# 1 - Scribblings Far From Atrocious

Ladies and gentle the mans, presenting to you...

'Atrocious Scribblings' is what he calls himself and he has the nicest things to say about my blog:P But make no mistake, he doesn't sugar-coat and calls a spade, an axe exactly a spade.

We first met over his comment on an ode to my best friend. In the next comment he mentioned having exams and not studying and I remember being vaguely worried in passing (I'm paranoid about exams; doesn't matter if I'm writing them or someone else is). Then I dropped over to his blog and thoroughly liked what I saw.

We never chatted like I did with the girls, we never became bosom buddies, but he has become one of my principal male readers, a valued one. For he's honest; he doesn't go 'oooooh, superbly fantastically brilliant post' when he doesn't mean it.

His blog is as random as mine is, no particular genre to it. But unlike usual guy blogs, is not abstruse or techie or filled with descriptions of his girlfraand's amazing-smelling hair. One thing his posts never fail to do is make you snort with laughter. Right from his very first.

www.atrociouscribblings.blogspot.com

His language is what impressed me most. Very precise without being stiff, not too pompous or pretentious yet not trashy and sms-ey. No verbal diarrhea whatsoever, he keeps it mostly short and clean. He uses proper, non-conversational words and still manages to convey the emotion/situation very well (unlike me who is most comfortable in English, even over her mother tongue, and yet uses Hindi and Malayalam expressions to bring in that exact feeling).

I have a special respect for guys who aren't afraid to emote (genuinely). They tend not to get touchy-feely unless they are fourteen and oh-so-in-lowe but AS's birthday post for his mother was truly a gem. I'm sure his mother, if she ever read/s it, would be very proud and even more touched. And if that was touching, his 'reunion' with a long-lost-never-met cousin contests for attention with Bollywood itself:D

He makes you drool (in completely different ways) with Kakao Brownies and cars. And his one serious post makes you think about a tiny yet hugely significant thing. He's just gone ahead and jumped right into the crux of the matter - no frills. The fact that he even felt bad for the dog made me respect him more (being the self-proclaimed animal-crazie that I am).

AND the best part about him being my blog reader? He's one of the very, very few who checks back to see if I have replied to comments. 

That is something that means a lot to me. For it shows that you're truly interested in what I have to say to you.

One thing he lacks is posting frequency but I don't blame him with his 3 month-long exams and all. But I could use more scribbled atrocities (are you LISTENING, A.S?). And he needs more readers, people to read all the sensibly funny stuff that he churns out. Maybe that'll prod him into writing more often. 

Anybody, pliss to oblige? (expression © chintan gupta:D)

Head right over to Atrocious Scribblings, peepuls.

P.S: Let me know if you have any badge preferences, A.S. Thank you for your wonderful comment and hope you like this:)

P.P.S: In case you STILL haven't guessed, this was the promised post about my favorite commentor on my 100th post.

P.P.S.S: # 1 is shared by two bloggers... post about the other one will be up tomorrow!!:)

An Ode To A Family

*touchwood*

Have you ever experienced the feeling of completeness that a family can give you?

You know the part twenty five years after happily-ever-after? The part that they don'y show in movies or write about in stories?
That's the part when you know that a man and a woman a gentleman and a lady have taken the life that God destined for them and made it a success, a life that they can be proud of having lived, the beautiful family that they made from scratch.

I have had the opportunity to be a teeny part of this family or rather I have adopted myself into theirs.
(In case you're still lost, I went to my bff's place for the weekend and it's their family that I'm talking about)


I love the way they have made it happen, love the way they bound together bits of yarn, wool and all things nice to make their little world cozy. It's not perfect and they don't pretend that it is and maybe that, the fact that they live for themselves for each other, is what makes them so *searching for the right word, none seem to be enough*.


The Father is everything you think of when the word comes to your mind. Responsible, solid, dependable, a wee bit intimidating, honest, respected in every sense of the word, fun, loving, caring beyond all else, typically grumpy when sick, supportive, witty, quietly proud of his daughters, provides guidance not advice... and so very much more. I respected him much before I even met him; it only grew. He is the foundation for their worlds, everything begins from him.
And I keep wondering what he thinks about me, if I measure anywhere near the high standards he's set for his daughters.

The Mother is a copy of mine. Ditto except mine is slightly more harum-scarum and she's slightly more Malayalised. This itself is my greatest tribute to her for my mom is, like, the ultimate to me.
And she treats me no different from her daughter; I say this not because she said it to me (she didn't) but because I can feel it. I can feel it in the way she holds me by my waist and talks to me. Apart from all that, sensible, iron-willed, AWESOME cook (I put on two kilos in as many days, you can imagine), organised, careful, pious, squeaky-clean, ordered are words that do their best to describe her but still fail a little bit.

Sisters to match, a paired set who are complete opposites to each other and beautifully accomplished in their own way but very much a part of the parents. And a muthashi (grandma), who is cute and fluffy and is a vast treasure trove of surprises, stories and tradition.

They have their own ways of dealing with problems, with life, with social situations. They are a unit, a tribe unto themselves.
They are stable.
They have deep-rooted value systems, beliefs that are the DNA of who they are.
They respect. They care. They follow the rules and make some for themselves.
They teach their children. By example.

They are a family.

I haven't done them justice, not even close.
But I'm glad they let messy, scatter-brained me into their lives, even for a weekend.
And if my own family, one that I'll start sometime in the future, is even half as beautiful as this one and mine, then I'll count myself lucky.

*touchwood*