(P)ASSWORDS

Considering the number of passwords I struggle to remember, it’s a wonder that the three odd grey strands of hair on my recently-turned 29 year-old crop of hair, haven’t multiplied by now.

And since I haven’t started colouring them, I can’t even attribute them to some ‘because-you’re-worth-it’ snooty hair colour brand that so many whom I know, are patrons of.

Of course, there are those who never forget any password, and wrinkle up their noses in disdain at me. This article is clearly not for those condescending sorts. But for people like me for whom wading through several passwords is nothing short of a miracle- almost like an inept child trying to swim the Atlantic, that useful link on most webpages – ‘Forgot your password? Click here,’ is a Godsend.

For how else are you supposed to commit to memory at least 30-40 passwords, some alpha-numeric, some in capitals, and some with both upper and lower case. And just when you think you have finally stored your office PC’s password, Bang! It’s time for you to change it.

There are cute little utilities like the Apple Keychain, which saves all your passwords, leaving you free to remember other details of your life. But I do not own a Mac, and will therefore just pause to do the customary shaking-head-in-pity-for-myself schedule.

(Pause)

And now, since the above is also out of the way, the time is now right for me to give you a better idea of how my life is one long swim through passwords.

Giving you an idea of the various areas where I have to wade through. Sample the following areas where I need to remember my ‘unique’ password:

1) Blog password
2) Email account
3) Official email account
4) Internet Banking account (The more accounts, the better? Says who?)
5) Internet broadband password
6) Internet bill password
7) PC password
8) Laptop password
9) Social networking password
10) Blog password
11) Cellfone bill password
12) Cellfone password
13) Credit / Debitcard password
14) Online shopping password
15) Photo editing password
16) Job portals passwords
17) Insurance password
18) Railway booking password
19) Airlines and hotel booking website password
20) NGOs passwords
21) IT returns password
22) Electricity bill password
23) Business Networking password
24) Online cakes and florist website password
25) Clustrmaps password
26) Movie booking site password
27) Onlne book purchasing store password
28) Onlne survey conducting tool password
29) Pet password (yes, believe it or not, our labrador has a membership to a social networking site too)
30) CISCO Phone login password
31) College alumni password
32) Wikipeda editing password

....And the list goes on.....

Too bad Arnold’s ‘Total Recall’ never figured in my lists of favorites.

Not upto 'Scratch'...

Agreed that there is probably no better pleasure in scratching that part of your body which is itching like crazy (next perhaps only to releasing your full bladder).

Which probably explains why so many people can be seen holding a magazine over their ahem…and getting down to business. You also have the ones who refuse to take ‘refuge’ behind the pages of some glossy, and scratch furiously in full sight of everyone who chances to look their way. And by the time you get that much-perfected disdainful expression on your face, you see that after their Michael Jackson crotch-holding impersonation, they bring up their fingers to sniff at them, or worse – delve into a frankfurter.

Of course we all suffer from the – ‘Have-an-itch-will-scratch’ syndrome. The degree and subtlety of the action differs from person to person. It would be a generalisation to say that all men do it (I have seen enough women scratching their cameltoes in my life).

But there are those who scratch as f there’s no tomorrow. If you were to hand them a back loofah, they would probably cast you a look of pure venom, and proceed to do the deed with their claws / nails / talons – what you will. The sound is agonizingly annoying.

It’s not like chalk scratching upon the classroom blackboard.

It’s not like the sound when a DJ moves a vinyl record back and forth over a turntable.

It’s not even faintly like the sound which a hooligan makes while scratching someone’s car by taking a key around it.

It’s not like the scratching sound made by a mongrel who is offering from an acute case of ticks / lice.

It’s not even like the sound made by the 10-year old girl scratching her head, and making the dry skin / dandruff fall off in flakes.

Neither is it like the scratching sound which you make while you are hurriedly jotting the number of the insurance agent.

It’s not like the sound made by your filer over your nails in a D-I-Y session.

It’s not like the sound when you push the brake pedal all the way down.

It’s worse!

Scratch-scratch-scratch-scratch – they go vigorously! Making you cringe, and almost making your hands go up by themselves to cup your ears.

Agreed we descended from apes – must we ape them so in this regard too?

Then perhaps, we should also go Ga-Ga over bananas, swing from branches, and bare our teeth at the very thought of shinning an orange tree...?

Ba(n)g On!

Why women need bags (and big ones at that) is beyond the comprehension of most men.
I don’t blame them for their unawareness - simple, uncomplicated people that they are.

On a typical day, your average guy leaves with three things – his wallet, phone and keys. And maybe a handkerchief. That's all they need, and they cant go wrong with them.

Women on the other hand, need their emergency survival gear. So besides the customary wallets-phone-keys-pens-gloss-kohl-fume-sunglasses-keys-tissues-tampons, a lot of other items also make their way merrily into those bags.

Like dogs for instance. Blonde heiresses place their pocket dogs into their plush croc-leather bags, and sway happily into their much-frequented swish malls.

Bags are the first thing one reaches out when one is in dire need of a tissue and feels the urge to cry / sneeze / cough / dissolve into guffaws.

Of course, the constantly-replenished contents of the bag have other uses too...

Sample these...

Loverboy feeling hungry? Out come a half-nibbled bar of chocolate, some chewies, a pack of spearmint, an energy snack, and a couple of toffees.

Need to get yourself clicked for an ID at work? – Just reach out for your bag – those Polaroid pics are literally begging to be taken out.

Sister’s hands look like a dry and bumpy road in a desert? – help is at hand – just hand her that tube of silky-soft hand lotion to squeeze out and smoothen on.

Cousin’s throat feeling scratched? Lozenges appear as if by magic, in both the flavours he likes.

Body feeling feverish? The strip of paracetamol is handy.

Colleague’s got a chipped nail – hand over the filer to an eternally-grateful her (and be rest assured that next time you need some help with the goddamned presentation you are trying to create, she is sure to ‘chip in.’)

Best friend had a chicken nugget too many? The satchet of Alka-Seltzer is waved cheerily into his / her face.

College mate needs to jot down the digits of the gorgeous stranger at the party? And is scribbling them on the palm of his hand? – Sheeesh! Hand the joker those yellow sticky pads instead.

Stalker following you yet again? The hammer and the rolling pin could do with some airing (and use)(ok ok – I admit, I got carried away)…

Of course, there are those occasions when I consider my bag to be some dark abyss which constantly keeps swallowing the contents. What else can explain the zillion pens, nail filers, clips, lipsticks and miniature perfumes that have gone into it, and vanished nto the cosmos from it?

Nonetheless – the oversized, spilling-its-contents-bag does have its fair share of benefits (and loyalists). And I, the die-hard advocate that I am, cannot for the life of me comprehend how women can make-do with teeny-weeny ones. Totally beats me, that one!

And yet, I still have some who shake their heads disbelievingly when they look at my Mary Poppins bag. They nudge each other, point, tut-tut, click their tongues, roll their eyes, and ask me if thet should expect a genie to jump out of it any minute…

High time I started showing them all those heads I've chopped off and collected...