And the Word is: F***
Let me say this loud and clear: I'm no swearing person. I don't toss expletives around like frisbees. I don't have to rinse my mouth with profanity-removing wash each night. Yeah, occasionally, I'd let slip something, but that would be considered so bland that even nuns wouldn't really mind. Not to say that I don't know the strong words, but to say that I reserve them, as befits them, for special occasions without diluting their filth.

And yesterday was one such glorious moment. I had to turn in a document, pseudo-HTML saved from Microsoft Word, probably from the Office 2000 family. Because I was working from home, with the ancient 97 MS-Word, I got into such an unparalleled mess with the formatting that the cuss-words came rushing out like bats from a cave trying to frighten the tyro explorer. And at one point Word announced it wanted to show me some hidden characters (which were so hidden that I couldn't see them in the source) and hence changed to some strange gibberish. I'm usually a patient person who believes that any feature in any software can usually be turned off or on: all you need to do is to find the right option or setting. Not this time. And so I sat back and cursed like a Marine released from maun-vrat. I could've landed lead roles in Four Weddings and a Funeral or atleast Platoon, such was the prolific nature of my output. I surprised myself to no end: having always doubted the presence of bad-ass fire in my stomach, this was an unlikely revelation. I spent two hours on the blasted document, needing to send the doc in time to get ready for class. I usually try and substitute the censorious euphemism "blip" but I learnt that on some days, it is best to get the f***ing words out in true expression of what one feels.