Lost in translation

Sometimes people just don't get what I'm saying.

Maybe I'm not being clear, maybe I talk too fast, or maybe my train of thought just runs on extremely high-octane, super rocket engine fuel. Hard to say, really. Sometimes, it's a downer when people don't exactly think that joke was made in heaven.

Then again, sometimes, I find people who do. And that's sheer bliss.

I've been giving this some thought and I think, at some point, I'm going to do some serious research on the genetic basis of intelligence. Few things fascinate me as much as the human brain. In many ways, it is the final frontier of our science.

Anyway, like I was saying, sometimes people don't get me. I'm also able to now put more food into my mouth at one time than before. The connection? If you've already made it, mail me immediately! Methinks Australo would also be glad to make thine acquaintance - what say, boy?
In case you haven't made the connection, my mouth is now larger as a direct result of the large and lamentable number of times my foot has been introduced to my gums. Thankfully, they are now little more than casual acquaintances, meeting only in parties, under the socially lubricating influence of alcohol.

I've made some major boo boos in my time. People who knew me during my oh-so-wonderful college days might testify to that. I also had this talent for displaying excessive smartness in front of the wrong people. Case in point - first day ragging session.
I don't mind admitting I was quite nervous about this. I made a conscious effort to not put my juniors thru any significant embarassment. And it seems to have paid off - I don't remember making thick friends out of my seniors but I'd like to believe that I've made some really good ones among my juniors. You know who you are. It's a privilege. Respect is definitely earned and, more importantly, mutual.

First lesson learnt during ragging - English is useless.
Second lesson - do NOT volunteer to be the first to perform a ragging act, even if you think you can do it better than the others, even if you want to prove to the seniors that you're an intelligent guy who does not deserve to be subjected to this.
Third (painful) lesson - char anna, aath aana, baaraana, rupayi.
Aahhh..those lovely, lovely NC days.
Fourth lesson - do NOT bring intelligent, well-dressed, good looking girl/female friends into the college within your first year. You, and they, will not be the better off for it.
(But hell, it was worth it!)
The lesson list will run into a few pages...maybe some other time, then.
Hey Aus, we should round up the boys and have a nostalgia session.

As should be evident by now, yours truly has no problems whatsoever ramblin' on about nothing at all. Thankfully, along the way, I've found people who don't mind that so much. Thankfully, they know and still love me even/especially when I 'lose it'. Thankfully, I can maintain a sense of sanity (if not sanity itself) because being around them reconfirms my faith that l am not mad. And if I am, I am not alone.

Thankfully, sometimes, the people who matter get exactly what I'm saying.