What's in a name?

Have you ever passed through the phase in your childhood when your close relatives give you weird names? You already have a nickname but somehow it's too common and boring for people. Take my name nickname for example: Sonu. Every third person in India has that name. Especially in Punjab. Well actually for Punjab I'm glad I got a decent name. Otherwise they give you names like Piku, Tiku, Pappu, Pintu...It won't be surprise if these are their real names.

I remember getting the name "Thanda Garam" from someone from my Nani's house. Apparently I got this because I was never satisfied with the temperature of the milk that was given to me. Another name I got from my Nani's house was "Mirchi". Apparently I was too thin and bony in my childhood (I know its hard to imagine). I even remember some aunt's telling my Mom that even if she fries me in hot oil I'll not become fat (thanks a lot!).

I also got a chinese name from my cousin sister: Ching Fung Li(That's right my chinese name even had a freakin middle name). She still calls me Ching Li by the way (I know its catchy).

In school also I was given a lot of nicknames. Though they were mostly modifications of my real one. Gau, Goti, Gomzi (Thanks to Kyunki Saas bhi Kabhi Bahu thi), Gaumata. In college I was happy to get a decent nickname. My initials: GG. Although some of them have gone back to calling me Gau. Some of them an extended version of Gau i.e. Gauuuuuu (reminds me of some hybrid between a cow and a wolf).

The point is now that my life has taken a little turn :) and with the blessings of Goddess Parvati I get a new nick name almost everyday ;) .  

Oh Crap!

That's exactly what I keep blurting out these days. Why? Somehow my stars (read carelessness) don't match with certain things for example :- Important Documents. My CAT was scheduled on December 6th. I had no idea where my voucher was. Actually I had this faint belief that it was in my desk's top drawer. Has it ever happened with you that you have this terrible feeling that it might not be there but you never check because you don't want to shatter the only tiny thing that you have : hope. So naturally (now that I have explained) I didn't check before the 5th. And when I finally did: "Oh Crap!!" Now where the heck did it go. Did I ever put it in here? Is it in the folder where all my other important documents are (if there are any left i.e.)? Now I was looking at the prometric's website looking nervously at the FAQ'a. Can you believe it? Nothing remotely related to a lost voucher. My friends had a convenient explanation for the incomplete FAQs. "Dude! Nobody's that stupid." The call centre number was of no help either (I blame daytime office hours). So I went to sleep thinking that maybe Prometric would later understand.

Now do you believe in divine intervention (I heard this term first in a PDP session at CL). I actually dreamt that night where my voucher could be. I remembered that my drawer is usually very full and that I had trouble sometimes just opening it. I saw two possibilities that either my voucher had got stuck on the upper wall of my drawer or it could have fallen into the cabinet below. The first thing I did when I woke up was to check the cabinet and there it was lying there (All izz well!)

Now coming on to XAT (which by the way was today). I took extra precautions and took the print out of my admit card a day before. I woke up early and I am the center at the exact reporting time. I was looking around amidst the crowd to find people I know when (Fortunately) I thought of checking my admit card before I went in. The 3rd point under important instructions read "Bring original ID proof such as Driving Licence, Passport, Voter's Id etc".

Oh Crap!!

Sutta Friends

Everybody has friends (well almost). They could be School Friends, College Friends, Locality Friends, Gym Friends (I'll have those soon enough), Work Friends, Girlfriends, Boyfriends etc. But in my four years of college I have realized that there is another breed : "Sutta Friends". This is the easiest type to make. Its cheap too. All you have to do is ask for a match and there you go. You have just made a friend. Undoubtedly you are going to meet him almost everyday at the smoking hangout places (i.e. Sutta point. Every college has one).

Whats interesting to note is that the little high makes you forget the usual channels of making a friendship. If you see two guys sharing a cigarette they are probably best friends already. Soon the group increases and before you know this group hangs out everyday, goes to eat dinner everyday (at the local dhaba ofcourse), fights together (believe me they'll bleed for each other), study together (well they need each others help now more than ever). They even go vacationing together (places like Rishikesh for rafting). You can hear them shouting at 3 in the morning when they find out that one of the blessed souls has a 'sutta' left. They have terms like "Taxi" and "French Kiss" which are techniques of smoking together (Do not try this at home).

Whatever problems they may have with each other it takes but a Rs. 5 marlboro light to take that away. Kudos to such friends.
(Tribute to : Raju, Gulati, Tou, Kabra, Chotu, Goli, Johnny(who by the way is entering a different breed altogether), ketu, ronjan.....(its endless actually)..)

Puff away my weird friends...

Head Chef @ New Year's Eve

Thats right. I was spending New Years Eve all alone. Even my parents had gone clubbing (Actually the The Railway Club Ball). My brother had already shipped himself to Goa. My mom tells me he and his friends are putting up at some cottage near Anjuna Beach (Its not fair!). I mean people go to visit Anjuna but to live in Heaven itself (Unfair!!). So I decided that I would spend my New Year's Eve cooking. Well obviously my mom did not approve of the idea but had to comply (Best weapon: Flattery). It was a tough job dishing out all the old recipe books from the bookshelves. After a dusty affair my mom conveniently handed me the October's edition of Tarla Dalal's "Cooking & More". Have you ever gone through cookbooks before? They are hilarious. The names of the recipes makes you wonder whether its food or investment strategies. For example one of the recipes I chose was "Veg. Glycemic Index Biryani" (What the heck is Glycemia? Sounds like a disease). The other recipe I chose was "Brocolli, Cheese & Chilli Qeusadillas". Doesn't that sound cool. Cooking a what seemed like a Mexican Dish at home. But those who have a little bit of knowledge would know that this is Brocolli, cheese and chillies stuffed between two Makai ki rotis. Thats right. Quesadillas are Makai ki rotis. (Bloody Show Offs!) "Oh I would like some plain Quesadillas with Spinach Sauce". Punjab has been serving that for years now.

Now you must be wondering why I call myself the Head Chef. You think my mother would let me destroy her tidy kitchen with my clumsiness. She appointed my maid and servant to help me (or bear with me). The truth is they did all the cooking, blanching, kneading (i got all these terms from the magazine. I had to use a dictionary). I was only directing them (Hence the term Head. If they ever read this they'll probably laugh).

Well everything turned out well. We had added extra stuffing to our Quessadillas. Just Brocolli and chillies? (Yech!!) We threw in some onions, tomatoes, pasta and extra cheese. (What? Isn't that typical Indian mentality. We want more in less. Have you ever picked Onion & Capsicum Pizza from Veg-I category at Dominoes. You always go for the Farmhouse you greedy Bastards!). The glycemic biryani was ok. (How can it be? It was diseased). I lit some candles (Check the photo if you don't believe me). I used pomegranate seeds for garnishing. I even used one of my Mom's expensive wine glasses for my Diet Coke (I like to do things with style except the fact that it was just diet coke and not actual wine).

After the picture was taken I blew the candles,picked up my plate, rushed to the TV room and got back to watching what Victoria had in store for us while my assistants replenished the good food periodically.