Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Gritty nitty

DefinAtely, I don't think so there are any doubts. You can be rest assured. But I'll check and revert back to you anyway.

argggggggh

Am I a nitpicker or does this kind of talk turn you into a raving lunatic also? Grammar Nazi? Spelling Nazi? Yeah, whatever, I don't really care for labels. It just completely puts me off how people will not try and use a language the way they should. Not just English - any language. To add insult to injury they'll also tell you how it is only a medium of communication. Not that I'm perfect or anywhere near it even. I lose sleep when I trip up and express myself clumsily. It happens pretty often, but I think the fact that it embarrasses me is redemption enough.

I remember Dad getting terribly annoyed by my teenage habit of ending every other sentence with 'or something'. He'd grunt "Decide what you want to say and don't be vague!" He also hated my using the word "shit" and would ask me what relevance "shit" could possibly have in any decent conversation unless ofcourse we were discussing medicine or manure. Thank God the F word wasn't popular back then. I think he tried to teach me to respect languages and that I tried learning. He only spoke when necessary and then, only what was necessary . He wasn't given to flowery confusing speech but he used his words well. Effortlessly measured and neat, his sentences made sense. I guess that gene didn't really reach me. I have to try and again, my consolation is that I do.

Till very recently I hadn't learnt to count to ten and hold my peace. The fallout of this open nitpicking was that many people avoided speaking to me or in front of me even. They nodded, smiled and fled, afraid to say hello - just in case I picked on their accent or something. As a result I still have very few friends that actually speak to me, but the good part is that I am spared a lot of agony. But can you avoid family? I remember how I almost passed out when my 3 1/2 year old announced very proudly at her friend's birthday party with around 15 mothers and 20 kids in attendance and paying complete attention that she'd "died a mosquito". Then I kicked myself because she was so very little and giggled "So cute, she means killed..". I guess that was probably dad's way of reverting back to me..or something.

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