My Collection Of Bloopers

Mum was telling me about her company annual get together coming up and I realised that's it's gonna be a year since the biggest blooper in my life so far. And I still got friends like Smita continuously asking me to repeat the story and laughing their guts out. So well, that got me thinking of the other bloopers in my life and realised I had enough to give Mr. Bean a complex. So why not put them down and give everyone a good laugh - I mean 'Laughter is the best medicine' - right

Eighth standard - Sitting with Sherin in the school hall for mass and got cramps in my leg. Got up to receive Holy Communion and fell down in the middle of the hall, in front of all the catholic girls. Sherin was more embarrassed than me. After that, every day, a girl in school would look at me and say 'Girlie, girlie, weren't you the one who had that fall in the hall?'
Tenth standard - Overnight colony picnic at Gorai. It was way into the night and I was sitting on the wall of Henriques shack with Olivia, while Eddie stood on the rocks below. Decided it was a good time to pick a fight with my brother and voila, the next thing I knew, I landed on the rocks below. I blanked out for a few seconds and woke up to hear my brother's voice 'Rochu, rochu, do you still remember me....' My uncle, Fr Edwin, is sure they built a well there as a result of the impact!!!
College days -
- Bunked college to go for a movie, running at Sterling, with Preeti and Vanessa. The train reached Churchgate station and we girls were so busy chatting that we didn't realise at all and sat in the train till it started proceeding back towards Borivali !!! Icing on the cake was me asking another woman in the compartment - 'This train goes only till Marine Lines station, kya?' I won’t get into the details of how the poor thing started giving us juvenile girls directions on how to reach Churchgate.
- Developed this crazy fondness for the tweety bird, in all sizes and shapes, toothbrush holder, tiffin box etc etc. So i was gifted this curio of a tweety bird with a transparent suction holder at the other end, to affix on glass. Since there was no glass around, I stuck it to my forehead and started goofing around. When I removed it after an hour, I realised a white mark in the shape of a circle had formed on my forehead - it remained there for a week.
Youth group - We were organising a contest of some sort for the parish youth and I was given the job of gift wrapping prizes. Some of the prizes were books and I spent around an hour wrapping them in gift paper. It was only when Eddie and Fr Magi burst out laughing that I realised that instead of gift wrapping the books, I was covering them - like you cover school books - in gift wrapping paper.
2004 - The year I bought my car and took it for choir practice. I was still a learner and pretty raw and nervous while driving. Yoko from my choir was busy drawing some characters on the windshield of my car, inspite of my repeated requests to move away, while I reversed from the parking lot. Anyways, I thought she moved a bit and reversed the car, when suddenly I heard her scream. I immediately braked, her screams reached a higher pitch (she is a soprano in my choir) - Why - I had stopped the car bang on her right foot. Ouch
2007 - Alwyn placed an order for a bath tub and when it arrived, it was not fitting in his bath room. It was the shop keeper's fault for taking the wrong measurements, but he was not taking it back. So I decided to help out and posed as a journalist sitting in my car, outside the shop, while Alwyn threatened the shop keeper about reporting the incident to the press. I then started clicking snaps from within my car - it really scared the shop keeper, but I didn’t realise that some old youth group friends of mine were staying in the flat above the shop and started wondering why I was clicking snaps of the shop below them. I had to drive away before they started calling out my name! Btw, the shop keeper did take the bath tub back.
Blooper of Bloopers - Accompanied mom to her company annual thanksgiving mass and lunch. Was sitting with my mom's cousin and her family and enjoying a thick almost frozen slice of malai kulfi. Since the chill was a bit too much to bear, I was keeping the rectangular spoon in my mouth for few seconds, till the kulfi reached room temperature, and then proceeded to gulp it down. Everything was going fine for the first few morsels, after which - here we go - the spoon got stuck to the upper palette of my mouth. (Oh God, Smita, stop laughing). Yup, the spoon got stuck there and remained there for a good ten mins. So I was running between the hall and the toilet with a spoon half stuck in my mouth. People thought that I came up with a new game and was playing it all alone. After my mom, my aunt, other well wishers had their initial laughs and realised this was serious business, they all took their chances at pulling the spoon out, not realising there was tender skin at the other end. My agony ended, thanks to an experienced nurse, who didn’t look half as surprised as the others around. I think she's encountered many antique pieces like me who get spoons stuck to their mouth.

Well, I’m sure this is not the end of it. As Ozzie rightfully says, I’m prone to disasters. Scraped my wrists on a rusty bridge at national park last month, fell down on my mossy building slope within a week after that. Today, as I write this article, my right ankle is swollen and wrapped in crape bandage - I really don’t know how and when I twisted it. This morning, as Smita and I got out of the bus, I realised the kurta I was wearing had a hole in it - no idea when or where I managed to tear it. The last time I managed to tear my clothes was while travelling with Vrinda and Brynelle in an auto rickshaw and I tried to jump out from the side blocked by the steel rod.
So yes, I am adding 'Collecting Bloopers' to my list of hobbies. You can keep watching this space to find out which new ones I add in the coming days.

For Our Tomorrow, A Little Peace

I love Mumbai with all my heart. Been here for twenty years, love this city and it’s never dying spirit. I may grumble about its traffic and the pollution and the filth, but that does not mean I love this city any less. This year, I even toyed with the thoughts of spending one day like a true Mumbaikar, join my fellow Catholics at Mount Mary Bandra on Sunday morning, break fast with the Muslims at Mohammed Ali Road in the evening and end the day with the Ganapati Visarjan at Chowpatty beach. But the way things turned out this last weekend, my happy patriotic thoughts turned into those of anger and depression.

I learned about the blasts at New Delhi on Saturday evening and immediately contacted my friends there to make sure they were ok. The same way I had contacted my cousins in Bangalore and my office colleague at Ahmedabad during the previous blasts. Luckily, all were safe. But for how long – how long more would we escape unscathed from the atrocities happening all around. What about that family in Delhi which lost 11 people in the blasts or that woman in Ahmedabad who lost her husband and son, outside the hospital. What about those 30 people who died in my very own Borivali during the train blasts three years back? They were not so lucky, not lucky like me. Which city will be hit next?

Smita and I went to Mount Mary on Sunday and the place was swarming with hundreds and thousands of people. We found it difficult to even step into the church without getting tossed around. Later in the day, I watched on television as thousands of people embarked onto the various immersion points for the Ganapati Visarjan. This, despite the bomb blasts that happened just the previous day. It’s like people were immune to the events that were happening around them. It’s become a part of life. Heavy rains can bring Mumbai to a standstill but not bomb blasts. It was so scary, so terrifying, the city was on high alert and one third of its people were out on the roads, ready targets for any attack. All I could do was pray, pray for the safety of all those who were at the Mount and at the various immersion points – pray that they get back safely to their families.

And then the worst news ever – Churches all across Mangalore were attacked on Sunday. My first thoughts were of Samantha – she was studying and staying in a catholic hostel right there. This time too I was lucky – she was safe and sound. Relatives of other friends in Mangalore were also unhurt, though terribly shaken up. We were barely over the atrocities in Orissa and now this – so much closer to home. When will this end – where will they attack us next – Goa, Mumbai? I mean, it was a Sunday; people must have been going to Church, just like we did. Going about their peaceful Sunday routines and from nowhere you’re attacked. Innocent people being killed, for no fault of theirs.

No moral of the story to give this time, I don’t have any. Just few words of a song I learned in school

Just like a flower when winter begins, just like a candle blown out in the wind,
Just like a bird that can no longer fly, I’m feeling that way sometimes.
And then when I’m flying way down by the low, I picture a line at the end of the row,
And closing my eyes I can see through the dark, a dream that is in my heart.

A little loving, a little giving,

to build a dream for the world we live in.
A little patience and understanding,
For our tomorrow – A little peace.

A little sunshine, a sea of gladness,

to wash away all the tears of sadness.
A little hoping, a little grace
For our tomorrow – A little peace.