We all have our idisyncrasies, some as a phase, some incurable. They are typically us, some funny, others exasperatingly funny, all worth a laugh nontheless. I was tagged to list mine. Initially, I drew a blank. But then I started noting down and there was no stopping then.
Ok... Here goes:

I have a subconscious affinity to panic – I’m supposed to list down weird traits, but I know this one sounds too weird to be even regular weird, but a bunch will actually vouch for me. A certain person has all cards and gifts actually addressed to one ‘chintamani’ (no prizes for guessing who she meant). I actually panicked and went oh s*** and had a near seizure when there were results out for a paper I hadn’t written because I had a ten on ten average!

I have never retained a single umbrella I have bought to date. I make up my mind each time – not to stop losing them (see, that cannot happen, I’ve tried everything under the sun to stop this habit, it may actually work for other stuff but when it comes to umbrellas, I don’t know, all the effort just draws a blank!) but to stop buying them. I can’t stop that either. The count so far – 4 in the year I’ve lived in Bangalore!

I always end up sleeping till the last stop in my company bus, only to have the driver ask me where the hell I wanted to go in the first place. Ergo, some actually don’t ask me anymore.

I can never get left/right correct at the first go, ever. I have to go wrong the first time. I’m in an auto and the guy asks which way - I am never right as a rule. This has caused some amusing, many not so amusing incidents with autowallahs (esp. in Bangalore see, the guys certainly don’t have patience as one of their very few virtues).

I hate pop/mush/hip hop/boy bands/girl bands as a rule (I think rock is musical).

I never remember names of people I do not meet on a regular basis. This has caused many embarrassing conversations. One sample:

I met one at Jaynagar. I could place the face as some sample from college but nothing beyond that.
She: Hey hi! How are you?
Me (unsure): Hi, I’m fine. (Full stop. Another one of my traits that really really puzzles me. I have absolutely no capacity for small talk. I cannot exchange pleasantries, they just seem too superficial. If I’d said I’m miserable, I flunked my test today, I’ve got zilch on my bank account and there are 8 days before the month ends, I have a lousy cold, I had a bad spat with my boss – how is someone asking me going to help anything! For God’s sake. I try though. Sometimes I remind myself to ask ‘and how are you?’ but in surprise situations I am myself. Meaning rude.)
She: So what have you been up too? (Sheesh! Is there a template?)
Five minutes (in which she mostly conducted the interview and I gave monosyllabic replies) later:
She: So, stay in touch (why on earth!).
Me: Sure. (Note: I never bothered to ask how? I didn’t even know the specimen’s name! But she did. So she pulled out her cell and diligently typed my name. Then she asked me my number, frankly I wanted to leave, I hurriedly spelled it for her and was about to leave. But she interrupted.)
She: Note down my number. (Aha! Clever girl, she is. Didn’t leave much choice for me, did she. I half heartedly took out my cell. Now, ahem.. I had no clue what to do next! And there she was, looking at me expectantly; ready to tell me her number. There was no way I would do anything but ask, look, I don’t know who the hell you are, so before I call you, tell me your name so that I know who I am calling. I was furiously racking my brains, I remembered the name of the roly-poly thing she hung around with back in college – a miracle by any standard, I don’t know how I accomplished that – but not hers. Suddenly it struck me - :-) )
Me: Give me a missed call, just to make sure you too have got it right da (aha).
She: Ya, sure.
The number appeared, sure enough, and I put it in my phone box, sure enough.
Name: *****. Literally.

My recurring nightmare is that I reach the exam hall and people are getting ready to leave.

All my photographs till the age of 3 have me sticking my tongue out or crying. (Apparently, my mom saw a snake when she was carrying; giving her the fright of her life and that explains the first habit. My ajji’s story. And I actually believed that photograph is what I would become if they clicked the camera in front of me! Which explains the crying. There is one family photograph taken when I was 2, where everyone else is in peals of laughter and me at the center, crying like it was Armageddon!)

I actually believed that ‘foreign’ was a place till I was 5.

I accidentally put a rajma grain in my nose and that blocked my wind pipe, had another brat (are you listening bhai?) put amrutanjan in my eyes and was stung by a scorpion thrice by the time I was 3. In short I kept our family doctor very busy.

I stand to relax – that’s my comfortable position as sitting is to others.

That’s it, I think I had better stop. The weird list is comprehensive enough.