mannequins with nipples, & what next?

I took this pic at a store in a local mall...

WEIRD!

I don’t get this, why the eff should mannequins have nipples? I find it tasteless.

What next? Tampons or sanitary pads peeking 3 days a month? Maybe a stain on the white robe?

And during peak hours, the MAN-nequin in the next window could have a boner?

A couple of years ago, at Lulu, the mannequin actually had a bra (black) under the saree blouse (material pinned on). Some horny dummy-dresser for sure!

PS: This shop is some White something, and I can’t quite remember the name

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attempts at understanding haiku AND liars

My feeble attempt at haiku AND understanding chronic liars

she lies so often
forgets truth is an option
who is she really?

summer or winter
taking cover under her
uninhibited fibs

that young a liar
must be congenital or
am i being harsh?

 
ps: due credit to my haiku teacher, my 6-year-old niece. thanks diya darling.
psst: and the season bit is missing in 2 of the 3. that’s ok for beginners i guess.
 

Or on second thoughts, instead of going all intellectual, should I just go up to her cubicle and chant one of the below inanities

Liar, liar lipstick, born on a broomstick

broomstick broke, liar got a poke

OR

Liar Liar

Pants on Fire

 

Oh, how I wish I were still in kindergarten, and didn’t HAVE to behave myself.

Multi-tasking Me

**really long, angry, upset and sometimes incoherent rant ahead**

“i am an AMAZING multi-tasker. And I don’t take kindly to remarks like ‘having lots of time on hand’. I call it efficiency. i call it prioritising, work, home, pleasure… it’s not just about babe in arms, child in school, a home, a full-time career and my online buzzing…got the energy, so expending it :)”

**the smiley was not heartfelt. Just put there to temper the vitriol a bit** 

That’s what I told someone on fb, who had the cheek to post this on her status line: “V, You seem to have a lot of time on hand. Who takes care of the baby? should get some time management lessons from you…”

I probably over-reacted as I am wont to, and acted all ‘pouncy’ (as a friend described it).

But I am so fed up with comments on this vein, since this is not the first time and it won’t be the last that I hear of this nonsense.

Just because I have a new born, am I supposed to abandon all efforts at a life outside of that?

I am going to give up all pretence of modesty here. I pack in more into a single day than what some wouldn’t manage to even in a week. It’s not all hunky-dory either. I over extend myself, feel fatigued and neglect my health. Those are choices, wise or otherwise, that I am making.

I am not proud or vain about it.

I AM THAT WAY, that’s all.

I have a career, and doing not too badly on that front. I find time for my regular pedicures and waxing. I have a lot of friends, and keep in regular touch with almost all of them. I love to read, and do read a lot. I am enamoured by the internet, and can’t have enough of all that it throws up. I am quite a hands-on mum (and hands-on wife, if you know what I mean ;)).

There I go again with my winky and smiley. GRR! I must learn to communicate better with words, without resorting to emoticons.
Especially since words are my livelihood.

So it really pisses me off when people think I do all this because I have lots of time.

I have the 24hours a day that all of us are entitled to. If I choose to be maniacal about filling every minute of it, it’s my bloody business. If you choose to sit at home with kids and husband the whole day, sweating over their every needs, that’s your ‘career choice’ and I respect that.

I respect it a LOT in fact, because I DON’T cook AT ALL and DON’T keep house too often.

I would rather spend that time lounging with my daughters or playing Scrabble with my husband (that’s what we did when I went into a rather long labour). And when I am not doing any of that, I would rather read, blog, tweet or fb.

 What if I turned around and asked: “You are pretty useless aren’t you? You have 24 hours and don’t do much.”

How dare anyone insinuate that I am neglecting my maternal role. “who takes care of your baby?”

Coming from an ‘almost stranger’ I know it’s not concern. We schooled together some 20 years ago, along with a few hundred others. We were not even remotely friendly.

Come home and see for yourself. My children, husband and home are all well taken care of. The non-critical tasks like cooking and cleaning I’ve delegated.

Going back to the question that has got me all fired up: Indeed, who takes care of my baby(ies)? My husband and I. I manage to do all that I’ve stated above, AND ensure that N is EXCLUSIVELY breastfed. Just as I did for O.

**warning breastfeed rant coming up soon in a blog you know** 

I run to and fro office, catch up on calls on the road, make a dozen notes a day to ensure that I don’t slip up with O’s activities, and if a friend needs to chat, I find time for that as well! And as far as work goes, I am living my dream job. I do cry off exercise and health check-ups. Again, I don’t mention this in pride or vanity. I am only reiterating that this is who I am.

Maybe the person made the comment in all innocence. But I am not in a particularly charitable mood. In any case, charity doesn’t sit well on everybody.

The FATTY Factor of my reaction:

The reason I am “pouncy” is because for ever so long, I’ve described myself as a lazy person. This exchange on fb, made me rethink it, and made me angry at myself.

First of all, fat people have a way of dubbing themselves lazy. Come on, it’s not us, but our metabolism that is lazy. It’s almost as if we are explaining why all that extra fat sticks to us. “It’s ‘cos we are LAZY. Sorry.”

Once and for all, here is the final VERDICT that I pass on myself, to myself. I AM NOT LAZY. I just don’t do things I don’t care for. Like cooking and cleaning and visiting people I don’t like and calling people I don’t want to talk to. In these situations, I shamelessly will use and have used the lazy or no time or new-baby card.

I also desist from doing things because of a vague fear – like exercising. I know it’s good, but am too scared of it being ineffective that I drop out before I start. It’s definitely not for lack of time. That’s about the extent of my laziness. The rest of me is all fired up and ready to go.

Want to meet a tight deadline, and then take the kids swimming, then catch up for coffee, get kids into bed, and get back online to chat and tweet? Then you’ve got your girl.

Not because I have all the time in the world, but because I have my priorities set to my liking. (And also because fortunately (for the I in me) or unfortunately (for the wife in me), my husband works evening to night.

So if my kids, husband, family and friends have nothing to complain or comment about, no else has a right to.

PT if you are reading this, it is not a personal attack. I barely know you to make it one. But it’s my personal rant space where I vent, and try to get through to people if possible.

The Monkey is Drunk Again… and Wanders…

 Paneer and Men on My Mind

Cheesy deals

Cheesy deals

Today I complete 14 years of vegetarianism. And I am getting bored. Especially here. How many paneer tikkas and dals, salads and mashed potatoes can a person have?

I still am not tempted by red/white meat or fish. If I had a good spread of vegetarian food, I would choose that over the dead animals ANY DAY.

With no great interest in cooking, we eat out a lot. This can be tough in this vegetarian-unfriendly environment.

The only decent veg stuff you get seems to be paneer, cheese and more varieties of cheese. No wonder weekends are a fart-feast! Yucks!

So I wonder if I should become a Flexitarian. Will make life easier all around.

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H-arse-sha

H-arse-sha

I love cricket. But that ass Harsha Bhogle is spoiling it for me. Can’t he just SHUT UP? How the bloody hell does he get his contract. He is boring, has no sense of humour, is no cricketer and doesn’t even look good. Here is one of the many prized inanities he comes up with: “Where is it? Go find it, if you can.” — after a six that went far.

If it’s not something this stupid, then it’s stuff like “x is running towards the non-striker’s end, or y is scratching his b****” – has anyone told him this is TV commentary, not radio?

And his voice? Like fingernails on chalkboard! Grrrr!

Rhyme & Ready

Rhyme & Ready

Give me back Siddhu any day. At least he rhymes his nonsense, and is a natty dresser. Also, it’s not often that you get to listen to a well-read, well-dressed murderer.

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I AM a Male Chauvinist Piggess. I would be ‘ok’ with a Sharapova or Hingis breaking down and sobbing. But when Fedex did it I found it rather pansy-ish.

Don't cry for me...

Don't cry for me...

Yeah, in general I am uncomfortable with people weeping in public, male or female.

Tears in the face of tragedy or great humour is ok, but because you lost? Or because things are not going your way? Please, that has to stop when you are 8 or thereabouts.

Just hope he wins tomorrow, not because I am a great fan or anything, but because I don’t want to watch a great sportsman make a joke of himself, and act like a bad sport.

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Mushy about Shashi

Mushy about Shashi

Now here is another man who confuses me. Good looking, super achiever, amazingly talented, superb writer, won an election in Mallu-land without speaking the tongue. Is he ALSO straight? If yes, how come more of his kind is missing?

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Creepy Singh, with the annoying B family

Creepy Singh, with the annoying B family

Here is a creepy specimen. Amar Singh. Is he living in a bubble? Is there no one to tell him that he is downright obnoxious? His pals A the Ambani and A the Bachchan all seem quite intelligent, if not nice, so where does he get his advice from?

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dhoni

Would Dhoni or SRK be appealing if they weren’t successful? Money and fame is what gives men theirsrk good looks. Otherwise most of them are pretty ordinary.

Of course it doesn’t hold good for EVERYBODY. Salman still looks like the rat’s ass.  Let’s just say, fame, money and a bit of charisma equals hotness!

People

It was only after I moved away from home, family and madras, did I get a clear perspective of what people were really like.

After living all my life in one particular kind of environment and routine, I had no real ‘separation’ to see things for what they were.

You realise whom you thought of as overbearing was just a caring sister.

The person who questioned your decisions and criticised your actions was only being a true friend.

The colleague who spent every night at your place was probably just sponging off you…

Put some distance. That’s when you get a clear filter.

That’s when you learn to separate the chaff from the grain.

Like the management joke that goes – not everyone who shits on you is your enemy, not everyone who pulls you out of shit is your friend…

It’s merely a myth that the more time you spend with a person, the better you know him/her. You need distance to gauge a person.

After being ensconced in a routine of sorts over the last 5 years, I got my distance and my space, when I took a break for my second pregnancy.

So you move away, and see yourself and the people around you from a telescopic distance. And their character just pops up. Like pieces of a puzzle things just fall in place.

The insecurity behind a person’s martyr act;

the defensiveness behind a person’s long drawn explanations;

the rabble-rousing behind the uncalled for confidences;

the guilt behind a person’s exaggerated laugh;

and also the trustworthiness behind a person’s brutal honesty;

straightforwardness behind their indifference;

the care behind the non-stop calls;

the warmth behind the silence…

You get to see people for what they are when you remove yourself from the environment.

Just as distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, it also helps in shaking yourself out of false intimacies.

But that doesn’t mean you won’t repeat the mistakes, trust blindly and get taken for a ride. It just means that you fall a little less harder the next time around.

Antenatal hormones can really bring out the philosopher in you.