I find myself dreading conversations with new people because I know that they will definitely ask me the inevitable, "So what do you do?" And as much as I would love to say, "I para-glide and juggle in the mornings and at night, I fight crime alongside Underdog", I answer with the more boring, normal, "I'm doing my postgraduation right now". And then it begins - they ask you what you are attempting to specialize in and the moment you say psychology, they pounce on you. I cannot recall a single conversation continuing along this line during which people did not make any stupid comments.
For example, we have the classic "So you're a mind reader huh?" No I'm not a fortune-teller, you brainless chihuahua, what I study is an actual science! And when I do tell them that (in a socially appropriate manner, of course) the next question is about why I did not choose the usual courses. Of course, what they're thinking is Did she not get into any good engineering/medical college? So, to hear me say that I did so out of my own choice is a little staggering and harder for the more conservative ones to digest. At this point, they usually decide that this conversation must end and walk off to find more exciting victims who are, like other normal people, doing a EEE course in a well-reputed yet unheard-of college.
The next one that is probably the more annoying of the lot is the "OK, go on read my mind.. Tell me what I'm thinking about." All this with an eager look on their faces. Knowing that at some level I am being screwed with, I wonder which response to use. Some of the more popular ones are: -
1) "You'll have to pay me first! I charge 500 for each mind-reading." "Rupees?" "No, dollars."
2) Stand with a constipated look on your face for a while before bursting into peals of laughter, saying "Yeah, I think I'm going to go tell her that!" and then walk towards their wives, all the while mumbling to yourself, "Yes that was a brilliant joke! So true!" This works especially well at weddings when you know that his wife is surrounded by a bunch of giggling, gossip-mongering middle-aged women.
3) "OK you really need to get an MRI done. That tumour is really getting in the way of my mind-reading skills."
4) "Uh.. I can't hear a thing. But that's probably because you lack a brain. Don't worry too much though. Most people live through their entire lives, never noticing that they're dunces."
5) "Ecology is unarguably the need of the hour with urgent attention to be diverted towards the more ignored areas of preservation and reforestation." (turn and walk away)
I hope this article finds its way to the more illiterate crowd that prides itself on asking and tormenting psychology students with, what they believe to be, the wittiest one-liners that the world has ever seen. Let us be. Or we will mess with you when you come to us for therapy.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Graduate studies are overrated
I find myself sitting at class, wondering what everything is about. The only thoughts in my head right now are my doubts about whether I am part-vampire but neither parent seems cool enough to be pure-blood. Something has to explain my excessive sensitivity to daylight. Or that could just be sleep. As a dignified post-graduate student, I'm required to say things that make sense and work diligently at my assignments. Yet I find that Facebook is undeniably the best distraction in the business.
People randomly walk into class, sometimes talking about assertiveness or dysfunctional development and I find my thoughts wandering off to chicken frankies and the Pirates of the Caribbean series. And as I think about the colours of Johnny Depp's beads under his hat, my conscience kicks me in the rear, bringing me back to a more distressing reality of research articles and Powerpoint presentations. I wish I was able to ad-lib my presentations and have people wonder where I gathered such insightful information from but that's a long shot. A very long one.
A group of classmates sit next to me, talking about the rubbish that they've added to their presentations and I wonder if they even know that they're five levels higher on the intellectual scale when compared to me. And then a very bimbo-ish comment brings back my faith in my intellectual capacity and I settle into sloth again. I miss the days when I was able to sit in class and not care about what was happening because I had my sturdy notes to drool on. Now I find myself wondering where I can find the notes in question to worship with all sincerity. Stupid adulthood.
The day randomness walks back into my life, I will welcome it with open arms and take it out for a cup of coffee and some good Chinese food.
People randomly walk into class, sometimes talking about assertiveness or dysfunctional development and I find my thoughts wandering off to chicken frankies and the Pirates of the Caribbean series. And as I think about the colours of Johnny Depp's beads under his hat, my conscience kicks me in the rear, bringing me back to a more distressing reality of research articles and Powerpoint presentations. I wish I was able to ad-lib my presentations and have people wonder where I gathered such insightful information from but that's a long shot. A very long one.
A group of classmates sit next to me, talking about the rubbish that they've added to their presentations and I wonder if they even know that they're five levels higher on the intellectual scale when compared to me. And then a very bimbo-ish comment brings back my faith in my intellectual capacity and I settle into sloth again. I miss the days when I was able to sit in class and not care about what was happening because I had my sturdy notes to drool on. Now I find myself wondering where I can find the notes in question to worship with all sincerity. Stupid adulthood.
The day randomness walks back into my life, I will welcome it with open arms and take it out for a cup of coffee and some good Chinese food.
Life Is Beautiful (but it could be better) - A cat's tale
I wake up with a start - my stomach has begun rumbling in anger. I lift myself easily off my bed and walk across a few steps. I stretch myself and yawn, taking in the dismal surroundings. Why do these people always sleep through my breakfast time? I sigh to myself, knowing that it's up to me to wake them yet again. I readied myself and pounced on the door handle, hanging onto it for as long as I could. Ah, I thought to myself as I heard footsteps approaching, finally!!! The door opened and my feeder stepped out lazily and rather unsteadily. Hurry up, I thought to myself impatiently as I rubbed against her feet. She looks outside and mumbles something about "stupidity" and "three in the morning". I walk beside her to check as she gets my food ready and her mumbling continues as I eat but I pay no attention.
I snuggle up into my nook - my nice dark corner. Daylight streams in. Noises of people walking up and down, asking about misplaced books and phones intrude my thoughts every few seconds but they don't disturb me. A few hours later, I sleepily open an eye and my stomach grumbles slightly. I jump onto the floor and stretch... And yawn... And look around lazily... Maybe I should sleep again. I watch as one of my feeders tries to engage me in some sort of patronizing play. I give her a bored look and yawn. Something flits past me and catches my attention. I look around and then get ready to pounce. A pair of feet run past me again and I make my move. A yelp of pain tells me that my aim is still pretty good.
I make my way to the window and settle down for some nice human-watching. Humans of different shapes and sizes seem to be hurrying to get somewhere all the time. I don't get the reason for that. There is nothing to get hassled about. There's just me, my food and my sleep. Oh and those extremely condescending games that I have to indulge in to keep my feeders happy. There is nothing to rush about. I start as I find myself being picked off of my perch, only to be cuddled and gurgled at. A few slashes and curses later, I walk back to my corner and I decide that my day is over. Curling up into a tight ball, I lay my head on my tail and decide to sleep till I'm hungry again. I am content.
I snuggle up into my nook - my nice dark corner. Daylight streams in. Noises of people walking up and down, asking about misplaced books and phones intrude my thoughts every few seconds but they don't disturb me. A few hours later, I sleepily open an eye and my stomach grumbles slightly. I jump onto the floor and stretch... And yawn... And look around lazily... Maybe I should sleep again. I watch as one of my feeders tries to engage me in some sort of patronizing play. I give her a bored look and yawn. Something flits past me and catches my attention. I look around and then get ready to pounce. A pair of feet run past me again and I make my move. A yelp of pain tells me that my aim is still pretty good.
I make my way to the window and settle down for some nice human-watching. Humans of different shapes and sizes seem to be hurrying to get somewhere all the time. I don't get the reason for that. There is nothing to get hassled about. There's just me, my food and my sleep. Oh and those extremely condescending games that I have to indulge in to keep my feeders happy. There is nothing to rush about. I start as I find myself being picked off of my perch, only to be cuddled and gurgled at. A few slashes and curses later, I walk back to my corner and I decide that my day is over. Curling up into a tight ball, I lay my head on my tail and decide to sleep till I'm hungry again. I am content.
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