Serendipity

2010-02-21T07:23:00.000-08:00

Back from Mysore - kuch raas nahi aayi

Two things I like about Mysore
a) My parent's home
b) the beautiful Mysore palace
Apart from these two, I find myself disconnected with the place. Mysore hasn't changed at all from the time I have moved out. All I have in Mysore are the memories and memories make me momentarily happy or sad just like the word "memories" sound and its usage. The road leading to my house appears same, the road leading elsewhere appears same.Only the traffic signals and cafe coffee joints have sprouted here and there but the traffic seems to be as uncivil, haphazard, chaotic mess as it was before and the people have the same small town ego, same body language. Mysore will remain same and it will not change just like the people. I find every one in Mysore familiar even though I haven't seen them before. How uninteresting?
I feel, I know, I cannot belong here anymore. I recently read that Mysore is one of the top best places in the world to visit. I guess people from around the world take Mysore as a living museum where people recreate a time period which is 10 or 20 yrs back.
Can I resettle in Mysore?- I don't want to.

2009-10-08T08:11:00.000-07:00

kinda Unburdening

Going through a sense of fear transforming into utter helplessness and then love and again helplessness and love.
It is a struggle.
While touching the bundle of nerves hanging probably not wanting to get off the hook or just being caring enough to let go hoping not to be a trouble. It was sad.It still is.
Not our fault though and I know you know that.
We also know the void.Void made so evident because I saw you in different forms and many forms, I still see when it is dismal. Seeing it just disappear in the water while I cling for support who is wrecked but calm.Stroking the head and shoulder, every part in the body is in tune with all the senses of the heart, only heart and nothing else.
That was a moment so vivid and at the same time so brief that all one can do to keep it alive is going through that moment while lying on the bed looking out , talking, having a hot shower, having food, chatting with friends, prayers and many many more ways. Everyday.

The shreds, little fragments are a whole in itself and the shred made its presence felt for days, just to get me go on in life and giving me the chance to see.
I see everyday,yes, painful, but will have a moment and share it and keep it...the carefully held moments will enchain us together for life and after life if it exists.We live.

Logic can take its course later.
Instances can solace me later.
Thoughts can come later.

2007-12-27T14:57:00.000-08:00

I have been Tagged Again!

The rules of the tag are:
1. The rules must be mentioned in the beginning of the tag. 2. You must list one fact that is somehow relevant to your life for each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name, use the middle name you would have liked to have had. 3. At the end of your blog post, you need to choose one person for each letter of your middle name to tag. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

Whats in a name, a rose is a rose is a rose. Well whats in a middle name, especially when I don’t have one. So I have decided to use the name TORA. Tiger is called Tora in Japanese.I’m learning Japanese and still at a stage where I can only read and write katakana and hiragana (2 of the three scripts). I could have known much more if I had not missed many classes in a row. And I think I will let go off my Japanese classes. So as a dedication to all the classes I have attended till now. I take the name TORA as my middle name.

Also, the word TORA brings a smile for silly reasons I treasure.

T- Tea and trees and tap dance. I’m not going to divulge about my love for tea here. Trees, then. I love trees lining the roads, trees in the corner of a compound, trees in the middle of the road, trees inside the house, trees at the back of the house, trees next to balcony, trees in the temple, trees anywhere, anykind.Tap dance,mmm I havent learnt how to tap dance.But I have my silly versions of it.I used to tap dance on my way back home from school.I was always happy coming back home from school.:). My sister and I used to continuously tap dance for half an hour without a stop as part of her exercise regime. I just remained fatless for sometime.
I will be sane as long as I could enjoy a tree, tap dance my life away and have a cup of tea whenever I need.

O- Orange,shades of Orange except the flourescent one. You shouldn’t be surpirsed if I wear lot of orange colored fabric.oh yes! You guessed it right. Isnt it obvious? (Hint: You are wrong if you are relating it to some religious bodies)

R- Can I just leave this letter. Apart from red, request, rituparno gosh(why oh why?), nothing much is appearing in my mind right now and the above ‘R’ words are as relevant as this post. So I will let go off this.

A - Answers. Yeah yeah it all very deep. But really I get bored when pple answers life’s questions without being asked. Everyone finds his or her answers. Whats so good about yours? Leave it sir. If you think somebody’s answers are wrong, keep it to yourself. You never know when you are going to be hit on your head fatally.

I tag Tarzan, Othello, Ricky Martin and Adam. (I got to follow the rules)

T, stop swinging and tag along
O,I never liked your character.hence I tag you to punish you. What a tragedy, your life is?
Ricky, with that kind of butt swaying, I always felt you are a gay. Anyways I have tagged you. But pls don’t divluge about your new avatar. There are hell lot of books on it and I dont even want to read even one.
Adam, do you have a middle name? Uh …um were you really happy in the garden of eden? uh…um…do you really regret eating the apple? (not able to keep the curiousity. I ate apples too)

2007-10-12T02:18:00.000-07:00

Chick Dig This! Chick Dig That!

I love this channel “Travel and Living”. It hosts great shows about travel, food and art. My interest lies in food, travel and art. And I watch these shows indiscriminately. But I have my favorites. One is a travel and food show and another a reality show. Very addictive shows but leave you unruffled. These are antidotes to the whole lot of mind ----- soaps.

No Reservation and a Cook’s tour.

A great show about travel and food and a sexy guy thrown into it. MMMMMMMM! A perfect recipe for the soul.
That’s right! Anthony Bourdain!
It’s not just another travel show. Ian Wright is too interesting but Mister Anthony Bourdain takes it to greater heights. He is not deliberately funny but satirical, and with no malice. He is a gracious guest.
Tall, lanky, a good smile here and there, great humor, a super sexy walk, cool clothes, shades, and his erotic voice. Oh I could watch him even if he talks about mathematical formulas solving mysteries or nonsense like why Bush is better than the rest of the world.
He is Howard Roark. Well not Howard Roark. He is Anthony Bourdain.
There is something in him, which is adorable even when he is sitting and watching the pig’s intestine being pulled out. Thank god he is not one of the guys who screams and lets off awfully bad sounds. The years of experience are written on his face, his walk, and his smile and his eyes.
He is not at all like a typical macho man with 16” biceps. Well he doesn’t need them to be a man. He is a man’s man and appears not so a typical lady’s man. This makes him more dishy.
I would be offended if pple didn’t know about certain personalities, but I would love it if pple are ignorant about Anthony Bourdain.He is like this pebble you find in the beach, which stood out from the rest solely because of your perception, and you just keep it as your possession. You don’t feel like exhibiting it. Only you know its worth as you have solely bestowed the price to it. It’s almost the same with Anthony Bourdain.He is like my pebble. I like the feeling when pple don’t know anything about him. None of my friends know him or watch his shows and that makes me really special.
But then, I don’t like to hold on to things a lot. I have to let go off my pebbles ;), so I'm letting go off Anthony Bourdain too. Not because he has lost the value. It’s just that pple might like him but the way he is perceived by me is unique. So I don’t mind he being out and open. I’m just too crazy writing all this stuff. That’s right! Anthony Bourdain!

Miami Ink.

Well if somebody had told me that there is a show about tattoos, I wouldn’t have bothered to even check it out.
Once while browsing. I happen to see Ami James speaking followed by Chris Graver. They were not speaking some life changing moments. It’s just the way they were speaking. Full of character. I don’t know how to put it. Well it’s like the opposite of Abhishek bachan’s nugatory figure/assuming personality. Okay! You got that! Thanks. Well I continued to listen to them and then the show took to its main course, tattooing. And it was icing on the cake, interesting guys doing interesting tattoos. Oh I love their art.
Miami Ink is about a bunch of tattoo artists, doing their job and just talking. Ami James and Chris graver make it special. And of course the store right in front of the beach adds up! And I have to mention Yoji. He balances the show by being just cute.
It’s not about the shows but it’s about the pple who make these shows special.
You see pple from all walks of life go in and out of the tattoo store with a great tattoo on any possible part of their much worn out bodies. The client’s 2-minute stories don’t leave u bored. This show needs host like Ami James who can actually make u forget to squirm your arse while watching the scrapings of the skin. Mwah! What a treat when the tattoo is made. Awesome beautiful tattoos. I’m almost tempted to get one myself. But for that I had to go to Miami and have to get an appointment with either Ami James or Chris Graver. Chances are quite bleak and I’m quite happy about that.

Somehow these shows make me feel more feminine. I take them as compliments!

2007-09-10T02:03:00.000-07:00

BOMBAY-WORTH MANY CITIES!

I can’t read anything and everything. That’s because I don’t like to read certain things, for example travel write-ups. Never found travel write-ups delectable. I love to watch travel shows though. I find travel write-up (TW) very bland as I fail to be perceptive. I lose interest, as I’m really not keen to know his/her views abt the “place”. I would rather have a look at the place and feel it. I even tried reading certain travel write up by a writer,I had a crush on. But it didn’t help. I even tried reading a TW of a friend who is too good with words but I JUST couldnot enjoy.
Mmm talking abt TW. I feel like writing about BOMBAY, a place worth many cities.Well I visited Bombay when I was around 12-13 years of age when “its my life” was a cool life quote and being an atheist was a trend. The family decided to go to Bombay, as it was my dads much loved city. Initially, I was seeing Bombay through his eyes. He gave a brief detail about the places he liked (VT is his favourite) and the coolest joints of his time. He was nostalgic about the place as this was where he first fled to and realized that life is not just lamenting about broken homes
I don’t remember the exact itinerary.but yeah we visited all the tourist joints like chowpatty lane, marine drive, taraporrewala aquarium, Juhu beach, Nehru Science Auditorium, Gateway of India and the bewildering serene Elephanta caves. I even caught up with the film shooting where I was lucky enough to catch a glimse of my then fav Salman Khan. (This bit made me famous amongst my girl friends)
I enjoyed all the spots as it was all-new to me. I was from Mysore, a small town and I had never been out of karnataka. I was enraptured, as everything was a novelty.
VT station, the lovers kissing on the rocks of marine drive, the most shocking encounter of a large group of tranvestites, the real genuine chats, huge multitude of well mannered people, regular buses, huge wide roads etc., these, I saw it through my eyes.

But then a particular city has its intendment. And Bombay is quite emphatic in this matter.
We were staying in a guesthouse in Mathunga. And on the second night, we couldn’t sleep due to sheer excitement. Then my dad suggested us to go for a walk and treat ourselves with ice creams. Take a walk at 11.30 PM!!!. That’s famous. He affirmed that theres nothing to worry and we set forth with fewer apprehensions. He was very confident that his daughters would be safe in such a place and no one bothered to delude my father in this regard. And we never missed that late night walk to have an ice cream till we stayed there.My sister divulged me into all her thoughts and I saw too many things.I felt as though iam attaining nirvana.Bombay walk was my bodhi tree.(i was a young teenager.forgive me!)Those Bombay walks did bring out a considerable change in me. And principally for this reason, Bombay will remain my favourite city. I havent visited many cities. But I’m sure of one thing about Bombay that it is magnanimous when it comes to the life it offers like no other city.
I visited Bombay again for a couple of days when I was in my late teens. The life was still there but I perceived the city with all my growing heart and mind and consequentially my heart was burdened by people from certain walks of life, certain incidents and certain moments in Bombay.I can never forget till date and I don’t think I will ever do.Those things have made me.

2007-09-04T00:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday! All My Troubles Seem so......

Got up late and had to rush. Just missed a ghastly accident within a fraction of a minute.

Got cheated pettily.
Realization-As Oprah puts it “theres no such thing as Luck. You just need to be ready when oppurtunity comes knocking”. (Did I say quotes are damn quotes somewheremmm well)

Just because Iam younger and comparatively thinner in my family, I have never been considered as an adult who require a proper seat. I have always been made to adjust and yesterday was no different. I found myself squeezed between the legs in the cab. And later sat in an unbecoming position on my sister.Thanks to an unwanted guest who joined us to see off my sister and co.

The long awaited “my space” and silence held no charm. I missed the NOICE. I miss my pichkuliya (niece) and my ashraf miya (nephew) and my bossy darling sister.
It would be unbearable for few more days.

Bless me!

2007-08-08T23:26:00.000-07:00

Tagged for the first time!

My friend Vasuki has tagged me to write 8 random facts about myself. Good they have specified the number orelse I would have written volumes.
Here I go.,

1) I used to love dancing (especially my version of tap dance) on a small wooden teapoy at home.Now it’s a little harder so I do it on the floor.
2) If I like a movie, then I have to watch it atleast three times.
3) Iam like Nick Carraway of ‘The Great Gatsby’.I hate anything stuck or smeared on any face.I will never be calm till it is cleared.I get agitated at ink spread on the hands, face.I hate long nails on guys.
4) I love curds. I asked my mum once for a litre of curd as my bday gift. Nowadays Iam smarter and ask for something worthy eventhough I still drool over curds. I go loony tooney over ripe mango instant pickle with dollops of thick chilled curds.mmmmmmm ooooooooo ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.Slurp!
5) I used to wear the same clothes for my exams. (But as luck would have it, the one sitting next to me wrote pages and pages and I sat figuring out all the shammi kapoor songs I knew).
6) Tea is theaurepeutic especially the late afternoon tea. Love making it and drinking too. Tea is a part of all my romantic fantasies.
7) I don’t like the letter ‘Y’ and even numbers. Its not because ‘Y’ sounds snoopy and don’t like pple getting even with me.
8) Even the ‘To-let’ sign tempts me to take a leak.

2007-06-28T05:28:00.000-07:00

My cup of tea!

I sit in my abode, thoughts I don’t want, starts interfering my serenity, my whole being screams for TEA. Magically, I hear the clouds pushing away. Well if it doesn’t Iam sure that it will take beautiful colors and forms by the time I finish my tea. This is how hopelessly hopefull I get just by thinking of preparing tea. There will be a new kind of energy running along my veins as soon as I start searching for my tea vessel. I like the way milk gets dispersed in the water. Waves, dont know where to go but happy however they are going or maybe with no feelings. The milk looks more transparent and water looks murkier. With a smile, I add a teaspoon of tea powder. Blackish brown nodules will be jumping up and down and swirling around as I turn them with a spoon and the swirling tea nodules leave their color to the milk like a smoke from a chimney to the milky sky. The sight makes me little giddy and little tranzed out. By the time I add sugar, I get all aroused because within minutes I would be savouring it, sitting and admiring even the dull blighted leaves.I dont know why I feel joyous when I strech my neck up, put my tongue forward, lift my hand with a spoon of tea a little above my face so that a drop of tea falls right on my tongue and spreads bestowing sweet bitter tea taste all over my tongue.Sexy sensation! I get excited just to wait for tea to boil. I pour that tea in my favourite cup (having my favourite cup and the feel of the cup is also a part of the therapy), strain the tea and throw the vessel, spoon and the strainer in the sink and head straight to my favourite seat and sip it.
I like Georgette Heyer more with a cuppa tea. In fact all the books. But I didn’t like tea much when I was reading Norwegian wood, as it tasted a little salty.

2007-06-22T17:19:00.000-07:00

Druthers

A post in my friend’s blog tempted me to write this one.
I have always differentiated authors and artists ‘s work based on influences of great tumult and supreme serenity respectively.
I believe most of the authors are influenced by great tumult and artists rely on serenity to produce great works of art but not the other way around.

Authors discover and might even invent chaos in every thing and hence, ramble, cribb, whine, extol and these are converted into books, great books and masterpieces. They dwell in bedlam. Frustrations lead them to great thoughts. Desperation leads to frustrations. In fact beauty also leads them to desperation and so on and so forth. But they never want to run away from these. They have an urge to get deeper and deeper into the myriad of screwed up affairs. They never fail to add a feel of melancholic tinge even when they admire the beauty in their work (a simple common quote about beauty which I have come across in several books ‘It was so beautiful that it ached my heart or I bled or something similar’). They are deliberate, self indulgent, underrated perverts. (Well, these traits never appear as vices as long as they pen a book like ‘a personal matter’) They are these adorable charmers who write 1000 and odd pages instead of a mere para. But mind u, Iam not complaining and disparaging here. Their work keeps me busy, happy, unhappy, sleepy, teareyed, lighter, angrier. I adore them. I will remain indebted to them forever.whatever maybe the reason.
Well Artists on the other hand, would not chase or dwell into chaos eventhough most of them are craziness personified. All they want is to get away from the pandemoniacal routine. Serenity helps them to produce great works of art rather than a state of great tumult. (.You can refute logically but I don’t bother!).
Sharpening of pencils, selecting the paints, getting the perfect size canvass, making the canvass, thinking of colours, basking in the the beauty of the model, (they find beauty even in the curve of the fading petals, color of the blighted leaves), the feel of the canvas, the smell of the turpentine, mixing the colors, etc., all of these will aid them to achieve serenity by shutting the ramblings tight in some corner of the head. Albeit the corner would be entered later, say, after the painting.
They have to attain a certain serenity to produce great works of art. Being serene is not a difficult task for them because they dont feel sorry about running away from chaos. And when an artist forgets his tricks, he can only chop his ears.

2007-05-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

SPY vs SPY

Children age 3-4 shouldn’t be allowed to watch cartoons. Cartoons are incomprehensible unless we have two main protagonists who knows only one job, to either chase or run.My niece forced a promise out of me early in the morning and I gave in as I thought its high time she thinks that Iam not just there to fight and cuddle. I can be an interesting playful aunt.(But it was too late when I realised that I shouldnot try to influence the opinions formed about me) We sat together to watch pogo. Never ever was I so annoyed with a channel?
First came the Daffy duck in his fantastic island. I actually like the looks of Mister Daffy so I settled in. Then came niece’s incessant queries about his looks, his kissing escapades. Every change of scene,I was deluged with ten questions to answer. There was no relativity at all. That little monster niece of mine was not satisfied with my answers. She had a problem because I was making it all up. When she can realise that Iam bluffing, why the hell can’t she understand a simple cartoon and keep quiet. Now I understand the smirk on my sister’s face when I proclaimed that her daughter would have a good time with her chikkamma (Aunt).
Then came Thomas the tank engine and frnds. I was hoping, considering her gender, that she might get bored with Thomas engines. But no! She was on some kind of a mission. Questions again!! Why Thomas engine has such big lips and funny eyes. But Actually, why oh why these cartoon trains and trucks should have lips..big lips and eyes?For godsake stop this flummery!

Is it hard to err when u know it’s a sin?.I don’t think so. I gave her a bowl of ice cream, which her mom had repeatedly warned me not to give. I had my vengence for a smirk!
I never liked kids much. I could only tolerate them if they are sleeping.

2007-04-24T00:49:00.000-07:00

Wish everyone were born deaf!
There wouldn’t have been horns/honks on a busy street.

2007-04-20T04:25:00.000-07:00

Canteen Upama was Yummy!

Conversation over the breakfast table.
No V channel, MTV, Zoom is played in the canteen. Moral fanaticism has seeped into the canteen as well. But these have been replaced by filmfare.stardust. Co. News channels.
Ash-Abhi Wedding breaking News!
M: Aiswarya looks old
S: Blank.
B: Yaaack! you know she is actually much older than what she projects.
C, S: Share the joke along with B and laughs
Tireless M: She is such a schemer. She has grabbed the best catch. Oh Schemer.
She used Salman, vivek.
(Talks as though they were her childhood buddies. Patronizing broken hearts!)
S: Yeah Yeah! non-schemers just take any guy who comes in their way. They don’t bother whether he belongs to a good family or not. His salary and the kind of work he does are irrelevant. His burnt unhealthy skin doesn’t matter. They just get married without weighing the pros and cons.They are such unselfish nonschemers that they would actually prefer to go for the second /third best.
Peter Repeater M: but she is old man. He looks so young
S: Blank (she realised that canteen upama is better than many things in life!)
C: Smiles!
B: Decision made. No girl with wrinkles. Not even dimples incase pple take it for wrinkles.

2007-04-13T04:59:00.000-07:00

A Desultory Rainy Midnight

I missed the rain day before. But I was lucky last night. It was a heavy downpour. The smell of the rain was better than making tea. My sister’s two noisy children were fast asleep. I took a cup of tea and slowly stepped outside to the balcony. It was breezy and cold, and dark. Memories running, I smelt the rain soaked soil.
But my thoughts ran a little slowly this time. Slow paced! It was all too clear and obscure…my cycle, my sketches, my two close friends, banana milk shake with cashews, Railway Station benches, the stone, a letter, bitter fight, the street dogs in front of my house, reading newspaper on the bed, a stranger’s glance, certain roads, a purple lotus,a long queue of students,certain passages of my favourite books,koshy’s, my cousin and I in the church, two sad pair of eyes, a sms i sent just before making tea, aimless ants, final goodbyes, benecio del toro and then it got more senseless.For no reason, tears welled up in my eyes and then I realised that I have stopped smelling the rain and have gulped the last sip of tea. It was no use trying to reestablish my senses .Got back to my room and read a couple of pages of “the world is flat”. It did its office. I slept.

2007-03-26T23:22:00.001-07:00

Scum!
India out of world cup is utter misery. But indian media reporters interviewing the kids,men, women, older folks and asking for their expert opinions about captaincy, and the changes they would make is a total crappy horseshit.

Now, every TDH would be sending out their blessings to aishwarya and abhishek bachan on national TV.

2007-03-22T23:13:00.000-07:00

Melancholy seldom sits on the pillion nowadays!

Five days in a week I travel 150 Kms (30 Kms per day) in my good old scooty. My bike’s condition is worsening. My mom’s reason for its ruin is that I don’t keep it clean. My mom has neither ridden a bike nor planning to do so.
Well coming to my travelling routine. I do enjoy but it gets really dreary, as I have to pass the stretch again and again. Oh yes I tried going in different directions, reached home late, spoke to helluva lot of Autorickshaw guys which prompted me to form an eclectic assumption abt them. Finally I decided to stick to my route, which is one big straight stretch. I went through a lot of trauma while going through that for many couple of days. And then I decided to blow away this riding depresion and make it worthwhile.
Initially I started to sing loud, my favourite songs and this give me a kind of certainity that I sing well. As my singing at home took a prominent event, I, at the same time, observed my parents in deep mortification. Finally my mother who is a good singer was brutally honest and I stopped singing.
Then later I decided to get poetic on the road. I set out to gaze my eyes on either sides of the road to get inspired. I reached office and home late. I even had many disturbing sleep. But never managed to dovetail the contradictory words that used to pop up in my brains when I looked at the barren heavy loaded sand trucks, big enormous closed doors houses, pot holes in competition with each other, unreasonably placed different types of speedbreaks, children performing accident prone acrobatics, children with trishul and huge frames of gods and pple giving alms and even touching the frame so that their journey onwards is safe, so called elite dog owners showing off their dogs carrying newspapers(this shrinks me), lovers fondling while riding, lavender-yellow-red flowers blanketing the road and many more accompanied by lunatics honking mercilessly behind you.

In the midst of making my travlelling better, I have found two favourite spots in the long stretch of ring road.
One is some 15th cross jpnagar circle. I like this place a little less than the other one Iam going to mention later. Albeit it’s the next good spot I could find.
I have never found this spot without a long length of buses, lorries, two wheelers, jalopies and what not for more than 200 yards away from the signal.
I strive to be at the vangaurd of this assorted array of automobiles and I succeed merely by the size and weight of my bike. As soon as I come to a standstill when the signal displays red, I lift my bike on to the cobbled stoned footpath and ride zigzagging around the trees quite fast and reach to the front with an air of superiority, envied by all those who are motionless. I could never be satisfied as this triumph. The feeling of a sense of conquest is alluring.

The other spot is the one I get while coming back home. Its called Devegowda petrol bunk circle. We even have petrol bunks named after Primeministers. If you happen to travel in the wee hours of the morning, you might get a chance to see our former Prime minister taking a walk sorrounded by high profile security guys. Oh he remains inconspicuous in that protective ring. It’s quite an amusing sight. Well its defnitely not the reason to like this place.
In the evenings, this spot will always be buzzling with activities.
The circle is a well-maintained one whatever be the reason. U got to wait more than couple of minutes for the green signal to appear, a long one but an intersting one. There is a big drainage next to it and surprisingly never stinks that bad. There used to be a huge tree right in the middle of the drainage where few enticing birds had crashpaded. Unfortunately I don’t find that tree anymore. These days, the void of a tree is filled up with a swarm of small kids selling succulent drumsticks on the roads, pple buying and bargaining the sweat out of those kids.
I will be banking on those small children’s success accomplished by not getting hurdled down by those blinbling covered big chested women sitting in the car who wants to buy those juicy sticks for a nickel and whenever the kids succeed it never fails to bring a smile. Those kids wearing torn jean/trouser, unbottoned shirt, dirty hair, holding a bunch of drumsticks between their thin legs, sharing jokes and laughing, counting the pennies they got, with total enraptment, everytime they make a profit and safely keeping it in their secret spot in a plastic kept next to a huge big tree with huge branches right on the footpath is a very heart warming picture I carry further down the ride.
I have started singing again. Maybe get occasionally scared that somebody who might not have better voice than my mom might get offhandedly truthful.

2007-03-20T22:59:00.000-07:00

Iam feeling sick in the stomach.
I came across a pompous couple(both in attire and health) going for a walk with their unfortunate dog carrying newspapers for them. The dog also knew to carry it right. I saw the headlines.
Red ferrari renunciation was lot less disgusting.

I find an uncanny resemblance between George Orwell's Animal Farm and Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead .But the former is a small good book and later has Howard Roark.

2007-02-01T00:11:00.000-08:00

Vulnerable disposition.

I just went through my blogs. sometimes pain is fun.
I felt its become so monotonous. I agree I have written 4 and it sounds monotonous. But then I realised that I feel monotonous and I can’t help it. And that’s another unwanted realisation. Why I have to be monotonous! Why am I caustic and sarcastic, cynical and rambling things over which is quite unnecessary. Look! Iam doing it right now!!!
We are all monotnous creature. Beat that.
Iam monotonous because Iam sitting here in front of the computer like every other day except for those Saturdays and Sundays. Well they have their own monotonous faces.lets not deal with that now.
I get infuriated almost everyday. Sometimes I don’t. Maybe I would have forgotten. And naaah! It doesn’t mean that I was happier in my office just because I had a chance to forget it. It’s just a matter with my mind. Iam happier when I curse, rant, laugh, play TT.I seriously believe that I might end up being a victim of Alzheimer’s disease. My friend is coincidentely doing some research on that. But I don’t trust her. This is the bloody mess Iam in. I have a solution, which never appease me.
I have to be with jerks, talk to them, listen to them and still have a smile, which aches my jaw and even my heart. If only they had allowed me to get up, do a somersault and jump over the seats and play some Nelly Furtado and dance my butt out. It would have defnitely helped me to be better labourer.
But c’est la vie. (I give a farthing for pragmatic solutions and cheap moralistic views)
And I also give a monkey when my father compares my ac seater job to those where they carry loads on their back in the hot sun. Come on Dad, Iam not a small kid when I used to get hoodwinked by your sentimental line about a girl with no legs whenever I asked for a pair of shoes. I get knotted in my stomach when people recite some famous quotes as though it’s going to change our lives. Quotes are damn quotes. Utter disgust when people claim they get inspired by books like”The man who sold the Ferrari”. The funny part is the emphasis on “red ferrari”. Life wouldn’t be interesting if not for ironies like these.

Saturday and Sundays! Weekends!
Its as bad as the painful moan u can hear in Guns n roses”don’t cry”, a random song I picked up to listen this morning. Miserable idea.

I guess I have meandered a bit. So let me find my seat.

Should I write about politics, religion, racism that leads to brainstorming sessions in the blog? That’s grand. I would rather ramble about the orgasmic nature of Jim Morrison’s “Light my fire” music. Iam a self-indulgent melodramatic person.So is Everyone!

2006-10-17T03:43:00.000-07:00

Hobson’s Choice
Tring…tring…tring…Bang! A loud bang!.A louder bang! Jumped out of the bed to what! To recive a call from a friend who is drunk in another part of the world. I hate phones …….You know what I hate more than phone…well it’s the mobile phone. Did I have a bad morning huh? Wait!. How about a Tring tring when you are brushing your teeth. It wouldn’t have bothered but then I was expecting an important call. Damn the interview, ill brush my teeth. I would rather prefer a good set of teeth than a better salaried job.
So I continued brushing and got ready for the office. I have to make a better day out of this grungy morning. Clueless about how would I make it as Iam still relentlessly finding ways. It will be my umpteenth time to better my mundane day.
I entered the gate and met a colleague who I dread. I knew what he is going to do. I tried to fiddle with my dress in order to avoid looking. But oh people are so damn innocent that they would never know or undertsand that they are being avoided. Oh when will I have the courage to be honest and tell them to get lost right there on their face. Neither I have the courage nor Iam faster to whisk away. He came cheerfully and showed me some santa banta sms.not one but all the sms he has received from preeti, pinky, sony etc…..why doesn’t the earth just open up and swallow him and his cell.I cursed the day I laughed at one of the sms pjs he had shown.
Day is getting worse.still the spirits are high cos I have challenged the fate! I got to be doing better than getting pissed off with these conceited morons.
I know fate is having a good time teasing me. I will not budge.
I sat in my seat and the person next to me is fighting with her boyfriend over the phone.ooh ha! And the worst part is she is murmuring. It’s barely audible. I wouldnt mind if she was loud. I consider lover tiffs to be quite a passtime.
I have to get out of here before i explode. I ran to get a cup of tea. The tring tring again in the lift. How claustrophobic u can get. The damn person is not able to hear the person on the other side of the phone. But my happiness is quite ephemeral. Fate is quite a miserable sadist.( ill kill the idiotic nerd who said tougher the odds,better is the fight) The person was also fighting against his fate by working out different ways to listen to the other side. And man!,he is trying all possible positions in the lift to hear. And the tone of his voice kept changing. Why don’t I throw him out of the building? I just gulped the tea at once and finally the unhurried 2nd hand lift stopped in my floor and just had to sprint away to my cubicle to keep myself sane. Huh? My next –seat colleague just stormed off crying. Iam sure her boyfriend must have banged the phone.kudos!.I was about to put on my Walkman and listen to some mandolin, but fate had different ball game altogether. My bereaved collegue told me her whole sob story. Oh god. Put the sympathy face girl!. Iam a good actor but the job sucks. Tried giving her an advice to log off her phone and switch of her cell. She stormed off. Some storming off syndrome! No one wants a good advice.

Sometimes my colleagues come up with heartening ideas and one of those is to go out for lunch. As I was about to eat what we have ordered, I happen to look at a quirky freaky girl opposite to me. She was talking with a smirk on her face and munching on a deliciously looking dish. (Wonder! why I didn’t order for it). Poor girl! Suffering from a syndrome. But then my gadget guru friend informed that she is having a handsfree. Oh lord! all these days I thought half of my city populace are suffereing from some syndrome.Am I turning out to be like those Americans who consider everyother activity as a syndrome?

Finally finished my days work. Had to leave early, have to catch up for a movie. Hope fate is sleeping away to glory this time.
But fate never sleeps. Does it have quarter end everyday! The person sitting next to me is messaging whenever a song comes. God this person has a talent enough to make my head turn to look at how fast he is typing. He does an amazing act. He types on the small keyboard on his cell, eyes glued to the screen. Amazing multi tasking! But then I couldn’t admire his talent for long. Now the person has gone to the extremes to screw me up. He is changing the ringtones when I happen to be emotionally involved, tears rolling. I admit I cant change my fate but I can definitly change his. (Did I just sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger of total recall?) I turned my head, masquerading a diabolic look and chided him. I threatened to take his goddamn cell and smash it. Phew! thank God! He got scared and tugged his cell inside the pocket.poor chap. I shouldn’t have raged like this. It’s not his fault. Oh mercy! Am I trying to be nice? Enough of my conscience-stricken brain. It has played enough with my life.some pple deserve it. Move on baby!
Ok! Went to the theatre loo and was startled to hear the tak tak sound of messaging when I was about to relax. Iam quite paranoid abt going to the loo alone in a theatre and i even get scared of cute looking caspers and on top of it there this girl next loo messaging away and whispering, giving away subtle laughter.oh..Eerie.! It was my turn to storm off. I will do anything for u Mr.fate. Just please slide away fom me for a day atleast.
Took an auto to rest my screwed mind and equally fatigued arse.
But then I forgot I am sitting in an auto. But let me admit I am a big fan of the autowallahas. They are just super smart when it comes to maneuvering their three wheeled jets out of any traffic jams.(No wonder “Krish” and “Super man” movies are not made in india and Rajnikanth stunts seem almost real!) God when will I master this art. I was almost on the verge to settle to calmness. The driver speeding hastily turns back to ask me about the intricasies of the hidden charges of the mobilephone bills.Does really god love each and every one on this earth?I DO NOT THINK SO!!! He insisted for my answers and I don’t know how he manages to see the road ahead facing me! One of the wonderments, which makes me numb. I just forced a smile and looked out. He thought I was dumb and he is right. If I was not, he wouldn’t have been able to turn his neck for the rest of his life
What a sight right in front of me. A girl is riding a bike and talking over the cell which is quite knackily held between her neck and shoulder and at the same time pulling her tank top to cover her half cleavaged butt without much success and to the advantage of the onlookers. Both my auto guy and I were appreciating her..Well for different reasons. But let me tell you this girl is much better than saree clad ladies who keeps their feet off from the footrest almost screaching the road.
I finished my dinner and warned my mom not to wake me up no matter who calls and head straight to bed. The only fact, which keeps me sane, is that I don’t own a cellphone. All of a sudden the whole world has so much to talk. Everyone talks and nobody has time to listen. Short cut to short love stories.(surprisingly they donot have a problem with short love stories).do they go through the pain of breakup? Do they not go through the pain of pining for the lost ones? Is life more interesting because of a cell phone?
If I become a Prime Minister, I will ban all the cell phones.
Oh god iam dwindling into formless body between nightmares in the morning and dreams in the night!
Should I take up the challenge again? Do I really have an alternative?

2006-09-22T05:08:00.000-07:00

Never Liked Goodbyes!

This blog is dedictaed to two of my closest friends Vijay and Swetha.
Vijay shekhar jha (I fondly call him by his full name) is someone you can count on him anytime except when he is asleep. Well that’s another matter that he sleeps 16 to 18 hrs of the day.
The first time I met him was on the breakfast table and he was going on and on abt jokes in Hindi, which I hardly understood. I was little cloyed. First impression was kind of unimpressive. His first inpression about me was that I was snobbish. Well first inpressions didn’t hold much importance at that time.
As the policy in our process is to keep relocating the seats in order to get away from the mundane work, we happened to sit together and experienced a cacophony of sound as we used to play different kinds of music. Finally he convinced me to listen to his to achieve blissful harmony. And then I realized that the music he played had a soothing effect on my nerves. Thanks to him now I delight in wide variety of music. Then we kind got into discussions about music. He is a talented sweet singer. The best part about the discussions was the interest I developed in the beauty of the Urdu lyrics. Just Amazing.and we had familiar interests and a need for arguments and we hit it off. So our morning discussions always used to be eclectic, from lateral thinking to Rajnikanth, from Fireball Bihar politics to mundane Clinton sex scandal, from philosohy to poorjokes, from why we shouldn’t stop eating chicken to why we should have bath once a week.
He is the reason behind one of the achievements Iam really proud of. So here he is, all 2 years younger to me, bossing around me (bossiing over me is not a easy one.) teaching me maths. Iam a dumbass when it comes to this annoying subject. He struggled more than me to teach . I still vividly remember the day I was sullen and despondent as whatever they taught me in some goddamn tuitions was going above my head. As usual his uncanny sense of humor cheered me up but his promise/assurance lifted my spirits at the same time. He didn’t break his promise.
He used to sit in the morning after breakfast, teach me maths and strech to make up for the lost hours. Iam indebted to you VJ,for life. Wish I could be of some use one day. Ill help him even if he happens to kill someone.
He is intelligent, he is not preachy but gives very easy practical advice (never forget the Rs 200 to be kept in the valet), have a gift of gab. He was my best dancing partner. We were too good dancing for Rushhour's "what is he good for”?
He is courteous. My GK improved a little bit because of his knowledge. He can solve any damn puzzle, riddle. To me, he was Mohammad Ali of chess as he used to claim to beat me within 3 to 6 steps and he would do it. Well yeah iam a bad chess player. He taught me tt and I play without embarrassing myself now. He is my confidant. Miss You VJ. He is such a blessing!. Thanks for everything! Even for the fights!

We are not sure whether our paths will cross each other or not. But we have promised to remain as friends forever and this promise I would love to keep.

Swetha, Shweth, my darling cousin,my sister and my closest friend. She is the most adorable girl but at the same time the one who can piss me off quite often. Her ways of maneuvering her life always made me pull my hair. The worst part is that she used to find me refuge for all her mindless actions and come to me with implacable predicaments. As all her predicaments were unappeasable, we used to laugh it off and throw it to gutter and plan to make some fresh new upgraded predicaments.
Contradictorily, I bet she would make a better homemaker. She is a very sensitive human being. She has gone through a lot and still manage not to indulge in selfpity and remain good.She has lot of love to give.she is a hopeless romantic and God has bestowed her with a great sense of humor. Her oneliners are just mindblowing. She could be quite fascistic about cleanliness. I always see her diabolical side whenever she looks around my room. After abusing me, she cleans up the whole room. She is such a barbaric darling!
My Movie and eatout partner and advantageously she is a Nutritionist/Dietician.Hence we have managed not to look over weight. I can never forget the good old growing up days when we used to go for a ride on my luna, having orange candies while its raining, a kind of tryst with potholes we encountered whenever we came across a handsome guy. We could never avoid a pothole.

From being kids to teenagers to being "Women", we have gone through a lot in life.
The best thing about her is her innovative freaky ideas to keep us awake during our arduous night studies. The freaky idea is to try out the clothes and make up. It really works especially for women and few men.
She is Van damme of our family. She must have slapped a few number of “deserved being slapped hard” men. One of the incidents I want to tell my kids is about the day, long back, when we were out going for walk enjoying the sight and engrossed in analyzing one of her predicaments she was recently trying to get away from, a sly utterly unfortunate guy misbehaved and there my Van Damme chases him a couple of steps and whack him to the ground. I was literally rolling on the road laughing. That’s how cool everything was once upon a time.
We have had our share of misgivings and got back together with a bang.
Somewhere in our lives, I havent been a great support and I feel guilty about it. Wish i could somehow emancipate my guilt by being there for her when she needs me.
I always love you my dear sister.

This blog is more of a commitment to be there for you guys than a dedication.
All the very best in life. You deserve much more. Hope to See You somewhere down the line.

Lord knows Dreams are hard to follow But don't let anyone Tear them away Hold on There will be tomorrow In time You'll find the way
And then a hero comes along With the strength to carry on And you cast your fears aside And you know you can survive So when you feel like hope is gone Look inside you and be strong And you'll finally see the truth That a hero lies in you
-"Hero" Mariah Carey.

2006-08-29T06:03:00.000-07:00

Vain...Pain...Gain...mmm!!!!
Today I went to the beauty parlour to get my eyebrows done. For me, getting the eyebrows done is almost like extracting the tooth. I postpone going to the dentist and also to the beauty saloon for eyebrows. But I have to go because whenever I look at myself in the mirror in my office restroom, I feel little sick in my stomach looking at the awkwardly grown eyebrows giving a shabby appearance.
We have a new handsome guy on the floor. Is this not a reason enough to get my eyebrows done? Yes! I have to get it done.
While when the beautician was carelessly plucking the tiny hair from the delicate skin of the upper part of the eyes and least bothered about saliva sparingly showered when she moves her mouth holding a twin thread twined which snaps the hair, forward and backward. And hell you cannot wipe it as your hands are occupied to hold the skin around the eyebrows tight to aid the careless beautician. The little drops of saliva is better than the fatal pain if u happen to loosen the skin just to wipe the slimy thing off. By the time she gives you a minute break to do the other eyebrow, it would not be much useful to wipe it off, as it would have dried .oh grouch!
As I went through the misery of getting my eyebrows done, I happen to remember one of the male chauvinstic statements. Men seem to eagerly defend their amorous staring at the vital organs of a woman body, by shouting at the roof tops that women dress up provacatively to attract and as a humble soul, would not like to dissapoint the ladies and end up appreciating.
Well I agree we dress up to look good and we do enjoy the stares as long as they remain quite artful. But the matter of dispute is why guys do not look at our eyebrows when we go through the horrendous pain to look good. Why their humility and appreciation devoted only to the bosom and the tush. Is their appreciation of beauty merely sexual? I have never heard a guy who has complimented on eyebrows. Agree they do glorify the eyes and smile. But isn’t something sexual hidden below these compliments even. In truth, they only gape at the curves of the lips, colour of the lips and when you happen to catch them staring incautiously (Men are naive. Forgive them.) at the lips and raise your cleanly twitched eyebrows, they very cunningly compliment you on the smile.They will put themselves to sleep with the images of bosom, tush and the curves of the lips. For the eyes, they like to carry the image of the same as they have a tendency to misconstrue the indifferent look in her eyes for adoration.
Ouch! The f&$%ing careless beautician! Plucked it hard! And she says sorry right on my face, her stinking breath gushing into my nose. They should follow some business ethics. One of those is not to have onions and garlics when you have to do the eyebrows. Bad business. But I cannot ignore the fact that she does a good job with my eyebrows. And I have to bear her showers and bad breath. Am I vain? Well as long as Iam looking good, I donot give a damn.
As I kick start my good old bike and turn to go home, my lips curve into a smile at the thought of encountering the new handsome guy wearing his tight jean that complements his sexy tush.la..la…la screa……..ch! Does he have a mush! Who cares?

2006-08-14T05:12:00.000-07:00

Musings!

You shouldn’t give much credit to arranged marriages.
You find the right man only after the marriage…mmm…

Oh wow the toilet looks clean! Did u scrap it with your fingernails?

Do u procreate?
Oh hell! Why didn’t your parents strangle u when u were born!

Have you observed Aamir Khan walking!? I think one of his legs is shorter than the other!
Oh no…both the legs are shorter!!

I give solutions only to make my life easier!

2006-07-05T20:12:00.000-07:00

“Make Shopping Easy” Startegies – The Wiles of a skilled Shopper!

I had a discussion with one of my male friends about husbands accompanying wives for shopping.
He was actually insisting that men didnot like shopping but they accompany their craving wives as it was their duty or they just couldnot help being nice!!!!.
Well, here I couldn’t disagree more with the later point.
Like all different men who tend to be alike, don’t want to accompany their wives for shopping unless for valid reasons. And Women don’t want their husbands to accompany them for shopping. They really don’t want them physically but yes their vallet is all that matters.
Here are some of the points why men eventually led to shop involuntarily or voluntarily by smart ways of women

It might be an eyeopener for the guys!

A. If she has too many bags to carry
When she shops, she never realizes the number of things bought in various shops in the mall and her excitement would have fuddled her senses to an extent that a Simple idea of dumping all the fragile delicate things (anything she shops is fragile and delicate!) shopped which is snugging gracefully in different covers into one big cover and carry the same. Anyway, nobody else is carrying to put the blame of sleazing up the shopped stuffs. As the shopping hormones works wonder to her skin and not the brains, husbands wouldnt mind carrying the bags besides the thought of great se3 back home. Once the fuddled senses are back to normal and the shopping hormones have taken the back seat, she doesn’t mind going an extra mile to boost his male libido..Ego

B. When she has doubts of getting transportation back home.
”Excitement of going for shopping, fuddling the senses” is our macguffin to the B scenario as well.
Fuddled senses will never let you be smart.
- If she were smart enough to master the shopping hormones before it fuddled her senses, then she just needs to coax a little harder. This she can achieve by spending a little energy to pretend to harmonize the male concupiscense. He will give the car to you. (Well I am just as amazed by the ability of the pituitary glands to produce amongst many hormones, the growth hormones as well as shopping hormones, as with she being smarter to have mastery over the shopping hormones.)
- She doesnt’t have to be uncharitable to spend a little more extra of the money on a cab
- Very simple! She could use her hubby. Call him and ask him whether he wants whipped cream or chocolate and then with the usual pouted lips voice (don’t waste your time wondering why he never gets bored of that…as long as it works) beg him to pick you up or subtly put across a sentence or two about dropping the idea of whipped cream or the chocolate as it might be a bad idea if it looses its puissance as the cab facility in the vicinity sucks!!!

C. When she is apprehensive about loosing the tiny toddlers.
If she happens to have the stubborn toddler insisting to come for shopping, then she has to let go of the idea of whacking the child and be good and take the husband. She can do anything, beg, moan scream harder and take the husband because she doesn’t want her senses to be fuddled by shooting orgasmic shopping hormones and loose a kid.
For the diet stricken brains… don’t try to convince your toddlers by the tools u convince your hubbies. Chocolate might be tempting but they will insist upon coming and selecting their own. They are still interested in choosing, as they are not men yet.

D. When he refuses to give credit cards to her.
-When the husband is least interested to try the last option - the viagara, then she should get down to her childhood stratagem to insist his company by emotional blackmailing.
-Theres is a feeble chance to accomplish his company by dressing up provactively for shopping intending to make him suspicious.
-If that doesn’t work …well, go Steal baby…that’s the third option of each and every successful accomplishment that has ever occurred in the world.

E. When the husband insists he accompanies her for his own indulgence, watchful, penny pinching,.. reasons
She has to take the husband if he insists, why he insists? He insists for various reasons
- He has a strong feeling that you might end up going for the lingerie show room, which is putting up a 50% clearance sale. He can get to see lots of women of/with different sizes and a chance for trouser tightening experience by jumbling the lingeries and the women on the floor… of the showroom in his head.
- He is suspicious about the excitement. Poor chap has still not realised that the shopping hormones work wonder on her face and body.
- He just wants to be “NICE”
-He is a cross dresser when u go out of town.
-He has just watched Oprah’s debt diet programme. Unfortunate terrible occurence, She has to work hard on “make shopping easy” strategies - moaning screaming, whipped cream, chocolate, pouted lips tone, head aches, emotional blackmailing, etc etc.,

Note: Hey girls don’t worry…they will be naïve even after reading this….
No offence intended at irrational feminists.