Os kitties

My mom loves feeding stray cats and turning the house into a cat shelter. One kitty that she recently added to the fold has delivered babies. There's three of them and I think I'm gonna call them Heathcliff, Snowbell and Minerva in honour of the... namesakes. Ah, no, no Garfield coz I love him too much to name a white / grey cat after him.

So, Here.. If you care.

That'd be Snowbell

And, Minerva and Heathcliff huddled in the corner.

Liza Donnelly: Drawing upon humor for change | Video on TED.com

This was something I saw on TED and thought I had to do my part in spreading it around. Yeah, I know I get like 2 hits/week but still... MY PART.

Liza Donnelly: Drawing upon humor for change | Video on TED.com

Frivolously yours,

Frivolously yours, is going to be a section where I shall ramble shortly about random, stupid thoughts that vroom across the various lobes of my brain which, in real life, none of my friends would care to listen.  Wow! That is probably the longest sentence I have written in 23 years! My writing skills are picking up!!

- Borrowed from Jim, from The Office, and mean every word of it : Because right now, this is a job. If I advance any higher, this would be my career. And if this were my career, I'd have to throw myself in front of a train. 

- I really wish I would learn not to hate work this much. Really.

- Man, this haircut! With the hair in front falling over my eyes, dang, I feel like Hugh Grant!

You name it.

South Indian last names suck. Firstly because there is no concept of last names. Secondly, well, I can't think of anything. So drop that. So what we (huh!) modern South Indians do is use the husband / dad's second given name as our surname (though it sounds like a perfect first name).

I have always been scared of marrying someone with a horrible second given name which would ruin it all for me. Imagine! Mrs. Sharon Selladurai... Mrs. Sharon Jeyasekaran... Ew!

Is there some way I can keep this nightmare from coming to pass? Absolutely! There's this guy at my workplace, karthikeyan. And guess how he tells people to call him? No, not Karthik. Not even Karthi. It is 'Ke-yaan'. Yeah, the same way you would say K'Naan's name. Well, if Karthikeyan could change his horrible name to something as cool as that, Bring it on, folks!!

So what if I marry Thomas Arockiaraj?
This could well be a sentence I would hear often :
                                       Oh Hello there,  Mrs. Ockiar.

Or if it is one Sanjeev Duraisingh?
My son's teacher might just call out 'Leo Ben-Aising'.

Whoa! With such swell last names, I could even tell people my husband's great grandfather was on Schindler's list!

Way to go, self.. Way to go!

P.S : Do you think I am shallow? Then, either you have a cool last name already or you have such bad taste.

Singletude Sorrows

Chit is 44 (And trust me, She hardly looks half her 44 years). I am 23. We both can make a cover version of 'Y-O-U-N-G, F-R-Double E and and and single'. The one big difference between Chit and me is that she is the happiest single woman I have met in life, while I probably am the most griping single woman ever.

Chit never longs for Prince Charming to come galloping on a pink unicorn nor does she listen to Crying over you on repeat. When I ask her how she manages a balanced, non-whining single life, she says it's grace. Oh, no, no way. Chit doesn't Jesus juke. Ever. She has an awesome relationship with God and is almost half as sarcastically humorous as He. So that's absolutely no juke and she fully means it to be true and real.

I on the other hand, kick and scream and complain and sulk about my singletude. (Somebody appreciate my word building skills). I am tired of being single. I tell myself it is time I made the transition from Stuck on you to Gone on my playlist and perhaps choke on some apple and wait to hear horse hooves.

Or should I wait for an old lost love? Everytime I bring up Bruce in a conversation, BeyondMadness quotes Prov 26 : 11 - As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.  Maybe she is right, as always. Maybe in the process of clinging to the 'True love perseveres' principle, I am actually returning to vomit (Margin Notes: I pray I never have to write that inside **... EW!). Bruce is under the spell of the wicked witch of the north, and will probably take forever and a day to come back to right senses and me.

In other news, my parents and many relatives I had no idea existed before have concluded that I am of 'marriageable age' now. And that I need to marry ASAP and produce kids before I am 27 or my kids will all have Down's Syndrome! I mean, What on Earth!!

I don't want to marry now, people!! I want to be in love, not marriage! I don't wear eternity on my sleeve and so like all my sane friends advise, guess I need to leave the life and times of Bruce behind and live my own. But, live my own how? I can't seem to find anyone I could 'grow old with'! All those boat loads of love songs there and not a guy to sing one to me? All the people out there whose relationship status is committed and mine is still single? My Pa recharges my phone credit like once or twice a month... All my friends who have boyfriends get theirs recharged once every week... by their guys!

Maybe God hasn't given me the grace to pull through this singletude phase like He gave Chit? Well, God, if so... can you send a guy instead of grace?

P.S. :  Yet not my will, but Thine.

Gatumba Massacre

Someone I know was stationed in Congo, Africa with the UN Peace keeping force a few years back. He brought back pictures of the 2004 Gatumba camp massacre. Movies like blood diamond, Hotel Rwanda are under-statemental. These pictures are kinda disturbing...

I don't really know what to think. Hope all these souls find rest in Heaven above and for us, here, guess this is the best we can do - Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. (Ephesians 5:2)

Gentleness... evident, et al.

 If you care to know how irate and fussy I can get, join me when I commute to work by bus. I hate myself when I'm on a crowding bus. I hate everyone around me - the fat lady, the sweaty guy, the beardy old man, the wailing kid. Aaargh! I throw nasty looks at them when someone steps on my foot. I fix my face in an angry-irritated-ugly cast and constantly clench my teeth. I just hate all these people. Just hate them. Won't all these jerks be wiped away from the planet!!
 I was reading Philippians chapter four the other day. I like Paul a lot. Yeah, Paul of the hanky-apron-healing fame... My love for Paul didn't come through years of memory verse reciting in Sunday school. It was much like a tamil movie plot before the interval.  (In case you are dying of curiosity, this is how I came to love Paul )
 Am I digressing? Okay. So I was reading Philippians 4 and this one verse stared me on my face.
    Let your gentleness be evident to all... Phil 4:5

Does that mean I need to be nice and kind and smile-y to the dirty bloke who smells like a 100 tasmac shops? and to the lady who is lavishly sitting on her seat plus 3/4ths of mine?

Maybe Paul, and God, really mean the "evident to all" gentleness business... but maybe there are some reservations.. Maybe on crowding buses, maybe.