I had just typed sometime back that the past week was super yucky, frustrating and nutted up.

And I finished typing my blog, something goes wrong and all that I typed vanishes... AAAAAAARRRgh

First my net conn at home doesnt work. The people at BSNL say technical problem. In the middle of work. And then I am unable to send the files. My writer stops at 58% and refuses to do more burning. And smoke came out of my ears. Couldnt send the files in time. Floppies didnt work. They must be using defective pieces now, since floppies dont sell all that much. And then I had to go do all the translation all over again. boo hoo... Too much driving. Yasaswini goes back monday. Dunno when I will get to see her next.

In between some nice things happened. Like last sunday, attended a Podcasting meet organise by none other than Kiruba. Spent some time there, decided I will put up some audio and video blogs soon. It will be better off for mom also to explain some stuff if its supported by audio.

Then caught two movies on two consecutive nights. Batman Begins and Chandramukhi. Sathyam Cinemas. And since it was Chandramukhi and since it was night show, some people seemed to more interested with what I was doing and with whom I was than watch the movie itself. And I had gone with mom and a friend. YUCKY. Hate my life sometimes. Cant do your own thing. No privacy and on the other hand mom worrying to bits about a lot of things. Gossip for one.

And this explains what? I can forget about usual life people have. Can't be seen with the same set of people especially if it has the same set of boys.. cant jump into the water and have a swim and not worry, cant just drive the way I want, eat the way I want, do things the way I want. Because the soceity is watching. The people are watching. And I am a girl. Why wasn't I a boy? Damn. And cant even have a normal fight with my mother. People are hearing people are watching. I cant forget about the usual gen gaps we are all said to have. And when mom does tell me that I dont practise enough and if she sounds louder, then people have to go tsk tsk.. hellllooooo its our life... why do we need to be judged by some peeping toms and hearing harrys? why do we have to live in constant fear of what will be written and said about us? And its becasue mom grilled me that I am who I am today. A diamond needs to be cut.. for the brilliance to emerge. And that doesnt happen without effort...! And NOPE. The mediocrity wont understand that. The damn soceity wont understand. Why because we are two women. It would have been good if I had been a son. I cant see guy friends outside home. I cant see them at home. Outside, then gossip, people will see. At home, then people will say too many boys coming home. They can forget we have been together at school, or at college or at work. Or the guy home can be someone who is working on my damn system which conks every three days. But no. Its a guy. Finito. Then watchmen will gab, servants will yap. Yeeearghh.

Airtel sends me a bill for some other phone number. My mom's name, our address but some other number. Disconnects my free sms facility without informing. Says due date to pay bill is 26th but decided to disconnect on 21st. One of numbers had been asked to be name transferred, with all documents provided, three months back. STILL not done..Does not give 200 mins of free local, 100 mins of STD free. Please someone help with Airtel, or I will get a nervous breakdown and mom says she will get a heart attack. Would it be a good idea to sue? On the grounds of mental trauma, cost of petrol and shoddy work to say the least? And CHECK out the fuel prices! Am gonna get myself a hand cart. Or a cycle rickshaw with a driver, ahem, cycler.

Had to go judge a school competition today at Vidya Mandir, Adyar. Hot and dustry as there was a make shift stage and Pandal on the school grounds. sigh.. anyway that was done. That school is goddamn lucky to have the english teacher I learnt from. Mrs. Uma Prabhakar.
She is a pretty small made lady, always wears crisp cottons, and scrispier in speech. Her classes used to be crackling with excitement. And she always had a way of nurturing the creativity in each child. My 9th and 10th Standards were with her. And That is an impressionable age. I owe a lot of my English language development to her. Sometimes if all of us were too loud, and if she was in the next classroom, all that she did was to just stand outside our class, and give us all a plain look. And then she will say something in the softest of voices, but clear enough for all of us to shut our traps and be quiet, while there were times when even rapping a wooden scale on benches or boards could not shut us all up.

Life in school was good. It was carefree. Happier. Then we all grow. Grow up to be what?

Big sigh.

The Italian concert. Thanks a lot for the link. Some songs are not there, surprisingly. My Bhajan is also missing. Sigh again. If I remember right, there were 18 or 19 items.

P.S. And where did I type this from?? Aditi's house.. My net conn is still under technical trouble...