Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Abeerism.

This one is self explanatory.



While I was talking to S, something transpired and she referred to crazyness as Abeeritude. Either that, or something really uncool is abeeritude. I'm hoping its the former.

I Love Your Type

This is India at its most unique. Handpainted type.

Only The Unloved Hate

Thanks to a complete by-chance moment, I caught a video Zhi C had linked onto the FB newsfeed. From the time that I have seen the video to the moment I put this down to blog, I have not been able to forget what I saw.
There is no other way to describe what you're about to read, as it is sheer brilliance. Its a brilliant brilliant monologue, with some very pronounced words and some extremely resonant imagery. It is from 194o, but believe you me, it is just as real (more so if you ask me) and applicable today.

Enjoy:
I'm sorry but I don't want to be an Emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible, Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that. We all want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone and the earth is rich and can provide for everyone.

The way of life can be free and beautiful. But we have lost the way.

Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate;
has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.

We have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in:
machinery that gives abundance has left us in want.
Our knowledge has made us cynical,
our cleverness hard and unkind.
We think too much and feel too little:
More than machinery we need humanity;
More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness.

Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.

The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair".

The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die [now] liberty will never perish. . .

Soldiers: don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you, who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder.

Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate, only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers: don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty.

In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written:
"The kingdom of God is within man"
Not one man, nor a group of men, but in all men; in you, the people.

You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let's use that power, let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfil their promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfil that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness.

Soldiers! In the name of democracy, let us all unite!

. . .

Look up! Look up! The clouds are lifting, the sun is breaking through. We are coming out of the darkness into the light. We are coming into a new world. A kind new world where men will rise above their hate and brutality.

The soul of man has been given wings, and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow, into the light of hope, into the future, that glorious future that belongs to you, to me and to all of us. Look up. Look up

                                                         ___________________________

This comes from a monologue in the film, The Great Dictator. Here is the film clip, reset to the soundtrack from Inception. And yes, that's Charlie Chaplin. What you must remember and perhaps will marvel at, if you're like me, is that that is a class actor. Very few people exist in this world who can deliver such a huge monologue in its entirety, within one take. This is the beginning of film history, and to be able to deliver all your lines with such chutzpah? I doff my hat at this man.


Diss For Sale.

Pissed off at someone?
Cant say anything apart from 'go suck on a dick', but cant say that because its too haram?
Well, your search for a halal insult ends right here.

The next time you want to keep things halal, simply say
'go suck on a bone marrow'.

Not only is it technically correct, but its also halal! Yay! 
If that doesnt do the trick, you can add proverbial salt to the marrow by saying 
'and i hope you choke on it and die!'


As always, you're most welcome.

Sunday, May 29, 2011

A Lifetime In Minutes

(Courtesy Shazeea Banu)

I will never forget a quote as beautiful as this.
"It is an ancient need to be told stories. 
But the story needs a great storyteller."

Abeerism.

Abeer Yusuf
Now seducable through rhymes.

Abeer Yusuf
Spazzing since 1989.

Abeer Yusuf
Spontaneously combustible.


Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Have You Abeer-ed Today?

I was recently privileged enough to be awarded my own verb on Facebook.
Of course I would love to regale you and your brilliant sense of humour by asking you what you think Abeering means, but because I fear the deluge of responses that might come in, I wont. 
Instead I'll tell you what it means to 'Abeer'. 
If you are Abeering, you have nothing better to do. Simple and short and sweet like that. Useless too.

If it piques your curiousity as to how this verb came into being, well, the funny story is that I like to do this thing, which 'normal' people deem silly. See, at my university cafe, whenever someone makes a purchase at the Drinks counter, you get a receipt. Now the machine that produces the receipt is a little conky I think, because it severs 96.5% of the receipt, but the remaining part stays stuck to the next Reciept That Will Be. So basically, until someone doesnt yank off the whole receipt thing from the machine, this collection of linked 97% disjointed receipts rest uneasily around the cashier. And me, well, nothing makes me happier than to tear them all apart, specially when theres this huuuuuge chain of receipts to yank off and no one gives a care about them. So I just basically stand there, yanking one receipt after the other, finally making a nice thick glossy paper collection, and go and throw it in the Recycling Bin. One day, while I was enjoying this particular hobby of mine, this person I know came up and observed what I was doing, then commented, saying I was very 'bo liao'. This obviously means I have nothing better to do, we're just not sure what dialect this is in. So when I went back home to ask a friend of a friend how bo liao was spelt, in response I got this pretty little message saying that having nothing better to do ought to count as Abeering.


So now that you've read this and everything, only one question remains.
Refer to the blog post title for the question.
And if you havent already, stop wasting your time. Get on with Abeering already!

Abeerism

I make spazzing look like an acquired art.

Ubi bene, ibi patria.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Guess Which One

is more popular.
Please dont focus on the video, just listen to the songs.




Now listen to this.





Now guess which one deserves more recognition.
Yeah, Santa Claus isnt real either.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Dear You,

This is just to let you know that I love the element of surprise.
Unless you wish to suddenly break up with me, or decide to cheat on me.
In which case, I dont.
A.

If You're In The Arts & Want To Break Up With Someone

Kindly use the following line.

"I'm sorry, but you're just too mainstream for me."


Alternatively,

"Its not you, its me. I'm too abstract for you."

Followed of course by a chorus of why the person deserves someone [insert opposite of abstract].


You're very welcome.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

When I Was A Kid

. I wanted nothing more in the world than to get glasses. The coolest kids in my class had them and I thought that that was the only thing standing in the way of my popularity and awesome-ness. I craved glasses so much, I did whatever I could to spoil my eyesight. I sat right in front of the TV, because I'd heard that watching TV from too close a distance would ruin your eyes. Because my parents would always catch me within a minute or two, I'd have to watch it from afar. I used to hate them for that. And conspired to switch the TV on at night when they went to bed. Except that never worked because I used to sleep with them, and at 8.30pm. I refused to eat carrots because apparently that was what caused good eyesight. My mum used to put kajal in my eyes every morning and every night, and one day I came back home telling my mother that they'd just banned kajal at school because a lot of children looked messy with kajal dripping all round their eyes. My mum believed me. Because you know, kajal is one of the major reasons why Indian people have such good eyesight. In conclusion, I didnt get glasses, I still dont look cool, but I'm really glad I'm not blind today.

. I was that kid who loved playing with boxes that stuff came in. My parents never bought much stuff, so I didnt get to play around cartons as much as I would have loved to, but I got my fair share when Papa brought home sample cartons from his company stuff. When I was in Kuwait, I'd take cartons that came in, turn one upside down, run to the kitchen, take a dish towel, one butter knife, 2 forks, 2 plates, one tiny vase, my 2 little seats that only I could fit into, and run back to my room, and create a faux candlelit dinner table. All our life, we've only had one butter knife and to this day, we still use it. Id set up the table, pretend play with it until Papa came home, then when he did, get my parents to sit down, eat imaginary food that I'd cooked and go to sleep a content child. In KL, I used to crawl into boxes (the tinier the better!) and see how long I could stay put. Then I'd try to get places by inching the box forward. I could go like 1.2 metres until I gave up and walked. I've never had patience like that. 2 days ago, my new laptop arrived in this sleek Asus carton. Though no body part of mine can fit into it, you can guess what I was more interested in. I am SO glad that I havent really changed all that much. What really got me though was the fact that the box was printed with soy ink. How cool is that?!

. I thought Capri-Sonne was a drink from the future. I felt like I was in the future when I drank it. Because of its packaging. Also I remember having read in 2000 (or Y2K if you wanta be REALLY cool), that silver was the colour of the future. Now that I am in the future, I think that article was highly misleading. The future is depressing.

Dear Old British Farts,

Trust my 15-year old self when I say that there is nothing whatsoever ordinary about the O' Levels.
It is everything but ordinary.

Also, I hate Math. I know for a fact that I will never apply trignometry in my life. I haven't had to until today at least. Owing to that, can I please have 4 months of my life back, that I spent hopelessly starting at charts and diagrams negotiating space, time and volume? I will send you my personal address privately.
A.

When I Grow Up

I want to be so happy, that sadness would pee in its pants at the thought of my name.
I dont mind paying dues for now, but when I grow up, my ambition is to be happy. Forever.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Abeerism.



If you would like to avoid me, please station yourself around my office. For that is the one place I never go to.

For as long as I shall live, I shall retard.

I'm sorry, I was too busy retarding.

Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how retarded I am.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Diss For Sale!

Yknow how every third person claims to be a grammar Nazi? And whenever they call themselves that, you immediately think, 'Uh, yeah, I think your grammar needs to be above average for you to qualify for that position' but obviously you cant really say that? 

Well, if you were looking for a solution, stop.
I have one.

The next time someone calls themselves a grammar Nazi, look them straight in the eye and say, 
"No, you're not a grammar Nazi. You're a grammar Jew."

Monday, May 9, 2011

on knowledge.

have not pride over the knowledge you accrue and attain, think of it not as something alien to others, for soon, when others too acquire it, you will have nought but the good fortune of having attained it in advance. nought but that.

cultivate instead an understanding of how that knowledge may be of help to others, assist those in need of it to greater heights and you shall have created your very own niche, to which people would look upto, rather than sigh at, both with spite at your knowledge dissemination and awe at the recesses of your mind.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Dear Arts Degree,

Thank you for ruining every movie I will ever watch, every magazine article I will ever read and every picture I will ever look at.
Now intertextuality haunts me, psychoanalysis makes me ponder and structuralism stalks me. 
Now a movie isnt just a movie- its a look at how various people are represented, at how stereotypes dominate and reinforce ideologies.
Now a magazine article is more than just about punctuations and punchlines, its about policies and power relations. Its about dissecting and getting to read between the lines the writer wrote about.
Now a picture is about semiotics. Its about the structure, its about the aesthetics, its about the philosophy and about the layers it perpetuates.


Most of all, Dear Arts degree, thank you for giving me a vocabulary that no one apart from a fellow Arts student would understand. 
A.

Dear World Media,

I have a question.
Who made Kate Middleton's shoes?

Your welcome,
A.


PS. All of you focused on the dress, the tiara, the earrings, the bridesmaid's bum, everything. But not a peep about the shoes. Who's your daddy nao?

Dear Arts Degree,

Thank you.
From the bottom of my heart.
As if my loud and boisterous, opinionated personality wasn't enough to not get me a boyfriend, I now have all this extra knowledge to deal with.
Now I have educated opinions. I can name drop Bourdeau, Marx and Appadurai in conversations (and make sense from it!). I want to say 'life trajectories' in place of what would have, before, been an easier alternative. And now because I'm educated enough, I dont even know what the simpler way of saying life trajectories is.
As if it wasnt enough that I dont find guys girls normally find hot, hot, I now have the added burden of judging the person's intelligence, very strongly.
I now judge a guy's opinions based on the bases (thats plural of basis, btw) he uses, and dont just take him at face value.

You, dear Arts degree, have ruined every chance I would ever have of getting a boyfriend. Thank you.
A.

Dear You,

I cant wait to watch Friends with you at home, after a long and tiring day. 
To guffaw and laugh.
And then go to sleep.

The Ire Of Ira

Ira is the name of our Indonesian help, who's a charm to be around.
She joined us some time last year and hails from the mountainous town of Yogyakarta. She's lovely, just as so many Indonesians are, and cant really speak much English, but we make do. If you've been following the Mama O Mama posts carefully, you'll notice that a number of posts stem from the hilarious stuff Mama tells Ira in her broken make-do Malay.
About 3 weeks ago, I was having breakfast and Ira, who's a generally very smiley and chatty person, was ranting about something to Mum. I just had to glance at Mum for her to start telling me about the story. Ira lives in Gombak, and her husband, who was here uptill some time ago, had to return to Indonesia for some visa formality, meaning that Ira lives in Gombak alone. Now they have Malay neighbours, and one of them is a man. A man who peeps through a peephole he's made using a hammer into a wall that lets him see when someone goes into the bathroom to bathe, namely Ira. Ira didnt know that there was a peephole, but she can recall hearing a loud thud one day. To her mind, nothing happened after that thud, but she later found out that the man had made a peephole. Its a tiny hole, and the cunning man covers it up using chewing gum, peeping through it when he knows Ira's going for a shower and covering it up when she's done (Ira's children are older than I am, just so you know). And this man is very old. So as you can imagine, we were all pretty disgusted about this. 
But here is why I am so glad we have Ira in our lives and I've had the chance to witness a woman like her. Ira found out. And was quite upset about it. Yknow what she did? Nothing. No police report, no complaint. No nothing. Instead, she took a hammer, and tore down the whole wall.
As the consequence of her action is that major, I am going to repeat it again. She tore down the wall. With a hammer. And the fun doesnt end there. You know what she did after that? She went up to that man and told him,
"If you have the balls to look, look at me properly. There is no need to hide."
Imagine. And you know what else she did? She went up and told the man's wife about her husband's activity. The man was so ashamed he couldnt do anything. He was embarrassed and so was the wife. Ira told them that she pitied the wife for having such a husband. The man did nothing about it.

I am so proud I know a woman like Ira, and that she's been sent to us to just add a dash of heroism to our lives.
Who needs Hollywood when heroes are all around us?
Ira, my hero.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Dear You,

Please get here soon. I cannot wait to be dysfunctionally happy with you.
A.

Mama O Mama!

. We were sleeping one day and talking about my impending nuptials (this is a joke) and Mama goes, 'Abeer, the only way any guy will ever marry you is if he's blind'. Then adds as an afterthought, 'and deaf'.

. We were sitting round the tv this one day and Papa saw Yusuf Pathan grimace at some slight injury on the field (IPL). So he goes, 'Look at that. Cant even take that much of pain. Such a drama queen. Pathan.' The Pathan part was meant to be like, 'o, he's a Pathan who're known to be strong but like yknow, he's not'. I dont think he's a real Pathan though, I'm not sure. Okay, this isnt about that. So when he said Pathan, Mama corrected him saying, 'no, he's behaving like a drama queen because he's a Yusuf'.
To which I said, 'if there's anyone who's more further away from their name Ma, its you'. Because we all know that Mama's name is Razia Sultana who was this brave freedom fighter for India at one point of time and whatnot. Compare Razia Sultana the freedom fighter and this woman, who's as meek as a mouse, tiny and small. Hilarious non?
But no, my mum has a wisecrack for me. She went, 'yeah, I suppose you're right. But if there's anyone the furthest away from their name its you Abeer, because you stink all the time'. My name means fragrance.
Of course the insult didnt stop there. She then went, 'O wait, just imagine if your name wasnt Abeer.' And I was like, 'uh, yeah? Then what?' To which she responds, 'You'd stink SO MUCH MORE'.

I hope these are grounds enough for me to elope once I do find Mr. Just Right.

Abeerism.

'Why be fantastic when you can be spaztastic instead?'

'Abeer Yusuf, brilliant by day, epic by night. What dyou do for a living?'

Dear People of The World,

You're not as abstract as you'd like to think you are. You think you can escape the system, but you'll never be able to. You're all socially conditioned to behave a certain way, to react and think a certain way to process infformation in a certain manner. You may think you're being original, but you're really not.


While you mull over this predicament of my statement, kindly excuse me while I go terrorise young children about the non-existence of Santa.
A.