The little things reveal character

I write more as I reflect more, when I pause or call it, forced to pause.

I love sweets and anything sweet! I love baking n the smell of baking. My brother was my constant source of inspiration. He loved anything that his Akka made n he was always ready to assist. Those were the days before social media happened - when we baked chocochip cookies mostly as he loved them..and he would gobble up everything even before the lingering aroma disappeared. The purely innocent days when no one cared to click pics..all that we cared for was licking off the batter from the spatulas n fingers! 

So, I would indulge him with all that I wanted to eat but couldn't! Later, he had to stop eating sweets too n then, I stopped buying anything sweet. It was hard. After a few years, I resumed..for friends, kids and colleagues. I love sharing food and gratified by the "vicarious joy" when others enjoy the sweet stuff. Weird but I love it!

#TheOtherDay

I saw some temptingly beautiful cupcakes one day and ordered for a friend. I ordered considering the family's headcount. He wanted each of them to be of a different type. Seemed reasonable to me. They were luscious n anyone would fall for them! But there were many different ones. So, he ordered all of them! Everyone was happy. 

This incident never bothered me at all until the same person complained that I have something personal against him. Then, I saw through the greed. I was reminded of a similar incident that happened a year ago. I had gifted someone very thoughtful for the wedding n he complained I treated him with disrespect (when I had not even interacted due to the covid menace). It did create a rift between me and the friend to whom he complained. I did make up with the friend but have not grown big enough to forgive the sheep in wolf's clothes. 

The commonality in both: "None of them acknowledged that they liked ( or disliked) the gifts nor that I shared a close personal relationship with them. All that they chose to was be greedy and hypocrites when they chose to say unfair things".

The little things reveal the character. Period.

Yours rightfully, the Bada$$!

#LifeIsLikeThat

Looking at the past is sometimes useful to see how far you have come and how struggles never cease; also, how they never can stop you from moving on.

This one was again from high school. I had delivered a Republic Day speech the previous academic year. It was a memorable one, in my lifetime..the first standing ovation I ever received. The success was a team effort. I wrote the speech but the perfect delivery was ensured by Appaa, Sister Kamala(who trusted Appaa), Sister Mary Lobo, Mrs.Rachael, Mrs.Rebecca who were there to correct and appreciate all through the rehearsals. 

Then came the Independence day speech in August. The criterion for selection was whoever "wrote" the best essay gets to deliver the speech. 

My essay won. But I wasn't called for the rehearsal. Someone else was. I went and asked the teacher who was organising. She said indifferently,  "I have given your essay to my student. Every year, you can't be the one to speak." 

#LifeIsLikeThat

"Miss, You can't give one criterion and then do a volte face just because it is me again. Moreover, you cannot give away my essay to someone else without my permission. You can ask your student to give the speech but not using mine". I had no clue of Intellectual Property then in the 90s. I did not have  the backing of my own class teacher who always called me budhdhu infront of the class that I had already stopped talking to her. She was non-existent to me!🙄 I never let negative people stay around me. 

This post is again about claiming what is rightfully yours and not worry about being bullied. Keep negativity at bay. Never mind if people call you bada$$! 

P.s. Mind you, all this was between females. Females can be the detractors to their own flock. And even if not, others try the "divide n rule" to let the cats do the in-fighting! 😂🤣

The Emotional Connection

How many of you have felt an "emotional connect" with someone? Or at times, even with something? Why I am using the word "something" in this write-up, I shall explain later.

Before i tell you about this emotional connection, let me ask you if you have "felt disconnected" with the people you interact with?

I am sure the answer to this would be a definite YES. Many times and most of the times, it is a disconnected relationship. Just like a morse code ...-..-.-. You conveying information and the other end receiving that information. You need the dots and the dashes to complete the relaying of information...the hmms, the ifs n buts to complete those conversations we loathe. The first opportuntiy we get to end that conversation, we grab it. Dispassionate way of existence! But exist, we must. N we continue with this farcical existence.

Now, let's say you suddenly start feeling something or feeling for someone or something without receiving those dots or dashes. No particles striking you. No physicality involved.

Suddenly, the waves start surrounding you and infuse you with positive energy. You feel it, right? And, you also feel good about it, right?

Even silence enables you to relate to them. The strength of these thought waves is so great that it keeps you bonded. Such is the depth of that relationship. It runs deep, far away from the surface ripples!!

This relationship is most often talked of, as existing between two persons. Can this same effortless relationship exist with "something"? That something could be one's work, hobby or even apparently mundane things like studying.

When would this silent receptiveness set in? If you surrender to God or Nature's own elements and let go, you are right there!!

Be receptive to your surroundings...the book/notes you are staring at, the file you are poring into, the patient whom you want to "dispose", do whatever and simply finish it off.

When you are receptive to the waves emanating from these somethings, a power like gravity would envelop you. You may not see it but it would wield a force that makes you go back to it, again and again! Bcos you have developed a feeling/affection/love for it. The "feeling" happens only when your mind is kept free of clutter, to let this energy come in. The bond is established. No surface ripple can disturb you now bcos you have internalised 'em all.

Now that you are "emotionally connected", you don't seek constant nor external validation. You simply will ruminate, in perfect silence!

Likewise, even when you are not actively eating(replace eating with "studying"), you keep ruminating("revising") on what you have chewed("read") already. You can't ruminate if you pounce to keep biting at every new thing that comes your way. You'll only bloat and belch stale!!

Stay emotionally connected, stay invested in that state and ruminate!!!

My sea poppies! ;)

Let me share with you what was the inspiration behind the painting with a "rustic soul". It has a rather unsophisticated feel to it. That is exactly what was on my mind when I decided to do that. I had just then read a poem by HD - the woman poet, who made a name for herself amidst all odds.

"your stalk has caught root 
among wet pebbles
and drift flung by the sea
and grated shells
and split conch-shells.

Beautiful, wide- spread,
fire upon leaf,
what meadow yields
so fragrant a leaf
as your bright leaf?"

No sugar-daddies; no one to help when she fell down, no one to nurse the bruises, no one to hold her hand and put her on the stage. She did all by herself; by her sheer grit and perseverence. No one she buttered. No one nurtured her. She grew on rough turf; yet, she did it! Bloomed amidst the rugged terrains weathering every bad weather, every storm that battered her existence; every (backstabbing) knife that tried to slash her spirit; walked through every negative word that was wrongly spread; resisting and breaking through every vicious force trying to subdue her.

The fruit of labour against such odds is invaluable. Nothing can beat the beauty exuded by the sweat on the brow. Nothing can equal the joy that comes from such painstakingly achieved rewards.

N you can see how it looks from the outside - idyllic sea poppies in a bucolic setting!! You don't see the pain behind but yes, I can see you already envying the surreal beauty that is unsurpassed!

Life is like that! Be yourself. you don't need meadows to bloom. Bloom and radiate happiness wherever you are. :) 

Learning at 33!!

How I love learning a new language!!!

N especially, when the teacher(one of my students) is so passionate about his mother tongue, and about every other language he knows!!

And, I am just loving this calligraphy....Excited!!! 

Hare Ram Hare Ram!

OK, the disclaimer comes first. No religious offences.

Today is an auspicious day in the Hindu calendar..the Purattasi Sanikkizhamai!

I wake up to my own clock(don't ask me the time! ;) ) ticking the hours towards my beauty sleep, after a late night - answering students' queries.

I hear claps, really loud voices out of sync, and some devotional music. OK..that's my neighbors in action... immersed in religious fervor. The noise plus the nauseating smell of their cheap frankincense pervades into my house... Enough to precipitate the migraine I dread! OK OK..these are times of intolerance, right? Happy the nay-sayers to achche din? ;)

There is something evades my level of understanding. We don't help neighbors in need; we don't smile at them; when we can`t put up with their unobtrusive way of living(by which I mean, no maids, no gossip ;) ; we harangue them with unwanted advice even at the lamest opportunity.... But on certain auspicious days, we seem to transcend to that euphoric state chanting the Divine name, singing His praise wanting to get into His good books..but to what use? When you are intolerant enough to bang the door shut when thy neighbor innocuously walks past to buy a packet of milk!

I was still not in a frame of mind to sing His praise..no, not yet.. had not had my morning coffee..and am always crabby until my first cup of caffeine! ;)

So, I come back, brewed my hot cuppa and sat down to block the external voices(noises), tuned in to the radio..Lo n behold.. ~ Hare Ram Hare Ram from Bhool Bhulaiya!

Whatta life! Karma, huh!!! Hare Ram Hare Ram!!! ;) :P

The Orb of Reflection

I drew this water drop just to practise my strokes and blending techniques.

At the end, when I took a look at it, it stood there as the orb of reflection!

So I had to reflect!!! ;)

Isn't each one of us just a vanishing drop in this theatre called life?

Just as the drop significantly contributes to the mighty ocean, it disappears in the ocean's vastness reducing itself to an insignificant nothing.

I am reminded of an incident where someone laughed "at" me when something went wrong..just a technical fault. He obviously imagined that I made myself a laughing stock in front of everyone!

I repeat the episode once the snag is set right. Why no 😂😂😂 now?

Where did the previous ROFLs disappear after that, Mr.MCP? That is you.. the insignificant nothing!!

If you simply laughed for the sake of mirth, the 😂😂😂 should have remained!!!

Why fight n compare yourself with others? Attitude, of the insecure MCP!!! Why let the green-eyed monster rear its head? 🤔

My only answer to you is: Neighbor's envy, owner's pride!!! Heehaha

"Imagine yourself as a drop." Do your bit because you are bound to disappear!

Nothing is insignificant. I take note of everything. At the same time, you are definitely insignificant, indefinitely!!🙄

What's in a name? Well, all or none!

A recollection of something that happened a  couple of days ago.
An acquaintance tries to change my mind regarding marriage...That my life is not complete; I ain't settled; I don't know what life is; that i need to read some book to understand the need for a companion; that i don't understand the importance of family..... people who know me would be surprised that I was hearing out this rant without calling the spade the spade, at the outset. ;) :P
This gentleman tells me that because i am young, I didn't undertand life. He remembers  my job, is interested to know how much i earn!! His ego is hurt when i tell him that it's my prerogative not to answer that question. Still refuses to acknowledge the fact that i am not impressed by him nor his pseudo-chauvinism. Challenges me that i would call back with the realisation of the need for a partner(in him).
"Sorry doctor, i don't remember your name." As an afterthought, he adds, "I have so many contacts, i don't remember names".
Well, end of story.
I'm not judging anyone ;) :P  you are free to ;)

No closure, yet...

I have a lot of questions..no closure, yet!
What happened to the 8-day pay that you cut from my salary when it was actually 7 and a half? And more so, how do you account for the 8-day pay cut when, on paper, you relieved me on the day mentioned on my I-card? How do you honor labor anf labor laws, especially during those extra eight days you made me attend emergency calls in the casualty when I officially ceased to be a resident( employee). And you still have the sadism to mudsling?!

What of the age, huh?

As I contemplate on my (prematurely) ageing bones squeaking with pain, I reminisce quite a few conversations on age.

Sweet 16 - full of sweet nothings; forever 21 - not really forever; 30 - the ticking timebomb - it never goes off but is "still" (and) ticking!! 40 n midlife crisis - time to leave the vices; senility@50 - You are only as old as you imagine yourself to be! ;)

Age is nothing but a number. A number to rejoice, resurrect and reap life's harvest.

Now coming to the question, " How old are you?" Or guessing how old someone is! A direct question to a lady elicits a frank and straightforward answer. Maybe I have a bias here; for, in my circle of friends are bold, assertive women who form a niche echelon. The same question, when addressed to many a Y-carrying friend or colleague, elicits a pause, left-in-the-lurch bewilderment, a maze of guessing and finally, an approximation! Even among friends, whose DOB (they know)I know! What's wrong in saying you are that 30-ish, no 30+ish..or 40+ish? Well, I love their squirming expressions lest I blurt out that guarded number! Aaahhh, the gentlemen..handle with care.

Guessing someone's age could be outright crazy and fun, as long as the person is not privy to the free-wheeling conversations. From imaginarily pulling someone's imaginary wig to counting the hair left on the crest or looking for carefully tucked greys beneath the dripping dipped-in-blacks, it, sure. is humorous down to the humerus!(meaning, to the bone!)

Now to the other crowd who harp a bit differently but keep harping on the same string - the "right age" - to get married, to settle down (homo sapiens were long settled, aren't they?). "If not at this age, then it's never gonna happen!" Phew!!! Hahaha..sorry buddy, I've long crossed that age! I am carrying a never-detonated bomb..womb...heeheehee.

As an after-thought, a retort to this crowd ought to be, "Is there not a right age to retire and go on "vanavasam"?"

There are a few outliers who have something more to sneer at - contrasts in age, the wrinkles and the hair( rather the lack of it) or in outrageous terms , "budha and takla". It is coming of age, you see and I am sorry for those people who cannot see eye-to-eye, who have not yet come of age(mental, emotional). Physical ageing and its attendant frailties are gonna catch up with you too, dudes.  I am gonna see you go "budha"; takla? maybe not..you need chock-a-block of hair to cover up that empty box below.

So what of the age, huh? I love and adore you for what you are!  As long as we grow gracefully, with age! ;) 

The chaos within

I twist and turn. My eyes look hither and thither. My thoughts meander and slowly drift afar until I pull them together. My breathing is chaotic..fast as if I am searching frantically for something; slow as if to assure that this too shall pass.

What is this? Is this for real or an illusion? Am i missing something? Is something amiss? Is this something that will fizzle out? Is the stress making me go bonkers?

Unsettled questions unsettling me.

Fascinated by resilience

I've been waiting to write this post ever since I saw the brilliant green twigs, brimming with life and vigour, against all odds and neglect.

The fascination begins with the word itself and how I relate myself to it. It describes me best. No bragging this one. Simply - "Knowing oneself".

This plant - Omam (that's how my parents call it) or Karpooravalli (as others call it) is the only one I had in my apartment. It keeps off bugs and pests. It helps my sinus headaches.

So much for my scientific knowledge. Let's come to its resilient story. A year ago, I placed it along with my neighbor's plants so that it would get a few drops of water. And i requested them to. However, it was not to be! Later, I saw that it was dried up and looked sorely neglected. They never watered it. Why? Because it was mine. (The same neighbors flagrantly usurped my more flamboyant asparagus!)

The couple of days I was at home, I dutifully watered it. When I left, I forgot to put it alongside with my neighbors'. It was too late before I realised my act of omission.

When I came back, I was in for a lush, green surprise! It survived well; in fact, beat the game of neglect! Resilience, at its best! Fascinated? It is mine! ;) :P

The week that was!

It's already been a week since I checked in to my apartment! Or maybe, on a different perspective, just a week!! And I've already had so much of sensory onslaught to deal wtih. So much to see, hear, smell, feel...so much that I choose to call it sensory onslaught. Not the most pleasant of things to experience and reminisce.

The first few hours were spent in wheeling out cobwebs in the living room. I did not dare to enter the other rooms until a few days later. The dust had settled into every nook and corner, every exposed space. How I wish te dust of  "my single existence" had settled down too! Well, that's grist for the mill. More of it, later.

The realisation that I was back in dystopia-land was imminent. A friend visited to help me cope with my coming home to an empty nest. I was happy at the prospect of having someone for company.  Better alone than bad company, it turned out. Not for me, one that cannot tolerate the positive energy.  Signal for weeding out bad friendships. 

I am not too kind with people who utter innuendoes or mean comments about my choice of friends or whom I admire n adore. I let my displeasure known n the fragile ego was broken. I cannot give you the love that you are looking for, my friend. You need to look for that love in your caste. That's the truth. When the ego is not pampered, it finds fault in everything - no salt in the food, intolerance to music, the list went on.  I am sorry but it is absolutely my world!! I would never insinuate into that personal space of any friend and I expect reciprocation. 

I could not take in this negativity and was relieved to see the friend leave..and the friendship along with it. Life is so full of life to negotiate with people shoving in their negativity.

I also had some pruning on social network pending for quite a while. Had to place restraint on people who were spamming my space. Especially someone who was offering unsolicited gyaan.  An azquaintance from school invited me to her place in the US. I was flummoxed at the invitation. I was never her friend. In fact, I loathed her, to be honest. She later tells me that she was concerned about me settling down in an alien country. She knew the pain! Well, why couldn't she fly down to my place and buy me a piece of property and I could have settled down very well! Why should I fly ( spend precious dollars) to visit her in another state? Maybe she had some home-consults in-waiting! Just like the way she wanted me to drive 200 miles to check her parents' eyes for cataract at their home in India?!  Just because she thinks she is high on the caste heirarchy! She misplaced my patience in dealing with her and I was sorry for her illusions and more apologetic that she is gonna raise her child perpetuating this toxic jaundice! I refuse to buy this ideology of superiority/inferiority of caste. She had the temerity to tell me that I misunderstood that she discriminated me based on my caste! Well, she stepped on raw nerve now... I said I gave nobody the right to discriminate me. period!  

That was just day 1 and 2 :) More cheer to come! :) :) :)   

La bicicleta n more deja vu, mucho más

Puedo ser feliz

Caminando relajada entre la gente

Yo te quiero así

Y me gustas porque eres diferente

La que yo guardo donde te escribí

Que te sueño y que te quiero tanto

Que hace rato está mi corazón

Latiendo por ti, latiendo por ti

How strange but true..these words of La Bicicleta seem like deja vu! The song captures the essence of my being and state of happiness. I have always been a happy person. Sometimes I've been questioned, "How could you be so happy? It cannot be not normal". Whatever, I continue to be happy..I know to handle my level of happiness...set it free and unleashed!  :) yo me quiero asi 

N I have this small e-note where I write unposted letters... where I write down what I dream, what I love and why I love so much! mi corazón latiendo por ti, latiendo por ti  Yo me quiero asi, yo te quiero asi.

My romantic idea of my tryst with the bicycle goes further..I had signed up for a bicycle trip in the Oriental even before I ventured on this trip..the song comes to remind me that it's time for my upcoming bicycle trip in a laidback country where time moves with the sun and not with the watch! The lens' tryst with the bicycle at New York..N then the boss introduces us to La Bicicleta...life is strange, like Paulo Coelho's Alchemist. N I am hooked to it, on a never-ending loop ;)

A mí manera, descomplicado

En una bici que me lleva a todos lados

Life could get complicated but can always be uncomplicated when we choose to be honest and happy! :) 

The Sense(lessness) of Belonging(s)

Sense of belonging - it is the nth sense. Something akin to umami. It lends the unfathomable flavor to life.  However heartfelt the feeling may be, it is still intangible. It doesn't come from where you are born. It doesn't come from where you live. It comes from where you feel your worth. It is where you feel  liberated to seek your true worth. That is where you belong; the sense of belonging belongs  there. And that is, anywhere and, everywhere!

Belongings  - senseless! Like the dowry people fight over. The manic maniacs who are obsessed with the greed to possess the riches! The possessed! Whose belongings are those anyway? Theirs? Nope!  It is, in fact, much ado about "nothing". In the struggle to usurp anon's belongings, it is easy to crush another's sense of belonging.  The longing to belong starts thence. The self takes a drubbing. Therein lies the rub...rubbing salt into the wound. This hitherto unknown sense becomes conspicuous by its absence!

Remember, you never belonged there, in the first place! So long to belong but never for the belongings! ;)

¡No sé por qué!

No sé por qué... ¿Qué?

No sé por qué siento lo que hago.

No sé por qué no me siento nada, a veces. Y me siento todo, a veces. ¿Por qué siento todo? No sé por qué me siento lo que la otra persona se siente!

¿Porque veo todo? ¿Estoy viendo mucho demasiado? ¡No, no otra vez!

Quiero dejar de ver. Quiero dejar de verlos que me da dolor. Quiero dejar de pensar. 

No sé. Simplemente no quiero saber. 

Quiero paz..paz conmigo mismo. Quiero que todo el mundo contento. 

Voy a ir a pintar ahora. Todo lo que sé es esto. ¡Así es soy!

Not every friend remains a friend

No, not even the best of the lot! I was shocked the first time this truth hit me. And it came in when I was going through the worst upheaval of my life. It was sickening to know what a sadist she turned out to be. 

She coated her chirpy conversations with fine glaze. It was just the icing on the cake. Ignorant of the intentions that lurked beneath the cloak of this supposedly understanding friend, I shared my numerous joys and miniscule doses of unhappiness with her.

She chose to let me soak in my happiness alone but she kept track of me. She pitched in with her efforts to glean every detail of my unhappiness. She shared her happy milestones with me. Yes, milestones they were because otherwise, she didn't surface. It was her self-effacing way to show off. I was genuinely happy for her, as I did even for the faintest acquaintance.

It wasn't that simple. The glaze chipped away once, and I saw through it all.  She repayed a gift with one of similar worth. She didn't have to. So, she was keeping track. Friends don't do that. It wore me down by its weight. Too heavy an emotion to describe! There is so much to read between the lines, which I guess only she would understand. I know she would be  reading this. (I hope you get it, mi amiga! )

She has this uncanny knack of hitting at the most tender spot. Unfortunately for her, that's where my gut feeling arises. N i could see her smirking at what she believed was giving me searing pain. She reads this bit of my (s)crap-space in the virtual world and concocts her own impressions of what is on my mind. So I decided to take the bait and play my own game.  She gets her refills of sadistic amusement and I, mine, whenever she texts me out of the blue.

 It hurt to see that she was waiting all the years to see me lose. Lose, I did, a friend! 

.

The Art Sabbatical at Ann Arbor

Random thoughts on my Art sabbatical @ Ann Arbor ;)

I love weekends and the way I choose to spend it - quiet, unto myself.  Weekends remained pristine  until I finished high school - the Saturdays and Sundays in my possession, Once into medical school, things changed..my idea of weekend took the first beating. Saturdays were meant to work. And so it continued, with no respite.

There came a time when I chose to work even on Sundays. Solitude is a choice but loneliness is not.  Life is an (oxy)moronic irony, isn't it? Unable to bear the pregnant silence of loneliness with the truant mind endlessly bickering unto itself, it was my choice and I had no complaints.

One needs to lose something to appreciate its worth. I have reason to rejoice. I have time to indulge myself. I have the luxury of having my weekends all to myself, again! My work no longer expands to fill the available weekend. I fill my weekends with creativity, weilding the pencil.

There is something magical about holding the pencil - el lapiz! Peace runs in my veins as I hold el lapiz. (Pun unintendedly intended)

What started on the eve of Holi of 2009 as a desperate act to counter my loneliness and to kill time as I sat in my lab, has evolved over the years and grown into a passion. It all started with my sketching isolated eyes, noses, and lips. Then came pairs of eyes. I stopped with sketching the eyes. I was happy and contented. I looked at eyes; so, I sketched eyes. That's what I told people. Honestly, I was just too lazy and unsure of my true potential!

I once tried sketching my friend Ad. It turned out like that of Bhagat Singh - disastrous "A 2 B"  i called it! Didn't have the courage to show him nor the doggedness to attempt again. I was too tired to attempt; was myopic to see beyond and risk a walk in the beauty of the woods. Those were the times when i remained tied to a tree, the family tree.

As I learnt to fall back on this innate passion to soothen my frayed nerves, I took up the pencil a little more often. I had to prove myself to no one. I didn't have to be perfect. I had myself to call my own. I felt more confident about making mistakes, to fumble, to try again. Voila! I could sketch a full face with so much of life!

 Life is full of surprises and I am thankful..one step at a time!

 Now, with the certainty of my weekends, life has become perfect with its own imperfections. Life is always perfect in the artist's imagination, especially with the realisation that I am getting better at it, with regular practice - "The Art Sabbatical at Ann Arbor".

How effacing is self-effacing?

How effacing is self-effacing? Let's face the truth.

Nobody likes to be in the company of someone who constantly blows his or her trumpet. I would not, honestly. Would I like the company of a self-effacing person? Again, nope.

I like to be amidst humble people but definitely not with the consciously modest kind. There is a discerning line betwen being modest and self-efffacing. Or maybe, even a glaring line. Being a trait of the pretentious, it is particularly tiring to keep the person's ego soothed and buttered. One has to blow the trumpet for the other person. Not that I am faced with such a predicament that i chose to pen my thoughts. This thought surfaced on my mind, and took over like a water hyacinth, ever since i talked about it with a friend yesterday.

I use this portal as a scrapbook to jot down my distracting thoughts. And life goes on...Thoughts may come and thoughts may go, but life goes on forever, like the little brook.

Now that the overwhelmingly distracting thought is well on its way to getting itself effaced, it is worth the effort to dwell on "self-effacement", isn't it? ;)

Never a pittance for the puissance!

Random musings of the fortnight gone by. 

There was this entrepreneurial gentleman who spoke to me about his impressions of his humble self and his life. I listened politely. He thought he was a good match for me!!?? He impressed upon me how I need to respect my mother tongue. I was still patient trying to OHT (overhead-transmit) his horrible diction; not letting my auditory areas process any of the zoosemiotics(or homosapiens-semiotics). I paused the conversation to talk to my landlady. And then he tells me, "You WAS bayangarama peter-ing". Even my polite hmmm-ing petered out! A pittance for the puissance? Nay, never! Si, soy así.