Socks


Not the cat….

You know this, already. No cats allowed at SloWord. This one is dedicated to actual socks, the things you wear on your feet. Like this one.20160620_183944.jpg

Contrary to what you may be thinking, I am perfectly sane. Socks are mysterious creatures. They are prone to a half-life without the means of radioactivity. They are excellent at camouflage, merging into the texture of life without any provocation. And they do that with only half of a pair, which is a wond’rous feat. All other animals have to either disappear 100% or not at all. Socks are the only creatures on this planet that can lose exactly half of themselves. There is no point in looking for the other half, believe you me. When a sock half goes amok, it goes AWOL for good.

Socks are an essential, but much maligned and much neglected component of our daily lives. People blame socks for many of the ills in our society, such as body odor, poor elasticity and an over-dependence on function over aestheticism. With this article, I shall give socks the place they deserve in society. By the time this goes viral, socks will have been raised to the level they deserve, somewhere between marmalade on toast and purple floppy hats.20161116_090218.jpg

See, socks are important, that’s why we have so many idioms that are built around socks. To quote Brave Sir Launcelot, socks are “right for my um, ah,  idiom”. One bright and regular correspondent remarked that there is an idiom for every idiot. It may well be that she was calling me an idiot. I haven’t had time to investigate that yet. In any case, the fact is that socks feature in many idiotic idioms, for all idioms are somewhat idiotic. {Digression Alert: What does “handsome is as handsome does?” mean??? The grammar just does not work for me. Nounifying an adjective is even worse in my book than verbifying a noun. Remind me to let the Peeved Punjabi rant about these horrendously horrifying verbal and grammatical monstrosities created by otherwise bright MBAs. And yes, I do know that I just made up shit like nounifying and verbifying… It was meant ironically. }

So then let’s look at these idiomatic idiocies using the idiom of socks. I mean, what else do you have to do? You’re here, because you don’t have anything better to do, don’t you? So here we go then.

Keep your socks on.

It could well be that you are a prudent and calm person, at peace with your neighbors and colleagues at work and you wish them well. You, therefore, keep your socks on, and keep your socks, too, calm and boring. Like these boring, all grey socks.img-20160426-wa0050.jpeg

Yaaaawwwwn.

Maybe, you let yourself go once in a while and you indulge your wilder side and slip into something like this next one, or the first two sober-tending-to-rebellion ones.

img-20161015-wa0012.jpeg

Pull your socks up!

You’ve heard this saying, right? It’s meant to pep you up. It’s a multi-vitamin of sorts. It’s a threat and encouragment rolled into one. This demonstrates broad appeal and versatility. Rather like this example.20160826_073329.jpg

When you put these on, you will get going. Your socks will be pulled up, man! Actually, these are pretty long socks, going well up my shin, so they are pulled up quite normally. Slip into these socks when you have that big presentation to make and you will slay ’em. How can they possibly resist the strength, the sheer magnetism,  the brilliant reflection of blues emanating from your feet? The correct answer is, they cannot. These socks exude uncompromising power. If they don’t keel over and curl into a fetal position at this, you know you have a tough crowd to deal with and you better initiate Plan B. (Plan B is also known as “Bamboozle with Bullshit”. Thus, Plan B. See? Now you know. You’re welcome.)

Put a sock in it!

I know, you’ve often felt like saying it when you read this blog. I wish, you’ve said to yourself, when you’ve been busy reading my recipes, that he would get on and get to the recip
e already! Which proves one thing. You talk to yourself, just as I do. Which, by the way, apparently makes you a genius. I wrote an article about that once. Read it here. See how reading SloWord makes you feel better? No self-help and motivational book can bring you the peace SloWord can. No Deepak can bring you the light this next pair of socks can.

( Ask a Hindi speaking friend about that last sentence. It’s brilliant, really. Not because I wrote it, which I did, and therefore, it is, but because it’s cross-lingual in it’s flamboyance. Also, look up “modesty” in the dictionary.)

20161204_185754.jpgThis beauty of a pair that will make your pulse rate pulsate. Feast your eyes on it. Savour the richness of the contrasts. Orange, blazing bright, overshadowing the bright blue. One glance at these little beauties and they’ll be putty in your hands. Though why anyone would want that greasy putty in their hands, I have no idea.

Sock it to me!

Without further ado.img-20160828-wa0002.jpeg

If that didn’t sock it to ya, you’re probably the type that chews broken bottles for breakfast. These are bombastic, bright, brilliant, bright, colorful and bright. In short, they’re bright. In pink shorts and these socks, you will make a statement. “Look at me”, you will effectively scream, nay, shriek. But, pause and think, when you do look at them, the world becomes brighter and isn’t a brighter world what we all desire? Countless saints, sadhus and meditative specialists have sought a world that was devoid of darkness and have tried to inflict their teachings on to you. Many of them have made millions of dollars in the process. I may be onto something here…..

Knock your socks off.

Now we’re getting into the really top of the line stuff, not for the faint of heart. Readers discretion advised. Readers with sensitive eyes are advised to use sunglasses, or look through photonegative paper. I’m not quite sure where you would find such paper nowadays. I suppose you could try looking at it through the viewfinder or preview screen of your digital camera.

(SloWord, its writer, its writer’s family and descendants are not liable for any retinal damage, nervous tics and disorders or any medical conditions arising out of the viewing of such imagery as may be found here. Proceed with caution.)

img-20160827-wa0000.jpeg

img-20161016-wa0005.jpegPaired with navy blue sneakers with lime green accents, these really bring out the, uh, er, hmm, aah. Well. You come up with something…

I suggest a stiff drink to calm your nerves.

All socks portrayed here are the property of the writer and no socks were harmed in the photographic process.

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An Anthology of Personal Poetry


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I hear sunsets go well with poetry so I took this photograph from my collection. Just so we could test that theory.

Since I hear no clamor from publishers wanting to publish anything written by me, I have decided to publish my “poetry” here. I suspect it will make them look quite silly. That is, if this blog is on their reading list.

Most of these lines appeared as throwaways on assorted Facebook groups. When you read them you will know why they were thrown away. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

“Oh Alright,” you say, “Let me read them, stop talking!”

“What? Me talk? Heavens! I’m the quietest, shyest person you ever did meet. I don’t like to talk too much. I prefer to let you get on with it. Action, you know! That’s the ticket. Stop the nattering and get going. Yes sir, ( or madam ), you won’t find Ajesh B going on and on longer than necessary to get the point across. Brevity! Simplicity! Brevity! I said that twice didn’t I? Hmm. It goes to show the value of brevity. And I only want to say one last thing… uh… what? Stop? Stop what? Oh talking. You wish to read? Ok. Go on then. Do let me know how it goes, won’t you?”

Lamentary

The post was not a pome
It was a lament, no more.
Poetry is not my home.
I shall write it no more.

There was a time when
Words I wrote were in rhyme
Curs’t it was, my pen
But I’m cured just in time.

How lovely is my prose
How amusing and funny!
This ditty I must close
For I hear the call “Bunny!”

Blues #1

The old man who played the blues
on his guitar while everyone did snooze
was beaten for his pain
and for raising cain
“it’s not the playing but the singng, you goose!”

Orange Juice Blues 

The old man who played the blues
One morning while he drank his juice
remarked to no one
I wonder if anyone
Drank coffee as if it was booze

Ghostly Roast

A lady who hunted ghosts
Travelled to both of the coasts
Of ghosts she found none
She had tea with a bun
with some potatoes, pickles and roasts

Ode to Cats

Violets are blue,
my nose is red,
what cats do,
is fill me with dread.

Five Easy Sandwiches


English: A pat of butter, served on a leaf, wi...
English: A pat of butter, served on a leaf, with a butter knife and bread (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ok, I think this blog could do with a bump in readership. Now food, recipes and kitty cats improve the stats but I don’t like cats ( what? you had no idea? Hmmm … you must be new around here. )  So here are some simple recipes. I cannot promise you that these sandwiches are healthy, calorie-wise or otherwise good for you. I can tell you that these are good to eat, fast to make and as far as I know contain no lead, melamine, dog food or antibiotics. Without further ado, on with the list. Continue reading “Five Easy Sandwiches”

Ode to The Nose


A kitten licking its nose.
I put this in there to entice the unsuspecting cat lovers…..    A kitten licking its nose. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He’s a good friend to me, he is.
Wherever I go he goes before me.
In a public urinal when I go to piss
He alerts me to dally not, but pee
quickly and get the hell out. Continue reading “Ode to The Nose”

The First Irregular SloWord Awards


SW-Number 1 scaledThis is the first ever award I’ve ever handed out. It goes out to the reader who has left the most comments on this here blog, SloWord, since it’s birth 3 years ago.

This soon to be prestigious award will be handed out at random intervals, but always based on solid data.

Our winner, ladies and gentlemen, <dramatic pause followed by dramatic rustling of dummy envelope> of the First Ever #1 Commenter on SloWord Award is, The Lady of The Cakes! <applause or deafening silence>

Despite our differences of opinion on the subject of cats, she is perfectly sound on OKRA and for those who know me, OKRA trumps everything. I mean I’m taking shots to cure me of my cat allergy, but an OKRA fix is an OKRA fix.

So, The Lady of The Cakes, please feel free to download this image that you see up there and I hope you will display this with some pride and loads of amusement. Remember, you’re the first one to win this award. No one can take that away from you. When it becomes, if, if, it becomes famous and prestigious you will be able to boast reminisce about this as you sip your prune juice while seated in your comfortable rocking chair.

Here is a picture of a cat and some OKRA. We must have balance….

kitten-913182_1280okra-552750_1280

My 200th BlogPost


cat-38251_1280This is the 200th post on SloWord and yes, I’ve inflicted your timelines, your readers, your email inboxes 199 times already. Luckily, you’ve managed to ignore me successfully 199 times. Good for you! Now, however, this here 200th post is upon you. You can ignore it too. I mean, why spoil a perfect record of absenteeism? Wordpress also reports that this blog has been in existence for 3 years this month. So that’s another reason to mark this out as something special.

When I started blogging in earnest it was for a very particular reason. Continue reading “My 200th BlogPost”

My Birthmonth Festival


August
I made this!! Arty, no?? Restrain yourself from making copies… (c) Ajesh Sharma aka SloWord et al.

August is almost upon us. August brings with it the day the body that owns the authors on this blog was born. Yessirreee, The SloMan, The LastWord, LeggieLefty and the PeevedPunjabi were born in August. In order to celebrate, I am offering you an easy way to wish me well.

Instead of me writing a self-congratulatory birthday post, as I usually do, I am Continue reading “My Birthmonth Festival”

Happy Fifth Anniversary!


English: A butterfly, in Pome county, Tibet.
English: A butterfly, in Pome county, Tibet. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today is, according to WordPress, and WordPress should know, the exact day 5 years ago when The SloMan signed up at WordPress and stared at the screen thinking “What is this blog thing and how do you go about blogging?”

Since that day, 5 years ago, The SloMan has seen much activity. Over 2 years ago, he merged Continue reading “Happy Fifth Anniversary!”

Pride, Prejudice and Curiosity


A scene with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy after a ...
A scene with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy after a swim in a lake is recognized as “one of the most unforgettable moments in British TV history”. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The words “Pride” and “Prejudice”, especially when joined with a non-contrasting conjunction are to a certain gender what, reportedly, catnip is to a feline. Some of those, personally known to me, have watched Colin Firth‘s D’Arcy in a wet t-shirt scene a few thousand times. Of course, people of all genders are simply fond of Jane Austen and count the story of Fitz and Liz as a great love story. Continue reading “Pride, Prejudice and Curiosity”

Jeepers! Peepers!


KITTEN 013
KITTEN 013 (Photo credit: John of Wales)

A small ground floor flat (apartment, if American) is what we loved in and lived in. As a newly married couple in our mid-twenties, we both worked for “computer companies” where we “did computers”.

It is important to understand the layout of the flat. It isn’t actually, but it’s more interesting (to me) to say that it is. The layout is, I mean. Is interesting, I mean.

(We’ve been through this before, the flat / apartment thing, so try not to get confused. Read this post first, where I threw in not just a reference to this, at that point unwritten, post, but a description of the flat.)

Now, here is a drawing of the flat.  LGflat

Note the following elements.

  • Shower – with window
  • Bedroom
  • Cat droppings room
  • Landlord’s generously donated dining table in the corner of the cat droppings room
  • Window next to the table
  • Front door. This is actually the landlord’s side door.

Note also the elements not shown.

  • The four chairs that matched the dining table
  • The beds

The kitchen layout is slightly wrong, but I can’t be bothered to fix it, and anyway the kitchen doesn’t appear in this story. (It does in another story, though, albeit in a rather understated way, so you may as well memorize the general layout now and save later.)

Note inhabitants of this flat consisted of two IT people. The male member ( relax, it is not that kind of story ), was often not home for long periods of time.This led to another amusing little incident that I shall save for another day.

Right, so the scene is set. When the curtain goes up, the couple is discovered at the table. I am sitting in a chair that faces the window, which is about 2 feet away from me. The window has glass panes that use striped blocks that act as privacy filters. If the light is right you can see shapes but no details can be seen. Dinner has been completed. There is no TV, radio or any other form of entertainment.

My young wife is sitting in the chair with the window on her right. The table is spread with paper, expense forms, cash memos, travel expense vouchers.

Me: What time is it? Hell, it is 1:30 in the morning. Damn, these expense claims!
She: How long will it take you to finish this?
Me: At least another hour, I think. There’s 8 weeks worth of travel to be accounted for. Help me sort the memos by type, then we’ll sort each pile by date. That should make it easier to fill out these f…ing expense forms.

Silence as we worked through the paper for the next 20 minutes.

Then I look up to find a pile of memos and I freeze. Clearly to be seen through the privacy glass of the window is the form of a white round neck t-shirt, encasing a neck and chest and above that a head rising upwards from underneath the window.

Me: What is that?!

The shape sank away quickly.

She: What is it?

Me <pushing back chair, violently> There’s someone just outside the window looking in at us.

As I say this, the form rises again. She yells ” Oh My god! I see him too!”.

I rush to the front door, shouting loudly, ‘Who’s there?” alternately in Hindi and Bengali. I unlatch the door and rush out. At the back of the house I see a white vested, lungi-clad man jumping over the wall and racing away. I stand there, panting, with my wife behind me.

She: It’s no use, now. He’s got away.

We come back in, shut and lock the door.

She: You have got to speak the landlord when you go to give him the rent tomorrow.

The next scene is at the landlord’s front door. I give him the rent and tell him about the incident.

He: Yes, I thought I heard some yelling. I meant to warn you about that guy, you know. I realise you guys are young and newly married, but you should be more careful in the flat. It is on the ground floor you know.

Me: Oh, so this guy is a regular, then?
He: Oh yes, I’ve thrown hot water at him a couple of times, but he does not learn.

The lesson learned is this.

If you’re young, new married and deeply in love, and live a life of bliss in a ground floor flat, make sure you get curtains that properly protect your privacy.

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Korean unisex toilet?
Korean unisex toilet? (Photo credit: wili_hybrid)