K - It's so not okay!

I still remember the first time I came across this dreadful reply. It was one pleasant day a few years earlier when I was chatting with an online friend. Innocent and a gullible newbie to the ways of cyber chatting, I was anxious to understand it all.

The conversation was taking a boring turn and I had said something (I don't remember what) to which I got a reply in the form of a lonesome letter. The letter 'k'.

Puzzled by what it could have meant, I stressed over the various meanings and full forms it could hold. My initial thought being that it could be okay, but that seemed too far fetched to be true and so I proceeded to asking my friend what 'k' meant. His prompt reply was, “It's 'okay'.”

Okay -> O.K ->  K

Here we see the linear process of okay. A word written in three different manners, the irritability levels increases from left to right.

Now users of the K would be puzzled as to the strong opinions of the haters of the K. Why do we hate it? It's just a letter isn't it? A quick response which only makes typing easier. What's so irritating about it?

There are various types of ways K can be said and expressed. These include;

The K with a emoticon:

K :) or K :P

This is sweet and light hearted and shows that the person has taken the effort to care about you. Putting the small emoticon next to the K shows the way the K is meant to be said and in what emotion. It makes the receiver of the K feel good.

The expressive K:

K! or K?!

This K is tolerant too. With an exclamation it shows that the replier acknowledges something, with a question mark, it asks the receiver if it's okay. With both an exclamation and a question mark, it tries to make the receiver understand that the sender is confused or that he's asking if it's okay or not okay.

The dotted K:

K.....

This is when the irritability levels really start to rise. If the K by it's own wasn't enough, you have the dots that make the receiver feel like the sender is bored or disinterested and isn't really bothered about them anymore.

The small K:

k... or k :D or k!

The small K works in a variety of ways, depending on how it ends and how it is used. If it is used in between a message it doesn't matter much. But if the message starts with a small k then it shows how the sender was too lazy to even turn it into a capital.

The single K:

K

This is the most notorious of all the Ks. The single K!
It's the most annoying thing an individual can do!
When you receive a single K. Most people just stare at it... Waiting.. Waiting for something more. Something to fill all that emptiness.
But no, it's just a K, a single letter staring back at you as you wait.
The insensitivity of the K has nothing to compare to. A single K makes you feel unworthy, unworthy of getting anything more. Like the only time a person has for you is to send a K, just to satisfy you and say that they DID send SOMETHING.

“You are not worthy of my time or effort,” that's what a single K denotes.

My best friend and I absolutely despise K with all our hearts. For us, K is only sent to piss off people, to indirectly tell them that we are pissed with their crap and they aren't worthy of our attention anymore. It works extremely well with people who know our hatred for K well but with others it isn't much of an abnormality. But I have to say, it gives me a great deal of satisfaction to send someone who I am particularity angry, irritated or annoyed with, a K. It has become a means of ending a discussion and has worked many a time as a perfect example of Reverse Psychology. I found that when I send someone a K, 4 outta 5 times they would reply with an apology.

And so K has its benefits too!

But there are other things that are as annoying as K. These include:

1. Dots

    The extra extra dots thats follow a fullstop in a sentence.
    Eg: Hi ya.....how r u doing....?

2. The short-forming of short words

    Like the title says, making short words shorter.
    Eg: K for okay and recently, O for or / of, sill for silly 

3. Completely changing the spelling of a word
   
    Some words are changed to appear cooler, but they could not be more uncool!
    Eg: ma for my (ma birthday iz cominz soon), kewl for cool
  
4. The fondness for Z

     Using way too many Zs in a word.
      Eg: I lizzzzzz it.... , Itzzz o kewl!


(Like seriously? Have you ever walked on the street and heard a person talk like they're a snooze alarm?)

5. The multiplicity of a letter (s)
    When only one letter is needed but you put a lot more for good measure.
     Eg: Hiiiiiiii.... Wazzzzup? Or Omgggggggggg! Thatsss soooo coooolllll......


The above few are some examples of the type of messaging we find today. There are other things that are more annoying but that's for another blog, another day.

So know people of the world! If you type like anything mentioned as 'irritating' in this blog, know that not only I but others with me are cursing you as you type and saying with absolutism- K IS SO NOT OKAY!

SON OF A B*TCH- Why some dogs deserve that title.

A couple of weeks back I was 'dog-siting' for an ex-teacher of mine. Her father had died that day and since she could not pass on her dog to anyone else, she turned to my mother for help. My mother being the martyr that she was, readily accepted and helped my teacher get through her painful ordeal.

She went to Ms.G's place, helped calm her nerves, took an auto with dog and woman and brought them back to my house all before I had even had breakfast! And so there I was, in my jammies, still hazy from sleep and I found my mother at the door, with my ex-teacher, her niece and a hormonal dog.


It took me awhile to register the scene before me. And as I stared at Zorro (yup that really was his name), his bloodshot eyes stared back at me. (I should mention here that he's a Golden Retriever and they aren't all as fun as you might think)

Ms.G gave me quick instructions to handle her dog.

“We usually feed him twice a day.”

“He likes bread and milk.”

“He loves fish.”

“Zorro is very naughty.”

“He jumps a lot.”

“We usually take him for a walk in the evening.”


After a million more pieces of advice, before she left she turned to me and said matter-of-factly, “If he's troubling you too much, just drug him.”

Horrified at the very thought of it, I let out a nervous laugh until I understood that she was serious.

A little uneasy, I waved a quick goodbye, promising to look after Zorro as a token of my condolences. After Ms. G and her niece left (taking my mother with them) I was left with a very confused dog on my roof. Stressed as I was with the sudden turn of events I decided it would be best to feed the dog first.

Besides his barking was starting to drive me nuts.

Don't get me wrong, I have had a dog before but he died four years back and the closest contact I've come with a dog since then would be avoiding the ones on the streets.

So there I was, with a plate of bread in one hand and a bowl of water in the other. I go on to the roof and stand behind the dog who was looking the other way. I swear my life on this, that dog had to be deaf! It didn't hear me open the gate, nor call his name, nor did he hear me walking towards him or even when I was practically on top of him. (So much for being a guard dog)

Finally I think he might have noticed my shadow or felt a presence behind him and he turned back to look at me. Now like I mentioned before, Zorro had these bloodshot eyes that really creeped me out, and even though externally he looked like a cute Golden Retriever, his eyes spoke otherwise. Like they say, eyes are the mirrors to the soul and his looked like they reflected the pits of hell. That should have been my first indication of the hell I was about to go through later that day.

Back to feeding him- I placed the bowl of water in front of him, encouraging him to take a sip. He looked at me, looked at me hard, like he expected me to add some whiskey to it. Or better still some red wine (to match his eyes). I then placed a couple of slices of bread at his paws, hoping, no no praying that he would at least give that a go. He didn't even sniff at it! Just turned around and sat with his back to me and... This is the most painful thing to say... I was ignored by a dog!!

That's when I remembered his master telling me that he loved beef and fish. SO HE'S TOO GOOD FOR BREAD!!

Pissed off that I wasted so much white bread on a useless dog I went back inside, but not before stopping at the door and yelling at him, “YOU'RE DEAF!” and when he didn't turn to the sound of my voice, I went inside satisfied, with a smug look on my face.

But not for long, Zorro started to bark and how he barked! He started a mini opera on our street. First he started to howl, probably to tell the other dogs how he was kidnapped and trapped in a tower by an evil dragon that only gave him bread and water and then the other dogs responded, pitying him. And soon all the dogs in a 500 mts radius started howling together, while I waited worriedly for an annoyed neighbor to come and demand that I silence the dog. Maybe I should have taken up Ms. G's suggestion of those drugs. Not for the dog, for me.

Finally after a few hours my mother returned- exhausted and sleepy. While she readied herself for a bath, I quickly filled her up on the details of how the dog was doing. After her quick wash, she came up with me to the roof to check up on Zorro. (For those of you confused about the going up to the roof, I should let you know I live in a three floor apartment and my house consists of the second and third floors, half of the third floor being the roof)

When my mom saw Zorro she started cooing like a mother bird, pouring out loving words which now!!!! Zorro could hear. And then she took two slices of bread and gave it to Zorro. I opened my mouth to tell her that Zorro wouldn't eat it and stopped short when I saw him eagerly gobble it up. I glared at the damn dog and he smirked at me. SMIRKED!

“Let's take him out for a walk,” my mom says.

“Let's wait for bro first. It'll be easier if he's around,” I say.

“Hmmm... he's gone out to play. So we'll take Zorro out for a walk now.”

Reluctantly I agreed to it, but I was secretly happy inside at the prospect of taking a dog out for a walk. Quickly I changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, not really looking for comfort but more for looking great talking a dog for a walk. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

Finally when my mom was ready too, we stood at the terrace door, the honor of holding Zorro's lease bestowed on me. Looking at the six flights of stairs in front of me, I shivered slightly.

“Come on Zorro,” I tell him, nudging him to go. Zorro gave me a bored look and yawned. After trying unsuccessfully to shift him, I turned to my mother and started saying, “Ma! What do I-” Zorro leapt down the staircase almost ripping my arm out of its socket.

“SLOW DOWN! SLOW DOWN!” I screamed.

“WOOF WOOF!”

I was dragged down the six flights of stairs that I dreaded so much, the dog pulling me forward like a steamroller. Luckily we didn't meet anyone else on the stairs; I dread to think of what would have happened then.

At last Zorro was stopped by the building gate, barking, probably what meant “Free! I'm frrrreeeee!!” and then he proceed to try to jump over the gate.

My mother joined me shortly, laughing at my little trip down. I scowled at her darkly. It's when we went onto the street was when I realized what my perfect role, if I ever wished to act, would be. THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME !

To avoid losing control of Zorro I had to keep a hold of his leash near his neck and this kept me in a permanently hunched position. I screamed myself sore, screaming, “Zorro no! NO!”

And that dog just kept dragging me about. Here, there, everywhere! My street became his own personal toilet. Never did he have to shit more than he had to do that day. Each pole, ditch, tree and grassy area belonged to him. It was his right to give a piece of himself to it.

He would drag me to pole and shit, looking at me the whole time, either to say, “Ha-ha you look like this!” or “Isn't it beautiful. A lovely brown!” Ya to match my eyes. Then he would drag me to yet another pole and shit there and turn back to look at me and say, “Ah! Don't you think I did a better job with this one?” Yes. Yes I did.

The only thing worse than the poles were the ditches. Yes you heard me- D.I.T.C.H.E.S
It was like Zorro wanted to play a different type of hopscotch with me. He would hope into a ditch and when I fell in, he would jump out.

The next thing he did was taken out of an old Bollywood movie. You know, the running around the trees with your lover. Only this one involved him running around a pole while I ran after him. I stopped chasing him and stood still, smiling to myself smugly thinking that now he couldn't run around  anymore. But that S.O.B just ran around me, tying me to the pole!

When I finally set myself free, that's when the real drama started. A boy, maybe a couple years older than me, came walking down the street. With two female Golden Retrievers. Now isn't that just lovely?

It was love at first sight.

Zorro turning his head after laughing at me, spots the fair beauties coming towards him. His eyes lock with the fairer of the two. They look at each other and sparks fly, explosives light and they run in slow motion, barking in pure happiness, the wind blowing softly, a romantic tune and then they are stopped short, choking as they reach the end of their lease.

The two dogs mourned sadly at each other, trying to get away from the humans that had a hold on them. A crowd had started to form since the dogs were blocking the narrow road and they watched the love story play out in front of them. The lad who held the two female dogs was scrawny as hell and yet he had unimaginable strength! The other female who wasn't the least bit interested in Zorro, stood to the side and yawned like she was telling the other dog, “You can have him if you like. I can get better.”

The great tragic of Zorro and the other female was starting to piss me off as it reminded me of my own pathetic excuse of a love life. It's annoying and harsh that two dogs can find true love at once when here I was without a boyfriend and anything that even resembled love in my life!!


Finally the boy was able to pull the dog away and as they went their way Zorro turned to look at me accusingly.

“Tough luck old boy,” I told him with a grin.

And to punish me, he went and jumped into a ditch.

Well the rest of the story is hardly worth writing about, Ms. G came home later that evening and took away Zorro and I was finally able to rest into a comfy chair, my back showing signs of being broken, my shoes muddy, the smell of crap in my nose and my shoulders relaxed in a feeling of good riddance!

The Blog Craze

Why do people write blogs? Seriously why?

Why am I writing a blog you ask? That's simple love, coz everyone is!!

I mean there isn't anything fantastic about my reason to write one. I got an account on Blogger over a year back and completely forgot about it until I noticed that one of my friends had started writing one. So I head over to his page and find that he started writing one because one of his friends had been writing one! 
( Wow I wrote 'one' six times in that paragraph!)

So there I was, switching between the two blogs, finding out the inner secrets of their minds- what they see when they look, what they think when they think. (Crazy I know!)

And so I thought to myself, "Hey! You have an empty blog waiting for you, a new keyboard waiting to be broken into... Why don't you write a blog too!"

And that's when the idea struck me my dear readers..
I can write too!

(Actually the main reason for my starting a blog was coz I was jealous that my friends have ones of their own. )

Note
Did you notice my last three sentences started with an A?
Well of course you did! Coz that what you all are, critics looking for mistakes. *Growls*

You know what I love about typing something? Its how fast my fingers move on the keyboard. It's so fast that sometimes I have to stop to think before I can type and that ruins my flow andallmywordsendupgettingjumbledup!

http://youtu.be/Meepit7SVtY

Its like a contest with me every time. How fast can I type? How much can I type in a minute? I love it!! Sometimes I type for the sake of typing. If I go to a mall, I go to the nearest electronics store and locate the section that holds the laptops and then I start my craze for typing.

I pick my targets well. Big laptops with big keyboards.
I open the word doc and stare at the blank page with love.
And then I.... Think about what I'm going to write. (Haha! You thought I'd say type didn't ya?)
THEN I TYPE! I TYPE I TYPE I TYPEEEEEE!

I start off with something random, my name, what I like and then I look up and see people staring at me so I write about them.

An attendant was pretty pissed off when he came forward to see what I was typing and realized how perfectly I had described his nose.

Ah I've strayed far from the topic at hand! Why do people write blogs?
My reason, if you haven't guessed it yet, is because I love to type. (DUH!)

Others might think of their blog as their personal diaries, ones they can pour their heart and soul into.

The thing about blogs are, once you start one, your outlook on the world changes. Everything suddenly seems important! You could write a blog on the coffee you just had, on the juice you just spilled, how the earth looks after it has rained, why you like something and why you hate it.

You could just look out of the window and think, "Ah the sky! I'll write something about it in my blog." (I'm telling you, that's the truth and nothing but the truth)

But what I want to ask you, dear reader is- Why do you read a blog?

More on this next time!!!

Adiós