Monday, October 26, 2009

Sing It!

For all those of us who yearn to be song-writers but can neither sing nor have friends who sing, here's a web-site that has something to offer: an audio-patchwork of words that have already been sung by other songsters, stitched into a song composed by YOU! Here's the website: Let Them Sing For You. It's really EASY. But in case you're feeling shy, here's a ready-made "song" for you to input:

You don't need a verse
A tune or a song --
It won't take a moment,
You'll see I'm not wrong!
Just enter your words
And click on the arrow --
Then tell me about it
Today or tomorrow!

--no, wait! I've experimented a bit and realize now that less is more (always!) -- i.e., less sense = more amusement.

Try these lyrics to see what I mean:

sing body sing song
hot sexy bread sing
body beat music long
just rock beat now now now

Sunday, October 25, 2009

25th October, Delhirium

I've been away from the blog for so long I feel like a visitor! I dropped in now and then, just to remind myself it was there but I just did NOT feel like posting any updates. Maybe coz I was also writing bulletins to post to my Mom as well as making weak little attempts to do a bit of writing on the side? Maybe coz I was distracted by the amusements in the house I was staying in -- including a pair of very talkative Austrailian Zebra Finches? Maybe coz I spent a good half of my stay leaping on and off subways, buses and finally a train (back from Vermont)? Whatever. It was a hectic trip, but fun and I got a lot done, but have very little evidence to show for it! This little kitty was perhaps the only creature who got recorded on my camera, and she belongs to my Vermont family. I am SO fed up with my camera -- though I feel instantly disloyal writing this. Poor little thing! It does its best ... but I bought it at a moment in technology when cameras had just become self-aware but were not yet energy-efficient. So even though it takes acceptable photographs with the minimum of effort/thought on my part, it chews up batteries like a barracuda. I can never take more than about 30 pix in quick succession without being shown the "dying battery" icon and if, god forbid, the flash goes off at any time, well then pop goes the battery two pictures later. MOST FRUSTRATING. I try to remind myself of the days when the problem was running out of film or putting the film in backwards or of misjudging filmspeed -- but to no avail. It is STILL very annoying not to be able to use the camera spontaneously. gnngngngngnnnnggngggn, as Obelix might say.

Anyhow. I got back one week ago, last Saturday night, but was immediately felled by a monster cold. I mean, it had been threatening to break over my head the whole of my final week in NYC, but only really let itself go once I was back in Delhi. I didn't have a fever, so I wasn't worrying about H1N1 but omigod the FLOODS in my nose were like having twin rivers at high tide just pouring continuously. And a sensation like a saw-mill in my throat. Coupled with a desire to just burrow into my bed and DIE.

Which is pretty much what I did ALL WEEK. I have literally not stepped outside my house ever since returning -- I mean, yesterday evening I stepped into the little community park outside my front door and that was the first time I had worn outdoor shoes since removing them after the flight.

Speaking of which: it was one of those Continental Nonstops, filled to overflowing. I was scared to look out the windows in case I saw a few passengers clinging to the wings. Really. But I had planned well in advance, and had booked myself an aisle seat. My neighbour, however, was less fortunate. He seemed a very nice person, he was SO uncomplaining -- a tall, very polite and soft-spoken Afghan, he had been waiting to board a flight for two nights and this was his best bet. I even offered to give up my aisle seat in view of his discomfort but he was too polite to accept my offer. Half-way through the journey he got up and lay down in the space between the central bulkhead and the seat-backs of the middle section -- lucky for him, there was a lull in crew activity so no-one contested his use of that space. Poor man! 16 hours of being curled up like a shrimp. Yow.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Rubber Cement Advertisement & Cute Child-Wit

Who would have thought that an advertisement for RUBBER CEMENT could pack so much meaning, potential political unrest and delicious mischief into an ad for sticky stuff? ONLY THE FRENCH! Go click. Sent to me by my excellent friend Anvar Alikhan.

And just in case you need something to help you wind down after having watched that ad, here's an amusement sent to me by my e-buddy Chuck:

Why do we love children? Because of these examples...
I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'
On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother.
The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents '
A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'
A little boy got lost at the YMCA and he found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'
5) POLICE # 1
While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop?
‘Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report.
‘My mother said that if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?'
'Yes, that's right,' I told her..
'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'
6) POLICE # 2
It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked.
'It sure is,' I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'
While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. The various appliances of old age unfailingly intrigued her, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, ‘The tooth fairy will never believe this!'
A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, 'Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit.'
'And why not, darling?'
'You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning.'
While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased. The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Father, and unto the Son, and into the hole he goes.' (I want that line used at my funeral!)
A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time, ' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'

Thursday, October 01, 2009


This joke was sent to me by my cousin Prabha who lives in Italy. She prefaced the joke with a suggestion that an Indian scenario was sorely needed. I've posted my offering at the end of the list but hope that some of you might be inspired to work on your own variations!

On a chain of beautiful deserted islands in the middle of South Pacific, the following people are stranded:
Two Italian men and one Italian woman.
Two French men and one French woman.
Two German men and one German woman.
Two Greek men and one Greek woman.
Two British men and one British woman.
Two Romanian men and one Romanian woman.
Two Japanese men and one Japanese woman.
Two Chinese men and one Chinese woman.
Two Irish men and one Irish woman.
Two American men and one American woman.


Two Indian men and one Indian woman.

One month later, on these absolutely stunning deserted islands in the middle of nowhere, the following things have occurred:

One Italian man killed the other Italian man for the Italian woman.

The two French men and the French woman are living happily together in a ménage a trois.

The two German men have a strict weekly schedule of alternating visits with the German woman.

The two Greek men are sleeping together and the Greek woman is cooking and cleaning for them.

The two British men are waiting for someone to introduce them to the British woman.

The two Romanian men took one look at the Romanian woman and started swimming to another island.

The two Japanese men have faxed Tokyo and are awaiting instructions.

The two Chinese men have set up a pharmacy, restaurant, and laundry, and have gotten the woman pregnant in order to supply more employees for their stores.

The two Irish men have divided the island into north and south and set up a distillery. They do not remember if sex is in the picture because it gets somewhat foggy after a few pints of coconut whisky. However, they're satisfied because the British aren't having any fun.

The two American men are contemplating suicide because the American woman complains relentlessly about her body, what the sun is doing to her skin, how sand and palm trees make her look fat, the true nature of feminism, how she can do anything they can do, the necessity of fulfillment, the equal division of household chores, how her last boyfriend respected her opinion and treated her nicer than they do, and how her relationship with her mother is the root cause of all her problems, and why didn't they bring a damn cell phone so they could call 911 and get them all rescued off this forsaken deserted island in the middle of freaking nowhere so she can get her nails done and go shopping.


All three Indians have died in the hope that they will be reincarnated as the French ménage a trois.