What is the difference between ‘misdemeanour’ and ‘misbehaviour’?
First, let’s deal with the pronunciation of ‘misdemeanour’. The first syllable sounds like the word ‘miss’, and the ‘e’ is like the ‘i’ in ‘bit’, ‘hit’, and ‘sit’. The following syllable is pronounced like the word ‘mean’, and the final ‘our’ is like the ‘a’ in ‘china’. The word is pronounced ‘mis-di-MEAN-e with the stress on the third syllable. Both ‘misdemeanour’ and ‘misbehaviour’ can be used to mean ‘bad unacceptable behaviour’; an act which breaks a rule. Of the two, misdemeanour is considered to be formal.
*The young bride wasn’t aware of her husband’s past misdemeanours.
Misdemeanour is also used in the context of law. When you commit a ‘misdemeanour’, you are breaking the law; you are committing a crime which is not very serious. Since the offence is minor, the penalty is usually a fine; sometimes, the person is put in prison for a very short period of time. Petty theft, simple assault, trespass, etc are all examples of misdemeanours. A ‘felony’ is a serious crime.
Monday, 31 August 2009
Sunday, 23 August 2009
vocab for the week 13
What is the meaning and origin of the expression ‘tally ho’?
The expression comes from the cruel world of fox hunting. When a hunter sighted the fleeing fox, he shouted ‘tally ho’; this was supposedly to alert the dogs (hounds) which had been brought along to chase and kill the fox. I understand that ‘tally-ho’ is actually a corruption of the French expression ‘ty-hillaut a qui forheur’: this was shouted by hunters in France when they spotted a deer.
The expression comes from the cruel world of fox hunting. When a hunter sighted the fleeing fox, he shouted ‘tally ho’; this was supposedly to alert the dogs (hounds) which had been brought along to chase and kill the fox. I understand that ‘tally-ho’ is actually a corruption of the French expression ‘ty-hillaut a qui forheur’: this was shouted by hunters in France when they spotted a deer.
Friday, 21 August 2009
My Wishlist : 21.08.2009 till (??)
Following are things (in pure alphabetical order) as on 20.11.2009 I wish to include in my lifetime-some are attainable and some..oh well..keep dreaming! Will update as and when my mind orders me to.. Read On..
01.A book-shelf of original books bearing the date and place of buying each one (the
list is mentioned in my earlier post..got more pirated copies than the originals!)
02.A day in the Deccan Odyssey
03.A stint at Infosys in the HR Department
04.A trip to Australia
05.A trip to Egypt
06.A trip to Greece
07.A trip to the Mediterranean
08.Act in a social skit (like those in my college and school)
09.Adopt a boy or a girl
10.Be a DJ churning my own mix
11.Draw an original cartoon character (excluding myself..huh!)
12.Get a couple of Professional Degrees attached to my name (Got one in June'09 -
BCom! hehehe..working on a couple right now)
13.Get a room designed by me, for me
14.Get my (selected)poems published (and claim royalty as a side-income!)
15. Get a tatoo on my left ankle
16.Have my nails painted with different colour per nail
17.Own a black Enfield
18.Own a black Honda CRV
19.Own a cream Corolla
20.Own a gal-friendly Cycle
21.Own an electricity-powered two-wheeler
22.Paint a couple of t-shirts including a funky one for myself
23.Paint t-shirts for some close to me
24.Re-travel to Kodaikanal
25.Sing at an Indian rock concert
26.Sing with the tallest gal from the band –Viva
27. Teach English subject to Std V at my alma mater, Holy Cross Convent School,Kalyan
28.Throw a stand-up comedian act in front of all my friends
29.Toned arms
30.Write minimum one short story and get it published (the side-income thing is
applicable here too!)
Sunday, 16 August 2009
vocab for the week 12
What is the meaning of the expression ‘ad nauseam’?
Let’s begin by dealing with the pronunciation of this Latin expression. The first word is pronounced like the word ‘add’. The ‘au’ in ‘nauseam’ is like the ‘au’ in ‘caught’, ‘taught’, and ‘naught’, and the following ‘se’ is like the ‘zi’ in ‘zip’ and ‘zinc’. The final syllable is pronounced like the word ‘am’. The expression is pronounced ‘add NAU-zi-am’ with the main stress on the first syllable of ‘nauseam’. When someone talks about something ‘ad nauseam’, he talks about it so much that it becomes extremely boring for the listeners.
*The Minister talked ad nauseam about his achievements.
Let’s begin by dealing with the pronunciation of this Latin expression. The first word is pronounced like the word ‘add’. The ‘au’ in ‘nauseam’ is like the ‘au’ in ‘caught’, ‘taught’, and ‘naught’, and the following ‘se’ is like the ‘zi’ in ‘zip’ and ‘zinc’. The final syllable is pronounced like the word ‘am’. The expression is pronounced ‘add NAU-zi-am’ with the main stress on the first syllable of ‘nauseam’. When someone talks about something ‘ad nauseam’, he talks about it so much that it becomes extremely boring for the listeners.
*The Minister talked ad nauseam about his achievements.
Flags in Drags
So the Independence Day 2009 celebrations are over. The 'privileged' public holiday too got over with the sun setting behind the Tricolour post. Even if you are unaware as to when the day ended, you can make it out effortlessly from the countless mini-Tricolours left stranded on the road. Be it the roads alongside schools, the highways, the lanes..Noticed a torn Tricolour amidst the empty choco-wrappers left behind by school children possibly after the 'celebrations'(who are taught a beautiful subject like Civics), a crumpled one breezing away along the roadside..Makes me feel sick.
I think we,Indians, need a crash course on the good ol' subject-Civics-christened as the maximum marks-getter in the Social Studies basket of subjects in school. Ever imagined how much plastic is wasted and ultimated lands up in the bins on account of manufacture of hundreds of dozens of flags to be flaunted off and eventually dumped twice every year countrywide?? I personally, avoid buying flags since it will be very bad on my part if I lose/damage it. And yeah, my friends too have the same opinion! If the youth can understand such simple things in life, why can't our respected seniors? Why do we buy flags and leave them in drags after the celebration stints on public holidays? Hope you are not among the latter lot.
I think we,Indians, need a crash course on the good ol' subject-Civics-christened as the maximum marks-getter in the Social Studies basket of subjects in school. Ever imagined how much plastic is wasted and ultimated lands up in the bins on account of manufacture of hundreds of dozens of flags to be flaunted off and eventually dumped twice every year countrywide?? I personally, avoid buying flags since it will be very bad on my part if I lose/damage it. And yeah, my friends too have the same opinion! If the youth can understand such simple things in life, why can't our respected seniors? Why do we buy flags and leave them in drags after the celebration stints on public holidays? Hope you are not among the latter lot.
Monday, 10 August 2009
Of so-called Citizens of India
Friday,Aug 7 '09
Was in a super-crowded train towards my articleship and silently watched a gentleman in the first class throwing the 'holy' withered flowers off the bridge in the already-filthy creek below.
Was in a not-so-crowded train towards home after articleship and silently watched a teenager putting the wrapper of a delicious choco-bar (it looked delicious at least) into her bag.
Saturday, Aug 8 '09
Was walking down the stairs at Kalyan station and silently watched the cleaner toiling to rub the harsh red stains on the same.
Was in an auto towards my home from station and silently watched a red-mouthed man painting the muddy road red in 5 seconds.
Four not-so-important scenes but sufficient enough to raise my temper which doesn't shoot up in seconds like it did four times in two days back to back. You too might have come across such scenes daily-me too experienced the same but made a point to post today!
Four such people-the so-called citizens of a sovereign,socialist,secular,democratic republic State. Well, I don't mean that people who keep roads clean are true citizens! Just wanna emphasize on the point that why people don't practice what they preach? And still 'claim' to be responsible citizens by inking their finger after every five years! The teenager (who might not have had her finger inked anytime) was the only one who practiced what was preached to her. These small daily acts, if piled up, can easily determine whether a person is really an 'educated' one in the true sense of the term. Education..aah..one of the most abused words of today which is equivalent to a renowned degree and a fat source of income. In fact, its one of the best words of the ambiguous Queen's language (and mine too!). Kindly refer the link below if you disagree : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Education
Coming back to Citizens, I strongly believe if each one of us mend our own ways and act in true civic sense, jobs of clean-up drives, health-is-wealth campaigns etc. will be left only for a handful. Who,anyways,likes to clean up others' dirt like the cleaner at Kalyan station?! I am sure the respectable people I mentioned stick to their good manners at their respective homes. Am clueless as to what happens to their mannerisms in seconds after stepping out of their dens! Ridiculous. Time for them to go back to their basics, I say.
Was in a super-crowded train towards my articleship and silently watched a gentleman in the first class throwing the 'holy' withered flowers off the bridge in the already-filthy creek below.
Was in a not-so-crowded train towards home after articleship and silently watched a teenager putting the wrapper of a delicious choco-bar (it looked delicious at least) into her bag.
Saturday, Aug 8 '09
Was walking down the stairs at Kalyan station and silently watched the cleaner toiling to rub the harsh red stains on the same.
Was in an auto towards my home from station and silently watched a red-mouthed man painting the muddy road red in 5 seconds.
Four not-so-important scenes but sufficient enough to raise my temper which doesn't shoot up in seconds like it did four times in two days back to back. You too might have come across such scenes daily-me too experienced the same but made a point to post today!
Four such people-the so-called citizens of a sovereign,socialist,secular,democratic republic State. Well, I don't mean that people who keep roads clean are true citizens! Just wanna emphasize on the point that why people don't practice what they preach? And still 'claim' to be responsible citizens by inking their finger after every five years! The teenager (who might not have had her finger inked anytime) was the only one who practiced what was preached to her. These small daily acts, if piled up, can easily determine whether a person is really an 'educated' one in the true sense of the term. Education..aah..one of the most abused words of today which is equivalent to a renowned degree and a fat source of income. In fact, its one of the best words of the ambiguous Queen's language (and mine too!). Kindly refer the link below if you disagree : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Education
Coming back to Citizens, I strongly believe if each one of us mend our own ways and act in true civic sense, jobs of clean-up drives, health-is-wealth campaigns etc. will be left only for a handful. Who,anyways,likes to clean up others' dirt like the cleaner at Kalyan station?! I am sure the respectable people I mentioned stick to their good manners at their respective homes. Am clueless as to what happens to their mannerisms in seconds after stepping out of their dens! Ridiculous. Time for them to go back to their basics, I say.
The wise tigress and a silly fool with a gun
Following is a short story that appeared in the tiger special page of The Sunday TOI dated 09.08.09 by one Bulbul Sharma who is artist, author and teaches children with special needs. Simple yet worthy to ponder upon..
They call me Rani which I think is a silly name since I have no royal blood in me but I cannot do anything about it. Men have their own odd ways
and ever since they came to live on earth with us we have had to go along with them to survive. Sometimes we lash out, like my old uncle Sher Khan who turned maneater in his old age. His teeth always gave him trouble after that and his skin began to smell really awful. But he was a rare case. For thousands of years we have hunted our four- legged prey in the grassy meadows and never looked at man as our next meal.
He was frightened of us even when he lived in a cave and hunted with sharp-edged stones. They say he drew pictures of my ancestors on his cave walls so that he could trap their spirits to enable him to hunt them easily in real life. He loved our skin even then and wore our teeth around his neck. Silly fool.
Later when he grew a little wiser, he started worshipping us and wrote many songs about our great strength and cunning. He stamped our heads on seals and even carved our figures in clay. Later when he built temples he made us stand like guards at the gate and then we all felt so proud when the Goddess Durga chose one of us as her ‘vahan’. Even to this day, you can see her fierce and beautiful form riding a tiger as she slays the buffalo-demon. Though sometimes I see our cousin the Lion with her and then I feel quite upset. We have always been the rulers of the forest and every animal fears us, except the elephant.
Men have written many clever stories about our valour in the Jataka and Panchatantra tales though some of them mock us and make the tiny mouse braver than the mighty tiger. I never let that bother me and always teach my cubs that men have a weird sense of humour and fun. They are the only people on this earth that kill other animals not for food but for their amusement.
At first we hunted quite openly since man was not running on wheels and hunting with a gun but later we had to learn to stay hidden in the shadows of the tall grass. Our fur with its cleverly designed black uneven stripes merged in the landscape and we could not be seen even when man came quite close to us. We could smell him but had to stay very still because he now had many clever gadgets with which he could track us down and shoot us. Why he hates us so much I have never understood.
It was not always so. There was a great ruler called Asoka many centuries ago and he wrote on stone that we should not be harmed. People obeyed his rules and left us alone to live happily in our forests. The forests those days were rich and dense, filled with food for not only us but every other living creature. The tribal people who lived here sang many wonderful songs about us and painted our forms on their mud huts.
“Men were born innocent but got more and more clever for their own good,” my great-great grand mother used to say every time she saw one of our clan shot dead. She remembered her grandfather being hunted by an emperor who came on an elephant all decked up with golden headgear and a huge velvet umbrella. There were a hundred men with him carrying spears and what a great noise they made with their bugles and drums. They tied a poor deer to a tree and waited. My ancestor was warned not to go near the deer but he was hungry and could not resist. They said that he was not the only one they killed that day. The emperor’s elephants carried home more than a hundred dead tigers as they marched through the forest. The palace floor was soon lined with my ancestors’ skins. Later they made many beautiful paintings of this great hunt; though they say my late ancestor looks very handsome as he fought to death, I do not want to see these paintings.
When my cubs ask me why do men like our skin so much I really have no answer. I would never drape a dead man’s hide in my den. It would give me nightmares.
Man continued to kill us but now he did not paint our handsome figures. He just came in large groups and shot us all down from a ‘machan’. His skin was white in colour and he wore a strange-looking hat. Now for the first time even the female of the species began to shoot us and then posed for a photograph with her feet on our dead body. Did she not have cubs of her own?
Gradually the songs about us became less and less as we grew fewer in number. I think we would have all died out like our cousin the Cheetah who once hunted not very far from us. But then a miracle happened. Man decided we should live. He now considered us important not only for the forest but his own survival.
Hah! That is a poor joke. But I told you man has a strange mind. Imagine hunting us down for hundreds of years and then suddenly turning around and saying. “We must stop all this killing. Not good. Not good for us at all.” But do not think for a moment I am complaining. This is, indeed, a miracle. The gods of the forest have smiled on us once again after so many centuries. The paintings on caves, the songs , the rules written on stone to protect us may have all vanished but now we have some sort of protection once again. Man has made rules that we should not be hunted. It does not work all the time since man’s greed for our skin and bones has not changed but I do believe my cubs have a fair chance to live.
I lie here in the forest waiting for the men to shoot me. No, they are not going to kill me. They just want to take a photograph of me and my cubs. I do not like them coming too near my cubs and give a low growl, baring my teeth. How it thrills them! I told you they had a weird sense of fun. So I stretch, give them a big yawn, showing all my teeth ,even the broken one at the back, and send them home happy.
(Hope you enjoyed reading the above like I did! Really a good one.)
They call me Rani which I think is a silly name since I have no royal blood in me but I cannot do anything about it. Men have their own odd ways
and ever since they came to live on earth with us we have had to go along with them to survive. Sometimes we lash out, like my old uncle Sher Khan who turned maneater in his old age. His teeth always gave him trouble after that and his skin began to smell really awful. But he was a rare case. For thousands of years we have hunted our four- legged prey in the grassy meadows and never looked at man as our next meal.
He was frightened of us even when he lived in a cave and hunted with sharp-edged stones. They say he drew pictures of my ancestors on his cave walls so that he could trap their spirits to enable him to hunt them easily in real life. He loved our skin even then and wore our teeth around his neck. Silly fool.
Later when he grew a little wiser, he started worshipping us and wrote many songs about our great strength and cunning. He stamped our heads on seals and even carved our figures in clay. Later when he built temples he made us stand like guards at the gate and then we all felt so proud when the Goddess Durga chose one of us as her ‘vahan’. Even to this day, you can see her fierce and beautiful form riding a tiger as she slays the buffalo-demon. Though sometimes I see our cousin the Lion with her and then I feel quite upset. We have always been the rulers of the forest and every animal fears us, except the elephant.
Men have written many clever stories about our valour in the Jataka and Panchatantra tales though some of them mock us and make the tiny mouse braver than the mighty tiger. I never let that bother me and always teach my cubs that men have a weird sense of humour and fun. They are the only people on this earth that kill other animals not for food but for their amusement.
At first we hunted quite openly since man was not running on wheels and hunting with a gun but later we had to learn to stay hidden in the shadows of the tall grass. Our fur with its cleverly designed black uneven stripes merged in the landscape and we could not be seen even when man came quite close to us. We could smell him but had to stay very still because he now had many clever gadgets with which he could track us down and shoot us. Why he hates us so much I have never understood.
It was not always so. There was a great ruler called Asoka many centuries ago and he wrote on stone that we should not be harmed. People obeyed his rules and left us alone to live happily in our forests. The forests those days were rich and dense, filled with food for not only us but every other living creature. The tribal people who lived here sang many wonderful songs about us and painted our forms on their mud huts.
“Men were born innocent but got more and more clever for their own good,” my great-great grand mother used to say every time she saw one of our clan shot dead. She remembered her grandfather being hunted by an emperor who came on an elephant all decked up with golden headgear and a huge velvet umbrella. There were a hundred men with him carrying spears and what a great noise they made with their bugles and drums. They tied a poor deer to a tree and waited. My ancestor was warned not to go near the deer but he was hungry and could not resist. They said that he was not the only one they killed that day. The emperor’s elephants carried home more than a hundred dead tigers as they marched through the forest. The palace floor was soon lined with my ancestors’ skins. Later they made many beautiful paintings of this great hunt; though they say my late ancestor looks very handsome as he fought to death, I do not want to see these paintings.
When my cubs ask me why do men like our skin so much I really have no answer. I would never drape a dead man’s hide in my den. It would give me nightmares.
Man continued to kill us but now he did not paint our handsome figures. He just came in large groups and shot us all down from a ‘machan’. His skin was white in colour and he wore a strange-looking hat. Now for the first time even the female of the species began to shoot us and then posed for a photograph with her feet on our dead body. Did she not have cubs of her own?
Gradually the songs about us became less and less as we grew fewer in number. I think we would have all died out like our cousin the Cheetah who once hunted not very far from us. But then a miracle happened. Man decided we should live. He now considered us important not only for the forest but his own survival.
Hah! That is a poor joke. But I told you man has a strange mind. Imagine hunting us down for hundreds of years and then suddenly turning around and saying. “We must stop all this killing. Not good. Not good for us at all.” But do not think for a moment I am complaining. This is, indeed, a miracle. The gods of the forest have smiled on us once again after so many centuries. The paintings on caves, the songs , the rules written on stone to protect us may have all vanished but now we have some sort of protection once again. Man has made rules that we should not be hunted. It does not work all the time since man’s greed for our skin and bones has not changed but I do believe my cubs have a fair chance to live.
I lie here in the forest waiting for the men to shoot me. No, they are not going to kill me. They just want to take a photograph of me and my cubs. I do not like them coming too near my cubs and give a low growl, baring my teeth. How it thrills them! I told you they had a weird sense of fun. So I stretch, give them a big yawn, showing all my teeth ,even the broken one at the back, and send them home happy.
(Hope you enjoyed reading the above like I did! Really a good one.)
Sunday, 9 August 2009
vocab for the week 11
How is the word ‘besiege’ pronounced?
The ‘e’ in the first syllable sounds like the ‘i’ in ‘it’, ‘bit’, and ‘sit’, and the following ‘ie’ sounds like the ‘ee’ in ‘fees’, and ‘cheese’. The final ‘ge’ is like the ‘j’ in ‘jam’, and ‘jump’. The word is pronounced ‘bi-SEEJ’ with the stress on the second syllable.
The word has several meanings. When soldiers, for example, besiege a town, they surround it. They prevent people and supplies from entering or leaving the town. When a person is besieged, he is surrounded by other people.
The moment he walked out of the stadium, he was besieged by reporters.
The word can also be used to mean, ‘to make many requests or complaints about something.’
The radio station was besieged with telephone calls from angry women.
The ‘e’ in the first syllable sounds like the ‘i’ in ‘it’, ‘bit’, and ‘sit’, and the following ‘ie’ sounds like the ‘ee’ in ‘fees’, and ‘cheese’. The final ‘ge’ is like the ‘j’ in ‘jam’, and ‘jump’. The word is pronounced ‘bi-SEEJ’ with the stress on the second syllable.
The word has several meanings. When soldiers, for example, besiege a town, they surround it. They prevent people and supplies from entering or leaving the town. When a person is besieged, he is surrounded by other people.
The moment he walked out of the stadium, he was besieged by reporters.
The word can also be used to mean, ‘to make many requests or complaints about something.’
The radio station was besieged with telephone calls from angry women.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
The Makeover
Well I didn't find any 'good' template for my blog for a month after the good ol' grey one I had. But at last! I fell in love with the 'scribe' template created by one Mr. Todd(thankoo!) Its got an archaic feel, remember those dull light brown scrolls of pages of the middle ages?? The template has that kind of feel to it. And I liked it too!
Hey Bhagwan!
Hope u've heard of The Raghu Dixit Project. Raghu Dixit's self-titled album got released in '08 and the following song is one of his hits. Hooked to the same since a couple of days..the music is typical Indian rock with a ting of violin. Raghu is one of those singers who can shout and sing gracefully. Simple yet meaningful..Enjoy! And don't forget to catch its video.
yeh choti si hai jindagi x2
usse chota ek sapna
yeh choti si hai jindagi
usse chota ek sapna
ek baar is dharti pe,
dekh loon khuda apna..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
raat ke andhere mein x2
mujhe jo ujala de
jab thak jaaon toh apni
god ka sahara de
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
aaj bhi tu dekhta hoga x2
kahi dur satwan aasman
aaj bhi tu dekhta hoga
kahi dur satwan aasman
ho.. kaise khoya ja raha hai
apne aap mein insaan
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey dil ko sambhaloon kaise x2
tanhaayi mein doobi raat hai
hey dil ko sambhaloon kaise
tanhaayi mein doobi raat hai
akele ho toh kya hua re x3
uska jo sahara hai
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
yeh choti si hai jindagi x2
usse chota ek sapna
yeh choti si hai jindagi
usse chota ek sapna
ek baar is dharti pe,
dekh loon khuda apna..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
raat ke andhere mein x2
mujhe jo ujala de
jab thak jaaon toh apni
god ka sahara de
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
aaj bhi tu dekhta hoga x2
kahi dur satwan aasman
aaj bhi tu dekhta hoga
kahi dur satwan aasman
ho.. kaise khoya ja raha hai
apne aap mein insaan
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey dil ko sambhaloon kaise x2
tanhaayi mein doobi raat hai
hey dil ko sambhaloon kaise
tanhaayi mein doobi raat hai
akele ho toh kya hua re x3
uska jo sahara hai
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
hey bhagwan mujhko tuh
jindagi dubara de..
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