Surya
18th July 2006, 11:14 AM
[tscii:c93a200904]P[/tscii:c93a200904]rolouge:
This is my first piece of non-fiction (other than Class Essays) which I’ve tried to put in a Humorous fashion. (U may not find it that way, if it is an utter kadi, please let me know.) Like I said, it’s non-fiction, it really happened to me, there is a little bit of fiction, but for the most part, it is non-fiction. What you are about to read, is something that I will remember till I go to my grave. It is literally, the most embarrassed, and ashamed that I’ve been in front of a girl. Wait…no it isn’t, but it’s up there, in the top 3. You may find it funny, you may find it cruel (as I did :cry:), but I’ll bet that this will make you wish that you are never me, even in your forth coming births. But as the Tamil proverb goes, “Marappom…Sirippom.” ( I know it doesn’t go like that, but it works in this situation, so gimmie a break. :roll: )
The Setting:
So every year, the local Siddhi Vinayakar temple here hosts a small get-together (actually it’s rather large, the crowd comes out to about 200 Desies, speaking different langs, so most elders (married people over 35 years of age) communicate in the thick desi accent, where the men’s conversations are filled with World Politics, Microsoft, Nasdaq, and bragging about which university their son or daughter got into, and what their SAT Scores were and so on. And the women’s conversations are filled with family politics, jewellery, sarees, and bragging about which university their son or daughter got into and what their SAT Scores were and so on.) wow…that was a long bracket..where was I? Oh yeah..hosts a small get-together, and people come there to socialize in their own way by discussing what they find as interesting. As the elders are busy with their own boring conversations, the semi-youngies (ages 27-34) are busy in their own things. Married Couples, which most of them are, speak with other married couples, about their car payments, their future in their jobs, and their new preciously cute babies, and what they like and what is allergic to them, and so on and so forth. The next Age group is one of those who are 24-27. These guys just got their jobs, or have been working for their company only for the past couple years or so, and are working hard to get ahead. They stand around talking about things which are a bit more entertaining. A little of the Movie Industry, a little joke every now and then, and last but not least, their terrifying project managers who ride them like wild mustangs. The next age group, (ages 14-22) are the ones with absolutely no worries. They’re all in High School or in College, and their environment is completely laid back. All they talk about is things about people from the opposite sex, video games, make-up (both based on what sex they are) a lot about movies, actors, and funny stories about things that happened in classes or whatever. The next age group are kids below 14. All they do is pretend to be Superman, or who ever is hot now, and do somersaults on the carpet. Some of them would occationally get hurt and scream at the top of their lungs, and someone from the 27-34 age group would come to take care of them, calm them down, and talk to their fellow age group about how their son or daughter got hurt by doing somersaults for the next half hour. WHEW!! So that the setting. You can imagine what it looks like.
My Story:
Usually, when these things happen every year, a group of elder women volunteer to cook for this event, and take care of the food serving etc etc. This year just as any other year, my mom was one of them. And as always, I was expected to not hang out with the people of my age group, (14-22) and expected to help my mother with all the food. (why me? WHY ME?!?? WHY ME?? OH LORD! WHY ME?!) anywayz…as usual, I’d ditch my mother, and slip out when she isn’t looking and join up with my friends. This year was no different. Just when my mother was pouring the hot oil, which contained mustard seeds, curry leaves, perumgayam, and some other stuff into the huge container of thayir saadham, I slowly tiptoed out of the temple kitchen which had about nine other elder women doing their own thing, and ran to my friends.
So there I was, just chatting away with my friends, Vishnu, Meera, Meenu, Kathir, Akshay, Arjun, and Vinod, when I see a beautiful girl, sitting all by herself, reading a book across the huge grass lawn. She was probably 5’9, slim, a little on the lighter side, and had pretty eyes that moved with the lines in her book. “Hey guys..who’s that?” I asked.
“We were talking about her earlier dude, we don’t know, first time I’m seeing her around. She’z hella fine huh?” Said Vishnu. I nodded. “I wanted to go talk to her, but my mom’s right there eyeing my every other minute.” He said looking into his coke can.
“I feel for you holms! Alright, I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“No you’re not!” It was Meenu. Sigh!
“Meenz, it’s just a friendly chat….k? I’m just going to go and ask her to kick it with us, alright? She just seems bored and lonely.” Actually she didn’t, she seemed pretty absorbed into her book.
“Why do you f*cking care?” It was Meera. Meera was a good friend of mine for a long time. But lately she’s just been getting on my nerves.
“What is the big deal guys? Just let him go.” Said Kathir, who was 23. The oldest out of us all.
“Alright, later fellas.” I said.
“I’m gonna tell Shwetha, and she’s gonna tell your mom.” Swetha was my sis. But she would never do something like that. But then again, she might.
“Where is Shwetha anyway?” asked Meenu looking around.
“Shez over there, with her friends.” I said and ignored what Meera said, and started toward the pretty girl.
As I pushed myself through the crowd, I heard several things from different chatters from people of different age groups. Baby Diapers. Camry Gas Consumption. The Iraq War. Gas Prices. Radhika in Selvi. Hectic Projects. Kumaran Silks. Erectile Dysfunction…..WOW!! I stopped and turned around to see who was talking about it. It was too hard to make out who’s conversation said what. Like looking for a person who whistles in a Rajinikanth Movie. Wow…that was a horrible analogy, but anywayz, I continued to walk ahead. After swimming through the crowd, I finally came to her. She sat there, holding her brown hair up with her left hand, and holding her novel up with her right. She gently bit on her bottom lip as she read through the lines of her….I looked at her book…hmm….it was meant to be! The novel she was reading was “Shutter Island” by Dennis LeHane. I had read that book a few times, and it was one of my favorites. I walked up to her introduce myself. “Shutter Island eh? That’s a good book.” She looked up and blinked, looked at her book again, and said,
“Yeah it’s alright.” I sat down.
“What part are you at?”
“Teddy just finds Chuck dead.” She slightly smiled.
“Wow…the best is coming up.”
“Really? That’s good to know.”
“I’m Surya by the way.” She smiled and nodded. We just looked at each other with an awkward silence for two seconds which seemed a decade. “Uhmm..I don’t know how you do it, but uh..usually when I tell people my name, they tell me theirs.”
“Oh…” she laughed. “I’m sorry, my name is Sumithra.”
“Sumithra….nice name.” She nodded with me raising her eyebrows, and holding back a laugh which was clear because she was smiling so much.
“You think I’m an idiot don’t you?” She giggled. Giggling is a funny sound, you guys ever notice that?
“No I don’t, why would you say that?” She said after her giggle.
“Well, I saw that you were trying your best, to not laugh at me.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you, that was just an awkward conversation.” She was different. She was a lot friendlier than most people I had talked to.
“Okay, lets talk about something else. I haven’t seen you around here before. Did you just move here or something?” I asked.
“No, I’m from San Diego, I just came here to visit my grandparents this summer. They’re here somewhere talking to their friends probably.” She said looking around her.
“Hmm..ok. So do you go to a College there?”
“UCSD.” We did some more nodding. “What about you?” She asked.
“I go to UC Davis.” Some more nodding.
“So, Surya. Whats up?”
“Nothing really, I saw that you were by yourself, and I was wondering if you could come kick it with..” I said when a noise made me stop. My heart jumped. Someone with a voice that sounded a lot like my mothers had just yelled “BUJJU” from behind me. Oh no wait…I should’ve…oh man. This is horrible narration. My nickname is Bujju, my parents have called me that ever since I can remember. So back to the story. I stopped and turned around.
“Unna ange ennoda irruka sonna..inge enna pannre?!” she was furious.
“No mom, I was just talking to Sumi…”
“Aratai-ya? Wovoru Varushamum un kitte ange irruka soluven nee engayavathu odiduve!” she said and slapped the back of my head as hard as she could. I closed my eyes and prayed with all my heart that this was all some sort of wacko hallucination going on in my head. I looked at Sumithra, who was now stumped, and in a very awkward situation. “Yenakunu vanthu vaachirukkiye! Yen Thalai Ezuthu! Somberi Somberi!” My stomach started to turn, I felt like running out of there with my face buried in my palms. “Innum 5 nimishatule nee kitchenle irrukanum! If I don’t see you there! I’m really going to embarrass you in front of all these people!” she said and walked back. Was it just my mother, or do all mothers try to embarrass their sons to the extreme when they’re talking to pretty girls? Thankfully no one else had heard any of this except Sumithra. I looked at her, and she was trying to avoid eye contact with me looking at the rug, with a very embarrassing and awkward expression on her face. She had the expression that someone would if their father-in-law’s dog was humping their leg. I had to change something….
“So anywayz, I was wondering if you could kick it..”
“I would really go to the kitchen if I were you Surya.” She said still avoiding eye contact. I almost cried. I got up.
“Oh yeah.” I tried to smile, but my face probably looked like a Halloween Pumpkin. “I’ll see you..uh…..yeah..later.” I said and started to walk back to the stairs. On my way to the stairs I saw my friends feeling sorry for me, and Meera with a wide smile, showing me all her teeth. God! I HATE HER!
---------------------------------------------------The End----------------------------------------------
So there it is…:oops: :lol: What do u think? :huh: Funny? Obnoxious? What?
This is my first piece of non-fiction (other than Class Essays) which I’ve tried to put in a Humorous fashion. (U may not find it that way, if it is an utter kadi, please let me know.) Like I said, it’s non-fiction, it really happened to me, there is a little bit of fiction, but for the most part, it is non-fiction. What you are about to read, is something that I will remember till I go to my grave. It is literally, the most embarrassed, and ashamed that I’ve been in front of a girl. Wait…no it isn’t, but it’s up there, in the top 3. You may find it funny, you may find it cruel (as I did :cry:), but I’ll bet that this will make you wish that you are never me, even in your forth coming births. But as the Tamil proverb goes, “Marappom…Sirippom.” ( I know it doesn’t go like that, but it works in this situation, so gimmie a break. :roll: )
The Setting:
So every year, the local Siddhi Vinayakar temple here hosts a small get-together (actually it’s rather large, the crowd comes out to about 200 Desies, speaking different langs, so most elders (married people over 35 years of age) communicate in the thick desi accent, where the men’s conversations are filled with World Politics, Microsoft, Nasdaq, and bragging about which university their son or daughter got into, and what their SAT Scores were and so on. And the women’s conversations are filled with family politics, jewellery, sarees, and bragging about which university their son or daughter got into and what their SAT Scores were and so on.) wow…that was a long bracket..where was I? Oh yeah..hosts a small get-together, and people come there to socialize in their own way by discussing what they find as interesting. As the elders are busy with their own boring conversations, the semi-youngies (ages 27-34) are busy in their own things. Married Couples, which most of them are, speak with other married couples, about their car payments, their future in their jobs, and their new preciously cute babies, and what they like and what is allergic to them, and so on and so forth. The next Age group is one of those who are 24-27. These guys just got their jobs, or have been working for their company only for the past couple years or so, and are working hard to get ahead. They stand around talking about things which are a bit more entertaining. A little of the Movie Industry, a little joke every now and then, and last but not least, their terrifying project managers who ride them like wild mustangs. The next age group, (ages 14-22) are the ones with absolutely no worries. They’re all in High School or in College, and their environment is completely laid back. All they talk about is things about people from the opposite sex, video games, make-up (both based on what sex they are) a lot about movies, actors, and funny stories about things that happened in classes or whatever. The next age group are kids below 14. All they do is pretend to be Superman, or who ever is hot now, and do somersaults on the carpet. Some of them would occationally get hurt and scream at the top of their lungs, and someone from the 27-34 age group would come to take care of them, calm them down, and talk to their fellow age group about how their son or daughter got hurt by doing somersaults for the next half hour. WHEW!! So that the setting. You can imagine what it looks like.
My Story:
Usually, when these things happen every year, a group of elder women volunteer to cook for this event, and take care of the food serving etc etc. This year just as any other year, my mom was one of them. And as always, I was expected to not hang out with the people of my age group, (14-22) and expected to help my mother with all the food. (why me? WHY ME?!?? WHY ME?? OH LORD! WHY ME?!) anywayz…as usual, I’d ditch my mother, and slip out when she isn’t looking and join up with my friends. This year was no different. Just when my mother was pouring the hot oil, which contained mustard seeds, curry leaves, perumgayam, and some other stuff into the huge container of thayir saadham, I slowly tiptoed out of the temple kitchen which had about nine other elder women doing their own thing, and ran to my friends.
So there I was, just chatting away with my friends, Vishnu, Meera, Meenu, Kathir, Akshay, Arjun, and Vinod, when I see a beautiful girl, sitting all by herself, reading a book across the huge grass lawn. She was probably 5’9, slim, a little on the lighter side, and had pretty eyes that moved with the lines in her book. “Hey guys..who’s that?” I asked.
“We were talking about her earlier dude, we don’t know, first time I’m seeing her around. She’z hella fine huh?” Said Vishnu. I nodded. “I wanted to go talk to her, but my mom’s right there eyeing my every other minute.” He said looking into his coke can.
“I feel for you holms! Alright, I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“No you’re not!” It was Meenu. Sigh!
“Meenz, it’s just a friendly chat….k? I’m just going to go and ask her to kick it with us, alright? She just seems bored and lonely.” Actually she didn’t, she seemed pretty absorbed into her book.
“Why do you f*cking care?” It was Meera. Meera was a good friend of mine for a long time. But lately she’s just been getting on my nerves.
“What is the big deal guys? Just let him go.” Said Kathir, who was 23. The oldest out of us all.
“Alright, later fellas.” I said.
“I’m gonna tell Shwetha, and she’s gonna tell your mom.” Swetha was my sis. But she would never do something like that. But then again, she might.
“Where is Shwetha anyway?” asked Meenu looking around.
“Shez over there, with her friends.” I said and ignored what Meera said, and started toward the pretty girl.
As I pushed myself through the crowd, I heard several things from different chatters from people of different age groups. Baby Diapers. Camry Gas Consumption. The Iraq War. Gas Prices. Radhika in Selvi. Hectic Projects. Kumaran Silks. Erectile Dysfunction…..WOW!! I stopped and turned around to see who was talking about it. It was too hard to make out who’s conversation said what. Like looking for a person who whistles in a Rajinikanth Movie. Wow…that was a horrible analogy, but anywayz, I continued to walk ahead. After swimming through the crowd, I finally came to her. She sat there, holding her brown hair up with her left hand, and holding her novel up with her right. She gently bit on her bottom lip as she read through the lines of her….I looked at her book…hmm….it was meant to be! The novel she was reading was “Shutter Island” by Dennis LeHane. I had read that book a few times, and it was one of my favorites. I walked up to her introduce myself. “Shutter Island eh? That’s a good book.” She looked up and blinked, looked at her book again, and said,
“Yeah it’s alright.” I sat down.
“What part are you at?”
“Teddy just finds Chuck dead.” She slightly smiled.
“Wow…the best is coming up.”
“Really? That’s good to know.”
“I’m Surya by the way.” She smiled and nodded. We just looked at each other with an awkward silence for two seconds which seemed a decade. “Uhmm..I don’t know how you do it, but uh..usually when I tell people my name, they tell me theirs.”
“Oh…” she laughed. “I’m sorry, my name is Sumithra.”
“Sumithra….nice name.” She nodded with me raising her eyebrows, and holding back a laugh which was clear because she was smiling so much.
“You think I’m an idiot don’t you?” She giggled. Giggling is a funny sound, you guys ever notice that?
“No I don’t, why would you say that?” She said after her giggle.
“Well, I saw that you were trying your best, to not laugh at me.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you, that was just an awkward conversation.” She was different. She was a lot friendlier than most people I had talked to.
“Okay, lets talk about something else. I haven’t seen you around here before. Did you just move here or something?” I asked.
“No, I’m from San Diego, I just came here to visit my grandparents this summer. They’re here somewhere talking to their friends probably.” She said looking around her.
“Hmm..ok. So do you go to a College there?”
“UCSD.” We did some more nodding. “What about you?” She asked.
“I go to UC Davis.” Some more nodding.
“So, Surya. Whats up?”
“Nothing really, I saw that you were by yourself, and I was wondering if you could come kick it with..” I said when a noise made me stop. My heart jumped. Someone with a voice that sounded a lot like my mothers had just yelled “BUJJU” from behind me. Oh no wait…I should’ve…oh man. This is horrible narration. My nickname is Bujju, my parents have called me that ever since I can remember. So back to the story. I stopped and turned around.
“Unna ange ennoda irruka sonna..inge enna pannre?!” she was furious.
“No mom, I was just talking to Sumi…”
“Aratai-ya? Wovoru Varushamum un kitte ange irruka soluven nee engayavathu odiduve!” she said and slapped the back of my head as hard as she could. I closed my eyes and prayed with all my heart that this was all some sort of wacko hallucination going on in my head. I looked at Sumithra, who was now stumped, and in a very awkward situation. “Yenakunu vanthu vaachirukkiye! Yen Thalai Ezuthu! Somberi Somberi!” My stomach started to turn, I felt like running out of there with my face buried in my palms. “Innum 5 nimishatule nee kitchenle irrukanum! If I don’t see you there! I’m really going to embarrass you in front of all these people!” she said and walked back. Was it just my mother, or do all mothers try to embarrass their sons to the extreme when they’re talking to pretty girls? Thankfully no one else had heard any of this except Sumithra. I looked at her, and she was trying to avoid eye contact with me looking at the rug, with a very embarrassing and awkward expression on her face. She had the expression that someone would if their father-in-law’s dog was humping their leg. I had to change something….
“So anywayz, I was wondering if you could kick it..”
“I would really go to the kitchen if I were you Surya.” She said still avoiding eye contact. I almost cried. I got up.
“Oh yeah.” I tried to smile, but my face probably looked like a Halloween Pumpkin. “I’ll see you..uh…..yeah..later.” I said and started to walk back to the stairs. On my way to the stairs I saw my friends feeling sorry for me, and Meera with a wide smile, showing me all her teeth. God! I HATE HER!
---------------------------------------------------The End----------------------------------------------
So there it is…:oops: :lol: What do u think? :huh: Funny? Obnoxious? What?