There is an aunty who is a family friend of ours. She likes to telephone us a lot, presumably because we are all such skilled conversationalists. She has been calling us up since 1952. Or even earlier. (Maybe 1818?) . Every time she calls she always says "Hi, this is Meena from California." And I always say ,"Oh hello aunty, how are you?" And then we have a conversation and then I pass the phone around to everyone else in the house.
Confession: I have never met Meena from California.
Super Confession: Neither has anyone else who lives in my house. (Parents included)
The next big thing: No one is sure who she is, but we suspect she may be a friend of my grandmother's cousin. Ticking bomb: We have spoken to her so many times that now we are too afraid to ask, "Yes, but who exactly ARE you?"
It's like that boy in class who ALWAYS knows EVERYTHING; it loves small talk but you can never have a real conversation with it; it doesn't know how to listen but you can always, ALWAYS show it your sexy photographs and it will get excited.
Sometimes, people choose to be peritoneal dialysis technicians, and this means they have several clients, all screaming for their time and attention. It means they wake up at the crack of dawn and begin going from house to house, visiting client to client, washing hands, sanitizing work surfaces, handling bags and bags of dextrose fluid - several times a day, over and over again. And then they go home and fall asleep. And then they wake up and repeat the whole pattern all over again. It means never missing a day of work. It means keeping people alive. It means no holidays.
It means one week off in the whole year to do everything you ever wanted to do.
We live in the times of economic crisis and misbehaviour of dollars and euros. And so when you work at the Reserve Bank of India, you are constantly waging wars with the dollars and euros and getting them to behave.
And that brings me to the best and most exciting news of the day - I have learnt to tell the days of good dollar behaviour apart from the days of bad dollar behaviour. On the good days, Anand, who works at the RBI, calls me from work and chats with me. Because, he is relaxed and the dollars are behaving. On the bad days, I find that I am the one calling him up, and he lifts up the phone, speaks to me for 2.51 seconds and hangs up. Because, he is too busy waging a war. And this, dear fans and avid readers is the SIGN.
And this is how I, with no professional economic training whatsoever, have come to be able to read the signs of the economic crisis.
Today I shall discuss a rising concern of our times: FACEBOOK POKES. I have many problems with these, and I have kindly collected all of them in one single blog post for your reading pleasure.
1. When poked on facebook, I don't feel a thing.
2. Facebook now tweets you on every single poke rather than quietly collecting them all responsibly in one corner. I PREFER MY POKING PAPER WORK TO PILE UP, I HATE HAVING TO ATTEND TO IT ON AN IMMEDIATE BASIS AS THIS INCREASES MY POKING PAPERWORK.
3. I poke you you poke me I poke you you poke me I poke you you poke me ipokeyouyoupokemeipokeyouyoupokemeipokeyouyoupokemeipokeyouyoupokeme etc