1. Look at a piece of flash fiction. Do not read it, just look at it. It may be anywhere from 6 to 999 words long. Decide that anything that short must be supereasy to write because if it takes years and years and years to write a novel, it probably takes 17.5 seconds to write flash fiction. Decide to write some flash fiction the next time you have 17.5 seconds to spare.
2. After discovering that some American publications pay for flash fiction, decide to embark on a lucrative career writing flash fiction for lots of American money. Believe you can do this because many people have complimented you on your spoken English skills. Picture yourself getting millions of dollars and an Oscar for your writing. In the glow of your imminent awesomeness, write something and call it flash fiction. Tell yourself it is ok that you finished it in less than 17.5 seconds because people with good spoken English skills tend to write faster than others.
3. The next day, look at your flash fiction piece. Do not be appalled by the fact that it is complete garbage. Do remind yourself that this is flash fiction so someone has to pay you American money for it. Add words like ‘therefore’ and ‘because’ to it so that the piece makes a little more sense but not too much sense. Add exclamation marks to make it dramatic. Add words like ‘vermillion’ and ‘coconut’ to give it an exotic Indian air which you feel will be a sure hit with the Americans.
4. Send your work to numerous publications without reading their submission guidelines or what they actually publish. Bristle with bright and audaciously ferocious hope. Feel this hope quietly cough and die as you start to receive a steady stream of rejections in just a few hours. Think of the phrase ‘my heart sank’ and realize that you can actually feel this happen each time you get a rejection. Realize that even after you get used to the rejections, your heart still sinks each time you get one. Feel your heart sink again and again and again.
5. When you can no longer keep track of how many rejections you have received, read your flash fiction piece slowly to yourself. Read it many times so that it soaks deep into your memory and never goes away. Realize that not only is the piece complete garbage, you knew it was complete garbage all along. Resolve never to write flash fiction again.
6. Spend the next few months having recurring nightmares that you are being chased by angry Americans who claim your flash fiction gave them cancer. Try to cope with your subsequent fear of sleep by reading all the magazines that rejected you. Read their archives. Read anything and everything you can find that is connected to flash fiction. Read impassioned arguments from people who believe flash fiction is awesome and from people who believe flash fiction is killing literature. Read tweet fiction, nanofiction, drabbles, ficlets, minisagas, fables, microfiction, 69ers, 55ers, prose poetry, vignettes, experimental, horror, surreal, cyberpunk, irreal, mainstream, bizarro, new weird, multimedia, western, steampunk, erotic, zombie and really bad flash fiction. Read flash fiction with plots, with no plots, with one character, with no characters and flash fiction that says it isn’t flash fiction. Read poetry. Read lots and lots of poetry.
7. Read sign boards, magazine ads, newspaper articles and dialogue from plays. Discover that words can be rearranged or removed and this can change everything. Rearrange and remove words from famous poems. Read folktales, lists, anecdotes, jokes, lies, feghoots, spam, love letters, Nigerian fraud emails, frame stories and technical manuals. Listen to how people talk. Listen to the spaces between their words. Describe these spaces in your head. Describe them in ten different ways using different sets of words each time.
8. Talk incessantly about flash fiction to your friends. Watch these friends leave you because all you ever talk about is flash fiction. Talk to your fish about flash fiction. Talk to strangers about flash fiction. Talk to yourself about flash fiction.
9. One day, your best friend or lover will become very dramatic and leave you. They will say things like ‘I’m letting go? You’re not even trying to hold on!’ Visualize the act of letting go of something that isn’t holding on. Look at and listen to all the things they are saying to you by not saying anything. Think of all the words and spaces that have led up to this moment. After they leave, find a piece of paper and a pencil.
10. You are now ready to write a piece of flash fiction.
this article appeared in Deccan Herald's Sunday Herald, March 21, 2010
Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flash fiction. Show all posts
Saturday, March 20, 2010
I Got Soul But I'm Not A Soldier But I Have Some New Work Up But I Don't Have A Garland Made Out Of 1000 Rupee Notes
Can we talk about Mayawati’s Massive Money Mala? Can we talk about how that is the most ultimately blinged out thing ever ever? Can we talk about how now, when other countries talk about how poor India is, we can say hey, do people in YOUR country get massive garlands made out of 1000 rupee notes? No? Then YOU must be living in the poor country, stupidhead!
And can we talk about how awesome Lady Gaga’s Telephone video is? Wouldn’t it have been even more awesome if she had gone to a prison that was filled with hafnekkid menz? Maybe she’ll do that next time. Maybe she won’t do another crotch shot either. More hafnekkidmenz, less crotch shotz.
Pimpage Department
I have a new piece of flash fiction up at a place called Ekleksographia, which is a very long word. The issue is edited by Mary Miller who is kind of famous in America and has a collection which I haven't read because I live in India. There are also other flash fiction writers in this issue who are kind of famous in America.
Spare Monsters Department
The Blaft have just put up some artwork for their new release Kumari Loves a Monster, if you haven’t seen it yet you can go over and see it and feel very glad that you did because it’s awesome.
You Can Call If You Want But There’s No One Home And You’re Not Going To Reach My Telephone Department
Dear Feminism,
I just thought you should know that some people in my one numbers country of India are blaming homosexuality on feminism. I think this means that we should be blaming heterosexuality on anti-feminism but for some reason, no one is very interested in doing that. In general, I have noticed that many people like to blame homosexuality on the soul-less, cultureless and intrinsically evil western civilization which is mainly held responsible for other evil, soul-less and cultureless things like pants. Nobody wants to blame homosexuality on Coca Cola though because for some reason, that would be silly. I think when they get bored of blaming homosexuality in India on feminism, they will blame it on pants.
Dear FTV,
Woah! Looks like you got in trouble again for showing boobies! Didn't AXN once get banned for showing boobies also? It’s nice to know that seemingly unrelated fields like Action and Fashion have boobies in common.
Dear Sandra Bullock,
You won an Oscar. I can honestly say that I never, ever, ever thought I would ever see that happen. Then again, I never thought a movie about singing and dancing Indian slum kids would win an Oscar either. Did you ever think you’d win an Oscar? Was it weird for you too? Because it was really weird for me and I wasn’t even there.
Dear BritishPunjabiHipHopFolkhopRapUrbanGrimeBhangra People,
Hey what’s up desi style? How ya’ll doin’ in da house desi style? How are your mother father desi style? I want to say how I dig a lot of what you people do desi style. I am a little confused about one thing and that is this tendency to use the line ‘hot like Rekha’. The ladies and the gents are both using this very freely- women are hot like Rekha. Guys have girls who are hot like Rekha. Now in the today, so many other Bollywood girls are there with two-syllable names which rhyme with many things. So I kindly suggest you retire the line ‘hot like Rekha’ with so much dignity and never speak of it again, not because Rekha is not hot but because you need to move past 1981. It's a bit like how in some Tamil movie lyrics, they compare the soglamor girl to Elizabeth Taylor who is now well over 70 and perhaps not as soglamor as she once was. Peace out ya'll homibabas, keep it real. Desi style.
Dear Meryl Streep,
What’s it like to be Meryl Streep and watch Sandra Bullock get an Oscar while you, Meryl Streep, do not get an Oscar? Does it make you feel like you are on drugs?
Dear Piranha 2- The Spawning,
You are the most epicest movie ever. You are so epic I watched one scene and my heart nearly exploded from the sheer epicosity of it all. The scene was the beach party where there was an attack by what I assumed were black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying and which killed white people’s faces. There was one black man who I immediately recognized as the Wise Colored Person. Unfortunately, the black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying attacked and killed his face too and it was only then that I saw that these were not black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying. They were in fact flying plastic fish with wings and dentures. And I thought, wow. That is so awesome. By then the Wise Colored Person had been rendered dead because he was killed in the face and since there didn’t seem to be anymore Wise Colored People in the offing, I could not see how anyone in the movie could be saved and I thought, see? This is why racism is bad. It’s racism that prevents the Wise Colored People from saving you when you are being killed in the face by flying plastic fish with wings and dentures.
10 Pieces of Dialogue Which Prove That The Plan To Secretly Drink Rum and Coke During The ‘Highly Respectable Function’ Was Full of Failwhale
1. “Oh my God, who farted? Excuse me ma’am, did you just fart? Don’t tell lies. You totally look like someone who just farted. Shame shame puppy shame. You know what puppy shame is? It is being shameful of puppies. Did you know that? No? Why? Why didn't you know that?”
2. “Why is that man on stage going on talking? Who asked him to talk? Oh, he’s singing! Who asked him to sing? I never asked him to sing, you asked him to sing? Ask the farting aunty if she asked him to sing.”
3. “There are a LOT of white people here. I wonder how many of them have diarrhea? Excuse me sir, do you have diarrhea? Are you holding it in? You should never hold your diarrhea in, very bad for health. Also, welcome to my country.”
4. “Would someone please ask the uncle on the stage to stop talking? Or at least ask him to stop farting? Because I think it was him. Like, really.”
5. “You know, we kicked out all the white people in 1947. We don’t mind if you stay here for a while but you can’t take over the country. If you do that, I will hunt you down and kill you. Where are you staying? Tell me so I can hunt you down and kill you.”
6. “Farting aunty, can I call you Andy? Can I sing you a song? Fifi Fifi, No No No No Philomena Francis, My Name Is Philomena Francis. No you are a kyoon fairy. Yes you are a kyoon fairy. You know this song? You are not Malayalis? Then why is your nose like that?
7. “Uncle let me sing on the stage! I want to sing on the stage. I want to sing on the stage I want to sing on the stage I want to sing on the stage.”
8. “When my mother was small she thought white people didn’t fart because they were awesome and white. See what imperialism colonialism does? You see what you did? See what you did to my mother? Who’s going to pay for that? How much money do you have? Give me all your money or I’ll have your kidneys removed by slum children. You think I won’t do it? Don’t mess with me man, I got post-colonial issues like you would not believe! I got slum kids in this place right now. And if you don’t give me your money, they will slash your Achilles’ tendons and you will be left here to bleed to death because you’re white and we hate white people. We pretend we don't but we really do."
9. “Andy, can I have your handbag? Do you have any candy? Why, are you diabetic? Why did you wear this color sari, it’s not suiting you. Wow, your chappals are really ugly. See my chappals? These are my bathroom chappals. They are prettier than your chappals. At least your chappals match your ugly sari.”
10. “I’d like to dedicate this song to farting Andy, the frightened white man who's trying not to look frightened and the uncle I just pushed off the stage. Only I sing. Nobody else sing. Anybody else singing means I have their kidneys removed by slum children. Ok, ready? Fifi Fifi, No No No No Philomena Francis, My Name Is Philomena Francis. No you are a kyoon fairy. Yes you are a kyoon fairy. Why no one is singing also? No one knows Malayalam? You are all North Indians? No problem no problem, I sing Jumma Chumma De De.”
okbai.
And can we talk about how awesome Lady Gaga’s Telephone video is? Wouldn’t it have been even more awesome if she had gone to a prison that was filled with hafnekkid menz? Maybe she’ll do that next time. Maybe she won’t do another crotch shot either. More hafnekkidmenz, less crotch shotz.
Pimpage Department
I have a new piece of flash fiction up at a place called Ekleksographia, which is a very long word. The issue is edited by Mary Miller who is kind of famous in America and has a collection which I haven't read because I live in India. There are also other flash fiction writers in this issue who are kind of famous in America.
Spare Monsters Department
The Blaft have just put up some artwork for their new release Kumari Loves a Monster, if you haven’t seen it yet you can go over and see it and feel very glad that you did because it’s awesome.
You Can Call If You Want But There’s No One Home And You’re Not Going To Reach My Telephone Department
Dear Feminism,
I just thought you should know that some people in my one numbers country of India are blaming homosexuality on feminism. I think this means that we should be blaming heterosexuality on anti-feminism but for some reason, no one is very interested in doing that. In general, I have noticed that many people like to blame homosexuality on the soul-less, cultureless and intrinsically evil western civilization which is mainly held responsible for other evil, soul-less and cultureless things like pants. Nobody wants to blame homosexuality on Coca Cola though because for some reason, that would be silly. I think when they get bored of blaming homosexuality in India on feminism, they will blame it on pants.
Dear FTV,
Woah! Looks like you got in trouble again for showing boobies! Didn't AXN once get banned for showing boobies also? It’s nice to know that seemingly unrelated fields like Action and Fashion have boobies in common.
Dear Sandra Bullock,
You won an Oscar. I can honestly say that I never, ever, ever thought I would ever see that happen. Then again, I never thought a movie about singing and dancing Indian slum kids would win an Oscar either. Did you ever think you’d win an Oscar? Was it weird for you too? Because it was really weird for me and I wasn’t even there.
Dear BritishPunjabiHipHopFolkhopRapUrbanGrimeBhangra People,
Hey what’s up desi style? How ya’ll doin’ in da house desi style? How are your mother father desi style? I want to say how I dig a lot of what you people do desi style. I am a little confused about one thing and that is this tendency to use the line ‘hot like Rekha’. The ladies and the gents are both using this very freely- women are hot like Rekha. Guys have girls who are hot like Rekha. Now in the today, so many other Bollywood girls are there with two-syllable names which rhyme with many things. So I kindly suggest you retire the line ‘hot like Rekha’ with so much dignity and never speak of it again, not because Rekha is not hot but because you need to move past 1981. It's a bit like how in some Tamil movie lyrics, they compare the soglamor girl to Elizabeth Taylor who is now well over 70 and perhaps not as soglamor as she once was. Peace out ya'll homibabas, keep it real. Desi style.
Dear Meryl Streep,
What’s it like to be Meryl Streep and watch Sandra Bullock get an Oscar while you, Meryl Streep, do not get an Oscar? Does it make you feel like you are on drugs?
Dear Piranha 2- The Spawning,
You are the most epicest movie ever. You are so epic I watched one scene and my heart nearly exploded from the sheer epicosity of it all. The scene was the beach party where there was an attack by what I assumed were black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying and which killed white people’s faces. There was one black man who I immediately recognized as the Wise Colored Person. Unfortunately, the black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying attacked and killed his face too and it was only then that I saw that these were not black plastic bottles which were squeaking and also flying. They were in fact flying plastic fish with wings and dentures. And I thought, wow. That is so awesome. By then the Wise Colored Person had been rendered dead because he was killed in the face and since there didn’t seem to be anymore Wise Colored People in the offing, I could not see how anyone in the movie could be saved and I thought, see? This is why racism is bad. It’s racism that prevents the Wise Colored People from saving you when you are being killed in the face by flying plastic fish with wings and dentures.
10 Pieces of Dialogue Which Prove That The Plan To Secretly Drink Rum and Coke During The ‘Highly Respectable Function’ Was Full of Failwhale
1. “Oh my God, who farted? Excuse me ma’am, did you just fart? Don’t tell lies. You totally look like someone who just farted. Shame shame puppy shame. You know what puppy shame is? It is being shameful of puppies. Did you know that? No? Why? Why didn't you know that?”
2. “Why is that man on stage going on talking? Who asked him to talk? Oh, he’s singing! Who asked him to sing? I never asked him to sing, you asked him to sing? Ask the farting aunty if she asked him to sing.”
3. “There are a LOT of white people here. I wonder how many of them have diarrhea? Excuse me sir, do you have diarrhea? Are you holding it in? You should never hold your diarrhea in, very bad for health. Also, welcome to my country.”
4. “Would someone please ask the uncle on the stage to stop talking? Or at least ask him to stop farting? Because I think it was him. Like, really.”
5. “You know, we kicked out all the white people in 1947. We don’t mind if you stay here for a while but you can’t take over the country. If you do that, I will hunt you down and kill you. Where are you staying? Tell me so I can hunt you down and kill you.”
6. “Farting aunty, can I call you Andy? Can I sing you a song? Fifi Fifi, No No No No Philomena Francis, My Name Is Philomena Francis. No you are a kyoon fairy. Yes you are a kyoon fairy. You know this song? You are not Malayalis? Then why is your nose like that?
7. “Uncle let me sing on the stage! I want to sing on the stage. I want to sing on the stage I want to sing on the stage I want to sing on the stage.”
8. “When my mother was small she thought white people didn’t fart because they were awesome and white. See what imperialism colonialism does? You see what you did? See what you did to my mother? Who’s going to pay for that? How much money do you have? Give me all your money or I’ll have your kidneys removed by slum children. You think I won’t do it? Don’t mess with me man, I got post-colonial issues like you would not believe! I got slum kids in this place right now. And if you don’t give me your money, they will slash your Achilles’ tendons and you will be left here to bleed to death because you’re white and we hate white people. We pretend we don't but we really do."
9. “Andy, can I have your handbag? Do you have any candy? Why, are you diabetic? Why did you wear this color sari, it’s not suiting you. Wow, your chappals are really ugly. See my chappals? These are my bathroom chappals. They are prettier than your chappals. At least your chappals match your ugly sari.”
10. “I’d like to dedicate this song to farting Andy, the frightened white man who's trying not to look frightened and the uncle I just pushed off the stage. Only I sing. Nobody else sing. Anybody else singing means I have their kidneys removed by slum children. Ok, ready? Fifi Fifi, No No No No Philomena Francis, My Name Is Philomena Francis. No you are a kyoon fairy. Yes you are a kyoon fairy. Why no one is singing also? No one knows Malayalam? You are all North Indians? No problem no problem, I sing Jumma Chumma De De.”
okbai.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Stack Up Your Friends Like A Million Bucks And Other Things Also
Because I could not think of anything to blog about, I thought it would be the most splendid idea ever to post my Facebook 25 Random Things About Me List. I thought about this idea and I thought, wow, that is splendid. That is a splendid idea.
But first, I want to mention some other random things also.
1. This Article in Tehelka About Indian Readers And Indian Writers
“But reading contemporary Indian writers in English leaves you with a feeling that there remain stubborn layers of butter paper between their prose and the actual life they’re trying to describe. It is really a problem of foggy realism. They remain too mannered and fey to excite their verbal life with an original voice, to drive language hard, to mint indigenous metaphors, and provide little catharsis or pleasure to the reader. Aiming for vividness, they stop short at vivaciousness. Worse, the weaker ones sink into preciousness, petulance, grogginess.”
Word word word yes yes yes. Come on, Writers In India Who Write In English Who Live In India! Write More Better! Also, I want to say that I found Aseem Kaul’s blog post interesting because in the writing community I am familiar with, people tend to bend over their backsides, saying how the contributors, the editors, the editor’s mother and the very scent of the website’s html is so unbelievably awesome that it is nothing short of a major modern mystery that all this awesomeness hasn’t been nommed for all the prizes everywhere all the time. Nice to see some honesty and it was also nice that he said nice things about my story also.
2. Chillin By Lady Gaga. And Wale. This is one of the most frustrating songs I have heard in a very long time. Lady Gaga is the best thing this song has going for it but you have to sit through a lot of Wale in order to get to the Gaga. Which is hard because he keeps saying his name is Wale and after a while it’s like yes your name is Wale we get it you don’t have to keep saying it and yet you keep saying it like you did just now there you said it again. Liking the Bimbo Jones remix of this very much. I also like the line ‘stack up your friends like a million bucks’ though she may actually be saying ‘funds’ but I like to think it’s friends.
3. Words Without Borders had an issue on International Flash Fiction. Interesting to read, especially if you sometimes get the impression that flash fiction is American. Apparently it isn’t.
4. Do They Know It’s Hallowe’en has Narduwar the Human Serviette, Feist, Peaches, Beck and bits and pieces of Smoosh, Wolf Parade, that dog, Rilo Kiley and Sonic Youth all in the together to make a parody of that bodacious song Do They Know It’s Christmas which I love so very very much. I love it so much I wrote this about it.
5. Podcasts- I dig podcasts because I can’t read. Every time I try to read a book I fall asleep. This did not happen when I read graphic novels, possibly because they had pictures in them. I’m recommending the LibriVox series of podcasts with this cautionary note. These are works in the public domain and they are read by volunteers. So while there are lots of interesting podcasts up and they are all free, they are works in the public domain and they are read by volunteers. So I would recommend these podcasts if you can’t read or can’t get your hands on reading material in the public domain or can’t afford reading material in the public domain but for some reason you have an internet connection and you don’t mind bad reading sometimes and you don't mind bad stories sometimes.
6. Aada Varalaam - You can please aada varalaam (that is 'come and dance' for our non-Tamil-speaking-friends) to this song from the very awesome show Psychoville (from the same peeps that brought you the equally awesome League of Gentlemen). This is a song all everybodys can dance to because they are so much simple steps and even if you are sitting alone on chair or maybe you are with all so much of your friends enjoying like anything or maybe you are feeling very sad also and you feel like dancing you can do it also. Of course the dancing pair are mother and son but if you don't think of them as mother and son it's a lot less disturbing.
And now. 25 Random Things About Myself. Actually it's just 19 because this post is too long already.
1. I once convinced a friend that Mary Oliver was working in a local cottage industry unit which extracted salt from gravel.
2. I once listened to the Dard E Disco remix on loop for 4 hours.
3. In grade 9, I had a large argument with a number of my classmates who insisted that Kangaroo was pronounced Gungah-rooh. I now have no idea how to say that word so I never use 'Kangaroo' in spoken conversation.
4. While walking home after a flood, I noticed a fish flipflopping on the road and so I tossed it into a muddy puddle where I watched it squirm even more because it was probably a very hot muddy puddle and there is a good chance that said fish boiled to death because of my selfless act of heroism.
5. When traveling by train to Chennai, I watched two old Brahmin ladies discuss religion with two Muslim men and instead of basking in the Unity In Diversity and singing Vande Mataram, I thought chi, so filmy.
6. I can speak 14 different languages but Hindi isn't one of them. This makes me a bad, bad Indian.
7. When traveling by train, I am often mistaken for some movie star who 'has large eyes'. This never happens when I travel by bus.
8. I once shot and killed something accidentally and now I really like guns.
9. As a child, I was very good at long distance running and earned the nickname, The Fastest Little Indian, which in turn led to allegations of racism within my school. This led to a very ugly chapter in the Canadian Public School system which was later made into an After-school Special movie. While they refused to give me the lead role, I did play one of the girls who is mean to the Fastest Little Indian but later I pat her on the back and say you're awesome even though you look different.
10. I was part of the ukulele club until I said the ukulele club was retarded and then they said I couldn't be in the ukulele club anymore.
11. During my youth, cows and small birds would attack me for no reason.
12. To put all rumor and speculation to rest, yes I am actually the artist known as M.I.A.
13. I lied about the M.I.A thing.
14. And I lied about some other stuff too.
15. Actually I lied about everything.
16. No I didn't.
17. Yes I did.
18. I am going to say something profound yet funny about Slumdog Millionaire.
19. No I'm not.
okbai.
But first, I want to mention some other random things also.
1. This Article in Tehelka About Indian Readers And Indian Writers
“But reading contemporary Indian writers in English leaves you with a feeling that there remain stubborn layers of butter paper between their prose and the actual life they’re trying to describe. It is really a problem of foggy realism. They remain too mannered and fey to excite their verbal life with an original voice, to drive language hard, to mint indigenous metaphors, and provide little catharsis or pleasure to the reader. Aiming for vividness, they stop short at vivaciousness. Worse, the weaker ones sink into preciousness, petulance, grogginess.”
Word word word yes yes yes. Come on, Writers In India Who Write In English Who Live In India! Write More Better! Also, I want to say that I found Aseem Kaul’s blog post interesting because in the writing community I am familiar with, people tend to bend over their backsides, saying how the contributors, the editors, the editor’s mother and the very scent of the website’s html is so unbelievably awesome that it is nothing short of a major modern mystery that all this awesomeness hasn’t been nommed for all the prizes everywhere all the time. Nice to see some honesty and it was also nice that he said nice things about my story also.
2. Chillin By Lady Gaga. And Wale. This is one of the most frustrating songs I have heard in a very long time. Lady Gaga is the best thing this song has going for it but you have to sit through a lot of Wale in order to get to the Gaga. Which is hard because he keeps saying his name is Wale and after a while it’s like yes your name is Wale we get it you don’t have to keep saying it and yet you keep saying it like you did just now there you said it again. Liking the Bimbo Jones remix of this very much. I also like the line ‘stack up your friends like a million bucks’ though she may actually be saying ‘funds’ but I like to think it’s friends.
3. Words Without Borders had an issue on International Flash Fiction. Interesting to read, especially if you sometimes get the impression that flash fiction is American. Apparently it isn’t.
4. Do They Know It’s Hallowe’en has Narduwar the Human Serviette, Feist, Peaches, Beck and bits and pieces of Smoosh, Wolf Parade, that dog, Rilo Kiley and Sonic Youth all in the together to make a parody of that bodacious song Do They Know It’s Christmas which I love so very very much. I love it so much I wrote this about it.
5. Podcasts- I dig podcasts because I can’t read. Every time I try to read a book I fall asleep. This did not happen when I read graphic novels, possibly because they had pictures in them. I’m recommending the LibriVox series of podcasts with this cautionary note. These are works in the public domain and they are read by volunteers. So while there are lots of interesting podcasts up and they are all free, they are works in the public domain and they are read by volunteers. So I would recommend these podcasts if you can’t read or can’t get your hands on reading material in the public domain or can’t afford reading material in the public domain but for some reason you have an internet connection and you don’t mind bad reading sometimes and you don't mind bad stories sometimes.
6. Aada Varalaam - You can please aada varalaam (that is 'come and dance' for our non-Tamil-speaking-friends) to this song from the very awesome show Psychoville (from the same peeps that brought you the equally awesome League of Gentlemen). This is a song all everybodys can dance to because they are so much simple steps and even if you are sitting alone on chair or maybe you are with all so much of your friends enjoying like anything or maybe you are feeling very sad also and you feel like dancing you can do it also. Of course the dancing pair are mother and son but if you don't think of them as mother and son it's a lot less disturbing.
And now. 25 Random Things About Myself. Actually it's just 19 because this post is too long already.
1. I once convinced a friend that Mary Oliver was working in a local cottage industry unit which extracted salt from gravel.
2. I once listened to the Dard E Disco remix on loop for 4 hours.
3. In grade 9, I had a large argument with a number of my classmates who insisted that Kangaroo was pronounced Gungah-rooh. I now have no idea how to say that word so I never use 'Kangaroo' in spoken conversation.
4. While walking home after a flood, I noticed a fish flipflopping on the road and so I tossed it into a muddy puddle where I watched it squirm even more because it was probably a very hot muddy puddle and there is a good chance that said fish boiled to death because of my selfless act of heroism.
5. When traveling by train to Chennai, I watched two old Brahmin ladies discuss religion with two Muslim men and instead of basking in the Unity In Diversity and singing Vande Mataram, I thought chi, so filmy.
6. I can speak 14 different languages but Hindi isn't one of them. This makes me a bad, bad Indian.
7. When traveling by train, I am often mistaken for some movie star who 'has large eyes'. This never happens when I travel by bus.
8. I once shot and killed something accidentally and now I really like guns.
9. As a child, I was very good at long distance running and earned the nickname, The Fastest Little Indian, which in turn led to allegations of racism within my school. This led to a very ugly chapter in the Canadian Public School system which was later made into an After-school Special movie. While they refused to give me the lead role, I did play one of the girls who is mean to the Fastest Little Indian but later I pat her on the back and say you're awesome even though you look different.
10. I was part of the ukulele club until I said the ukulele club was retarded and then they said I couldn't be in the ukulele club anymore.
11. During my youth, cows and small birds would attack me for no reason.
12. To put all rumor and speculation to rest, yes I am actually the artist known as M.I.A.
13. I lied about the M.I.A thing.
14. And I lied about some other stuff too.
15. Actually I lied about everything.
16. No I didn't.
17. Yes I did.
18. I am going to say something profound yet funny about Slumdog Millionaire.
19. No I'm not.
okbai.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)