I dreamed of a very funny conversation last night. And thought, well, that's what I can post on my blog tomorrow. It's been long since I posted. Glad I've finally got something to say.
In the morning, I'd forgotten the funny conversation.
Well, here it is anyway.
What? ... Yes, that's it.
This reminded me of a dear friend, now ensconced in UK, who endeared herself to me forever, when we were kids, with her vagueness.
One morning, in the college canteen, she disrupted an ongoing conversation in characteristic style to say, "Did you read that funny news about that man in the paper today?"
"No, which man?"
"Don't know. Forgot his name. But he did something very funny."
Pause.
"What?"
"Don't know. Can't remember. But it was funny."
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
close encounter with educator types
it all started one sultry morning when child unit left english textbook behind. i was clearing up, and casually opened to lesson one:
The Boy Who Served His Tribe
Long, long ago, there was a family of the Chippewa tribe, who lived in a wigwam in the woods of North America.
(although i barfed upon seeing the heading style, i settled down to read. i like stories of long long time ago...oh whaat? a family of the Chippewa tribe? i thought the word 'tribe' meant lots of families living together in a cluster of wigwams. maybe i had become old, and this was meant for grade five kids. so i read on...)
Mother and father, brother and sisters were all very happy and contented, for they loved the good things of the Earth. They loved the sunshine, the forests and the cool springs of water. But they were often cold and hungry, for at this time, the Chippewa people did not know about growing corn. Instead, they lived only by hunting.
Now, when the boys of this tribe reached the age of fourteen, it was the custom for them to go into some lonely place, without food, so that they could be alone for several days and think about the life which lay ahead of them.
The time came for the eldest son of the family to carry out this custom
'Come with me, my son,' said his father. The two of them walked far out into the woods together. There the father built a little wigwam for his son.
'You will be here for seven days without food,' he told the boy. 'At the end of that time, I will return for you and bring you food. While you are here, you should pray to the Great Spirit that he will send you a gift; a gift for the whole tribe.'
Left alone, the boy sat for a while, and thought. What should he pray for during the week's fast?
Perhaps he should pray that his tribe would win glory in battle. Or should he pray that they should enjoy good hunting, or be sent great wealth?
'No,' he thought. He would ask only that life for his tribe be made less hard. And so he began to pray to the Great Spirit.",
___________________________________________
i know instinctively that something is wrong here. grammatically, that is, but it has been years since i looked up anything in Wren & Martin.
so i look at rewriting the page. it looks something like this:
Long, long ago, in the woods of North America, there lived a family of the Chippewa tribe.They built wigwams to live in and were happy and contented, loving the good things of the Earth. They loved the sunshine, the forests, and the cool springs. But the Chippewa people often went hungry because they did not know how to grow corn or wheat for food, they lived only by hunting.
It was a custom among the Chippewa to send the boys who had just turned fourteen, to the lonely place for seven days, so that they could fast and pray to the Great Spirit, and learn to face the harsh life ahead of them.
It was time for the eldest son of this family to carry out this tradition. His father took him to the forest, built him a little wigwam, and told him what he was to do.
"You are to stay here, my son," he told the boy. "Pray to the Great Spirit, and ask him to bless our tribe. After seven days I shall come back for you with food."
____________________________________________
now that i was reading, i thought i should figure out what was wrong with the text. here are some of my thoughts.
1) The story has been written in a script format, a style meant for a story-teller to learn, so that the tale could be told, rather than read. There is a vast difference between a story written for reading and one written for reading aloud. For example, the alliterative use of 'life that lay ahead', on the face of it, there is nothing wrong grammatically, but this is wasted because it is wordy; 'life ahead' is just as meaningful.
2) Grammar check: the word 'life' is a singular noun, it conflicts with the verb 'lay'.
3) The story plays havoc with the tenses. The usage words 'at this time' is 'current' which conflicts the story that begins with 'long long time ago there WAS...'
Also I shuddered to read: 'for at this time, they did not know about growing corn'. To place 'at this time' which implies present tense, with 'did not know', which is past perfect (as it implies knowledge from the past), with 'about growing corn' which is present continuous tense, and everyone knows that there is no such thing is present continuous.
4) Americanisms abound! I understand that this is an American story, but it is poor use of language indeed to say 'about growing corn' instead of simply saying 'how to grow corn' which would also make the tense correct.
5) Similarly, the usage of the word 'custom'. Customs are followed, traditions are carried out.
6) The use of single quotes is prevalent now, but it is NOT acceptable when you are teaching children grammar.
This is but the beginning of the story...
___________________________________________
i was aghast. who is this Nicholas Horsburgh, and why is Oxford Reading Circle (book 5) prescribed reading for fifth graders? child unit had been through Harry Potter books. why was the school dumbing down their reading?
i went to the next few stories, just to assure myself that it was just my imagination...
for your reading pleasure, here are the next few stories. correction. the beginning few paragraphs of the next few stories:
_____________________________________________
The boy with an answer
Raman was a bright boy, but he was also very mischievous. He lived many years ago in a small village in the kingdom of Vijaynagaram in South India. Since he was an only child, his mother loved him very dearly. You could say that he was pampered too much and became a spoilt child. But Raman had a quick wit and this helped him to make friends and get along in life.
At that time, the ruler of the kingdom of Vijaynagaram was a mighty king called Krishna Deva Raya. He was a fine and powerful ruler, and at his court there were many famous musicians, artists, and other wise and skilful people.
Raman lived in a small village called Tenali. There was a school in the village, but Raman's mother thought that the other boys at school would harm her dear little boy. So she did not go to school. And that suited him fine! He would wander about all day, and be cheeky to whoever he liked! Of course, not being at school made Raman quite lazy.
_____________________________________________
Nicholas Horsburgh has never heard of structure, obviously. the story is going all over the place.
It goes backwards and forwards. It does not even begin in the traditional way, as in: 'Long long time ago' or 'Once upon a time'...The village is mentioned, but not its name. The name of the village comes in the third paragraph. The kingdom of Vijaynagaram is mentioned twice, the name of the king comes in the second paragraph.
The story sends confusing signals about Raman: he is bright, but mischievous; he is loved dearly, but is pampered and spoilt; he wanders about all day, but is lazy; he is cheeky but as the first statement says, he was bright.
Moreover, how is this statement true: Not being at school made Raman lazy? I think not going to school makes children stupid, not lazy.
Amar Chitra Katha on Tenali Raman has this very same story. And it has been better told.
_____________________________________________
The poet and the jester
Raman grew up and did become a famous poet. His name was spread far and wide and his friends often told him to go to the court of the king, Krishna Deva Raya, to seek a job there. The king would pay him well and look after him because that is exactly what the king used to do. In his court there were many wise and skilful people and they were all looked after well.
Raman, or Tenali Raman, as he was now known as, thought that this was a great idea. However, he did not know how he could get into the court of the king.
Then, one day. A man called Tathachari, who was very close to the king, came to a place near Tenali. Raman's friends told Raman about this man.
...
Raman thanked Tathachari most gratefully.
_________________________________________
Help me out here, people!
Shouldn't each story in the book be able to stand on its own? Even if it is a second story about Tenali Raman. What sort of introduction is this!
The usage if 'did'.' Raman grew up to be a famous poet' is a good enough sentence. The moment the verb 'did' is added, i am forced to ask, "Was there a doubt that he would not be a famous poet upon growing up?"
The word famous implies well-known. You do not need to say 'name was spread far and wide'. Besides, saying 'name was spread far and wide is as colloquial as 'what is your good name'
'This is exactly what the king used to do'?! I would be shocked if you asked me what was wrong with the sentence.
And exactly what kind of English is 'as he was now known as'? Or 'came to a place near Tenali'? or Raman thanked him most gratefully'?
_____________________________________________
The toad's warts
From time to time, we all ask the question 'why?': Why is the sky blue? Why are leaves green? Why do people grow old and die? Why does the Sun shine? Why this? Why that? Why the other?
Some of you may have wondered why the back of a toad is covered with warts. Well, your question will be answered, in this folk tale from Myanmar...
_____________________________________________
oh mah deah gawd! this is an introduction to a story? what is the need for this introduction? Could the story simply start by saying: Here is an amusing little tale from Myanmar?
so you have an Introductory paragraph. it begins by addressing the story to 'we', and it changes to 'you' in the second paragraph.
but i had lost it. no longer did the rain make me want to snuggle up and read. it made me want to get a hold of nicholas horsburgh and punish him with paper cuts. but there was a niggling doubt, so i turned to the beginning of the book, where the editor signs his name to the introduction.
That is when i felt that 'death by paper cut' was too lax a punishment.
The Introduction of the book itself was not without errors. It promised that the book will encourage the pupils to 'delve deeper into the glorious world of English literature'. I would be surprised if the children want to read anything at all after this travesty of what is praised to be a carefully chosen 'treasure trove of stories'.
The stories have 'Value based themes'? Please read the Tenali Raman story where it is implied that you could be cheeky and lazy and pampered and spoilt but you could grow up to be famous poet!
The same section says: Vocabulary and structures have been controlled throughout.'
'Structures'?
Enough said.
so i counted to ten and then wore out the living room carpet down to threadbare.
(drumroll!)
i decided i was going to be a proactive parent. so i googled Oxford University Press (http://www.oup.com/) and hit the 'contact us' button, without barfing at the profound promises they make on their landing page.
i wasn't sure, such a big publishing company was ever going to answer, so i wrote to the principal of the school and the curriculum director (yes! such creatures exist these days!). someone was bound to take responsibility!
i complained:
Dear Sir/Madam,
The Oxford Reading Circle (book 5) is riddled with errors in grammar as well as usage of the English language.
It's a pity that the mistakes begin with the introduction to the book itself.
Since the book is prescribed by the government, I can only begin by registering a protest with you. However, you can be assured that unless you tell me how the mistakes will be rectified (and before this academic session is over), I would be forced to make the glaring errors public.
disappointed parent,
Manisha Lakhe
_____________________________________________
i received mail in the next two days! and that too from lord panjandrum himself!
_____________________________________________
On 7/13/07 (email address) wrote:
This is in reference to your complaint regarding Oxford Reading Circle. Our editors will revert to you in due course.
Ranjan Kaul
Publishing Director
Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel
the mail was addressed to yours truly and a lady called Sutapa"
_____________________________________________
i decided to be helpful, and send the whole bunch of queries and comments to both Ranjan Kaul and Sutapa Basu. they were prompt as before. i thought it was time to believe. there was a god.
_____________________________________________
Dear Manisha Lakhe,
Thank you for your mail, which I will share with our editors and author. As of now, I would like to only mention that Oxford Reading Circle is a literature course, where the attempt is to retain the orginal writings of the respective authors. It is not a language course. At the same time, I do understand your concerns, and will try to send you a detailed reply once we have examined your mail in detail.
Do bear with us till then.
Ranjan
Ranjan Kaul
Educational and Higher Education
Publishing Director
Oxford University Press
1st Floor, YMCA Library Building
Jai Singh Road
New Delhi 1100 01 India
(tel. no)
( fax)
( email)
_____________________________________________
hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
literature has got nothing to do with language?
please note his title. will someone explain to me what is 'educational and higher education'?
i wrote to my school principal and the curriculum director, who hid behind corporate waffle that said something like: the education ministry suggests 100 text books and we just chose the most reputable publisher, but in ten pages. (that is another story!)
_____________________________________________
dear lina, vandana and all you marvelous friends who have supported me in my quest for bringing a positive change in the way English is taught.
please read this mail i received from Oxofrd Univ. Press.
i have been hugely amused and aghast at the same time. did not know that using a language had nothing to do with literature. but rest assured i shall persuade this to the bitter end. if not my son, then some other child will benefit next year.
regards,
manisha
_____________________________________________
Lina Asher and Ms.Vandana are smart cookies. they knew they had run into a 'mad mommy force'. they promptly had the book removed from the curriculum and the kids started on something called Wisdom of Words. i have not dared to touch the new book.
but Oxford University Press obviously had not heard of my triumph at school. this is next exchange of email:
_____________________________________________
"Kumar, Neetu"
to me
Jul 20
Dear Ms Lakhe
This is further to Ranjan Kaul’s email to you. We have discussed your suggestions with our editors and the author. As indicated to you earlier, since this is a Literature Reader series, a conscious attempt has been made to expose learners to a variety of language styles including “Americanisms”. In this it is possible that a few styles used may not find favour with a section of readers but many of the stories used are by well-known writers and have been enjoyed by children the world over. It is for this reason that they have been included.
At the same time, we welcome all constructive criticism and it is our constant endeavour to make improvements. Where possible, your suggestions will be taken on board in the next revision.
In the meanwhile, we would appreciate if you can send us a list of glaring grammatical errors at your convenience.
We thank you for your interest in the series.
With best wishes
Neetu Kumar
Neetu Kumar
Publishing Editor-ELT
Oxford University Press
YMCA Library Building
Jai Singh Road
New Delhi 110001
India
(telephone)
(fax)
(e-mail)
_____________________________________________
it was bad enough that politicians were changing history text books to suit their own agenda. but now publishers want parents to play vigilante and help edit text books? whose job is it anyway?
_____________________________________________
The Boy Who Served His Tribe
Long, long ago, there was a family of the Chippewa tribe, who lived in a wigwam in the woods of North America.
(although i barfed upon seeing the heading style, i settled down to read. i like stories of long long time ago...oh whaat? a family of the Chippewa tribe? i thought the word 'tribe' meant lots of families living together in a cluster of wigwams. maybe i had become old, and this was meant for grade five kids. so i read on...)
Mother and father, brother and sisters were all very happy and contented, for they loved the good things of the Earth. They loved the sunshine, the forests and the cool springs of water. But they were often cold and hungry, for at this time, the Chippewa people did not know about growing corn. Instead, they lived only by hunting.
Now, when the boys of this tribe reached the age of fourteen, it was the custom for them to go into some lonely place, without food, so that they could be alone for several days and think about the life which lay ahead of them.
The time came for the eldest son of the family to carry out this custom
'Come with me, my son,' said his father. The two of them walked far out into the woods together. There the father built a little wigwam for his son.
'You will be here for seven days without food,' he told the boy. 'At the end of that time, I will return for you and bring you food. While you are here, you should pray to the Great Spirit that he will send you a gift; a gift for the whole tribe.'
Left alone, the boy sat for a while, and thought. What should he pray for during the week's fast?
Perhaps he should pray that his tribe would win glory in battle. Or should he pray that they should enjoy good hunting, or be sent great wealth?
'No,' he thought. He would ask only that life for his tribe be made less hard. And so he began to pray to the Great Spirit.",
___________________________________________
i know instinctively that something is wrong here. grammatically, that is, but it has been years since i looked up anything in Wren & Martin.
so i look at rewriting the page. it looks something like this:
Long, long ago, in the woods of North America, there lived a family of the Chippewa tribe.They built wigwams to live in and were happy and contented, loving the good things of the Earth. They loved the sunshine, the forests, and the cool springs. But the Chippewa people often went hungry because they did not know how to grow corn or wheat for food, they lived only by hunting.
It was a custom among the Chippewa to send the boys who had just turned fourteen, to the lonely place for seven days, so that they could fast and pray to the Great Spirit, and learn to face the harsh life ahead of them.
It was time for the eldest son of this family to carry out this tradition. His father took him to the forest, built him a little wigwam, and told him what he was to do.
"You are to stay here, my son," he told the boy. "Pray to the Great Spirit, and ask him to bless our tribe. After seven days I shall come back for you with food."
____________________________________________
now that i was reading, i thought i should figure out what was wrong with the text. here are some of my thoughts.
1) The story has been written in a script format, a style meant for a story-teller to learn, so that the tale could be told, rather than read. There is a vast difference between a story written for reading and one written for reading aloud. For example, the alliterative use of 'life that lay ahead', on the face of it, there is nothing wrong grammatically, but this is wasted because it is wordy; 'life ahead' is just as meaningful.
2) Grammar check: the word 'life' is a singular noun, it conflicts with the verb 'lay'.
3) The story plays havoc with the tenses. The usage words 'at this time' is 'current' which conflicts the story that begins with 'long long time ago there WAS...'
Also I shuddered to read: 'for at this time, they did not know about growing corn'. To place 'at this time' which implies present tense, with 'did not know', which is past perfect (as it implies knowledge from the past), with 'about growing corn' which is present continuous tense, and everyone knows that there is no such thing is present continuous.
4) Americanisms abound! I understand that this is an American story, but it is poor use of language indeed to say 'about growing corn' instead of simply saying 'how to grow corn' which would also make the tense correct.
5) Similarly, the usage of the word 'custom'. Customs are followed, traditions are carried out.
6) The use of single quotes is prevalent now, but it is NOT acceptable when you are teaching children grammar.
This is but the beginning of the story...
___________________________________________
i was aghast. who is this Nicholas Horsburgh, and why is Oxford Reading Circle (book 5) prescribed reading for fifth graders? child unit had been through Harry Potter books. why was the school dumbing down their reading?
i went to the next few stories, just to assure myself that it was just my imagination...
for your reading pleasure, here are the next few stories. correction. the beginning few paragraphs of the next few stories:
_____________________________________________
The boy with an answer
Raman was a bright boy, but he was also very mischievous. He lived many years ago in a small village in the kingdom of Vijaynagaram in South India. Since he was an only child, his mother loved him very dearly. You could say that he was pampered too much and became a spoilt child. But Raman had a quick wit and this helped him to make friends and get along in life.
At that time, the ruler of the kingdom of Vijaynagaram was a mighty king called Krishna Deva Raya. He was a fine and powerful ruler, and at his court there were many famous musicians, artists, and other wise and skilful people.
Raman lived in a small village called Tenali. There was a school in the village, but Raman's mother thought that the other boys at school would harm her dear little boy. So she did not go to school. And that suited him fine! He would wander about all day, and be cheeky to whoever he liked! Of course, not being at school made Raman quite lazy.
_____________________________________________
Nicholas Horsburgh has never heard of structure, obviously. the story is going all over the place.
It goes backwards and forwards. It does not even begin in the traditional way, as in: 'Long long time ago' or 'Once upon a time'...The village is mentioned, but not its name. The name of the village comes in the third paragraph. The kingdom of Vijaynagaram is mentioned twice, the name of the king comes in the second paragraph.
The story sends confusing signals about Raman: he is bright, but mischievous; he is loved dearly, but is pampered and spoilt; he wanders about all day, but is lazy; he is cheeky but as the first statement says, he was bright.
Moreover, how is this statement true: Not being at school made Raman lazy? I think not going to school makes children stupid, not lazy.
Amar Chitra Katha on Tenali Raman has this very same story. And it has been better told.
_____________________________________________
The poet and the jester
Raman grew up and did become a famous poet. His name was spread far and wide and his friends often told him to go to the court of the king, Krishna Deva Raya, to seek a job there. The king would pay him well and look after him because that is exactly what the king used to do. In his court there were many wise and skilful people and they were all looked after well.
Raman, or Tenali Raman, as he was now known as, thought that this was a great idea. However, he did not know how he could get into the court of the king.
Then, one day. A man called Tathachari, who was very close to the king, came to a place near Tenali. Raman's friends told Raman about this man.
...
Raman thanked Tathachari most gratefully.
_________________________________________
Help me out here, people!
Shouldn't each story in the book be able to stand on its own? Even if it is a second story about Tenali Raman. What sort of introduction is this!
The usage if 'did'.' Raman grew up to be a famous poet' is a good enough sentence. The moment the verb 'did' is added, i am forced to ask, "Was there a doubt that he would not be a famous poet upon growing up?"
The word famous implies well-known. You do not need to say 'name was spread far and wide'. Besides, saying 'name was spread far and wide is as colloquial as 'what is your good name'
'This is exactly what the king used to do'?! I would be shocked if you asked me what was wrong with the sentence.
And exactly what kind of English is 'as he was now known as'? Or 'came to a place near Tenali'? or Raman thanked him most gratefully'?
_____________________________________________
The toad's warts
From time to time, we all ask the question 'why?': Why is the sky blue? Why are leaves green? Why do people grow old and die? Why does the Sun shine? Why this? Why that? Why the other?
Some of you may have wondered why the back of a toad is covered with warts. Well, your question will be answered, in this folk tale from Myanmar...
_____________________________________________
oh mah deah gawd! this is an introduction to a story? what is the need for this introduction? Could the story simply start by saying: Here is an amusing little tale from Myanmar?
so you have an Introductory paragraph. it begins by addressing the story to 'we', and it changes to 'you' in the second paragraph.
but i had lost it. no longer did the rain make me want to snuggle up and read. it made me want to get a hold of nicholas horsburgh and punish him with paper cuts. but there was a niggling doubt, so i turned to the beginning of the book, where the editor signs his name to the introduction.
That is when i felt that 'death by paper cut' was too lax a punishment.
The Introduction of the book itself was not without errors. It promised that the book will encourage the pupils to 'delve deeper into the glorious world of English literature'. I would be surprised if the children want to read anything at all after this travesty of what is praised to be a carefully chosen 'treasure trove of stories'.
The stories have 'Value based themes'? Please read the Tenali Raman story where it is implied that you could be cheeky and lazy and pampered and spoilt but you could grow up to be famous poet!
The same section says: Vocabulary and structures have been controlled throughout.'
'Structures'?
Enough said.
so i counted to ten and then wore out the living room carpet down to threadbare.
(drumroll!)
i decided i was going to be a proactive parent. so i googled Oxford University Press (http://www.oup.com/) and hit the 'contact us' button, without barfing at the profound promises they make on their landing page.
i wasn't sure, such a big publishing company was ever going to answer, so i wrote to the principal of the school and the curriculum director (yes! such creatures exist these days!). someone was bound to take responsibility!
i complained:
Dear Sir/Madam,
The Oxford Reading Circle (book 5) is riddled with errors in grammar as well as usage of the English language.
It's a pity that the mistakes begin with the introduction to the book itself.
Since the book is prescribed by the government, I can only begin by registering a protest with you. However, you can be assured that unless you tell me how the mistakes will be rectified (and before this academic session is over), I would be forced to make the glaring errors public.
disappointed parent,
Manisha Lakhe
_____________________________________________
i received mail in the next two days! and that too from lord panjandrum himself!
_____________________________________________
On 7/13/07 (email address) wrote:
This is in reference to your complaint regarding Oxford Reading Circle. Our editors will revert to you in due course.
Ranjan Kaul
Publishing Director
Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel
the mail was addressed to yours truly and a lady called Sutapa"
_____________________________________________
i decided to be helpful, and send the whole bunch of queries and comments to both Ranjan Kaul and Sutapa Basu. they were prompt as before. i thought it was time to believe. there was a god.
_____________________________________________
Dear Manisha Lakhe,
Thank you for your mail, which I will share with our editors and author. As of now, I would like to only mention that Oxford Reading Circle is a literature course, where the attempt is to retain the orginal writings of the respective authors. It is not a language course. At the same time, I do understand your concerns, and will try to send you a detailed reply once we have examined your mail in detail.
Do bear with us till then.
Ranjan
Ranjan Kaul
Educational and Higher Education
Publishing Director
Oxford University Press
1st Floor, YMCA Library Building
Jai Singh Road
New Delhi 1100 01 India
(tel. no)
( fax)
( email)
_____________________________________________
hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
literature has got nothing to do with language?
please note his title. will someone explain to me what is 'educational and higher education'?
i wrote to my school principal and the curriculum director, who hid behind corporate waffle that said something like: the education ministry suggests 100 text books and we just chose the most reputable publisher, but in ten pages. (that is another story!)
_____________________________________________
dear lina, vandana and all you marvelous friends who have supported me in my quest for bringing a positive change in the way English is taught.
please read this mail i received from Oxofrd Univ. Press.
i have been hugely amused and aghast at the same time. did not know that using a language had nothing to do with literature. but rest assured i shall persuade this to the bitter end. if not my son, then some other child will benefit next year.
regards,
manisha
_____________________________________________
Lina Asher and Ms.Vandana are smart cookies. they knew they had run into a 'mad mommy force'. they promptly had the book removed from the curriculum and the kids started on something called Wisdom of Words. i have not dared to touch the new book.
but Oxford University Press obviously had not heard of my triumph at school. this is next exchange of email:
_____________________________________________
"Kumar, Neetu"
to me
Jul 20
Dear Ms Lakhe
This is further to Ranjan Kaul’s email to you. We have discussed your suggestions with our editors and the author. As indicated to you earlier, since this is a Literature Reader series, a conscious attempt has been made to expose learners to a variety of language styles including “Americanisms”. In this it is possible that a few styles used may not find favour with a section of readers but many of the stories used are by well-known writers and have been enjoyed by children the world over. It is for this reason that they have been included.
At the same time, we welcome all constructive criticism and it is our constant endeavour to make improvements. Where possible, your suggestions will be taken on board in the next revision.
In the meanwhile, we would appreciate if you can send us a list of glaring grammatical errors at your convenience.
We thank you for your interest in the series.
With best wishes
Neetu Kumar
Neetu Kumar
Publishing Editor-ELT
Oxford University Press
YMCA Library Building
Jai Singh Road
New Delhi 110001
India
(telephone)
(fax)
(e-mail)
_____________________________________________
it was bad enough that politicians were changing history text books to suit their own agenda. but now publishers want parents to play vigilante and help edit text books? whose job is it anyway?
_____________________________________________
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Shaka laka boom boom !
A little bird told us recently, that the movie ' Shaka laka boom boom' has been based on .........................................hold your breath ..........................................none other than .........................................the oscar winner movie with a great sound track ......................................................................................................................................
AMADEUS !!!!
Now it is poor Amadeus' turn to roll over.
AMADEUS !!!!
Now it is poor Amadeus' turn to roll over.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
By Design.
We have been declared the Designers of the Year.
It all started this way. The brief said- open office, transparent glass cubicles, soft music etc, the silicon valley techy look. Simple 'nuff, we said. But taking indian Entrepreneur to silicon valley proved to be as difficult as Taking Ramji-bhai to London. We hadn't realized that everyone's hearts belonged so firmly to their Gaon !
The glass cubicles open to sky ( read ceiling ) felt oppressive to some. Some longed for their privacy and were unhappy about glass walls. Some, being more used to the carefree -'Raamu ho! Chaachi ho!!' style of conversation across the office resented the need for the hushed conversations, and communication via intercoms. I mean, why bother to use the intercoms when you could clearly see the office boy right cross the office?
Soon it was apparent to us that various people had various issues with the design. So we decided to make a few changes and create a more congnial atmosphere which, while not exactly silicon valley, will be what any over worked indian Entrepreneur craves. An office and resort rolled in one.
The very first thing we did was to give all the cubicles bright red mangalore tiled roofs. The design pandits may argue that cubicles do not have roofs. But when the heart craves a roof, we find a way to install one. Similarly, opaque films were put on the glass walls, to provide privacy to inmates. A door was added, with a small vent to see who is out side. A small wall fan because the tiled roof now cut off the central a/c. As a good measure we also added a hand fan, for those especially hot summer days. A matka in the corner with cool water. If one craved company, one got up and went over to the village...umm...the office water cooler and passed the time of the day. If you wanted Kulhadwalli chai you can always holler for Raamu bhaiyya, or Durga chaachi.
The atmosphere around the office changed dramatically. People looked relaxed and eager to work, happy to be tucked into their own personal designer huts. The efficiency zoomed up overnight. Water cooler romances flourished, a few even cancelled their planned vacations to far away resorts, saying, "It was much more fun in the office". No one bunked work any more. A few minor squabbles broke out over the issue of decorating the office with Rangoli on festival days, which was sorted out amicably. They opted for rangoli stickers. And last, but not the least, we have been nominated for the prestigious ' Designer of the Year' award for ruralizing the urban corporate design. The style is known as 'Rural-ban' ( to rhyme with Sundar-ban). The fashion designers are picking this trend up and designing a new Village chief look for the CEOs. The ultimate in power dressing.
We look upon this project as something of a path breaker in the corporate design culture. Keeping in mind our stupendous success we are introducing a few new features. First, we plan to abolish the work desks. Working on khatiya with a laptop will add a new dimention to the corporate stratagies. For those who smoke,the office boys will be trained to handle chillums and hukkas.
Mahatma Gandhi said- India lives in its millions of villages. We are helping the cause in our own way.
It all started this way. The brief said- open office, transparent glass cubicles, soft music etc, the silicon valley techy look. Simple 'nuff, we said. But taking indian Entrepreneur to silicon valley proved to be as difficult as Taking Ramji-bhai to London. We hadn't realized that everyone's hearts belonged so firmly to their Gaon !
The glass cubicles open to sky ( read ceiling ) felt oppressive to some. Some longed for their privacy and were unhappy about glass walls. Some, being more used to the carefree -'Raamu ho! Chaachi ho!!' style of conversation across the office resented the need for the hushed conversations, and communication via intercoms. I mean, why bother to use the intercoms when you could clearly see the office boy right cross the office?
Soon it was apparent to us that various people had various issues with the design. So we decided to make a few changes and create a more congnial atmosphere which, while not exactly silicon valley, will be what any over worked indian Entrepreneur craves. An office and resort rolled in one.
The very first thing we did was to give all the cubicles bright red mangalore tiled roofs. The design pandits may argue that cubicles do not have roofs. But when the heart craves a roof, we find a way to install one. Similarly, opaque films were put on the glass walls, to provide privacy to inmates. A door was added, with a small vent to see who is out side. A small wall fan because the tiled roof now cut off the central a/c. As a good measure we also added a hand fan, for those especially hot summer days. A matka in the corner with cool water. If one craved company, one got up and went over to the village...umm...the office water cooler and passed the time of the day. If you wanted Kulhadwalli chai you can always holler for Raamu bhaiyya, or Durga chaachi.
The atmosphere around the office changed dramatically. People looked relaxed and eager to work, happy to be tucked into their own personal designer huts. The efficiency zoomed up overnight. Water cooler romances flourished, a few even cancelled their planned vacations to far away resorts, saying, "It was much more fun in the office". No one bunked work any more. A few minor squabbles broke out over the issue of decorating the office with Rangoli on festival days, which was sorted out amicably. They opted for rangoli stickers. And last, but not the least, we have been nominated for the prestigious ' Designer of the Year' award for ruralizing the urban corporate design. The style is known as 'Rural-ban' ( to rhyme with Sundar-ban). The fashion designers are picking this trend up and designing a new Village chief look for the CEOs. The ultimate in power dressing.
We look upon this project as something of a path breaker in the corporate design culture. Keeping in mind our stupendous success we are introducing a few new features. First, we plan to abolish the work desks. Working on khatiya with a laptop will add a new dimention to the corporate stratagies. For those who smoke,the office boys will be trained to handle chillums and hukkas.
Mahatma Gandhi said- India lives in its millions of villages. We are helping the cause in our own way.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Ask Baraati - The CKB Advice Column 2
Question: What of your father goes?
Yeh sawaal aaya hai Dilli ke rehne waale us shaqs se jo apni tareef nahin karna chaahtey.
Answer:
The answer to this question is very complex. The question of course is just as complex as Shashi Kapoor asking, "Bhai, sign karte ho ya nahin?" So the answer also must be just about as complex as Amitabh Bacchan saying: "Pehle uss aadmi ki sign le kar aao, jisne..."
To explain this line, I'll have to use the simile technique. Now first, take the popular quote: "Toh main kya naachoon?" Then reverse the purpose of this word. So now with the reversed purpose where you're basically asking the other person whether he should be dancing. Now negate the meaning. So now you're asking him, "Why should you be dancing?" Then you add the assumption that he doesn't want to dance. So now you've proved that you want to make him dance when he doesn't want to dance and then you're asking him why should he be dancing. This contradicts the assumption with which we began the proof that you don't want to dance. Thus we conclude that why the hell should he worry about dancing! So finally, frustrated that even after all this dancing, your friend doesn't understand the meaning of: "What of your father goes?"
So you tell him: "Why do you need to know what of my or your father goes?"
He says: "I don't know."
You: "Do you need to know where he goes?"
He: "No!"
You: "Do you need to know how he goes?"
He: "No!"
You: "Toh phir chootiye, tere baap ka kya jaata hai?!"
Phew!
You owe the baraatis one kimaam paan a day for the next 23 days!
Yeh sawaal aaya hai Dilli ke rehne waale us shaqs se jo apni tareef nahin karna chaahtey.
Answer:
The answer to this question is very complex. The question of course is just as complex as Shashi Kapoor asking, "Bhai, sign karte ho ya nahin?" So the answer also must be just about as complex as Amitabh Bacchan saying: "Pehle uss aadmi ki sign le kar aao, jisne..."
To explain this line, I'll have to use the simile technique. Now first, take the popular quote: "Toh main kya naachoon?" Then reverse the purpose of this word. So now with the reversed purpose where you're basically asking the other person whether he should be dancing. Now negate the meaning. So now you're asking him, "Why should you be dancing?" Then you add the assumption that he doesn't want to dance. So now you've proved that you want to make him dance when he doesn't want to dance and then you're asking him why should he be dancing. This contradicts the assumption with which we began the proof that you don't want to dance. Thus we conclude that why the hell should he worry about dancing! So finally, frustrated that even after all this dancing, your friend doesn't understand the meaning of: "What of your father goes?"
So you tell him: "Why do you need to know what of my or your father goes?"
He says: "I don't know."
You: "Do you need to know where he goes?"
He: "No!"
You: "Do you need to know how he goes?"
He: "No!"
You: "Toh phir chootiye, tere baap ka kya jaata hai?!"
Phew!
You owe the baraatis one kimaam paan a day for the next 23 days!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
feeding my ancestors...
i thought i had the weight loss plan down quite pat.
morning walk, breakfast, walk to errands, walk towards other ladies who lunch, walk back home and so on, when i stopped in me tracks!
the morning air was thick with terrible cries. the sounds of a thousand wings flapping had turned one patch on the carter road promenade a flurry of black. the harbingers of death, the stars of scary movies like the omen, were swirling in a frenzy.
crows! hundreds of crows were crowding the pathway, flying, sitting on a path meant for joggers and walkers. it was such a scary sight people were using the road in order to avoid being pecked or swooped at...
the refrain from a bhajan 'kaga chun chun khaiyo maans, do naina mat khaiyo, unme piya milan ki aas' popped into my head and i shivered. ugh! what were the carrion crows swooping down to eat?
that is when i spotted a bent old gent in whites in the middle of the flurry. oh no! the birds were attacking the old man! i looked around for help wildly. would no one help the poor man? just then a hawaldar materialised out of no where. aah, a savior! i thought.
"bhaiyya!" i must've have burst his ear drum i thought! "bhaiyya! us aadmi ko kau-ve attackkar rahe hain! halp karo please!"
the man responded more to my scream than logic. he charged through the wings waving his stick, as if he were zorro. a couple more people walking charged at the birds waving their arms. i too joined the save the bent gent drive, begand flapping my arms to shoo the nasty birds away.
soon the angry birds were flying away. the hawaldar was the first to reach the bent gent.
"saab! aap theek toh hain saab?"
"are you all right? have the birds pecked you anywhere?" chorussed the other morning joggers
i am terrified of crows, so was standing stunned by the realisation that i had actually walked through a sea of them!
i noticed that the bent gent was not saying anything. poor man!
someone said, "poor thing, i am sure he is scared!"
another concered person said, "let him sit down! sit down, sir"
my eyes narrowed as i saw his expression. he did not at all look happy for having been rescued from the birds. in fact he was having a tough time controlling his temper. he started waving his arms madly at all of us.
"you meddlesome mad people! what have you done! i was feeding my ancestors! now they will be hungry!" then he let loose a few of the choicest epithets in hindi.
his rescuers were staring at him in varying degrees of surprise. why was he cursing us?
"you idiots! these crows are our ancestors. feeding them is a sure path to heaven! you have ruined it! you fools!"
it sunk in. i had walked through what seemed like a mile of claws and beaks for this! they were his ancestors! what crap! outrage took over.
"they were all your ancestors?"
the bent gent gave me a look that could wither my skin in an instant. but i am made of sterner stuff. and one of the other rescuers giggled. i needed no more encouragement.
"how do you know they were all your ancestors? and what were you feeding them? bread? what are you going to bring them for their lunch?"
"foolish woman! they are everyone's ancestors! you will go straight to hell for saying these things! blasphemy!"
"my ancestors too?"
"yes, yes! yours, mine, everyone's ancestors!"
i couldn't imagine my little loving granny as a crow. i had always imagined her with a harp, sitting on a cloud, singing away. no way had she turned into a ugly cawing bird of nightmares! and she never ate bread! she liked hot phulkas with ghee on them! this man was feedig her hard paav! a gabbar line popped into my head.
"bahut naainsaafi hai!"
i was now outraged too! i stood there, arms akimbo, ready to fight with this horrid man.
not only had he disrupted everyone's peaceful morning walk but now was claiming my little sweet grandma had turned into a crow and she was eating brun paav out of his hands?! no way!
"oi! my ancestors don't like bread! and they never ate handouts! that too from strangers!"
the junta gathered there also agreed. their ancestors did not eat bread either.
"and why are you feeding everyone's ancestors? feed your own! we will take care of ours!"
the bent gent was sputtering at my logic.
"did you get a licence to organise this public feast? moreover, how dare you invite my sweet grandma and then feed her hard bread? she ate chapatis laced with ghee! so these must be your ancestors. and if they are, why are you feeding them here? feed them at your home! i am warning you now, sir, if you try and feed my ancestors with yours and any of my ancestors feel ill after eating the hard bread, i shall send a couple of my tough ancestors to beat up your ancestors..."
the promenade was filled with laughter.
we never saw him again.
that was a few weeks ago. this morning we saw a woman push away a street kid, and feed stray dogs...
morning walk, breakfast, walk to errands, walk towards other ladies who lunch, walk back home and so on, when i stopped in me tracks!
the morning air was thick with terrible cries. the sounds of a thousand wings flapping had turned one patch on the carter road promenade a flurry of black. the harbingers of death, the stars of scary movies like the omen, were swirling in a frenzy.
crows! hundreds of crows were crowding the pathway, flying, sitting on a path meant for joggers and walkers. it was such a scary sight people were using the road in order to avoid being pecked or swooped at...
the refrain from a bhajan 'kaga chun chun khaiyo maans, do naina mat khaiyo, unme piya milan ki aas' popped into my head and i shivered. ugh! what were the carrion crows swooping down to eat?
that is when i spotted a bent old gent in whites in the middle of the flurry. oh no! the birds were attacking the old man! i looked around for help wildly. would no one help the poor man? just then a hawaldar materialised out of no where. aah, a savior! i thought.
"bhaiyya!" i must've have burst his ear drum i thought! "bhaiyya! us aadmi ko kau-ve attackkar rahe hain! halp karo please!"
the man responded more to my scream than logic. he charged through the wings waving his stick, as if he were zorro. a couple more people walking charged at the birds waving their arms. i too joined the save the bent gent drive, begand flapping my arms to shoo the nasty birds away.
soon the angry birds were flying away. the hawaldar was the first to reach the bent gent.
"saab! aap theek toh hain saab?"
"are you all right? have the birds pecked you anywhere?" chorussed the other morning joggers
i am terrified of crows, so was standing stunned by the realisation that i had actually walked through a sea of them!
i noticed that the bent gent was not saying anything. poor man!
someone said, "poor thing, i am sure he is scared!"
another concered person said, "let him sit down! sit down, sir"
my eyes narrowed as i saw his expression. he did not at all look happy for having been rescued from the birds. in fact he was having a tough time controlling his temper. he started waving his arms madly at all of us.
"you meddlesome mad people! what have you done! i was feeding my ancestors! now they will be hungry!" then he let loose a few of the choicest epithets in hindi.
his rescuers were staring at him in varying degrees of surprise. why was he cursing us?
"you idiots! these crows are our ancestors. feeding them is a sure path to heaven! you have ruined it! you fools!"
it sunk in. i had walked through what seemed like a mile of claws and beaks for this! they were his ancestors! what crap! outrage took over.
"they were all your ancestors?"
the bent gent gave me a look that could wither my skin in an instant. but i am made of sterner stuff. and one of the other rescuers giggled. i needed no more encouragement.
"how do you know they were all your ancestors? and what were you feeding them? bread? what are you going to bring them for their lunch?"
"foolish woman! they are everyone's ancestors! you will go straight to hell for saying these things! blasphemy!"
"my ancestors too?"
"yes, yes! yours, mine, everyone's ancestors!"
i couldn't imagine my little loving granny as a crow. i had always imagined her with a harp, sitting on a cloud, singing away. no way had she turned into a ugly cawing bird of nightmares! and she never ate bread! she liked hot phulkas with ghee on them! this man was feedig her hard paav! a gabbar line popped into my head.
"bahut naainsaafi hai!"
i was now outraged too! i stood there, arms akimbo, ready to fight with this horrid man.
not only had he disrupted everyone's peaceful morning walk but now was claiming my little sweet grandma had turned into a crow and she was eating brun paav out of his hands?! no way!
"oi! my ancestors don't like bread! and they never ate handouts! that too from strangers!"
the junta gathered there also agreed. their ancestors did not eat bread either.
"and why are you feeding everyone's ancestors? feed your own! we will take care of ours!"
the bent gent was sputtering at my logic.
"did you get a licence to organise this public feast? moreover, how dare you invite my sweet grandma and then feed her hard bread? she ate chapatis laced with ghee! so these must be your ancestors. and if they are, why are you feeding them here? feed them at your home! i am warning you now, sir, if you try and feed my ancestors with yours and any of my ancestors feel ill after eating the hard bread, i shall send a couple of my tough ancestors to beat up your ancestors..."
the promenade was filled with laughter.
we never saw him again.
that was a few weeks ago. this morning we saw a woman push away a street kid, and feed stray dogs...
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Book bhejo...warna...!
a month into becoming publisher and i have the dubious distinction of receiving threat mail:
Hi Manisha,
After going through Peter - he has his constraints, I'll grant that - and Annie, who said she'd forward my mail to you, I'm asking you directly:
I want to buy ten copies of SATCT
I'd like to know the amount I must write on the cheque, including courier charges and bank charges I'd like to have the information within the next two days, please. Failing provision of the information requested I shall be sending print-outs of all emails pertaining to this issue to:
District Consumer Disputes Redressal Forum
692, Pushpa Heights
Bibewadi
Pune 411037
Telephone No.: 24210364 (Registrar), 24217489 (Office)
Thanks,
XXXX
(poor man, i did not wish to embarrass him by using his name in public. after all he provided so much joy!)
i fell of my chair laughing! and then sat back to analyse my position in the real world:
a brand new publisher finds readers who wish to buy more copies of the book! (the fact that the sender of the mail is one of the authors in the collection of short stories did not matter).
imagine the scenario had the sender been flush with time and money...
court scene:
the judge, looks bored out of his wits, he has dealt with tedious complaints all morning.
the complainant, looks smug, because he has rightfully taken an annoying publisher to task
the defender, a publisher (yours truly), looks smug, because she feels completely vindicated for having published a book that people are taking drastic steps to buy.
of course the court is full of media. they want to know why publisher of book is being sued!
complainant
me lud, you have seen the emails, me lud, she won't send me books!
judge
(looks bored)
why wont you send him books?
complainant
(righteous indignation)
i am telling her i shall pay for the books!
judge
(looks bored)
mister mor...let her answer!
publisher
thank you all for coming here. it is a proud day for the indian publishing industry, indeed for all readers of the written word that dee... should have invited me here...
complainant
(further righteous indignation)
see! see! i told you! they will do everything but give me the books!
judge
(looks bored)
let her speak mister (swallows)pak
publisher
as i was saying, i am indeed fortunate to be placed in this enviable position. after all, people have been raving and ranting about how no one reads, how television has encroached upon our reading time...and here is a gent who has written mail after email begging us for books
complainant
i object! i did not beg!
judge
(looking bored)
stop interjecting, but madam, please to explain why you concluded that the complainant was begging
publisher
he cannot prove he was just sitting on the chair at his desk, or was he kneeling in front of the computer, so maybe he wasn't literally begging, but we inferred...
complainant
(righteous indignation)
aha!
judge
(wakes up)
whaa...
well, what d'ya know...i have a confession to make. i received this mail at 11 something pm. unfortunately, i had already couriered the said ten books to the gent that afternoon. obviously, the courier would be delivering the books by the following morning. after having done laughing, i called the courier company. they confirmed that the package had reached pune, and would be delivered the next morning.
i paid them to return the package.
Hi Manisha,
After going through Peter - he has his constraints, I'll grant that - and Annie, who said she'd forward my mail to you, I'm asking you directly:
I want to buy ten copies of SATCT
I'd like to know the amount I must write on the cheque, including courier charges and bank charges I'd like to have the information within the next two days, please. Failing provision of the information requested I shall be sending print-outs of all emails pertaining to this issue to:
District Consumer Disputes Redressal Forum
692, Pushpa Heights
Bibewadi
Pune 411037
Telephone No.: 24210364 (Registrar), 24217489 (Office)
Thanks,
XXXX
(poor man, i did not wish to embarrass him by using his name in public. after all he provided so much joy!)
i fell of my chair laughing! and then sat back to analyse my position in the real world:
a brand new publisher finds readers who wish to buy more copies of the book! (the fact that the sender of the mail is one of the authors in the collection of short stories did not matter).
imagine the scenario had the sender been flush with time and money...
court scene:
the judge, looks bored out of his wits, he has dealt with tedious complaints all morning.
the complainant, looks smug, because he has rightfully taken an annoying publisher to task
the defender, a publisher (yours truly), looks smug, because she feels completely vindicated for having published a book that people are taking drastic steps to buy.
of course the court is full of media. they want to know why publisher of book is being sued!
complainant
me lud, you have seen the emails, me lud, she won't send me books!
judge
(looks bored)
why wont you send him books?
complainant
(righteous indignation)
i am telling her i shall pay for the books!
judge
(looks bored)
mister mor...let her answer!
publisher
thank you all for coming here. it is a proud day for the indian publishing industry, indeed for all readers of the written word that dee... should have invited me here...
complainant
(further righteous indignation)
see! see! i told you! they will do everything but give me the books!
judge
(looks bored)
let her speak mister (swallows)pak
publisher
as i was saying, i am indeed fortunate to be placed in this enviable position. after all, people have been raving and ranting about how no one reads, how television has encroached upon our reading time...and here is a gent who has written mail after email begging us for books
complainant
i object! i did not beg!
judge
(looking bored)
stop interjecting, but madam, please to explain why you concluded that the complainant was begging
publisher
he cannot prove he was just sitting on the chair at his desk, or was he kneeling in front of the computer, so maybe he wasn't literally begging, but we inferred...
complainant
(righteous indignation)
aha!
judge
(wakes up)
whaa...
well, what d'ya know...i have a confession to make. i received this mail at 11 something pm. unfortunately, i had already couriered the said ten books to the gent that afternoon. obviously, the courier would be delivering the books by the following morning. after having done laughing, i called the courier company. they confirmed that the package had reached pune, and would be delivered the next morning.
i paid them to return the package.
Quotable Literary Quotes
"All this while we were talking about making everything in story look real... i thought this was a fiction writing workshop... where is the fiction?"
"what should a writer concentrate on: winning the nobel prize where there are a lots of politics or writing best books. let's take analogy of cricketer, shud he practice to play best or shud he practice to win world cup?"
The best analogy to understand the plight of a writer!
"If one wants to make living as writer he needs a minimum of 1000 dollars a month and probably can write one book a year."
That is approximately Rs. 45,000 a month. Wow! :D
"the indian won't publish my work because my work features no indian protagonist and neither is it based in india - why is it that a writer from india has to be in an ethnic ghetto?
anyway, the americans would rather publish one of their own when it comes to mainstream fiction. they want us to only write ghetto stuff like namesake and maximum city. no need for us churn out a grisham or a king!"
Errr... how much do you know about an American's life? So basically you're creating your own barrier by saying that only an American Life Story is Mainstream fiction?
"what should a writer concentrate on: winning the nobel prize where there are a lots of politics or writing best books. let's take analogy of cricketer, shud he practice to play best or shud he practice to win world cup?"
The best analogy to understand the plight of a writer!
"If one wants to make living as writer he needs a minimum of 1000 dollars a month and probably can write one book a year."
That is approximately Rs. 45,000 a month. Wow! :D
"the indian won't publish my work because my work features no indian protagonist and neither is it based in india - why is it that a writer from india has to be in an ethnic ghetto?
anyway, the americans would rather publish one of their own when it comes to mainstream fiction. they want us to only write ghetto stuff like namesake and maximum city. no need for us churn out a grisham or a king!"
Errr... how much do you know about an American's life? So basically you're creating your own barrier by saying that only an American Life Story is Mainstream fiction?
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
The science of the ancients.
A new project was about to begin, the design had been finalized, we had knocked down the walls and dug up the tiles, and the client, a rational man till now, dropped a stinker.
“ I have invited a Vaastu Pandit ( who also doubled as a pyramidologist). Hope you guys work under his advise.”
“33 % only!” he admonished us.
By now my fiery partner was ready to sacrifice the Wise man to Gods " On the full moon nights, under the Pyramids”.
“ Before starting the work, apply a 2 inch thick layer of cow dung all over the place. Just see that it’s the dung of a good cow, and not that of a buffalo nor ( God Forbid ! ) a bull.” This was to purify the place.
Now, 1400 sft ( doesn’t matter carpet, built up or super built up) place, meant a lot of cow. And I pointed that out.
“ If you can procure me the cow dung, I will see that it is spread”. I said coolly. The cows in front of the temples seemed like a safe bet. Standing there all day long was bound to make them pious, god fearing cows. I had no idea what was considered as ‘Goodness ‘ in a cow. No hanky panky with a hunky bull ? Was it a done thing to enquire about her virginity? Anyway, a man was appointed by the client to get some ( plenty ! I reminded them. 2 inch thick layer needs plenty !! ) cow dung asap.
“ This is NOT enough! We have to give a 2” think layer on 1400 sft! Bring me more!” I ordered haughtily.
Now it was the assistant’s turn to break down. Clearly the man had reached the end of his patience.
“ This is all I could get. Take it or leave it!” after he cooled down he told us his tale of woes. For a week he chased four cows and their attendants. Two of the women demanded 50 bucks in advance and vanished. Third one yelled at him saying- “the cow is constipated! What can I do ? “
“ This is all I could get, please accept and sprinkle it on the site and start the work."
I accepted the compromise, and the work started as planned.
He declared profoundly- “ Yes. I believe in it. It always works. It’s a fool proof science of the ancients. It has to work.” Then a little pause, “ Provided the cow has been good, of course.”
He, as always, had the last word.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Ask Baraati: The CKB Advice Column
Question: What does Chootiya mean?
Yeh sawaal aaya hai Mumbai se, sawaal poochhnewaale apna naam nahin bataana chaahtey...
Answer:
This word can mean many things. A lot depends on what kind of a person you are. If you are a chootiya yourself... then this word doesn't mean anything, it is just another abusive word which you can use to address other degenerates like yourself. Otherwise there's a short list of conditions to fulfil, here's the list:
To the others who wish to write into us, yeh address note down kar lijiye:
CKB Ask Baraati,
c/o CKB,
P. O. Box no. 420
Mumbai - 400 9211
Baraatiyon ka swaagat 'pan paraag' se keejeeye!
Yeh sawaal aaya hai Mumbai se, sawaal poochhnewaale apna naam nahin bataana chaahtey...
Answer:
This word can mean many things. A lot depends on what kind of a person you are. If you are a chootiya yourself... then this word doesn't mean anything, it is just another abusive word which you can use to address other degenerates like yourself. Otherwise there's a short list of conditions to fulfil, here's the list:
- Your occupation is officially noted as, "Chootiyagiri" on your ration card.
- Your friends keep asking you to change your underwear.
- You think you are the guy who appears in all celebrity wetdreams.
- When someone says, "kaan ke neeche maaronga!" and after being slapped you actually argue saying, "yeh toh gaal pe maara, kaan ke neeche kahaan maara?"
- When you're stalking a girl and you decide to give blank calls, when her father actually asks you furiously, "KAUN BOL RAHA HAI?!" instead of hanging up, you actually give our your full name, with your mother's maiden name, your address, your telephone number, your father's business address, your caste, religion, your native town, your mother tongue and the colour of your bedroom ceiling.
- You actually have an email address which says: "baapkamaal@fukatchodu.com" and your friends have email addresses like: "chootiyekamaal@fukatchodu.com"
- Everytime you say something, people around you ask you to go home and ask your parents, "Yeh kaise ho gaya?! Kya khaaya thhaa?"
- Everytime someone says, "Mithun!" You have to put your palm on your belt buckle and raise your other hand and do five pelvic thrusts, each time saying, "Aaae!"
To the others who wish to write into us, yeh address note down kar lijiye:
CKB Ask Baraati,
c/o CKB,
P. O. Box no. 420
Mumbai - 400 9211
Baraatiyon ka swaagat 'pan paraag' se keejeeye!
Microsoft fust
to shut the comp, go to 'start'
(i know there are many more, but this one tops the heap!)
(i know there are many more, but this one tops the heap!)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)