris if needed. This is the most time consuming phase of the entire operation. Be quick, steal some carrot with pepper, and you can go to the terrace, catch the shooting stars, and have a fag and some Olde Adventurer, which is local rum, also called tharra.
If not, you can go ahead and help make the actual noodles.
Cook the noodles in eight cups of water. Only there are no tea cups around, so use any rough measure possible, and drain out the excess water. Boil all the vegetables together and put it into the noodles. Since there are no onions, put in the garlic, and the mushrooms. Since there is a lot of it, and most of it was your hard work, use liberal amounts of the pepper.
wait for some time, because no one just starts eating now. Be very relieved that the ordeal is over. Light a fag, pour out a peg of olde adventurer, and go to the terrace anyway, because the hakka noodles is bad.
Come back down in the middle of the night, and realise how hungry you were, and thats when the garlic would have soaked, the pepper would have calmed down or something, and most of it ends up within you before you have a clue.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Ten obviously wrong observations
10. You don't even know the back of your hand as the proverbial "back of your hand". (Its full of a whole bunch of flexors and tensors and veins and siesmoid bones and what not - one of the anatomically most complicated portions of the human body because of the number of joints and the accompanying muscles)
09. The wierdest thing that you believe in, despite what everyone else says, could be the most absolute truth our descendants will know (eg: Darwinian evolution)
08. Collectively, everyone, always, is behid the times.
07. No matter what you believe most in, you are standing on very fragile ground (eg. god)
06. Not even black or white is black and white (duh)
05. The past almost always shifts from being our birthright to our stigma (eg. The British Raj)
04. The most ideal approaches fails miserably in the "real world" (eg. Beurocracy)
03. The exceptions to the rule are the problem (eg. VIPs)
02. Most observations focus on the situation but not the point (any new skyscrapers built have to take invulnerability to aeroplanes as one of their design factors)
01. Systems based on treating all humans as equals turn out to be horribly wrong because of inequality amongst the humans (eg. democracy)
09. The wierdest thing that you believe in, despite what everyone else says, could be the most absolute truth our descendants will know (eg: Darwinian evolution)
08. Collectively, everyone, always, is behid the times.
07. No matter what you believe most in, you are standing on very fragile ground (eg. god)
06. Not even black or white is black and white (duh)
05. The past almost always shifts from being our birthright to our stigma (eg. The British Raj)
04. The most ideal approaches fails miserably in the "real world" (eg. Beurocracy)
03. The exceptions to the rule are the problem (eg. VIPs)
02. Most observations focus on the situation but not the point (any new skyscrapers built have to take invulnerability to aeroplanes as one of their design factors)
01. Systems based on treating all humans as equals turn out to be horribly wrong because of inequality amongst the humans (eg. democracy)
Number Plate Poker
Thursday, February 01, 2007
three | dimensional | psychoanalysis
Have the spirit | Have the heart
To worry about | to mind
Your intellect. | Your soul.
Beware of | Mind
alien thoughts Foreign ideas
That lack | That want
the mettle; the heart;
To challenge | To dispute
your psyche. your soul.
Listen to the voice | Mind the sound past
of history calling visiting the
out to
Mortals lost in the | Souls wasted in the
search for solace; exploration of comfort;
You are the wide | You are the broad
creation's heart. at nature's core.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)