Should old acquaintance be forgot, and never be brought to mind?

I officially declare this year to be one of the worst in my life (And, here the new-old guy is going to say - "Why the eff do you keep cribbing for Gods sake!!!"). But it is true. This year has been one of the worst years of my life - The first being '07, "The Year of the Break - Up". I will of course write in detail about that later. Okay, maybe just a few sentences, since I am in the mood of reminiscing. A guy (the guy) broke up with me a couple of weeks before I was supposed to fly down and meet his parents, on the first day of my exams, after our marriage had been fixed, family members informed and celebrations begun (well, almost). Last year was the worst year of my life. And now, you know why. (Anybody who needs his address to pay him a little visit, feel free to contact me!!)

But, I digress. Back to '08. You will find below some of the worst things that have happened this year. They are in descending order of magnitude

1. My best friends mom expired. 'nuff said.
2. Problems arrived on the family front, and how!
3. I had a massive fight with one of my closest friends, and I am never, never speaking to him unless there is some serious grovelling involved.

4. I earn lesser than what I used to last year
5. I started working with The Colleague From Hell.
6. Terror struck the country over, and over and over again. (Give up terroristy people. We will never bow to you.)
7. I went out of town almost always accompanied by an ex-boyfriend (eeeyeh). I dont speak to him anymore and that's made it worse.
8. I didn't fall in love.
9. I almost got married.
10. I saw some good action, hence making me totally emotionally dependant on the person providing it.
11. I did not wake up in someones arms feeling like I was in heaven.
12. I almost got caught lying to my mother (a lesson I still haven't learnt).
13. I made absolutely zero new friends.


And finally,

I got a haircut yesterday. And its horrible! Its as if a mouse was allowed to nibble on my hair. People have actually gasped when they saw my hair and that's almost never good. Nobody gasps at hair, unless its a shampoo ad they're looking at.

Yes, it's been a bad year!

And oh ya, Happy New Year guys!!!

"This Years Love"
By David Gray

So whose to worry
If our hearts get torn
When that hurt gets thrown
Don't you know this, life goes on

And won't you kiss me
On that midnight street
Sweep me off my feet
Singing ain't this life so sweet
This years love had better last

TOW Realisations and Events

So, I've had an eventful couple of weeks.

1. I found a new guy, actually re-discovered an old one.

2. I came face to face with P3 and completely ignored his existence (Yay! for me) even though my plate was dying to fly out of my hands and sever his (I am sure) small dick.

3. I handled a high-flying party and met extremely influential people (and when I say influential, I mean influential...P. Chidambaram, Deepa Mehta, Praful Patel and so on. Yes yes, I rub shoulders with the "it" crowd).

4. I also abandoned my Goa plans (Sigh). Turns out everybody is crazy busy that particular week in Feb when I was planning my vacay.

5. And I realised that '08 has been a really, really bad year for a lot of people. And I am hoping the next year is better than this miserable one.

But the most exciting thing that happened was the new-old guy. Keep your fingers crossed guys....will keep you posted!!

The Story of My Life, The Italian Way

Prospective No. 3

For all those people who read my previous post and were sitting all fingers crossed and fervently praying for my future happiness, here is some bad news. And while I am quite glad at this turnout and, more importantly, I know the "what goes around comes around, times three" rule, I am sure other people, namely my family, are not really happy with the result.

Okay, everything else aside, why are people so hesitant to tell the truth. I mean, we are all human. We all make mistakes and for gods sake, the truth will set you free and all that!!

Prospective 3 (lets call him P3 from now on) was one of those guys who want to try a million things on for size before they pick one. Its fine when you do it with clothes and shoes, underwear even, but not with women. You can try a shoe, not like it and move on, without even a "later!!" and not be at the risk of hurting its feelings. We women on the other hand, would like to be informed if you have selected another shoe. We want to be told that we have lost the race and there is no hope of winning the grand prize of a lifetime of slaving over the pot and picking up after our incapacitated husbands.

Straight after my first meeting with P3, and after he expressed his interest in taking things forward and me saying "likewise" to my mother, he left for foreign shores on a business trip. I did not hear from him for the next month or so. Not even a "Hi" or a even more casual "Waddup". It did not concern me much as I am well aware of how incapable men are in the subtle art form called Communication.

Upon his return, and the only way I knew he had returned was that I knew someone who worked in his office, I decided to take matters in my own hand and texted him. After all, this was as much as my decision as his. Right??? WRONG!!! And all women who have been through the entire getting-to-know-each-other game would be nodding in agreement right now. A woman is never, ever, ever supposed to take the first step. Its a cardinal sin and it makes you look desperate and needy and clingy. (Who makes these rules in any case??Patience is not one of my virtues and I always end up violating this one. Arrrghhh, I hate this rule!!) Anyhoo, I made the mistake and wrote him a very casual "Alive Yet??". Sacrilege I tell you!!! To my surprise I got a prompt reply. "Alive and Back" said the text. Subtle, bland, emotionless. I, on the other hand, was over the moon. And to further my excitement, I got a call as well. It lasted a while and by the end of it, I was imagining myself dancing around trees in Switzerland on my honeymoon. And in the duration of the call, plans to meet that weekend were also made. I even called up S and told her. That was my level of excitement.

So, I looked forward to the weekend. The weekend came, finally!! And no sign of P3, not even a peep. I waited, and waited and waited, till I just couldn't anymore and made another mistake. I texted him to ask him what the scene was and if we were meeting. And then I waited some more. Towards the end of the day, I got a reply. " Am with Boss who has come down from London. Have to chaperon him for the weekend. Can we do this next weekend??" And so naturally, I said sure and went out for drinks with S.

Next Weekend

By Friday I knew he had gone out of town again. Gone to the home town to meet the parents and the 100 day old niece. I was feeling all very nice and warm and fuzzy. After all, I was going to be a part of his family and his 100 day old niece would soon be my 100 day old niece as well.

Texts exchanged on Friday:

P3 -"Can we do it next weekend??"

Naal -"Sure Thing, No Problemo, Absolutely!!"

P3 - "How about coffee next Saturday?? "

Naal - "That would be great!!"

The weekend after that

Saturday 1 p.m. - I had bitten my nails down to their stumps in anticipation.

Saturday 2 p.m. - " What the eff??"

Saturday 3 p.m. - I gave up and sent a text - " I guess we are not meeting today as well??"

Saturday 6 p.m. - I had one of those revelations that people talk about. If someone does not even respect my time enough to let me know if he is unable to meet, I dont think I can be with him. I don't think I can spend the rest of my life in a guessing game. I called him to tell him off. He did not pick up. I finally texted him and told him it was not working out and the reason why as well. I got a reply.

"I owe you an apology Naal. I completely agree with your message and point taken. But I guess it wasn't working out for either of us. I met someone when I was travelling and I dint know how serious she was till she flew down to meet me while I was with my parents. And that was just a week ago!!".

So, I am supposed to be okay with that?? Cause, its just been a week since you have known, right?? Ya ya, Of course I can shrivel up and die honey!! Of course I have no self respect and of course the sun shines out of your ass!!

Now, I know I made the biggest mistake ever by taking the first step and texting him. But oh wow!! How desperate is she?? She actually flew down to meet him??? After barely a couple of months of knowing him??? And what the eff was he doing till then?? Waiting to see who proves how serious who is about him?? And if that is the case what happened to Rule No 1. "Women should never show their feelings" and Rule No. 2 "Women should never take the first step even if they are dying. No, not even a text!!" (Rules!!! Sod 'em I say) But in my defence they do seem to work on other people and not some EMOTIONALLY STUNTED WHACKJOB WITH VERBAL DIARRHOEA!!! HOPE YOU ROT IN HELL, FREAK!!!

There!! I Said It!!That probably saved me a million bucks in therapy...Don't you think??

So, back to being a spinster... Ahhh, bliss!!!

The Night and Day and Night and Day and Night of Unfairness and Terror

I had just gotten up to a beautiful winter morning, all charged up to go to work with a vague memory of watching the news before I slept, the news of gunfire at the Leopold Cafe in Mumbai. All it did that time, was evoke fond memories of a good meal at the cafe I had had a few years ago.

All the feelings of general well being vanished into the morning fog when I saw the front page of the Times of India. While I slept, an entire city had erupted into terror. Images of a young man, carrying an AK 47, bag slung around his shoulders, eyes filled with anger and hatred is how I will always remember that morning and the day that ensued.

I have seen a lot in the last few years, as has everyone else my age. 9/11, the attack on parliament, serial bomb blasts across the country, the Gujrat riots; I thought I had seen it all. And through all of this, not once did I feel that India was an unsafe country, a country where you need to look over your shoulder. But today, almost 36 hours since the first reports of the attack on Mumbai came in, I am scared. Not about my life, but about the millions of harmless, innocent people who have been targeted by these factions of terror.

What hits me the most is the unfairness of it all. Why?? Just that one word is enough to stump anybody. I don't blame Islam or any other religion for this attack. No religion is perfect. Even Christianity and Buddhism had their bloody pasts. So why target only one religion? Just because through history and time they have proved to be the most vocal? Yes, it is wrong, this attack. But I blame other groups for it.

This attack was a complete failure of Intelligence of the country. Why did the state government take so much time to call in the NSG and Army? When did the lives of people become more of a question of ego than anything else? Did the Maharashtra police seriously think they could have handled such a well planned, motivated attack? Where was RAW during all this; all throughout the planning stages of this mission? It seems to be that the ISI is more active in insurgencies, espionage and training terrorists than the RAW is even capable of. Obviously it took a lot of resources, time, money and such for the attack to attain such gigantic proportions. Did RAW or ATS or even the Maharashtra state Police not even get a whiff of the plan? Or where they too busy trying to pacify Mr. Thackeray?

As I watch images of helicopters hovering over Nariman House in Mumbai, I want people like Raj Thackeray to sit up and take notice. This is your city. The city you so desperately wanted to protect from "North Indians". Now what Mr. Thackeray? Why aren't you doing anything for your city or have you become as helpless as the rest of us? Cant you see that the NSG commandoes that are trying to save the citizens of your city, are from all over the country including North India? They will go and risk their life for your city, and you cant even spend a week in jail for it?

I think its time we bring the larger issue into perspective. This is our country. The people in this country are ours regardless of caste, religion and state. And unless we erase the invisible lines we have drawn around us, we will always have people from "the neighbouring country" penetrate our security and enter our peaceful land. Its time we stood, as one!!!


This one is for all those people who have given their lives for the peace of this country......May you rest in peace.

Jai Hind!!!

P.S. The attack lasted for 59 hours and claimed 187 lives (official figures). I hope it has finally awakened our lackadaisical country into action.

another one bites the dust

This ones for you. You know who you are!!!

I have realised, I am one of those people who have an opinion on everything. And even though it tends to irritate certain people when I give my unsolicited opinion to them, I endeavour to carry on regardless of the hurdles.


So, the marriage season is here. And one by one, well meaning but disillusioned adults fall prey to the not-so-utopian world of wedding bliss. One of my friends being one of them.

It was the event of the year, B's wedding. Poor guy!! I pity him. A couple of years later he would probably be one of those guys whose heads were chomped off by the female praying mantis!!

Anyhoo, back to the wedding. It wasn't something I was planning to attend, me being one of those people who hate to dress up and hold the constant I-swear-I-have-a-boyfriend-and-my-marriage-is-round-the-corner expression. But, B being one of my close friends and at the constant behest of my other friends, I decided to go.

Now, if you have been to a friends marriage, which you probably have, if you are my age, the question of "what are you planning to wear??" start doing the rounds about a week before the grand event.

So goes the conversation on one of these days -

ring ring

S: Hello
Naal: So what are you wearing?
S: For??
Naal: For the wedding, of course!!
S: Saree I guess
Naal: Okay, I will wear one too...

30 seconds of uncomfortable silence

Naal: But it would be so uncomfortable and weird and what if it dismantles when I get off the car or something??!!!
S: So don't wear one...
Naal : But if you are going in one, it would be really weird if I didn't.
S: So wear one!! Dammit!!
Naal: Wait, let me call Anch and see

ring ring

Anch: Hello
Naal: What you wearing for B's wedding?
Anch: Saree
Naal: Okay!! Bye!!

ring ring

S: Ya
Naal: I am wearing a Saree....

And so, I decided to wear one. And then, panic!! "I have to get a blouse stitched. Oh my god! Its wedding season, What if I don't get it back in time? What will I do then??" A hurried trip to the tailors later, I was a happy camper. But the panic didn't stop there. "What earrings do I wear? What shoes would go with the Saree? Should I wear the pointy heeled, sparkly ones that are oh-so-sexy or the sensible ones so I can remain standing without pain, for the duration of my stay??" After a lot of deliberation I finally decided on all the peripheries and went bangle shopping.

(By this time I have managed to destroy whatever shred of respect I had in the readers mind. Am I right?? And if you had any sense left you would stop reading right now.

For those readers who have decided to risk it, here goes... )

So, we finally reach the wedding. Me looking absolutely smashing in the Saree and the pointy heels, which I decided to wear, and coordinated bangles et al, or at least that's what I thought till I looked at how sexy all of my other friends looked (sob sob). Plus, I froze!! The wedding was at a lawn next to an abandoned airstrip and there was a really cold wind blowing and I realised that the ground was all wet cause of dew and my pointy heels became a nuisance cause they kept digging into the soft ground and I had to make double the effort to walk or stand without losing my shoe to the lawn. It was like quicksand, I tell you!!!

One question, aren't brides supposed to look all bright, happy and cheerful like a light had been lit inside her or something like that. In this case however, the bride looked like she just swallowed a really bad tasting turd (Is there any other kind?). I mean, B isn't half bad, for a friend that is. As a husband I can only assume. And its not like she was forced to marry him. It was a love marriage for gods sake! She didn't look that nice either. I spotted like, 10 women at the wedding who looked better that her, me included. (Ya okay, I went a little bit overboard with that. I think I should stop. What if she read my blog and forbade B from meeting me for the rest of my life. That would be sad, wouldn't it??)

You know how there is always this one guy at a wedding, who drinks to much and becomes loud and overbearing. Usually, I just stand around and watch the show unfold. Unfortunately, this time, that guy was one of my friends and not only did he become loud and overbearing, he also fell in love with a married, voluptuous cousin of B's. No offense though. She was pretty though, in a my-saree-doesn't-really-go-around-my-breasts-way. After being thwarted by the cousin and dissuaded by B's brother, my friend turned his attention to a sweet, old lady and proceeded to talk emphatically about the bad habits of catholics or something to that effect (he's just broken up with his catholic girlfriend) only to be told later that the sweet, old lady was actually a Catholic, sweet old lady. What fun!! He immediately insisted on apologising to the lady. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. Not on our watch at least. He spent the rest of the evening under the our hawk-like gaze. I mean, the guy couldn't even take a leak without one of our friends accompanying him to the loo...

All in all, it wasn't half bad. We were allowed to smoke and drink in full view of the relatives and guests just as long as we didn't do it inside the venue. The food was okay too, whatever we got at least (by the time we ate, the rest of the guests were either at dessert or coffee or the post-meal smoke). I did end up hogging two, read T-W-O, plates of jalebi. By the time I sat in the car to go home, I was feeling sick and yet, ready to bitch about everyone and anyone who caught my fancy. Weddings are fun!!! Cant wait till the next one.....

A sacrifice for ignorance

Theres always something in the way.

Theres always something gettting through.

Its not me, its you.

Its you.

*****

Sometimes ignorance reads true.

Hope is not in what I know.

Its not in me, its in you.

Its in you.

*****

Its all I know.

*****

I find peace when I am confused.

I find hope when I am let down.

Not in me, in you.

Its in you.

*****

Hope to lose myself for good.

I hope to find it in the end.

Not in me, in you.

In you.

*****

Theres always something in the way.

Theres always something getting through.

Its not me. Its you.

******************************************

You
by Switchfoot

The one with a great man

Even though a majority of Indian Citizens wouldnt know Obama's agenda for India, and still exult in his win, it was more of a victory of good over evil, so to speak. All those people who saw movies like Deep Impact where an african-american played the President of the United States and scoffed at the idea of such an unlikely event; it was as if America itself was proven wrong.

Whatever said and done, Obama seems to be a great man; someone who embodies the spirit of a nation. He seems to have gone through what everyone does at one time or another in their life; prejudices, family strife, drug abuse and such; and emerged stronger because of it.

However, Obama's journey has just begun. I can envision him sitting in the Oval Office in the wee hours of the morning, alone and tired, bent over a bill that prevents african- americans or muslims from carrying ammunition or something like that, knowing that whatever he decides he would recieve flak for it.

For me, personally, just his victory is enough for history to remember him forever.

Change we need and change we got!

(A)men

What is it with men? Why do they always have to take each thing and analyse and analyse and then finally over analyse it. "Why did she say that? Was he trying to prove something? Why do women have to complain so much? Why is she touching my arm? " I mean, seriously, get a life!!!

Not everything that happens in the world has to have a reason behind it. We hold your arm cause we wanted to. We don't complain, we just voice our thoughts. We said it cause we wanted to say it....simple!! There is no underlying reason here. There is no conspiracy to burst your overly inflated ego. There is no weird, complicated thought process that goes into reaching out and touching your arm and yes! just cause we touched your arm does not mean we want to have sex, u jackass!! So, at the risk of offending my male friends and readers I would like to make a few things very clear (crystal if possible):

1. We always know when you scratch your balls, even when you are just thinking about it. Women are very intuitive that way.

2. We always know when you are looking at us or analysing our fat bottoms (or the lack of it). Again, an example of our intuitiveness

3. We don't always think about sex; you do (studies have proven it to be so). So, the next time we hold your arm or kiss you; that's it, that's all we want. Nothing more. Unless, we take it further.

4. You don't always need to hold you stomach in or flex your arms when you see us. Its okay if you have a few imperfections. We like it that way.

5. WE DON'T LIKE THE SMELL OF STALE SWEAT!! Buy a deodorant, will you!! And while you are buying one, have a shower too!

6. When we talk about our problems, we usually don't want you to give us suggestions on how to solve it. We just want you to hear us out. We are perfectly capable of solving our problems ourselves (unless asked otherwise).

7. When we decorate the house with fluffy pillows and such, its not cause we are trying to feminise you. We have been surrounded by such stuff since we were born. We just like it that way

8. Sometimes, we like just to hold hands.

9. We do like to be treated like little princesses (well.. sometimes). At other times we want to be treated like equally competent adults. You better take those mind reading classes now!!

10. We eat smaller portions than you (at least in public) and we don't appreciate it if you comment on that. If we wanted to hog, we would have gotten our (equally hog-like) best friends along and not you.

11. We like men who can hold their drinks and not men who start grabbing and groping after a few sips of lager.

12. Cant you, for once, see a girly movie?? I mean, does it always have to be the latest Arnold, Sylvester, Bruce Willis?? We like those movies too. But can't you come with us for a good 'ole romantic comedy and hold us and pat our shoulders while we bawl our hearts out?

13. Don't test our knowledge (latest Sly movie, exact distance between earth and mars and so on)and laugh/shake head/grin smugly/sigh if we cant answer the question. Do you know which is the next Meg Ryan movie?? No??? Then??

14. Tip the bloody waiter!! The last thing we need to know is how effing miserly you are.

15. Let us pay half of the bill. Please, it would be our pleasure and I am sure it wouldn't hurt....right???

16. We love cooking, as long as you clean up afterwards.

17. Respect our parents. For that matter, respect your own while you are at it.

18. If you let us keep our personal space, we will let you keep yours.

19. Whoever said the world was round was stark, raving mad!! The world is flat, like a table and if you go too far away from us, you will fall off from the earth and float endlessly in space.

20. And finally, a lady never rants or raves. She speaks her mind!!


Disclaimer (I seem to put in a lot of these) - These are just the views of me and the women I know. But men can use their own judgement (I hope!!)

Tire Swing
by Kimya Dawson

Joey never met a bike that he didn't wanna ride
and I never met a Toby that I didn't like
Scotty liked all of the books that I recommended
even if he didn't I wouldn't be offended

Later!!

with stars in my eyes

Jugular Vein, Times of India
Sunday, 2nd October, 2008

Looking back, you'd wonder what the hurry was at that time. Trouble was, ‘at that time' wasn't ‘at that time' at that time. It was right then. And right then he was in a hurry. And all the bloody relatives didn't help. The flat was full of them. A droll assortment of uncles; anthologies of aunts, each with stories about things he'd said or done when he was ever so little, and look at him now, all grown up, on this big day; a slyness of cousins in murmured conspiracies.

What was it that they were whispering about anyway, silly grins on their faces? He didn't have to ask. He knew. It was him. Now and then one would call out to him, amidst much laughter, to come and join them. But he couldn't. He was too tightly wound up, a watch-spring coiled too often, all that morning, the past week, the past month, ever since the date had been fixed. Time had become fitful, a fickle fever that came and went. Sometimes minutes, hours, days sped by, skittering out of sight. Other times, seconds crawled like ants on sweaty skin.

He went to see if he could hurry up lunch. He wasn't hungry himself, hadn't been for days, appetite too slow to catch up with the haste he was in. But all the guests had to be fed before they could set off. And a suspicion told him that getting them fed wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't. Lunch wasn't ready. It wouldn't be ready for an hour. What was his hurry, anyway? Loud chuckles. Uncles, aunts, cousins, even the maharaj, hired for the occasion, loin-clothed, sacred-threaded, so thin after a lifetime of cooking for others that you could count every finger of your hands on his ribs.

Finally they sat for lunch, men in one room, women in the other, seated on wooden patlas on the floor, thalis in front of them, the old maharaj stooping and bobbing to serve each one, a stork in quicksand. Everything seemed in slow motion. Finally he pushed aside his half-finished thali and announced he was going to change; he didn't want to be late; 3 o'clock was the appointed time. Don't worry, she won't run away; she'll wait for you, a cousin rallied. Uncles guffawed and aunts smirked. He got changed and returned; they were still eating, prolonging it.

All right; I'll go on my own, he said, and went down to the car. Holy shit. The car. Ribbons, balloons, flowers. It looked like a Diwali hamper on wheels. Take them off, he told the driver. Can't; your uncles put them there, sniggered the driver. Let's go, said the man in a hurry, cursing his inability to drive. Can't, repeated the driver. You have to wait for the others; you can't go on your own. If you don't start the car, you're sacked, said the hurry man. The sound of the engine brought everyone down in a gratifying rush.

The cavalcade started. Traffic was light, the distance short. They reached at five to three. Relief flooded him. He'd made it. He was on time. He wasn't. He was at least an hour too early. Traditionally, the man always arrives late, to make the other side wait. So the other side is never ready by the official time. From behind the closed door, muted shrieks. Ohmigod, he's here already! How could he be? He's not supposed to be here till at least 4! Surrounded by querulous uncles and told-you-so cousins, he stood there on the landing, stiff and stranded in his brand new silk achkan, feeling like the biggest idiot on earth and happy to be so, till, at last, the door opened. It was 3.30.

Last month, it was 40 years to that day. Why were you in such a hurry? asks Bunny. Seems silly now, she adds. Not at all; it's given me a 30-minute bonus added to those 40 years, I reply.

Man in a Hurry
By Jug Suraiya

(Where have men like this gone??Or is it just me??? bah!!)

This year 'round

Caution - Insanely long post ahead!!

I love this time of the year. When everywhere you turn, houses are all sparkly and lit up and kids are high on sugar and probably for the only time in the year, leave their TV and video game addictions, to get out of the house, if only to burst some crackers (although, when they start bursting crackers mid-afternoon, when I am desperately trying to get some much needed sleep, I swear I could just light up a cracker and shove it up their tiny asses!!). The weather is good this time of the year too. When there is a slight nip in the air esp early mornings and late nights, when you bury yourself deep in your sheets in the wee hours and curse work, office and all your colleagues to glory 'cause in some time you have to get up and drag yourself to work, when everyone dresses up in their best and suddenly families become "all-important", when there is laughter and joy everywhere. I love Diwali and my sense of contentment and peace usually lasts till mid-January except for the occasional panic of "what to wear" and "what if I don't I fit into this insanely expensive shirt??"



This year though, the festival season has been different, and not in a good way. You see, my best friends mum recently expired ( I hate this word, makes you feel like you are talking about something frivolous, like a medicine or something.) And that made me notice many things I hadn't before. I was taking a walk to my neighbourhood gym, (Yes, I work out!! and dont you dare laugh!!) when I saw a few kids, dressed in rags, playing in the remains of what would have been last night's burst crackers. They were so excited playing with left-over gunpowder and the half -burnt covers of crackers that you would have thought that that was their Diwali, that is what they looked forward to every year as Diwali approached. I also noticed so many beggars on Diwali night. Is this how it is for them? Are they content with what they have? What are we, as the privileged class, supposed to do for them? All rhetorical questions....



On a lighter note, I so totally think poverty is the way to go. No food, ergo, I would be thin. Not that I am obese or anything. I work out pretty regularly and manage to look okay, good even, on some occasions. And even though "gymming" was so god damn hard in the beginning, I have gotten used to it (the extremely cute gym instructor with the 1000 watt smile every time he sees me does help.) But poverty and the lack of food did help my mum keep the 26 inch waist and snag my dad. So I am hoping it (gymming and not poverty) would work for me too.



But, I digress. I was talking about Diwali. My day goes about the same way every year. I get up in the morning when the cleaning is already in full progress. About a couple of hours later, I manage to wake up enough to pretend to help my mum. An hour further on, I take full charge, yelling and grumbling till I completely exhaust myself and drag myself for a much-needed shower. After shower, a quick nap. A couple of hours of quick nap later, I get dressed and the entire family (dog and all) squeeze ourselves in the car and take a trip down to my grandparents. Let me stop for a second and describe my grandparents for you. A few weeks back, my 80 year old grandmother landed up at our door at 6 in the morning, demanding a divorce from my 88 year old grandfather... 'nuff said?? Anyhoo, back to my day. After a couple of hours at the grandparents, we squeeze our fat selves back in the car, a slobbering, huge dog on my lap (" You wanted a dog didn't you, now suffer!! Muhahaha!!") to make our way back home for the puja. Let me take another second here and describe our Diwali puja to you. In case you didn't already know, our family runs as far away from the language Hindi as possible. We are an inter religion family (half Christian, half Hindu) and my father (the Hindu half) gave up his Gowd Saraswat Brahmin status when he married my mum, joined the army, started smoking, drinking and became addicted to flesh(the chicken kind, not the other one). So we wouldn't exactly be called a traditional kind of family even though we try very hard to fit in, hence the Diwali puja, Christmas mid-night mass and so on..Collectively, we don't know the first thing about pujas, or masses or any other religious devotional thingummy's.

So, our puja, usually starts like this.

Mum - "Naal, come!"
Naal (Horizontal, watching the re-run of Friends) - "Okay"

15 Minutes later

Mum - "NAAL??!!??"
Naal (still horizontal) - "Ya, Ya!!"

10 minutes later (On the living room floor )

Dad - Reading (in halting, broken Hindi) the Gayatri Mantra and so on from this little book our benevolent neighbours gave us 4 Diwali's back...
Mum - Her religious face intact, pouring milk on the little mismatched idols of Ganesha and Lakshmi we got 3 Diwali's back ...
Naal - Bursting with well concealed laughter at her dad's Hindi, while all the time keeping a poker straight face and trying to think of something very boring like her dogs paws ...

30 seconds later

Mum - "Give. Hand"
Dad - "Take"
Naal - "Kill me, kill me now!!" (Solemnly gets the red thread tied around wrist)

20 seconds later

Mum - "Take. Aarti"
Dad - "Okay"
Naal - "Over??..Ya???....RUN!!!!"

That's it!! That's my signal for freedom. I take a few diyas, light them up. Put them in the front of the house and practically run towards my car. I drive like a maniac (pausing in between to curse a few more kids who play Diwali on the road and wait for cars to pass so they can throw crackers at the car and scare poor ole' me) to my friends place, smoking furiously on the way, to pick her up and take her to another friends place (whose mum allows us to drink in the house, we still have to sneak out two-at-a-time for a smoke though). At an indecent hour I get a text from mum, one which makes me feel guilty. So goes the text - "Please come home soon. Dad has slept and I am also very sleepy. Plus your dog is going hysterical". So I drive drunkenly home (I am not a supporter of this kind of driving though, a sticker at the back of my car says - "Only cars are allowed to drink and drive". Hypocritical isn't it??) I reach home, switch on the telly, smoke few more ciggy's and drop of to sleep only to wake up in the morning with my lungs all choked like I had just smoked up, 'cause of the heavy smog from the firecrackers.

That's it, that's my Diwali. However the drinking with friends didn't happen cause of my best friends mum thingy. But that okay. At least I dint get any tearjerker message from mum, I got to spend more time with family (seeing as this might just be the last one with them) and I ate like a pig. Back to gym from tomorrow I guess. On the plus side, the instructor might be there and he would smile at me. Ooooh hes yummy!! Its Diwali, tra la la la!!

On being single and other no-no's

I am single. And quite proud of it actually. It took a looong time of introspection and adultery to reach this stage of being blissfully unattached. On good days I run around screaming "FREEEDOMMM!!!!". These are the days I realise I don't have to suffer varied polygraph tests and quizzes; "Where are you going?, who are you going with?, why are you going so late?, why is he going?, are you going to drink?, what time are you coming back?, why are you doing this to me???" and other such concerned, understanding queries. On the not-so-good days, I generally hang around in my room, staring at the ceiling, smoking my 12th cigarette, occasionally glancing at my phone and wondering why no-one cares about me. I mean, I could be dying of old age, cancer, appendicitis or rabies and no-one would know.

However, people (read family and distant and not-so-distant relatives) have other notions about my singledom. "Shes too wild!! Soon she would be over the marriageable age, as it is shes fat, once she becomes older who would marry her??" Amazing isn't it, the insight these relatives have. Makes you want to throw up, then tie a noose around your neck, tie a boulder to the other end and throw yourself in the shallow end of the pool. Yes, you read right, THE SHALLOW END!!! No, not because you want to die. But because you'd rather face that torture than the continuous friendly marriage banter of relatives, sitting around you and fastidiously ignoring your existence. And all you can do while they discuss your dark future is paste a shy smile on your face, while in your head there is blood curling scream of "MURDER, BLOODY MURDER!!!!"

I gave in, eventually. After persistent battering, dejected head shaking and numerous long drawn-out sighs (the battering and head shaking by relatives and the sighs by me), I agreed to meet someone my mum selected, the first two prospectives being complete disasters.

Prospective No. 1 : Irritating Marketing Manager of a Bank. No Smoking signs all over the picture. The first impending sign of doom was when he started discussing the different colors of nipples(Yup, Nipples!!!) and which color suited which skin type. Ya, ya nipples!! Last Straw - When he called up my mother one fine day, when i was catching up with a friend over drinks, to complain that I was drinking and was planning to drive home later. Oh my god!! How old are you?? Five??? And if you don't think I am capable of looking after myself or that I know my own boundaries and you would forever be trying to control the urge to call up my mother at the first sign of my wild side - For god's sake!!! get a mother of your own!!!

Prospective No 2 : Loser Trainer and Business Development Manager or something to that effect. Always raving and ranting about how much money he makes. Last Straw- "I am sorry I am late. This parking does not have space for BIG cars." Honestly dude, insecure much?

Prospective No 3: Now, there seems to be some potential there. Will keep you guys updated if anything happens.

As I continue this lazy search for the perfect match, (yes, even I have one!!), I hope that I get the opportunity to enjoy my last few days (I am hoping for months, or even better YEARS and YEARS) of singledom with the peace and tranquility I deserve. I deserve right? Right??? Okay!!

U + Ur Hand by Pink

I'm not here for your entertainment
You don't really want to mess with me tonight
Just stop and take a second
I was fine before you walked into my life
'Cause you know it's over
Before it began
Keep your drink just give me the money
It's just you and your hand tonight!!!

P.S. If anybody was wondering why I have converted from the many periods I used to write with to the "somewhat" correct grammar, punctuation marks included; you have to thank a friend of mine. I don't think he would appreciate the overdose of periods!!!.. Thanks Abhi!!

the one with the cold

I have a cold....not one of the bad ones..just one of those where you feel dizzy, run a low grade fever, sneeze a few times a day but generally manage to make your way around the day.....and i have also realised what a touchy topic a cold is....esp to someone who you give an unwarranted suggestion to....it was some time back and i had just recovered from the shock and relief of being AIDS free....a co-worker came and sat next to me...sniffling and coughing...and started talking to me about his prolonged suffering from a common cold....now being all-knowing that i am, i suggested that he get an HIV test done....ya ya i know...me and my big mouth right???...phew!!... what a mistake!!....and i didn't just stop there...i drawled on and on about how everyone should get an HIV test done regardless of how sexually active they were.....and how i think that an HIV test could give people a second lease of life and so on and so forth...after about 15 minutes of pure unadulterated advice i focused my eyes on him to notice his jaw was on the floor and he looked like he was just given a death sentence by stoning....now i am a nice person with my heart in the right place....little did i realise the prejudice still prevalent in the world when it came to STD's....i haven't heard the end of it since then....whenever i suffer from an ailment(common cold, banged toe, back pain, crick in the neck)...the above-mentioned co-worker never loses out on an opportunity to mention that i get an HIV test done...all with a smirk pasted on his closed, prejudiced face.....(he never got one done by the way...the chicken brain!!).....

i fail to understand the preconceived notions people have about issues like STD's, prostitution, religion, secularism...arranged marriage etc.....does it matter if land was promised to a particular religion for a particular yearly pilgrimage that they take, and then the land taken back because the government had environmental concerns??...how does an issue like that become a war between two political parties and questions the loyalty of a government???....how does a communicable disease become a precursor to the morality of a person??

i wish i could change the way people think....and i attempt to do that one person at a time...but sometimes it totally backfires and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth....should i give up then???...i don't think so...i still fire away....big mouth and all...and i hope people who read this blog would listen to reason...at least when it came to their own health....

i sign off with a song one of my closest friends introduced me to and every time i get a cold i remember her and all the good times we had....babe if u ever read this..call me..and for once lets follow through with one of our gazillion failed "momo" plans.....

i hope that i have changed at least one persons life and helped him/her jump the boundaries of their mind....

Cold Song by Jewel

It's getting cold and I'm starting to sneeze, I wipe my nose on my sleeve.
I've got the sniffles, I'd better drink my tea.
Oh do you do you wanna wanna catch a cold with me?

I'd catch a cold with you anytime,
I ain't just feverish, I ain't just lyin'
'Cause when your nose is running it's a perfect time for kissing and hugging.
Oh do you do you wanna wanna catch a cold with me?

We'll stay inside where it's nice and warm
Tell our bosses, we're caught in a sneezing storm.
We'll sniffle and snuggle and watch some more tv.
Oh do you do you wanna wanna catch a cold with me?

I'd catch a cold with you anytime,
I ain't just feverish, I ain't just lyin'
'Cause when your nose is running it's a perfect time for kissing and hugging.
Oh do you do you wanna wanna catch a cold with me?

Do you do you wanna wanna wanna wanna do you do you wanna do me yes indeed,
Oh do you do you wanna wanna catch a cold with me?

getting started

life has a funny way of bringing you around to face your truths..i hadnt planned on blogging...atleast not concretely (is that a word??)....i always admired the many subscribers to this voyeristic addiction....how can someone so blatantly put their life up for the world to read??...then it hit me!!....its a learning process...so many things to look at...so many mistakes to learn from....so many lives to contemplate on.....mine included....however, just to make it clear, this blog is not intended to be a list of unwarrented advice....even though, me being me, a lot of that is expected...and, me being me, few boundaries and limitations have to be created before i set foot in this new and exciting venture

Few rules for the blog:

1. Never, ever, EVER divulge personal information esp about people around me except maybe people i hate
2. No advice unless solicited (well...i'll try)
3. Keep it as simple as possible
4. No abusing...(arrrghh i hate this rule....but you gotta do what u gotta do...hmm maybe i'll change this one later..)
5. Follow it through
6. Keep to the rules (most important!!)

It looks like a small list but i couldnt think of anything else.... weeellll....heres to a journey of unbridled excitement, voyerism and catharsis.....Cheers!!

too much hard work, this blogging...i need a smoke!!!