Thursday, August 02, 2012

Movies, books, reviews and shows

Reviews:
Puma El Rey Future shoes
Movie : Zero Dark Thirty
Movie : Cabin in the Woods
Site : Couponduniya
The Karachi Deception by Shatrujeet Nath
The Stopover by Deepa Pinto and Ram Prakash
Once Upon the Tracks of Mumbai by Rishi Vohra
The Krishna Key by Ashwin Sanghi
The Devotion of Suspect X by Keigo Higashino.

Lists:
Movies so bad you will love them


Goosebump moments in movies

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Draw me, Mr Artist...

I used to love it when I had a penpal. She was actually my classmate from school who had gone abroad for higher studies. We were casual friends during our school days but became closer as the years passed by, thanks to these letters. Every month, I'd look forward to getting my mail at the hostel, recounting what all had transpired in the past month in her life, before getting down to penning my own highlight reel for the month. Via this simple act, we gave each other a glimpse into our lives. Distance was a factor back then... and by back then, of course, I mean, a short decade ago. Emails just seemed to lack the personal touch that a hand written letter, replete with little scribbles and yes, even smiley faces, provided.

I was reminded of this for an entirely different reason, of course. Recently, I've been hooked onto the latest Android application craze, Draw Something. For those who don't know, it's kind of a mobile/tablet version of Pictionary where you draw something and the other person has to guess. Only here, you don't just see the final picture provided by your friend. You get to see the whole act of the drawing starting from the first 'pencil' stroke. As they try to make you guess words as varied as 'Dracula', 'pitcher','New York' and 'ugly' using their drawing skills, it is often not just challenging, but also downright hilarious. And it's not just about the creativity - for many, it's a chance to free the child within once more ; drawing on a colouring book with your fingers and asking others to guess your little masterpieces. 

It also struck me about how far we've come along. A decade ago, I would have to wait for an aging postman to deliver mail to a dinghy little hostel in my corner of the world, just to know how my friend was and read between the lines to get an insight into her mind. Today, I can see the thought processes of people across the world from USA to Singapore, Penang to Pune and even Holland, as they are thinking it. I can understand what they are trying to convey even before they finish drawing a single black line. 

They say technology has driven us further apart. I disagree. It's our own personal choices which determine whether we choose to stay further apart. I say, technology has brought us closer than ever before.  Games like this grant us that opportunity to interact instantly with a world beyond which our own two feet and wallet can carry us, while simultaneously giving us an opportunity to relive our childhood, be it ever so briefly. 


P.S. I just had to share this hilarious picture. It's 'apparently' the first time Draw Something was played. 
I wonder how we all missed it while watching the movie.




P.P.S. This post is part of the 'Internet is fun with Vodafone' contest.
I used to love it when I had a penpal. She was actually my classmate from school who had gone abroad for higher studies. We were casual friends during our school days but became closer as the years passed by, thanks to these letters. Every month, I'd look forward to getting my mail at the hostel, recounting what all had transpired in the past month in her life, before getting down to penning my own highlight reel for the month. Via this simple act, we gave each other a glimpse into our lives. Distance was a factor back then... and by back then, of course, I mean, a short decade ago. Emails just seemed to lack the personal touch that a hand written letter, replete with little scribbles and yes, even smiley faces, provided.

I was reminded of this for an entirely different reason, of course. Recently, I've been hooked onto the latest Android application craze, Draw Something. For those who don't know, it's kind of a mobile/tablet version of Pictionary where you draw something and the other person has to guess. Only here, you don't just see the final picture provided by your friend. You get to see the whole act of the drawing starting from the first 'pencil' stroke. As they try to make you guess words as varied as 'Dracula', 'pitcher','New York' and 'ugly' using their drawing skills, it is often not just challenging, but also downright hilarious. And it's not just about the creativity - for many, it's a chance to free the child within once more ; drawing on a colouring book with your fingers and asking others to guess your little masterpieces. 

It also struck me about how far we've come along. A decade ago, I would have to wait for an aging postman to deliver mail to a dinghy little hostel in my corner of the world, just to know how my friend was and read between the lines to get an insight into her mind. Today, I can see the thought processes of people across the world from USA to Singapore, Penang to Pune and even Holland, as they are thinking it. I can understand what they are trying to convey even before they finish drawing a single black line. 

They say technology has driven us further apart. I disagree. It's our own personal choices which determine whether we choose to stay further apart. I say, technology has brought us closer than ever before.  Games like this grant us that opportunity to interact instantly with a world beyond which our own two feet and wallet can carry us, while simultaneously giving us an opportunity to relive our childhood, be it ever so briefly. 


P.S. I just had to share this hilarious picture. It's 'apparently' the first time Draw Something was played. 
I wonder how we all missed it while watching the movie.




P.P.S. This post is part of the 'Internet is fun with Vodafone' contest.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Son of a greater God





"O God and Heavenly Father,
Grant to us the serenity of mind to accept that which cannot be changed;
the courage to change that which can be changed,
and the wisdom to know the one from the other."
- The Serenity Prayer


When I was a kid, I used to get ill a lot. I had a lot of respiratory infections and must have been a real burden to my parents. My God never stopped caring though. He ensured I was always given the best hospital’s tender loving care.

When I was a kid, God showed me the miracle of driving a car without touching the steering wheel. Years later, I realised that the car accelerated because of those funny ‘leg cushions’ below the steering wheel.

As a kid, I learnt from God the joys of watching musclemen fake their way in a sport called wrestling. 2 decades later, I no longer watch the game, but I keep up with what’s going on so that I can enjoy listening to God’s view on who’s been ‘naughty and nice’ in the ring.

As a kid, I went to the best schools, had the best education and all the comforts. God ensured I had all this so that his children wouldn’t suffer like he did.
As a kid, I demanded Kinder and Galaxy chocolates, new clothes every other month and endless He-man comics. God never said no, no matter how thin his wallet was.
As I kid, I watched God be generous beyond his means, giving shelter to homeless immigrants till they found a place to live and never take anything in return. In return they abandoned him once their needs were fulfilled. It broke his heart over and over but he carried on.

As a kid, I watched him play pranks on his friends and thus learnt the fine art myself... one of the few traits I’m proud to say I can match him at.

When the time came, like in his own case, God directed me to leave the place where I was comfortable... the only place I’d ever called home. I questioned the need for it in my heart, but eventually relented. Years later, I see the wisdom in his actions. If my initial home, Dubai, gave me my moral values and nature, my new home ( a country I’d seen more in a geography textbook than in real life ) made me who I am today.

As I grew up, I turned away from my God, my own self serving needs better served elsewhere in the company of friends and peers. Still, whenever our paths crossed, he never wavered from showing his love the way he does best – in actions rather than words.

 There was no open declaration of undying love – just a glass of banana milk shake painstakingly made at 6 am before he left for work or his own great chicken biryani which he slaved over after coming home for his lunch break while I lay on the couch watching TV endlessly.
As I grew up, he guided me to my destiny, opening all the doors for me as I joined medical school. Never once was I found wanting for cash in those lavish teenage years. As the son ate at 3 star hotels with friends, God sat alone or with his spouse eating carrots and leftovers.

As I grew up, I erred in judgement. I chose the wrong crowd and forced my will upon God. I forced a life altering decision upon him. He agreed to my demands... in 2 seconds. He was happy that I was happy. Nothing else mattered.
When my decision backfired and all hell broke loose, he carried on despite his own weakened heart, carrying me as I fell again and again till finally I was safe again. Never once did he point an accusing finger in my direction for the flames that singed us all.

Today, 9 years after I joined the field of medicine, I’m still dependent on him for my needs. I still need his moral support to carry me through when the going gets tough.
I still need to remember how he didn’t let being an orphan affect him – how he controlled his destiny and saved so many people’s lives. How he succeeded against all odds and yet took no pleasures in his golden years, sacrificing it all for his children.

God, I want you to know I haven’t forgotten. I still carry the memories. Of the trips to the zoo ( and the tiger that aimed and pissed at us ), of the shawarma dinners ( that I thought was a national dish ) that have carried over from Dubai to Kannur over these 2 decades. Of the time you sent a poor soul who’d asked where to deliver an A/C to a major 5 star hotel when he rang up our number by mistake. Of the endless times you listened to us kids talk rot without being condescending or forcing your will upon us. Of the time you shielded me from the fact that my dog passed away on my birthday. I still remember the advice you’ve given me as I joined high school, then college and finally my post graduate studies.

People who know me well say a lot about how I’m a do-gooder, a prankster, a kind soul doomed to be fooled repeatedly, a person who makes those around him happy even when he’s suffering.



I tell them the truth – that I may have gotten my mother’s looks, but knowingly or unknowingly, I've inherited my God’s personality.
I wish there was more I could do to make up for the time we’ve lost or make your life more comfortable.
God willing, someday, I will.
But till then, I just want to say,

I Love you, Dad.
And Happy Birthday too.



This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com




"O God and Heavenly Father,
Grant to us the serenity of mind to accept that which cannot be changed;
the courage to change that which can be changed,
and the wisdom to know the one from the other."
- The Serenity Prayer


When I was a kid, I used to get ill a lot. I had a lot of respiratory infections and must have been a real burden to my parents. My God never stopped caring though. He ensured I was always given the best hospital’s tender loving care.

When I was a kid, God showed me the miracle of driving a car without touching the steering wheel. Years later, I realised that the car accelerated because of those funny ‘leg cushions’ below the steering wheel.

As a kid, I learnt from God the joys of watching musclemen fake their way in a sport called wrestling. 2 decades later, I no longer watch the game, but I keep up with what’s going on so that I can enjoy listening to God’s view on who’s been ‘naughty and nice’ in the ring.

As a kid, I went to the best schools, had the best education and all the comforts. God ensured I had all this so that his children wouldn’t suffer like he did.
As a kid, I demanded Kinder and Galaxy chocolates, new clothes every other month and endless He-man comics. God never said no, no matter how thin his wallet was.
As I kid, I watched God be generous beyond his means, giving shelter to homeless immigrants till they found a place to live and never take anything in return. In return they abandoned him once their needs were fulfilled. It broke his heart over and over but he carried on.

As a kid, I watched him play pranks on his friends and thus learnt the fine art myself... one of the few traits I’m proud to say I can match him at.

When the time came, like in his own case, God directed me to leave the place where I was comfortable... the only place I’d ever called home. I questioned the need for it in my heart, but eventually relented. Years later, I see the wisdom in his actions. If my initial home, Dubai, gave me my moral values and nature, my new home ( a country I’d seen more in a geography textbook than in real life ) made me who I am today.

As I grew up, I turned away from my God, my own self serving needs better served elsewhere in the company of friends and peers. Still, whenever our paths crossed, he never wavered from showing his love the way he does best – in actions rather than words.

 There was no open declaration of undying love – just a glass of banana milk shake painstakingly made at 6 am before he left for work or his own great chicken biryani which he slaved over after coming home for his lunch break while I lay on the couch watching TV endlessly.
As I grew up, he guided me to my destiny, opening all the doors for me as I joined medical school. Never once was I found wanting for cash in those lavish teenage years. As the son ate at 3 star hotels with friends, God sat alone or with his spouse eating carrots and leftovers.

As I grew up, I erred in judgement. I chose the wrong crowd and forced my will upon God. I forced a life altering decision upon him. He agreed to my demands... in 2 seconds. He was happy that I was happy. Nothing else mattered.
When my decision backfired and all hell broke loose, he carried on despite his own weakened heart, carrying me as I fell again and again till finally I was safe again. Never once did he point an accusing finger in my direction for the flames that singed us all.

Today, 9 years after I joined the field of medicine, I’m still dependent on him for my needs. I still need his moral support to carry me through when the going gets tough.
I still need to remember how he didn’t let being an orphan affect him – how he controlled his destiny and saved so many people’s lives. How he succeeded against all odds and yet took no pleasures in his golden years, sacrificing it all for his children.

God, I want you to know I haven’t forgotten. I still carry the memories. Of the trips to the zoo ( and the tiger that aimed and pissed at us ), of the shawarma dinners ( that I thought was a national dish ) that have carried over from Dubai to Kannur over these 2 decades. Of the time you sent a poor soul who’d asked where to deliver an A/C to a major 5 star hotel when he rang up our number by mistake. Of the endless times you listened to us kids talk rot without being condescending or forcing your will upon us. Of the time you shielded me from the fact that my dog passed away on my birthday. I still remember the advice you’ve given me as I joined high school, then college and finally my post graduate studies.

People who know me well say a lot about how I’m a do-gooder, a prankster, a kind soul doomed to be fooled repeatedly, a person who makes those around him happy even when he’s suffering.



I tell them the truth – that I may have gotten my mother’s looks, but knowingly or unknowingly, I've inherited my God’s personality.
I wish there was more I could do to make up for the time we’ve lost or make your life more comfortable.
God willing, someday, I will.
But till then, I just want to say,

I Love you, Dad.
And Happy Birthday too.



This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

Musings of a Dazed/Dozed/Doped mind

How old is an antique? I need to know cause I'm planning on selling a 25 year old artifact on eBay that I possess that doesn't work anymore but used to once upon a time..I call it my nose.

Is 25 old enough for it to be labelled antique..or is there something like "the older the better" like in wines ? I mean there are people with sensitive skins, minds etc..well, I possess easily the most sensitive nose. Anything can trigger a sneeze attack..Mr Smoke, Mr Dust, Mrs Dust, Dust Jr, Dust wannabes..pictures of Dust. It's like my nose is suffering from its own version of Post Traumatic Sneeze Syndrome. And these last 24 hours have been a real doozy. Now I should warn you all, my sneeze episodes are legendary...they have stopped dissections, lectures, examiners..you name it. Patients have even offered me their beds .Luckily the dissection body wasn't one of them.During any such episode, I tend to resemble the vilian in Terminator 2 everytime he got shot with that shotgun- I jump back a mile.Or so I've heard. Though I wouldn't know for sure. Cause usually I'd be so full of cold medication that I'd be walking around like a drunken monkey..totally drowsy. Which is what the last 24 hours were after having, even by my own standards, a really bad cold.

Of course, in such times, I turn to my warm, loving hot companion of many years who knows just how to keep me going..she's called a vaporiser. But even she was of no use in these last few hours as the antique-formerly-known-as-nose just refused to budge. Though i must say, thanks to my vaporiser, i think all the pores in my face are wide open now..either that or my face is melting with the heat. Nights are especially the worst..not the cold weather.It's the lack of the vaporiser.Why? Well, let's just say that having an annoyed wife and a boiling water-filled- vaporiser in the same room is not a bright idea. Even in my doped up state after taking the cold medicines, I know that much. Duh!

Of course, my trusty dog of 7 years, Ruby is always there by my bedside..she's always sleeping just feet away coming every once in awhile to my side when the sneezes get really bad. That's companionship..that's care..that's love..That's enough licking my face, Ruby!!! I used to think her licks were signs of affection. Lately though I'm beginning to wonder if she's justing seeing if I'm good to eat.She's got this faraway look in her eyes that she usually gets when she sees food nowadays when she comes to greet me. Maybe it's just my imagination. Maybe it's the medication. Maybe.

Of course, in my dreamy state induced by all the medication, soon I see the light. Like Wonder Woman's magic lasso which makes everyone reveal the truth, I too see what really is happening even as i sleep. My closed eyes see the evil Stephen King-meets- Alice in Wonderland plot that I'm living in. I hear my ever affectionate wife plotting with my ever affectionate vaporiser..they're out to kill me. My God!! It was a set-up. "We'll make it look like an accident. ha ah ha ha." The evil vaporiser i called friend lets out a steam spurt in assent.
"Are you done yet?" Even though I don't recognise the voice, the dog-breath is unmistakeable. I turn and see my ever faithful buddy of 7 years, whom I've fed off my plate, fed Danish Butter cookies while i ate nadan biscuits..Ruby, the mastermind. She's sitting in the rocking chair smoking a cigar. Cuban, I wonder? Perhaps Bill Clinton or Monica would know more on that . "I remember falling asleep" I say. Ruby looks at me with those old eyes ( 7 dog years = 49 human years. mind you ) and says -" The Truth is seldom attained in the awakened state. It is often in dreams that reality s percieved." This from the dog sitting in front of me in a yogi pose.
"Damn, how i wish i had a normal dog." I ponder aloud. The response is a strategic placement of the cigar between her fingers in what can only be descibed as " a rude gesture. " Damn those ANIMAL PLANET late night shows..what are they teaching these pets. But the gravity of the situation dawns on me then..I'm trapped with a killer wife, an evil boiling vaporiser and a really really bad dog..doors locked.Windows grilled. Head for the bathroom..only hope . Maybe I can get there before...

"BANG ! BANG !" I awaken partially to the incessant banging on the door.. My mother!! the saviour. The door is still locked. "Mone, are you awake ?" she calls out " It's 6 in the evening.Get up and study something." I turn around. The vaporiser sits idly on the dressing table where I'd left it. The Mrs is trying her hand at her new addiction - sudoku. Ruby sleeps idly behind the rocking chair. "Ok, Amma.. I'm coming." I holler and dazed, walk past my caring trio to the bathroom. How stupid of me to think they were out to kill me!! Yeesh, I have got to stop taking those pills..on my way, i peer at the sudoku game and spot a mistake my wife's made, then plant a kiss on Ruby's forehead as i pass.
It's only as I open the door to the bathroom that the thought crosses my mind and the sinking feeling returns - Ruby smells oddly of...cigar smoke.

I don't turn around, not an inch, as I make my way to the bathroom. I'll come out eventually...in 2009.

Epilogue :
When taking cold medication, don't drive heavy machinery..don't drive light machinery. Don' drive. If possible don't think. Just relax. But don't relax too much. Cause then you sleep.. and that's when the real nightmare begins.
P.s. Antique paper-weight for sale.. shaped like a nose.

This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com
How old is an antique? I need to know cause I'm planning on selling a 25 year old artifact on eBay that I possess that doesn't work anymore but used to once upon a time..I call it my nose.

Is 25 old enough for it to be labelled antique..or is there something like "the older the better" like in wines ? I mean there are people with sensitive skins, minds etc..well, I possess easily the most sensitive nose. Anything can trigger a sneeze attack..Mr Smoke, Mr Dust, Mrs Dust, Dust Jr, Dust wannabes..pictures of Dust. It's like my nose is suffering from its own version of Post Traumatic Sneeze Syndrome. And these last 24 hours have been a real doozy. Now I should warn you all, my sneeze episodes are legendary...they have stopped dissections, lectures, examiners..you name it. Patients have even offered me their beds .Luckily the dissection body wasn't one of them.During any such episode, I tend to resemble the vilian in Terminator 2 everytime he got shot with that shotgun- I jump back a mile.Or so I've heard. Though I wouldn't know for sure. Cause usually I'd be so full of cold medication that I'd be walking around like a drunken monkey..totally drowsy. Which is what the last 24 hours were after having, even by my own standards, a really bad cold.

Of course, in such times, I turn to my warm, loving hot companion of many years who knows just how to keep me going..she's called a vaporiser. But even she was of no use in these last few hours as the antique-formerly-known-as-nose just refused to budge. Though i must say, thanks to my vaporiser, i think all the pores in my face are wide open now..either that or my face is melting with the heat. Nights are especially the worst..not the cold weather.It's the lack of the vaporiser.Why? Well, let's just say that having an annoyed wife and a boiling water-filled- vaporiser in the same room is not a bright idea. Even in my doped up state after taking the cold medicines, I know that much. Duh!

Of course, my trusty dog of 7 years, Ruby is always there by my bedside..she's always sleeping just feet away coming every once in awhile to my side when the sneezes get really bad. That's companionship..that's care..that's love..That's enough licking my face, Ruby!!! I used to think her licks were signs of affection. Lately though I'm beginning to wonder if she's justing seeing if I'm good to eat.She's got this faraway look in her eyes that she usually gets when she sees food nowadays when she comes to greet me. Maybe it's just my imagination. Maybe it's the medication. Maybe.

Of course, in my dreamy state induced by all the medication, soon I see the light. Like Wonder Woman's magic lasso which makes everyone reveal the truth, I too see what really is happening even as i sleep. My closed eyes see the evil Stephen King-meets- Alice in Wonderland plot that I'm living in. I hear my ever affectionate wife plotting with my ever affectionate vaporiser..they're out to kill me. My God!! It was a set-up. "We'll make it look like an accident. ha ah ha ha." The evil vaporiser i called friend lets out a steam spurt in assent.
"Are you done yet?" Even though I don't recognise the voice, the dog-breath is unmistakeable. I turn and see my ever faithful buddy of 7 years, whom I've fed off my plate, fed Danish Butter cookies while i ate nadan biscuits..Ruby, the mastermind. She's sitting in the rocking chair smoking a cigar. Cuban, I wonder? Perhaps Bill Clinton or Monica would know more on that . "I remember falling asleep" I say. Ruby looks at me with those old eyes ( 7 dog years = 49 human years. mind you ) and says -" The Truth is seldom attained in the awakened state. It is often in dreams that reality s percieved." This from the dog sitting in front of me in a yogi pose.
"Damn, how i wish i had a normal dog." I ponder aloud. The response is a strategic placement of the cigar between her fingers in what can only be descibed as " a rude gesture. " Damn those ANIMAL PLANET late night shows..what are they teaching these pets. But the gravity of the situation dawns on me then..I'm trapped with a killer wife, an evil boiling vaporiser and a really really bad dog..doors locked.Windows grilled. Head for the bathroom..only hope . Maybe I can get there before...

"BANG ! BANG !" I awaken partially to the incessant banging on the door.. My mother!! the saviour. The door is still locked. "Mone, are you awake ?" she calls out " It's 6 in the evening.Get up and study something." I turn around. The vaporiser sits idly on the dressing table where I'd left it. The Mrs is trying her hand at her new addiction - sudoku. Ruby sleeps idly behind the rocking chair. "Ok, Amma.. I'm coming." I holler and dazed, walk past my caring trio to the bathroom. How stupid of me to think they were out to kill me!! Yeesh, I have got to stop taking those pills..on my way, i peer at the sudoku game and spot a mistake my wife's made, then plant a kiss on Ruby's forehead as i pass.
It's only as I open the door to the bathroom that the thought crosses my mind and the sinking feeling returns - Ruby smells oddly of...cigar smoke.

I don't turn around, not an inch, as I make my way to the bathroom. I'll come out eventually...in 2009.

Epilogue :
When taking cold medication, don't drive heavy machinery..don't drive light machinery. Don' drive. If possible don't think. Just relax. But don't relax too much. Cause then you sleep.. and that's when the real nightmare begins.
P.s. Antique paper-weight for sale.. shaped like a nose.

This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com

The trial of Ruby.

Please note that there has been no attempt to censor Ruby's face. Which means she will be mighty pissed when she reads this blog... which does not bode well for the clothes I left behind at home. But then, you only live once.. so I'll take a chance she's gonna be busy in her pooch dating sites and will miss my blog. Presenting - The trial of Ruby
How do criminals react to being caught ? Do they deny the crime outright, even with blood on their hands ? Do they turn aggressive ? Do they hide or whimper ? Do they look for the nearest object to attack you with ? FIGHT OR FLIGHT, in the end ?


These are not the best of times at home, with everyone having their share of blame games, accusations, counter accusations etc. In the midst of this, it's nice to have a calm unaffected head watching the whole ballgame of life and going about her business nonchalantly. As always, it's not the humans of the house who seem to have the most rational mind.. but then this vegetable thief has been around awhile.


Scene of the Crime : Upstairs garden verandah.
Crime : Chewing prized and painstakingly watered plants.
Suspects :
  • Ruby ( Woof ! )
  • Roshan ( The fact that I don't like green veggies is totally lost on my family at times, I swear )
  • Wildcats ( Ruby's nemesis )
  • Squirrels ( I can't believe I come above wild cats and squirrels !!)
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
Well, anyway, I decided it was time to prove my innocence ( or atleast come below the damn wildcats in the list ) so I lured the prime suspect up and let her out into the garden verandah for a minute. That's usually enough. She always goes running around hunting for the wildcats, then slowly starts sniffing around the plants.Sure enough, I soon had mobile pics of her chewing happily on a plant she finally chose after sniffing quiet a few. I called Mom to show her the culprit red handed and prove my innocence . Thats when the fun began.
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan


Hearing my calls and seeing me wagging my paw..uh, finger, Ruby came rushing out to try and escape from the scene of the crime. But alas! The Crime Patrol Mother was halfway up the stairs already and was soon growling at the dog (?) for eating her plants. FLIGHT OR FIGHT ?
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
The smart ass dog chose Fight. It was hilarious to see her push my mother's hand away whenever my mom wagged her fingers at Ruby. It was tough too.
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
Note where the dog is balancing..at the edge of the stairs and still finding the balance to paw away. Her loud barks ( dog's, not moms!! ) is another defence mechanism she uses well. She tried drowning out my mom's voice. It's kind of her way of saying - "Keep your voice down. He'll hear." Seriously. I've seen it so many times over the years, yet I never tire of how silly she looks when she starts pleading her case out.
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
Him ? Well, if there's one person she always aims to please, it's dad..around him, no tricks, no stunts. Daddy's Princess. We both ( me and mom ) realised it and so she called for my father. Hearing the term that normally brings my father along, the transformation occured.
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
Suddenly this dog became quiet as a mouse. She just sat there, ears down and stared past my mom...looking and listening for any sign of Dad coming. Now even when we goaded her and taunted her, she didn't fall. The criminal had given up FIGHT mode and was now awaiting the Executioner's arrival. This went on for the best part of 3 minutes ( that's 21 minutes in dog years, mind you ) and finally, she realised we were bluffing. That Dad was probably having a nap and wasn't coming.
Image hosted by Webshots.com
by pythoroshan
Result ? A more vigorous attack on Mom this time for playing the fool on her. More pawing away, the occasional teeth snaps and barks. Not to mention pulling at her dress as she retreated down the stairs. She did pause halfway to look up at me and howl once. An ominous growl. Then ran down to chase my mom across the sitting room.
Not that I'm scared or anything, but I'm locking the doors at night so Ruby can't get in. Doesn't hurt to be safe these days.





This entry is a part of the contest at BlogAdda.com in association with imlee.com
Please note that there has been no attempt to censor Ruby's face. Which means she will be mighty pissed when she reads this blog... which does not bode well for the clothes I left behind at home. But then, you only live once.. so I'll take a chance she's gonna be busy in her pooch dating sites and will miss my blog. Presenting - The trial of Ruby
How do criminals react to being caught ? Do they deny the crime outright, even with blood on their hands ? Do they turn aggressive ? Do they hide or whimper ? Do they look for the nearest object to attack you with ? FIGHT OR FLIGHT, in the end ?


These are not the best of times at home, with everyone having their share of blame games, accusations, counter accusations etc. In the midst of this, it's nice to have a calm unaffected head watching the whole ballgame of life and going about her business nonchalantly. As always, it's not the humans of the house who seem to have the most rational mind.. but then this vegetable thief has been around awhile.


Scene of the Crime : Upstairs garden verandah.
Crime : Chewing prized and painstakingly watered plants.
Suspects :
  • Ruby ( Woof ! )
  • Roshan ( The fact that I don't like green veggies is totally lost on my family at times, I swear )
  • Wildcats ( Ruby's nemesis )
  • Squirrels ( I can't believe I come above wild cats and squirrels !!)
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by pythoroshan
Well, anyway, I decided it was time to prove my innocence ( or atleast come below the damn wildcats in the list ) so I lured the prime suspect up and let her out into the garden verandah for a minute. That's usually enough. She always goes running around hunting for the wildcats, then slowly starts sniffing around the plants.Sure enough, I soon had mobile pics of her chewing happily on a plant she finally chose after sniffing quiet a few. I called Mom to show her the culprit red handed and prove my innocence . Thats when the fun began.
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by pythoroshan


Hearing my calls and seeing me wagging my paw..uh, finger, Ruby came rushing out to try and escape from the scene of the crime. But alas! The Crime Patrol Mother was halfway up the stairs already and was soon growling at the dog (?) for eating her plants. FLIGHT OR FIGHT ?
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by pythoroshan
The smart ass dog chose Fight. It was hilarious to see her push my mother's hand away whenever my mom wagged her fingers at Ruby. It was tough too.
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by pythoroshan
Note where the dog is balancing..at the edge of the stairs and still finding the balance to paw away. Her loud barks ( dog's, not moms!! ) is another defence mechanism she uses well. She tried drowning out my mom's voice. It's kind of her way of saying - "Keep your voice down. He'll hear." Seriously. I've seen it so many times over the years, yet I never tire of how silly she looks when she starts pleading her case out.
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by pythoroshan
Him ? Well, if there's one person she always aims to please, it's dad..around him, no tricks, no stunts. Daddy's Princess. We both ( me and mom ) realised it and so she called for my father. Hearing the term that normally brings my father along, the transformation occured.
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by pythoroshan
Suddenly this dog became quiet as a mouse. She just sat there, ears down and stared past my mom...looking and listening for any sign of Dad coming. Now even when we goaded her and taunted her, she didn't fall. The criminal had given up FIGHT mode and was now awaiting the Executioner's arrival. This went on for the best part of 3 minutes ( that's 21 minutes in dog years, mind you ) and finally, she realised we were bluffing. That Dad was probably having a nap and wasn't coming.
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by pythoroshan
Result ? A more vigorous attack on Mom this time for playing the fool on her. More pawing away, the occasional teeth snaps and barks. Not to mention pulling at her dress as she retreated down the stairs. She did pause halfway to look up at me and howl once. An ominous growl. Then ran down to chase my mom across the sitting room.
Not that I'm scared or anything, but I'm locking the doors at night so Ruby can't get in. Doesn't hurt to be safe these days.





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