It will never be okay.

I saw him through the haze, alone, strong and dressed in white, a contrast to the gray of the wall. I walked up to him and then, I saw the grief written on his face, like unmistakable graffiti screaming at me. The urge to hug him and tell him it will all be okay engulfed me. But I felt conservative eyes on me and saw the hesitancy on his face as he held out his hand. I shook it, urging my eyes to convey what I knew he needed to see. “How are you?", I asked and then immediately regretted it. That is not a question you ask at a point like this, I chided myself. He smiled his broken smile and said "I am okay".

He pointed me to a narrow stairs, easily overlooked in the architectural confusion. "Ladies that side" he said, matter of factly. I smiled at him and turned. The dark, dingy, steep stairwell made me claustrophobic. I took a deep breath and walked up.

Multi-colored hues startled me as I reached the top; blue, purple, pink, green and a few expected black. What happened to sober colors, I thought. Wasn’t that the official dress code for events like these? And then the silence screamed at me. Why is it so quiet? Why isn’t anybody crying?

Curious eyes looked up from their prayer books. Somebody grabbed my hand and led me to a room overlooking the main gathering area. The room had no windows and no space to move. Claustrophobia resurfaced. I sat at the edge of a door, my back towards the room, facing the women. Somebody cleared their throat and suddenly there were no more eyes on me. I still felt like an intruder, someone who, so clearly, didn’t belong. The woman next to me picked up a few more date seeds and continued chanting and adding seeds to the pile in front of her.

This is nothing like on television. This is so much more unreal.

Sunlight came down in streams through the gaps in the parapet. It was a hot day. I wish I would have had time to have a proper bath, I thought to myself.

I heard the faint chanting as my ears adjusted and filtered the sounds coming from the neighboring houses; the pressure cooker that was refusing to leave any pressure, the incessant knocking of a door, the children playing and laughing. It was a Sunday in some other world. Over here, there was just grief, palpable and obvious, boring into your soul while you slept, pushing itself into reality while you ignored its existence.

I had never met her, this woman who was loved and revered; who I had heard about always with respect on peoples tongues. I wasn’t there for her. I was there for him. But I never really saw him after that. Just a few flashes of white. I hope he will be okay, I thought, every time I spotted that brilliant color through the gloom.

It was time and everybody moved together like an invisible force was pushing them. They all wanted to see her one last time. The crying started as one by one, they came out from the room where she was laid. I stood in line and waited patiently for my turn, for the others to whom she meant so much more. When I saw her she was wrapped tightly in white. She can’t move! I thought unreasonably. I quietly crept out before my mind took on thoughts I knew it had no place for.

The men came, all in blinding white, to take her to her final resting place. I marveled at their ability to negotiate their way down the narrow stairs I had come up from, all the time making sure she didn’t lose her dignity.

Stories were told by the eyes that were deep in sorrow, wet with fresh tears. She wanted to open a school, I learned. "She was courageous even when she was breathing her last." "She had met Allah much before her body gave up." "She had always lived her life for others."

I left hoping he will be okay. She meant so much to him.

Tomorrow is another day.

The after-Goa Insights

Right, so I am back from another trip to my half-home Goa. Now, don't take me wrong, I love Goa. It is an awesome party place, lots of interesting people and fantastic, picturesque locations to take pictures of and show around to awed friends/colleagues once you come back.

However, being half Goan, I have always seen this other side of Goa, the simpler one; where you draw water from a well, crap in outhouses, run to the beach in the evenings and hang around with a beer at night patiently waiting for dinner. And since I have seen this side of life in Goa, every time I go to Goa just for the express purpose of partying, I always come back wishing I had done it the other way around. Where I could have just done the normal routine thing and then for a couple of nights done the binge drinking, partying scene.

Or maybe I am just getting old.

Anyhoo, I am back, with a tan so bad I now 'look' firmly south Indian; not that I have a problem with it. I drank what seemed like a zillion beers and a few liters of sea water, smoked a gazillion cigarettes, flirted with no body (though got minor crush on a guitarist called Elvis), walked a thousand miles, ate a couple of pigs, a few hundred chickens and a couple of kilos of rice.

By the fifth day, I wanted to go home.  I was tired and sleep deprived, missed my mom, my dog and my bed and just wanted to wear clothes that didn't smell of the sea.

I am old.

Eat, Pray but Dont Love.

I never really liked the book. Maybe because it came so close to home, so many times.  However, I admire the woman for closing the gap between who she was and who she wanted to be; something I haven't been able to achieve, despite striving for it every single day.

Anyhoo, these are some of my favorite passages from the book. Describes the many bad days I have been having lately, all replete with doubts and emotional cutting.

Depression and Loneliness track me down after about ten days in Italy. I am walking through the Villa Borghese one evening after a happy day spent in school, and the sun is setting gold over St Peter's Basilica. I am feeling contented in this romantic scene, even if I am all by myself, while everyone else in the park is either fondling a lover of playing with a laughing child. But I stop to lean against a balustrade and watch the sunset, and I get to thinking a little too much, and then my thinking turns to brooding, and that's when they catch up with me.

They come upon me all silent and menacing like Pinkerton Detectives, and they flank me- Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right. They don't need to show me their badges. I know these guys very well. We've been playing a cat-and-mouse game for years now. Though I admit that I am surprised to meet them in this elegant Italian garden at dusk. This is no place they belong.

I say to them, "How did you find me here? Who told you I had come to Rome?"
Depression, always the wise guy, says, "What- you're not happy to see us?"
"Go away," I tell him.
Loneliness, the more sensitive cop, says "I'm sorry ma'am. But I might have to tail you the whole time you're traveling. It's my assignment."
"I'd really rather you didn't," I tell him, and he shrugs almost apologetically, but only moves closer.

Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that. Then Loneliness starts interrogating me, which I dread because it always goes on for hours. He's polite but relentless, and he always trips me up eventually. He asks if I have any reason to be happy that I know of. He asks why I am all by myself tonight, yet again. He asks (though we've been through this line of questioning hundreds of times already) why I can't keep a relationship going, why I ruined my marriage, why I messed things up with David, why I messed things up with every man I've ever been with. He asks me where I was the night I turned thirty, and why things have gone so sour since then. He asks why I can't get my act together, and why I'm not at home living in a nice house and raising nice children like any respectable woman my age should be. He asks why, exactly, I think I deserve a vacation in Rome when I've made such a rubble of my life. He asks me why I think that running away to Italy like a college kid will make me happy. He asks where I think I'll end up on my old age, if I keep living this way.

I walk back home, hoping to shake them, but they keep following me, these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don't even bother eating dinner; I don't want them watching me. I don't want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression, and he's got a billy club, so there's no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It's not fair for you come come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already. I served my time back in New York."
But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favourite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

Surviving a Break-Up

So, my relationship is over. And in the weeks that have followed, I have done a lot of introspection, reaching no conclusions per se. However, the break up did make me evaluate a lot of my life, both past and future. The one thing that did make me sit up and take notice were words of a not-so-much-liked public figure, Pooja Bedi. She said, in one of her interviews, "Maybe first loves are meant to be just that, not forever, not everlasting. Just first."

Fortunately this time, the break up is not half as bad as it was last time. Maybe because I knew it was ending long before it actually did. And I was prepared. Or maybe because I knew that I didn't do anything wrong this time. And that always helps in any situation; knowing that you gave it your best and that it was not your fault.

So here is my guide on how to survive a break-up in the hope that somebody, somewhere would read this and it would help them as well.

1. Tell your friends.
2. Get out. Don't stay in and mope and having friends who know your situation always helps in this department
3. Do what you feel like, when you feel like doing it. If you want to scream, shout, abuse, talk, grovel, whatever..do it!! But then, don't regret it later. Always know, you are entitled to feel the way you do.
4. Oh for revenge! It will come though. Wait for it. Don't rush it. And when it does...well, I can only hope right now!!
5. Take time out for yourself. Do the things you always wanted to. For me it is going out with the ladies with alcohol and a whole lot of men-bashing. But whatever takes your fancy should work.
6. I know the nights are the hardest. The previous point helped me in killing the urges I had to call up the guy in question and beg for him to come back. And eventually those urges subsided.
7. Always know that there will be good days and bad days. In this case, being informed is half the battle. Knowing that this is just bad day and this will go away soon, helps in surviving those weak moments.
8. Work! Work! Work! Fortunately for me, being addicted to my work before I got into the relationship helped me more than I can possibly say. It was easy to go back into the same mold and slip into my work post the break up.
9. For some people, getting into another relationship helps. I have done it in the past. But it left a weird empty feeling in me when I did that. My advise is, do it only if the new guy is well aware of the situation and is okay with it. Hurting someone just to get over your hurt is just not right.
10. Give it time. Don't expect miracles. Eventually, this too shall pass!


Life has a way of answering your questions. It takes its own path, but eventually, all what you could possibly want to know, is known. As long as you look at it the right way.

I always wanted to know what it would've been like, had me and him got together again. My question has been answered.

The One With a Star on my Finger

It all started five years ago when I was trotting across the countryside giving interviews for an admission into a post graduate course. On one fateful day, in a hot, humid city, waiting in a crowded room full of hopeful, nervous chatter, I met the man who would change my life forever. We started a conversation, for the lack of a better pass time, conversation that included the past and hopefully the future. We parted ways that day, thinking we will never see each other again and we didn't keep in touch, except a call that lasted 15 seconds.

Little did I know, that man would make every dream of mine come true and give me the lease of life I needed.

Two years later, we got into a relationship; a whirlwind affair that swept me off my feet and made me feel like the world belonged to us. I breathed, slept, ate, lived through him. And then suddenly, it ended as soon as it began and I was left nursing a broken heart and no will to love again.

9 days and three years later, here I am, back with the man who gave me everything and took away everything. The man who can make the world seem like a dream and love a reality. The man who taught me how to live again, taught me how to laugh and cry, how to feel, how to hope. A man that believed in me like no one else has. A man that shows me the mirror. A man who is, undoubtedly, my soulmate.

And despite everything, the fights, the misunderstandings, the disapproval from the world outside, we are together.

Happy is a word I can relate to now.

Truth Be Told

Prospective No "Hopefully Final" is firmly out of the window and I am so heartbroken, it has taken me close to two months to even start talking about it. The worst part is, I have no idea what I did this time.

Which kind of brings me to the eternal question of "What the fuck do men actually want?"

Now, I've had my share of completely fucked up men in the past. Drug addicts, women beaters, models (you know the type), male ego flag-bearers and such. But at the end of this delightful journey, I have nothing to show; no interesting anecdotes, no helpful advice, nothing. And I think I need to do some serious thinking to help out those gullible, sweet girls, who mistake my promiscuity for a wealth of experience and come to me with questions that I have no answer for.

I am going to try and answer some of their questions here. More answers to come as and when they are posed!

Q1. Why do men run away if you pay attention to them?

Ans - Firstly, getting a mans attention is easy as hell. Act like the girlfriend he has never had, all level headed and sane and completely non-possessive, show a little of you famed cleavage and bam! Hes all eyes!!

Now, keeping their attention is the problem.

A man does not like it when you run after them. And you always have to walk a fine line between ignoring him and Oh-God-I-cannot-breathe-without-his-presence-in-my-life-and-I-want-to-make-him-thousands-of-pretty-babies-that-look-just-like-him.

Now, my reasoning for this is, men share a couple of genomes with dogs. No, no it true!! Let me prove it.

You must have noticed how dogs get most excited when they are chasing something; balls, rabbits, bitches on heat, their own tail? However, keep a ball next to them for too long and they lose interest till you throw it away from them to chase again. Similarly, a man will never be interested in a woman if you show interest in them for too long. Tantalize them with a little interest now and then and they will be faithful and loyal for the rest of the duration of your interest.

Now, I know how hard it is for women to control their urges to pick up the little pooches and shower their love and attention on them. Control those urges!! Go shopping if you must; get a stuffed dog or something!! But keep those loving feelings under wraps!!


Q 2. Why do men always check out other women, regardless of who they are with at the time?

Ans - It’s not your fault if he looks at other women and it’s definitely not because you decided to meet him in your sweats. I would attribute this partly to one of the seven deadly sins, Lust and partly to my earlier answer. Men love the chase and they will check out anything they can’t have. So that hot-assed chica that just walked past is just one of the many women he can lust after but never get. Its not you, it’s definitely him. So relax! And, if you want to test my theory, meet him in your best outfit, looking like a million bucks. He will still look at an average looking woman who has nothing but a good ass.


Q 3. Why are men commitment phobic?

Ans - Men are delusional. Pure and simple. They run screaming from commitment because they always think they can get a woman better than you. Or better still, they think they can beat Don Juan's record and be the king of a country full of hot Brazilian models who he can bed every night. Pah!! Don't worry about it. When men have gone and tried to (unsuccessfully) sow their wild oats, they will realize what complete asses they are! Wait for it, it going to be beautiful!


Now, I know this post is going to invite a lot of ire. Bring it on!

Hi. I am Naal, and I am an Alcoholic

Or at least I think I am.

How do you define an alcoholic?

1. Crave for alcohol everyday. Check.
2. If don't get alcohol on a particular day, break open a bottle at home and drink alone. Check.
3. Have had more than four types of alcohol in one night. Check.
4. After a night full of alcohol, need more alcohol after dinner. Check.
5. Have alcohol more than twice a week. Check.
6. Have been in at least one accident involving drunk driving. Check.
7. Still drive drunk. Check.

The only characteristics that differentiate me from a standard definition of an alcoholic is that I don't get up in the morning and crave for a drink (unless, of course, I am on holiday in Goa).

My association with alcohol started a long time ago. Being from a part Goan, Army background, there was never any dearth of alcohol in my house. Bottles of wine, rum, vodka and beer were always present in the tiny bar at home. Alcohol flowed freely at family functions and you were supposed to taste champagne even if you didn't want to.

But all this never contributed to my obsession with the drink till some time ago. I was always someone who got one drink at parties and stuck with it throughout the night. I loved a good rum and coke occasionally, but generally stayed away from heavy duty drinks. Recently, however, I have seen a change in me that can put Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas to shame.

I get the urge to drink every evening. If I don't get to drink on a particular evening, I get up the next morning all cranky and ready to bite someone head off. Sometimes at night when I cant sleep and my thoughts threaten to overpower me, I have to get up and make myself a couple of drinks which I gulp down in one go. Every get together with friends and family revolves around alcohol. If I cant get any of the hard drinks, a couple of beers are a must. I have driven drunk sometimes, so drunk that I cant remember how I reached home. I don't even remember getting into my car or the road and stop signs on the way home. I have seen numerous accidents involving drunk driving, even been in one.

I am happy, I drink. I am sad, I drink. I hate myself, I drink. I love myself, I drink.


I love alcohol and I think I am in trouble because of it.

Warring Words

In my pursuit of balance, I had completely lost track of my blog. I remembered this poor-mans version of a counseling session today, when I am down with the flu replete with a runny nose, burning eyes, headache, sore throat and lots and lots of flem!

When I look back at the last few months, they have been the happiest because of a complete lack of events in my life. I plodded on regardless of who was dating who and who lost their job and who is getting married and who is ignoring their so called best friend for the last couple of months. And I was happier because of it.

I have been single for close to three years now despite being in love. Which makes me want to stand up and applaud myself. I am no longer the sniveling little pumpkin full of low self esteem and desperate for human companionship. I am the happiest at the end of the day, cozied up in my room, in my PJ's reading a book or watching the crappiest movie on television. And now I can, finally, totally pass judgment of people who are constantly in and out of relationships. Yeah, I do get lonely sometimes and crave for attention which is when I call up one of my many friends (you know, the ones that you keep on the side like french fries. nibbling on them only when you feel like but usually letting them go cold??). Or if worst comes to worst, I light myself a cigarette and plot ways to kill people who I love but don't love me back.

I loved my new year. I sat in bed with a close friend, ate pizza, watched scary romantic comedies, drank rum and slept at a decent hour of 2. I got up the next morning and played house for my friend, made him breakfast, screamed at him for not having a shower and generally scared my self silly cause I think I am totally ready for domesticity.

My best friend is in an awesome relationship. A little too co-dependent for me but who am I to judge them. The guy is sweet, cute, caring and all that and I think they would be awesome together as long as they work their little issues out.

I went back to music. I had actually lost out a lot of beautiful music cause it reminded me of days when I wasn't myself. I am back though and even though it is a rocky relationship, its so goddamn worth it.

Things are so much better with my family. Everybody is happy giving each other space to live their life, barring a few issues with my father who keeps thinking he get premonitions that my brother and his family need him to be with them when in fact they couldn't hope to be farther away and that causes a little problem which eventually gets sorted. I am the aunt of a beautiful little baby boy and even though he looked like a little monkey when he was born, he has grown into a really cute little goon complete with hooliganism and destruction of property.

So all in all, things are going fine and I think this is the first time that I would be blogging on things going well rather than my usual rants and raves.

This is so much better. I am no longer at war with my words.

Issues with a Jaded Humanity

I had the weirdest experience today which made me think of how I have changed over the last couple of years.

I usually don't hesitate to help someone in need; helping a blind person cross the road, pick up shopping bags of old people, give a beggar some water on a hot Delhi summers day etc.

But today, for some reason I hesitated. I was standing at the red light and there was a person in an SUV who wanted to turn into my road (one of those slope-y curvy roads). Because he was driving such a huge car, and because the road was turning and sloping at the same time, he couldn't really see the road right before him, the way a person who is driving a relatively smaller car could have. He went into a pothole and stopped. Probably because he wasn't sure of what he was getting into. He looked at me and raised his eyebrow. Now, ideally, I should have told him that its just a pothole and he should carry on. But I stared right back at him and didn't say anything. He raised the other eyebrow. I frowned. He gestured with his hand. I took out my sunglasses and wore them. He rolled down the window. I looked away.

The light turned green and I sped of.

I don't know why I didn't help him but I can safely say I am jaded. I don't care about people who drive SUV's and live in big houses. I kept thinking, if I was stuck like that, would he have helped me? Later on, when I thought about it again, he probably would have.


So why have we all become like this.

A couple of days ago, I was with my colleague in an auto. A little girl came to us to sell pencils. 2 for 10 bucks. I didn't buy any because I have bought so many pencils from girls like her, the dashboard in my car has about 20 of them. She then saw that we had a bottle of water and she asked us for some. My colleague said no cause she would probably need the water later. I took the bottle and gave the little girl some water.

What has happened to our conscience? Have we just lost it in search of a better, richer life? Or is it just that we have been treated by other humans as meaningless, lifeless beings for so long, we just don't care any more?

Not Blocked

I am not suffering from writers block. I just don't have anything interesting to write about.

Except to bring to light a horrid experience I had on the only day it rained like crazy in Delhi. I had to wade through thigh deep water and had to beg someone to repair my tyre puncture.

And I learnt that, despite the fact that I survived the entire experience, I may not be as strong as I thought I was. (I cried like a baby when I found out about my tyre.)

Lose Weight, Dammit!!!

My struggle with weight loss has been on since I reached college and started eating like a pig. And since then, I have experimented with many fad diets including, the General Motors Diet, the Only Veggy diet and the ever -popular, eat-whatever-you-want-till-4 p.m. diet. None of these have worked. I even tried my hand at exercising; going for walks with my mother, joining a gym, dance classes, cycling, everything and my problem is, even if I do end up losing weight, after a few months, I give up and bloat up like a balloon.

Here are 11 signs (reasons, if you will) I have encountered over the years, indicating an urgent need to lose weight:

1. Being rejected ever so often because I didn’t look good or because I was fat or more often than not, the reason given is - "we don’t seem to be compatible enough". Ya right!

2. After you've had a satisfying make-out session, you settle in for the good snuggle with a post-coital cigarette, when suddenly a voice shatters your calm - "You really should lose weight, you know". It has happened to me. A perfect ending to a perfectly good (you thought!!) session!

3. You are climbing up two flights of stairs, and by the time you reach the top, you think you're probably having a coronary. You huff and puff for the next 10 minutes and conveniently blame it on your smoking.

4. You're with a new guy, the weather is at its romantic best and you decide to go for a walk. You're holding hands and enjoying the weather and the company when your boyfriend turns to you and says, "You’re not used to walking, are you? You already have droplets of sweat on your nose. It’s really cute!!!" All this is happening while you’re silently cursing the sweating genes you got from your mother.

5. You're preparing for a night out at the snazziest club in town. You put on your best top, squeeze your bottom into your tightest pair of jeans, wear your sexiest stilettos and reach the venue only to find that your friends look a million times better than you do cause they can wear skimpy clothes and expose their perfectly shaped bodies and all you have to expose is rolls of fat!

6. Black is absolute fav color. Cause it’s just so cool and you’re a rocker chick, aren’t you? Hmph!

7. You really like a guy; you finally muster up the courage to ask him out for drinks, just casual, with friend’s et al. He says yes and you are over the moon. He comes over and you introduce him to all your friends including your good looking and more importantly thin best friend. The guy is so enthralled by your best friend that he completely ignores you the entire evening and focuses all his attention her.

8. The guy in the previous point, strangely keeps asking you out for drinks and/or coffee. You realize it’s only because he knows that the only way he can meet your best-friend is if you come as well.

9. You are hungry and dying to eat the Big Mac burger at Mc D's, but you think twice before you eat in public and the only way you end up eating is when your equally huge and hungry friend eats with you.

10. You go to get your legs waxed and the salon charges you more than they would a normal sized person. Your legs are so huge; they have to use double the amount of wax and effort. I blame this on the hairy genes I got from my father.

11. You are cleaning your closet and you realize that the pair of jeans you kept from your school days, for "motivation", has started smelling musty.


I am going to lose weight!!

Right after I have this last slice of pizza! Oh crap, I am supposed to go out for a business dinner today!!

From tomorrow, I promise!!!

Heroism in its Daily Form

So, I was generally pottering about my new office trying to look busy whereas I just wanted to shake off the weird prickly feeling in my ass from lack of blood circulation from sitting on a chair for hours, playing online Text Twist, when I noticed a rather quiet girl in office. Actually, I had seen her before but she never really caught my eye. What did catch my eye was that she had a hearing aid in both her ears.

Curious George-y feelings overtook me and I asked my colleague. Turns out, the girl is actually a 40 year old lady and was deaf from birth. Now, I have had a few conversations with her and I knew she talked funny, like she had a muffler in her throat or something but I just thought it was a bad throat or a speech defect. Shes completely deaf. Always has been. She lip-reads and talks fine, just has problem adjusting her pitch and tone! She had been working with a newspaper as a Crime and Business reporter for 13 years. CRIME AND BUSINESS!!!! And, wait for the best part... She has actually quit this job and is going to join Law School. LAW SCHOOL!!!!! I cant get over it. How do people get so much courage? Where is this courage hidden; the strength to go out and face the world, day after day, knowing that you will never be normal.

All my life, I have tried to fit in; to be part of a crowd. I was never ambitious; always trying to be as neutral as possible. Not because I didn't have a different opinion on things (which I almost always did) but because I just didn't want people to notice me. And here is this woman, so clearly different and yet, so normal!!

I am in awe of her. And, for some reason, I have started behaving extremely weird around her since I have known this fact. I don't know why but it gets me conscious and very very aware of my imperfections. I don't want to offend her in any way and because I know she cant hear me, I have started mouthing words rather than voicing them which makes me look dumb more than anything else.

I have realised that being weird is just a part of me and I will have to accept it!
Soon, very soon!

A new job, a new beginning?

Okay so I am at my new job and it should suffice to say that I don't really like it too much. Its roach infested, doesn't have too many intelligent people hanging around, absolutely no guys worth the eye and I don't like the work too much. For the past couple of days I have been trudging off to office with a heavy heart and finally decided yesterday to take a couple of weeks break soon.



Is it weird that I want to go on my break on my own and just be alone far away from a city like Delhi? The feeling I need is to get up each morning knowing that I have nothing to do except to maybe write and think about a lot of stuff. No responsibilities, meet people with a different view on life, a broader perspective, who think about things other than just making money. I also want to volunteer, help little kids or animals or women. I dont know. So much stuff is floating around my brain that it gets difficult for me to concentrate on work or family or friends.

Iam at a loss!(Sigh)

Self - Help Books and Smooth Talkers

So anyway, before I leave my old job, I want to finish some projects and try my best to not leave any client/project in the middle. One of these clients was an author of a self-help book who was an editor-turned-model-turned-writer-turned-publisher-turned-author-turned-photographer. There were only two ways he could be so bloody versatile, one was that he had no idea what he wanted to do in life and two, he really wanted to explore career options. Turns out, its the first one!

I first time I met him was in his house, with a platter of food in front me (I was on one of my diets, and that platter was all I could focus on (or not!) and he totally took my breath away. Not because my stomach was revolting against my brain or because he was good looking, but because this guy could really bullshit!!!! I mean, he started off by telling me that he completely trusts me and has full faith in my abilities as a PR professional and he is extremely eager to hire my PR services asap! Now I wouldn't mind all this praise except for the fact that HE HAD JUST MET ME!!!!!! Now, my colleague, for example, totally fell in love with him. "Ooooh hes so good looking and he talks so well and I am sure he must be a good author." I am pretty sure that my colleague has never really read a good book in her life but I was amazed at the way women just fall for any glib talking idiot on this planet.

Anyhoo, we did end up getting the project and the work started in earnest. Unfortunately for me, he isn't one of those guys who any media would be interested in but by pushing as much as I could, I did manage some decent enough coverage. Hes really happy and the reason why I know this, is because of a conversation I had with him yesterday when I decided to tell him about me leaving the job. Now, bear in mind that this is just a sample what I had to go through every time I spoke to him.


Ring ring
ST - Hey beautiful!

(Usual greeting! No problem there)

Naal - Hi ST!

ST - How you doing?

Naal - All good, you say? Back from ____?

ST - Yeah, landed today morning!

Naal - Okay St, I have some really bad news! (Ya, right!). I have resigned from here and have decided to move somewhere else.

ST - Nooooooooooooo! You cant do this to me!!! How can you leave me??

Naal - ???

ST - No I mean, you have the magical touch I so need in my life! How can you just abandon me like that??

Naal - No, No ST, I will finish all the work and if there is something pending then my colleagues will take it up. Don't worry, everything will be taken care of!

ST - No Naal, this is really sad news. You were my bright light, my magical touch, my hope, my Man Friday

(Excuse me, Man Friday??? What the...?????).

Naal - (Uncomfortable laughter) No No ST....ahhmmm I will take care of everything!!!

ST - No, but I need you here, with me. No-one can do what you have done. All the amazing coverage that I have got is just because of you. I will be eternally grateful for the amazing work you have done! Please stay!!

Naal - A little late for that (asshole!!). I have already resigned.

ST - Anyway, where are go joining now? Is it better than this?

Naal - Yes, definitely (obviously, no! YOU MORON!)

ST - Ya I guess change is for the good

Naal - Ya....Change is the only constant, right?? (errr, yeah I said that!!!!)

ST - Hahahaha....You've become really wise!
(I am sorry, become???)
You should start writing. I can foresee that in a couple of years you would have written your own self help book and you wont even need to hire PR for it.

Naal - (uncomfortable laughter) Yeah!

ST - Anyway, I know that you are destined for big things in life and you will achieve all what you want to achieve! God Bless!

Naal - (I hate people who say god bless, I mean honestly, how old are you? 90?) Thanks ST!!

ST - Bye Beautiful!

Naal - Bye

Honest!!!!!! Cross my heart and hope to die....that's the conversation I had!

Its all in me and other learnings

I have been relieved for the past few days. A lot of factors contributed to it. I learnt so much and I totally feel like Dr. Phil only better looking and lesser facial hair!

Reliever number 1: I finally quit from my shoddy job, which I can say with complete enthusiasm, was a constant pain in the ass. Although, I needed a break and more than the new job I was excited about the two week holiday I was planning to take before I shifted. Turns out, I get all of 5 days of holiday, which made me want to murder someone with my bare hands and carry her head around in a platter, just for fun. But all in all, I'd rather take 5 days off than none. So, 4th is my last working day. I get on a bus on 5th and head to my fav place on earth, Mcleodganj. I go there about once in 3 months but I hadnt gone in a while and I can literally taste the excitement on my tongue. Mostly because I am finally going there without a boyfriend or ex-boyfriend in tow. And once I come back, I get to join a job which is paying me almost double of what I got at this miserable one. Hows that for relief?

Reliever number 2 was that my counseling is almost over. I have been told that I am healed and I don't really need to go there except for maybe once in two weeks for a month and then once a month for a bit and then over. Healing basically meant that you end up learning that the root cause of all your problems in not in anything else but you. You are the one who causes all the problems and you are the cure for it as well. The moment you learn to respect yourself, to take responsibility and to realise that you are the best version of yourself, you're done. That is the only thing I learnt. All the rest was rubbish!

Reliever number 3 was P4. Now now, I know what your thinking but its not that. It didn't work out. He disappeared. And this time it was much before he met me and saw how fat I was. Which was weird, 'cause men usually don't run out on me till they see me. But fortunately and thanks to my counselling I guess, it didn't really effect me much except for a certain sense of relief. To tell you the truth, I didn't like him too much. I'll tell you the rest later.

Life's a bitch ain't it?? But it definitely has its perks!!!

Move On!!! (Love these ads and these ads, by the way)

And oh ya, Adam Lambert is not the American Idol. Wow! That one was a shocker!! And hes gay too! My mother just nodded her know-it-all head when I told her. "Ya ya I knew. He wore eye makeup and nail polish. Of course he is gay!" Prejudices, I tell you!

And Delhi lost in the semis of IPL. I had bought the jersey and everything! I was in severe depression for a bit but the thought T20 World Cup cheered me up. Also, after the finals, I had nothing to do when I got back home and so, reconnected with family!

And, I luuurrrvvvveeee this 46 year old Swiss Minister (Picture Right) that I briefly did a project with. Oh!! hes soooo adorable! Married though! But who cares!





I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies

Learning to Breathe by Switchfoot