Quick updates in bullets below:
§ After having religiously bunked Jazz classes post the show, the ever-sincere Devina, from the trio (composed of Me, Devina and Meggs) attended the class today. It seems that Simon (one of our instructors) actually had the nerve (or innocence??) to give her a new set of renewal slips for the three of us. Like.. HA– HA-HA . You finally cracked a good one, Simon. Like.. reallllllllyyyyyyy? Invest 12 more Sundays this Summer (@ 3-4 hrs per Sunday) and bleed ourselves to death in the melting pot that is your studio. Worse, bleed our pockets for classes we now bunk without batting an eyelid?
I mean, no offence… melikes you guyz… even if you mock at my sincere attempts at a feminine freeze by telling the junta that I was doing a Shahrukh Khan. I really really do love all that’s Jazz about you guyz. I just need my life and energy back. And there’s only so much heat and sweat I can tolerate this summer. I swear! See ya in the winters. And see me you will. You bet! :D (@ Meggs, Devina.. I mean it :-) )
§ Three things make me happpppppiest in summers (Listed below) Even the thought of these pushes my spirits right up.
o Hot Choc Fudge. Extra-fudge. And more Fudge. And more Fudge. Until it kills me. :D :D
o A bedroom cold-ened just about right. ** Cold-ened IS a word. I made it up today. And it stays.
o Meditation – Sleep. In the room mentioned above. Sleeping like there’s no care. Like every single thought –good or bad, in my head, has evaporated into oblivion- where it belongs. Sleeping for hours on end. Waking up only when apocalypse strikes? Oh heck, maybe not even then. Every good man (or woman) deserves pure, unadulterated hours of blissful sleep. It’s like the most beautiful phenomenon god ever made. Second only to Rains.
o Which brings me to the last item on the list: Rains :) Rains do something for me. I am not moved by flowers, mountains etc etc. Rains (and snow) are magical. A cool, rainy day in summers is like God’s way of saying.. “I do like u a lot. I do, I do, I do. Despite everything YOU do!”
§ Heard this at work in the last week-
o Colleague (expressing her lack of computer-savvy-ness): “I swear, Shruti .. I am one of those people ..jinko computer computer ka K bhi nahi aata”
One self- validating statement, that! :P
Sigh. Monday already.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Ten Truths About Life
(Takes a long deep swig from her bottle of water)
Lately, I have developed a whole new meaning/ logic in respect of Life. And it is this: It has no meaning. We spend all our lives in pursuit of some kind of meaning, justifying everything that occurs in the world around us with some cause and effect, and what’s and why’s, but it all really, really reallllllllly comes down to a big WHATEVER.
(Is now in that high-on-cold-boiled-water frame of mind - blurred vision, mindless typing)
(Drinks more water: Three more swigs. Consecutively. Feeling High-er )
No, but seriously. I have come to believe in this theory as strongly as I believe in my theory of Cyclicity of the Universe/ Life and in theory of Everything Happens For a Reason (As elaborated in one of my old blogposts – here). Everything makes sense. And everything is stupid- mindless. I know that’s totally contradictory- and yet, that’s the truth about the world- It is based on the principle of Ordered Anarchy –or Principia Discordia – the order in Chaos …. the Chaos in Order.
THAT is the Truth. And that’s the only truth.
(Is wondering if excessive cold water can damage the liver too; it seems to be impacting her brain pretty badly. Drinks some more. Feeling pukish)
It seems I have lost charge. Of my own life. And the funny thing is, I was never free-er. Right now, right here, if I want, I can change anything. Everything. But I know for a fact that I won’t. Everything seems to be going picture perfect. I hatttee appearances!! Wow, I can crib. God, you wanna put me in the malaria and poverty infested jungles of Africa maybe… and beg for mercy and display more gratitude- for everything. Instead of this self-absorbed, brattish- spoilt-kid cribbing.
(Stares blankly at her empty bottle. Domestic help has the cheek to reprimand me for not finishing my dinner. :O Has now put my bowl of curd at my desk- as if! Have been on the Hot Choc Fudge Therapy since the past 3 evenings now. Nirula’s people probably love me. Sigh- if wins over everything else in life were that easy to come by. Can’t treat myself to Hot Choc Fudge tonight. Got a blocked nose and cold. It’s like that strange situation wherein you can’t take a disprin despite a throbbing headache, coz u are already on paracetamol. ( You do know, dear random blog reader, that disprin and paracetamol form a lethal combo ? )
Mayur just likened me to a “Manager” (Yes, Mayur.. this blogpost is being written live with our chat..) I HATE that word. Much as I hated MBA.
Much as I hate cribbing.
Much as I DO crib.
Much as I don’t know why I am still blabbering.
Much as I dunno how to balance the themes of “Mangement”, “Compost”, and “Hormones” in two separate conversations, simultaneously. ( yeah.. yeah)
Much as …
Much as…
I wish. I wish I would stop wishing, and start doing something about everything I feel like cribbing about.
(Picks up the empty bottle and hits on her head. Doesn’t help knock her back into senses. Gives up. Stops typing.)
PS. Don’t ask me what sense does the title of the post make. Lord, I know not!
Lately, I have developed a whole new meaning/ logic in respect of Life. And it is this: It has no meaning. We spend all our lives in pursuit of some kind of meaning, justifying everything that occurs in the world around us with some cause and effect, and what’s and why’s, but it all really, really reallllllllly comes down to a big WHATEVER.
(Is now in that high-on-cold-boiled-water frame of mind - blurred vision, mindless typing)
(Drinks more water: Three more swigs. Consecutively. Feeling High-er )
No, but seriously. I have come to believe in this theory as strongly as I believe in my theory of Cyclicity of the Universe/ Life and in theory of Everything Happens For a Reason (As elaborated in one of my old blogposts – here). Everything makes sense. And everything is stupid- mindless. I know that’s totally contradictory- and yet, that’s the truth about the world- It is based on the principle of Ordered Anarchy –or Principia Discordia – the order in Chaos …. the Chaos in Order.
THAT is the Truth. And that’s the only truth.
(Is wondering if excessive cold water can damage the liver too; it seems to be impacting her brain pretty badly. Drinks some more. Feeling pukish)
It seems I have lost charge. Of my own life. And the funny thing is, I was never free-er. Right now, right here, if I want, I can change anything. Everything. But I know for a fact that I won’t. Everything seems to be going picture perfect. I hatttee appearances!! Wow, I can crib. God, you wanna put me in the malaria and poverty infested jungles of Africa maybe… and beg for mercy and display more gratitude- for everything. Instead of this self-absorbed, brattish- spoilt-kid cribbing.
(Stares blankly at her empty bottle. Domestic help has the cheek to reprimand me for not finishing my dinner. :O Has now put my bowl of curd at my desk- as if! Have been on the Hot Choc Fudge Therapy since the past 3 evenings now. Nirula’s people probably love me. Sigh- if wins over everything else in life were that easy to come by. Can’t treat myself to Hot Choc Fudge tonight. Got a blocked nose and cold. It’s like that strange situation wherein you can’t take a disprin despite a throbbing headache, coz u are already on paracetamol. ( You do know, dear random blog reader, that disprin and paracetamol form a lethal combo ? )
Mayur just likened me to a “Manager” (Yes, Mayur.. this blogpost is being written live with our chat..) I HATE that word. Much as I hated MBA.
Much as I hate cribbing.
Much as I DO crib.
Much as I don’t know why I am still blabbering.
Much as I dunno how to balance the themes of “Mangement”, “Compost”, and “Hormones” in two separate conversations, simultaneously. ( yeah.. yeah)
Much as …
Much as…
I wish. I wish I would stop wishing, and start doing something about everything I feel like cribbing about.
(Picks up the empty bottle and hits on her head. Doesn’t help knock her back into senses. Gives up. Stops typing.)
PS. Don’t ask me what sense does the title of the post make. Lord, I know not!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Office-Office
Wouldn’t you agree that the world is FULL of stereotype characters? Isn’t almost everyone you know a classic example of a stereotype you’ve always known (I say almost, coz it’s NOT ‘everyone’. Some people in our lives seem to be just soo awesome for us that we can swear by the heavens that God created them as an EXCLUSIVE sample, irreplaceable and non-replicable. Call it bias? :D )
Does not every class in school have a much annoying nerd, who has this incurable desire to sprout out all the ‘right’ answers, before anyone else- inert to the threatening-cum-disgusting looks their batchmates throw at them everytime they do that? Or the one who has this written all over their swagger: “oh-i-am-so-innately-cool-and-brainy-that-using-books—or-lectures-for-my-education-is-an-insult-to-my genius”. Or the one who is a common pain area for all profs and students alike- and yet beyond anyone’s help. How about the Miss/ Mr. Popular- the cheerleader, the captain, the brainy-yet-non-nerdy-star who scores in all fronts- looks, brains and all that jazz? And the meek, harmless one who seems to avoid teachers, classmates, studies, games-and all other activities in the school hours like plague. Like the only thing that keeps them going from one day to another- is that, “there is always a new day” – with no great plans, or hopes for the newer day. The other kids always wonder if they have a voice, or an idea, or even a life, so to speak; people donot exactly queue up to become their seat partners; and they verbally apologize when a regular vibrant kid is seated next to them (by chance) – for being too boring a company! :O :O
Anyway, so everyone we see or meet, we try and relate them to the stereotypes of people we know already. Like the zabardasti motherly aunty at work who shamelessly advises the use of “a sauna belt” (winks at CutWrists ;) ) or the colleagues who show more concern (and remedies) for your acne than your mum would–err, okay..maybe this last one ain’t a stereotypical behaviour, but an embarrassing exceptional one.
Some of you may never get to see a typical office in your lifetime ( Arps, Ritz .. Hospitals must be different from regular corporates- I am sure)
Here is a list of a few office stereotypes – only the notable ones, based on my teeny bit of industry experience so far. Disclaimer: Much of it comes from offices other than my own. Also, please treat it as trash for all practical purposes except idle entertainment.
1. Stereotype Designation: Chief Information Officer
Who they really are? The Gossip Monger– they know everything. They pride themselves on what they call their “strongly intuitive people skills”, but most of what they know is information that doesn’t really justify their paycheque. They will know more about the boss’ young daughter/son’s reportable incidents than the boss himself. They will have sinister theories on why she is wearing what she is wearing (no, she can’t *like* red – she is wearing red coz person x in cubicle ten from her has indicated a preference for red), on why you are entering/ leaving the office whenever it is you do so, why such and such person said such and such thing to such and such person, and why it did not mean just that much, but actually had such and such meaning. Oh, you name it, they know it! These days, this lot has ceased to look like the typical mummy-type aunties with clerical/ secretary-like job profiles. A Professional DNA has entered the genome- they now cite “reliable sources in the industry” for information that is more corporate than neighbourhood gossip. But who are you kidding people, a gossip is a gossip by any other name. Ditto for a rumour, even if you serve it to us on a tray labeled, “Classified MIS: Management Information systems”
2. Boss -Type I
The biggest BOSS in the office. All other bosses report to him (gladly or grudgingly). He may not be evil at all, but his very mention gets the same treatment as Voldemort’s. People talk about him in a you-know-who tone; uttering the real name is almost disrespectful; at the very least, people watch their tone while using it- lest they defile it. Some really servile, spineless ones take this hypersensitive sacredness to such an extent that you can almost visualize them touching their right and left ear everytime they mention the boss ( Much like those in the art world do for the maesteros like Ustaad XYZ khan :P )
A non evil in this type, will try his best to come across as an OH-SO-SACRED-AND-YET-CHARMINGLY-PERSONABLE-COOL-CUM-AWESOME-BOSS. They want this dual comfort – the aura of sanctity, the majesty accorded to them, so that they can totally bowl people over with how unconventionally cool, non-hierarchical, simple and democratic they actually are.
For understanding an evil in this type- please try and recall Hari Sadu from the legendary Naukri advertisement. Try and use your imagination for his other traits. Others treat him like the mad street dog, you can’t afford to silence. They think he barks without reason or purpose. And the only reason they don’t bark back is that he is influential enough bite away their jobs and professional lives.
3. BOSS Type II
Bad Boys: The Necessary Evil
"Watcha gonna do… Watcha gonna do…when they come for you?" (Bad Boys, Bad Boys *chorus*)
They’re smart, they know their job. Often, better than their bosses. And they make no secret about this. They strut, they slog and they do just about everything that the boss/business wants them to do- and more. You want them- to do the superlative stuff that they do, but you hate the guts they spill out all over the office- sometimes, just for ego-kicks. There are moments when the biggest boss may be tempted to show them the door with a GOOD RIDDANCE! But then, they wouldn’t be strutting that bad if they didn’t know that the door is not an option for them. They suffer from either or both:1. excessive egotism/ narcissism/ superiority complex, and 2. a personal anguish at the seeming “not up to the mark-ness” of all of those around them- which they feel is an unfair deal for someone as gifted as they are.
Those who like them, nothing short of love them. Those who don’t, don’t. There is no middle-of-the-road opinion for this lot.
Effective leaders, typically, they have a strong fan club in the teams they lead. But, the popularity stops there-within the team.
4. BOSS Type III
The non-terrorizing boss. People (of all shapes, sizes and capacities) can walk into his cabin for a dialogue, whenever they so wish – without fear of being persecuted, even if they donot have much personal affection regard for him or much valuable content for dialogue. The results oriented ones among this type can get the team to perform, without the use of a cane. Those with low results orientation can be the typical case of (borrowing a phrase from a consultant), “the good boss turning into the goody-goody boss”- ultimately a lost case for the boss as well as his team.
Depending on his own competency levels, this boss maybe liked, loved and respected by his high-performance team (and others) or he maybe “liked a lot” by an average-peformance team- in cases when the team’s competency levels are equal to or lower vis-à-vis the boss’. In case of subordinates who see themselves as more competent than the boss, this type of bosses can be a major failure. Coz if the team’s assessment of his low competency is true, he can neither get performance out of them, nor be able to deliver himself.
Even in case the team’s assessment is wrong, the “non terrorizing” boss, if too “soft” will never be able to dispel this notion of his already skeptical and too-arrogant-to-learn subordinates , and will find it difficult to lead his team effectively for performance- by being unable to earn their regard and audience.
5. (This is specifically in response to a friend’s query)
Stereotype Designation: Greek-God/Greek Goddess in cubicle ten from you
Erm .. sorry people, no factual data to serve as evidence for his/her existence, in any office- let alone every. But hope is eternal. If ALL the bestselling novels in the world mention him/ her – there’s got to be some grain of truth in it. Maybe it’s got to be a non-Indian office? Or maybe for this to be true, you’ve got to be the Hero/ Heroine of your little office story in the first place- whose typical morning from home to work becomes the first chapter of the novel? :D
For now, if you wanna see one, go read a silly Sidney Sheldon or the like. Your office is not the place, nope!
Okay! 7 pages already, and I haven’t covered half the stereotypes in an office. Sleepy. Will sign off. Good night and god bless.
Shruti
Does not every class in school have a much annoying nerd, who has this incurable desire to sprout out all the ‘right’ answers, before anyone else- inert to the threatening-cum-disgusting looks their batchmates throw at them everytime they do that? Or the one who has this written all over their swagger: “oh-i-am-so-innately-cool-and-brainy-that-using-books—or-lectures-for-my-education-is-an-insult-to-my genius”. Or the one who is a common pain area for all profs and students alike- and yet beyond anyone’s help. How about the Miss/ Mr. Popular- the cheerleader, the captain, the brainy-yet-non-nerdy-star who scores in all fronts- looks, brains and all that jazz? And the meek, harmless one who seems to avoid teachers, classmates, studies, games-and all other activities in the school hours like plague. Like the only thing that keeps them going from one day to another- is that, “there is always a new day” – with no great plans, or hopes for the newer day. The other kids always wonder if they have a voice, or an idea, or even a life, so to speak; people donot exactly queue up to become their seat partners; and they verbally apologize when a regular vibrant kid is seated next to them (by chance) – for being too boring a company! :O :O
Anyway, so everyone we see or meet, we try and relate them to the stereotypes of people we know already. Like the zabardasti motherly aunty at work who shamelessly advises the use of “a sauna belt” (winks at CutWrists ;) ) or the colleagues who show more concern (and remedies) for your acne than your mum would–err, okay..maybe this last one ain’t a stereotypical behaviour, but an embarrassing exceptional one.
Some of you may never get to see a typical office in your lifetime ( Arps, Ritz .. Hospitals must be different from regular corporates- I am sure)
Here is a list of a few office stereotypes – only the notable ones, based on my teeny bit of industry experience so far. Disclaimer: Much of it comes from offices other than my own. Also, please treat it as trash for all practical purposes except idle entertainment.
1. Stereotype Designation: Chief Information Officer
Who they really are? The Gossip Monger– they know everything. They pride themselves on what they call their “strongly intuitive people skills”, but most of what they know is information that doesn’t really justify their paycheque. They will know more about the boss’ young daughter/son’s reportable incidents than the boss himself. They will have sinister theories on why she is wearing what she is wearing (no, she can’t *like* red – she is wearing red coz person x in cubicle ten from her has indicated a preference for red), on why you are entering/ leaving the office whenever it is you do so, why such and such person said such and such thing to such and such person, and why it did not mean just that much, but actually had such and such meaning. Oh, you name it, they know it! These days, this lot has ceased to look like the typical mummy-type aunties with clerical/ secretary-like job profiles. A Professional DNA has entered the genome- they now cite “reliable sources in the industry” for information that is more corporate than neighbourhood gossip. But who are you kidding people, a gossip is a gossip by any other name. Ditto for a rumour, even if you serve it to us on a tray labeled, “Classified MIS: Management Information systems”
2. Boss -Type I
The biggest BOSS in the office. All other bosses report to him (gladly or grudgingly). He may not be evil at all, but his very mention gets the same treatment as Voldemort’s. People talk about him in a you-know-who tone; uttering the real name is almost disrespectful; at the very least, people watch their tone while using it- lest they defile it. Some really servile, spineless ones take this hypersensitive sacredness to such an extent that you can almost visualize them touching their right and left ear everytime they mention the boss ( Much like those in the art world do for the maesteros like Ustaad XYZ khan :P )
A non evil in this type, will try his best to come across as an OH-SO-SACRED-AND-YET-CHARMINGLY-PERSONABLE-COOL-CUM-AWESOME-BOSS. They want this dual comfort – the aura of sanctity, the majesty accorded to them, so that they can totally bowl people over with how unconventionally cool, non-hierarchical, simple and democratic they actually are.
For understanding an evil in this type- please try and recall Hari Sadu from the legendary Naukri advertisement. Try and use your imagination for his other traits. Others treat him like the mad street dog, you can’t afford to silence. They think he barks without reason or purpose. And the only reason they don’t bark back is that he is influential enough bite away their jobs and professional lives.
3. BOSS Type II
Bad Boys: The Necessary Evil
"Watcha gonna do… Watcha gonna do…when they come for you?" (Bad Boys, Bad Boys *chorus*)
They’re smart, they know their job. Often, better than their bosses. And they make no secret about this. They strut, they slog and they do just about everything that the boss/business wants them to do- and more. You want them- to do the superlative stuff that they do, but you hate the guts they spill out all over the office- sometimes, just for ego-kicks. There are moments when the biggest boss may be tempted to show them the door with a GOOD RIDDANCE! But then, they wouldn’t be strutting that bad if they didn’t know that the door is not an option for them. They suffer from either or both:1. excessive egotism/ narcissism/ superiority complex, and 2. a personal anguish at the seeming “not up to the mark-ness” of all of those around them- which they feel is an unfair deal for someone as gifted as they are.
Those who like them, nothing short of love them. Those who don’t, don’t. There is no middle-of-the-road opinion for this lot.
Effective leaders, typically, they have a strong fan club in the teams they lead. But, the popularity stops there-within the team.
4. BOSS Type III
The non-terrorizing boss. People (of all shapes, sizes and capacities) can walk into his cabin for a dialogue, whenever they so wish – without fear of being persecuted, even if they donot have much personal affection regard for him or much valuable content for dialogue. The results oriented ones among this type can get the team to perform, without the use of a cane. Those with low results orientation can be the typical case of (borrowing a phrase from a consultant), “the good boss turning into the goody-goody boss”- ultimately a lost case for the boss as well as his team.
Depending on his own competency levels, this boss maybe liked, loved and respected by his high-performance team (and others) or he maybe “liked a lot” by an average-peformance team- in cases when the team’s competency levels are equal to or lower vis-à-vis the boss’. In case of subordinates who see themselves as more competent than the boss, this type of bosses can be a major failure. Coz if the team’s assessment of his low competency is true, he can neither get performance out of them, nor be able to deliver himself.
Even in case the team’s assessment is wrong, the “non terrorizing” boss, if too “soft” will never be able to dispel this notion of his already skeptical and too-arrogant-to-learn subordinates , and will find it difficult to lead his team effectively for performance- by being unable to earn their regard and audience.
5. (This is specifically in response to a friend’s query)
Stereotype Designation: Greek-God/Greek Goddess in cubicle ten from you
Erm .. sorry people, no factual data to serve as evidence for his/her existence, in any office- let alone every. But hope is eternal. If ALL the bestselling novels in the world mention him/ her – there’s got to be some grain of truth in it. Maybe it’s got to be a non-Indian office? Or maybe for this to be true, you’ve got to be the Hero/ Heroine of your little office story in the first place- whose typical morning from home to work becomes the first chapter of the novel? :D
For now, if you wanna see one, go read a silly Sidney Sheldon or the like. Your office is not the place, nope!
Okay! 7 pages already, and I haven’t covered half the stereotypes in an office. Sleepy. Will sign off. Good night and god bless.
Shruti
Friday, March 26, 2010
Goodbyes. And Nightmares-come-true.
Updates: March 26
So obviously, this post is twin-themed. Reminds me of the similarly jumbled up stuff I had written last year (‘Of Goa, Ethics and MTNL’- people had a hard time imagining why I had put the three together- well, there was no connecting theme really. Those were all the updates then, compiled together!)
About the “Goodbyes”. Well, too many people leaving. Okay, maybe not too many. But I am just not used to people quitting jobs in a place I work. Can you blame me? This is my first job.
Today, two people quit again. One of them – well, I felt sad about news of his resignation. I was told that XYZ had put in his papers. But it was only when I saw his photograph in his green form that I realized that XYZ was someone I had observed somewhat during a recent cultural event. He was a decent, positive kind of presence. And I was disappointed. Only slightly though.
The other one was a young lady, whom I have not known intimately, but have had a few good conversations with her. And she was one good positive presence around. Someone who added the kind of culture and color to the little place, that it desperately needed and would otherwise sorely lack. And now, she’s gone :-( I am not sure how to explain this. I mean, I wouldn’t have minded if we continued to work, in neighbouring cubicles, without exchanging more than polite smiles occasionally – for weeks together. That was good enough. Just the knowledge that some ‘good’ people you kind of share a mental plane with, are around, can be so comforting.
Today, when she was bidding her goodbyes, I wanted her to stay. And we were not even ‘friends’- or even special acquaintances. We just knew each other cordially. And I did not want her to go! I wanted to give her something- some souvenir or token kinds- not sure why. Maybe just as an acknowledgement that her positive presence was appreciated. And maybe a “god bless/ All the best” kinds? I had nothing to give away of course. I scanned my office life helplessly, and suddenly discovered a small Sai Baba statue on my desk. (had once purchased it from a small kid at a traffic signal- only coz he did seem in a desperate need to sell it off. I had decided that if nothing, I could put it on my office desk- as an object of positive energy.) Instinctively, I realized that this was the moment it had actually been purchased for. What better token for a “goodbye/ godbless” kinda message? Delighted, I just picked it and handed it over to her. She was slightly taken aback I guess. (she always seemed to feel disappointed in my low social skills with cubicle neighbors such as herself, compared to the livelier previous occupant of my seat. ) But she did promise me that she will put it up on her desk in the new job. And she sounded like she meant it. :-)
Anyway, the nightmare now. about this really, really sad (disappointing/ un-appetizing/ call it what you will) discovery I made last night. Oh, add spooky to the list of adjectives there.
Ritu, you will remember this!! Back in grade 11/12, one day, I had a weird dream. And I told Ritu about it over phone the next day. This is how the dream went (still remember it vividly) I was sitting in a study/ personal library kinds. And not just “a” library mind you, a friend’s library; Neeta Spoony’s, of all people!! A library is the perhaps the last thing she would want to invest in (even in my dreams!) :P How did I know that it was her library? Well, I just knew… I knew that fact as I sat reading a book. This was a fat, red book, and here was what was happening (tears of pain/ anguish flow). I was reading the contents of Harry Potter (verbatim!) in a red book written years and years before JKR!! And as I read it (pain gnawing deeper in my heart), all that I could think of was.. “OMG .. she copied it from here.. how could she …how could she…” .. the hurt/ anger became unbearable as I read more and more ( the red book seemed to read like the Goblet of Fire – itself a reddish, fat Harry Potter. That was the thickest book in the series, by then) And then, the dream dissolved somehow, and I woke up to a beautiful reality the next morning, where my beloved JKR was not a plagiarist. The nightmare had ended. How stupid! I told myself, as I laughed sheepishly, and heaved a sigh of relief. I then shared the story with Ritu over phone (laughing over the weirdness of the theme my mind had concocted).
That was some six years back.
10:30 p.m last night. I was reading Lord of The Rings. Finally purchased it the other day, as from Meghna’s description of stuff from in there, it did seem to have a lot of HP like content that might go well with me ( and I know for a fact that movies – no matter how well made, can never do justice to the books). For days, my heart has been filled with hope and delight, as I looked at the shining, blood red fat book on my table – with anticipation of the treat that those unexplored pages held in store. It was like a godsend: almost another unread HP – what more could have I asked for!
BUT, as I read more pages last night… I grew steadily uncomfortable as I turned each page.
First, the concept of the powerful ring. Its nature, qualities etc- so strongly reminiscent of the ugly, powerful horcruxes – and the ring that kills Dumbledore!
Then, the talk of the ugly negative power that is rising again, not fully dead and (horror of horrors!), the villain being called the “Dark Lord”, who is trying to resurrect himself. And someone’s gotta stop him. Someone old and wise taking educated guesses at the whats and hows of this Dark Lord.
I mean.. COMMMEEEON!!!! Not to mention the Elvish language (I is doings whatever you says kinds).
My heart skipped beats as the similarities grew too much for comfort. Wondering for a crazy second, I was thinking, has no one else read these two books?! Could no one else tell the similarities! Has JKR ever acknowledged ‘inspiration’ from the works of J.R.R Tolkien?!! I then did what every mortal of today– idiot or intellectual, does best: I googled it up. I keyed in the following, with shivering fingers, “is harry potter inspired by lord of the rings”. And Lo! And behold. Apparently, everywhere on the internet, even on the Mecca of HP fanatics – mugglenet.com, the similarities have been discussed and debated in greatest detail. Fans point it out as mere ‘similarities’, which they don’t fret too much about. Whereas, JKR bashers accuse her to be a plagiarist with double standards: being so particular about protecting her own intellectual property rights over everything HP, but having shamelessly ‘lifted’ concepts from here and there herself- without acknowledgment of the ‘inspiration’. (it hurts even to type this opinion as academically as possible!). Reminds me of that fateful night in Kota (during my initial induction days) when I had seen the JKR – plagiarism controversy bit on news: the claim that she had lifted heavily from Wily The Wizard by Adrian Jacobs. I remember almost running out of talktime on my cell, discussing the heartbreaking controversy with Arps. The controversy died, didn’t it? JKR *is* no ordinary writer, it seems. The lady is much more smart and clear headed than a layman would imagine the creator of a ‘kids’ fiction nove’ to be!
Anyway, the bottomline being: the issue of LOTR and H.P is already well- known and debated in the public space. Theories hold while there are definite parallels- it seems that the concept of sorcery and other creatures etc has been abundantly explored in literature- leading to the evolution of certain common concepts, which have been used, time and again by different authors. Hence, in a way, anyone can be said to have lifted from someone else. I am not sure if that’s a clean moral chit for JKR. I just want to hope that it is. Reminded me of that 17 year old Indian writer girl in U.S- who wrote the much famous (and later, infamous) book, How Opal Mehta Got Drunk, Got Wild and Got a Life. How a much hyped and publicized accusation of plagiarism ruined the career of a promising young writer.
But these controversies donot impact the big fish much. And JKR is a big fish alright. A good fish too though :)
Okay, I guess all ideas we come across in life inspire us somehow or the other. Besides, JKR’s work is too good. Many of us owe a lot of beautiful memories of our growing years to her. And nothing can take that away.
(*small voice in head*… though I do wish she will acknowledge all that there is to acknowledge with respect to her inspirations! )
Anywho, this incident of a dream-coming-true nature did excite me a little bit. I do have some untapped supernatural powers. Ha! :D
Will get back to LOTR now.
Ciao.
So obviously, this post is twin-themed. Reminds me of the similarly jumbled up stuff I had written last year (‘Of Goa, Ethics and MTNL’- people had a hard time imagining why I had put the three together- well, there was no connecting theme really. Those were all the updates then, compiled together!)
About the “Goodbyes”. Well, too many people leaving. Okay, maybe not too many. But I am just not used to people quitting jobs in a place I work. Can you blame me? This is my first job.
Today, two people quit again. One of them – well, I felt sad about news of his resignation. I was told that XYZ had put in his papers. But it was only when I saw his photograph in his green form that I realized that XYZ was someone I had observed somewhat during a recent cultural event. He was a decent, positive kind of presence. And I was disappointed. Only slightly though.
The other one was a young lady, whom I have not known intimately, but have had a few good conversations with her. And she was one good positive presence around. Someone who added the kind of culture and color to the little place, that it desperately needed and would otherwise sorely lack. And now, she’s gone :-( I am not sure how to explain this. I mean, I wouldn’t have minded if we continued to work, in neighbouring cubicles, without exchanging more than polite smiles occasionally – for weeks together. That was good enough. Just the knowledge that some ‘good’ people you kind of share a mental plane with, are around, can be so comforting.
Today, when she was bidding her goodbyes, I wanted her to stay. And we were not even ‘friends’- or even special acquaintances. We just knew each other cordially. And I did not want her to go! I wanted to give her something- some souvenir or token kinds- not sure why. Maybe just as an acknowledgement that her positive presence was appreciated. And maybe a “god bless/ All the best” kinds? I had nothing to give away of course. I scanned my office life helplessly, and suddenly discovered a small Sai Baba statue on my desk. (had once purchased it from a small kid at a traffic signal- only coz he did seem in a desperate need to sell it off. I had decided that if nothing, I could put it on my office desk- as an object of positive energy.) Instinctively, I realized that this was the moment it had actually been purchased for. What better token for a “goodbye/ godbless” kinda message? Delighted, I just picked it and handed it over to her. She was slightly taken aback I guess. (she always seemed to feel disappointed in my low social skills with cubicle neighbors such as herself, compared to the livelier previous occupant of my seat. ) But she did promise me that she will put it up on her desk in the new job. And she sounded like she meant it. :-)
Anyway, the nightmare now. about this really, really sad (disappointing/ un-appetizing/ call it what you will) discovery I made last night. Oh, add spooky to the list of adjectives there.
Ritu, you will remember this!! Back in grade 11/12, one day, I had a weird dream. And I told Ritu about it over phone the next day. This is how the dream went (still remember it vividly) I was sitting in a study/ personal library kinds. And not just “a” library mind you, a friend’s library; Neeta Spoony’s, of all people!! A library is the perhaps the last thing she would want to invest in (even in my dreams!) :P How did I know that it was her library? Well, I just knew… I knew that fact as I sat reading a book. This was a fat, red book, and here was what was happening (tears of pain/ anguish flow). I was reading the contents of Harry Potter (verbatim!) in a red book written years and years before JKR!! And as I read it (pain gnawing deeper in my heart), all that I could think of was.. “OMG .. she copied it from here.. how could she …how could she…” .. the hurt/ anger became unbearable as I read more and more ( the red book seemed to read like the Goblet of Fire – itself a reddish, fat Harry Potter. That was the thickest book in the series, by then) And then, the dream dissolved somehow, and I woke up to a beautiful reality the next morning, where my beloved JKR was not a plagiarist. The nightmare had ended. How stupid! I told myself, as I laughed sheepishly, and heaved a sigh of relief. I then shared the story with Ritu over phone (laughing over the weirdness of the theme my mind had concocted).
That was some six years back.
10:30 p.m last night. I was reading Lord of The Rings. Finally purchased it the other day, as from Meghna’s description of stuff from in there, it did seem to have a lot of HP like content that might go well with me ( and I know for a fact that movies – no matter how well made, can never do justice to the books). For days, my heart has been filled with hope and delight, as I looked at the shining, blood red fat book on my table – with anticipation of the treat that those unexplored pages held in store. It was like a godsend: almost another unread HP – what more could have I asked for!
BUT, as I read more pages last night… I grew steadily uncomfortable as I turned each page.
First, the concept of the powerful ring. Its nature, qualities etc- so strongly reminiscent of the ugly, powerful horcruxes – and the ring that kills Dumbledore!
Then, the talk of the ugly negative power that is rising again, not fully dead and (horror of horrors!), the villain being called the “Dark Lord”, who is trying to resurrect himself. And someone’s gotta stop him. Someone old and wise taking educated guesses at the whats and hows of this Dark Lord.
I mean.. COMMMEEEON!!!! Not to mention the Elvish language (I is doings whatever you says kinds).
My heart skipped beats as the similarities grew too much for comfort. Wondering for a crazy second, I was thinking, has no one else read these two books?! Could no one else tell the similarities! Has JKR ever acknowledged ‘inspiration’ from the works of J.R.R Tolkien?!! I then did what every mortal of today– idiot or intellectual, does best: I googled it up. I keyed in the following, with shivering fingers, “is harry potter inspired by lord of the rings”. And Lo! And behold. Apparently, everywhere on the internet, even on the Mecca of HP fanatics – mugglenet.com, the similarities have been discussed and debated in greatest detail. Fans point it out as mere ‘similarities’, which they don’t fret too much about. Whereas, JKR bashers accuse her to be a plagiarist with double standards: being so particular about protecting her own intellectual property rights over everything HP, but having shamelessly ‘lifted’ concepts from here and there herself- without acknowledgment of the ‘inspiration’. (it hurts even to type this opinion as academically as possible!). Reminds me of that fateful night in Kota (during my initial induction days) when I had seen the JKR – plagiarism controversy bit on news: the claim that she had lifted heavily from Wily The Wizard by Adrian Jacobs. I remember almost running out of talktime on my cell, discussing the heartbreaking controversy with Arps. The controversy died, didn’t it? JKR *is* no ordinary writer, it seems. The lady is much more smart and clear headed than a layman would imagine the creator of a ‘kids’ fiction nove’ to be!
Anyway, the bottomline being: the issue of LOTR and H.P is already well- known and debated in the public space. Theories hold while there are definite parallels- it seems that the concept of sorcery and other creatures etc has been abundantly explored in literature- leading to the evolution of certain common concepts, which have been used, time and again by different authors. Hence, in a way, anyone can be said to have lifted from someone else. I am not sure if that’s a clean moral chit for JKR. I just want to hope that it is. Reminded me of that 17 year old Indian writer girl in U.S- who wrote the much famous (and later, infamous) book, How Opal Mehta Got Drunk, Got Wild and Got a Life. How a much hyped and publicized accusation of plagiarism ruined the career of a promising young writer.
But these controversies donot impact the big fish much. And JKR is a big fish alright. A good fish too though :)
Okay, I guess all ideas we come across in life inspire us somehow or the other. Besides, JKR’s work is too good. Many of us owe a lot of beautiful memories of our growing years to her. And nothing can take that away.
(*small voice in head*… though I do wish she will acknowledge all that there is to acknowledge with respect to her inspirations! )
Anywho, this incident of a dream-coming-true nature did excite me a little bit. I do have some untapped supernatural powers. Ha! :D
Will get back to LOTR now.
Ciao.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Life
Each one of us, has a stopwatch to our name,
Once it hits ‘start’, thus begins the game.
Every second clocked, brings you closer to time-out,
There is no room for cheating, no rules to bend or flout.
For, I may do whatever, as my seconds tick by,
I may build a whole world, make people laugh and cry;
I may pile and pile my dreams, and paint my thoughts all bright,
I may flag the highest peak- do whatever one might.
But, all this while, my clock times my stay,
It won’t stop or slow down, do whatever I may!
My dear ones will try, to make its hand hold,
And snatch some extra seconds; to tell me things untold,
But nothing will stop the clock, as its little hand moves on,
For does the sun skip the dusk, or does it miss a dawn?
My ten minutes of life, are just a cog in a Giant Wheel-
The wheel that moves the universe, with no care to think or feel.
Once my ten minutes are up, the cog that’s me- moves out,
Coz a new cog must fit in, sans a second’s delay or doubt.
When the stopwatch with my name, made the last stroke,
Another’s made stroke one- Just as I slept, he awoke;
Nothing changed in the universe- the giant wheel moved on,
Though, they all spared some seconds, to note that my cog was gone…
They wept tears to my name, until they had no more to give,
Their stopwatch beeped alarm: x minutes for them to live!!
And the cogs that they were- went back to rolling on and on,
Minutes later, they had bigger issues- than to grieve that I was gone.
Now and then, they’d remember me: ‘the cog that fit right there!’,
And how it had moved The Wheel- I’d get my credit’s due share.
And of course, how good a cog I’d been- would count a fair bit,
But, I would still remain just a Cog-in-the-Wheel- that’s it!
Is something wrong with this model? Is this God’s great plan?
Is this all that he designed- when he gave life to Man?
What about all our tears, all laughter, and all our dreams?
What becomes of all our thoughts, our silent prayers and our screams?
Do none of those matter? Do they add up to a naught?
Is human life, a castle of cards, to be blown apart in a shot?
Is there something not right? Is something about this unfair?
Maybe we’re just to cherish, their ten minutes that were there.
God bless!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Punctuations!
An SMS received recently (in response to my suggestion of scheduling a meeting the next day)
“Tomorrow is bad dysfunctional Shruti. I will be occupied with a client from Singapore..”
Clearly, the lack of punctuation marks leaves a lot to interpretation and imagination. Especially with regard to the usage of words “bad” and “dysfunctional” – I wondered whether these adjectives were used to describe tomorrow or Shruti.
I figured the following possible intended messages:
“Tomorrow is, bad dysfunctional Shruti…**a description of his plans of the morrow, having established the fact that Shruti is bad and dysfunctional**”
“Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional Shruti… **an explanation to the very dysfunctional shruti, as to why the morrow is bad for a meeting**”
Of course, in heart of hearts, I’d like to think, it was tomorrow that was being berated as bad and dysfunctional (Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional, Shruti). But, *Sigh* knowing the sender, and knowing his knowledge of me, can I cross my heart on that? ;)
“Tomorrow is bad dysfunctional Shruti. I will be occupied with a client from Singapore..”
Clearly, the lack of punctuation marks leaves a lot to interpretation and imagination. Especially with regard to the usage of words “bad” and “dysfunctional” – I wondered whether these adjectives were used to describe tomorrow or Shruti.
I figured the following possible intended messages:
“Tomorrow is, bad dysfunctional Shruti…**a description of his plans of the morrow, having established the fact that Shruti is bad and dysfunctional**”
“Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional Shruti… **an explanation to the very dysfunctional shruti, as to why the morrow is bad for a meeting**”
Of course, in heart of hearts, I’d like to think, it was tomorrow that was being berated as bad and dysfunctional (Tomorrow is bad, dysfunctional, Shruti). But, *Sigh* knowing the sender, and knowing his knowledge of me, can I cross my heart on that? ;)
Saturday, January 30, 2010
I need a new, blue Pen.
Scene:
Lights shut out almost everywhere but one cabin in the office: The ‘Aych Are’ One. Me sitting in another typical meeting with the Seniormost HR Boss, ready to have like a Zillion questions answered (Yeah, now even he knows my queries are always something like a Zillion. But if you tell them, it’s a zillion, they won’t entertain you in the first place – so when seeking an appointment, I always term it as, a ‘few issues to be discussed”- and as our discussion progresses, I not-so-cleverly keep appending “one-more-thing” to the list. He has now Christened me One-More-Thing, a feeble joke which he good-naturedly shared with his deputy- an aunty whose response to my physical manifestation in her vicinity is met with- a wince, a blind-eye, and a polite, cold smile- in that order. Needless to state, her response to the joke was a hesitant “mmmm.. haa haa”- a rather poor attempt at camouflaging her real sentiments towards me (read: telepathic-murder))
Back to the meeting: All my papers, files, notes – were all in place ( *sigh* I am forced to be kinda well-organized now, coz I guess it doesn’t augur well for other people’s patience, when I take up 10 minutes out of 15 in sifting through sheets and sheets of paper, trying to dig out the relevant one. No, no one has really complained about it. I just figured that my un-corporate ways are a cause of major embarrassment to many co-workers- associated directly -and unavoidably- with me. ).
So, I take up issues one by one ..and get into furious notemaking.
Boss- talking in full flow, rather abruptly, lets out a gasp of surprise, “Ma’am, your pen’s leaking!”
Me: (Studying my hands curiously) “Yeah..” (flashing a sheepish hee-hee-tell-me-about-it grin to him) … “It’s been leaking since morning.”
Boss: (blinks at my blood-stained hands. Yeah, did I mention the pen was a Red one?) “Why do you use a Red pen, ma’am?”
Now, this was really asked in a manner of sincere curiosity. I was perhaps expected to furnish some response that would attribute such inappropriate choice of ink for a meeting, to some sound personal philosophy, or signature style. Hope is eternal, remember? I could imagine him telling his tender heart ( much in the all izzz welll manner) … “there’s got to be some rational explanation. We chose well. Can’t have made a mistake in recruiting her, no.”
Talk about denial :P
What could I say? Why was I using a red pen? (let’s not mention the leaking bit of it for a while, just the INKing- Shocking Blood Red!)
‘Sir, red is the color of Blood. Blood is symbolic of thriving life. I am alive- and expression in red ink is my celebration of that fact.
Aren’t you proud of how vibrant, brimming with life, I am?’
OR
‘Sir, red is the heart. Heart fosters Love. Ergo, Red is Love. Valentine’s day coming up.. u know? I’m leaking with looouuuv for my office-kind’.
Me: “Noo.. I don’t use a red pen. I am just using one toay- coz I couldn’t find any other.”
Note: Seriously. As usual, I have mysteriously lost or broken ALL my decent pens- official and personal. I had none which would have both of the attributes- a solid body, and flowing ink- Enough to let me write with it.
Boss: “Ohkayy…”( in a tone of confused disappointment)
Interestingly, I just discovered how the words I use in a manner of casual explanation, can have unanticipated consequences/ impact.
While conveying our supplier’s message (in effect, quoting his response), I said something to the effect that he had added some xyz clause to “disincentivise” such and such thing.
Boss: (finding the latter’s response unreasonable, responding in an I’ll-see-him-in-the-court tone ) “…what does he mean, he wants ‘to disincentivise’ it..“
Me: (damage control) “Er.. Sir, he didn’t use the word ‘disincentivise’! I used it – to explain what he said!”
Again, don’t sue me. I know that the word ‘disincentivize’ perhaps does not exist in the dictionary. It’s one of those home-made terms that I use to support my expression. And I like it :D
Boss: (mellowing down..) ..
Me: (Feeling guilty that I’d unwittingly misquoted the bloke) – “Yessir, he was merely making a point that this policy of theirs is to serve as a deterrent to such-and-such-thing.”
Boss: (testing smile) “Did he say “deterrent”, Shruti?” ( In an I’ll-use-your-statement-in-the-court-of-law tone)
Me: (another sheepish grin)- “Nope. That’s Me again.”
(finally deciding to shut up, as all my verbal arguments were only hurting his cause further)
Need I mention that my hands got bloodier as the discussion progressed? When the Meeting ended, I did look like someone who had committed a full fledged murder with naked hands.
Boss: “Ma’am, your pen IS leaking!”
How does this parting remark help, Sire? Hadn’t we established this fact already? **
Me ( using my red fingers to carefully pick up the contract papers I had got initialized by him, and which could not be blood- stained when presented for signatures before the Senior-er Boss.):
“Yessir. I ..will.. take ..care of it.”
I am not made for neat places. Seriously.
** In F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Susan, Ross’ ex-wife’s partner effectively summed up the futility of repeating some unpleasant fact -in denial. Once, when Ross’ ex-wife has recently had their baby, the conversation veers to breast milk. When Phoebe, and Susan display knowledge with regards to its taste,
Ross- appalled- repeats furiously… “You’ve tasted it? You’ve tasted it… oh.. You’ve tasted it..!”
Susan (enjoying the moment with a smug calmness) : “You know you can keep saying that, but it won’t stop being true!”
Lights shut out almost everywhere but one cabin in the office: The ‘Aych Are’ One. Me sitting in another typical meeting with the Seniormost HR Boss, ready to have like a Zillion questions answered (Yeah, now even he knows my queries are always something like a Zillion. But if you tell them, it’s a zillion, they won’t entertain you in the first place – so when seeking an appointment, I always term it as, a ‘few issues to be discussed”- and as our discussion progresses, I not-so-cleverly keep appending “one-more-thing” to the list. He has now Christened me One-More-Thing, a feeble joke which he good-naturedly shared with his deputy- an aunty whose response to my physical manifestation in her vicinity is met with- a wince, a blind-eye, and a polite, cold smile- in that order. Needless to state, her response to the joke was a hesitant “mmmm.. haa haa”- a rather poor attempt at camouflaging her real sentiments towards me (read: telepathic-murder))
Back to the meeting: All my papers, files, notes – were all in place ( *sigh* I am forced to be kinda well-organized now, coz I guess it doesn’t augur well for other people’s patience, when I take up 10 minutes out of 15 in sifting through sheets and sheets of paper, trying to dig out the relevant one. No, no one has really complained about it. I just figured that my un-corporate ways are a cause of major embarrassment to many co-workers- associated directly -and unavoidably- with me. ).
So, I take up issues one by one ..and get into furious notemaking.
Boss- talking in full flow, rather abruptly, lets out a gasp of surprise, “Ma’am, your pen’s leaking!”
Me: (Studying my hands curiously) “Yeah..” (flashing a sheepish hee-hee-tell-me-about-it grin to him) … “It’s been leaking since morning.”
Boss: (blinks at my blood-stained hands. Yeah, did I mention the pen was a Red one?) “Why do you use a Red pen, ma’am?”
Now, this was really asked in a manner of sincere curiosity. I was perhaps expected to furnish some response that would attribute such inappropriate choice of ink for a meeting, to some sound personal philosophy, or signature style. Hope is eternal, remember? I could imagine him telling his tender heart ( much in the all izzz welll manner) … “there’s got to be some rational explanation. We chose well. Can’t have made a mistake in recruiting her, no.”
Talk about denial :P
What could I say? Why was I using a red pen? (let’s not mention the leaking bit of it for a while, just the INKing- Shocking Blood Red!)
‘Sir, red is the color of Blood. Blood is symbolic of thriving life. I am alive- and expression in red ink is my celebration of that fact.
Aren’t you proud of how vibrant, brimming with life, I am?’
OR
‘Sir, red is the heart. Heart fosters Love. Ergo, Red is Love. Valentine’s day coming up.. u know? I’m leaking with looouuuv for my office-kind’.
Me: “Noo.. I don’t use a red pen. I am just using one toay- coz I couldn’t find any other.”
Note: Seriously. As usual, I have mysteriously lost or broken ALL my decent pens- official and personal. I had none which would have both of the attributes- a solid body, and flowing ink- Enough to let me write with it.
Boss: “Ohkayy…”( in a tone of confused disappointment)
Interestingly, I just discovered how the words I use in a manner of casual explanation, can have unanticipated consequences/ impact.
While conveying our supplier’s message (in effect, quoting his response), I said something to the effect that he had added some xyz clause to “disincentivise” such and such thing.
Boss: (finding the latter’s response unreasonable, responding in an I’ll-see-him-in-the-court tone ) “…what does he mean, he wants ‘to disincentivise’ it..“
Me: (damage control) “Er.. Sir, he didn’t use the word ‘disincentivise’! I used it – to explain what he said!”
Again, don’t sue me. I know that the word ‘disincentivize’ perhaps does not exist in the dictionary. It’s one of those home-made terms that I use to support my expression. And I like it :D
Boss: (mellowing down..) ..
Me: (Feeling guilty that I’d unwittingly misquoted the bloke) – “Yessir, he was merely making a point that this policy of theirs is to serve as a deterrent to such-and-such-thing.”
Boss: (testing smile) “Did he say “deterrent”, Shruti?” ( In an I’ll-use-your-statement-in-the-court-of-law tone)
Me: (another sheepish grin)- “Nope. That’s Me again.”
(finally deciding to shut up, as all my verbal arguments were only hurting his cause further)
Need I mention that my hands got bloodier as the discussion progressed? When the Meeting ended, I did look like someone who had committed a full fledged murder with naked hands.
Boss: “Ma’am, your pen IS leaking!”
How does this parting remark help, Sire? Hadn’t we established this fact already? **
Me ( using my red fingers to carefully pick up the contract papers I had got initialized by him, and which could not be blood- stained when presented for signatures before the Senior-er Boss.):
“Yessir. I ..will.. take ..care of it.”
I am not made for neat places. Seriously.
** In F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Susan, Ross’ ex-wife’s partner effectively summed up the futility of repeating some unpleasant fact -in denial. Once, when Ross’ ex-wife has recently had their baby, the conversation veers to breast milk. When Phoebe, and Susan display knowledge with regards to its taste,
Ross- appalled- repeats furiously… “You’ve tasted it? You’ve tasted it… oh.. You’ve tasted it..!”
Susan (enjoying the moment with a smug calmness) : “You know you can keep saying that, but it won’t stop being true!”
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