Handling Irritants - A case study.

Day in and day out, one comes across people who know only to irritate and break the hell loose out of the mildest of human beings. I don’t know the intentions behind this category of homo sapiens, but any argument they raise will be futile at all given circumstances. Here are certain tips on how to bring that curve on your lips back, instead of tearing your hair.



Scenario1: You have just got some information from an onsite call, and need to close an urgent ticket within an hour. You rush from the conference room to your workstation, grab a chair and start flipping through screens. Suddenly the irritant appears from nowhere and says, ‘Hey how come you always take my chair’. At the back of your mind you want to bang the chair on his head. But here is the tip. ‘Hey, I am sorry I took your chair, but evidently, I was in a hurry, and have so much work that I couldn’t measure the size and shape of it before sitting on it’.

Advantages:

1. You said sorry and apologized.

2. You have made a point that you are busy, and he is the one making fuss over a chair.

3. You win. He is speechless.

Scenario2: Some girls cannot even stand it, if another wears a new dress, or if they just got married. They also tend to say green-with-jealousy stuff like, ‘So what if that is a new dress.. I had one like that two years back.’ This statement usually gives them heavenly bliss. Another typical statement is, ‘Hi, did I tell you that I have an aunt who looks just like you?’. Boys please stop reading here. Girls, please continue. This is a rather twisted statement. The person who said this obviously couldn’t contain their jealousy at your dress, purse, car, haircut. So they want to attain satisfaction by saying that you look like an aunt. Just immediately say, ‘Is it? I think you have put on so much weight than I saw you last time’. If that was a girl, You Win without leaving any traces of her!

Scenario3: At office irritants can come in the form of managers, Leads, colleagues, subordinates or security guys. Well, just keep smiling and never let it go. There is no way out than to grudge and grumble within, still smile and make a statement outside.


Scenario4: Someone makes fun of you in a totally unreasonable manner. Or even has the courage to say something about you referencing your parents too. You want to kill them on the spot. But don’t.
Tip – Say , ‘My parents taught me not to make fun of others or say a tit-for-tat. Hmm..They had a point’. The rivals may laugh, but here are the advantages.

1. You portray a good image of yourself and your parents and exhibit aristocracy.

2. You say indirectly what their parents taught them ( I love this point ).

3. You win again, as no one has no reason to complain. You dint say anything, right!


Scenario5: Someone makes fun of your appearance, hair, height. If you are married, say, ‘Oh my, how much you care for me…Even my husband/wife dint notice that..!’. This could obviously leave the irritant hunting for words.
If you are unmarried, say, ‘I wish I was perfect, like you’ with a smirk and a laugh. This always works, in all given situations. You always win in this, unless it is Hema Malini or Sridevi who is talking to you.

Top ten husband myths.

Here are a few husband / boyfriend / prospective groom myths. I hope any girl reading this would agree with me, and any broad minded guy would admit/laugh/nod/ at it.  Here is to you, guys :)

Myth1: If a woman overtakes him on the road, then it is a potential threat to masculinity.


Myth2: To stay in her house for more than a day would mean that he is henpecked.

(‘Sorry Mom, we will come again for Christmas..this time we really have to go back as my dog is not well and it has to be taken to the Vet’)

Myth3: That making comparison of her cooking to that of his Mom’s would help her love his Mom even more.

“You know… my Mom makes fish curry like….’ AAARGH! ( That dialogue nullifies appettite. Cooking is not in the picture anymore. Sure everyone knows what kind of comments those statements invite)

Myth4: Washed, sun dried crisp clothes will be in the wardrobe whether she is here or not. The biggest myth of all times.

Myth5: Apparel shopping is more boring than being in the science section of the British Library.

‘Please go with your friends. I am not well’

Myth6: Hrithik is not all that sexy. He is just ‘okay’.

‘Oh whats there to admire about..he is tall..and dances well…that’s it’ (Very very typical)

Myth7: We can always get a fresh pair of socks, even if one of it was put to laundry and the other is still inside the shoe.

Myth8: Her dad is not all that smart.

Myth9: My mother never talks like that! Women really cook up stuff.

Myth10: Gossiping? Thats what women do!

( Do yo guys really discuss about Mamta Banerjee and Sonia Gandhi at smoking zones?)

Rewinding to those lovely days again.

Well, one of my friends who called marriage ‘legal prostitution’ recently got married, and I am totally happy that finally she did. Ironically it was a love marriage and I wonder whether it was so huge enough even to inspire Chetan Bhagat (Two States!). She was one crazy non-vegetarian "Brahmin girl", who would go to such extent as to catch fish from my fish tank at home for lunch. Her near and dear don’t have any idea about this, as she carries a factory of mint in her bag and always smells of fresh veggies ( and sometimes of stale ones).


Innumerable school day memories always come rushing to my head, when I am not thinking of something crazy (which doesn’t happen too often). I still remember the teacher who hated me, another, who actually loved me like she would her daughter. If only I could wind back time. At school whatever mischief I got into, however big a hurdle befell me, I knew Papa would be there for me. Sometimes it was to squeeze my ears in front of my teachers, but still he would buy me Frooti on the way back home, as a sign of apology. And back home, Mummy would be there, supporting me even if I was wrong (but never if the grades are low).

Now my Mom bakes cocoa cakes like no other in the country. My friends would come home and attack the cake seconds after it is taken from the oven. In a few minutes, it would look like a mountain of brown rice, and we would be uncivilized barbarians, until not even a tiny morsel is left . Even today, I cant properly make chocolate milk, given milk, sugar and chocolate cream or if I did, the kitchen would look like a war zone. Only God knows how she makes those little brown pieces of heaven.

Days passed and Papa showed signs of diabetes. So it was my turn to play ‘Papa’. I would give the cold ‘how-dare-you’ stare at wedding lunches when the caterers come to serve ice cream. Papa would look at me like a lamb and I would finally yield to a small spoon of ice cream to taste. Mummy is lucky enough not to have diabetes history in her family, but rejects even a spoon of it ( 'Papa's food, is poison for Mummy), as she thinks it would change her voice and  made to sing ‘bass’ with other men in the choir.

I also used to be in that choir.


Which is not funny if any of you are laughing.

Breathing an air of disgust..

At this point of time, I personify annoyance. I remain pissed off. I stay aloof from what you call, LIFE. I can’t say what it is, over here, as some futile concerns have saturated the air around me. I do not hope for a better outcome. I do not wish for it. During subtle breaks from intense displeasure, I still thank God for being born in the perfect family, and having the best people in my innermost circle.


Somehow, I am not able to explain the state of affairs going on. It is unjust and mean. However I do not want to reveal it, as I know that there are people who actually rejoice at my sorrow. I have been nagging,  and touchy with my sis and better half who are well aware of my situation , but the issue continues to depress me in all its glory. It is stealing away good times. It is haunting me day in, day out. I am shaken and insecure. I am apprehensive and have forgotten the good things around. I just ceased to see the blue of the sky. Everything appears in black, white and gray to me.

It is just the tough getting going. It is temporary. It is huge as it passes.
God, I know you are reading this. Please help me stand the pain.