With the world turning into a global village we humans have adopted almost the same taste in clothing and adornments, but apparently, the Carefree ghosts still follow a different decorum.
Struggling with Slangs
I’m going to let out a little secret of mine-I’m not good with slangs. Call me old for my age, but I don’t really seem to get the hang of slangs. And don’t judge me just yet, for I have 500 more words to elucidate this fact before you kind readers.
The most overused urban slang word in the recent years has got to be swag. I initially perceived its meaning as ‘a very cool, smooth or flashy appearance’. Since then, I’ve seen it being used in every possible context. I, in my utter befuddlement, looked it up on the Online Slang Dictionary and found many other interpretations, such as ‘stuff we all get’, ‘secretly we are gay’ and some more, which will be inappropriate to mention here. Till now, I’m clueless about which one of them is the correct version. Needless to mention, I had to stop using this word.
Another such word is dope. I thought it’s a slang term for marijuana. Then I heard people using it like “it’s simply dope!”, what is that supposed to imply. Such confusions are the reason I’m unable to get accustomed to the slang usages. The struggle my friend, is real. (One version of dope was extensively popular in my college-Department of Production Engineering).
Let’s talk about totes. We all know totes are beach bags. Now when someone says, “that’s totes cool!”, I feel as if I’ve been jinxed under a confundus charm( HP fan, anyone?). Because, in my mind it reaches as ‘that’s beach bag cool’. Though I’ve been told that totes is the short form of the word totally, but I’m just not comfortable with the number of saved milliseconds upon using a two-letter-short substitute. It might sound ridiculous to you but trust me, it happens.
If urban slangs are capable of evoking a pandemonium, internet slangs are no better. Take the term ftw for instance. People seem to be coming up with all sorts of expansion for this acronym. For the win (I believe it to be the most accurate one), f*** the world and whatnot. Ergo, I too have decided to go ahead and create my own version. How about fight the wizard, sounds cool right? Let’s get it trending guys.
Also, think about the acronym smh. Does it stand for so much hate or shaking my head, who can tell? When I ponder over what could possibly be the appropriate meaning, all that goes on in the back of my head is kmn (kill me now). Alas! When I had started using terms like ‘r8’ or ‘c u l8r’ in my school days, I had no idea that the slang domain will grow up to be so complicated and problematical. How the world changes!
I hope now you’re able to understand the reason behind the topsy-turvydom in my head regarding slangs. Thank you for sympathizing or relating with me. Peace out! (Not bad with all slang words, you see 😉 )
Life of a Nokia 3360
The year was 2002. It was a bright sunny day when I first opened my eyes in the quality check section of a manufacturing facility in Denmark. The employee named Mark, beamed at me when my monochrome screen blinked and the digital clock flashed. Then I was packed in a beautiful carton box and shipped to India in a cargo ship with my thousands of brothers. I still remember the smell of the carton box, my first home. I peeped from the edge of my box to have a look around while my brothers were having a slumber party. The sight of infinite stretch of blue water was overwhelming. I’m having quite the journey of my life, I thought. Little did I know that the real adventure lied ahead.
I spent a brief time in a warehouse in Mumbai and then in a mobile phone outlet in Pune. My spell in the shop came to a closure when a debonair gentleman bought me. I was the first mobile phone in their house! The poor old landline phone got jealous of me, and why not, I was quite on demand those days. The gentleman used to take me to work everyday. I’ll watch him count a lot of currency notes with a smiling old man’s picture on it. At the end of the day when he returned home, the little girl Nori used to play games on me. She was a lovely child. She’ll laugh and jump with joy every time she achieved a high score in the Snake game. That game was a hoot and a half, unlike the Temple Run and Angry Birds nowadays. You know what they say, vintage indeed is gold.
My monopoly in the house came to an end when Nori’s elder brother got her father a new shiny phone with a big colourful screen and very few buttons. I could tell from the mere appearance that it was a supercilious one. The first time we sat together while getting charged, I tried to make a conversation but got condescending looks instead. It’s okay, I told myself, sometimes we just have to let things go and let karma take care of it. A few months after that incident, the new one fell from the table top and got its screen shattered. Kids these days, they’re not half as tough as us I tell you.
As the replacement for the broken phone, the gentleman bought a Lumia phone, my little brother! I was ecstatic perceiving the advancement my parent company had made. I now got to spend more time at home while my brother went around with the gentleman. It was a comfortable arrangement if you ask me. Nori had grown older and she used to immerse herself in a pile of huge books, so there were no more of gaming sessions. I got a plenty of time to observe and introspect. It’s from there I derive all my wisdom.
My days were rolling pretty smooth until that fateful night. Nori’s family was robbed at night when they were away. That demon of a man stuffed me in a canvas pack and smuggled me over several states. The next I saw daylight, it was in a thrift shop in the capital city Delhi. My ego was severely bruised when the shop owner put a tag of’ Rs300/-‘ in front of me. I mean, even if I’m old and worn-out now, I’ll be more durable than half the phones out there. Weeks passed with me on the show, but despite all his efforts I attracted no buyer. Out of frustration, he threw me in a garbage can.
Now as I lay in a steel box labelled ‘Recyclable electronic waste’, waiting for my body to be fragmented into pieces, I can’t help but reminisce the old days. From ruling the mobile handset universe to becoming the subject of countless jokes, I’ve seen it all. I’ve led a long satisfying life with almost nothing to regret. And to my progeny (the one who’ll have my electronic parts embedded in it),if you ever get to read it, I have a few words to say-“It’s a jungle out there, son. Be brave in the world.”
Summers are overrated. Whoever wrote the lines “A lovely day! Yet many such, Each like to each, this month have passed” about a summer day must be a very wise person, but I’ll go ahead and say that my encounters with this season have been nothing close to “lovely”. If you’ve lived in any of the tropical countries you’ll know what I am talking about. I don’t comprehend how summers are worth writing poetry. Spring or rainy season perhaps, but summers? I don’t really buy it. Summers in my part of the world are like being in a hot-pot at 45°C, the heat crawling inside and you perspire like there is no end to it.
The best way to beat the heat is to stay in close proximity to one of the greatest human inventions, air conditioners or ACs, as we call them in our day-to-day life. Back in my college days, we didn’t have the luxury of air-conditioned rooms. The common rooms, however had ACs installed in them. Totally understandable why they used to become a sanctuary for the entire hostel populace during the hours of sleep. This is just a simple example; the hunt for ACs goes up to many levels transcending the boundaries of money and rationality. For instance,
- Those who don’t like to be in close contact with books unless it’s for passing an exam spending some quality time in libraries, only because they are air-conditioned.
- People who are utterly uninterested in movies and their familiarity of Hollywood is limited to knowing Leonardo Dicaprio, going to a movie theatre screening Zoolander 2, because “Dude, at least they have AC!”.
- (Window) shopping in a mall even if you don’t really need anything. Is it a big price to pay for soothing your sun-scorched epidermis? Certainly not.
- Barging in restaurants at odd hours and taking your own sweet time to decide orders. This way, buying more time to savour the gentle air-conditioned environment. How shrewd!
Even if I’m not much of a summer aficionado some people actually are, like the health columnists of newspapers and magazines. Years may roll away and eons may pass, but the content of health column in summers will remain the same (They’re not to be blamed though, staying hydrated is indeed a big deal). Real holidaying for them! In a similar way, summers are very fruitful for many a business sectors. With the increasing intensity of sunrays come the incessant trepidations of getting tanned and the companies oblige by launching whole new ranges of cosmetics. Same goes for countless other products which are otherwise useless in rest of the seasons. The fuming summer-clouds have got a few silver linings after all.
There there, I was just being nice. Summer days are dreadful and the fact remains thus. Winters are not all that great either, but at least you can stuff yourself with warm clothes to feel at home. So the next time you’re cursing the chilly winds in the month of December, just remember that a day can get worse. Think about it.
An Open Letter to the Poor-Joke Spammers Out There
I hold no particular animosity towards you. You might be one amongst my dear ones but when you say “hi guys” to a herd of cows passing by; I clench my fists tight and deploy all the self-control I have to stop myself from punching you. I know you have this natural inclination of playing with phonetics and word-roots, but that makes your audience feel like killing themselves, traumatized by the hurricane of mixed emotions evoked by your deadly words. I, therefore, have decided to raise my voice against this vicious malpractice.
The increase in number of people who humor themselves by cracking Lame or Poor Jokes (PJs) is alarming. As a matter of fact, you are everywhere.Every friends group in every college in this country has a person who tortures the rest by his/her brutal jokes.If this rate continues then that day is no longer far when good humor will become extinct on this planet.
Sure you’re funny (sometimes) and witty, but you’re a million other things too, most of which are synonymous to the word cruel. One day,out of curiosity I asked you why this lame-joke cult is spreading like a wildfire, you quoted growing mutilation cases in the ‘Joke Realm’ as the reason. In my exasperated frustration, I blurted “It’s so not cool, if you have anything against me then you should just say it”, you said without a moment’s lapse,” it”. I died a little inside that day.
Why, just why you have to opt for a degraded form of humor to amuse yourself when so many classic fortes still exist! We all love Chandler Bing for his spot-on sarcasm and Sheldon Cooper for his on-your-face wisecracks. We’re even fond of Bart Baker’s parodies and Russell Peters’s satires despite his racial slurs. So please oh please, take an inspiration from those good people and adopt a different type of humor for your kind indulgence.
I speak for the whole agonized recipient fraternity when I say “No thank you, you’ve got to stop”.
Disclaimer: This post is to be taken as a light-hearted quip and not intended to hurt any individual sentiment. Thank you for reading!