"Amma your laptop has gotten the blue screen" the monster screams periodically. She uses my old Vaio sometimes. To do 'HeyMath' - no, I don't know what that means. She was also diligently doing the math olympiad e-quiz for a couple of weeks. I thought it was kind of nice that they were putting up new questions every day. But also kind of not nice that for 8 year olds they would have a lucky draw for the prizes. I never win in lucky draws, ever. And nor did my baby. I think its because in parts of life that really matter, I am very lucky. My family. My health. Stuff like that.
Anyway usually its not really the blue screen. Its the booting up process still or its something thats actually blue - like a desktop photo or whatever. Of course I freak out big time if I get the blue screen, the monkey, she knows that. In passing, she also accused me of hanging on my laptop way more than actually reading, of late. While trying to convince me that she loves books more than I do. And such like.
I went to an evening meeting last week, at work. I could've just stayed back at the office. But I made a presentation in the afternoon and as a consequence was sweating big time. I couldn't stand it any longer. So as day turned to dusk, I returned home. Which was good because I had to do some work towards her Tamil Cycle Test. I know my mum never really sat down with me for school work. Nor did my dad, in fact, and it was only later on that I would go ask him my Chemistry doubts (and yes, he was painful at those times - never just giving me the answer - always making me bring him his fat books and trying to make me pore over irrelevant pieces of it). But thats cool. I like school work. I like groping around half-blind in Tamil trying to make sense. I do severe pattern match when I write down questions for her to write answers to, as my spelling sucks. As does my vocabulary, pronunciation, enunciation, and pretty much every other aspect you can think of.
I drove myself to the campus after the studying. I found a cool thing - you can go on moving through FM channels so that throughout your commute you can listen to Kolaveri Di - like umpteen times. I know that damn thing by heart now. Reached there just in the nick of time. Encountered a few of my colleagues at the entrance - we were supposed to meet with some of the bigwigs. One of them, he is a good friend. We have run together in the past. Our kids are the same age. We have some collaborations, research-wise. But I haven't met him recently, thats for sure. But for a long time, I was staring at him, saying hello and asking the right questions, I had no idea what his name was. I blanked out. You know I have buckets I put people in in my stupid head. So I knew the bucket he was in (you don't want to know). But his name? Just was NOT showing up in the brain ticker. Till like an hour into the meeting when suddenly it popped up inside a pink coloured balloon.
The lady who sweeps my office, she is one of my friends at work. She has many complaints about her family. She constantly tells me to go have a second child. We obviously talk often, although many a time I am deep inside my laptop, at my desk when she is walking around me chatting. Its not a real excuse - that I was proofing some papers - but I called her Saroja like five times. Saroja is my house-maid person. Super scary woman she is. Big-sized with big bindis and a big voice and so on. And this lady is like 'Its ok madam doesn't matter' when I apologised. I should have hidden under the desk or something.
I get in several fights with my husband because I just don't remember things. Of course he forgets things too but manages to bluster his way through them. When I forget something, I unashamedly accept that I have forgotten and apologise profusely for it. I don't think I can help it. Its NOT a testament to the importance (or lack thereof) of that thing. Its just that I am losing grey matter. As are you. I of course apologise for the fact that I have completely and thoroughly forgotten you - though I travelled to a conference with you (apparently) and we hung out and shared many a laugh (apparently). Of course I feel bad about it. But not too bad because, you know what? I cannot help it. Its my blue screen moment. And it WAS 11 years ago...
Anyway usually its not really the blue screen. Its the booting up process still or its something thats actually blue - like a desktop photo or whatever. Of course I freak out big time if I get the blue screen, the monkey, she knows that. In passing, she also accused me of hanging on my laptop way more than actually reading, of late. While trying to convince me that she loves books more than I do. And such like.
I went to an evening meeting last week, at work. I could've just stayed back at the office. But I made a presentation in the afternoon and as a consequence was sweating big time. I couldn't stand it any longer. So as day turned to dusk, I returned home. Which was good because I had to do some work towards her Tamil Cycle Test. I know my mum never really sat down with me for school work. Nor did my dad, in fact, and it was only later on that I would go ask him my Chemistry doubts (and yes, he was painful at those times - never just giving me the answer - always making me bring him his fat books and trying to make me pore over irrelevant pieces of it). But thats cool. I like school work. I like groping around half-blind in Tamil trying to make sense. I do severe pattern match when I write down questions for her to write answers to, as my spelling sucks. As does my vocabulary, pronunciation, enunciation, and pretty much every other aspect you can think of.
I drove myself to the campus after the studying. I found a cool thing - you can go on moving through FM channels so that throughout your commute you can listen to Kolaveri Di - like umpteen times. I know that damn thing by heart now. Reached there just in the nick of time. Encountered a few of my colleagues at the entrance - we were supposed to meet with some of the bigwigs. One of them, he is a good friend. We have run together in the past. Our kids are the same age. We have some collaborations, research-wise. But I haven't met him recently, thats for sure. But for a long time, I was staring at him, saying hello and asking the right questions, I had no idea what his name was. I blanked out. You know I have buckets I put people in in my stupid head. So I knew the bucket he was in (you don't want to know). But his name? Just was NOT showing up in the brain ticker. Till like an hour into the meeting when suddenly it popped up inside a pink coloured balloon.
The lady who sweeps my office, she is one of my friends at work. She has many complaints about her family. She constantly tells me to go have a second child. We obviously talk often, although many a time I am deep inside my laptop, at my desk when she is walking around me chatting. Its not a real excuse - that I was proofing some papers - but I called her Saroja like five times. Saroja is my house-maid person. Super scary woman she is. Big-sized with big bindis and a big voice and so on. And this lady is like 'Its ok madam doesn't matter' when I apologised. I should have hidden under the desk or something.
I get in several fights with my husband because I just don't remember things. Of course he forgets things too but manages to bluster his way through them. When I forget something, I unashamedly accept that I have forgotten and apologise profusely for it. I don't think I can help it. Its NOT a testament to the importance (or lack thereof) of that thing. Its just that I am losing grey matter. As are you. I of course apologise for the fact that I have completely and thoroughly forgotten you - though I travelled to a conference with you (apparently) and we hung out and shared many a laugh (apparently). Of course I feel bad about it. But not too bad because, you know what? I cannot help it. Its my blue screen moment. And it WAS 11 years ago...
1 comment:
Better than calling it a senior moment, which I know I often have!
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