Sunday, November 23, 2008

This Thing Called Mother...

Somebody told my mother about the things I write in this blog. She knows very little English having studied Portuguese, courtesy of Portuguese occupied Goa, and firmly believes computers are contraptions of satan. She had questions for me.

"Why do you sign yourself as a witch? Does everyone hate you? "
"I don’t know if they hate me mom, but anyway it was my choice. "
"You want to make yourself out as worse than you are. Why is that? "
"Hey, you’re echoing Daniel Defoe, Mom. "
"Don’t act clever with me Rozu, and stop calling yourself a witch. "
I’d rather be called a witch than ‘Rozu’ mom. Yuck, yuck, and YUCK.

"Why did you write all those wicked things about men? Giving people ideas, you’re a single woman. Do you know the bad things that can happen? "
"Yeah mom, and I can’t wait for them to start happening. "
"Stop that nonsense right now! "

"About that witch's brew you wrote? Are you a secret drinker?"
"No mummy I’m not. Just a sip or two sometimes…"
"That’s how it starts. First a sip, next thing you know, you’re an alcoholic. You stop that now." "Okay Mom."

"You wrote about the MNS. What if Raj Thackeray comes after you?"
"Mom why would he bother with me? He has the elections to worry about."
"That’s why. With the sort of name you’re making for yourself, you’ll be good publicity for him."

Finally, she asks suspiciously, “Who was that verse written to?”
Me, very casually: “Oh mom, just a computer geek.”
“What? A computer geek? My poor child, all computer geeks are emotionally disabled men. Keep away from them.”

(Out of the mouths of demented old women!!! )

The Witch’s Dilemma: I cannot upload photographs on my blog because my comp is so ancient it doesn’t have the thingamajig for doing that and also has several unspeakable other things wrong with it.
So should I, in these times of trial, buy a new PC or just pull along with the old one is the 40,000 rupee question.
My male friends despise me for even thinking I have a choice. The women, bless them, tell me to pull along, it’s not worth it. I go with the women. So, for now, no photographs.

The Last Word:
I met god again, this time watching Dostana (the movie about gays); and drooling into his popcorn, over John Abraham. (Guys, that frame where a bare-chested John comes out of the room, tugging up his short, short briefs is- yummmeeee!! Don’t miss it.)

“Hey god, where’s your ponytail?” I asked him.
“Hey yourself. Move with the times woman, ponytails are out, crew cut is back.”
He seemed affable, so I ventured, “Dear god, why do you let bad things happen to good people?
“Because good people are boring and I hate boring people. Now get lost,” he snapped. I got.

See guys, I was right. Be bad, be exciting, fly with the wicked witch, and prosper, thou beloved spawn of the devil.

Irreverently yours,

1 comment:

sanjukta said...

he he nice one. My mom is very new media savvy. It would be my dad to ask these exact questions to me... He is perpetually worried about the hate comments I get on Mutiny :)