Wankers,

Your favourite feline fetishist and diet coke enthusiast has now moved to

meowiyer.livejournal.com

Take your catcalls and purraises there.

Dee's blogspot.

I am Spartacus, and apparently so is everyone else.

Everyone I know who has watched 300 either fancies themselves to be Spartan, or Spartacus, or some sort of blood thirsty warrior. Anyway, I thought that for the amusement of anyone who reads this blog, you all know now what I do when I'm at work. (!).
This conversation happened between me and my little Nail Bunny who kept saying she was Spartacus althought my Gtalk handle very much stated that and hers was Sayonara Saigon, which I didnt get at all, I still dont, come to think of it..

11:38 AM nivedita.ravishankar: no, i am spartacus.
11:39 AM me: then why are you sayonara saigon
nivedita.ravishankar: i'm saying sayonara to saigon because i am spartacus
me: well. too bad. i am saying i am spartacus because i am spartaus
11:40 AM so fuck off..
nivedita.ravishankar: hell. no.
me: (dances around because she won this battle)
nivedita.ravishankar: bollocks.
me: spartacus didnt even know japanese you moron !
nivedita.ravishankar: spartacus didn't believe in executive summaries either.
11:41 AM so, up yours, you wannabe spartacus.
me: its in the present day context that i am speaking
11:42 AM nivedita.ravishankar: hm. well, anyway, have yourself a lovely day.
me: "by spartan law, we do not surrender, we do not retreat...."
11:43 AM that seems like retreat dear spartan
nivedita.ravishankar: actually, i'm happily dancing in a shower of arrows.
viz. i have a report to submit by this evening.

and then she left me to my work....
pffft i say to the entire thing. It seems that nowadays I don't do much much more than copypaste jobs and writing about my cat. Reading the tarot is draining me of my creative talent. Yes. I have started doing that. Reading the Tarot, not trying to drain out my creative talent.

Another thing I want to out to all ye bloggers out there - I realised that very often, when I have to search for a quotation about work, I search quotation banks for key words and we never have quotes from ancient.. or even modern Indian philosphers, thinkers, scientists, etc. Does anyone have any idea where we can find these on the internet?
I was actually asked this question by honorable colleague Akra-san who, when we were working on a document that had an opening quote by a Calvin something or the other, remarked something to the effect of, why do we need these Americans to set examples, there are so many things that Indians have said that are more apt.

Considering I'm anti-Bush and very very Pro-desi (both being very much in fashion now, might I add) , i was much intrigued. I have much reverence for Arka as a colleague and person for he has information on everything, and I mean it! Haiku, Religion, Maya, Economics, Math, Computers, attaining Nirvana even! Whats more, we both like the same movies, and all of you know how crazy I am about my movies! If you are reading this Arka, diet coke the next time I meet you will suffice. :)
I'm done kissing arse and being a spartan
Strength and Honour.

.dee out.

how to save a life

I wake up in the morning and it's usually hard to get out of bed. How long will that feeling last? I don't know.
Ryan says it will last till the day you dont walk around with your head down but look up at the sky, watch the clouds and smile.

Some days are harder than others. I wake up, I gently place Momo's head on the pillow. It usually is resting on my stomach, my chest or my face. He wakes up anyway and meows gently. Sometimes it solicits a smile, othertimes, I just get out of bed and get ready for the day.

I do the things people usually do before they get to work. The house is empty. Mom's away to teach and my sister's away at school. My cat keeps me company, him trotting along with his little paws to keep up with my hurried morning routine.
I leave him in the house alone with a few words of advice - behave till amma comes, eat some cat food, dont break anything - I love you, moe.. And I'm out the door.

I sit in the bus, I watch traffic. I keep glancing at my phone and think, he would have called by now to tell me that he just woke up. Silly boy. Always late to work. Sometimes the thought makes me smile. Othertimes, the thought lingers long enough to remind me that he will probably never do that again and I stop staring at the phone and continue to watch traffic.

I'm talking and laughing with my colleagues. I'm eating the lunch my mother packed me, at the cafeteria. I'm having conversations with the occasional friend who calls. I'm drinking hot chocolate from the vending machine at work.
Through it all, I wonder what he's doing. Is he at work? Is he home for lunch? Is he at an event somewhere? Is he eating and sleeping on time?

Its only natural - all my friends say. They message me, email me, call me, go out to dinner and drinks with me - keep that chin up, you'll be alright. I'm listening to them. I am.

One Sunday after I woke up, I went to the kitchen and hugged my mother. All I did was cry. I didn't say one word, I only cried. She held me. She didn't ask any questions. Only told me that it was for the best. We were two good people who weren't good for each other and in time, we will both realise it. In time.
She lost the man she loved and lived with for twenty five years. Till date, I have never seen her break down in front of my sister or me. I have a feeling I still have a lot to learn from my mother.

I lie in bed at the end of the day. I never sleep without thinking about him and wishing him goodnight in my head. I know that he will never again call to tell me he is still at work. I will never complain that he works too hard, that he should have eaten dinner by now, that he should be home and in bed, because it's already past eleven.
I will never get to tell him that I missed him the whole day and that even if he gets home by 2am, to call me before he goes to bed.
These days, before sleeping, my phone is switched to silent mode.

He still calls sometimes. I do too. Conversation is cordial. We try hard to talk about things that are inane. Invariably, 'us' creeps in. I ask him if he's started seeing someone already. He chuckles and asks me if I'm crazy. I tell him I won't see anyone for the longest time to come. It's hard getting over you. I still think about you. I miss you sometimes. I can't imagine being with someone else so soon. I love you. Hey, me too ... I love you too.
Then one of us stops. Silence lingers, the conversation fades away. We say our goodbyes.

I write this post today, because this morning, when I was in the bus to work, I looked at the sky. I thought of what Ryan said, I looked at the clouds and I smiled. I kept that chin up. I'll be alright.

I still will have to remind myself often to feel the pain but not act on it. I will still miss him for a long time to come. I will still wonder whom he's talking to and how long it will take for another girl to take my place. Will she be prettier than me? Maybe have longer hair. I'm sure she'll be funny. He likes girls with a good sense of humour. WIll she take care of him. He needs to be reminded to eat and sleep on time.

One day, I will see him with another girl and be happy for him. I should remind myself to tell Ryan that THAT will be the day. That will be the day that I am truly over him.

Anyway, maybe tomorrow morning, when Moe looks at me and meows, after a yawn and a good stretch, I'll kiss him on his little button nose and tell him that I love him. I should. Because I do.

cars 'r' us

cats 'r' us. apparently..
sad story: cinnamon ran away.
happy story: i got smarter and brought home a 6 week old kitten whos too small to understand anyting :). so now he needs me for everything and wont runaway. hopefully.

pictures follow. comments must also..

well,, isn't that the cat's meow

I'm in love.. yes I am ! This time with my cat, Cinnamon Iyer.

My sister and I drove up to the shetler one fine saturday afternoon. We knew we wanted a cat. According to my mom's instructions, a male cat who MUST be fixed. Of course.

So we walked into the cattery and looked a number of prospectives. Somehow my sister and I couldn't decide on one. Then we heard that there was one wonderful kitty. Very affectionate, most healthy. Only problem, the tabby cat had an accident about a year ago when he was about six months old and had to have his right foreleg removed. He was fixed and was male..

Well, I have to admit, I wasn't without trepidation. Neither was little Juj. We went and took a look at who would become our new little baby! My sister fell in love with him instantly. He had the cutest face and when I picked him up.. he didn't make the slightest noise.. purred gently and started snuggling up. We had found a winner.

We gave him all his shots and drove him back home. Cat food, litter box in place. He came home and now he's the man of the house.. and he knows it!

Don't let his three leggedness fool you. He's as naughty and as perky as the regular tom cat. He has a number of other names that we call him in endearment of course .. (cough cough). Lovingly, his names range from Langda Tyagi, Tripod, nondi poone (that's my mother's contribution) to ey handicapped bum, Elvis (which is what Ganatra keeps calling him), you need a cinnamon stick to help you walk better .. umm .. my poor baby... He takes it all in his stride though (pun intended and all). He gets spoilt rotten by my sister and I.

Ganatra came over and met him.. how the sparks flew .. he's ready to snuggle up to anyone and sleep .. he's also learnt to throw tantrums when he's angry and when he's hungry. Learning from his owners.. what a smart one. If i continue with this, i will never finish.. But as a grand finale to this post, I am posting a piece written about Cinnamon by my good friend (cough cough ), Ashwin.. Sadistic, twisted , well meaning humour.. very tam bram. I like!

I tot I taw 3/4th of a puddy-tat!

Dee Iyer has been cheated. Last week, she broke into a fit of buying a cat. Much to her mother’s dismay, on Ganesh Chaturthi, a new guest came home…An cat with 3 legs.

Now, let’s assume that a cat costs Rs.100/-. How much would you pay for a three-legged cat? In my head, I’d pay Rs.75/-. Simple….for 3/4^th of a cat, I’d pay 3/4^th of Rs.100. BUT NO…Dee pays nothing and gets home a three-legged cat that is also STERALIZED. Sheesh, I can’t believe that a smartie like Dee allowed herself to be taken for a cat-sized ride like this. A sterilized, 3 legged cat downloaded on her for free.

That’s not all. Dee’s feeling all sanguine about the cat and ends up calling her sterilized-three-legged-pet as Cinnamon. Sangiune…Cinnamon? I’d call it Reddy!

It’s ok Dee, I’ll overlook these little incidents when it comes to your annual friend appraisal and evaluation!

never say goodbye (english informal title)

i am writing this entry for two reasons:
1, because i was tagged by aria ..
2, i watched kabhi alvida na kehna yesterday and i thought i must educate the world on the genius who is karan johar..
so why not combine two posts in one.. i'm a smart one.. i am.
so here goes:

. i'm thinking about: how k.a.n.k preceeded by an 's' would sound either like skank or skunk, depends on which way you want to pronounce it, of course.
skank: (noun) any substance considered disgustingly foul or unpleasant.
skunk: (noun) mammal having a bushy tail and black fur with white markings and ejecting a foul-smelling oily liquid from glands near the anus when frightened or in danger.

i needn't say anymore.. karan johar did this to himself. abbreviating and all. moron.

. i said: amma!it's directed by karan johar!! the movie is four hours long!!!!!
she said: i don't care. you and your sister are coming with me.

. i want: a fish fillet burger, fries and coke from mc.donalds for lunch again. me mom kept up to her end of the bargain. you come with me for the movie. mc.donalds meal on me. deal i said. lets go. we'll miss the beginning, dammit.

. i wish: i had a party to go to that was down the road tonight too.

. i hear: people asking me how much sleep i caught during the movie..
pffft i scoff at their arrogance. at pvr? please.. their international standard audio systems don't afford you that luxury. now really. the tickets cost that much for a reason.

. i wonder: many things.
a, how could amitabh bachan still be so graceful and elegant even at that age. he was the only good thing about the movie. in fact, he was great.
b, how much production spent on glycerine to make rani mukherjee cry that much?
c, how karan johar came up with such great witticisms such as: sexy sam.. sexy sam.. wham bam wham bam thank you sam... truly touching.

. i regret: nothing.. oh gosh no.. it was a great learning experience..

. i dance: yes.. john abraham commanded me to.. dance with me baby, wont you dance with me allnight.. wont you party party party, wont you burn the floor tonight? he asked.. how can anyone say no. going to nacho all i night, i am.

. i sing: sapnon ke din hain .. sapnon ke ratein !! i can't get those blasted lines outta my head..

. i cry: yes i do, 'nuff said. so does everyone in that movie. i am not lying.. EVERYONE in that movie cries at some point. with rani taking the lead of course.

. i am not always: this critical.

. i make with my hands: clickety click noises messaging lady beryl and nj during the movie.. asking them what i did in my last birth to deserve this. as if they knew .. pffft.

. i write: to tell you that the truth is out there.. playing at every theatre in sight, love will find a wayyyyyy .. jannniiyeeeeee .. it took love four hours and nine hundred wrong turns to find its way though. poor thing.

. i confuse: rani mukherjee with a leaking faucet.

. i need: lots of diet coke. this post made me relive the k.a.n.k experience all over again. dammit.

. i tag: no one. just go watch the movie. you must. must. must.

before i go! i must add this bit of conversation that i had with mala belavangala on msn about k.a.n.k

malavika says:
yeah too long...but i like the concpt
malavika says:
keep looking for someone you love...even if it means marrying ppl along the way
dee iyer says:
i like that one mala
dee iyer says:
can i put it up on my blog?
malavika says:
oh k hehee

she's the cutest.. teehee ..
true.. keep looking for someone you love .. even if it means marrying people on the way .. :)


.dee out.

did i really type this?

now what is all this fuss about orkut? no seriously? i ask you.. i spend hours on it a day. the bloody window is always minimized when i'm at work and i'm taking breaks from copywriting just to refresh the window to see how many scraps i got. ..

on to the next topic of discussion.

some man who read me blog - arvind the terrible - he calls himself, posted the most intriguing comment on my last blog post. did you really write this yourself - or something to that effect.
indignition. thats all i feel. i'm a writer, godammit. not some ctrl+c, ctrl+v person. now give me a little credit. and to answer that question.
yes. i did write that last post, myself.

accenture has added a whole new perspective to my life. yes i am part of creative processes there, yes i am their copy writer. but you see, i actually just a number. no wait.. actually two.
my computer has a number, and then as an individual i do. so anything i do, or need, or ask for, they don't want my name and designation, no.. they don't even care..
can i have your workstation number please? and your ID number? thank you.. please hold...
no .. no.. esteemed, call centre person.. thank you! for helping me solve my problems and making me feel like part of the matrix. i am you know.

so my id card isn't working one day, and i need to swipe the damn thing to get back into my bay, to get out of the rest room, yada yada. so lets just say that if you lose your id.. you don't get to pee. that's the only thing that keeps me holding on to it for dear life, as only one of my kidneys is functioning... i'm so sure of it.
the help desk checks my card and they knew the last place i used it at.. this gets me staring at them .. and in my head i'm thinking.. is there a gps on that.. lab rat.. lab rat..

sorry.. thats a song i just made up in my head.. the chorus goes .. is there a gps on that.. ? lab rat .. you're nothing but a lab rat..
woe is me and all that.

.dee out