Thaaru Maaru Daaru Daaru

That's Phineas's catchphrase. Catchphrase? Phineas? That?? Exactly. My latest addiction - Phineas and Ferb in Tamil, and honestly, I love it. The original P&F is awesome, needless to say, and I adore it. But the Tamil version's got me ROFL everyday!! really.

The Tamil dubbing is simply superb. Phineas' language is like our very own school kids' - the slang, the accent, the delicate jargon. You got to watch it! Thaaru maaru, daaru daaru... Hei Ferb, naama inniku enna panna poromnu mudivu pannittaen..Hey, Perry engae?? Those are just a few picks. Ferb's pearls of wisdom have the panache that only superstars like Rajnikaanth and Vijaykaanth share - Nalla vaayam mudipaan, naara vaayan keduppan.. Kadham kadham.


Probably Ashley Tisdale from Aminjikarai gives Candace her voice. and it is absolutely hilarious. Candace uses posh terms like Gujilipa, bujji-kutti... Man, Jeremy, are you in a stroke of luck or what!

The highlight of the entire show is Heinz Doof. He has this heavy, interior-south accent and you cannot stop laughing once he starts talking. The dubbing is so cool he even says 'Feeter thee panda' for 'Peter, the panda'. yes, Feeter, with an 'f'. and yes, thee with two e's. The way he calls Perry - Perrrrrry, the plaaaatiipus. God, this is side-splitting material.

I can never tire of P&F - the Tamil version. It is fabulous. You gotta watch it. YOU GOT TO! Disney XD, 1930 hours, everyday.

My Tata Docomo Commercial

Most of you would have seen that Docomo commercial, the interview one for MySong. I like it. And today, I lived it! I had an interview with a really good company (Not mentioning name for fear of losing my job ;) ). I had already taken those ap-tests and stuff, with no prior preparation obviously. and I got selected. What!! The way the recruiter spoke to me over phone yesterday, I thought there was only going to be a direct interview involving non-technical details. I go to the office today and take my seat with 5-6 people waiting for the interview. Good heavens! Except for me and a totally-drenched-in-sweat guy, everyone is poring over books. I feel like crap, honestly. I didn't even know there was a technical round. Awesome!


I am in the lounge... partly thinking of walking out. I haven't seen my text books in like ages. And with a memory span like mine - God, I am done. I just say - Lord. Listen. I don't know anything. Do whatever you want. Serious. I didn't even 'Amen' the prayer, now I remember. The tech-round-person calls me in. * When was the last time I attended an interview? Two years back. What!! And this person has smartness smothered all over his face. Great! *. It began like sort-of okay. He asked me about my college projects and my work stuff in Brazil. So far, so good. *Can I leave now????*


Uh unn... There starts the commercial. He starts with all these nice little basic things. For most questions I answered what would have been the most logical thing to do. Like what would you do when your browser window hangs? 
Me: I will end the process in the task manager.
He: What if it all freezes? 
Me: I will force power off and restart.


Then, we went on to Level 2. What is the difference between a worm, a trojan and a virus. I define them the way I want and give a totally crap answer that includes ancient Greece, Troy and Achilles. "Mmmm...." He smiles. *Can I leave now????* .


 He: Okay, let's talk about Safe mode. Why do we use it? How do we use it?
 Me: ummm... I would press F8.. *Please let it be F8, Lord*... and.. ummm... I use it when my installed OS has some problems.. and ummm.. I want to rectify them.. and.. ummm... in a much less.. ummm... *what word is that. heck.*.. you know, functionality thing, you know... *Technical terms, to hell with you*... 


He: Okaaayyyy, ( still smiling in a way that made me look like an idiot )... Now I am almost sure the interview is over. I want to get out of this place before he takes me for a total idiot. But then, most wishes don't come true when you want them to. aaaarrgh!! The questions that followed, I have no idea wat they were. Some words rang a faint bell somewhere inside the cranium. probably from the occipital lobe - it was pretty distant. *oh man, oh man.. that word.. from the 4th sem.. *... And for ALL the questions after that, I had one standard answer. No, three, actually. 


1. errr... I am not sure, sir.
2. I.. I.. I don't exactly remember now, sir
3. ummm... that.. I don't know, sir


*Can I leave now? puh leez... :( *


He: (looks at my resume) How may I call you?
Me: *Romba mukiyam!!* Sharon, sir.. *started to fake it, but ended up smiling honestly*. I like it that way. :)
He: can you wait for some time Sharon? You can take the next round.
Me: Thank you, sir (Like I knew I would clear this round)


Out of the Discussion room... and me, to self - Oh My God.. Oh My God.. Oh My God.. What are you, Lord! Even I wouldn't have hired myself! Are you doing this Docomo thing on me coz you know I like the ad??


I got the job... and I am still clueless how.. :)

THE Cinderella Story

'Cinderella' is my second most favorite fairy tale. I was arranging my sister's fairy-tale dolls and thought clouds with Cinderella tags popped over my head. Unassuming, ordinary, poor Ella by the cinders... Magical fairy Godmother (whose role was taken by daVinci in Drew Barrymore's medieval rendition and online chat in Hilary Duff's high school version)... Prince Charming... Love... Happily ever after. Develop the hints!

I was playing the story in my mind and then it struck me - mine is a perfect Cinderella story. Hold your breath. Yeah, I get to be Cinderella in my story. And okay, I am Cinderella sans the beauty, the soft-spokenness, the charm and the long, flowing hair. Big-time-loser -> that was me. My childhood wasn't exactly royalty. Nor was any other phase. ;). Growing up, my best friends were milkmaids and annas who were giving their sixth grade final exams the 6th or 7th go. I was scared of people. Scared of embarrassment. I would rather not play than strike out in a game. I thought I would never be able to do anything good. at all.

Man, who knew it was the cue for the Prince!

My Cinderella story has this slight twist - there's no fairy godmother.In mine, the Prince came looking for me. He knew how pathetic my life was and still chose me. He made my life most beautiful. Gave me everything, even my wishes that were yet unasked. 'Christ in Brazil' was my dream from class eight. Who'd have guessed that this small town girl would one day get to see the Redeemer in all splendor! I hadn't met any girl from a university choir who had been attending a choir-less church back home till I saw myself in the mirror after a college Christmas recital. This Prince Charming has given me amazing love at home, loads of friends, opportunities, health, money, joy, peace.. everything. To top it, He has taken me to the banquet hall, and his banner over me is love... (Song of Songs 2:4)

His turn to speak. and He says : My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. (Song of Songs 2:14)


Tell you what, I feel like I am living a dream. Feel like I am living a fairy tale - The Cinderella Story.

Post-Carnaval Trauma

The pre-carnaval-Carnaval-post-carnaval phase of my life feels like an over-twisted Tamil soap opera. The last two months, I've been finding myself in some super-drama plots. Emotional stuff kinda piled up - Betrayal, lonliness, embarrasment, doubts, anger. But the biggest heartbreak came a day after Carnaval.

Okay, Rewind. << .

The Carnaval break was great. Was away in Antonina with Ju's, a beach nearby. Learnt to swim, went fishing, caught a decently big fish, and got to know a cute Brazilian. Seems he was my neighbor but I had never seen him before! He didn't speak English. Well, actually, he didn't speak much. Just a few words when we played Monopoly and fooled around with Portuguese riddles one afternoon. But we wagered on who could stay longer inside the water. (Fine, I lost!! ) Isn't that enough to fall in love? Come on, it is.

So, here's this nice guy I overheard was 24. Was cursing myself for not having noticed him in the last 5 months and he lived just 3 houses to my left. darn me. By the way, his name is Luis. And other than the fact that he had 2 tattoos and a tongue piercing, I pretty much liked him. I thought this was the best Carnaval ever.

I returned to Curitiba, dreaming of Luis and poured out my overflowing heart to tia Sola - a distant relative of Luis' and my neighbor. Was hoping she would help me make my Brazilian future. She gave me the stats. She broke my heart.

Luis is 15. He goes to school.

Paul, I am sorry.

The first thing I want to tell Paul when I get to heaven – Paul, I am sorry. Yeah, that Paul – of Tarsus, famous from the Damascus incident and much more.

Honestly, I didn't like Paul very much until recently. I thought he was snobbish. When BeyondMadness and I were once talking about who we would want to be friends with in heaven, I said David. She picked Paul. I said I wouldn't really talk much to Paul there. He was a great person, alright, but to me he seemed to show-off too much. He had learnt a lot, knew a lot, had truckloads of influence but I thought he didn't act all that humble. A quality my superhero David had in immeasurable amounts. It always amazes me how a King could say, "Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house that you have brought me this far?"! How could David, who killed his ten thousands, dance undignified on the streets for the Lord! How could the ruler of a nation give his choice time for God, write songs on Him and make music to Him! Wow. Define humility for me!

And so, to me, Paul was this highly educated scholar, a pompous genius with attitude tagging alongside. Do this. Don't do that. Some of you do this. Why do you do that? You are infants. Be careful. Questions. Exhortations. Commands. Huh! I thought Paul was saying all that he did, the way he did, because he thought he was much better than all those people and as if everyone else was an idiot. I didn't like the idea. I was kinda prejudiced against Paul, and hence his writings. I knew God would soon teach me the lesson I needed.

And He did. The beautiful part of my learning was not the lesson, per se, but the way He taught it.

I used to write to a friend of mine, Bruce. Bruce was very dear to me and I cared a lot about him. At times I used to write things like – Do this… don't do that… you could do this… Questions, exhortations, suggestions. I meant them to remind him of things one might tend to forget or overlook, to make sure he doesn't lose track. And many times, he would reply – "So, that's what you think of me? That I am bad? Fine, if that's what you think". I would have given anything to make him understand that it wasn't to pull his esteem down or show that I was better (Which I wasn't, BTW) that I wrote them. It was out of love, and all that I could do to keep up the "Build each other" command from Ephesians 4:29. Bruce was important to me and I took the right to tell him things. I was upset and told God that Bruce always got my intentions wrong, when God gently pointed to that corner in my mind that disliked Paul for his "Big-headedness". Felt like I was punched in the stomach. I was feeling bad that Bruce was behaving this way to me, when all the while I was doing the same to Paul. Man!

Paul was writing all that stuff in his letters coz he loved the people. He took his rights, not to boast and buff his ego but coz he cared. And I thought he was a snob. God forbid!! Man, what had I been doing? I wanted Bruce to understand my intent but I never had gotten Paul's. =/. I apologized to God and promised to change my attitude toward Paul. Well, God went ahead to open my eyes wider to Paul's life.

Guess what was the syllabus in adult Sunday school for the next two months? Paul! As we learnt about Paul and his life, I felt a deep sense of admiration growing inside of me for him. I couldn't imagine how hard it would have been for such a grand genius to give up his status, his "gethu" for the Lord and boldly choose to be persecuted for the sake of the gospel. The last class we had on Paul and we were learning from the second book of Timothy. And when we were at the place where Paul was saying what will later become a famous line – I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith – I saw tears fall on the pages but didn't care to mop my eyes. I let them fall so that if Paul was looking down, he would know how really ashamed I was of myself.

Such a great apostle, Paul. Such a great human, with such humility. God taught me my lesson in way I could never forget. And Paul is now officially my favorite writer!

And the first thing I want to tell Paul when I get to heaven – Paul, I am sorry… and er… Could you sign my new testament?

 

 

Between Nostalgia and the Not-so-algia..

Guess nostalgic feelings are pretty common if you have just relocated to a whole new place, from four years of sedation in fun and happy-go-luckiness. And I am no exception! But then, there are lots to enjoy and explore. And life is pretty easy and things are at easy access.

Buses are almost on time. People stand in queues. The seats are not broken. People don’t sit on the bus top and neither is the bus floor covered in vomit.

Roses grow over fences. Both, white Picket and wires. instead of our (spell check disabled) ‘bougainvillea’. And I guess, there are more varieties and colors of roses in three adjacent houses than in the Ooty botanical garden. Really.

This city is clean. The mayor doesn’t even know I exist or my blog. So forget bribing me. The tidiness is fact.

People are very, very friendly. Friendlier than many friends I have known.
The weather is superb. Summer has just set in. Warm days and not-so-nippy nights.. I like it.

The food is..mmm..too good I gained two kilos in 15 days! Something that Karunya couldn’t do in 4 years!!

This place is really nice, you know. I’m not sure if I wanna go back home.

But more often than not, memories flood and I feel like those are still real and happening in another part of the world and I just want to return to that sweet familiarity. Yeah,I know.. it is less credible than those space portals from the Hot Wheels movies. They are all over! Sad truth.. but..

Walking alone to the bus terminal.. How many times have I walked the college grounds with friends, cheer and laughter. There was company even to the toilet. Wow!!

Java.Oracle.Linux.Java.Eclipse.Oracle.Java. Huh! I remember the project semester. The “supervised” lab sessions when we sincerely played crosswords and that ‘tallying tables’ game. I remember Netbeans and OpenSuse. I remember the Unix labs. And the void inside everyone’s head. Including the lecturers’. How happy we all were. Wish I could relive those days. Just the same way!

Strogonoff, Baguette, Promotus, HotDogs, Pizzas. Nice food.. But it is just meat, meat and more meat everyday. I remember the mess food – Poori and Channa, that Sambar sadham with nei, Parotta-Curma, Cauliflower, Cutlet on Thursday evenings. I remember amma. She is the best cook in all the world. Wish she were here..or atleast one of those mess akkas. Sniff. Sniff.

I remember every day on the way to work, how we’d rather take the bus from CBE Junction to Karunya than spend 50 bucks on a shared taxi, back from home after holidays, once in three months. Here, my everyday bus fare is around 110 rupees! BUS FARE. EVERYDAY. DUH!

That six rupees ‘kuchi chips’ from the canteen. How many times has it been my dinner. And lunch! I happened to see a similar thing in a kutty shop here. I was so excited. Wow! Kuchi chips!!
Me: Quanto custo é isso?
ShopKeeper : Dois reais e vinte centavos. Voce quer?
Me : *Mental calculation : Twenty six twos are Fifty two..plus some six rupees.. woof!*.
(Out Loud, with a stupid smile) Não, Obrigada.
*Instructing brain : I think it’s better to wait till I get home. Will buy 10 kuchi chips packets for the same amount*.

And well, honestly, nostalgic or not-so-algic, I am waiting to get back home.

Wanna Be a Centurion!

Waking up every day to “Is this what you want to do with life?” is rather irritating. Because I know the answer but I don`t know what to do about it. And probably, I cannot do anything. ‘Coz there is nothing at all I can do without affecting a soul outside of mine, other than cutting my hair. And that’s what I did. Cut it twice in 15 days!
I lazily brush my teeth wondering why I spent four years and a huge chunk of my parents’ money on something I would come to so loathe.
Fifty minutes of my one hour travel to work, I condemn myself for having landed in this binary mess.
Eight hours of work, and every 15 minutes, I bleep on God’s reminder how I would religiously perform my duties as a community service volunteer.
I return home still figuring if I can ‘rollback’ to 2005. So, perhaps, I could make a choice I wouldn’t regret five years later.
I don’t want to spend all my life serializing objects or calling remote procedures. To me, it’s not all that exciting. Really.
I wonder why I am resolving problems for rich wireless telecom giants when all I ever want in life is help distribute rations to people in refugee camps, who do not have food to eat. Let alone cellular phone facilities.
Yeah, all right. I already hear: ‘So, Go ahead. Who the heck is stopping you?’ But then.. I don’t know.. Don’t think it is as easy as it appears. I don’t really mind the risk, but people aren’t toenails to just clip away. I don’t want my decisions to affect anyone. (Anyone = Father, Mother and to a small extent, Sister). And I am loaded with questions, questions and more questions.
Charity begins at home? So, moving toward what I call charity, running over the shattered plans and hearts of folks at home is a mean thing to do, right? Can I go my own way, without even caring to offer a token of loyalty? Isn’t that what they call being ungrateful? Is it my right and an act of faith to “follow and live my dream” or does it come at the cost of a couple of broken hearts?
Aah, how I wish the arms that always held and comforted me were open now! Rhetoric wish! At present, there is this huge sign that reads “Very High Voltage. Do not dare”. :(
Lord, dear Lord, I don’t ask for understanding and I am not asking that you give me answers. I am just asking that you give me faith. Faith to believe, even when I don’t see. Faith like the Centurion’s.