OOSOOM Theory:

There are talks about how reality is that men are deeper than women. But I really can never tell. Today I understand that , there is a small difference between rumours , reality and myths. Men are heartless. They religiously follow the OOSOOM methodology that is preached in many of their movies and by their imaginary friends. The “Out Of Sight,Out Of Mind” methodology ,is something that gives me insomnia. We women always foresee the worst and act accordingly. But men call us pessimists while they act very optimistic and goof it all up.
Is long sight in a relationship really a shortcoming? I really don't understand. Over lunch today I discovered a very upsetting quality in men. While women celebrate happiness by going out, men mourn over a spread of food! What a difference! So ultimately we see men as creatures that celebrate with their girls by going places and chatting over food and at the same time mourn over lost love across a table with their friends. What does this make them? Happy creatures? No. No gender in any species can live a life without any distinction between good moods and bad moods. How can happy=happy and also upset=happy!?!
I think, they are just a bunch of idiots , who cannot make up their minds about what they want in life. How can a man eat in peace and laugh around his friends when he is supposed to be upset about an angry/hurt girlfriend. This is an atrocious trait in men, that naïve women like me see after all fights are solved and peace is made. I am still trying to differentiate their cheesy declarations of happiness around their women to their depressing claims of watering eyes.
As far as OOSOOM theory is concerned, men forget their nagging(I accept) yet more trustworthy girlfriends as long as they are around their friends with boundless freedom and no interrogative phone calls. Sad is the fact that in comparison to these happy creatures, women brood, cry, curse or write(like me) about it, till one of the following things happen. Firstly , some other hot man asks them out or secondly, they fall asleep. Women : Simple creatures that extremely misunderstood throughout the planet! Finally, with respect to the most retarded species called men,I would like to alert every woman on this planet . When a man says he is happy, he is really happy and when he says he is upset , he is still happy(With Plan B with his friends on his mind!). Which implies , a happy happy =an upset happy== ALWAYS HAPPY!!

Talking Protocols...

It is funny the way we use language as a mode of communication. Is that the only way to communicate I wondered...? There are so many many many things we say to our people, following which we have to explain it in detail. Are there some kinds of universal thinking codes? When I say “Blue” , the other person may find it “Green”. In such cases , is it easy to make the other person see your way? I was talking to a friend of mine today and explaining something about college times. I said “In my college there were hardly any good looking guys who were my friends”. My friend said “Oh really? Which college are you talking about?”. I wondered how many colleges I had studied in. The answer was two, so I was patient enough to tell him that when I said college it really meant the final college I passed out of and old college was the previous college I had studied in.
I felt at that instant as if I was laying a set of protocols for my speech. Was it real? Was I really trying to build a telepathic connection with my friend? I was sure every relationship built between two people sees a day like this. Setting communication protocols. Similarly I've always had problems understanding his house issues. He constantly spoke about the house he had bought recently to be his house and also called the one he was living in to be his house. What would a normal human being do to distinguish such things in life? I made him sit down and told him to refer to the house he is living in as, his house and the new one as his apartment.
This becomes most intriguing when, somebody is talking with passion and interrupting them becomes the last thing in the agenda. In such cases, I fully recommend the laying down of protocols at least with the few people that one constantly talks to. I can see now that life is all about protocols- to be set and to be followed. Even in basic things such as communication.

When I was born...

I have lived 22 years when this December 31st comes. Thinking about my birth does not make me wonder how my 0th birthday might have been but instead, upsets me because nobody remembers anything of their birth. What we hear from people who may have been present on that day is all we imagine our birth to be. Similarly, what I account for here, is what I know of my birth from cumulative collections made over these 22 years.
A strikingly beautiful muslim woman in her late 20's sat down to have her mid day snack at about 11:30 am, in her small but well kept little house in the outskirts of Madras. Pregnant after 5 years of her marriage to a handsome Bengali hindu, the last thing she imagined was being unable to finish her snack. Half way done with the couple of idlis she felt a pang of pain in her lower stomach. Confusing it was because she felt like she had to use the toilet but little did she know that my house inside her stomach had just crashed leaving me breathless.

Rushed to the the nearest hospital, my mother realized that there was a possibility that I was gasping for air. The doctor immediately called for an operation..to rip open my little home inside her big tummy. The moment was captured,. My birth: 02:26 pm on that terrific Thursday. I heard I was pink in color and quite a big baby. Curly locks of hair fell all over my face and my eyes were nice and round. Little did I know, that on that day my LIFE started. I did not have a history that I remembered of nor did I have friends from the past.

A clean slate ,with my life , for me to write was presented before me. Thinking about the order in which I first saw humans, I guess it must be, the doctor with her big glasses, the nurse forcing me to shut up and bathe, my artist uncle who held me first to sketch me and my dad , who I'm sure felt stupid because he was second to hold me. He had not an idea about who he was holding. The brat named Aparna Parbati Ghosh!!!