Posted in WOW

Word of the Week 7th March

Word of the Week (WOW) is a weekly meme created by @Heena Rathore P. (http://heenarathorep.com/). It’s a fun way to improve vocubulary by learning new words every week.

To pariticipate, simply do a post with your word and leave a link to it as a comment o Heena’s WOW post.

wow

Here’s my WOW for 7th March, 2015:

dyspepsia • \dis-PEP-shuh\  • noun
1 : indigestion 2 : ill humor : disgruntlement
Did you know?
When people get indigestion, they are often affected by nausea, heartburn, and gas—things that can cause the world’s greatest gastronome to curse the world’s most delectable dishes. So, it is no wonder that dyspepsia, a word for indigestion, has also come to mean “ill humor” or “disgruntlement.” The word itself is ultimately derived from the Greek prefix dys- (“faulty” or “impaired”) and the verb pessein (“to cook” or “to digest”). To please the wordmonger’s appetite, we would like to end with this tasty morsel: Dyspepsia has an opposite, eupepsia—a rarely used word meaning “good digestion.”

Origin: Latin, from Greek, from dys- + pepsis digestion, from peptein, pessein to cook, digest — more at cook.

If you would like to check out more interesting words then visit Heena’s page:

Word Treasure

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Posted in WOW

Word of the Week 22nd March

Word of the Week (WOW) is a weekly meme created by @Heena Rathore P. (http://heenarathorep.com/). It’s a fun way to improve vocubulary by learning new words every week.

To pariticipate, simply do a post with your word and leave a link to it as a comment o Heena’s WOW post.

wow
firebrand • \FYRE-brand\  • noun
1 : a piece of burning wood 2 : one that creates unrest or strife (as in aggressively promoting a cause) : agitator

First use: 13th century
Synonyms: demagogue (also demagog), exciter, agitator, fomenter, incendiary, inciter, instigator, kindler, provocateur, rabble-rouser

Did you know?
The original firebrands were incendiary indeed: they were pieces of wood set burning at the fire, perhaps for use as a light or a weapon. English speakers started brandishing those literal firebrands as long ago as the 13th century. (Robinson Crusoe held one high as he rushed into a cave on his deserted island and saw “by the light of the firebrand . . . lying on the ground a monstrous, frightful old he-goat.”) But the burning embers of the wooden firebrand quickly sparked figurative uses for the term, too. By the early 14th century, firebrand was also being used for one doomed to burn in hell, and by 1382, English writers were using it for anyone who kindled mischief or inflamed passions.

 

 

If you would like to check out more interesting words then visit Heena’s page:

Word Treasure

Posted in WOW

Word of the Week 18th March

Word of the Week (WOW) is a weekly meme created by @Heena Rathore P. (http://heenarathorep.com/). It’s a fun way to improve vocubulary by learning new words every week.

To pariticipate, simply do a post with your word and leave a link to it as a comment o Heena’s WOW post.

wow

controvertible • \KAHN-truh-ver-tuh-bul\  • adjective
: capable of being disputed or opposed by reason

Origin: controversy.
First use: 1584

Did you know?
If you’re familiar with incontrovertible, you may have wondered about the existence of controvertible. Both words are direct descendants of controvert (“to dispute or oppose by reasoning”), which dates back to 1584 in English and itself derives from controversy. Controvertible was documented in print as early as 1610, and incontrovertible turned up around thirty years later. Controversy comes to us (through Anglo-French) from the Latin controversus, meaning “disputable,” and can ultimately be traced back to the Latin contro- (“against”) and versus, the past participle of vertere (“to turn”).

If you would like to check out more interesting words then visit Heena’s page:

Word Treasure

Posted in WOW

Word of the Week 13th March

Word of the Week (WOW) is a weekly meme created by @Heena Rathore P. (http://heenarathorep.com/). It’s a fun way to improve vocubulary by learning new words every week.

To pariticipate, simply do a post with your word and leave a link to it as a comment o Heena’s WOW post.

wow

nonage • \NAHnij\  • noun

1 : minority 2 a : a period of youth b : lack of maturity

Origin: Middle English, from Anglo-French, from non- + age age.
First use: 15th century
Synonyms: childhood, springtime, youth
Antonyms: adulthood

Did you know?

Minority, majority; infancy, adulthood; nonage, full age—here you have the three contrasting pairs that constitute the vocabulary of legal age. Minority, infancy, and nonage are synonyms that mean “the state or time of being under legal age.” Majority, adulthood, and full age mean “the state or time of being of legal age.” (All these words, particularly infancy and adulthood, have other meanings as well, of course.) Nonage came to us by way of Middle English from an Anglo-French union of non- and age, which combine to mean “not of age.”

If you would like to check out more interesting words then visit Heena’s page:

Word Treasure

Posted in WOW

Word of the Week-29th March

Word of the Week (WOW) is a weekly meme created by @Heena Rathore P. (http://heenarathorep.com/). It’s a fun way to improve vocubulary by learning new words every week.

To pariticipate, simply do a post with your word and leave a link to it as a comment o Heena’s WOW post.

wow

persiflage • \PER-suh-flahzh\  • noun
: frivolous bantering talk : light raillery

Origin: French, from persifler to banter, from per- thoroughly + siffler to whistle, hiss, boo, ultimately from Latin sibilare.
First use: 1757
Synonyms: backchat, badinage, chaff, give-and-take, jesting, joshing, banter, raillery, repartee

Examples:
Since the final round ended sooner than expected, the quiz show host engaged in persiflage with the contestants until it was time to sign off.

Did you know?
Unwanted persiflage on television might provoke an impatient audience to hiss or boo, but from an etymological standpoint, no other reaction could be more appropriate. English speakers picked up persiflage from French in the 18th century. Its ancestor is the French verb persifler, which means “to banter” and was formed from the prefix per-, meaning “thoroughly,” plus siffler, meaning “to whistle, hiss, or boo.” Siffler in turn derived from the Latin verb sibilare, meaning “to whistle or hiss.” By the way, sibilare is also the source of sibilant, a word linguists use to describe sounds like those made by “s” and “sh” in sash. That Latin root also underlies the verb sibilate, meaning “to hiss” or “to pronounce with or utter an initial sibilant.”

If you would like to check out more interesting words then visit Heena’s page:

Word Treasure

Posted in shout out loud

Fighting life. Fighting for life

Today I watched a video.
Felt Empty And Directionless’  Deepika Padukone o…: https://youtu.be/TwIOrxWT7Z8
It’s a NDTV interview where India’s one of the top actresses, Ms. Deepika Padukone talks of her fight with depression. As I listened to what she was saying, I was constantly drifting back and forth thinking about the emotional swing I go through. She says fighting depression needs a lot of support from family, friends, counsellors, doctors. She also said there is a huge difference between being sad and being depressed. I am not sure at all whether I am sad or I am depressed. I can’t talk to my parents, because they will be too much worried about me, now that I am away from home and it’s not possible for them to come to me now and then. Friends???? I haven’t been quite lucky with friends. So here I am all by myself with just the college counsellor trying his best to help me out.
I was not like this. As far as I remember this all started when I started giving importance to some two-digit numbers printed on a sheet of paper validated by hell of stamps and signatures of various authorities. I was always cool with my studies. I never bothered to work hard. During my class 10th board exams when I scored a little low marks in science after working actually hard for it (for the first time) and faced hell lot of difficulties in getting admission to class 11, I was disheartened. Parents, relatives everyone started drilling into my brain that class 11-12 science is going to be very tough, if I don’t get a good percentage in class 12 I won’t get admission in a good college, I won’t get the subject of my choice to study, I won’t get a proper career, I will land up a mere housewife spending the rest of my life within the boundaries of the house and so on and so forth. Listening to these almost everyday, stressed me up. I started fearing. Whenever I didn’t understand something in class, I would get tensed. People around doing well in studies, stressed me more. Teachers in the new school repeatedly put me down. And i sank down and down. I worked really hard. Still no proper results. I would cry while studying. Panic. Later I would go blank in the exam hall. I leaky flunked in one or two subjects in school exams. Somehow I have my board exams. What happened? I scored worse than I had scored in class 10th. Even in English, on which I had confidence, I got a poor marks. Most of my friends did well. I was one of the few, with pore performance. Once upon a time, my parents, relatives, teachers had confidence I would come out with flying colours. Nothing happened. Lost all hopes.
Now I have no faith in positivity. That’s why even after getting admission in an esteemed college in Bangalore with my subject of choice, I am not fully happy. Even now I am scared. Even now I don’t get the result of my hard work. Lost all drop of confidence.

To top it all, I now feel I am isolated and ignored by everyone. I have no importance in anyone’s life. Nobody cares whether I exist or not. I don’t have actual friends. When I watch some youth based films or TV shows they always a group of best friends, they so understanding, one needn’t say anything, the other understand what he or she is feeling or thinking. Even around me I have seen friends like that. I also wanted friends like that. I believed, until I don’t give, I don’t get. I tried to be a good friend to people I thought to be my friends. But I feel I was never accepted. Whenever I tried sharing with them what I was going through, expecting a helping hand, I got nothing. Either, I would get no response or somebody would say things like “Don’t worry we are there for you” but won’t be there or somebody would give a more blatant answer like “I am not your mom”. It happened once, twice, thrice…. Now I think there’s something wrong with me. It’s my fault that I am all alone. I see my “friends” posting pictures having fun with friends. I can’t. I don’t have pictures like that. I, who loves going out and roaming around, hardly go out. Who will I go out? At home, mother used to always accompany even if I didn’t want get to. Now I have no one. People remember me whenever they think they can use me for something, later, whether I exist or not, no one cares. My parents care because I am there only child. But others have choice, so they just move on. Kicking me out, leaving me rejected.

I don’t even know whether whatever I am thinking is true, or it’s my over stressed up brain talking. Because I am of the notion we all are hypocrites some way or the other. And whenever I trust someone, it crumbles. And I trust people what too easily. Maybe some people just take advantage of that. I was asking myself the question “Why me?” That’s when the speaker or the celebrity who is being interviewed said, “You are not alone, we are all in this together”. Felt a bit better.
But I want to come out of this. I want to live my life, which I can’t with this burden on me.

Posted in Opinion

The NUMBERS rule

Whenever I think of exams a dialogue from the film “3 Idiots” pops up, “Life is a race … if you don’t run fast … you will be like a broken andaa.” Seriously, that’s become a fact. Marks scored in a 3-hour exam is given so much priority for career, all a student can think of are some two-digit numbers. What one is learning, nobody is bothered. All matters are some numbers, irrespective of the fact whether we are able to utilise what we are studying over the years in our desired careers. A person maybe very knowledgeable but could not stand-up well in life from career point of view. Why? Just because he got low marks in his final exams? How can a 3-hour test decide how able a man is with regard to a particular career? There is a proverb, “to err is human”; all humans make mistakes. Some might have been made during the exams. Our body is no less than a machine, it too wears down. A month before exams, we put ourselves through a lot of stress, so it’s natural to break down. That doesn’t mean we are incapable to do some work. People, who can mug-up things, get good marks and a good career and people who can’t, their dreams are shattered. This is so unfair! Is this called a competition? The society is making education a nasty competition instead of making it a healthy one to build up confidence and determination in youth to do something big in life.
Exams have become so marks-centric that students have become scared of it. Instead of a challenge, it has become a nightmare. What’s the result of this? Students are putting themselves more into mugging-up books, instead of understanding and installing in the brain for life what is being taught. Students are deviating themselves more and more away from extra-curricular activities. I have seen people giving up on their passion for dance, music, art or sports for studies. I myself had to give up because my parents thought I couldn’t balance curricular and extra-curricular activities. I always had a wish of taking dance lessons and make dance a hobby, a way to express my emotions. But I was made to quit after just 3 months. All because I couldn’t get a 80 or a 90 in exams? Why do these numbers have to matter? Are we in such a bad situation that some numbers which decide our fate? Our dreams and aspirations? Our goals in life?
These numbers have changed me drastically. People have instilled the importance of marks in life into my brain to such an extent, that now whenever I get low marks it feels I have committed some sin. Not only that, we are look down upon when we get low marks, as if there nothing other than marks in our lives. I used to be a carefree kid till around four years back. Now I have become a dejected one, a lost one. All because of some god-dammed freaking numbers.

Posted in Poem

The story of a poor little bird

There is a little bird

Who loves to do chirpy chirp-chirp

Loves to soar high up in the sky

Sometimes she is nervous, sometimes scared

But still she moves ahead

But she has no friends

With whom she could chirp or play hide-and-seek

No one to crack jokes with

No one to cry out worries or share deepest of secrets

Whenever she tries to make friends

They move away with least attention

She cries and cries

And no one cares to wipe off those tears

She keeps waiting and waiting and waiting

With open hands, ready to be held tight

She looks at other birds

Having great friends and companions

With a little pinch of envy

And lots of regrets and pain

Still she is alone

She is still isolated

It’s not always that one who does good

Gets the good things from life

She realised, the world is all about disappointment, disappointment

AND

DISAPPOINTMENT

Posted in Prompts

Observing a classmate

My friend, I find him a weird character. Too much of a genius, always engrossed in science, but not a nerd. He just hates reading novels. He finds novels “bullshit” (I feel like slaughtering him whenever he says that). He has this habit of clicking random photos while walking. But not of himself or the people who are accompanying him, if any. Of random objects, whatever ‘fascinates’ him. I had no idea of this hobby of his until recently, when we went out for career counselling. The venue was about 2kms from college. And he wanted to walk. I was like “WHAT?? ARE YOU SERIOUS?” because I am very lazy. Hate walking, I am pretty much dependent on technology; my physique can very well tell you that. He wouldn’t budge. I had no other choice but to follow because I didn’t know the directions to the venue. Then I noticed him. He saw a flowering tree with tubular orange coloured flowers, click! Then some red flowers, some yellow, some purple. I didn’t know the names of those flowers; I wonder if he did.

The venue for the counselling was a room at the 11th floor of one of the uncountable commercial complexes of Bangalore. On reaching the 11th floor he took one picture of the view outside. Ok, even I liked the view.  After the counselling we thought of roaming around a little before he went back to hostel and I to my aunt’s place. During this short journey, we entered a railway station (he mostly wanted to). And he started shooting the train, the railway tracks; I on the other hand, didn’t even bother to look at the name of the train. I was trying to figure out what his intentions were and was following him, in the fear I might get lost in an unknown place. One of the weirdest thing – while returning he made even a heap of white stones, scattered at the roadside, his model; how crazy. Talking about crazy, I seem crazy to this friend of mine. So actually who is crazy, I have no idea.

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Posted in Prompts

Curious Case of……. Literature

When birthday comes and it’s time for gifts, I want nothing but books. Birthday has become an excuse to buy new novels, to experience new story with the new year of my life. Only a week left for my birthday, and here I am in a bookstore to buy myself birthday gifts on behalf of Mom and Granny. You know, one of the biggest problems with me is, whenever I enter a bookstore I am so confused about which book to buy, which book to select, which to reject. There are those vampire fictions which I haven’t read yet and, being a vampire fanatic, I am getting impatient to read them. Then there are romance novels of which I received pretty good reviews. Again there are quite many Sidney Sheldon thrillers which I have been planning to read lately. So many choices, but I could take only a few. I wish I owned this bookstore, or any bookstore; this thing always plays around in my psyche. Since I can make limited choice, its better I pick up some random books, browse through them a little bit and if I like them, I take them. Some books give me good vibes that I am going to enjoy reading them. Some seemed weird. One of them was Chetan Bhagat’s “Half Girlfriend”. At least the titles of his previous novels were sensible. Half Girlfriend, seriously? From when did we start having half and full girlfriends? Social activists say youngsters, by trying to ape the west, are defiling the Indian society and culture. This man alone, by writing such nonsense, is defiling it even more. Next I pick up Agatha Christie’s “The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding”, how can a Christmas pudding become adventurous? I open the book and I find this line, “Don’t eat none of the plum pudding. One who wishes you well.” What did the poor plum pudding do? Why so much torture on it? Then I pick up Nora Roberts’ “True Betrayals”. The title sounds contradicting but after reading the back cover, I get the good vibe. So I include it in my shopping cart. After spending about two hours (or maybe two-and-a-half) I finally decide on taking “True Betrayals” and “When Only Love Remains” by one of my favourite authors Durjoy Datta.

Posted in Prompts

My first kitchen experience…

Last month, suddenly Ma’s health deteriorated and was immediately hospitalized. Daddy and I decided till she completely recovered we would employ a chef. That day, Ma was getting discharged and that day itself the chef decided not to turn up. Daddy was at hospital since early morning. It’s only me at home. What would Ma and Daddy have for lunch? I didn’t know how to cook. Had it been breakfast, I could have managed. But lunch? I didn’t want to give them any trouble. I somehow had to prepare something edible and I prayed to God that my dish doesn’t worsen Ma’s health. I opened the fridge and found chicken that Daddy must have bought yesterday evening. I planned to simple chicken curry and rice. I took the chicken out to find it had hardened like stone and I didn’t know the thawing technique. I soaked it in normal water for some time, nothing happened. I called out to neighbour-aunty and asked her what to do. I carefully followed her instructions- first I washed the chicken with tap water and then soaked it in lukewarm water for some time. This revived the initial condition of the meat. Then I mixed the meat with garlic paste, onion paste, turmeric, salt, chilli powder and lightly fried in oil. But still I found the meat hadn’t cooked properly. I didn’t know what to do so I transferred the meat to the pressure cooker. After two-three whistles, I carefully opened the lid to find that my chicken was overcooked; the flesh had separated from the bones.
At lunch I served my parents overcooked chicken and not-so-properly cooked rice. Both quietly giggled looking at the food. They felt a little guilty too for leaving me all alone. Ma promised me that she will not give up until I learn to cook and will make a good cook out of me.