Humor Diary, 2022

Logs after #april30 will be posted as singular posts HERE.

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#march31 – Non-Monday Blues

I deserve a pat on my back already. It’s Thursday and the last day of March. What kind of lazy, high-on-procrastination girl starts a new assignment on an odd day? It should be a Monday. Okay, Monday is far away. But I could surely wait for 13 hours more. A humor launch on April Fool’s day. Could it get any more auspicious than that?

I have finally reached a conclusion. My subconscious decided today to be D-day because: March is my birthday month. I must celebrate it until the last day. After all, it’s not every month that you enter into your 30s, right?

#april1– April Fool’s Day

Did you know that some countries have official holidays for playing pranks? Our ancestors were such naive souls. They won’t even crack a joke without the government’s approval.

Most European countries celebrated 1st April as New Year’s Day. They were not wrong to do so.
3 quarters of January goes into correcting the year. If 31st December is just another day for you, then January is just another month. February is a breeze already. Plead the earth to slow down its merry-go-round, but Feb would still fly.
March is when it truly sinks in that this is a different year. All those threatening text messages directly from the government to rob your money and sue your innocent soul, shake you up wide awake.
If this isn’t enough, it’s also the time for your work review. Friends, colleagues, mentors, and seniors all transform into dementors. Everyone becomes a soul sucker in March & April. Once a cat meowed at me when I was already hyperventilating before a 1-on-1 with my manager.

Soul sucker catty.

So my point is, I don’t think people who used to celebrate New Year on April 1st were April fools. They were the most intelligent breed of homo sapiens.
Oh, and by the way, Happy April Fool’s Day. I hope you prank your manager into granting you a promotion and a 498% hike today.

#april3 – My withdrawal symptoms

In case you were worried about how my withdrawal symptoms are treating me, let me tell you- all’s not well. I can see everything through a filter of a sea. Everything blue. The poshly tiled floor feels like the soft sand of the Patnem beach. That leads to a serious brain disfunction- I trip on my own feet 117 times a day.

The city roads are so broad and yet there’s no ample space for me to drive my bike with one hand- using only the accelerator, while the other one dances to the beats of my favorite songs. I can’t cut through the wind blowing in my hair. Well okay, wind in hair comes at an expense of a hefty fine on my already punctured wallet. The Goa police won’t let you drive without a globe around your head. But in the city, there’s no wind at all to blow my hair.

Okay fine, I recede. I have chopped my hair too short to be windblown. (see pic above)

Pune city was sarcastic. She has become brutal now. She outright refused to provide me with a small beach.

The mind craves an occasional glass of those brain fuzzers, a smoke or two, and most desperately the beach sunsets. But things will be better, once I no longer trip over my own feet.

#april4– Second chance

Today is the first Monday of the new year as per India’s national civil calendar. So all those who have resorted to the usual guilt/procrastination path, STOP. Here’s your chance to start fresh. Give yourself an opportunity. Good people of this land, you deserve a second chance. A chance other countries’ calendars don’t give to their citizens.

In the last week of last Dec, you made a long list of resolutions to make 2022 the greatest year of your life. I know that. You even chalked out an ideal routine. You motivated yourself by watching all the Mohammed and Arnold Sch….rr videos of transformation. You were literally waiting for 1st Jan to come. But then you realized 1st Jan was a Saturday. An official bonus of 2 more days to procrastinate, self-loathe, and be lazy.

But you followed your Godly routine on Monday, 3rd Jan. Pat on the back. A perfectionist on the 4th of Jan. Another pat on the back. And then, that was that. Some didn’t get even a slight chance to pat their back. Ink and paper, math and calculation, all down the drain.

Huff… Don’t lie to me. It was a relief to surrender, I know.
No, I am not here to lecture you on how to make new year’s resolutions work. I don’t know that myself. Besides I was partying all December in Goa, not just the 31st. So I made no resolutions.
I am here to tell you that another new year has just started. It’s for those who couldn’t stick to their resolutions, the last time a new year started. (Indian) God has decided to have mercy on you. Dig through your scrolls, find that list of goals and resolutions and start over from today.
Just keep one thing in mind- this is your last chance to be a perfectionist this year. Else, you will have to wait for another December- just 8 more months to go.

#april5 – Lived!

Life is tough. For someone who is practically terrified of everything, it is tougher. I am talking about my today’s encounter with another living breed. But let me tell you, I showed great courage. I immerged victorious. I lived and let it live, too.

After the initial shock receded, I even wrote about it. But it is too long to be just a diary entry. I am scratching my shocked brain and awakening my nervous system to restart and think of a solution. Until then, laters…..

#april7 – Better Each Day?

I am jumping days in between in this humor diary. This is surprisingly not because of my laziness, procrastination, or any other bad habits that lazy girls born in the 90s have.

The reason is I am getting better at it. The diary entries which I initially plan to be just a couple of paragraphs easily stretch to 6-8 paras. Then they are too long to include on the fickle pages of a diary. They take the form of short stories and then I am left with no entry at all.

This has become a life-threatening issue for me, guys. If you have a solution, please tell me. I love ranting a few lines here.

#april10 – Secret of Energy

I don’t follow cricket. But I do follow memes. I heard Virat Kohli isn’t on his best game. I know exactly why. He doesn’t eat meat.

Last Sunday we had a get-together- my uncle’s fam and mine. If you come from a traditional Indian family, you know that a meat feast is the only way to show respect towards your guests. My mum’s parents once fed my dad eggplant for lunch (baingan ka bharta, to be specific). I grew up to 28 hearing that story of extreme dishonor.

So once our tummies were full with chicken,  we went on to discuss the daily idiosyncrasies. “We don’t eat a lot of meat. Hardly once in a month. Somedays the tongue simply rejects all vegetables”, my mum said.

On this, I heard something that made me abruptly stop pulling the thread out of my shirt and look up. A few neural wires of my brain froze. My aunt replied, “Oh, we HAVE to eat meat. We need to have a lot of strength to do those operations”.

My mind immediately carved a picture of a semi-conscious man lying on the operation table, whose broken bones are being adamant, dancing in front of my orthopedic uncle and aunt, resisting to be united again. They are sweating profusely, using all their meat-gained strength to stuff the broken bones inside a plaster.

Dear Virat, eat meat mate. Your shoulders carry the weight of 130 crore Indians’ expectations. A chicken or two would happily sacrifice for you.

#april11 – Peak 0 Day

Today is one of those days when the goddess of productivity has cursed me. Not a new thing. She curses me at least 3 times a week. I must have been the greatest sinner in my past life.

Yesterday night I was dreaming of having set my work table underwater. Judging by the waves, it was Palolem beach. That was a pretty theatrical dream for me to sleep soundly. In the middle of the night, I then discussed life problems with a nocturnal friend.

I got up late to a realization that in a fit of self-pity, I have cursed myself with a Netflix subscription. Damn. That realization scratched my to-do list entirely. I watched a film start then dozed off, got up when Andrew Garfield was locked up with Gwen Stacy in a room. The next thing I saw she was free falling. I woke up only to see the amazing spiderman sobbing.

I have slept all day but also watched 4 films back-to-back. Clearly, I have no plans to visit the bed now. My over-relaxed bones are ready to revolt if I go seeking the bed. If you are up, send me ice cream. Ping me your WhatsApp number. I’ll chat with strangers too, no problem.

Good night to those whose beds are calling them.

#april14 – Been there, Done that

“Do you know, the Himalayas stretch right from Kashmir to Bengal in the northeast? And there are pine trees, which have stooping leaves”, my mum said.  I decided to keep my modesty intact and just listened. Maybe she’s forgotten that I run to the Himalayas at every chance I get. “The air, the water there is pure beyond imagination”. “Yeah”, I agreed, sticking out my head from a book, acknowledging her curiosity despite her constant interruption.

Finally, when I realized that I am still on the same second-last para of Lone Fox Dancing, I decided to jog my mum’s memory a little bit.

I said, “mum do you remember that first trip you didn’t want me to go? And the 4 trips after that? You realized I wouldn’t listen so you finally gave up. I went to see exactly the same things that this Lord of storytel is telling you.”

Feels so good to be mean.

#april15 – Good Fridays

I have grown up watching friends have their newly activated hormones, supercharged on Fridays. Friday is the happiness eve, an onset of freedom. No school, no office. Adrenaline, thou shall be our king.

But Fridays have always stressed me out. The pressure to enjoy the next two golden days is simply too much. And if you waste them, your entire week is cursed. Sunday evening brings on such a tsunami of depression, that the entire world drowns in Monday morning yawns.

Instead, Mondays are so easy. There’s no pressure of being happy. Just go with the flow for 5 days straight. Happiness or sadness neither is your fault, nor your responsibility.

For years we have endured this pain of good Friday and Bad Monday. One day I decided, I won’t let the earth’s rotation business affect my happiness. I found a solution. I gave up my job.

So now I work all 7 days of the week. Weekends & holidays hold no power over me. Sometimes, (like today) I get up in the middle of the night and start typing like a zombie. But I am free from the excruciating pressure of having good weekends. Whether there will be food on my plate tonight, is utterly dependent on my whims, not on days of the week.

I saved myself.

As for today’s Good Friday, I always wondered – Jesus was crucified on this day, why is it called a ‘Good’ Friday? Now I get it. We are in denial.

#april19 – Clay Ice-creams

Yesterday we had a clay molding activity in school. I had to teach these human clays to make colorful, clay ice creams. Most children forgot to bring clay from their homes. Well, their parents forgot. But children haven’t learned the blame game yet.

They instead start a new activity of their own- teacher molding activity. They made sure, that I don’t ignore them just because they didn’t bring some colorful itchy mud from home.

So when I called out the handful of children with clay, everyone came ahead. Out of nowhere, a girl without clay said it’s her birthday after two days. Oh wow! I exclaimed. Realizing that they didn’t need to bring clay to seek my attention, the rest followed her lead. One boy said he celebrates his birthday on Thursday. He’s probably convinced every Thursday is his bday. Another one said, his mum had gone to buy a gift for his birthday tomorrow.

And here I am, thinking how these kids cooked stories so instantaneously, and with a straight face. ‘Meh, what’s clay molding. We have bigger things happening around. It’s our birthday. But you don’t see us making any fuss about it.’

Meanwhile, the kids with clay didn’t say a word. They had my attention by default. No security breach there.

“I don’t have the red-colored clay for the cherry on my ice cream,” was their only problem.

#april30 – Travel for a Cause

That’s it. I have to move out of this city. Pune has gone too hot now. It’s not worth to switch on two fans
for a small little girl sitting in one room. I know I wouldn’t need two fans if I was comfortable sitting in the middle of the room right under the fan. But corners are where I thrive. Sorry, can’t help.

Before my dad gets to know of this luxurious splurge, I need to find an alternative. Any moment now, he might barge into my room reminding me that I am not a daughter of King Midas to consume the air flow of 2 fans. There are people who have to fight for clean air. It simply isn’t fair that I spend Rs. 0.302 each hour on electricity.

So yes, I have finally found a real cause for my next travel. Not that I want to go on hikes, or meet new people, go back to nomadic life, watch the birds, the sun and breathe in the forest flavor. I travel for the greater good. I travel so that I don’t consume 0.0786 units of electricity and spend my dad’s hard earned Rs. 0.302 every sweaty hour of the day.

My next log will be from the mountains. No, my heart’s not dancing, my tummy isn’t rumbling. Why should that happen? After all, I am just saving money. Rs.0.302/hour, to be precise.

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