Consider the following exchange between a woman with a humorous disposition and her not-so-humorous partner.
Punny Woman: I am pregnant.
Terrified Man: What?! Are you kidding me?!
Punny Woman: Yes.
Given Punny Woman does not pun all the time, is she pregnant?
Slapstick comments are welcome. :)
PS: Thanks to Psyche, who never ceases to be an inspiration for whatever stuff you see here.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Afterglow
Compiling this post has proved to be a tough proposition. For one, I don't manage to find as much leisure time in front of a monitor as before. And as for point two, well...read on.
Like I said in my previous post, imagining myself as someone who's not a student was a pretty comical thought. But it was once I keyed in the post and re-read it several times that something else struck me. I'd gotten myself into a drill. A drill so mentally draining that it would drive me to wonder about the last time I'd actually laughed out loud (or LOLled, like a few people might put it) till my belly ached. Must have been a couple of months back.
So I got around to jotting down a few moments whose value I thought would be priceless. Moments that would make you feel like something from deep down inside was slowly creeping up your wind pipe, like adrenaline making your heart thump sending a rush of blood to your head. Moments, a few of which would never come back. I choose to call it the Nirvana effect. Here is a list of instances. Tell me how many you can relate to.
Waking up to the sound of music, yawning profusely, making a half hearted attempt to lift up your body, but thinking the better of it half a second later, and snuggling back into the pillow. Bliss.
The awry feeling in your stomach when you're making the descent from about a hundred feet on a giant-wheel or whooshing past at lightning speed on a roller coaster ride. Sometimes, even a plane taking off makes my arms bristle.
An Indian cricket victory which you wanted really badly. Remember when we chased down 316 versus the Pakis in Dhaka something like a decade back? The feeling was insane. While I remember screaming at the top of my voice (well, we are more mature now ;) ) my sisters leapt and wept for joy. Now that's what is national pride.
Guitar solos are sometimes rendered so clinically, to the extent of causing temporary amnesia. At times you find you're stared at by people on the road on account of contorting your eyes and face rather tightly, following every movement of Stairway to Heaven or November Rain down to the last riff, your fingers around an imaginary guitar all the while. And getting a tune right after four hours of relentless guitar practice is like a birthday present.
For those of you who haven't seen or heard of tap-dancing, please watch this. The guy is called Michael Flatley. He shall fill in the shoes of my role model if I ever plan to give up my coding job in search of what my heart really wishes me to be ;). His movements give you a real kick. (Unintended pun. No joke, this!). The Irish music in the background is just as delightful as the swaying feet of the dancers. In a word, it's Grace.
For someone who is majorly taken with cryptic crosswords, it felt magical to complete The Hindu Crossword in less than an hour. I was then in the form of my life, something I haven't been able to repeat for a couple of years now. And well, staying with Crosswords, a certain outlet at Icon Mall on 12th Main at Indira Nagar, Bangalore has been a rather special place during the course of my final semester internship.
Sessions on mindless drivel with The Pharaoh recounting riveting gossip tales, with debates spanning a distorted spectrum of husky voices , CIA agents, kickass pickup lines (Top Gun, eh? ;) ) and cranky movie titles like V for Vendakka (Non-Tamilians, sorry. There's no joke here).
There is so much more to key in, but putting them in black and white seems to be a killing job. That was point number two.
Like I said in my previous post, imagining myself as someone who's not a student was a pretty comical thought. But it was once I keyed in the post and re-read it several times that something else struck me. I'd gotten myself into a drill. A drill so mentally draining that it would drive me to wonder about the last time I'd actually laughed out loud (or LOLled, like a few people might put it) till my belly ached. Must have been a couple of months back.
So I got around to jotting down a few moments whose value I thought would be priceless. Moments that would make you feel like something from deep down inside was slowly creeping up your wind pipe, like adrenaline making your heart thump sending a rush of blood to your head. Moments, a few of which would never come back. I choose to call it the Nirvana effect. Here is a list of instances. Tell me how many you can relate to.
Waking up to the sound of music, yawning profusely, making a half hearted attempt to lift up your body, but thinking the better of it half a second later, and snuggling back into the pillow. Bliss.
The awry feeling in your stomach when you're making the descent from about a hundred feet on a giant-wheel or whooshing past at lightning speed on a roller coaster ride. Sometimes, even a plane taking off makes my arms bristle.
An Indian cricket victory which you wanted really badly. Remember when we chased down 316 versus the Pakis in Dhaka something like a decade back? The feeling was insane. While I remember screaming at the top of my voice (well, we are more mature now ;) ) my sisters leapt and wept for joy. Now that's what is national pride.
Guitar solos are sometimes rendered so clinically, to the extent of causing temporary amnesia. At times you find you're stared at by people on the road on account of contorting your eyes and face rather tightly, following every movement of Stairway to Heaven or November Rain down to the last riff, your fingers around an imaginary guitar all the while. And getting a tune right after four hours of relentless guitar practice is like a birthday present.
For those of you who haven't seen or heard of tap-dancing, please watch this. The guy is called Michael Flatley. He shall fill in the shoes of my role model if I ever plan to give up my coding job in search of what my heart really wishes me to be ;). His movements give you a real kick. (Unintended pun. No joke, this!). The Irish music in the background is just as delightful as the swaying feet of the dancers. In a word, it's Grace.
For someone who is majorly taken with cryptic crosswords, it felt magical to complete The Hindu Crossword in less than an hour. I was then in the form of my life, something I haven't been able to repeat for a couple of years now. And well, staying with Crosswords, a certain outlet at Icon Mall on 12th Main at Indira Nagar, Bangalore has been a rather special place during the course of my final semester internship.
Sessions on mindless drivel with The Pharaoh recounting riveting gossip tales, with debates spanning a distorted spectrum of husky voices , CIA agents, kickass pickup lines (Top Gun, eh? ;) ) and cranky movie titles like V for Vendakka (Non-Tamilians, sorry. There's no joke here).
There is so much more to key in, but putting them in black and white seems to be a killing job. That was point number two.