I'm a Goan woman, working in Mumbai as the founder of a studio called Totem Creative. I try to make the world happier, safer and more meaningful. I believe education, knowledge and awareness, art, writing and creating Social Impact are my means to achieve that end.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

(J) The Taxman Cometh‏

At the end of the tax year, the tax office sent an inspector to audit the books of a synagogue.

While he was checking the books he turned to the rabbi and said, 'I notice you buy a lot of candles. What do you do with the candle drippings?'

'Good question,' noted the rabbi. 'We save them up and send them back to the candle makers, and every now and then they send us a free box of candles.'

'Oh,' replied the auditor, somewhat disappointed that his unusual question had a practical answer.

But on he went, in his obnoxious way. 'What about all these bread-wafer purchases? What do you do with the crumbs?'

'Ah, yes,' replied the rabbi, realising that the inspector was trying to trap him with an unanswerable question.

'We collect them and send them back to the manufacturers, and every now and then they send us a free box of bread-wafers.'

'I see,' replied the auditor, thinking hard about how he could fluster the know-it-all rabbi.

'Well, rabbi,' he went on, 'What do you do with all the leftover foreskins from the circumcisions you perform?'

'Here, too, we do not waste,' answered the rabbi. 'What we do is save all the foreskins and send them to the tax office, and about once a year they send us a complete dickhead.'

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Thursday Mornin'

So I sat there, thinking of how awesome his work was. I got demotivated. I texted my friends, hoping they would find an answer. Alok and Punk replied something irrelevant. Unexpectedly, considering all the rush she would be in thanks to her brother's wedding preps, Bubbles replied the perfect answer.

"Wht shd 'i' b feeling girl?? Thinking of animation even when i hv horribl, least cnfidnt, out of proportions, least strokes. N dspite he bein awsm, u knw he's4graphics.His most wrk is goin2b imagery.Nt animatd.So he puts it up on fb. Simple! R u4graphics?No.wd n wrk, n put it up on fb just to look gd on fb?Nahi. Mag?Pisaat.introspectn is gd. Dnt let it ruin d bgining of diwali,yedo.hv fun wid ur famly.they lau u4whtvr u r.dnt4get me. I lau n2:)

"Aww." I thought. That was enough to help me pull myself together. Beatles! I put on their awesome music, the ac, and my stress-relieving stratergy - cleaning the room! I think in somebody else's eyes I might've looked like Mrs. Doubtfire. The room was spotless in about an hour. Mum would be so proud of me. Ran downstairs, made some limejuice for mum n gran. Great beginning.
Finally, I'm on a roll!

So I'm gonna go sketch soon, and bind those reference books asap. Make a movie maybe, and write some experience. Get hold of a bunch of old photos and make a memorable album. I'm not gonna let it be drab.

Monday, October 12, 2009


It was one of those conversations that could never finish off. Sid was highly entertaining. He defined a good relationship. One which communicates, gives space, and understands. But this couldn't be said in just these 3 words. He had to prove what he meant to me, and I patiently listened.

"There's your race, and my race." He started.
"Of course you guys think we're perverts, and sure, we ARE! We have the damn testosterone running in our bodies all the time! But sex is not all we think of! If that was the case, we would be in those strip clubs throughout our lives!" Sid justified.
He shook his hands vigorously while he spoke, and paced to and fro the pavement in impatience, pointing at himself, pointing at an imaginary girl next to him. If this conversation was muted, it would still be just as entertaining! Watching Sid frustrated gave me inexplicable joy and entertainment.
"Look - my girlfriend/wife should be the one I can freely tell anything to. If I'm hanging out with my buds in a strip club, I should be able to tell her. Right? But no! How would your race react to that? 'Hey honey...I'm in a strip club with my buds.'"
"DUDE!" I yelled, "WTH are you doing there??!! How sick is that! I can't believe you!!" I role played.
"EXACTLY!!" he yelled on the road."AND! If we DON'T tell you guys - and you find out later,"
"OMG!! I can't believe this! YOU LIED TO ME??!! Why didn't you tell me in the FIRST place?!!" I role played again.
"YEAH!! See??! This is your race! Maddening! You women! So COMPLEX!" he cried. "You guys are the most screwed up race I tell you."
I pondered. Yes, we were complex. "But you guys aint any better dude! How can we trust that you weren't hooking up with some random girl after getting drunk?"
"Nikki! Trust our race man! This is all the bullshit that people shove in about us! Its all a huge miscommunication between these races! In the end, we get screwed both ways! Now if you're gonna get screwed either way, you might as well have a blast there and come back and explain yourself to her. Problem is - she won't listen!"
Wow, Sid, are you married?// I thought.
"Look, we guys pick intelligence in you girls any day over how you look! Or the fact that you aren't like the other girls! Atleast when it comes to me, she should give me my space" he said.
"I know, I know, Sid," I said, after bursting into laughter.

"You know what you girls do?"
I allowed him to give me a piece of his mind.
"They use you as a shoulder to cry on, man, and all along, you don't GET it! Guys like me? Nice guys? Dude - they're like on the top of the list of the guys to get screwed over.
You order a double cheese pizza. They wouldn't say a word while you're ordering it, and then when its under your nose, they go -
'NO! That pizza is so full of cheese!'
'You can't eat that! Either the pizza goes, or I go!'
'Okay, the pizza goes....But I'm going WITH IT!'" he said, stomping off in the left direction.
"Siiid..." I cried, gasping for breathe. His entire performance was entertaining. I clapped in appreciation and affection.
"This entire relationship between a guy and a girl is poisoned and screwed up by society! Society tells the girl that the guy is a perv, and society tells the girl that if he's in a strip club, he's out with a girl named Candice! And can I blame her? NO! I cannot! Who gets screwed in the end? US!"

Poor Sid. People came and people went, and we stood there at the open irony. If the genders did not get one another, how did I get him now? Miscommunications..Friends passed by on their bikes and yelled a 'hi' to us on the sidewalk.
He didn't stop until his mom yelled from across the road. I started my bike, and we said goodbye. I totally understood him.
But what were the odds of a girl getting him?
Fall, coconut.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Maximum Retail Price

As I relished every bite of my icecream, I read the price on its wrapper. The man there had charged me Rs. 20. the MRP showed Rs. 15. I frowned in irritation. He must have thought of me as a stupid girl - whom he could easily cheat and get a few bucks more from. As I nibbled on, I thought of ym revenge. But I was too tired to get up, and argue with him. It would be completely futile, and my icecream was probably worth 20 at that point. But he had cheated me; and I couldn't just sit there, letting injustice win over my guts. I had plans fro his sorry ass.

I hurriedly gobbled the the last few bits of my chocobar, and looked around near the counted to see if that man was still there. I stood from my seat, climbing down the bus. Had a full on heated conversation (ahem..*argument) with him on the MRP of my icecream. His reason for cheating me was like any other. "Madam idhar aadhe time electricity ahin milti aur cooling charges bhrane padte hain." he defended rudely. And that,, such shaky defence. "Aapko nahin chahiye toh math kharidiye." he said, indifferent. The ass didn't get it. All of them had miserable excuses for making a few extra bucks from dimwitted cutomers. But I wasn't one of them. I felt my fists clench for his face. My face might've looked red. I had never seen defeat like this. he refused to give my 5 bucks back. I walked back to the bus, cursing his shop and business. He had told me people were ready to buy from him, and that if I had a problem, I shouldn't have bought it in the first place. I cursed myself for being stupid. What kind of brainless oaf was I? I sighed, and walked back to my bus, trying to forget.

Let's not shut up and enjoy our icecreams.
Let's fight back.

Moral: Check the MRP and buy it at that rate.