Hello, everyone :) As the more perceptive of you may have realized, the last post was a bit of a departure from the norm. Fact is, I've always wanted to try writing a web series, and the Tale of Redbird seems as good a place to start as any. I hope you liked it, and the next edition of the story will be up by next Sunday or whenever I feel inspired to write again.
I really have very little to write about today, as I am doing nothing at this point in my life except siting at home and staring blankly at my books. The sun's gift, melanin, is slowly draining from my skin and I'm becoming pale and sickly-looking. And, since I have absolutely no exercise except lifting my enormous textbooks, I'm also getting chubby. Sigh.
Don't get me wrong. Study holidays have their benefits. For one thing, I can spend the entire day in my pajamas with my hair in an unflattering ponytail and nobody freaking cares. The diligent student look is very low maintenance- the only time I bathe nowadays is either when I have to go out somewhere or when the fumes rising from my unwashed skin start melting the low-density plastic objects in our house. Also, in our South Indian family system, anybody who's studying is a top priority, first class citizen.
(When I'm not studying): Ma, can I have a glass of water?
Mum: Do I look like your servant? Get up and get it yourself, you lazy fool!
(When I'm studying): Ma, can I have a glass of water?
Mum: Of course, darling, still or sparkling?
Me: Mum, Abi's breathing is disturbing my Physics.
Mum: ABIGAIL, STOP BREATHING. Can't you see your sister's studying?
Me: Can you feed me?
Mum: Do I have nothing better to do? Am I an unpaid servant in this house? Feed yourself.
Ah, well. It was worth a shot.
One of my Mum's few eccentricities is her attitude towards toothpaste. In many other respects,she is a very reasonable person, but there is a slight streak of insanity in her when it comes to toothpaste. She absolutely refuses to throw the tube away until every last drop of flouride-infused goodness has been squeezed out by means of blood, tears and elbow-grease. One morning, when I just couldn't get any more from the dry shell of the toothpaste tube, I walked to the dustbin and announced, determinedly, that I was going to throw the toothpaste out.
She flew out of her room like she had wings, took the toothpaste from me and, after around fifteen minutes of slightly demented squeezing, she pushed a minuscule glop on to my brush.
"There," she said triumphantly, in Malayalam, which made it a lot funnier. "And you wanted to throw it away."
Have a very good Monday, everybody! If you're feeling overwhelmed by something, remember that the world is actually very big, and you're actually very small and unimportant. Hope that helped.
P. S.: Shout out to my readers in America, Poland and Germany. Thank you for reading!
P. P. S. I'm thinking of cutting all my hair off! This is a madness that comes occasionally on me and it always ends in sorrow and destruction. Please, please, someone, convince me otherwise.
I really have very little to write about today, as I am doing nothing at this point in my life except siting at home and staring blankly at my books. The sun's gift, melanin, is slowly draining from my skin and I'm becoming pale and sickly-looking. And, since I have absolutely no exercise except lifting my enormous textbooks, I'm also getting chubby. Sigh.
Don't get me wrong. Study holidays have their benefits. For one thing, I can spend the entire day in my pajamas with my hair in an unflattering ponytail and nobody freaking cares. The diligent student look is very low maintenance- the only time I bathe nowadays is either when I have to go out somewhere or when the fumes rising from my unwashed skin start melting the low-density plastic objects in our house. Also, in our South Indian family system, anybody who's studying is a top priority, first class citizen.
(When I'm not studying): Ma, can I have a glass of water?
Mum: Do I look like your servant? Get up and get it yourself, you lazy fool!
(When I'm studying): Ma, can I have a glass of water?
Mum: Of course, darling, still or sparkling?
Me: Mum, Abi's breathing is disturbing my Physics.
Mum: ABIGAIL, STOP BREATHING. Can't you see your sister's studying?
Me: Can you feed me?
Mum: Do I have nothing better to do? Am I an unpaid servant in this house? Feed yourself.
Ah, well. It was worth a shot.
One of my Mum's few eccentricities is her attitude towards toothpaste. In many other respects,she is a very reasonable person, but there is a slight streak of insanity in her when it comes to toothpaste. She absolutely refuses to throw the tube away until every last drop of flouride-infused goodness has been squeezed out by means of blood, tears and elbow-grease. One morning, when I just couldn't get any more from the dry shell of the toothpaste tube, I walked to the dustbin and announced, determinedly, that I was going to throw the toothpaste out.
She flew out of her room like she had wings, took the toothpaste from me and, after around fifteen minutes of slightly demented squeezing, she pushed a minuscule glop on to my brush.
"There," she said triumphantly, in Malayalam, which made it a lot funnier. "And you wanted to throw it away."
Have a very good Monday, everybody! If you're feeling overwhelmed by something, remember that the world is actually very big, and you're actually very small and unimportant. Hope that helped.
P. S.: Shout out to my readers in America, Poland and Germany. Thank you for reading!
P. P. S. I'm thinking of cutting all my hair off! This is a madness that comes occasionally on me and it always ends in sorrow and destruction. Please, please, someone, convince me otherwise.
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