How to take care of Kids the Sangeeta Way OR ...Why the sh*t is there a BABY on my couch?!

*NOTE*: To all those parents who love their children, do NOT follow the regimen provided.

Illumination engulfs me as I begin to open my eyes to the agonizing world of misery and self-deception. A constant sound gurgles disconcertingly in my mind as I stir in bed. I gather all my strength to shuffle around for the blasted alarm. God, the sound is unnerving! When I find it –which is after an eternity of groping and profanities (courtesy of me)–I pick it up gently and throw it on the floor. Mom’s going to kill me for breaking this one… I close my eyes and drift away to a more alluring world of pink skies and chocolate bunnies. When I finally am positive that I’ll not a get a wink of sleep now, I haul myself off my bed, unsteady and bleary-eyed, and walk slowly toward the bathroom.
“Toothbrush… my… toothbrush… Where the… is my toothbrush?!” I scratch my chin, half-crazed with sleep and anger. Cabinet after cabinet, I use my coarse vocabulary to its zenith, looking hastily for the device of human creation that kept me from having the certain cavities my mother would put her will on to happen. While on my hurried quest for the pink, chewed-up toothbrush, my eyes landed on the mirror. I looked like a trailer-trash mom with eyes dripping off Kohl. I shuddered at the sight of me. Reminds me of that “TALKING TURLEEN” doll with the rollers, cigarette and a c-section scar.
Seriously, a c-section scar?
Yes, I was kinky enough to actually undress dolls and check out what they looked like. Even if they were NOT mine...
Washing off the kohl from the rims of my eyes, I continue my quest for the abducted toothbrush. A series of swear words slip casually off my tongue, and my hands moved diligently on the islet of spits-villas and faucet-waterfalls. I turned over each box of tissues, medicines, and miscellaneous, but the occasional swearing continued to flow. Sighing a bit, I finally took a finger, added a dollop of toothpaste (Mint! Yummy!) and cleaned my teeth. I then resorted to flossing my teeth and fetching my towel for a quick shower.
After dressing up, I walk into the Drawing Room, pick up the Daily, and resort to dropping down on the couch and reading it, like I always do.

"Be careful. There's a baby on the couch..." My mother says.

Ahh... my sweet, innocent, delusional mother. I make The Face at her, the one i usually make at people just before i prove them wrong. I shuffle around on the couch.

"OYE!" I yelp and jump off the couch, almost running away from the puddle of animal matter.

I can't believe it. She was right. There IS a baby on the couch.

"B-but... But...."

How can she be right?! I made The Face! This is wrong!! This is so goddamn wrong!!
I want a lawyer.
~:~
"It's moving." I say to my mum.
"It's a girl, sweetheart," she says, her almond eyes glittering with motherly joy and affection.
Now, usually, when most girls see such an expression -the one my mum had on her face -they widen their eyes in disbelief and begin to shower all possible attention on the foreign baby, treating them as their own.
Instead of doing what most girls would do, I simply cock my left eyebrow at my mum and, giving her the most disturbingly grim expression, i resort to conquering the knowledge the Daily has to provide to me.
Now, i have nothing against babies -nothing at all! It's just... i haven't the slightest clue of what to do with them.
Babies are like boys; first, you don't know how to kiss them, and, when you figure THAT out, you don't know what the hell to do with your hands.
The baby stirs -on MY couch, sleeping on MY pillow, drooling over MY blanket -and yawns lazily.
Life is so unfair, its not even funny.
Soon, she wakes up and, goggle-eyed, she stares up at me.
I'm not very good with Kids, boys notwithstanding. Let me give you a step-by-step guide to taking care of kids my way.

HOW  TO TAKE CARE OF KIDS THE SANGEETA WAY

STEP 1: THE BABY WAKES UP

• Baby opens eyes: Ahh... another day... OF TORTURING, CRYING AND NAPPY-CHANGING!! ~~A little bit bit of pee on the sofa, topped with fresh baby drool. Just how i like it.
• Baby stares at Sangeeta, and Sangeeta stares at baby: A Divine discovery.

STEP 2: EX POST FACTO OF WHEN THE BABY WAKES UP

• Baby's state of mind and Body

Body: Smiles at Sangeeta
Mind: Not Applicable

• Sangeetas state of body and mind

Body: Stares at baby like a freaking lunatic
Mind: "...uh?!"

STEP 3: EX POST FACTO OF ALL THE WEIRD GOGGLE-EYED SMILING

• Baby

Body: Pulls toes with hands and laughes (I don't blame him...)
Mind: N/A

• Sangeeta

Body: Perspiration, nervousness, temporary aphasia, horror, more perspiration and acute nausea.
Mind: "Why is it so #$!&ing HOT in here?! Where are we, in ASIA?!
...Oh wait...
#$!&...

STEP 4: BABY CRIES

• Baby

Body: *Horrifying shrieking similar to that of when a colossally large woman with six-inch heels steps on ones foot. Seriously, either ban overstuffed people, high-heeled shoes, or the combo of the two. It's murder, i tell you!*
Mind: Food! Food! Food! Goo-goo-gaa-gaa! OR N/A

• Sangeeta

Body: Perspiration, nervousness, temporary aphasia, horror, more perspiration,acute nausea, and surreal calm.
Mind: AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! IT'S LIKE THE WRATH OF SATAN!!  IT'S... IT'S LIKE VALENTINE'S DAY ALL OVER AGAIN!!

Why did i have to think of that?! C'mon, there's a BABY in the room....

So, you see, i could never be worse with a child. Believe me, if you were to ever leave a new-born within fifty yards of me, he's sure to develope atleast one type of psychological disorder. SO, if you hate you're kid, send him to India! He'll be taken care of well.... Really well...(Cue satanic laughter followed by a strange hacking noise and awkward spluttering.)

And, of course, there is a baby on my couch "Because my mother said so".
Mom, I'm not fourteen anymore.
That was ages ago.
Seriously, parents have to come up with better lines...

The Call: An Odd Spool of Humiliation and Quintessential Revelation

It was very difficult to connect with our folk and peers in the late eighteenth century, when one had to travel miles just give a hello. People of that era were extremely poor, the courtesy of their Colonial rulers, and, hence, found it even harder to commute from a place to another. As cited on wikipedia, "Proto-industrialization is a phase in the development of modern industrial economies that preceded, and created conditions for, the establishment of fully industrial societies". Initially using surplus labor available during slow periods of the agricultural seasons, proto-industrialization led to specialization in both industrial production as well as commercial agricultural production. As the protoindustrialization came close, families saw the independence of women, allowing them to work outside of the house. Many simple machines where made during protoindustrialization.
Industrialization, like it's primitive form, has its roots from eighteenth century London, where a massive increase in agricultural productivity known as the British Agricultural Revolution enabled an unprecedented population growth that freed a significant percentage of the workforce from farming, and helped to drive the Industrial Revolution.
China and India, while roughly following this development pattern, made adaptations in line with their own histories and cultures, their major size and importance in the world, and the geo-political ambitions of their governments.
Currently, China's government is actively investing in expanding its own infrastructures and securing the required energy and raw materials supply channels, is supporting its exports by financing the United States balance payment deficit through the purchase of US treasury bonds.
Meanwhile, India's government is investing in specific vanguard economic sectors such as bioengineering, nuclear technology, pharmaceutics, informatics, and technologically-oriented higher education, openly overpassing its needs, with the goal of creating several specialisation poles able to conquer foreign markets.

And Sangeeta? Well, she invested in stealing XKDC's Mathematics Manual from the esteemed math teacher. Said teacher was handing out lab manuals of all students to me and Aaa-khi*, when i casually slipped in the fact that i lived close by him. Instead of merely letting me get a glimpse of his Domain of Errors, the manual was dumped atrociously in my hands by her, a smile and a "Get Out" included.
Well, Shit.
So, i ride home toward tension and anxiety. For a start, i'm not really SUPPOSED to have it. In fact, i don't even KNOW where XKDC lives. I only know of his vicinity, but that's it. Au contraire to popular notion, i've never met with his mother. I've only seen his papi, and i've never even had to priviledge to talk with him. Ok, i COULD'VE. But i chose not to.

I value my life.

A typical phone call by an ordinary person to an ordinary person, traditionally, is placed by picking the phone handset up off the base and holding the handset so that the hearing end is next to the user's ear and the speaking end is within range of the mouth. The caller would then press buttons for the phone number needed to complete the call.
A typical phone call by me to XKDC, weirdly, includes rapid pacing, sweating, nausea, temporary aphasia, more nausea, helplessness and, then, passion-struck pathos. In this phase, i finally pick up the and dial the ten digits i had grown accustomed to remembering. Nervously, i place to phone near my ear.

"DING DING DING! The Number you have called, is currently Busy, Please try again Later."
#@!& you.

I dial again.

"DING DING DING!" #@!&*grumble**grumble*#@!&*grumble*
"DING DING DING!!" (grrrr) #@!&*grumble**grumble*#@!&*grumble*
"DING DING-" #@!&*grumble**grumble*#@!&*grumble*
"DING DING-" #@!&*grumble**grumble*#@!&*grumble*
"DING-"*grumble*
"DING-"*grumble*
"DING DING DING!"*grumble*
"DING-" Oh, my GOD. PICK UP THE GOD DAMNED PHONE!!!!!

Exasperated, i sit on the ground, wailing.
And that was yesterday, i.e. on thursday.

Today, i made a speech. Yes. I figured that i'd get nervous if i tried to talk with him without memorizing anything. So i wrote down what i'd say.
For a start,
"May i speak with XKDC?"
Yes, i was so nervous, i doubted my abilities to say even the simplest of sentences. So, i began practicing.
"May i speak with XKDC, please? No? Well, fuck YOU!"
Ok, i wouldn't have said THAT, i'd just say "Screw you", instead.
"Right. I'll remember that."
But, as luck would have it, i found his number to be busy almost all day. Everytime i pressed, "REDIAL", i'd hear the definitive "DING DING DING!", meaning that the bastard was talking to someone. But, FOR THIRTEEN HOURS?! What, is he having sex with his LANDLINE?! And i'm all ready with the speech, too!

I'll try after a few hours...
~:~
It's 9:49pm. And i'm giving one last try to this phoning business.

"If he doesn't pick up now, i'm never calling him again. Isn't that what he wants??"

Suddenly, as though by magic, i hear the ringing tone. My eyes fly open.
SHIT SHIT SHIT! WHERE IS THAT FREAKING SPEECH?! I NEED THAT~~~

"~~~Hello?" A velvet voice breaks the pattern of my thoughts. With a rush of energy, i sit up straight, staring awkwardly into space.
"H-hello? Is XKDC there?"
"Speaking."

Shit. Shit shit shit. Mega-shit. Double-mega-shitty-shit-shit. Someone up there must be having a really hard time keeping a straight face whilst watching me squirm.
I frantically turn the pages of my notebook, looking for my speech . For some weird, contradictory reason, i am unable to find the speech.

"Um... Hi, It's me... Sangeeta."
"Hi...." he says something else.

I began to get worked up all over again. WHERE THE SHIT IS IT?!I ask him if he'd be coming to school or not; we have an exam this monday. Then. I tell him of how i just called to tell him that i have his manual with me.

"How did you land on it?"
"Well, ma'am distributed them all, so, i brought yours... By the way, have i ever told you that your choice sucks?"
"Yeah, i know that..."
"Well, i was wrong. It doesn't just suck -it sucks MAJORLY!"
"Chood na..."
"No, seriously, Fluorescent Orange and Fluorescent Pink?! What were you thinking?!"

It sounded like he was snorting in good humor. But, really, this conversation wasn't going so well. For a start, he sounded distracted. And also sounded as though he was smiling. Believe me, i can hear emotions. Then, on top of that, there was the sound of rustling paper from my side of the line. To all those who don't know that that's not supposed to happen: that's not supposed to happen.

"Why do you sound drunk?!" I can't resist asking. Suddenly, i regret saying that.
"I'm having my dinner right now."
"OOOoooohhh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you..."
"I-I can't talk to you right now, i'm having my dinner right now." He says curtly.

YESSS!! THIS IS FINALLY ENDING!

"Kthnxbye."
"Goodnight."
I smile. "Goodnight. 'Bye."
I cut the phone. I then look down. There's my speech, in the galore of my handwriting.

Oh.
...
Wait a minute!
When i HAD the speech in my hands, the number was busy. When i was completely off guard, he picked up the wretched phone.
This just shows: God is against me...

The Farewell- A Contorted mix of Energy and Lesbianism OR The Littlest Things Matter the Most

Click click click click.

I brush past an array of students buzzing outside the school hall, waiting to enter the start of our first -and, possibly, last -ever farewell. My six-inch heels click weirdly against the gravel and i crunch past senior boys who seemed to have an affininty of incessantly staring at my butt for no reason. But, i didn't care, then. All i cared about was----

"----I'M HAVIN' A FAREWELL! I'M HAVIN' A FAREWELL!!"

I click away toward the Gemini's* house. She'd called me earlier, telling me to come home. She, apparently, wanted to show me the varied dresses that were worn by her, Sugu-Pugu* and Ice-Kitten*. With the last whiff of nervous energy that my body had attained -fearing that i would be the only one is corporate wear -i heave myself toward the door. I had the perfect outfit out for this, too. My corporate satin shirt with lace trimmings from Westside, jeans from BHS [what's strange to note about them is that though they really ARE from BHS, they have the word "Sexy" written on their back-pocket. Well, that sure explains the weird staring...] and my bag from the Camel market [Camel market stuff is actually GOOD stuff. They're all at half off. Isn't that good?], and the most amazing heels from Catwalk that i only bought 'cuz of my shoe-fetish.
Oh, yeah! Did i mention that i have shoe-fetish?
No? No?!
Well, i have shoe-fetish.
I ring the door-bell.

"Hi! ~~I look HIDEOUS!" Gemini says as she opens the door.
"~~this school has taught us..." Sugu-Pugu trails off behind her.
"Do i look like i'mma girl going to a strip-club?!" Ice-kitten whines.

And the world spins on its axis~~~~
WAIT A MINUTE!

"Strip-club?!" I scream.
"Yeah, look at me!" she whines.

That's the most special thing about Ice-kitten*; no matter how much she whines and nags, she always manages to look cute. Just like a real kitten. I stare at her, from head to torso. Because, for some reason, i cannot look beyond her chest-region.
Oh, no no. The Lesbianism doesn't come in here.

"That necklace is so PRETTY!!" i scream.
"Lemme see what you're wearing!" The girls say in unison.
"Oh, I..." I put my leg up in the air, bent at the knee. "... am in love with THESE." I point at the six-inch torture adorning my feet.

Almost instantly does the room get filled with a hoard of shieking, maniacal female laughter that sounds close to the frantic squawking that i had to hear on the 14th of this month[as you may recall].
I still have the nightmares...

"So, whats this," I say, "About you looking like you are going to a strip-club?" I look at her again. She seems to look normal. She has a nice black top with white sequins on it, and a black skirt to go with. And....
"...Are those..." I look down. "Ankle-length boots?"
"Yeah, nice, huh?"
"Nice? I think i'm in love...." I look up at her.
"....right." She turns around and walks toward sugu-pugu.
"Do i look ok?" she asks. "Is the skirt too short?"
"What, are you kidding me?!" I say. "Zenith's* skirt is way~~~~y shorter! It's like, even if she DIDN'T wear a skirt, it wouldn't make much of a difference!"
"Are you sure?"
"Uh-huh... Say..." I begin. "Can i see those?" I point at her feet.
"Sure! Go ahead!"

At this precise minute, she turns around and bends forward. Suddenly, from being face-to-face we're... butt-to-face... I stare at her behind. That's a nice behind. Not too plump like most indian girls, and not flat. Could give even MY butt a run for my money... Not bad at ALL... reminds me of that song from Sir Mix-A-Lot. Yeah, sure, it's extremely racist; but we hate whites, too! How did it go, again?
Oh, yeah!

"I like big butts and i cannot lie.
You 'otha' 'brothas' can't deny,
when a girl comes in wi' an itty-bitty waist an'
a round 'thang' in yo' face, ya get sprung!
Wanna pull out on yo'r tough,
'cuz ya noticed that the butt was stuffed...."

Ice-kitten turns around and looks at me.

"What?" she asks. I stare up at her, my head still cocked to the right, the mouth slightly open.
"...Yeah..." I look at her, turn around, and walk away.

Today, I like big butts. Tomorrow, I'm getting married.
What has this world come to?!
~:~

"We will light the lamp of Knowledge, and everyone will be give a candle of knowledge. The first will be lit by our very own Principal." one of the teachers says into the microphone.
"Kiss-up!" I say, only to hear a murmur of giggles erupt behind me.

The teachers huddle up in groups and walk toward the students with lit candles. The unlit ones are handed to us.
"Here," my class teacher hands a candle to me. I stare at it. This is the candle of knowledge...? This golden, swirly, waxy thing with what looks like bird-poop on it is the candle of knowledge?!

"If thats the case, then knowledge is everywhere!!" I wail.
"You're right!" My teacher says. "All of us have knowledge. We must only share it with others. Thats what counts."

Knowledge is actually a bird-poop covered candle. No wonder school stinks!
My class teacher bends toward me, trying to light up my candle for me. it doesn't light up. She tries once more. No show.
And once more.
And again.
And again. But the candle doesn't light up.
I move my candle toward that of my friend in front of me.
"Figures..."


"...and now you may all blow out your candles." the principal says. I blow mine, and so does the entire hall. Now, the hall is filled with double its volume of smoke. People all around me are coughing, and blowing at their candles in vain. Some are sneezing, and some others have covered their mouths with their respective hands. I shuffle around to see whats up with the others. Suddenly, i spot XKDC* laughing with Chilly Flakes* in a far corner.
Invariably, my jaw tightens and my grip around the candle strengthens.

"...Sangeeta?" Someone says.
"What?!" i snap at them. she beckons me to look down.

Oh, my God.

"I broke it."

Thats right. I broke the candle of Knowledge. I broke the fucking candle. Since everyone's staring, this must be bad. I turn to sugu-pugu and show it to her. She giggles.
Sangeeta broke the candle of knowledge. Why does this not surprize her? Then, i think of something else.
This was a very symbolic event. My hearts envy led to the tightening of my grip on the candle, sic it broke. It is said that when there is anger and hatred on the mind, the power to think logically diminishes. This was just what happened -i was so angry that i didn't realize the breaking of the candle in my hand. This was like Gods own sign.
It's always the littlest of things that matter the most...
~:~

"Where do we get the energy to do things from?" Sugu-pugu asks, twirling the hem of her dupatta in her hands.
"Well, I get the energy to message from my mum, who pays for my phone-bills." i say.
"No, no. Where do you get the energy to do work?" she says, a little irritably.
"Food?"
"From food, we trace it to crops, which are green..." Gemini says
"And so- " Sugu-pugu begins
"-we get the energy from the sun." Gemini completes the sentence.
"Exactly. Now, where does the sun get energy from?"
"Heat." Gemini says.
"How is heat formed?"
"By the presence of Helium on the surface of the sun?" I say.
"It's hydrogen, actually..." Gemini trails off.
"Yeah. the reaction between Deuterium and Tritium(Hydrogen Isotopes). In ordinary cricumstances, the radioactive tritium actually decays into helium-3. But, on the sun, they bombard into each other and form helium-4, the cause of heat on the surface of the sun. In the reaction, a nucleus (mostly of the Triton) is discarded and 17.6 MeV(mega electron volts) of energy is released as an appropriate amount of mass converting to the kinetic energy of the products, in agreement with E = Δmc2."

Of course, this cannot be proven true in many other cases, such as that of anti-matter (specially anti-protons/anti-hydrogen).
And, of course, that isn't what i said. I said

"The reaction between two protons, or, two hydrogen ions, creates a vast amount of energy from mass. This energy is from the fusion reaction used to make helium on the surface. Hence, the heat."

What? These are teenaged girls! The last thing they wanna do is listen to an entire chapter out of The Physics of Inertial Fusion" from the mouth of a girl who sounds like a drunken boar falling into a pit full of shit!"

"In other words, we get energy from protons -" Sugu-Pugu begins.
"-which are everywhere. Exactly." Gemini chimes in.
"It's like with carbon," I say. "Our body is composed of carbon in varied different forms, and, yet, if we try to eat burn toast -carbon in its purest form -we fall ill."

"So, our entire existence relies on protons. Just radioactive matter! The littlest thing in the entire universe... and it matters the most!"

To think that such an award-winning ass was formed the courtesy of decaying radioactive matter.
That is so pathetic!


And so am i.
Excuse me while i crawl into a hole and die.


*Names changed. Duh...