my space...

Happy Birthday Princess ! :)

2012-02-08T05:51:00.000-08:00

Pechun .. pechi .. gudun… Chunkuda … Chingudi .. I have lost count of the various endearments u answer to . What I haven`t lost count of is that you complete 21 years of your life in a few hours from now. Overwhelmed mightily. Protective certainly. Possessive .. but not overtly so. Glad. Worried. Proud. Enormously overcome with love. The emotions do not seem to follow any trend. But they have been piling up within since last night. Watched on T.V. a certain fat-lipped female actor sashay down the red carpet in a powder blue satin gown. I, being me , should’ve made a mental note of how awful/beautiful the colour looked on her. Instead, the brain does a lightning fast memory jolt and replays the memories of a 3-year old you, who had put on a powder-blue and white satin frock of mine. Was probably one of your annual trips to Bhubaneswar as a snooty Bombay kid. You refused to speak in Oriya, were this plump little thing who had the most weird sitting posture, kept asking ‘Mummy hum Orissa kab jayenge’ sitting right there in BBSR and wore all my nice ‘bahar-wala’ frocks which I`d have outgrown but not-fallen-out-of-love with. Mummy and Daddy would pamper you to no end. Maeen and Mamu would fuss around you and Appa (being Appa :P) wanted to hug you and hold you all the time. I did not like you at all. Period. All those people who made up my world had moved on to hovering around you, much to my annoyance. I was so mighty pissed with you. I think I might have punched your favourite stuffed toy black-n-blue. :P

But then you used to go away and Appa and I would smell your used oil-massage cloth (we used to beg Maeen for one :P) for days afterwards and wail ‘Chunky ki yaad aa rai hai’. I was confused whether to like you ‘cause you were my little sister and I was ‘supposed to louuve you and take care of you’ , or whether to continue being jealous and dislike you for dethroning me from the ‘youngest-in-the-family-hence-needs-to-be-pampered-silly’ position. Then one day you came home looking proudly smug and beaming and announced ‘Pata hai abhi main STANDARD ONE mein hoon …standard one’. I think that was the day I knew I had no option but to love this little imp who thinks she is all grown-up coz she`s in ‘standard 1’ :P. But, along with the love started the worrying and occasional anger as well. Anger, ‘cause we always seemed to like the same things – the same toy, the same chocolate, the same actor, the same dress, that one lap of Dad`s :P (our moms were worried that we would wanna get married to the same guy :P). The worrying ‘cause I thought you were growing up to be a stubborn, short-tempered my-way-or-highway kid. The former was nicely managed – we got 2 sets of toys and chocolates and every dress was made into 3 sizes - for you , me and appa and poor Dad had no option but to seat us on each leg during those long Orissa-bhraman tours. The latter alongwith my childish assumption that single-kids-turn-into-spoilt-brats, was what worried me constantly. What I had failed to notice, was how you shared every chocolate with everyone, irrespective of age, in the family, how your 10-year old self baby-sat every infant perfectly, how you firmly reprimanded Dad when he and Mom would be having the most ridiculous of fights.

Somewhere along the way we stopped squabbling and became a package deal. It was an understood fact that you would tag along with me , when I went over to my friends place or for swimming classes or for any functions or shows. We became partners-in-crime who had an inexplicable fetish for tasting anything from wild-berries to pickle to cerelac to pepperminty toothpaste. I would hear you giggling under the duvet , when I made those discreet late-night calls while I was flitting in and out of relationships, and would wink back at you knowing that all my wicked secrets were safe with you. You in turn would fill me in about all the puppy-love abounding at your school. I would wake up to your feverish mugging-up of Sanskrit vocab. And would silently mumble a prayer “God, please give her all those marks she wants, so she could snuggle in with me inside the comfy quilt and not need to go for tuitions for this ancient language. Who speaks it any which ways ??”. I loved it when you would hug me tight in your sleep, blissfully unaware that you might wake up next to a strangled/asphyxiated body the next morning ! No holiday or trip used to be complete without having you around.

You amazed me with the focus you had on academics, with your love for numbers and Mathematics, your disdain for meaningless rules and rituals but above all with your maturity. I could breathe easy if you were aware of the person I was dating. It was as if I was seeking acceptance from someone in the family and who better(or convenient :P) than you. It did worry me when there was this phase when you thought I could do no wrong. I`m way more comfortable now, when you`re aware of all my follies and misgivings.

I remember having this weird feeling when you went away to Dubai. I was worried sick. You were my little baby , leading a protected sheltered life back home. How could you fly the nest, a mere 16-year old! My maternal instincts went into overdrive. I`d never imagined that you would adjust so beautifully to Hostel life in an alien country that too. I was worried that you might fall into bad company or get involved with some hopeless guy. Probably part of me was praying that you don’t turn out to be as vulnerable as I was when I left home for the first time. I wanted those four years to be the best years of your life. You amazed me yet again when you chose the nicest people as your friends (the dance performance by your friends on your first birthday at the Hostel was probably the sweetest thing ever! God Bless them all). Was I glad or what, when you made it clear that you don’t have the time or inclination for casual flings or loser boyfriends. Wish I was that wise at that age!

Before I committed myself to Saby, it was important for me that you both shouldn`t just be comfortable with each but like each other genuinely as well and you did ; so beautifully at that - I couldn`t be happier ! Then came my wedding and you made me proud like never before. The way you went around looking into every minute detail of every arrangement, the way you organized the sangeet, the way you took care of the guests, the way you ensured everyone has their plates full during the feast – I was misty-eyed during the ceremony looking at you all grown up and beautiful, running errands ever so gracefully in a saree. You made me proud, so very proud ! I knew at that time, that you had grown up – grown up into this responsible, caring and delightful little girl who has her mind and feet firmly in place.

Now you have physically moved farther away from me and all of us, but surprisingly I`m not too worried. Protective surely, but very little of the anxiety or worry remains. I`m so glad that you have proved my childhood self so wrong and are nothing like the stubborn , spoilt brat that I had imagined you would grow up to be. You are this beautifully balanced person today who could teach all of us a lesson or two on life. Wonderfully uncomplicated, values in place, humble and responsible to the T and the funnest person to have around. All I wish and pray for is that, you live a full and happy life wherever you are and get to share this life with someone nice and fun who`d treat you like his princess and make you smile when the going gets tough once in a while. Wish life gives us more than just an annual holiday week to spend together, ‘cause I miss you … in more ways than words can explain. You will always remain my soul-sister, my friend, my trusty confidante and my baby – who sleepily opened her eyes and clenched tight the finger of a five year old me and went back to sleep again nestled against my lap ….
See ! you taught me what falling in love was all about … :)

:)

2011-05-06T13:16:00.000-07:00

Was spring-cleaning my old hard-disk drive off the pile of b-school assignments overload, to make some space for movies...and look what I found scribbled in on a notepad file...

"I might keep nagging about how u`ve changed ... how things aren`t the way they were in carefree penniless days of books and bliss ...
But I know it is my boy .. when the bike goes for a skid and fall, right in the middle of crazy traffic, and the first thing you do is turn around and hold a stunned me and check me out for bruises .. your voice breaking with worry ...

And there .... amidst all the honking and screeching and petrol dripping out from our beloved bike lying twisted on the road ...

.. I fall in love with you all over again ...."

This was written way back in late 2007, I guess...
I look at the sprawled form lying beside me in deep slumber ... Can`t help but smile .. Have we have come a long way or what !!

Tadaaaa.. Time for me to snuggle up next to my boy :)

Train to Hyderabad

2011-02-11T11:36:00.000-08:00

2nd February 2011, 8:20 PM.
The Rajdhani Express chugs off dot on time. One of the few things that get a smile on ur face - Trains running on time. Hubby and I are on our way o Hyderabad to attend our first Maru-Jain wedding, that of a dear friend. The first wedding we are attending after ours (more about my wedding in a later post). Our suitacases are stuffed with blingy ethnic wear which were carefully chosen a few months ago for our own wedding trousseau. Alongwith the whole wedding excitement and the prospect of meeting old common friends, we are actually pretty kicked up about travelling by the Rajdhani. It brings back childhood memories of LTC family vacations way back in the early 90's. All the bank and Central govt. kids would be well aware of the once in 4 years, much-awaited, all-expense-paid-by-Govt./Bank family vacation.

Wish all the trains that run in India are converted into Rajdhanis or Shatabdis overnight! Just last week as I bade goodbye to my in-laws aboard the Guwahati Express - I couldnt feel more guilty. At MIL`s insistence we gave in to their request of travelling by train from this end of the country to the north-east - full 3 days by rail. She tried convincing us about how boring air travel is where you can 't chit-chat/gossip with other co-passengers, can`t see the 'scenery', no new friendships are struck and so on and so forth. After countless discussions on this topic we finally conceded defeat and let her have her way. Wish we knew what awaited us..
Despite having booked AC 2 tier berths, the compartment let out a foul smell even while we were a coupla meters away from boarding the train. On entering the compartment we were initially confused if we had entered a general or sleeper coach by mistake. The interiors smelt of pee and poo (adult poo that too :S ). The curtains smelt equally bad. The berths creaked at their hinges and the bedsheets and blankets provided were very visibly moth-ravaged. As I hugged her tight my eyes welled up. Don`t know what I was feeling worse about - About me going to miss her or about me subjecting her to this torturous journey of 3 days in that stinky compartment. Couldnt help but nudge hubby to bribe the coach attendant to take care of Maa and Bapi - something I surprisingly don`t feel ashamed of given the circumstances.

Fast-forward to the current settings - The rajdhani is everything that it promises to be. The attendants actually smile and say "Welcome Ma`am". Polite and courteous and ever smiling. The soup they serve is unexpectedly tasty and the breadsticks are soft. The air-conditioning is at the perfect temperature, charging points work and the food-tables do not creak while setting them up. The mirror is not cracked and looks freshly cleaned and the floor if not squeaky clean has very minimal dust/litter lying around. The co-passengers are busy doing their own thing - even the kids around seem least interested in creating a ruckus.

There are 2 aunties sitting next to us with huge balls of yarn and knitting needles spread out. One of them starts balling up the wool that is wound around her knees as she sits cross-legged on the berth chatting up with the other lady. It makes me smile. Reminds me lazy afternoons when I was a frock-wearing truant little kid who would keep pleading with mom to give me one of the brightly coloured balls of wool lying around to play football with in the playground, as mom and my maamis and neighbourhood aunties sat in our living room with their chai and assortment of biscuits and crackers and exchanged sweater and muffler designs and patterns. These were the days when kitty parties were looked upon as indulgences of housewives who had married rich and had nothing better to do in life other than play cards and flaunt jewellery and brag about foreign trips. The TT just walked by with a smile on his face and made some jovial banter with the ladies "Aap log aaram se khao piyo rest karo .. ye sab sweater bunna baad ke liye rakho ... chalti train mein bunne se aankhen kharab ho jaati hain". The aunties too shyly smiled back "Bore ho rahe hain ji .. bachchon ke liye sweater hi bun lein ... school mein kaam aati hain". Makes me smile again. How much I miss the bright pink and blue pullovers the ladies of our house used to knit for us.I somehow always found these hand-knitted scarves and pullovers way more cosy and pretty than the ones available in the stores.I havn`t really seen anyone in our genrations x,y and zee knit or sew. The slightest of mending needs a quick dash to the local tailor`s shop and as far as woollens are concerned , only the softest of branded cashmeres, at a fancy mall, having an insane price tag will do.Guilty as charged, The last time I did something similar to knitting (the end product was a shoddy mess - something I was mighty ashamed of and my mom was mega proud of :) )

I find it very selfless ... spending many a lazy afternoon staying up and knitting and poring over cute patterns and designs of flowers and teddy bears to knit into the sweaters ... and then giving away the finished masterpieces with an indulgent smile to a distant relative`s son or a kid in the neighbourhood who would pick one of these up and ask casually "aunty main ye le loon ?".Could I part away with something I had put so much heart into making , a true labour of love , to someone who perhaps did not figure into my scheme of things ? Perhaps not. Nay, most definitely not. Which again makes me rue about the sheer patience that the ladies of our moms generation had.
I mentally doff my hat to this thought and wish I could hop-skip across the country to just give mom a tight hug and a kiss and hop-skip back to reality again.

(Just as Im finishing this piece , one of the aunties worriedly looks at me "Beta, khana kha lo ... thandi ho rai hai.. paranthe sakt ho jayengi fir.. khana khake kaam kar lena" and then gives a toothy smile "iske baad icecream bhi denge ... badhiya waali". I promptly put aside my laptop and give her my brightest smile in response and as I make my way to the wash-basin I grin at seeing the trays of the badhiya-waali icecream kept on one of the berths ... the grin becomes wider upon a closer look - 'Barista lavazza Strawberry and Butterscotch' :D :D )

Hooked and booked

2010-07-09T01:31:00.000-07:00

Circa 16th of May, 2010 :

... And as I, a bundle of nerves draped in the red-dest of sarees, blurt out my name instead of my gotra and the priest quizzically looks at me - raised eyebrows but chanting uninterrupted ...
I get engaged to Meester :)

Privacy and anonymity be damned for this once.
This one goes out to
1) All of you whose faces I don`t recognise and names Im not aware of , who don`t feature in my Facebook or Gtalk lists , but who have been a part of my life spread out in this tiny little space in the big bad virtual world.
(SwB , this one`s for u :) Coz I dunno where to address my invite to you for the D-Day. )

2)Blogger .. which introduced me to Meester before I could even place a face to his name.

'THE BIG DAY' falls on the 22nd of November 2010 and " You are Invited " - very warmly at that :)

- Meester (Byzantine) & Saanjh

2010-04-04T14:10:00.000-07:00

March ..

A decade ago this was the month wherein the butterflies in my tummy worked overtime .. the baap of all exams .. Final Exams …The End-All-Be-All Final Exams … Nothing got bigger than that … Brings a smile on my face … reminiscing about it …

This March too had a ring of Finality in it … A decision that did not quite take me by surprise .. but awes me still … each time I realise that it has finally been taken …

It has been pretty eventful .. The past coupla months ...

I quit my first job … The cushy 9-6 job that sent me home on business trips … The one that gave me a sooper understanding and cool boss … The one that had me working with colleagues whom I could call friends … The one that gave me buddies with whom I could spill out my naughtiest secrets over rounds of truth-n-dare …

A fond surprise farewell just made Goodbyes tougher … a heavy heart and silent nostalgia later , I dawned in a new beginning … In more ways than one …

There are these times when something keeps staring at ur face but u refuse to come out of your foolish denial .. these times happened way too many times wimme … each time making me realize the frequency of their occurrence .. an Omen ? I believe so …

There are these times too when you get overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of some decisions and prefer to procrastinate rather than taking them head on .. That’s when the 2 towers called parents step in … and as always u can`t help but wonder what would u ever do without them …

It is scarily heady ... how things have fallen into place all by themselves … reaffirming my faith in the Great One above and the ones who I owe my everything to … Mom n Dad ... Thank you for hand-holding me through the biggest decision of my life yet … Thank you for making me realize that there couldn`t be a more wonderful thing than to get married to your best friend … Thank you for sitting me down and making me take note of all those hints I had chosen to ignore … Thank you for giving me Saby … Thank you for making Saby – The best friend into Saby – The partner for life.

I should have realized it when you stood protectively a few feet away from me … while I was getting ragged by your batchies …

I should have realized it when I met your eye each time a drenched and shivering me looked up … As your comrades dunked us hapless souls …

I should`ve realized it when you asked me out for our first walk amidst a crazy JLT and I willingly forego-ed a night of dancing and booze for a quiet walk in the woods and intelligent conversation …

I should`ve realized it when I landed up at your doorstep balancing books notes and papercups filled with lemon tea at 3 in the night demanding to be tutored ... the night before a finance quiz …

I should`ve realized it when we watched our first movie Sweet Home Alabama I guess , and I dozed off , and woke up at dawn to find ... you sleeping in the most uncomfortable of positions on your rickety chair … and your blanket over me …

I should`ve realized it when a drunk me puked my guts out and instead of being turned off for life, you ever so gently carried me all the way to my room breaking girls-dorm rules , inviting serious trouble …

I should’ve realized it when our crazy foursome had our crazy times and in the midst of all the craziness we stole knowing glances and smiles …

I should`ve realized it when I stalked you from one college committee to another and ended up interning at the same organization where you landed your job in …

I should`ve realized it when the first call I made, when life gave me my rudest shock , was to you …

I should`ve realized it when you held my hand through my lowest lows and hopped skipped with me during the precious few highs …

I should`ve realized it when you coached an anxious Mom n Dad over long STD calls, of your own accord, how to use Skype and Gtalk to talk to me when we were different continents apart…

I should`ve realized it when each time I backpacked to a new country I made a mental note to come back there again with you …

I should`ve realized it when I joined work in the same city as you and in less than a year joined the same organization yet again …

I should`ve realised it everytime our eyes found each other across a crowded room ...

I should`ve realised it when everytime you hugged me nothing seemed too difficult ...

A lot many should-haves later …
I realize it every single day when I peek outta my cubicle and flash my brightest smile in the way of a ‘Hi’ and you ‘Good morning’ me and settle down beside me as a co-worker for the next 8 hours …

It took me a while… but finally this overwhelmingly happy realization has sunk in …
… that I love you Saby … in more ways than one ... and there is no other person in this entire world I could possibly think of spending the rest of my life with …

2010-02-11T03:04:00.000-08:00

Does Madonna ACTUALLY utter Sigmund Freud in her Die Another Day !! Ouchh ...

And the censors are tang-karoing poor dear Rakhi Sawant for using 'Kameeni' in another of her ethereally aesthetic videos.
Oh Jejus !

2010-02-09T10:33:00.000-08:00

Overwhelmed.

That`s what Ive been feeling since the last coupla days.. or rather nights. The cause - a tiny lil 1.5 X 0.75 sq.feet, 4 month old being .. my niece Diya.
(Pardon the measurement thingy ..she still has no vital stats to speak of ... Shows great promise of flaunting fab stats a coupla decades down the line though :P ... I know, Im perhaps the most shameless maasi around :D )

The first few hours, with her sleeping in my arms, me cooing Akon to her for a Lori (I know Im also the most cracked up Maasi around :( ).. were Blissful ... for the lack of a better word...
I transformed into an award-winning sniffer dog for those few hours. Smelling her all over ... that tiny lil wobbly head , her lil hands , that excuse of a neck ... Aaahhh, no Goddamn parisian perfume can even come close to that absolutely pure and beautiful smell of an infant (ofcourse with generous doses of help from Johnsons & Johnsons baby talcum powder) . And I know 87.33% of you would totally agree... The rest 12.67% - U guys are unpardonably ignorant ..

Now comes the catch ....

We all settle down to go to bed after those happy-family-dines-together-laughs-together-plays-cards-together sessions that Sundays are probably created for.I tuck myself in for a peaceful night`s sleep .. so as to not wake up extra-grumpy for another inevitably gloomy Monday ... .... and there`s a wail ... An ultra high-pitched one at that ... and my cellfone has just beeped 1:30 A.M.
I try and ignore ... jam 2 pillows on my ears ... a few minutes pass by .. I gingerly draw the pillows down ... Ahhh .. the sunehra kinda silence that we used to read on posters in school corridors "Silence is golden" ( I guess it also had a picture of a eyes-half-closed golden Buddha as the backdrop) ... A few peaceful moments pass by ... slumber sets in.. ive already conjured up a beautiful lil Excel sheet and have just started colouring it ....... Another ultrasonic wail ....

Aiyooooo paapam ... I kick back the Rajai and march to Didi`s room .. hair disheveled to the point of no-repair ... sleep ruined to the point of no-return ... And find Diya .. the lil imp ... wiggling about and letting out inexplicably shrill wails ... Mom has her typical worried and hassled Naani look on ... Didi has her irritated but guilty look on (dunno how she manages that ..and no, she hasnt attended any National School of Drama workshops to master that look) ...And then I do the unthinkable ... I actually VOLUNTEER to hold Diya and put her to sleep .. Now by the looks of it, it doesnt seem remotely life-threatening to elicit such a reaction ... Little did I know what was about to unfold..

2 A.M. ... Im rocking her .. Akon is replaced by Celine Dion .. to no avail .. she keeps kicking about .. flailing her arms .. in general a very happy and wide-awake kid ..
the keyword here being "wide-awake" ...

3:30 A.M. ... Im still rocking her ... Im back to mixing Akon and Black Eyed Peas and am at my mellifluous best ....
Result - Her eyes are as wide as big round brown saucers and shes gurgling away in joy ... and I have serious doubts that she has bid the sleep fairies a very stern Goodbye ...

4:15 A.M. .. Now she starts getting cranky ... all her toothless smiles n gurgles have been replaced by her trying to scratch her own face and pulling at her own soft silky mop of hair ...
As about me - Had there been a cam around somewhere .. then perhaps the most genuine award-winning photograph captioned "HELPLESS" would have been captured right there right then.

5 A.M. ... Now shes crying and howling alternatively and I have absolutely no doubts that any Norah Jones or Shreya Ghoshal could have exercised their vocals chords to any degree of success in calming this wiggly lil creature in my arms. I somehow balance her precariously on one arm and ready her feeding bottle .. This is something I actually should win an award for .. Atleast it would be more credible than a 'Star Performer of the Quarter' award. She finishes off the bottle in what .. 6 minutes flat and flashes this full and content smile at me. Im almost tempted to let out a sigh of relief when I see those eyes again regaining their widest diameter and she kicking about as if Id just fed her a whole can of Red Bull.

6:15 A.M. ... Shes playing with my hair ... has drooled all over my shorts and is generally giving another of her lengthy discourses in gurgly gibberish. Im perched on my bed .. crosslegged .. reclined against the wall .. staring at some invisible crack on the ceiling .. My thought trail reads something like this ...

Was the ceiling always this disgusting a yellow .... and the fan .. how odd ! Id never noticed the golden thingies carved on its blades .. I should start decoding baby-gibberish .. That would so certainly bag me a Nobel and I could visit Sweden again .. Hopefully in summer .. I wish people would conceive in summer and babies are born in winter ... I could make a roaring business in baby woollens and thermals .. Winter Fashion for Just-borns .. 'The perfect styling for the purrrfect first photograph of your little one'.. On second thoughts, I wish people just don`t conceive at all ... Every couple should be content with just doing it .. not making something out of it u know ! Couples can just adopt .. Why go through the traumatic experience of pregnancy, puking, doc visits, labour , delivery , post-natal care and the baap of all - the extra traumatic sleepless days n nights when the baby makes everything else around you vanish into a black hole. Its just this lil wiggly lil mass of flesh that becomes the center of your universe .. much to ur then-better-now-crabby half`s consternation. All the louuu goes outta the window when the squabble starts about whos gonna change the diapers .. whos gonna ready the milk bottle .. whos gonna put her to sleep ... Heyyy ...wait a sec ! Aren`t I supposed to be rocking a pesky lil one to sleep myself ... And I look down ..

And There she is ...
Lil ringlets of hair framing that angelic face .. lips half open in a dreamy smile ( Another Bigggg doubt - What do babies dream about baba, that makes them smile away in their sleep), flushed cheeks and tiny lil fingers wrapped around my little finger and her body nuzzled close against me as the first rays of dawn bathe her in their mellow light ...
It makes me want to cry a little.
I hold her close to me and lie down beside her .. an arm protectively around her .. shielding her from the sunrays , from the early morning chill , from badass mosquitoes who dare not come within a coupla hundred of metres around her.

Diya ... Someday when you grow up to become a lovely lil girl ... and then bloom into a lovelier woman ... I want you to know me ... your Maasimaa ...
She might be a lil healthily-demented .. might not come across as a sane, sober, dainty female ... might have the most atrociously un-normal way of looking at things and life in general ... but in all of her 24 years of existence there have been and are a very few things she is absolutely sure of ...
A couple of those being - that of she loving you to bits ... and that of you, in all your gurgling glory, having changed the way she thought about faith ... about love .. about life ...

2010-01-31T19:54:00.000-08:00

Disillusioned. Angry. Weary. Vulnerable. Hurting .... Hopeful

Checklist : 2010

2010-01-05T03:06:00.000-08:00

Umm .. lemme just blabber them all out ..

Get my finances in order.

Learn Kannada ... properly this time .

At the back of my mind its always gonna be home over money .. how much ever I crib about being kadka.

Not pine for something that is clearly out of reach.

Get into some kinda exercise routine .. Exhaustion gives you a good night`s sleep .. brooding doesn`t.

Not gonna hesitate to text Dad how much I miss him .

Take some exclusive me-time out .

Get some variety in cooking .. egg-burji doesn`t really qualify as a dish.

Vikram Seth and Pamuk and lil chunks of Danielle Steeles and Norah Roberts thrown in. :)

Learn to wear eye-liner and not obsess about looking 'made-up' for the next few hours hence.

Warm up to the fact that I knowingly fall for the 'darkest' of the 'dark'-er sex .. and I have but myself to blame for it .

Grow my hair longer and control the obsessive compulsive urge to colour it blazing red.

Cut down on sweets ... just a lil teeny-weeny bit.

Drink Less.

Sift friends from chaff ..

Move over to dresses from jeans ....occasionally.

Move on ....

Pretty much do-able .. right ?

2009-12-31T22:53:00.000-08:00

Whoever said .. it is difficult to Hope against hope .. thou be damned ...
It comes as naturally to me as does the thought
Of a slothful weekend when my limbs get weary ...

Trying not to care .. putting on this air of fake indifference ..
Has been sapping me outta the last vestiges of human emotions ..
Emotions that I never knew could touch me .. singe me ..

This hanging onto every word that is said ..
Analysing whether it was an offhanded remark ..
or dished out in all seriousness ...
Do I put on a knowing smile ..
Or do I stick to my lost-puppy look .. So that he would care to explain ..

Is all of the above an inherent normal female DNA problem
Or do I blame it on malfunctioning neurons ...

Have I been asking too many questions ... !!

2009-11-24T23:23:00.000-08:00

I envy people who can talk. Talk about themselves.. talk about their past , their future and ofcourse their present in a large measure. I have always found it difficult to talk about myself. Something that has become pretty evident in the past few years. Perhaps coz these few years have made me realize that my life is no one else`s business but mine and a handful of other people`s.
It aint attitude. Its simple honesty.
I havn`t been able to fathom why people, who are but gonna live for a predefined number of minutes on this planet, should be subjected to a discourse on my life and my stuff , the contents of which are never gonna have any kinda bearing on how the remaining minutes of their lives are gonna shape up.
Perhaps this might explain my awful networking skills.
Forced smiles and conversations... The absence of which would lead to you being branded as unsocial, haughty, arrogant .. rude even.
A trend analysis of my relationships, with everyone who is and has been a part of my life, would throw up a very definitive result - That of they having thrived and flourished over the written word rather than the spoken one. Letters, e-mails, memos, chats (the online typing-dependent ones), diaries and ofcourse this very 'My Space' ... These are the means and modes where I have been able to open up a little about myself without guilt-tripping whether I`ve blabbered out too much too soon.
Im sorry if I don't respond well to "Whats up in Life ?". Im sorry if I dont have a witty repartee to "So howz it been since the last time we caught up?".
But I aint sorry to be fanatically possessive about my memories to blurt them out in casual conversations and be subjected to nonchalant indifferent reactions for the same.

(P.S. Yeah , Mood swings .. Too many .. Too often. Hopefully this too shall pass.)

Friday Ruminations

2009-11-20T02:27:00.000-08:00

Lotta stuff goin on in my head ... Need to clear it up a bit .. Shall resort to u my faithful blog as a Pen Drive for the time being .. ummm.. on second thoughts u need to gear up into a decently configured Hard-disk to take the onslaught thats gonna hit u ..

Note : None of the stuff is inter-related or correlated or guilty of any kinda relation existing among them .. So please bear wimme and no .. Im not suffering from temporary dementia :)

- Have got this new-found fascination for bangles .. huge wooden ones and delicate glass ones. Love the sound when the latter clink together..has this newly-wed feel to it . Dig the punky hippie look the former imparts. Always knew there`s a rebel and a daddy`s sweet lil girl co-existing within me .. Pray for this harmonious co-existence to prevail .. every single day .

- How do you explain blowing up 2.5 grand on fancy innerwear while being completely aware of ur hopelessly single status and the obvious foolishness of the impulse buy !
As they say .. Shit Happens .
As I say .. I make the shit happen .. drag it by its ears n make it happen :|

- Im riddled with this inexplicable urge to become a Mom .. Someway .. Somehow . Why can`t it be a standalone feature of growing up ? Why does it have to wait for a humongously expensive social showcase of a rite called "Marriage" to happen before it does? Becoming an aunt has filled me with a sweet mellow kind of happiness. Smelling the lil ones head , watching her yawn and smile in sleep has strangely made me aware of the existence of beautiful untarnished goodness on this planet. This tiny being stands for an entity that is all pure n white , no traces of greys .. blacks don`t even feature newhere in the vicinity. Being with her makes me feel responsible and vulnerable at the same time .. makes me feel happy for no particular reason .. makes me aware of that elusive feeling called 'Unconditional Love'... Pray tell me , why should I be deprived of experiencing this purest of all emotions just because Im not wearing a fancy black beaded necklace or a red powder smear on my forehead.
Beats me ... totally !

- This is for the girls out there. Its a chilly breezy evening on an almost empty stretch of road and ur riding pillion with this person u adore to bits sitting right infronta u .. inches away .. nay perhaps centimetres away ... U wanna snuggle up to him and hug him tight but you can`t ... All you wanna do, when he attempts a steep swerve is to close your eyes and hold on to him but it takes the self-restraint of a Lhasa monk to hold yourself back ..
And why ??
Coz it aint right, coz its aftermath is gonna be awkward , coz it would 'complicate' things ...
A hundred such voices cram your head and there ... that tiny glimmering flame gets extinguished before it could even burn bright .. and there you are left out in the cold .. literally and figuratively ..
Now girls , What do u DO in such trying times ! Wait till he drops u off at ur apartment gate and then flash the most brilliant of fake smiles at him ?
Kindly enlighten me on any other relatively exciting plan of action , if any ..
Preferably without the asterisk mark and the disclaimer in fine print below stating 'Conditions Apply'..

"You Never Know what`s round the corner .. follow the rules and you won`t get burned."

Came across the above somewhere ... Just wanted to know whether there is a corollary somewhere for people who don`t mind getting singed ..
A little heat did no one much harm , did it ?!

2009-11-04T08:55:00.000-08:00

Okaay ...

Almost a year since I graced 'My Space' with my words..Can already see a mesh of cobwebs obscuring any cursory glance at this space .. Im sure not many of you would`ve taken the pain of clearing through the cobwebs and the inch-thick layer of dust lying around here ..

Im very much alive .. dunno whether I can use that cheesy t-shirt tagline "Alive and kicking" though..

The last post was written while I was away in France .. Horibbly homesick .. counting the days when Id get back home.Its perhaps the only thing common in life then and life now .. Homesickness.

When I`d left for France, Dad`s transfer was imminent and I knew this might be the last time I`d be in my cozy lil forest bungalow-ish Jayanagar home. That last wistful look at my house as I loaded the huge suitcases into the car is gonna be one of the frames in the flashback reel of my life.
But then, What goes around .. comes right around. Its been B`lore -> France -> Bhubaneswar and then back to B`lore in this one year. Though it is ever-crowded and ever-bustling Marathalli now instead of old-worldly and quaint Jayanagar, it still is good ol' B'lore.

Life has changed and so have I , I believe, in the past 12 months.Though I don`t think there`s been any life-altering earth-shattering change , but still. For starters I can now legally be categorized under the 'employed class' or 'labour class' of the country. ( Yeah, Prof. Joydeep`s Macroeconomics makes much more sense now than the days when it shoud have).

Then : I wake up sumtime around noon (post-placement, post- final term days of sheer bliss) and mentally abuse the ceiling fan for emitting the slightest of creaks which broke my sleep this early.Anyways,now that I am awake, I think of grabbing a quick brunch at the mess and then off to Bibhu`s room for a movie/bakar marathon.Idyllic lazy walks and Adda sessions in the evenings and daaru sessions at night well into dawn and then trudge back to my creaky ceiling fan and messy room for a dawn-till-noon nap.

Now : I wake up to the alarm screaming its lungs out, sharp at 6:30.Get the house cleaned, cook breakfast for bro, get ready in what.. 4 mins and run to catch the bus, commute along the dustiest grimy-est 20 kms of B'lore and then starts the actual grind. Make reports for the top mgmt. who perhaps don`t even bother to open them, colour some excel sheets, do some number crunching of incomprehensible figures and some fancy analysis, grovel infronta the boss for that one precious day of leave and be subjected to an hour long discourse on how as a manager I should plan my leaves 3 months in advance (Bludy .. I should consult astrological charts to know the actual date when Im supposed to have viral fever !), clock in some overtime and make sure it is noticed by the boss ( Unspoken Corporate Code of Conduct #47 : Never ever leave for the day before your boss does :|) , leave for home (God Bless the faithful Red Volvos), shop for vegetables, reach home all tired and bedraggled but somehow drag yourself to the kitchen to cook ( n when ur cooking for men - my bro in this case, you`d better make it nice .. no kaam chalau stuff would do for this specie whose heart is located inside their stomachs) gulp down the dinner (not daring the taste buds to stay in contact with the food a second longer) and collapse onto ur bed. A few hours hence .. Its just another day ...

Few Other things have changed too ..

My faithful ancient cellphone finally breathed its last after 7 long years .. Had been wimme right from 12th Std. and bore the brunt of everyone`s sniggers when fancy new cellfones came into the market n suddenly having a cell-fone with a lime-green screen and an inch long antenna became a strict fashion no-no .. I still miss u .. Cellotaped Battery and cracked screen and bright red blinking L.E.D notwithstanding.

No more sprinting to early morning classes((dats 9 am :D ) ) in night-suit uppers and worn-out,knee-slashed snug jeans and bathroom slippers.Now I even drop off to sleep in office wear - read : scruffy shirts n trousers or when Im in a rare happy and dressy mood - churidaar-kurtas complete with bindi n bangles :D ( A few more years in Bengaluru n I might sport a gajra soon).

Floaters and flats are gettin comfy staying put in the shoe-rack while I mercilessly plod away in heels and strappy shoes...

The faithful schoolbag has given way to an assortment of girly totes n clutches.Though I still am bad at co-ordinating them with any outfit...

Have started wearing a watch coz apparently looking at your cellfone to check the time isn`t very "Corporate-y" :|..

Have learnt how to convincingly dish out harmless white lies (U know .. texting "Mom, Ill have to call u back later .. in a meeting" while watching Love Aaj Kal for the 5th time at PVR :P )

The Black nailpolish and the toerings had to go and so did the ballpen grafitti on my jeans..

No more indulging in buying Tantra tees in bulk .. its more of waitin for Wills Lifestyle and Van Heusen Sale now...

Kumar Punjabi Dhaba has given way to McD and the likes ... n am I hating it !

Can cook a proper 4-course meal for n- number of people with more confidence than I exuded while making those faff-ey Business Ethics presentions..

No more walking into anyone`s room for a late-night chitchat .. Gtalk and Skype are Godsends now...

Some things still havn`t changed though ...

Still love walking in the rain ..

Still find it difficult to argue and raise my voice .. even when it is absolutely needed..

Still cringe talking about money and pay and the likes ...

Still obsess about weight-loss ...

Still love feeling the wind against my face on late-night bike rides ...

Still get all happy and excited at the prospect of a movie right after office ..

Still find it surprising as tears roll down seeing a lonesome mangy lil pup yelping on a busy road ..

Still cry myself to sleep when the loneliness gets to me ...

Still fall for hopelessly wrong guys ..

Still happiest when with a book in hand and lounge playing on the ipod ..

Still have the gleam in my eyes on spotting a chocolate irrespective of its size ..

Still learning to say NO ...

Still pathetic at taking compliments ..

Still trying to find my niche ..

Still uncertain about what my true calling is ...

Still waiting to be truly happy and content ...

Still unable to fathom whether love is a myth or a truism ...

Still long to nestle between Mom n Dad and watch Hrishikesh Mukherjee movies ...

Still not willing to let go despite knowing it is a lost cause ..

Still .. very much me .. I guess .. I hope ...

Reminiscence

2008-12-17T17:09:00.000-08:00

Yeah , I know .. this is my second longest absence from 'My Space...' and that too during a time when I should have blogged diligently and regularly. Perhaps I did not get inspired to pen down all the numerous things that were thrust my way , some all of a sudden .. some others not that sudden ; in a haphazard fashion. I wanted to do justice to these 3 months of my life which I would rather say were more about discovering stuff about my own self rather than discovering the wonders of Europe.

Terming it as a 'dream come true' would perhaps be the greatest lie , coz honestly I hadn`t ever dreamt that I would go backpacking across Europe as a 23 year old , a student and single. This wasn`t to be some teenagery romp across the beaches and mountains with my guy, nor was it meant to be Gondola rides and quiet romantic French dinners with my spouse. To be honest as I was packing my bags for it , back home in chaotic Bangalore , I realised I was the only person among the 12 of us who had no agenda in mind about the next 3 months that lay ahead. One expected it to be a spiritual tour with Vatican and Fatima beckoning him , while for another it was gonna be about French wining and dining and for yet another it was about checking out the female species, from every possible nationality ,up close n personal. Someone wanted to explore the European music scene ,another wanted to check out the soccer and F1 circuit, while yet another wanted to 'do' the sin cities of Amsterdam and Prague. One of the girls wanted to go crazy shopping while another wanted a break from the rigour of an Indian B-school. The rest chanted "I jus wanna travel and travel and travel some more" as their reasons. All I used to do in these meetings, before we embarked upon this, was to hear all of them ramble enthusiastically about how they plan to do their 'thing' once we get there. Later , I would lie down on my bed and try and think of some reason that would excite me about this trip , of some reason that would invigorate me to jump outta bed and start planning and packing. I could find none. A painful and long-drawn break-up did nothing to salvage my already dipping enthusiasm. What made matters worse was the thought that perhaps it was the making of one huge big mistake , an expensive one at that.

After an uneventful flight from Mumbai, As we stopped over at Helsinki to take our connecting flight to Paris , I lost my way in the huge Vanta Airport at Helsinki. All alone and trundling along with a trolley overflowing with luggage, cursing the day when I had made that impulsive decision to opt for this Student Exchange program and having no clue about how I was goin to make it to Paris ... stranded as I was .. I hear my name booming from the Public address system "Sweta Bhoi , FinnAir passenger to Paris" and I see Padhiary running towards me gesturing wildly , I told myself ,amidst the relief coursing through my blood "Abhi khatam nei hua boss" :).

We reach Paris and I make a call back home. It sure felt weird to mouth the words "Hey Dad, Im in Paris now, alls fine".Hell, yeah it did feel so different than the normal "Hey Dad, Ive reached Bhubaneswar, alls good". From this moment onwards started our series of firsts. Our first tryst with trying to ask for directions from the french who are so proudly anti-british that they find it below their dignity to even understand English , let alone speaking it , our first TGV from Paris to Lille.It is midnight when we reach the city that we were to call our home for the next 3 months - Lille. As I step out of Lille Flandres station and feel the chilly breeze tugging at my thin jacket, the realization dawns - I am in France , in Europe .. and this is where I have to make the most of the 3 months that I am to spend here.I glance around at the city that was so clearly in deep slumber and the stunning architecture of the buildings that showed promise of springing to life in the morning.

It sure felt .. different.. to be sharing a house with 8 other people.It wasnt as if I was thrust into a house full of strangers, I knew all of them, infact was pals with most of them. But nevertheless, the whole experience of waking up in the morning n while making a beeline for the loo, bumping into a groggy-eyed, toothbrush-wielding guy who I used to earlier bump into only in classrooms or the mess or at most in the Boys Hostel during overnight assignment n project discussions .. it felt pleasantly weird in the initial few days.It felt kinda homemaker-ish to go shopping for potatoes and ginger-garlic paste with guys with whom I not very long ago used to discuss ERP assignments and Corporate Planning term papers.Yea, It was a Bigg Boss kinda setting and soon the idle bakar and bitching too started off.But, I think I can safely say that my greatest learning from this whole experience has been staying with 8 other people who are as different from the other as chalk and cheese, adjusting along the way with each one`s idiosyncracies and temperaments,grocery shopping, paying bills, cooking, chopping , washing dishes , scrubbing bathtubs and sinks, clearing the trash, vacuuming and mopping the floor, cleaning the toilet.. the works.Learning how to function as one cohesive unit, learning to say 'no' (which I still think I really need to work upon), learning to speak out for oneself and stand by your views.It is now that I realize why all those kids who go abroad at an early age to fend for themselves, return as grounded and quietly-confident individuals.

As my days here in Lille, draw to a close, I have very expectedly switched over to the restrospective mode.As I go for long evening walks and the wintry breeze brushes past me... like flat chalk works its way on a blackboard... I reminisce about my stay in this beautiful lil Lille.The highlights of my trip, I shall be detailing in another post, where I hope to do justice to each little memory that I shall carry close to my heart forever.However I have realised one thing, no matter how many Mills and Boons I read hereon, and vacillate over the hotness quotient of the guys of those many nationalities ; I know my heart would always beat a wee bit faster for a desi. I might mentally salivate over the oozing Italian charm, the quiet Greek intensity, the sharp German intellect or the subdued French passion, but I don`t think there would ever be a bigger turn on than bumping into a nice Indian bloke on a chilly snowy winter evening, at the Grand Place of a quaint little European town,and be greeted by a smiling "Aap bhi India se ho ?" ....

Airport Blues .. Part II

2008-10-11T12:26:00.000-07:00

We finally reach Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport at 4 am.
And spot Padhiary at a distance .. Nah , hes not at a distance anymore .. Wait, why is he running towards us .. ?
Padhiary : “Maine tum logon ko bola tha na 3:30 pohoch jane ? Itna late kyun lagaya ? 8 am ko flight hai , agar miss ho gayi to ?!!

Introducing ...Padhiary : Touted to be the biggest brand of XIMB. The ultimate motion man … The constant need to have every appendage of his, moving ..be it his mouth .. his feet .. his hands , is as important to him as breathing itself.

We wheel our stuff inside and report at the check-in counter and come to know that our flight is running an hour late. . Neways, we move ahead , all 6 of us in a line . Suddenly, Pachis who is leading the human train stops abruptly and the rest of us come to a bumpy halt , almost knocking off the person infront with our trolleys .

Reason : Spotted – By Pachis .. A gorgeous, smoky-eyed Lebanese woman. We all finish off with our turns of blatant , open-mouthed staring and look back at Jajoo .. And there he is .. All glassy-eyed .. Walking on jelly-ed legs in one direction .. his luggage trolley going off in another .. and a silly , ‘baring-all-your-teeth’ grin pasted on his face.

Introducing …. Jajoo : The one of the Kajrare thumkas fame , champion of everything remotely marwari and one of the youngest CFA level 1s of XIMB.

Soon we are through with the immigration and security check-ins and reach the waiting lounge with over 3 hours to go before we board our flight. I am ravenous and with much guilt nibble on a cold, leathery sandwich worth Rs. 200 . I see Tapan trying to chew a more leathery burger (worth Rs. 250) and I suddenly don`t feel that guilty anymore. (Bwahahaha .. I know im evil ;) )

Tapan goes to the duty free counters to stock himself up with cigarettes for 3 months. Apparently , one risks bankruptcy if he expects to smoke up on French cigarettes even for a month. And Pachis takes out his uber-cool leather trench coat of a jacket , which sadly is a few sizes too large for his skinny frame.

Introducing .. Tapan : Undeclared ‘stud’ of XIMB, the guy who has his own charming way with girls preferably of the firang breed and who was at that t me , dragging himself to his seat (Courtesy : Army-ish Woodlands shoes several sizes too large and too heavy to be adorning his twig-like legs )

And …Pachis : The scrawny , skinny guitarist and drummer , a fellow IlluminatiX member , with the most likably weird hindi accent and oh yeah , branded as a “Marwari ke naam pe kalank” by Jajoo ; For God knows what reason.

I promptly doze off, not wanting my already tortured tummy to bother digesting that leathery sandwich . After sometime AD gets really bored and fishes out her camera for an extended photo-session of us tortured and bored-to-death sleepyheads.

Introducing .. AD : The unofficial babe of XIMB , almost always turned out in the latest and trendiest in fashion and yeah .. a certified head-turner.

I am rudely woken up by an ear-splitting beep-beep. I half-open my eyes and find that the group photosession too is interrupted by this nauseating alarm which seems to have gone off in the entire airport .. Echoing even louder in the relatively uncrowded morning hours at the terminus. People start looking at us suspiciously as though we were some masterminds behind this irritating beep-beep. We give them the looks of fooling-around-Yes- terrorists- No , to no avail. Just as luck would have it, we see a pot-bellied policeman waddling across towards us .

Policeman (PM) : “Idhar cigarette nei peene ka”
We : “Nei, Piya Sir”

PM : “Koi lighter-wighter jalaya kya “
We : “ Bilkul nei jalaya Sir”

PM : “Kuch to kiya hai tum log. Isiliye alarm baj rela hai”
We : We actually lost it, at this level of accusation and enlightened the moron of a policeman that the alarm is ringing throughout the airport and that he had no rights to accuse us without any proof.
< The latter portion was put across in a not-so-nice way , so can`t actually put down the words here.>

Afterall MBA students hain .. Kadke hue to kya , hamari bhi koi izzat hai !

Mercifully , the highly unnerving alarm stops and I doze off once again (as usual) and the others are back to fooling around.

Soon , our boarding is announced. We decide that it was enough of excitement for that morning and that it was time to be achha-bachas.
So we queue up pretty docilely and proceed towards the big bird waiting to whisk us away .. saat samundar paar.

Airport Blues ..Part I

2008-10-11T12:23:00.000-07:00

Date : 24th September 2008
Time : 3 am
Venue : Mumbai , Gaurav`s place

Jajoo, Tapan, Pachis and yours truly sitting propped up on a huge bed beneath huge fluffy blankets …All quiet. We were exactly 5 hours away from taking off on an adventure trip of sorts .. To France ! We liked to refer it as the “the trip of our lives”. The days and months of planning finally reaching fruition. We all sit tranquil and contemplative … Suddenly the silence is broken .. Jajoo : “Abey , humko Papa ne ye suitcase diya hai .. ekdum mast wala .. apna saara documents and paeesa rakhega hum isme .. isko hum agar apna bada wala bag mein daalke, peeche taang lega .. tab to ye hamara hand baggage ban jayega na ??
The rest 3 of us turn … and look at him with utmost undisguised disgust …

Context :
We were going to France for a whole of 3 months ! Yeah , 3 whole months and the total luggage limit allowed by our airlines FinnAir (more about the airlines later ) was a measly 25 kgs !!!

Now , I remember , every time I fly back to college from Bangalore , Im fined for checking in atleast 5 Kgs extra luggage than the permissible limit , which used to be 30 Kgs ! Now the situation works out like this

10 days of vacation at home = 35 kgs
90 days of winter stay in a cold european country = 25 kgs ??!!!!

Bahut nainsaafi hai … !!!

Now , what we 4 were sitting and contemplating were not “French men/women (as the case may be) ke sunehre sapne” ; but rather how the hell are we gonna tow all our numerous pieces of luggage, each of them carrying precious quantities of home food , all the way to France … yeah , including Jajoo`s “mast wala” humongous suitcase (which supposedly should be stuffed into another huge bag of his , and this entire ensemble of his, he plans to flaunt as a backpack in order to pass it off as hand baggage !! For Godsakes ….

P.S This should`ve given you an idea about the kinda people we are :) And we were soon to be joined by AD and Padhiary who are extensive case studies in themselves !
France .. Beware .. here we come .

2008-09-27T12:02:00.000-07:00

17th September - Bhubaneswar
18th September - Bangalore
22nd September - Mumbai
24th September - Helsinki
24th September - Paris
25th September - Lille (France)

Reached the destination, which had months of planning behind it.
The funniest part is ... it still hasn`t sunk in :)

More on it .. in my subsequent posts

2008-09-08T15:50:00.000-07:00

Chanced by the blog of D, whom I always thought to be annoying and exasperating albeit in a cute way... and discovered a soothing side to him, a side so intricately connected with music , poetry , science and love ...

Sitting here in the room of a dear friend S , trying to trudge through completing my Corporate Planning assignment , I realise how hasty we are in judging people ... How wrong we are in generalising people into 'good' or 'bad' .. no middle path .. either its all 'black' or all 'white' .. we don`t want to leave any scope for the possibility of traces of greys ... in our hurry to categorise people we dont stop by to scratch beneath the surface .. Why ? Perhaps, we don`t wanna accept that we ever went wrong in our judgement the very first time itself ...

S and D are 2 people who have helped me regain my faith in the opposite sex ..the 'dark'er sex ... a little though ... But, enough for the time-being.... One plays Counter Strike like a maniac while the other is a nerd juggling core Marketing and Finance papers with equal aplomb (dats one mean feat; for the uninitiated)... But their passions lie safely ensconced in their loved ones miles away physically ... Both sides slogging away the MBA hours with the alluring vision of a beautiful life ahead ... a life firmly intended to be spent TOGETHER . They make me feel so much better about the fact that such people do exist .. people who don`t tom-tom their emotions, don`t parade their affections .. but feel about them as strongly as one ever could ... People who believe in the beautiful intangible things of life .. Men, who are actually man enough to make their women feel special, cared for immensely and most importantly ... loved unconditionally.

Wish HE made more like them ... Wish HE actually has made more like them .. preferably still single :)

2008-08-31T06:09:00.000-07:00

"At first, when we truly love someone, our greatest fear is that the loved one will stop loving us. What we should fear and dread instead is that we won't stop loving them, even after they are dead and gone."
Had scoffed at the absolute corniness of the lines above when I had first come across them ... never realized that corny stuff too have the ring of familiarity at times..

2008-08-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

Ugliest face of man - Betrayal

2008-08-15T11:17:00.000-07:00

I dunno how it happens, but a whole day of American TV series viewing, leaves me with a strange yankee in-my-mind accent !! Something which I have finally realised today...
Happy Independence day people !! But, Im sorry to say I havn`t been quite my Swadeshi self today :(... Spent the whole day watching back to back episodes of Desperate Housewives... Okay, it isnt a crime I know, but I honestly dunno what it does to my speech , and that too the speech that goes on in my head !!
It happens like this - You know when ur jus talking to yourself, those things that u just say to yourself in ur head, they just start getting pronounced in a weirdly lilting yankee accent.Duh uh !! (u wud say..).But, it starts getting onto ur nerves when Marriage becomes Maeyridge , people become pheepul , can`t becomes Khaeyint ,angry becomes aeyngree , don`t become dhount ,nothing becomes nufink and so on .....
I truly, madly, deeply HATE fake accents !!
Just hope that I dont "think-aloud" and risk hating myself ..

Didn`t I tell u (awhhh ... I almost said Thell u ! :S ), that I just might be a wee bit weird ? ;) :D

2008-08-12T17:06:00.000-07:00

"Tujhse naraaz nahin zindagi , hairan hun main,
Tere Masoom sawaalon se pareshan hun main .."

2008-08-11T16:27:00.000-07:00

At last something to be proud of !
And what an overwhelming silent pride it is !!

May you spawn more of your race and may they live upto the composure you showed in your winning moments.

P.S ( for us , those who wanna rejoice but are hesitant; lest it appear frivolous, for God knows what reason )
Lets keep the congratulatory sarcasm aside for some time.
This ain`t the time for chest-beating (the familiar "why can't India win more?Just this one medal ??"), but a time for celebration ("this is how we do it! Let's go out and keep trying for some more.")

2008-08-08T07:50:00.000-07:00

Discovered ..that there is a devil and an angel within me. The real challenge I`ve ever had in my 22 trips around the Sun.... has been to make these two love each other.

The struggle continues... Jus that it gets increasingly amazing and intriguing as I fast approach the end of my 23rd trip.

2008-08-06T07:27:00.000-07:00

Will someone tell some people to shut their pretty mouths up, when they don`t have anything worthwhile to speak of !! It is absolutely okay, if they just sit in a corner n preen n let the others who do have some content to take the center-stage instead.

Honestly, Im amazed at the way few people just dont get it !! U keep throwing these hints at them "Sweetie, I think u have spoken all that ur pea-sized brain could conjure... Now its time to give that n ur pouty mouth some respite..Some people seem to have this weird notion, that they should just go on talking for the heck of it .. or wait , maybe they feel their admission to a B-school was on the basis of how well they had fooled the blissfully unaware panel with their hi-falutin words but soulfully-needy eyes "Please take me in , I promise I wont behave like the absolute moron dat Im doing right now".And now that they have actually made it here , they assume that it gives them a free-ticket to non-stop nonsense talk.Don`t they realise that they have jus then revealed their well-guarded-till-then airheaded self to the world.

It gets really queasy when u r in the company of this complete dim-wit of a 23-24 year old who just goes on and on and on over ridiculous topics which no one in the vicinity has much time to lend an ear to.But some people just dont seem to understand and keep on doing their highly ungraceful ballet amidst a cacophony of dumb dull words.

P.S Yeah , Im in a particularly exasperated mood.
Disclaimer : Im not a great talker myself, But I thank the great one above to have given me the minimum level of practical intelligence to understand when to speak what.And Am I grateful to him for that !!

2008-07-17T03:30:00.000-07:00

Aeons ago Na tum Jano na Hum from Kaho Naa ..Pyaar Hai was on the repeat button of my Desktop`s Winamp. Now my Lappy has finally succeeded in getting its first 'Repeat Track'...It`s Khuda Jaane from Bachna Ae Haseeno ... Absolutely hooked onto it since last night...Pure Magic ... (the slow number , not its remix version for Gods Sake :) ).. Thanks Bibhu... U know ur a darling ...don`t ya !!

P.S ..N yeah it doesn`t make me feel old ...
(Jaane Tu`s awesome tracks almost make me cry out for my long-since-gone teen years :( )

2008-07-15T12:50:00.000-07:00

Feel so grown-up and old these days... Been feelin so for quite sometime.

Just this afternoon , it started raining real hard..without a warning.U know those kinds ...which just pour , dont even drizzle, when u fear that u r caught in a cloudburst or somethin ? We all were huddled in the mess , sipping hot tea and praying that it stops raining soon , so that we make it to the next class without bothering to open our umbrellas (U know , u keep the umbrellas outside the classroom to dry , and when the class gets over , u discover that ur new pink polka-dotted umbrella is replaced with a disgusting black one instead ... umm .. on second thoughts I would prefer a staid black one instead of my awfully bright pink one). A few of the guys just step out in the rain in that Shahrukh Khan-ish style , u know with arms outstretched and a that slow wannabe walk and heads tilted towards the sky with that "yeah-I-like-that-gimme-more" look and a lopsided hey-look-im-so-kewl (ewww!!!) grin on their faces. A few minutes passed and all those supposedly 'kewl' antics got washed away and all u had was a bunch of 24-25 year olds, jumping about in the puddles , huddling together , falling over each other , gyrating in awful dance moves...

And all I could think of was "Eeeks , what the hell are they doing .. Its all so Juvenile ".

A coupla years ago I might have been in that motley group myself , doing the same thing that made me scrunch up my nose now.

Perhaps someday Ill sit down n make a Before / After list of the things I did (maybe still do) and see the stark differences in the two.

What`s changed this drastically in me ? Or is it that Ive actually grown old for some things ??

2008-07-06T18:30:00.000-07:00

Simple Past.Present Imperfect.Future Tense.

2008-05-05T04:43:00.000-07:00

At times I wish people wouldnt use and abuse the words "I understand".

Hell, when u dont understand then just don`t say it.I don`t expect you to either.
Companionable silence would do just fine.
I wish people had half the heart to understand that they actually 'DON'T understand'.
I wish people would realise how painful it is to hear those words when they sound so unconvincing.

It is absolutely understandable that people won`t feel the pathos that you do, they would perhaps never be able to gauge the inner agony that an outwardly smiling face belies.
I pray that they never come face to face with the reason for the pain, the pathos, and the agony.
I also pray that they never utter the words "I understand", coz they actually don`t , coz they actually never will , coz I fervently hope they never really do ; coz if they do, they would never wanna hear another sappy "I understand".

2008-04-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

Ive always been fascinated by the following lines from the Bible ..

1 Corinthians 13 : The Excellence of Love
Love is patient.. love is kind .. love is not jealous;
love does not brag and is not arrogant.. does not act unbecomingly;
It does not seek its own..is not provoked..
Does not take into account a wrong suffered.. does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;
bears all things..believes all things...hopes all things..endures all things.
Love never fails...

These lines never failed to evince an "awww.. dis is so beautiful", deep within me , when I watched a very young Mandy Moore utter them , in all her earnest fresh-faced innocence in A Walk to Remember..

Someday if I ever get married, I would love to have a very warm lil private ceremony ... dim lights or better still candlelight, amidst orchids and gardenias and carnations , scented air ...ah there I go again :D..
(P.S : We girls are naturals at imagery .... especially when we get tuned into the hush-hush-mush-mush mode )
So where was I ..
Yea.. In that cozy ambience, I`d love to have another lil wedding , a do-it-yourself one.. which would have us taking our vows... and the lines above would be a prelude to this...
Would sure be fun to see the hapless guy all wide-eyed and bewildered with panic alerts going off in his brain ... :D

Funny are the ways we conjure up dreams ... Only to ruefully look back at them not quite coming true ...
And then casually brush off these thoughts as though they never meant much .... or with a shrug, brand them as "day-dreams" , "castles-in-the-air" , "far-fetched"...
And ready urself for the humdrum, named Life ...
Its just another day ...

2008-04-25T09:49:00.000-07:00

Saw Jab We Met for the umpteenth time today ... I never cease to have this very nice feel-good thing every time I watch it...An instant mood uplifter ..when in those typically dour moods..
What I loved most in the film however, was this small one-liner that Kareena utters in the most refreshingly candid way , " Main apni favourite hoon ". Wonder how many people can say that about themselves... Wonder when I would be able to say that about myself ! :)

Sounds, Sights , Smells ....

2008-01-20T13:25:00.000-08:00

I must have been a plump 3-yr old when I was trained to point to the rights places to people asking "Where is your nose, beta?", " Aankh kahan hain, dikhao to?" , "Pinku ke kaan kahan hain ? Dekhen to!" ; and I would proudly point at the right appendages and give Mommy that I-know-it-all-don`t-you-worry smirk.

2 decades later, these organs have given me..umm ....
What do I say ?
Allow me to steer clear of cliches ("windows to the world" and the likes) and share with you a few beautiful treats given to me by these tiny little things.

I love the sounds of ..

The playground of play-schools/primary schools during lunch/recess hours.
A lone bird flying back to its nest way past dusk, calling out to its little ones "Don`t worry , I`ve got your grub".
Dad singing his fave oldies while doing the dishes. (:D)
Di whining on the phone "U never call me, u dont miss me,Im not talking to u..Jao"
Water gurgling through the pipes on my terrace, As I laid back on them watching many a starlit sky.
A group of sparrows arguing over a few grains of scattered cereal.
Mom singing aloud while in the kitchen.
Dhak/Dhol beats during Durga Puja.
Di n Jiju squabbling over who has lost more weight.
Granny singing my fave childhood song in her now quavering voice while oiling my hair.
Gayatri Mantra.
Jingle Bells and Joy to the World.
"Mighty Mighty MIT"
Kids laughing themselves crazy till they fall off their chairs.
The first words of an infant.
Trance, Lounge and House music
The cries of the wild during an overnight stay at the Dak Bunglow of a Forest Reserve.
Drops of water from a leaky tap in a eerily dark and silent night.
I Miss You.
Raindrops on an asbestos roof.
Rustling of leaves in Autumn.
Sitar and Drums.

I love the sights of ....

Sunrise at the beach.
Dad waving out to me amidst scores of unknown people at the Arrival area of B'lore airport,when I go home after a gap of many months.
Confusion on a baby`s face when the whole family surrounds it, each calling out " Idhar aao,mere paas aao".
A couple aglow in love.
2 sisters walking to the bus stop, the older one holding/half-dragging the pesky little one along, grumbling under her breath "Again late for school, jus coz of u".
An elderly couple taking a walk together, looking contented and happy to have the other by their side.
Synchronised Swimming.
Zaheer Khan`s run-up.
Sprinklers in action on a patch of the softest, greenest grass.
Jayanagar`s leafy sidewalks.
My school(s) as I drive past them.
A loved one turning up, when u least expected him/her.
Old family albums.
The yawns of a 2-day old.
Dahlias in full bloom at our house in Ranchi.
Twins, wearing matching clothes, on the ends of a see-saw.
A Huge bar of Toblerone.
Cadbury`s family/celebrations packs with a "For Sweta" tag on it.
Gullus (squirrels) nibbling on their food with huge wide eyes and a motor of a mouth.
The wobbly walk of an infant taking its first steps.
A crumpled 20 rupee note in my backpocket when I wanna have that chocolate and discover I havn`t brought my wallet along.
Bunch of juicy carrots.
A pristine white salwar-kameez.
An old pair of jeans that fit so snug.
Kohl-laden huge bong eyes.
Inexpensive junk jewellery on Jayanagar 4th-Block`s footpaths.
Vast green paddy fields.
Black and white photographs.

I love the smells of ...

The first monsoon shower on parched soil.
Petrol.
A baby`s clothes.
Freshly swabbed floor.
New books.
Pine and eucalyptus trees.
Hill stations.
Filter coffee.
The teak and sal jungles of BIT,Mesra.
Mom`s chicken curry.
Dad`s shirts.
An infant`s hair.
My hair, fresh after a shampoo.
Homemade ghee.
New stationery.
Old spice.
New woollens.
Newly painted room.
My room.

2007-12-28T06:53:00.000-08:00

People here are getting engaged/married at a frightening(for someone like me) pace. Yesterday, I got to know of 2 shockers :
1) Ofcourse, Benazir`s Assassination and
2)my neighbour`s betrothal.
The shock value of the latter wasn`t any lesser than the former.She is known in campus to be one of the happy-go-lucky kinds, someone who was in no mood for any kind of a commitment (the thought of an engagement was enough for her to screw up her nose),someone whose "male-friends" list grossly outnumbered the buddy-list of the same gender (one of the first things looked down upon by prospective maa-in-laws) someone who wanted to travel the world, someone who wanted to meet as many people as she could before she ultimately (she`s all of 25 only!!) settled down with some exotic and tanned hunk of a man.And here she was , flaunting "The Ring", after having met the guy just once before giving her nod of approval, and the lead-time between the family-staged 'girl-meets-boy' ceremony and the engagement ceremony being just 10 days!!
After the customary hugs and congratulatory "Im so happy for you" wishes.I asked her a mellow version of 'How?When?Why?'.To which she replied, "Too rushed up aint it? But you know, all your life you keep waiting for a kinda person you have just dreamt of. You are with other guys and realise they are not that 'dream guy'.You move on.And then you chance upon that person in 'arranged settings' like mine, and you realise in no time that this is the Mr. Right you`ve been wanting to be with all your life till now and want to be with hereon".
Umm...I really din`t know what to make out of it.My being a sucker for romance notwithstanding ,this whole equation of: love-at-first site =>(implies) partners-for-life , was a bit too heavy for me :(
For now, I shall just safely tag along with my long-assumed notion - "During this time of the year; year after year, the unforgiving wintry chills make you wanna be with someone for comfort.Someone to snuggle close to, to feel all warm and cozy ; all of which makes you feel taken-care-of and laziness steps in with its 2 cents and whispers in your ear "This is THE ONE..search no more.."
And the rest as they is another Happily-ever-after(???!!) being crafted at your neighbourhood wedding mandap...

Shocked and Numbed ...

2007-12-27T07:23:00.000-08:00

8 months ago I had written this one mid-summer night,after watching an interestingly intriguing interview; excited and awed by the sheer commanding presence of a charming lady - Benazir Bhutto.
Circa 27th December '07..
A cold wintry evening I enter my room after a backbreaking schedule of a day jampacked with classes..Soni tells me "U wont believe it , Benazir Bhutto is assasinated".....

Shock..awe..anger..disbelief..intense loathing...and a lot many emotions which wont subside for quite sometime to come...

2007-10-26T06:51:00.000-07:00

Came upon this while surfing through rediff`s inane articles...

Eerie..but so very true. It stumped me with the facts , those which I had always chosen to ignore, even though they couldn`t have been more in-your-face in nature.

Cant wait to get Bangalore-d...

2007-10-10T04:51:00.000-07:00

Come Friday , n ill hop-skip my way across the country back home, back to Bangalore. Can`t wait to feel the cool and nippy Autumn breeze, feel the 'Bangalore weather'.4 months away from this place has made me realise how much I miss the place, how unconsciously I had got connected , nay ..hardwired to it.At times I visualize it at this Mother-figure..ever accomodating, ever adjusting.Year after year, it takes into its folds thousands of new faces , which in matter of months show an identical reflection in the mirror-that of a 'Bangalorean'...not a Kannadiga, but a Bangalorean.
One day I sat down to calculate how many persons like me - fresh outta Engg. college and got placed in an organisation located in Bangalore - is this city gonna take in this year.My college alone threw up a number of atleast 300-400.Now, taking into consideration the number of Engg. colleges and the no. of kids graduating out of them every year who either get recruited by companies based here , or come down here to try their luck in the walk-in`s and interviews scene ...wait , I can already see the numbers blurring..Its dizzying, these statistics.Yes, I do agree , the city`s infrastructure has started crumbling under this onslaught.But what I want to highlight is - The way this still-beautiful city welcomes everyone regardless of our ethnicities,mother-tongues etc.I myself am a non-Kannadiga, but I identify with this city, I feel connected to it.And I dare say so would most of the 60% of the population, that co-incidentally is Non-Kannada.Which other capital city can boast of this kind of a balance where the majority of the population is lets say , 'non-prawasi'.Excepting a few sporadic incidents that I know of ,there has been a minimal level of ethnic bias between the various communities that reside here.Any kind of regional/communal clashes (except for the Cauvery issue) is more or less non-existent.One of the safest cities for women, I really like the gender ratio at the major offices where women are not exactly a minority.The best examples would be the PSU`s or Govt. offices where the staff if predominantly female, and ofcourse the familiar faces of the lady-conductors in buses.These are just a few reasons why ,after just a few months of living in this city, I have grown to respect the spirit of this city.
Can`t wait to get back home, home to Namma Bengaluru ...

2007-10-03T15:07:00.001-07:00

Tried my hand at Counter strike today.Mann!! Is it tough to play without a mouse !! Two hours, of gunshots n bombs exploding in my ears, later I realise I absolutely suck at it :( After being crazily addicted to Doom-II not very long ago I thought this would`nt be all that tough.All ambitions of making it to XIMB`s unofficial CS gang, are almost squashed.Had placed a bet with one of "ladki-hoke-CS-Khelegi??" kinds,so ill give the "terrorist" in me another chance though, if for nothing else but proving him wrong.

We went for our first Batch trip yesterday...It was "Legend -wait for it- ary"..(for those uninitiated into the How I met you Mother series, catch a couple of them, and you wont miss those F.R.I.E.N.D.S days nemore).You`ll find me in the jabber-jabber mode about the trip in a later post.Right now Ill just bask in the revival of the batch bonhomie.

One..Two...Three

2007-09-28T14:00:00.000-07:00

It is one of those Friday nights (or should I say the wee hours of a Saturday morning) when I can`t fall asleep even though during the daytime, I can`t stop cribbing aloud about the sleep-hours we are unofficially permitted to have. Perhaps its coz of the lack of deadlines to meet, assignments to be submitted and the likes.N now that I`ve been summer-ed it sure means less of those fish-market GD`s and anxious waitin-for-the-results bit.Now, I know there is a tornado`s worth of all these stuff waitin for me in the coming week(s), but acknowledging the fact that there is no pending work is slightly ..umm....unnerving.Its something like you`ve been longing for that Barbie since times immemorial and now when you finally get to lay your hands on it , u dunno what to do with it.

Neways, here go few of my musings..

- One person, I would love to meet up : Deepika Singh

We happened to get acquainted (online !!) way back in 1999,when email was the coolest thing to happen, thanks to a common friend.A few months later however,we somehow lost touch.A few years, change of email ids, orkut , blogspot and the likes later, I chance upon her blog (thanks to another common friend), which keeps me glued to it for a couple of hours.And then realisation and familiarity dawns upon me ...Small world really !! One person who I had heard a lot about way back in Middle school, and who has quite lived up to the aura, one person who has no qualms anout speaking her mind in a blog which has an enviable number of loyal readers, a person who can make sense in one sentence, and contradict herself in the very next line and make even more sense. Wish He makes more like her ...

- Two countries, I would love to visit : Greece, France

I caught up with a movie (after ages !!) The Sisterhood of the Travelling pants which showed a Greece pretty different than what Chalte Chalte had showcased.It wasn`t Athens, instead it was this little island inhabited by the fishing folk, white houses with blue roofs stright out of a UNICEF postcard, overlooking a harbour with the bluest water,the clear mediterranean skies.The girl actor was one of the most delicate beauties ..the kind you expect to be having "Fragile,to be handled with care" stamped all over her.And the male actor who played a fisherman, was drop dead gorgeous..you know, all those greek guys, described in detail,in those Mills and Boon`s , who make you go weak in your knees with one lopsided grin of theirs.Whew !! I wish my college ties up with some decent Greek B-school,for an exchange program.Ahh ..Life would be beautiful then :).

For me France isnt really synonymous with Paris.I would like to go travelling along its countryside and check out the non-paris part of france.Wanna see how affected (or unaffected , for that matter) the people are of the glamour their country is associated with.Is every french guy, a hunk and girl, a hottie ? The dozen odd french exchange students on campus are like the sweetest people around.The guys albeit a bit lost are cute alright and seem very gung-ho about exploring Exotic-India.

- Three things, Im eagerly looking forward to (in the near future):

1) The OBL or Outbound Learning program : 4 days out in the woods with batchmates, in the peak of the December chills.Trekking,Rock-climbing,Rapelling,river-rafting, Mountain climbing et al.Wait for a post on that.

2) Sleeping : Wish I could just sleep and sleep and sleep without feelin guilty about overstepping the unmarked boundary line of 3-4 hours.

3) Go Home : I don`t think I need to elaborate on this atleast.

All this thought of uninterrupted sleep has started making me feel really cosy and drowsy.I think ill just sign off ...tadaa

Long time ...

2007-09-24T06:26:00.000-07:00

This is my first visit to my own blog in months, and I feel rotten about it. This was a part of my me, an unnatural extension of my identity not very long ago.It was(it still is) "My Space..", how could I have given it the cold shoulder for so long ? But that precisely is why I consider my blog or for that matter a diary the most trusting friend one could ever have.It patiently waits for you to come back to it...never complaining...just hoping through the long silent absences , that you will come back to it.You still find it the same as you had last left it.And the cherry on the icing is, it has no hang-ups whatsoever about welcoming you back plus you are not subjected to a tirade of different forms of "where the hell were you all these days?".But,to come to think of it , Where WAS I all these days ?.It is not as if I was cut off from the virtual world at any point of time.Hell, ALL of the work I do and a major chunk of my studies is done online but still I couldnt spare a few minutes to ponder over how my day was !!
Now, I don`t understand the term 'bored', nor do I relate to people who get bored. There`s just so much to do , so much to soak in, in these 24 hours we are given everyday,and it frustratingly amazes me as to why I couldnt take a few minutes out for myself in these 24 hours multiplied by scores of days.

And I know the answers to all these questions lie within me...but would I take the effort to find them out?

Tagged !!

2007-07-21T14:11:00.000-07:00

Thanks,a tonne Deepika for providing me with something to update my blog with.Many people find it a nuisance but I really was looking forward to being tagged.If not anything else, it gives me a reason to spare a few minutes for myself and actually sit and think about my idiosyncracies which I have so subconsciously driven back to the interiors of my consciousness.

Okay so here go the ground rules :

1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged, write a blog post about their own 8 random things, and post these rules.
3. At the end of your post you need to tag 8 people and include their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.
4. If you fail to do this within eight hours, you will not reach Third Series or attain your most precious goals for at least two more lifetimes .(heh he he!!)

Here I go ...

1)I really can`t take rudeness, intentional or otherwise.We`ve just got so much time with us on this planet, why spend even a few precious minutes in being hurtful and foul-mouthed ?

2)I miss being a part of the Wipro Technologies, Bangalore`s New year celebrations (No,I wasnt an employee.Sis dearest was,n I so waited to tag alongwith her, on the family invite, on every such occasion.)The sole reason being to watch the hotties out there let their hair down.Now, before u try n think about the link ( Wipro Techie = Hottie = ????) I`ll clue you into my definition of a hottie.
Hottie = Guy in a full-sleeved shirt,rolled halfway up, and jeans.Specs r a big YES! Brains in the right place and ever so courteous and chivalrous. Smooth talker with generous flashes of hearty laughs n smiles N did I mention nice strong arms,forearms and squeaky clean fingers n finger nails ?? (Now,now thats quite a list !!)

3) I absolutely loathe to see people smoking !! One of my biggest turnoffs ever ! So,
incase you dont have any particular desire to be disliked by me, kindly don`t lemme find you twirling that death-stick between ur fingers , or worse still dont lemme see you compete with buddies on who can let out that perfect ringlet of smoke !

4)I have this fetish for junk jewellery. Especially earings.I myself am amazed at times at the sheer number of these wicked lil things I own.(Thats one very girlie trait in me, im bashful about :))

5)If you are the kind of person who doesn`t like his/her arm to be pulled or tugged at while walking on a busy road, then do make sure Im not around.Im paranoid about speeding vehicles and have been known to pull people(n have them cast absolutely irritated looks at me in return) to the extremes of sidewalks even when a cycle or a luna is approaching with reasonable speed (doesnt matter from which side it approaches).I bet u don`t wanna know about my antics in case of a huge truck/bus hurtling down the road.

6) I don`t swear and am not exactly best-friends with people who do.So, if u harbour the intention of majorly upsetting me, swear away to glory n I swear I won`t be the least bit inclined to chat u up the next time around.

7) I love squirrels to death!! They are the most amazingly cutest creations of God.I once had a pet squirrel christened Gullu Kishore Bhoi, who sadly ditched me for a cutie of his own species once he 'came of age' :D.I miss all the 'gullus' of Bangalore who used to come and gimme those heart-wrenchingly-cute looks, asking for food.Could sit for hours on end watching them eat those tiny bits of rotis.Im happily guilty of fattening up most of the gullus of my locality and the malnourished look of the gullus of Bhubaneswar hasn`t ceased to pain me ever since I`ve arrived here.

8) I hate littering and hate to see people litter away as if there was no tomorrow.So, if u don`t wanna receive a piece of my mind, kindly keep that candy-wrapper in ur pocket and dispose it off at the nearest Dustbin.C`mon people this is the least bit we can do for our dying planet !

Whew !! I now tag Sculptress, Sarvagya, Byzantine, Saltwater, Uatu
...umm can`t think of anymore names.

2007-06-30T17:03:00.001-07:00

'I tried so hard n got so far,
in the end it doesn`t even matter'

Lines from one of my all-time fave songs , which pretty much sums up my state of mind these days.The hollowness deep within,the disillusionment,the anger,the let-downs et al.Dunno what to expect out of life, out of people.One of those phases when anything and everything seems irrelevant.But like always, I`ll get up,dust myself off the remnants of the past and try and find my way through.For lack of inspiration n coz of no particular desire to air my inner ravings n rantings, I end this post here.

Promise to be back , hopefully soon.

Of Benazir and Feluda

2007-05-28T22:34:00.000-07:00

Tried thinking of a wackier title...But let it not lead you into believing that the lady has started reading the Feluda books while in exile.

Happened to watch Arnab Goswami interview her this weekend.What a lady this one !! What poise and what elegance.If there is any Pakistani leader I`ve cared to listen to, its her.It`s such a welcome relief to hear someone who really wants some semblance of peace in the valley , a far cry from the wily backstabber of a Nawaz Sharif.

The sing-song unmistakable Brit twang notwithstanding (I loathe people who flaunt put-on accents), I found myself sitting through the entire telecast of the interview and finding myself very interested in the upcoming General Elections in Pakistan.

This lady feels so passionately about putting an end to the dictatorial regime that her determination to come down to Pakistan and fight the elections,has to be seen to be believed.Much as I wanted to believe that this is just a power hungry woman who is spouting all those never-implemented election manifesto contents.But that waver in her voice when she said that its inevitable that she`ll be arrested the moment she sets foot in Pakistan,but that wont stop her from coming down,caught me.When told that the people of Pakistan are apprehensive to buy her claims that she would fight the elections from Pakistan,and that she is just a 'Pampered princess' who will back out at the last moment,the lady spoke out 'My father brought me up as a pampered princess ,but it is all about the choices one makes in life.I chose prison ,I chose hardships, and I have chosen the hard way out by standing by my convictions and staying in exile away from my country,my family,my kids,my ailing husband.'This lady has lived through the assassination of her father ,the mental torture meted out to her mother ,the incarceration of her husband,the constant death threats to her kids and loved ones and ofcourse herself and now very well knows the consequences of setting foot in Pakistan.There sure must be a higher motivation than just power-acquisition.
We really do need a few more like her,if not many more.

This is one week ive been looking forward to.Have the possession of all the volumes of the Feluda series and cant wait to start off with them.That twinkle is back in my eyes the smell of new books never fails to conjure.
So, guys wish me Happy Reading !! Tadaaa...

Of Songs and Situations...

2007-05-18T03:32:00.000-07:00

There is this something in certain songs that remind you of some particular stage in your life.Maybe of some bygone era..
As I pack my bags for Manipal, telling myself that this won`t be my last visit to this one place in the world where I could be myself,I do know that the contrary is a distant possibility.More about my Manipal musings in a later post.My 4 years in this place deserves a whole blog, not just a post, to its name..There you go..another marathon post in the offing..
Today as I was getting ready for office 104 FM started playing a couple of Bollywood ditties which took me back by a coupla years.'Waada Raha' from Khaki,this song will always remind me of my first year at Manipal.We were in this triple seater room , Seema,Roopali and yours truly in room 214.Neither of us had computers.I had a run-down Walkman which my sister had so lovingly(casting lethal looks which translated as 'ek scratch aya na ispe to....') given me as I boarded the train from Ranchi.Roops had got along her Philips 2-in-1 which soon became a Room-214 common property.So, in the peak summer months,after those merciless hours at the First Sem workshop, we would trudge back to our room turn the fan`s regulator to its highest speed ,draw the curtains, collapse on our beds (sweaty workshop coats and shoes still on ) and play this very song at its highest volume,while Akka would come to do pocha in our room.By the time she finished her job all 3 of us would be fast asleep , under the combined influence of the song`s melody and the cool,sweet-smelling dampness of the freshly swabbed floor , all at odd angles (my fave posture was my head and torso on the bed, one leg on the window sill and the other away from the bed on the ground...Dont tax ur brains, it is unvisualizable(if such a word exists!)).This song had this enormous capacity of putting us grumbling lot at peace,soothing and mellifluous..
And during those combined Engg. Drawing sessions it was the remix of 'Tu tu hai wohi'(remember that video of a pink clad trio sporting pink guns).All 10 girls of our section would assemble in our room after dinner, with their huge ED boards and drafters and t-squares and squeeze into every available square inch of space.Then we would distribute the Assignment questions amongst ourselves and under Seema-The ED queen`s guidance draw an assortment of lines and solids, till over 4 am.These were those times when we bonded big-time.We dint have fancy cell-phones(those who did, dint have boyfriends on them 24*7 ) or i-pods.We just had ourselves.At one point we would throw our hands up over an impossible figure and would start off about the juiciest bits of gossip about college, passing around Dry-bournvita,Matthri,Achar,Namkeen and even licking clean the 5 Rs worth sachet of Nescafe Powder to keep ourselves awake so that the next day we could proudly proclaim over phone to our parents "Oh Mommie,these profs make us work so hard...Last night I was up till 4 am doing Engg. Drawing assignments ".Even though a year later all of us drifted away to different classrooms for branch specific studies, the memories of these sessions were something we would sit and laugh and talk about for the next 3 years to come.
2nd year It was 'Dhoom Machale' throughout the 3rd sem and 'Kaal Dhamaal' in 4th sem.Blaring out from every door and window of the hostel.Everywhere you go, MIT`s fest Revels or the NITK`s fest ,everyone who could shake a toe was up on stage convulsing to the tune of these songs.
3rd year was Himesh Reshamiyannnnn`s year through and through.'Jhalak dikhlaja','Aashiq Banaya aapne','Tera Suroor' et al.Our mess wale Uncle was such a die-hard fan that the menu for every meal of the day had a Himesh number playing throughout the meal.As though 'Khane ke saath, Himesh ke gaane ,Bilkul muft'.When I thought I could bear it no more,Atif came to rescue.Thankfully, during our end-terms during those night-outs, we heard faint strains of 'Woh Lamhe,woh Baatein' playing from every hostel room that had a computer lodged inside, even from as far as the Boys Hostels.
4th year saw a resurrection of Sufi Music.Kailash Kher loomed large over every speaker,So did the new crowned prince of chartbusters-Atif and the icing on the cake was Strings which performed live during Revels.
During those last days at college,when we had our official photo-shoot for the yearbook,at the impromtptu party that was thrown right after the shoot, I found that song which would remind me of the spirit of MIT-CSE-2k7-Section 'B'.'Kya Mujhe Pyaar hai' reminds me of everything that happened in the confines of our classroom for all the 4 years of Engineering.As we hit the disc clad in our sarees and the guys dressed in smart formals and ties,the significance of the occasion finally dawned upon us. Never again would we party as a class together.Never again would we walk down to an 8 am class, a bunch of sleepyheads.Never again would we collectively curse the teacher who had vowed 'I`ll see to it that none of you pass in microprocessors'. Never again would we come back to manipal together after the sem-breaks...and a whole lot of unsaid,un-thought-about never-agains..
I dunno why I tend to associate only Bollywood numbers to such occasions although a few western numbers figure prominently in my fave songs list.Backstreet boys, N-sync , Linkin park forming an essential part of my teenage; have never managed to conjure up any memory, never reminded me of any occasion or any situation.I havent quite been able to decipher this..
I have had 'Kashmir ki kali hun main mujhse na rootho babuji..' floating in my head during a couple of wicked Lab. vivas, when the teacher-turned-villain would be poring through my observations.I have had 'Rang Barse'and 'Tujhe Dekha to ye jana sanam ' while noting down the measurements in the pipettes and testubes over the bunsen burners in Chemistry Lab, playing in my head.I have had 'Pehla Nasha' strumming through my brain during the initial classes taken by 'Pinky Sir' (He had a huge collection of Pink shirts, had the pinkest lips I`ve seen on a human being and his specs emitted a pinkish glow when he turned towards light).On more than one occasion while I would be writing away furiously in the last few minutes of a semester paper I`ve had 'Chura Liya hai tumne jo dilko' playing loudly at the back of my mind....the list of inane songs related to completely unrelated situations goes on.....Collate them,and there you have the background music of my life...

Is it just me or does stuff like this happen to few of you also ??

Mid-Week Musings

2007-05-11T04:08:00.000-07:00

Ever felt lost and unbearably lonely in a suffocatingly crowded place ? That`s exactly how Im feeling, and have been feeling since this Tuesday.Listless , uninterested , clueless , burned out are a few other adjectives which do justice to explaining my present state of mind.At the risk of sounding overtly dramatic , it feels as though the dementors from Azkaban have come alive out of the Harry Potter series and have sucked me of all happiness...(Hehe..i can be as melodramatic as a girl can be ;) )

And I hate to admit that all this can be caused by the departure of one of few handful of people I really care about in this world.'A' left for the US on wednesday and I really can`t come to terms with the fact that I can get morose over this trivial a thing - It is just an official trip , for God`s sake!! To the point of bunking office for one whole day ,without any rhyme or reason.I can visualize that old adage - 'U never know the value of someone,till u let go' - coming alive.I never thought that I of all people would miss anyone to this extent (I have been infamous for sniggering and giggling when I heard my friends coo 'Baby,I miss u !!' over the phone to their boyfriends).I actually used to think 'What an absolute sissy !!' and considered the MISS-U phrase a highly overrated and over-hyped one.I guess not anymore !! I did believe that in the course of life we do come across someone,where we are putty in their hands.Maybe the reason for my abnormal behaviour is coz I really don`t wanna come across that someone this soon ( Im just 21 !!).Zeroing down on that someone would be such a life-changing (for lack of a better adjective) experience, coz all of ur life that very person alone ,is gonna be 'THE ONE' !! Whew ..!! I think ill just attribute my inexplicable behaviour to the fact that im basically missing those 'Puppy-eyes' and mind-numbing flash of a smile (yeah,yeah these r the very attributes paeaned by the bollywood hero for his lady-love)...

I started reading 'The Namesake', a parting gift by 'A';Which I think is kinda surprisingly thoughtful of him, to have remembered that I wanted to have a go at this book.I had already watched this movie with him last month so I really wasnt hyper-enthu about reading it.But, the jingle that he had composed for me and had scribbled in his child-like scrawl at the back of this book,proved to be the bait.
Jhumpa Lahiri appears to be a sucker for details.This is something that screamed out from every page.Everything about each of the main characters has been detailed out so meticulously throughout the book.The colour of Gogol`s uniform, the skin colour of each of the characters, the thickness of Ashima`s hair and the texture of Sonia`s mane, the fabric of Ashoke`s clothing as he shifts to every different location,which again are carefully detailed out (the rooms,the gadgets,the neighbours).Even the brand of cutlery that exists at the Ganguli`s place and Gogol`s girlfriend`s place is chronicled.She leaves precious little to the reader`s imagination, a trend that she carries over from her Interpreter of Maladies Days .
I feel it must have been both difficult as well as a bit easy for Mira Nair to have thought of making a movie on it.

Easy ,coz most of the stuff is very detailed out, and doesnt need much of a research.The book seems more like a movie-script than a novel.

Difficult, coz it is humanely impossible to cram in all those carefully detailed events in Ashoke`s,Ashima`s and Gogol`s life in a 2.5 hour movie.Expectedly a few relatively insignificant events have not been included in the movie.This oversight kinda shows up in the movie,glaringly in a few places.For starters,I feel the term namesake hasnt been defined well,in the movie, the way it should`ve been.The reasons for Gogol`s aversion towards his daknaam , the tussle within him over his unique name, the underlying pathos over how he struggles to change his name on all official and unofficial records in his first few days of University, the way he cringes everytime he has to write his name in forms,in exam-papers etc ; all this doesnt find a place in the narrative.
I almost forcibly sent my parents to the theatre to watch it bribing them by saying 'Papa, its an art movie,and on top of that a bengali one.You must watch it'.My parents , self-confessed art-movie buffs and having that soft corner for anything bengali, fell for it.On their return, I almost hopped-skipped down to the driveway to know their verdict (As if I myself had acted in it !! lol).I got a noncommittal 'It was nice" from them .On further prodding,Dad said 'It wasnt an art movie.It would be somewhere midway between art and commercial cinema.There were way too many loopholes in it.In art cinema the camera lingers on the protagonist for a nice 3-4 minutes during an important scene, that by the end of it the viewer him/her self kinda starts feeling the suffering/joy or any such emotion.that is the beauty of art cinema.In this movie They makers didnt bother to give a few characters the proper kinda ending they deserved.Character-in-Question Gogol`s girlfriend Maxine.This boy seemed to be so much in love with her and it was a serious relationship , but her track ends abruptly after Ashoke`s death'.Yeah, Dad very true..

But, nevertheless I loved the movie.Mira Nair deserves a pat on her back for having captured the Bengaliness very beautifully and esp. for having casted Irrfan Khan as Ashoke Ganguly.The accent,the look,the absent-minded nature of a Bengali professor, brought out so beautifully that at times i felt like standing up and clapping for this amazing actor.
This movie was very special for me.Infact, after watching it , 'A' and I promptly headed to a nice,cozy Bengali Restaurant '6,Ballygunge place' for a propah Bangali Lunch and promised to celebrate that day,6th April as 'Bengali Divas', year after year.A day which will remind me of my born-in-bengal status, my first movie-watching experience with the cutest bengali to have taken birth , and that very soon I would also have to suffer those I-Miss-you pangs when this cutest-bengali-in-the-world leaves for the Big Apple,just like Ashoke Ganguli did, for earning and learning and leave me yearning....

Old habits die hard..

2007-04-27T05:07:00.000-07:00

These days I`ve been in a fix.Im finding office one queer place.For one Im supposed to call the VP (Vice president ) 'Satyen' ..just Satyen.No Satyen Sir and of course No Satyen Ji.This is something im feeling beastly uncomfortable about.

Ever since I was roughly the size of a Cricket bat (longitudinally!!) , I was taught very lovingly by Mom 'Beta,badon ko kabhi naam se nei bulana chaiye.' So, Dad`s driverji was always 'Kanhar Uncle' or 'Triloki Uncle' ,depending upon where Dad was posted at that point of time.Infact,this instruction was so firmly ingrained in my consciousness that I found myself cringing when I heard statements like 'Mera driver aa jayega...' or when one of closest friends used to say 'Shambhu will drop you,don`t worry'.Eeks I would rather much walk back home from pre-school than hear you 'Shamboo-ing' your driver uncle.At home the domestic help was always 'Lakshmi Didi'.Infact I once gave my own Didi a piece of my mind when she accidently forgot to suffix Didi while calling out to Lakshmi Di.I distinctly remember that my favourite Uncle was someone who used to address everyone with an 'Aap',including his own children.

When our new neighbours moved in,they were this elderly Uncle and Aunty with 2 very handsome young sons,who must have been in their mid 20`s,and a little grand-daughter about half my age at that time.She was promptly inducted into my band of little play-partners ,almost all of them a decent 3-4 yrs younger than me , with whom I used to play Chhupa-Chhupi,Hopscotch till late evenings after school.Now, since she addressed those 2 hunks as Mama , naturally so did I (thankfully, my senses hadnt awakened to their good looks in those days of innocence ;)) .Now, the confusion arose when my Mom started addressing her grandmother as Didi.So, these lads would tease me everyday asking "Hum Mama bane ,ya bhaiya ??" and me poor lil soul all of 6 yrs old would get very confused.

In school,every teacher was Miss ,nevermind her marital status.'Miss Narayan' was my favourite even though she was a much married lady,with a son in a higher grade than mine (and now as i recall,upon whom i had this tiniest crush on :D).When we shifted to another city and I went to Loreto,I came back home after the very first day in school in an incredibly sulky mood.I remember telling Dad "Hume nei jana aise school ko.Pata hai yahan sab ladkiyan Miss ko Naam se pukarti hain.Mrs Sinha,Mrs Bannerjee...No manners!!Aise to Mummy bagal wali aunty ko bulati Hain ..Mrs Kumar karke." Papa just smiled..as usual and 'Koi nei-eed' me.I wasnt convinced and started addressing the teachers by 'Ma`am' which dint last very long and I found myself bowing down to peer pressure and mouthing 'Good Morning Mrs Chatterjee' ...

Every senior in School was 'Didi' and 'Bhaiya'.It was sacrilege if any junior referred to them by their names.In college we were supposed to address the seniors by 'Sir/Maam'.The Sir stuck but the Maam soon transformed to good old 'Di'.I remember when during a smithy session in Workshop at Engg coll. , I was having some problems with the saw.So, I asked one of the foremen to help me out , and I 'Sir-ed ' him much to my friends amusement.After he left,a couple of my friends told me 'Idhar sirf teacher hi Sir hain ,the others are supposed to be addressed as Mr.Venkat, Mr. Kamath etc.' I glowered back at them,not knowing what was I more angry about -asking for help in this supposedly guy-dominated subject (In which I happily managed an A+) or about that piece of advice by my friends.

The shopkeepers,if elderly were either Uncle or Sir(much to my friends` amusement) and if somewhat younger then they were Anna/Boss (even though at times a few of them would get offended by the Uncle or Anna(Bhaiya) and wouldn`t hesitate to state what they took offense at).

I once happened to accompany my friend to her boyfriend`s place for christmas.Both the families were Anglo-Indian and as we entered his house,my friend whispered to me 'Doesn't Diana look lovely in that dress ?'.I assumed Diana must be her boyfriend`s lil kid sister who was running around the hall.But my assumptions were soon shown the door when she hugged her boyfriend`s Mum and said 'Merry Christmas,Diana.You look beautiful'.I stood gaping at her.All the while screaming in my mind 'She could be your future mother-in-law and you`re calling her Dianaaaaa'.I really couldnt get over this for the entire evening.

I remember (with Much fondness!!), when I first got talking with 'A' I used to call him 'Bhaiya' (yeah ! you can laugh out loud :S ), and also took to addressing him 'Aap-Aap Karke'.He was a neat 3.5 years older than me and that qualified him as 'Bhaiya' (though I had anything but sister-like feelings for him! :D).After a few days of gentle entreaties from his side to quit this addressing-mode,one day an exasperated 'A' burst out "I am not your brother,and not interested to be one either ,so will you stop calling me that.And Im not that old u know,so pls from now on stick to 'Tum'".I can just say its almost a year after that outburst and at times i do get these occasional guilt-pangs of 'Tum-ing' him.:D

Now,in the past few months in office im facing this problem of addressing my team-mates by their names.Im supposed to call them just Onkar or Sanjeev or whatever.Now most of them are married a few of them with cute lil school going 'Bitiyas'.I cannot possibly say 'Onkar,could we discuss this issue'.After nth reprimands from him to cut out the 'Sir' , I still havent been able to bring myself to call him Onkar.When I can help it I just quit the addressing part altogether by starting off the conversation with an 'Excuse me..'.

Being a person who always attaches the form of addressing a person,with the amount of respect she has for that person , I really am at a loss about my future course of action , coz in my case old habits dont die hard...they just don`t die at all !!

The haze has lifted...

2007-04-09T06:57:00.001-07:00

Papa bird is back from Gujju land and brought back loadsa goodies for Mama bird and Baby bird and expectedly Baby bird can`t stop hopping and chirping day-in n day-out (much to the consternation of the inmates of the nest !)

As is my wont, I subject him to a ruthless I-need-my-answers Q/A session.Afterall he had been to 'The B-school-IIMA',and committed the heinous crime of not letting me accompany him,so he`s got to pay the price. I had expected to be really morose after this session,thinking about all the stuff I would miss,about not taking another shot at CAT , not giving Sweta-the risk taker,the perseverer another chance.I was ready to retreat back to my shell and brood over my decision of taking up admission at XIMB this year itself and putting a full-stop to my Mission-IIM plans.
Surprisingly, I felt so much lighter at heart and so much more sure of my decision.

The clincher being this..
Apparently , on the other side of the road infront of IIMA,there are these shanty-like temporary dwelling places inhabited by some people who belong to the lesser privileged section of our society.They cook out in the open, take bath in makeshift cabins which do not allow them the privacy this activity warrants, and in fact defecate in full public view too.All of this bang opposite the entrance to the hallowed portals of this premier institute.Infact the picture dad took of these two extremes on opposite sides of the road is quite like those pics which shake up the national consciousness in its entirety..remember the tsunami pic on the India Today cover ?)

On one side of the road,enclosed in those much-talked about brick architecture buildings, the best brains of the country slog away,adding on to their already bountiful knowledge warehouse;On on the other side there are these children who perhaps have never pored into a book, will never know what going to school and exercising their right to education is all about.They will continue to live their lives as wastrels , squabbling with each other for their food,which their mother cooks in unhygienic conditions,which has dust as a major ingredient.

What has IIMA done for these people ? Its not as if they are not aware of their existence.Or perhaps this harsh reality is much to harsh to deal with for those upcoming I-Bankers who pocket 1 crore plus salaries and jet-set away to their glamorous careers. I have the utmost respect for the faculty as well as the students of this arguably most respected educatioal institute of our country but the lack of social responsibility in this particular case is really saddening and disillusioning.

I would rather much head towards XIMB which is known in the B-school arena for its social work initiatives , and the work it is doing for rural upliftment; not just on paper (myself being a witness of many of such projects).Giving back to the society being a part of the Big Picture for this B-school aspirant , I can safely say that the haze of uncertainty that had clouded my thought process has lifted away ...and for good.

Contrasts...

2007-04-03T11:40:00.000-07:00

This Saturday was one of its kind.It went something like this..

While I`m in the middle of a surprisingly uninteresting episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S ,sprawled all over my bed, I get a call from Shreya ‘Hey bhoi ,Me n neha are at monica`s place …thought we would give u a surprise by dropping down at ur place but then mridul had already told u abt our visit I guess…come over we are waiting for u near Shoppers stop !!’ The next 15 mins were spent in chiding myself ‘how could I`ve forgotten about their visit , rushing through a bath and running outta home half pulling on my jeans and half explaining –half gasping out the fone call to mom..

What followed was absolute madcap fun !! Yakking away all those juicy bits of Manipal-gossip in the auto,meeting up Neha and Mridul (the former dressed up in typical behenji style ,courtesy mridul`s pleas ‘Aaj tumhe suit mein dekhne ka bohot mann kar raha hai’) at Brigade Road, half-gobbling half choking on our food while laughing away to tears at Pizza Hut (Man! We are supposed to be Manipal`s Unofficial ambassadors, and we give people the idea that it must be some Zoo or at best a Monkey Reserve)…

A stopover at Monica`s place to celebrate Shreya`s birthday which fell on 1st April (no less!!)…Now this ensured some absolutely desperate bitching sessions,which lasted till well over 5 am in the morning.Loads of cosmo-femina crap and oodles of sighs,giggles, and as-wide-as-saucer shaped looks when the topic veered towards the sexcapades of our batchmates (yeah ! call it vicarious pleasure or whatever !!).All 4 of us(Neha,Shreya,Mon n yours truly) had so much to tell,so much to know,so much to share…all pent up since the last 3.5 months. Bangalore became Manipal ….

Contrast this with today …
It went something like this…

I get up all coughy and sneezy , drop the idea of going for running this morning which leaves me feeling miserable, on top of that having Dad shoot me those smirky I-told-you-so looks.Cook something not-so-nice for Dad`s lunch-box (not the least bit intentionally!) which has got im-not-feeling-good all over the taste option in its profile.See Dad off to office knowing that he will be back after a couple of hours to fly away to that one place I dreamt of going to, for the past 1.5 yrs.Yeah, Daddy dearest was going for a Management Development Programme at IIM,Ahmedabad for 1 whole week and would hear nothing of me bunking office to accompany him.

‘Daddy Daddy plsss take me alongwith u , I promise I wont disturb your schedule at all ..I`ll just roam around the campus to my heart`s content and then we will come back to B`lore and u can pack me off to XIMB for the next 2 yrs’

Daddy Dearest replies- ‘Li`l one if you have the determination ,why not try for IIMB instead of settling down half-heartedly for XIMB.Then u can visit IIMA as many times u like on ur own merit..they have those nice inter IIM meets u know,and those hi profile corporate talks and….’

Stop ..Stop .. I knew where this was going….

Off went Papa Bird leaving Baby bird morose and sullen and incredibly sulky in their nest..

As a last ditch effort to salvage my mood,I put in a lil bit of extra effort while dressing up .My mood lightening up at the prospect of meeting, ‘the other’ most-important-man-in-my-life,after office. I reach office , rushing across to my cubicle passing by a few upturned eyebrows.Workload was considerably light today..i cheerily complete it up thinking ‘I can leave early to catch a show of ‘Namesake’…My fone rings –

‘The other’---‘Hey honey , is it okay if we meet up tomorrow instead of today..was really looking forward to meet u but just now this colleague of mine invited me over for his bday treat..if u want ill drop it , no probs at all ..’

Me-(in my mind-Don`t gimme all that nething-for-u-darling crap…u forget ,I invented dat !! ) aloud- ‘Nah its okayyyy…absolutely..i also have truckloads of work today ( can`t u see the exaggeration ..can`t u just come over!!)..yep lets meet up some other day ….
Slam down the receiver…giving that last hint ..to no avail..

Just then Boss pings me .. and i`m actually handed out a whole bulk of work ..only thing it would start tomorrow…Why Why Why can`t I finish up a part of it today so that im partly relieved today ?? Why can`t I go home with the feeling ‘Yippie tomorrow`s work is all done with today’…

No one to talk to..though I ‘can’ talk to lotsa people..
No one to meet up with …though I ‘can’ meet up lotsa people…

I step outta office (no spring in step!! As they say in motivational books...walk with a spring in ur step ..Duh uh
) and head to the bookstore.The one place which provides me with solace when im in a particularly nasty I-Hate-Everything mood..Its time I brushed up a few fundamentals of Management b4 I enter the b-school … I`m robbed off 400 bucks for that uninteresting looking book (recommended by my would-be b-school seniors) full of oh-so-boring graphs,charts calculations…

Sigh..sigh.. ‘somebody is partying…somebody else is floating about in this book-store All Alone !!’

I ask the sales-boy for a copy of the ‘Namesake’ (had been really wanting to have a go at it ..since ages after having to listen to stuff like-‘ U have`nt read the Namesake and u call urself an avid book lover/reader ..huh’ )..

‘Sab copies khatam …stock over Ma`am’ ...

Damn …..

I storm out clutching that godawfully heavy management tome and trudge back home…

I soon discover no one`s home ..Mom`s taken this temporary freedom of hubby`s-not-home-so-i-can-visit-all-my-girlfriends too seriously and isn`t back home yet..

Now im missing my daddy cum after-office-talkathon-buddy terribly… ‘the significant other’ is stashed away to an insignificant corner of my mind (temporarily though!!)

The fridge is also stocked with such uninteresting edibles that I quickly slam it shut …

Dad texts me ‘ Reached the IIMA campus..the girls here look so much like u’…Now this was really too much to take in a span of less than 24 hours..

I settle down with this very dangerous looking concoction of pista-butterscotch-strawberry mish-mash icecream topped with generous helpfuls of Bournvita ( concocted by your truly !!) and sit down and type all of this out in ..lets see 20 mins flat !!

Feeling much better now…

What can you do about it ?

2007-02-27T05:59:00.000-08:00

I came across this very thought provoking article during my blog-trek this afternoon.It really set me thinking,brooding,contemplating over it for a stretch of a few hours.Thought about sharing it ... So, here goes..

Life sometimes changes its direction in unexpected ways, through an event which seems to be of little importance at the time. It happens to almost everyone and at most times the change is not so much in what we do but rather in how we think about doing things. My life changed the day I decided to skip a movie one pretty Saturday evening and landed up at Janaagraha's office . More about Janaagraha later.

I have been associated with this organization for over four months now , in different programs ranging from public disclosure of BMP's finances to writing articles for their monthly publication. Across the board , a common trend is the lack of enough young people in community related activities. Almost all the people under the age of 35 are college or school students and very few of those are actually working at the local community level. But I live in Bangalore , so I must have missed counting a key segment of the population under 35.

Ahaa , the young professional.Everyone , including John Kerry and a certain George W Bush, knows about the young professional in Bangalore. Highly skilled , well educated , motivated , with a well paying steady (sometimes not so steady) job, unmarried or just married , spotted often at Garuda or Forum or MG Road/Brigade road especially on weekends. Perfect! Only , sometimes I wish Kerry knew a little bit about this professional's city as well.Bangalore sucks! The awful roads , the flooded drains , the incomplete flyovers , the one ways , the smoke , the rising temperature , the electricity and water supply , the this and the that . This list is endless. Often this topic becomes a reason to engage in feel good afternoon banter about the role of a former Prime Minister. But more often than not , the young professional says , "I am unattached, I do not belong here. I abide by law and pay my taxes. I am calm and never get excited(except the one time when I watched Rang De Basanti)". Cynicism , then.

Where does this cynicism come from ? How does it become so all pervasive? Is it part of our genetics or something that I imbibed along the way? To know the answer , I , the young professional need to step back in time , when I was at school. For all the history and civics and other social sciences I crammed up as a kid , was there a single moment I felt that I had a responsibility beyond my house or my school ? A responsibility not to spit my chewing gum on the street , or to keep my neighborhood park clean or to ask my mom not to empty her dustbin in the drain. No , never. If childhood is when I could have learnt to become responsible outside my house and school and my teachers and parents could not teach me such a basic thing , then maybe it is a collective failure. A lost opportunity which may not present itself again. See , it is so easy to be cynical , to blame "the system" . There is a popular phrase for such a thought process : "conventional wisdom" e.g. "the system" is corrupt , "the government" is inefficient, our "cultural values" are different and so on. John Kenneth Galbraith , the renowned American economist , defined conventional wisdom as associating truth with convenience , with what is aligned with our self interest and personal well being or promises best to avoid awkward effort or unwelcome dislocation of life. No wonder , we accept it so comfortably without understanding much about what the "government" or the "system" actually is.

I do not claim to know or understand any of the problems that afflict my city , let alone the solutions.Heck , I don't even claim to know who or what a typical young professional is. But , at a personal level, I have asked this question to myself over and over again in the past few weeks. Should I leave the future of this city in the hands of "the system" and wash my hands off it? With my education , my skills, my ability to reason , my youth and my energy whether all I can do is twiddle my thumbs while the active citizenry comprising of mostly old and retired and some not so fortunate people slug it out in public meetings to solve my day to day problems , go through the budget of the ward works to make sure the drainage is working and ,in general, engage with the government to make Bangalore a better city to live in. I find it very offensive , and downright insulting , when a newly returned Indian (or NRI for the pun inclined) rattles off the list of ills that plague Bangalore and how there is no hope. It definitely helps to know that America took more than 200 years to get where it is today, and NRI's did not have any role to play in that process until the recent past.

In the end , then, the debate rests on a very fine line between whether I just care about this issue and wash it down with regular pepsi at INOX or I am willing to take the extra step and let it agitate the hell out of me. What I eventually do and whether I want to shoot down a defence minister or talk to my ward sabha representative about a flooded drain is a matter of finer and minor detail which , if you believe me , can definitely be sorted out.I am sure each one of us has brilliant ideas and I invite you to generously comment on what I have written and what you think can or should be done about the issue as a whole .Remember , though , if it helps at all , that a doctor treats the disease not just the symptoms. Remember , as well , that this blog is just an effort to let a collective thought process evolve , so what YOU think is most important.

-Author:Bipin Singh

Chef in-the-making...

2007-02-15T08:23:00.000-08:00

God really has his own way of getting people like doing stuff they wouldn’t prefer doing on a normal day. Mom got operated exactly a fortnight ago. Since the operation involved an incision on her right wrist, her right arm was bandaged with strict instructions of resting her arm for atleast a month.

I did spend a couple of sleepless nights figuring out as to who is gonna do the cooking (the rest of the household chores could be shared equally between Dad and me).Thank God, granny was around to initiate me into the kitchen. For someone who could barely make sippable coffee (the colour of the concoction itself, made by yours truly, used to put people off so much that I was very sweetly told not to be seen near the gas stove :D), preparing a proper four-course meal has been quite a journey and to top it all I’ve loved every bit of it.

I absolutely love the way my chappatis turn into a nice circle before I toss it onto the pan, and when they start swelling up (as they should) my spirits soar along with them. I kinda get the same kind of elation as a potter would, when he sees a mound of clay proudly whirring into a beautiful pot on his wheel. All this after many days of producing rotis the shape of the map of India or Asia or many a times North America, made of rock hard dough, as soft as the toughest piece of leather. No one complained (to top it all , Dad even praised the “hard work” behind making it).Then Science came to rescue-Putting more water in the dough will result in fluffy rotis and rotating the belan with the right amount of pressure at one place while flattening the dough gives u nice round rotis.

I now love experimenting with the different varieties of masalas and other condiments, different varieties of oils and sauces. It really amazed me as to how just by altering the quantities of any of these wonderful raw materials we can churn up a new variety of a traditional curry. But the best part of it is, no one gets judgmental and snappy when I goof up- the plus points of being a late and unlikely beginner.

I still remember the tiffs I used to have with Mom when she wanted to watch Khana Khazana , and I would get all worked up and sulky and would hear none of her pleas. Now, I kinda linger on when a cookery-show comes my way while surfing channels on the television. The result being – I can rustle up a neat Italian omelette called frittata whenever I feel like having something out of the ordinary.

Now, I`m really hooked onto my time in the kitchen at the stove,or at the oven or at the mixie and the joy gets doubled when I see Dad,Mom or Granny lapping up my indigenous creations.I just wish I had some more time ,what with internship and GD preparation taking up most of it, to indulge in this new-found indulgence.

People say ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’; why keep the ladies out of it, I’d say the way to anyone’s heart is through his/her stomach. Not convinced? Just step into the kitchen and find out for yourself.

The year that was.....

2007-01-12T22:32:00.000-08:00

I`ve always wanted to believe dat I had a multiple personality boon(yep I refuse to call it a disorder..its way too exciting to be branded as a syndrome… too much of inspiration drawn from Tell me your dreams, I believe)..today I give the ‘retrospective one’ a chance to rise and shine forth (dis is dat one time every year when this personality gets a lot of importance…being content remaining in the wings for the better part of the year)...

What was year 2006 like …Was it Special ? Disastrous ? Satisfying ? Frustrating ? Overwhelming ?....What adjective do I pin down this year with in the diary of my life…

There were quite a few very memorable moments and others of deep anguish as well…

Flashback-December 31st 2005
A New Year`s Eve party at my colony on a chilly Bangalore night. It was an out and out couples special. My newly married sis with bro-in-law in tow ,smiling away,Uncles and aunties gobbling up the lavish spread of dishes and watching da kids playing nearby,groups of young couples engrossed in animated discussions, and of course Mum and Dad glowing with their new found In-laws status and mingling around…. I felt kinda lost in all this bonhomie…shivering in the cold while others basked in the warmth of each others company…what was I doing out there?? My participation limited to taking pics of Didi-Jiju and Mum and Dad putting their best foot forward in the various couples special games that were organized…
As the countdown started to usher the New Year in …one of the things I hoped for was to do away with this feeling of emptiness within….Little did I know what this year had in store for me …

It wasn’t a very eventful year …But those events which do show promise of shaping up the course of my life are but a couple…

The first being a personal high and soon after followed by a very unexpected professional high…

April 30th 2006 … (in the midst of the grueling 6th SEM exams…no less) the almighty granted me that wish which I had so subconsciously made on New Year’s Eve. I wouldn’t say I met the guy of my dreams (prototypes of abhishek bachan-lookalikes sweating away at Fermi labs or some cute nerdy scientist are the kinda guys who frequent my dreams ),who swept me off my feet …nah, I guess im way too guarded to spout clichés like that. But yes, I got the right kinda vibes from a very genuine person with whom it has been a joy ride till now…touchwood !!

Then came the day when I got to know how it feels to call home and announce... “Daddy, I got placed”…Your first job offer…

May 22nd 2006…It was placement time at college and the biggies came calling just before college closed down for the summer break … On a whim I had decided that I wont sit for The Big Three … companies T,I and W and thereby dint register myself for them….Despite immense cajoling from friends to atleast appear for the written test for T , I stubbornly refused to give in and launched myself into a marathon Erich Segal books-reading-spree…On that balmy Monday morning as I was deep into Erich Segal`s Acts of Faith and mulling over the lives of Jews, Israel , the holocaust and the like (alone in my hostel room … roomies dearests had gone to attend the pre-placement-talk of company ‘I’)…I got a call from Manish …”Sweta, come fast …the ‘I’ ppl are allowing students to give the written test those who haven’t registered also….just come down to college asap”…I dunno what made me get up like a zombie from my cozy bed, get ready and reach college armed with just a pen.As I sat down in my allotted seat in the written test hall…I asked myself what was I doing here…with zilch preparation and not having attended the PPT, "what am I doing in this hall…" just then a guy from ‘I’ asks…

‘Gimme your resume’
‘I don’t have one sir’
‘Okay gimme a copy of your marksheet’
‘I haven’t brought one sir’
‘Do you have a passport-sized photo of yours atleast??’ (bordering on exasperation..)
‘Im sorry sir ,but I don’t have one right now’..

He smiles …a sarcastic one at that…”okay, I don’t think I should but im allowing you to write the test, good luck and get the necessary documents for the interview ” ( I bet he was dying to add..’If at all you manage to clear this written test’)….
I hurried through the test and rushed back to the hostel where Neha dearest typed out a make-shift resume as I dictated out its contents while I was getting ready…My wingies who dropped by were zapped to find me getting ready for the interview …”Werent you roaming around in the hostel in the morning…when did you scoot off for the test ??”,”But how are you gonna face the interview … you hadn’t even started preparing for placements”….these were just few of the questions…as Neha went to get my resume and marksheet printed…I brought out my albums and hunted for a decent pic which I could cut my foto out from…this would serve as the passport size photo…
I set out to college with mixed feelings….what if I haven’t cleared the written stage ??..what the heck …Ill get back to finishing that novel .On reaching college im informed that I am selected for the interviews… the first words that rang in my head were “Damn, dat novel will have to wait”…After a wait of three hours im ushered into the interview room…
“Wow, cute guy….even if I don’t get through it`ll be nice chatting with him”…now when I reminisce ,I really cant fathom how these words could arise in my mind when I was facing the first job interview of my life…
A barrage technical questions…some puzzles and a few other company related questions later …im asked “So sweta , what do u think about the PPT given today morning??”.... Now how was I to reveal .."sir, when you people were giving that ppt today morning I was downing masala dosa and idlis in the mess"...I flash my best smile and say “It was a very informative one sir and very impressive too” and start sending SOS signals to God. “God, please don’t let him quiz me on the ppt, pl God….please”…and before I know it the interviewer gives me a rare dimpled smile and extends his hand …”It was nice meeting you sweta. Welcome to ‘I’”….I shake his hands and come out of the room… knowing deep within that perhaps I`ve made it….
I come back to the hostel …freshen up and at midnight head back to college to know the result…
There, huddled among a coupla hundred hopefuls ,I stand waiting …
Then the ‘I’ people emerge …hey that’s my interviewer making the announcements … now starts a steady stream of names being called out of those who have made it…somewhere down the middle of it he looks up from the paper smiles at my direction and calls out “sweta bhoi”….
Im numb for a while…friends hugging me …some others shaking my hands like maniacs …all this doesn’t register within me for sometime…
I somehow disengage myself from the crowd and make that call…
“Daddy, I got placed ...."

Of weddings and wedded bliss....(part 2)

2006-08-16T23:26:00.000-07:00

Well the big day arrives sooner than expected and ur a witness to something called –a union of 2 souls, in poetic terminology and The Great Indian Wedding in journalist-lingo.
The bride,groom and their respective parents are supposed to fast for the entire day.Poor things!! As if letting go of their single status for life ( or officially bading goodbye to the apple-of-their-eyes of a daughter,whichever is applicable), isn’t enough of a punishment that they have to subject themselves to this torture of abstaining themselves from the delicacies which are churned out at regular intervals from the wedding-special kitchen.
Fast forward to the Baraat Scene …..
Here u find friends of the groom and friends-of-friends-of-friends of the groom dancing to 1970`s dance numbers in such enthusiasm as though celebrating the line replaying in their minds - ek aur bakra jaa raha hai halaal hone !! And about the dance…ahem..the less said the better.The way their bodies convulse and gyrate to the beats of Do ghoont mujhe bhi pilade sharabi could make even Helen and of late Rakhi Sawant marvel. The dance moves are so unique that they have spawned a genre of their own –Baraat Dancing.
The same guys who haven’t had a flexible bone in their body since birth display such amazing jhatkas and matkas that it would put any seasoned Bollywood choreographer to shame.Respectable IIT grads and IIM groomed sophisticos dancing with such gay abandon, some enacting a dance sequence straight out of the 80`s flick Nagin and others hopping and twisting around as though they have ants and grasshoppers up their trousers….u have it all infront of ur eyes.
Now to the Mandap scene…
This is a personal favourite.Right from the Jaimaal thingy (which has the groom standing up ramrod-straight so that the poor vertically challenged(exceptions are rare) pretty and petite bride has to seek the help of her brothers to lift her up,to garland the groom who will now playfully bend low), to the pheras, I find all these customs very sweet and extremely romantic.Imagine having to exchange vachans like- “I promise to keep my wife very happy and give her all the pleasures in life”,”I promise to cook for my husband and be by his side through thick and thin”,”I promise to give my entire salary to my wife (yes its hilarious but true  )”..keeping our individual idiosyncrasies aside,aren’t these promises kinda cute?!! Customs like the opening of the “ hathganthi” (this is an elaborate apna-pyara-Oriya custom of the bride`s sister opening the knot which ties the bride and groom`s hands during kanyadaan, upon which she can demand any gift in cash or kind and the grooms` side is obliged to give it..aint` that cool!!) and “Shubh drishti” ( a Bengali custom in which the bride is taken around the groom in a platform kind of a thing held by her brothers and on its completion, sees the groom through betel-leaves held by her) are my all-time faves.

Now lets zoom into the much awaited Vidaai Scene (the videographers delight)…
Here you find the relatives of the Bride crying and howling with all their might at the thought of letting go of their darling beti (even though she might be moving into a house just a few blocks away).U cant help but be amused at seeing old grannys and very-distant relatives shedding copious tears for someone whom they had last seen as a 5 year old girl.More often than not the person who cries the most is the bride`s mom (to the point of fainting.Brilliant example-my mom at my sister`s vidaai) second only to the bride herself,who if very exhausted,may skip the crying thing altogether( for fear of ruining the carefully mascaraed,eyeshadowed and lined eye-makeup.Not a very good example-my sis who kept crying in spurts …u know crying for a few minutes and then getting confused whether she should keep on crying or was it time to stop and refresh her makeup).I remember my sis being reminded again and again the night before the wedding to shed generous amounts of tears so that the photos look …well very vidaai-vidaai.She knew Jiju a coupla months before she got married (they had gone through the phase of the parents-permitted-and-encouraged dating, in the intervening period between their engagement and marriage, on a daily basis) so she was pretty confused as to why was she supposed to cry so much that it would make Jiju seem to be like some Ravan incarnate, whisking her away.
One of the sweetest things in a newly married girl is the way she looks with all her new accessories in place.Alongwith the unmistakable glow on her face,a glittering black beaded and gold mangalsutra,the generously applied sindoor on her forehead, red glass bangles on her wrists at all times,toe-rings et al.She will take an hour and a half to drape a saree by herself and the poor groom has got to pretend that he is absolutely okay with this delay and mutter something in appreciation at the way she looks (even if he`s thinking “Big deal!! She used to look better in her skirts and dresses before marriage”).
After all the marriage ceremonies are over and people r done with the numerous receptions,it comes to setting up a home for the newly-married couple.This can be the phase which can be really annoying for us girls because men as bachelors are used to staying in a pigsty of a bachelors` pad.Clothes strewn about (even atop the fridge and television),shoes sometimes on the Computer table,mismatched cutlery(If there exists any,that is),brooms placed strategically near the pillow of the bed,wet towels on the bathroom floor,toothpaste tubes with their caps missing, cellotaped legs of plastic chairs, a centimeter thick layer of dust on the racks and shelves ….all of this and much more.And the girl who is just out of the cozy confines of her parents` place can often be seen to burst into a huge fountain of tears at inopportune moments.Poor girl,the shock of having to lead a life without mom by her side isn’t` over yet, that she is subjected to the most disorganized way of living and the frightening prospect of living like this for a lifetime.Well , they come to a truce (as my jiju did by giving up 2 of his shelves to my sister to stock her ever-growing stock of cosmetics and hair-accessories and keeping his displaced shirts and trousers in the drawer meant for shoes!!) and the girl comes to terms with having to keep numerous fasts for the long life of hubby-dearest and Hubby`s-family-dearest (??!!).
Life then becomes a routine.For example my Di and Jiju yet again.A DINK-Double Income No Kids- couple (currently in their 8th month of married life).Ill try to reproduce my Jiju`s Statements verbatim- “U know pinks,life has become so mundane .We get up at 7 in the morning,go through the drill of getting ready,rush through our breakfast.Then I drop her at her workplace and come to my office and prepare to work like a maniac till 8 pm till a small alarm goes off in my head that I`ve to go pick her up.We are back home by 9 and then both of us try to rustle up a decent dinner in a couple of hours meanwhile filling each other up on the day`s details.Have dinner and goto sleep thoroughly exhausted”. I say “ Jiju u guys really have a sad life.Or rather no life at all.Poor u,poor Di”.
And then Jiju stumps me with his reply- “No pinks,not at all.Sometimes domesticity may not agree with me or ur sis,but we have found a strange kind of happiness and contentment in this monotonocity.U won`t understand it right now,but the feeling of coming home to/with someone is undescribably satisfying.We are sharing our lives with each other and trust me we are loving each moment of it.”.
I look at my my sister and find her listening intently and looking indulgently at Jiju.
I guess this is what many people aspire in a marriage but very few get blessed with it.
People call it Contentment ,others call it Happiness ; I choose to call it –Wedded Bliss.

What say guys??!!

Of weddings and wedded bliss....(part 1)

2006-08-16T23:08:00.000-07:00

I dunno why I chose to write on this topic on this cool,windy monsoon afternoon when what I should actually be doing is , pull out my blanket and mulmul chaddars from my trunk, put on some soft ambient lounge tracks on this lappy (which sadly can`t protest when I open it in this kinda climatic conditions n open microsoft word while it dreads being subjected to a marathon typing spree, thanks to it being an inanimate,non-living object ) and taking inspiration from my roommates (who r curled up in yogic sleeping postures ), should prepare myself for an extended siesta.
Perhaps I can attribute this behaviour of mine to last night`s all-girls`- adda session where we all (12-15 of us) huddled infront of a comp (wishing that it would magically enlarge its proportions from a measly 17” monitor to a more suitable 29” ) watching the wedding video and photos of my friend (lets name her ‘J’) and wingie who got married this summer.
There was something about those photographs which brought a smile on each of our faces everytime a new pic flashed on the monitor.The colour of all those pics were predominantly magenta,orange,hues of gold and silver and of course the obvious-Red, with splashes of rich shades of green,purple and turquoise thrown in.The pics were such happy ones filled with smiling people;overweight aunties in their best kanjeevaram brocades and silks,balding uncles in smartly-tailored-to-hide-paunches suits,young girls in embroidered lehengas and salwar-kameezes and the baraat guys in blazers (even though it was a summer wedding !) and sherwanis.I often feel if u have to show a firang something which can cast a lasting impression of India on his mind,then show him the pics of a typical Indian wedding or better still a live version of The Great Indian Wedding Extravaganza.The oft-repeated phrases of “Indian Culture and Traditions” would literally come alive and speak for themselves.
I`ve personally been very unlucky of not having been able to attend a single family wedding till last year,which was when I was right in the middle of my dear didi`s wedding.Right from the sending-of-invites,shopping excursions phase to the vidai and subsequent hosting of receptions(a total of 5 ! whew!!), I saw and co-managed it all.That was when the enormous significance of the term ‘Marriage’ dawned upon me.

One thing I really like about Indian weddings is-its ritualistic nature.Yes,it might seem surprising and very off-putting to most of u,but I think each of the rituals involved have an old-worldly charm of their own.Different communities,different rituals; and different ways of conducting similar rituals.For example the Punjabi bride dressed in colours of Red and Gold, comes to the Jaimaal stage accompanied by her brothers who hold aloft a phoolon ka chaddar ,while a Gujju bride will don a Red and white saree or lehenga.A mandatory accessory for a U.P bride is an enormous nath (or nosering which I find amazingly sensuous) while for a Punjabi would-be bride it’s the chuda (Red and ivory bangles).For a Bong bou it’s the shakha-polla (red and white bangles again but made of glass and shells ) and I guess for every bride the presence of squiggly,round rings on her toes.

For the young folk its mainly the pre-wedding rituals which are more of fun than the D-Day itself (what with most of the weddings going on till the wee hours of the morning!). The haldi,mehendi,sangeet ceremonies are like little family get-togethers where u get awakened to the presence of other cute looking guys in ur community and where moti aunties-turned-matchmakers pester u with envelopes full of eligible (but mostly dumb looking) guys` photos and biodatas and tell u a 101 advantages of tying the knot early in life.But u r subjected to all this only if u fall under the unfortunate age-group of 18-24.For the lucky ones aged 17 and below, ur free to bitch and gossip together in groups and decide on mehendi designs,nail-paint and lipstick shades for the D-day and of course the cut and style of ur lehenga and the embroidery on ur choli which you`ll be wearing for the wedding.But if ur not so lucky then u might be sent on never ending trips to the kitchen to get rooh-afza or tropicana or whatever and mithai and serve the guests who keep on flowing in from morning and don’t show any signs of flowing out (yes,if it reminds u of a typical example of a sink (yes the physics wala sink u moron!) ,ur very right!!).

Birthday

2006-07-14T01:38:00.000-07:00

The cool breeze fondly caresses me as I sit on the rocks and watch the waves come close and recede back again in a rhythmic cycle.This place has become my favourite retreat since many days.Away from the maddening crowds and worries of daily life,this is the place where I connect with the remaining vestiges of my privacy and inner calm.

The invigorating evening breeze of the Arabian Sea envelopes me and I am transported back into my own little world.All the eighteen eventful years of my life seem to be restaged in front of my eyes…

I see myself in two ribboned pigtails and a frilly pink frock surrounded by tiny tots in party hats running around and Mom and Dad looking down lovingly at me as I blow out the candles on the birthday cake on my third birthday….

I see myself wailing hysterically as Daddy drops me to school for the first time,holding on to my Mom`s saree with all the might a four year old can gather.Looking at them pleadingly,tears streaming down my plump rosy cheeks,begging them not to leave me alone in that unfamiliar world.These were the first pangs of separation which would pave the way for many more…

I see myself making new friends , playing ring-a-ring-of-roses, fighting mock sword-fights with rulers and pencils as swords, roting A-Z and 1-100 and often mixing up the order in the process….

I see myself graduating to multiplication tables,geometry,battles and invaders and world maps,waiting for that huge cone of ice-cream Daddy gives me the day my report cards come home….

I see myself taking the oath , at the school investiture ceremony as my principal pins the ‘School Captain’ badge onto my lapels…

Im shaken out of my reverie by a sudden spray of salty water.The water is now lapping at my ankles.I again delve into those magical memories…

Dad holding my hand,helping me take my first unsteady steps.Mom beaming down at me as I top my grade in school.Getting rapped on the knuckles for playing Antakshari in class…playing basketball in the rain with friends…holding aloft the trophy for the best inter-school essayist .Cheering along in my living room during India-Pakistan cricket matches…that first crush over the handsome and stylish sports captain in school . Laughing and crying with my buddies at the school farewell,sleeping with the snap of my favourite cricket star under my pillow , slogging it out for the board exams in group study sessions well into the night over endless cups of coffee. Freaking out the day the board exams got over, vacations with cousins, sharing our most guarded secrets, anxious moments in the dead of the night before the results come out…tears of happiness on knowing that I am among the toppers.Watching my parents glow with silent pride as they inform others of my success…hugging my best friend as our career pursuits take us apart.The first experience of ragging as I enter junior college,giving proxy attendance for classmates in weird voices, bunking classes to catch the latest Karan Johar weepie. Studying life sciences with a vengeance while dreaming of donning the spotless white scrubs and togs of a medico,writing numerous exams to gain admission to my chosen medical colleges…and the pleasant shock on knowing that I have been accepted by a premier medical college and that I am another step closer to my long nurtured dream. Agonising pangs of separation and homesickness as I wave goodbye to my parents,preparing for my first taste of hostel life. My first steps into the hallowed institution, trying my level best not to throw up at the first dissection session, burning with fever as my friends get me admitted into the ward alongside the patients who are my case studies,that phone call from the hospital to my parents….

The train of flashbacks comes to a screeching halt here.It is 11:25 pm,a few minutes to go before my nineteenth birthday steps in.I find myself shivering as the blue and white hospital gown flaps gently in the wind. From an aspiring oncologist, I am reduced to a patient in the last stages of a debilitating ailment –leaukaemia. My body is weary from months of chemotherapy and radiation sessions. Mom and Dad put up a brave front but they appear to have aged by many years in the past few months,watching their daughter waste away in front of their own eyes. My sister fills me in on what`s happening in the world outside and we still have our heart-to-heart sibling chat sessions. She jokes about how she would like to trade places with me …be pampered silly…get all the care and attention I have been getting…But many a time I have heard her sobbing softly against the pillow while pretending to be asleep…

I can hear the bells of a faraway church peal. The vast expanse of water suddenly seems to be beckoning me. Those mountains of waves awash in silvery moonlight seem to be calling me to their folds, promising me glimpses of a life beyond. I find myself rising to my feet and walking into the water like a zombie, trying to fathom what lies ahead. I stop for a moment and tuen back, trying to figure out where to welcome my birthday-in the real world or the ethereal. Subconsciously I turn around and trudge aong my way deep into the water.

A blinding flash sears across my mind. I see Mom,Dad and sis beseeching me to come back to them with tearful eyes. I spin around but there is no one there. Just the waves crashing onto the rocks. Is this their identity…? To surge ahead, answering the clarion call of those proud stone giants…and then breathe their last at the feet of those rocks….scatter away into oblivion. But wait…are they not weakening those black monoliths little by little , destroying their pride…corroding them bit by bit.The battle continues till eternity.I suddenly feel lighter and warmer.The waves and rocks have taught me a great deal in their own silent way.

I feel a strength building up inside me. I pledge to fight- fight to retain my sanity and my pride. Warriors die but they die a hero`s death…

I see Dad coming to fetch me. The church clock strikes twelve. I run upto him and hug him tight. “Happy Birthday , my little angel ! What happened darling ? How did you get wet ?” “Nothing Daddy, I`m dying to meet Mom n Di. Please take me home.”
I am reborn again on my birthday…It is my birthday in the truest sense….

To new beginnings.....(part 2)

2006-06-25T04:58:00.000-07:00

“Where did I go wrong ?….Where the hell did I go wrong ?” ,was all Rohan could think of for the next couple of weeks.He absented himself from the hospital for 2 whole days.All he did was cry his heart out till his body was drained out of liquid.As he drifted through his work after joining back (after repeated phone calls from the hospital)he could just think of one thing-“They betrayed me…One my best friend…. another my love.The 2 people who meant the most to him…They backstabbed him…Why ? Why me? Why did this have to happen to me?…He kept asking the almighty who offered no replies.
He plunged himself in his work completely.Lost track of day and night.Latenight shifts,overnight stays at the hospital for emergencies… He went through it all like a zombie.All the while trying to find a plausible answer for his inner turmoil in his work.

His state of mind wasn’t unknown from his boss the good old head surgeon,who was perturbed by this sudden change that had come upon his favourite boy.”Its all due to the work pressure,this guy needs a break”.And he would see to it that the break was a good long one.
“Son,As u know due to the ongoing communal unrest in Iraq,many well-qualified medicos r fleeing that country in search of greener pastures.There is an acute shortage of good doctors there.We have been receiving constant requests to send a few medical assistance teams to help them out in these hard times.You need a break from this place my boy,so I thought of sending u as a leader of the the Indian Medical Assistance Team.Your security will be one of their topmost priority and I am quite satisfied with the security arrangements…What do u say son?.Rohan just nodded his head in acceptance,with the same glassy-eyed look on his face.The place didn`t matter to him,nor did the challenges…Infact nothing mattered to him anymore….

He boarded the special plane to Baghdad the very next day.As he gazed out at those cumulo-nimbus fluffy clouds he saw Ruheen`s face in them.Ruheen, coyly telling him about the man in her life-which was not him.The very thought of it was like a painful stab in the heart.Why was it so difficult for him to put all that behind him?These very thoughts had haunted him every night…Is he going to allow them to haunt him forever? Was he among the weak-hearted…? As the plane readied for touchdown in this alien country,he promised to himself that he was going to come out of it.The sooner the better and he silently thanked his boss to have sent him away from that land….Her land.

His very first patient was a bright young lad barely out of his teens who had come for a full-body medical check-up.As both of them went through the procedure the guy chatted him up asking the same old questions about `Exotic India’…Getting irritated,he was just about to ask him to keep quiet when the boy remarked “Ive heard ur girls are pretty,but ours are much prettier anyday”.Rohan smiled at this repartee.Perhaps the first smile after ages.”Whats ur name n why this full-body checkup?” he asked that guy.”Im rashid n im enlisting myself in the military ranks.It takes guts to do that dude”he replied as he playfully punched Rohan.Rohan took an instant liking for that guy.His childlike antics n witty repartees put him at ease in this seemingly hostile country.But he couldn’t fail noticing the sadness in rashids hazel-brown eyes.As Rashid was leaving he invited him over his place. “Please be my guest tonight for dinner at my place.Its just the two of us Rehana,that’s my sister and a damn good cook n and poor old me.I can fill u up on this place n u can tell me about ur land.You will be missing something I tell u, if u miss out on Rehana`s special kebabs”.Rohan found himself accepting the invitation-with a smile.As he escorted Rashid towards the door he saw a veiled woman waiting for Rashid.as she looked up from within her veil, he could see only her strikingly beautiful kohl-laden eyes peering out from the black cloth.It seemed as though his own sadness was reflected in those clear limpid eyes.He sensed a faint stirring from within.

That night after they sat down with drinks after a sumptuous Arabian meal,the best he had had in a long time,Rashid seemed to be in a mood to talk.”U know Roan(he had this endearing lisp while uttering Rohan`s name) my friend im just nineteen.Never been to college.But yes,im going to war.Why,With whom,I just have a faint idea.U know Roan, Rehana here has never been to school.”Rohan looked over at Rehana clearing the table.She dint have her veil on and Rohan suddenly realized how stunning she was.Flawless alabaster skin with sooty black eyes and long coal black tresses framing her pixie face.He again felt that now familiar stirring in his heart.This time stronger.Rashid went on after having helped himself to another glass.”I and rehana were orphaned when we were mere toddlers when our father was killed infront of our eyes during a guerrilla unrest.Our mother could not take up the responsibility of bringing us up and ended her life by putting herself on fire.I can still see her flailing her arms as she went up in flames in that very kitchen”.Rohan could hear sobs.He looked back at Rehana,weeping .Rohan`s heart went out for her.But he was totally gripped by Rashids story.He was all ears as Rashid carried on.”I used to idolize imran khan and that Tendulkar of your country.Dreamt of being a great cricketer and wield the bat and bring laurels for my country.All my dreams came crashing down the day abbu was killed.They thrust an ak-47 into my hands instead of a cricket bat.On top of that the added responsibility of providing for Rehana.I was just 10 at that time n Rehana a mere 7.I loved to sketch and paint but those heartless guerrillas used to laugh and mock at me.I quit that and something inside me also died out.I realized I was also becoming one of them.Was I actually destined to be one?The sound of air-raid sirens and the smell of rotting flesh,these are part of my daily life.Is there a life beyond all this?Your life seems to be so glossy,so beautifuland so unreal.Why did u come here my friend?To witness this misery,this bloodshed?I think I have resigned myself to destiny.Maybe I was born,jus to be slaughtered like my fellowmen and end up just as a statistical figure,when people count those dead after any such mass killings.All I worry about is my Rehana.She does not deserve this Roan.She already has seen enough bloodshed to last for 7 lives.She is jus a 16-year old,has a whole life ahead of her.I want her to believe in the good things,the beautiful things whose existence she still isn’t aware of,in life.”At this point Rehana came and hugged her brother.As they both hugged and wept their miseries out,Rohan suddenly felt as though a huge burden was lifted from his heart.The pain,that silent suffering now seemed so inconsequential infront of their agonizing pain.He should be thankful to the almighty to have blessed him with a good life,in which he had access to all the good things of life, till now.

As he trudged his way back to the quarters,where he was put up,later that night,the panorama of his life unfolded in flashes before him.It had been a smooth journey full of personal and professional highs.a fun-filled childhood,eventful adolescence and a rewarding college life.The void and grief in his life,brought about by the absence of love,which had till now seemd profoundly huge seemed to have paled in comparison.His thoughts were broken by a sudden outburst of gunshots somewhere nearby.

As he ran all the way to his room,he could still hear the gut-wrenching cries.Cries of men getting wounded,of men getting killed,of men wounding and killing their very own kin.Agonizing cries of help echoed in the eerie stillness of the night.
A cry rang out which brought about a shudder in him.It sounded familiar.Rohan was filled with a terrible sense of foreboding,as he ran out into the open.
What he saw made his insides cold.There was rashid,lying in a pool of blood in a trench.rehana by his side crying her heart out.He couldn’t help but notice that she was without her ‘hijab’.Outlined against athe moonlit skies,the very picture of beauty,vulnerability,purity,untold sorrow.As he saw his friend taking the last few breaths of his life,he just couldn’t help breaking into unstoppable tears,tears he thought had dried up long ago.

Rashid placed Rehanas hand in his and made an incoherent plea “Take care of her,my little one,my hoor,my everything.She shouldn’t die a death like this.Show her your world,your free world”.and he was gone.Rohan went numb.He had seen many patients die on the operating table before,but never was he so affected by a death.He had known this person for hardly a couple of days ,but he had touched him in a way that was incomprehensible.

He felt a feeling of responsibility surge up within him as he looked at Rehana.That naked agony in her eyes,her melancholy countenance somehow drew him towards her.As he gazed into her blazing eyes,he felt that now familiar stirring within his heart,but now it was stronger,much stronger,stronger than he had ever known or felt…
As he clumsily reached out for her and as they came together in a flood of tears,grief,warmth, apprehension and longing,the realization dawned upon him that at last he had come home,home to a new life,a new beginning….

To new beginnings.....(part 1)

2006-06-24T00:07:00.000-07:00

He checked his reflection for the umpteenth time in the rearview mirror of his newly acquired ford.The sight of this latest acqisition never ceased to fill his heart with pride.” Its my toil and sweat that has given this baby its extra sleek look”, he often mused to himself.

Well,well no time to bask in this glorious sight .Can`t keep ‘her’ waiting.’Her’ as in Ruheen Prakash or is it soon-to-be Mrs Ruheen Mitra.Bull!! Here I go daydreaming again,he thought slamming the car door and fastening his seat belt,as he drove out of the hospital complex.

“Will you be mine,Ruheen?”,”Will you spend the rest of your life with me?” or a straight and simple –“Marry me Ruheen !”----What is it gonna be?? Rohan deliberated over the most crucial line of his life which was to be delivered in less than half an hour.He had googled for the most exquisite solitaire that wouldn’t burn a hole in his pocket(he wanted to surprise Ruheen,a sucker for Yash Chopra movies,with a honeymoon to the swiss alps).He looked over at the lovely bouquet of 14 red roses lying on the backseat .14..The 14 blissful ears of romancing Ruheen (sometimes in his dreams,at other times in his silent,unspoken style) came flooding to his mind.Family-friends,childhood playmates,high school “best-friends”.He always felt that they were made for each other.Rohan & Ruheen…Ruheen & Rohan.And today was the day when he was going to ask his sweetheart to be his forever.God! he could already feel the goosepimples under the sleeves of his carefully ironed silk shirt,at this thought.

Honk!honk!…. Rohan was jolted out of his reverie .Damn! this traffic .when the hell are Bangalore`s roads gonna improve !This was a real dampener for his mood.He checked out the time…”Gosh ! Ruheen must have reached there already.Don’t wanna keep her waiting today …of all days!
His anxiety lasted for 20 minutes more after which nervousness set in as he pulled into the driveway of Barista.”Whats wrong with me?I`ve known her all my life.Bloody hell! Why do I have to sweat at the thought of meeting her today??!!” He tried to assure himself but to no avail.It was then that he spotted her.

There she was, at a corner table.Redolent and resplendent in red.It was now that the thought struck him.”Shouldn’t I have atleast given her a hint earlier?…Atleast have given her a small peek into the feelings I have in store for her…how is she gonna react?His thoughts were broken by the lovely sight of Ruheen flashing that breathtaking smile of hers.But wait a minute that smile was not for him.A wave of jealousy coursed through him as he looked at the object of her attention.He looked familiar…Oh that’s ol` Vicky..as in Dr. Vikram Kapoor…His roommate of 7 yrs..Rohan`s face creased into a broad grin as he remembered those gruelling Med. School days ,of which Vicky was an integral part .He relaxed and joined them at their table,wondering what the hell was he doing here….hope not leaking out his best kept secret to her.

“Hey rohan!! Wassup dude?…Hope dat oldie Mehra isn’t loading u up with those godawful post-mortem cases lately…Vikram laughed n reached out for Ruheen`s hand on the table.She blushed a deep shade of red.It seemed as though her translucent skin reflected the colour of her dress.”What the hell is going on out here…thought a very puzzled Rohan.Nevertheless, he flashed a bright smile “That’s just work guys..I love my work, of whatever nature it may be”,he said as he looked questioningly at Ruheen.She replied by blushing yet again and muttering something like”Where do I start it from” under her breath.”.”Its no use keeping it under wraps any more Rooh,is it? Cmon…”egged on Vicky.

“Okay ...”started Ruheen..”Actually Rohan I`ve been planning to tell you about this since quite sometime now but I myself wasn’t sure about it till about a few minutes ago.Vikram just proposed to me and I..I said yes.”…she said and retrieved her hand from Vikram`s grasp to show him the sinfully huge stone adorning the ring finger of her left hand.Rohan clutched the solitaire in his trouser pocket as he went numb.He could just faintly recollect Ruheen saying..”Thanks so much Rohan, for having introduced me to Vikram.He is such an amazing guy…Keeps me in splits all the time.I just don’t know what would I have done without your help Rohan.You really r my best buddy in the truest sense…Ill always remain indebted to u for giving me the love of my life…".....”

My inaugural post.....

2006-06-21T23:25:00.000-07:00

Well, this was long pending...
Here goes a brief insight into the real me...

Seven things I want to do before I die....

1) Complete my PhD and get the prefix of 'Dr.' before my name
2) Adopt a baby girl and give her a beautiful life
3) Ensure a happy and contented life for my parents
4) Teach children in high school.Preferably in municipal corporation schools where students are practically from slums
5) Be actively involved in an NGO set up for the upliftment of senior citizens or children and really DO something for them
6) Go for scuba-diving,bungee-jumping,parasailing,sky diving and whitewater rafting
7) Build a cosy lil home away from the maddening crowds(complete with puppies and squirrels,hopefully beside a brook)

Seven things I can do.....

1)Be a fun playmate for kids of any age or size :)
2)Burst out laughing at seemingly inane stuff in the company of close chums
3)Sit and laugh and chat about anything and everything with friends for a long long time
4)Put in a sincere and earnest effort for something i really believe in and enjoy doing
5)Be a very good listener
6)Behave like a complete kiddish moron if i know that would bring a smile on a friends face
(moreso if he/she is feeling low)
7)Not talk to the person im upset with for a very long time

Seven things I say the most.....

1) Babyyy
2) Hai Ram! or Hey Bhagwaan! or Baap re!
3) Thank you so much and Im so sorry
4) Please mujhe 23 (or any such weird time duration) minutes mein utha dena.please please please....
5) How sweet is that !!
6) Oh my God..!!
7) Guess what..?

Seven things I cant do....

1) Be rude
2) Feel happy (even when something really good has happened with me)from within
when others around me are not
3) Resist cuddling a cute baby whosoever`s it maybe
4) Make chapattis which have any semblance to the round shape!
5) Keep my room absolutely spick and span for a long time
6) Lie (well innocent white lies,which r for everyone`s good,are exceptions!! :))
7) Take things lightly at all times

Seven things that attract me to the opposite sex......

1) Intelligence - that doesn`t have much to do with bookish knowledge.Really admire well-read guys.
2) Sense of humour - that includes being able to laugh upon his own self
3) Great smile - a genuine one that radiates warmth and mischief
4) Dressing sense - dig the semi formal look in guys.nothing ike a pair of well-worn and well-fitted jeans
with a full-sleeved (sleeves rolled halfway up) shirts
5) Specs - dunno why,but i feel that`s the sexiest accessory ever made for men
6) Hair - nopes,not the streaked,spiked or bleached variety rather the bouncy style.one that bobs up n down
their forehead when they walk.
7) Hands - one of the first things i notice.have an inexplicable fetish for nice strong arms and especially the
fingers and nails(which should be squeaky clean).

Seven celebrity crushes.....

1) Abhishek Bachchan - just love his super-self-assured look..and ofcourse those soulful eyes
2) Shiney Ahuja - this is the latest one.his gaze kills!anyone who has seen gangster will subscribe to that
3) Hrithik Roshan -i musta watched kaho naa..pyaar hai at least 30-35 times...thrice during my 10th board exams!!
4) Will Smith - one of the most gorgeous and genuine actors.was really hitched to watching "Hitch" at one point of time.
5) Muzzamil Ibrahim - that hottie scorching the indian ramp scene
(the 'pardesia' guy...terrible video.terrific looker)
6) Rajyavardhan Singh Rathore - sophistication personified.One of the most dignified as well as attractive sportsmen to have hit the indian sports scene.
7) Zaheer Khan - i used to go all weak-kneed watching his run-ups not very long ago