Everyone loves compliments and I am no exception. But there are some compliments that I believe are designed solely to make you feel good for the moment but are actually insults in disguise. And I seem to be getting more of these as time goes by.
“Hey, you look great today” said a colleague and I felt nice about it and thanked him.
But then I thought “Wait a minute, I look good today ?. As opposed to what ?, all these years when I looked like crap, huh ? !!!”. Now I don’t talk to that colleague anymore.
I really feel sorry for the ladies who get far more compliments than guys.
Remember, all compliments are always in comparison to your normal self. So if someone tells you “Hey, you look lovely in that dress”. It may sound nice but what it actually means is that you normally look hideous in all other outfits but somehow this particular dress makes you look lovely which is so surprising that I actually had to tell you about it.
This is when you slap the person who said that.
Infact, I think it is better to make a frank insult than a deceptive compliment. For example, a few days ago, I was showing a few photos from a last year’s trip to a couple of people at work. And one of them with all seriousness said “You look good in those photos, I can’t believe that you have changed so much in one year. What happened ?”
As surprised that I was by this unfiltered expression of opinion (‘truth’ would probably be a better word but I will stick to ‘opinion’, alright), I was still able to have a good laugh at it.
Thankfully, the uglier I seem to have got, the better my sense of humor seems to have become. Extrapolating it further, this means that the day people begin laughing uncontrollably at my blog posts is the day when I shall have to start walking around with a towel over face
The moral of the story is that compliments are far more insidious than what they seem. I would any day prefer an honest insult to a sinister compliment. It’s another matter that most of the times, I can’t even tell the difference.
So if you really want to make me feel good, just tell me something like “What’s wrong with you today, this post is so ordinary”. Now, that’s what I call a compliment.
But if somehow you actually think this post is funny, then I guess it is towel time for me...
Friday, September 26, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
The silver lining
“Oh, your hair is turning grey. I think you should get married now”
I am beginning to get this comment increasingly these days. I really don’t understand what the connection is!!. Ok, so I get married and my wife is somehow going to turn my hair black again ?. It’s as if women have these amazing remedies that they are going to tell you only after you marry them.
“Dear, now that I took the advice of people about my receding hairline and got married, tell me how to grow it all back ?”
“Sorry honey, I just know the secret to making your paunch vanish”
“Damn, I should have married your sister instead”
And do you know what’s worse than being single with graying hair ? - Being a single * Indian * with graying hair. Because in India, if you are single then it is a free pass for everyone to ask you about it without any hesitation. Marriage and money are the two most common questions that you have to deal with, the only criteria is that the other person must be older than you. I have been asked by total strangers on the bus about how much salary I make, whether I am married and why not. Unfortunately for me, none of these strangers were good looking, single or female.
The other big trouble is when you have to attend social events like your cousin’s wedding. Here everyone and their aunt (especially their aunt) would want to know when you are getting married. And this being the land of arranged marriages, each aunt knows this one girl who is ideal wife material (whatever that is). I usually tell them that I would not want to marry any girl who is willing to marry me (come on, that’s poor judgment right there and I am looking for someone smarter than that). But that does not deter the aunt one bit in her efforts to convince me and more often than not, I am on the look out for an escape route like the door, the fire escape, the kitchen sink...whatever. I just want to get away from there. These are some of the times when I desperately wish for a telemarketing call on my mobile.
“Hello Sir, this is Manjula calling from StanChart bank, would you be interested in our credit card ?”
“Thank you, thank you so much lady. Oh boy, Am I glad to hear your voice. You are a life saver. You are my guardian angel. I am so luc...”
“Umm...Sir, on second thoughts, I don’t think we want you to have our card and we won’t call you again” [click]
I wonder why I don’t get too many telemarketing calls these days. I suspect Manjula has probably told all her friends in other call centers about me. So that makes me the only person who has officially been blacklisted by all telemarketers. I can understand that but I do feel somewhat offended that even the male telemarketers have stopped calling and that is just plain mean on their part. After all, who knows I may need that credit card or that personal loan sometime, in case I do get married.
But until such time, I need a remedy....got dye, anyone ?
I am beginning to get this comment increasingly these days. I really don’t understand what the connection is!!. Ok, so I get married and my wife is somehow going to turn my hair black again ?. It’s as if women have these amazing remedies that they are going to tell you only after you marry them.
“Dear, now that I took the advice of people about my receding hairline and got married, tell me how to grow it all back ?”
“Sorry honey, I just know the secret to making your paunch vanish”
“Damn, I should have married your sister instead”
And do you know what’s worse than being single with graying hair ? - Being a single * Indian * with graying hair. Because in India, if you are single then it is a free pass for everyone to ask you about it without any hesitation. Marriage and money are the two most common questions that you have to deal with, the only criteria is that the other person must be older than you. I have been asked by total strangers on the bus about how much salary I make, whether I am married and why not. Unfortunately for me, none of these strangers were good looking, single or female.
The other big trouble is when you have to attend social events like your cousin’s wedding. Here everyone and their aunt (especially their aunt) would want to know when you are getting married. And this being the land of arranged marriages, each aunt knows this one girl who is ideal wife material (whatever that is). I usually tell them that I would not want to marry any girl who is willing to marry me (come on, that’s poor judgment right there and I am looking for someone smarter than that). But that does not deter the aunt one bit in her efforts to convince me and more often than not, I am on the look out for an escape route like the door, the fire escape, the kitchen sink...whatever. I just want to get away from there. These are some of the times when I desperately wish for a telemarketing call on my mobile.
“Hello Sir, this is Manjula calling from StanChart bank, would you be interested in our credit card ?”
“Thank you, thank you so much lady. Oh boy, Am I glad to hear your voice. You are a life saver. You are my guardian angel. I am so luc...”
“Umm...Sir, on second thoughts, I don’t think we want you to have our card and we won’t call you again” [click]
I wonder why I don’t get too many telemarketing calls these days. I suspect Manjula has probably told all her friends in other call centers about me. So that makes me the only person who has officially been blacklisted by all telemarketers. I can understand that but I do feel somewhat offended that even the male telemarketers have stopped calling and that is just plain mean on their part. After all, who knows I may need that credit card or that personal loan sometime, in case I do get married.
But until such time, I need a remedy....got dye, anyone ?
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Click Click
For many years now, I have had a burning desire to discover my latent photography skills. Ok, maybe ‘burning’ is too strong a word; let’s say lukewarm tending towards hot. So I bought a digital SLR camera last week. My inspiration has been these fabulous shots of birds that I find on the net. I have always wanted to shoot pictures like those. Of course, being an avid bird watcher with a keen eye for spotting birds, it makes even more sense to buy one.
“Ah !!, that’s an adolescent Greater Coucal or...a crow. Darn it, that’s a cow”
Alright, my bird identification skills need a little more work. A few more days and I will be able to figure out the birds from the animals. But that is no way a reflection of my need for a camera. Like I said I finally bought one having saved enough money over the last several years and having promised the shopkeeper to do his dishes in lieu of the rest of the cost as the damn thing costs a fortune. And for that money, every bird photo I shoot bloody well look like a hot chick.
“Hey you said this was a picture of a scaly breasted munia but what I see here is Elizabeth Hurley”
“Yeah. Same thing”
On Sunday, I took the camera out for a little spin to see how it would do. For a guy who has only handled a 1984 model Yashica camera which had like three moving parts (that’s including the photographer), a DSLR can be a daunting experience. I spent the first ten minutes practicing taking the camera out of the bag and putting it back in. The next few hours were spent in pouring through the user manual. Having finally found the ‘click’ button, I decided to try some shots.
So standing in the balcony of my house, I kept shooting everything in sight – leaves, stray dogs, mud. Quickly, I realized that the secret to great photography involves three steps -Firstly, invest in a good camera which I did; secondly, know how to operate it which I had spent time on; finally, and this is the crucial part, find a good photographer.
Because, looking at the photos I clicked, I knew I could have used a cheap pencil and drawn them all better by hand instead. And I am terrible at drawing. Apparently, buying a DSLR camera does not automatically make you a great photographer. When I think about it, it does make sense – you know, just because you have a calendar, it does not mean that you are going to go out on dates.
That was a deep philosophical moment of introspection for me. But as in the case of all men, I refuse to learn from philosophical insights and shall continue to slog on with my camera (and keep buying calendars, for that matter) until I can finally take decent pictures. I shall work on it mornings through afternoons.
But not in the evenings because that’s when I need to do the dishes at the shopkeeper’s
“Ah !!, that’s an adolescent Greater Coucal or...a crow. Darn it, that’s a cow”
Alright, my bird identification skills need a little more work. A few more days and I will be able to figure out the birds from the animals. But that is no way a reflection of my need for a camera. Like I said I finally bought one having saved enough money over the last several years and having promised the shopkeeper to do his dishes in lieu of the rest of the cost as the damn thing costs a fortune. And for that money, every bird photo I shoot bloody well look like a hot chick.
“Hey you said this was a picture of a scaly breasted munia but what I see here is Elizabeth Hurley”
“Yeah. Same thing”
On Sunday, I took the camera out for a little spin to see how it would do. For a guy who has only handled a 1984 model Yashica camera which had like three moving parts (that’s including the photographer), a DSLR can be a daunting experience. I spent the first ten minutes practicing taking the camera out of the bag and putting it back in. The next few hours were spent in pouring through the user manual. Having finally found the ‘click’ button, I decided to try some shots.
So standing in the balcony of my house, I kept shooting everything in sight – leaves, stray dogs, mud. Quickly, I realized that the secret to great photography involves three steps -Firstly, invest in a good camera which I did; secondly, know how to operate it which I had spent time on; finally, and this is the crucial part, find a good photographer.
Because, looking at the photos I clicked, I knew I could have used a cheap pencil and drawn them all better by hand instead. And I am terrible at drawing. Apparently, buying a DSLR camera does not automatically make you a great photographer. When I think about it, it does make sense – you know, just because you have a calendar, it does not mean that you are going to go out on dates.
That was a deep philosophical moment of introspection for me. But as in the case of all men, I refuse to learn from philosophical insights and shall continue to slog on with my camera (and keep buying calendars, for that matter) until I can finally take decent pictures. I shall work on it mornings through afternoons.
But not in the evenings because that’s when I need to do the dishes at the shopkeeper’s
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