Toothlesswink

Turning Returning

2011-09-01T23:59:00.000+05:30

In a retrospective fit, I asked Mylo his happiest moment of all time. "Uh.....the day we got engaged....?" "Not a trick question, so answer honestly!" Ten minutes and he was still silent.

When I was asked this question in a yoga session, a couple of years ago, I was told to think about it and answer the next day. I, for the lackadaisical approach to such questions as, your favorite color etc, thought they were nuts to stretch these sessions. But then I sat and sat. I had no clue. Happy yes, but happiest, I really didn't remember.

Recently, on TV, someone was exclaiming how the happiest moment for a woman was her wedding day and I wondered if that was true for Indian brides as well. On mine, I was hoping my sari didn't come loose, the lamps don't burn the mandap down, and I don't fall face down. Mylo was in attendance and did his bit. Thali, vermillion, garland. Pose, smile, click. And, why didn't that Uncle get me a gift?

Anyway, since Mylo and I drew a blank, like I did in that session where I stretched a happy moment to be the happiest, we went out for dinner.

Eating out, eating non vegetarian food has always ensured happiness. We ordered and glanced over to see this family of four at the opposite table. The head of the family was returning my glance with his index finger up his nose. I gave him a blank stare moving attention to his nose but he had no idea his finger was up to something. As his finger caterpillared its way centimeters away from his eyeball, my barbecue chicken arrived.

Amen.

Meeting Your Husband's Friend's Expectations

2010-08-16T20:37:00.000+05:30

I'm not targeting that husband who appreciates his wife indulging in a conversation with his friends (and their wives) and offers the brilliant idea of ordering food or restaurant hopping, when he senses she'd rather laugh than sweat. I'm targeting that husband who appreciates his wife floating into the darkness of their bedroom or kitchen the moment his friends arrive, nodding sweetly and quietly, while waiting for the cue to serve the next dish.

Last Friday, Mylo and I carpooled with his colleague on our way back from work. Mylo had related funny anecdotes of this colleague and I imagined it to be a laugh-till-a-little-pee-comes-out drive. They pick me up and I'm all nice and asking him questions and waiting for a witty reply and he gives me drab responses. I figured he must be uncomfortable showing his funny side as it was the first time we had met - so I make an effort talking family and asking about his kid's chickenpox. Again nothing funny. Then, he starts talking work totally ignoring me. Now, Mylo is usually a kind man and is aware of his surroundings, and I'd always thought that's why I married him. But no, he dives straight into technical jargons and I feel like puking in the back seat.

Finally, as we near home, Mr.Colleague asks, "So will you be going home and cooking?" and angles his neck towards me.
(It's 8:45pm, take a wild guess Mister. I know your perfect wife is waiting with that hot dinner, but we don't care, and that includes my husband, coz he cares for me and understands that I can't be possibly cooking now, and so he himself will tell me to take rest and will order food in. Hah! And oh, by the way, now you have something to converse with me? And that too, about cooking?!) I stare out of the window as if I hadn't heard.

Mylo realizes my silence and says hesitantly, "Well....., today....... we might be eating outsaaaaaaide......."
"Oh you mean today too?"
By the way, did I mention this colleague is a malayalee? I have to, coz there's an add-on smirk to every question and answer from my countrymen. It dates back even to their board exam answer sheets, like "Yeah right, you think I'll answer that! Be glad at least I came. OK? OK." Also, my countrymen judge, and if you know this, the perspective of any of their responses will never stupefy you again. And when they marry, they judge more and smirk more as if they have or expect to have perfect wives who 'listen' to them, 'obey' them, and who know they don't 'need' to participate when 'men' are talking.

But I still believed my malayalee countryman, my husband, was different, until he responded.
"Well, you know, it's just the two of us..so...we...kinda...you know...do our own thing...."
Why in the world was he sounding apologetic?!
Anyway, to which Mr.Colleague responds in silence. Silence. If he had laughed, I'd have added something witty, but he didn't, and I knew what that 'silence' meant. He had judged me. Not Mylo and me, just me. Coz malayalee men are one brotherhood and they believe their wants and needs rise from a common spring and any painful ripple that disturbs its tranquility creates a telepathic bond of empathy, far more powerful than a woman's intuition.

In that instant, in the back seat of that car, I had become a disqualified wife flagged for contamination. I knew he'd never invite us home or let his wife meet me ever.

That night Mylo went to bed dinner-less and I finished our stock of chocolate cream biscuits. Vindication of the rights of women. Hah Ennoda!

When You Don't Know How to Drive

2010-05-17T15:12:00.000+05:30

... it's no fun owning a car. Seriously. If I were a blonde bimbo with a short skirt and a bikini top, I'd have ordered my way through this marriage. But then, we are this ordinary looking middle class couple. So when inside the car, I listen to my husband coz he's doing something pretty important which I'm ignorant about - driving.

Listening has everything to do with activity. When we've excitedly decided on a trip, I leave the house carrying water bottles, snacks, change of clothes, caps, umbrella, camera, route directions, hand bag and, batteries. He leaves with the car keys. Then he stands in the shade and asks me to get inside the car and start the AC. This because we only have open car parking at our apartment and the heat is terrible. So I get inside, get the AC on, arrange the stuff inside and wait for the grinning tormentor to get in.

Then we begin the trip. Yay!

There comes the toll gate, get the money.
I'm hungry, peel the orange and place them in my mouth.
Open the glove box I think I left that CD somewhere in there. Oops! Didn't see that hump, does it hurt?
Get that tissue box from the backseat, I can't turn coz I don't want that guy to overtake us!
Check Trip A, I need to know how many kilometers so I can purposely use some weird calculation to see the mileage we're getting.
Why aren't you taking any pictures?
Check if there are any vehicles coming from over my head.
I can't stop while you're drinking water, we're late.
Go buy it na, I'm too tired driving, so will wait for you inside the car.
See I'm driving, so I can't ask for directions and look for landmarks. You aren't doing anything! Why can't you do it?!

Sometimes I wonder if Mylo had a questionable past as a lorry driver who never got a cleaner to assist him. That's why children, studying history is important, it prepares you for the future. Anyway, one early morning he took me to the Marina and introduced me to the driver's seat. I instantly hated that insecure gear and that bloody clutch thinks no less of itself! Then he comes around and exclaims "See! Now you know how hard it is to drive. And why I'm so famished when I get home. And why I need you to do the rest of the work at home. And why it's important I need to have homemade nutritious food!"

So I made a few decisions:
Join professional driving classes
Get a maid
Get a cook

Love will keep us alive.

Parents

2010-03-27T17:59:00.000+05:30

I believe after a certain age, it's a blessing to be able to see your parents everyday. I actually never wished for it or thought of it while I was away studying, working or busy being married.

Now, when I take life at the pace I want it, it's an overwhelming completeness to have them beside me. As a child, I was never too close to them, though being Papa's pet was an enviable advantage. But I had my brother and he was all the love and fun I needed.

Now, years later, I see each lock of their hair turning grey and their frame becoming smaller. I fear time's running out and there'd be a point when I won't see them ever, again. So I frantically make amends gift wrapping my time and money, and lacing it with love.

And as I start thinking about stepping into parenthood, I realize the strength and love they've passed onto me so subtly. And yet, as a pampered child, I want them around when I have a baby, so I can be sure, they'll turn out right, just the way we did. The way, we instinctively know, love and respect life.

Calling a Malayalee Husband 'Cheta'

2010-01-09T13:31:00.001+05:30

I can't. My in-laws think I do. My parents know I don't. He, doesn't care.

Then the phone rings and it's his Dad.
"Where's he? I've been trying him for a while. Did he go to office?"
"Went. Office. In the morning. I'll pass on the message immediately. How are you doing, Acha?"

I survive. Each time. Cleverly avoiding the nouns and the pronouns. From every egoistic autodriver to the proud idler who calls the silly TV show, all mallu men are called 'cheta.' In the right intonations, women make their mallu men do wonders with that word. And then there was me.

"Dude! I can't call you 'Cheta!' That's what I call my brother!"
"Hehahahahahhahaheeehehehe why can't you? eh? ego? fall at my feet and call me 'cheta.' What does your brother's wife call him?
"cheta"
"hehehehhehehehe, see!"
"Try"
"No"
"OK. Try combining it with my name. Aaah! See, that sounds like music to my ears."
"thwwrrrrrrrrrp"!
"OK stick to cheta"
"No!"
"Heheheehhe well, my family's gonna think you're disrespectful towards me. That's all"
"They don't know yet."
"Then make sure they don't know ever"

What did he contribute to my confusion? More.

So I tried. We tried. Juggled with a lot of puppy names for each other, so we could replace the 'cheta.' If we had married 10 years ago, he'd have been 'chuchu' and I'd have been 'tutu.' Age brings a lot of common sense into romance, so now we are stuck with our own multi-syllables.

So I decided on 'etta.' It's somewhere between cheta and nothing. It almost dissolves into a conversation that nobody would sense the lack of or presence of it. It is used only in conversations with my in-laws when I'm referring to him, but not directly to him. When I need to call out to him at my in-laws place, I will seek the help of bribed kids or friendly cousins. Otherwise I've decided to drop something loud enough.

When it's just us, in good ol' Chennai, I simply scream and he screams back. Life is much simpler when you communicate less.

Domesticated Chaos

2009-12-18T18:04:00.001+05:30

There I am narrating instances when I worked till I've mopped my own sweat, and his entire body transforms into a life-size "So?"

I don't like domestic chores. Neither does he. But the crucial difference is, he can pick the last clean plate on the shelf, and still be optimistic. Optimism in this case means me. In his imaginary tub of soiled clothes and piling vessels, he jumps in his naked eureka fervour, and I can see it in his eyes - 'housekeeping' is the missing label between 'wife' and 'woman!'

Mylo's latest strategy is to keep quiet during a fight. Which, by the way, makes me look real bad. Having realised his silence pisses me off, he holds on it with desperation. This gradually raises my decibels and turns it into a fight. Now, fight is a bad word. Argument would have been better, if not for that wicked silence!

If we were on TV, it would've been the 'ordinary nagging wife' with the 'oh-so-poor-husband,' and you would have surfed away. That's besides the point - but in that minutest second, your sympathies would have been with the husband. Which, Your Honour, need to be actually sent in the opposite direction!

I'm no nag! If my friends were near, I'd have loved to brazenly complain over a bottle of beer - "How different singlehood was! What fun we had! No wonder people call marriage the forbidden laddoo!"

Since I can't, I decided I'll give him a taste of his own medicine. I laid out my carpet of silence. And oh that man! He's doubly silent now and he does little chores in silence, as if he was chopping wood for the nazi army. The nerve! Today is the third day of silence. Yesterday, I offered a slight smile in the shape of a white flag and he walked past it!

Oh no Mr! I ain't goin on no guilt trip! I ain't gonna come and comfort you when I need the comforting! This is war! Here I come!

"When I Grow Up...

2009-07-20T19:48:00.012+05:30

I want to be a doctor." I have no idea why I said that. But I was 8 years old and it seemed to be a popular answer, so I stuck to it. My medical entrance rank was 19K + something. My dad shied away from our neighbours for a week. I was already reading Shakespeare. But this is much later.

One of my initial strongest urges actually was to work at a video rental. I still don't know what I was thinking. It was when my dad bought our first brand new Panasonic VCR along with rented copies of English Classics. I was hooked. The slight push which revealed the wide tape, the pause, the record, the fungus. I was a regular at the store and was disappointed when the sales girl knew nothing about movies but its alphabetical display. I imagined myself there, giving discourses of movies I loved most, suggesting the best titles, and ofcourse the opportunity of watching movies before anybody else did.

Weather intervened and I completed my Masters. I thought I'd become a Journalist, so all through the course I sported a cloth satchel and wore torn jeans with cotton kurtas. But then real life journalism is a lot more fabrication than my ego could take - I decided I'll test my noble side.

Joined my college of 5 years as a Lecturer. The first time I entered my classroom, all of them stood up to say, "Goodmorning Ma'm!" I said the exact same thing in return. That was the first hint. But then, I fell in love with my students, they were the best. That's all I cherish of my stint there. Then one day, I visited this bookshop near our college and this shopkeeper goes, "Teacher-ey, is this all?" For the past 5 years as a student, I've frequented you, and you refuse to recognize me and now I'm in this ridiculous sari and you go 'Teacher-ey!" I quit.

Recently, I realized it runs in the family. After a couple of drinks, my brother made his own little confession. He and his friends decided not to write their IAS exam because the guard refused them from parking their car at the exam center.

My dad still thinks my brother simply didn't pass the exam.

Come to think of it, our life's just an ordinary script with a different perspective - only, we make it a comedy.

Working From Home

2009-07-03T11:57:00.007+05:30

Yesterday, I realized I was claustrophobic. After an emotional confession, Mylo bunked work to take me to the dumbest movie in town, 'New York,' lined with popcorn and icecream.

I work from home. I'm a consultant and an entrepreneur. Yes, it's exciting and I love it. The biggest and most obvious reason: my primal needs are all on my terms - my sleep, my work hours, my entertainment schedule, my ideas at work.

So what gives? Simple concomitant realities of new WFHomies.

1. I imagine Mylo having roadside tea and samosa with his colleagues, guffawing on their boss' new sales strategy . I realize I have to 'make my own' coffee for a break that 'I need,' and worse - I have to drink it alone with nothing to laugh about. I prefer friends in their natural tangible form.

2. When I started off, one of my WFH pros was I can do my laundry at any time (imagining daily) warding off the usual backlog. Well, suffice is to say, Mylo scampers around during his rush hour for his missing shirt, only to find (i) it in the laundry basket (ii) me with a sympathy seeking grin

3. I thought I can wake up at 10am, and then I realized I have a husband who wakes up early and hungry.

4. One day at 11am - I decided I need a break. Let me see what on TV. Horror flick? What fun! Well. Now, every five minutes I turnaround for a quick scan. My ears hurt straining for unheard noises. I expect fingers walking on the floor at any time! It has become my pastime now, I spook the hell outta me.

5. I have been spilling stuff a lot these days. I owe it to the only active state of my body, my brain. I browse through 100s of links everyday, organize and assimilate them in my head and in my laptop. But then, I hardly have to move around to do this. This has led to the efficiency of my brain increasing and brain-arm coordination decreasing - which has led to unnecessary spillage. How's my theory? And I'm not even a science student! I just love myself!

6. I'm glad it's Mylo, who gives in but doesn't give up on me. If you ever think of WFH, make sure your mate will be OK with one-curry meals, your pajama layout, and your pajama needs of freaking out.

Having said all of that,

I get to scream at the credit card saleman and then laugh out loud after slamming the phone.

I also get to soak in my embarrassment when somebody cuts the phone while I continue talking.

And I can fall off my chair after my swivel dance and get back with bollywood grace.

I'm in my elements these days, you see.

Singing a Duet

2009-06-05T10:58:00.009+05:30

6:30 last evening: Ugh! I'll spend my lifetime at this kitchen sink weeding out the grass from this spinach! If Mylo wants to eat healthy, he better clean it himself! And he had to buy two bunches! There, I'm gonna return the second bunch to the fridge and quickly finish this one off.

7:00 last evening: Is that MY arm in the mirror? The other arm too! When did they become so big?!

8:00 last evening: I'm done with cooking and I'm wet with sweat. Let me try repairing the constipating toilet flush before I take my shower.

8:15 last evening: Oh you are back! What? No. I'm repairing the flush, you can't go in now! What?! Wait! Ugh! OK!! Fine! Go in, do your bit and fix the flush as well!

8:45 last evening: So you just put everything back in place but didn't 'fix' it? Ugh! Let's eat. Let me take my shower first.

9:30 dinner: You forget to pay the credit card bill? Oh comeon! You buy two BIG bunches of grass-filled spinach, do not help with fixing the flush and now the bill too!!! I'm done.

10:00 post dinner: Oh, so he wants to watch TV while fondling his tummy. I'm going to bed.

10:15 post dinner: There he comes. I hope he's not looking for the nail cutter. If he is, I'm not gonna tell him where it is.

"Where's the flute?"

"Eh? In that left shelf"

(Pulls chair near bed. Sits on it and stretches his legs to the bed)

Starts playing.

Smiles.

Sputters.

"I should practice more often, right? Have any song in mind?"

"Hmmm.... Oh yeah that one.... from that movie...."

Losing My Mind Over My Idea

2009-05-19T16:17:00.003+05:30

By the end of this month, we plan to visit Kerala for a friend's wedding and a family function. Both will happen on a weekend and we'll be spanning 3 districts. The point is, my closest friend is in Kerala now and I've been waiting to meet her. So I thought, maybe, I'd extend my stay, have loads of back-to-college kinda fun, while Mylo can return, well - to his work.

Last night, my parents called. Mom suggested I extend my stay (I'm waiting to be mom, so I can read my kids' minds), and I responded wondering about the dates, when the tummy-satiated, until-then-inactive Mylo, sprang from the sofa. Archimedes was then defeated. "Oh, you wanna stay back?" (trying hard to hide excitement) "it's OK, you can stay for a week and I'll come and pick you up that following weekend."

Whoever spoke about a WEEK???

Hmmmm

And it had become HIS idea too.

Me: "Hmmmm... I don't think so. I have some work and we're just getting back to a routine, so...."

Mylo: "Oh comeon! Don't you want to meet S? You should spend time with her"

Me: "No."

My imagination of my absence:

Booze in the bedroom
Dirty dining table
Spoils of the visible attempts at cooking
Piled unwashed clothes
Fan running in an empty house
Tap running in an empty house
Scattered newspapers
Tea cups rings on the furniture
Refrigerator museum
Not missing me - sigh!

My Realization:

Wasn't all that housekeeping?? Oh God! Have I become his trail? When I was single, I specifically remember not helping mom, then how did I get so good at it? Who am I?

The Question:

Now that he wants it, should I give it to him?

Ordinary Answer:

Well, I want to spend time with S, so I guess I'll extend my stay. Gods of sanitary sanity, all I can say is, I've updated your calendars.

10 Things I Learnt about Food Consumption in Marriage

2009-05-14T09:38:00.005+05:30

Food needs to be cooked everyday, more than once. Not counting refreshments.
Men eat, a lot. Women can only keep up by cooking.
Recipes race only through my head, not my body.
Remaining faithful to instant noodles was a prudent decision.
I'm eternally grateful to frozen dessicated coconut.
Not everything cooks as fast as potatoes.
I know I'll stir till I die. So I make stirring designs.
Research benefits of oats, cereal mixes, cornflakes do not impress men.
Puppy eyes, fatigue, love - absolute blackmail that works on me.
Complexity in ingredients adds value to the dish. My complex formula - change the order of the same ingredients for different dishes.

Well, nobody said I couldn't take short cuts to his heart!

With or Without AC

2009-05-08T09:42:00.007+05:30

Last weekend, Cheta, my brother, bought himself an AC. It's quite a celebration in Chennai and since we didn't have one then, Mylo and I were invited to spend some 'cold moments' with Cheta.

First, we went to Sathyam Cinemas and watched '2 Harihar Nagar.' (You mallus out there, malayalam cinema has gone to the dogs.) After a self tickling 3 hour session, we got to Cheta's place at 1am.

Now, I'm a person who'd prepare myself for the future, especially when it comes to luxury. So instead of taking change of clothes, I wore a thick kurtha for the night. We got to his flat and found half clothed men fanning themselves outside the building. There was no power.

Lack of luxury hits me quick. It's like there's no pain in the cut, but when you see blood, you start howling. I started sweating. Mylo had dragged his 3 ton laptop for work and wasn't looking amused. Cheta's very optimistic, so we climbed 3 floors. Mylo lost 200 gms of his beer belly.

Power came! We immediately rushed to the bedroom and put the AC on. AC brings in a lot of togetherness in the family. Romance can obviously wait. 5 mins and cold air was caressing us. Each of us took turns to stand in front of the AC, appreciating the model and taking in some 'private' air. Cheta and Mylo would open the bedroom door, put one step out and come back running - "It's sooooo hot outside! Hehehe!" - as if rest of the house was suffering.

Phut! Darkness!

We waited till 2:30am. Mylo finally took the decision of going to our AC-less home. He dragged his laptop 3 floors down, while we locked the door in the dark. As soon as we locked, lights came on. We ran to the balcony to see Jai Hanuman Mylo standing below with a helpless grin. He took the lift back up.

I Got a Blackberry!

2009-05-06T08:17:00.002+05:30

I got a Blackberry! I got a Blackberry! I got a Blackberry!

Mylo gifted me a Blackberry! It's my birthday today!!!

I'm jumping around! hehehehhe

*Thump*

I hit my head. That's OK. I'm still jumping around!

I got a Blackberry! I got a Blackberry!

Doordarshan, Darjeeling, Darling

2009-04-30T17:34:00.003+05:30

Years ago, when I knew nothing about sex, but surprisingly owed a lot of value to honeymoons, Doordarshan put a picture in my head - a romantic picture of Darjeeling.

The picture: On the left side, a huge tree trunk spreading its green leafy branches. At the bottom of the tree, a beautiful length of short grass with small colorful flowers reaching to right side of the frame. A couple stands beside the tree in a romantic embrace overlooking the still lake beyond.

My then juvenile mind decided that if I ever had a honeymoon, this would be it! I had promised myself, I'd go there with the love of my life, stand in the exact same position, take a pic and frame it! A testimony to my romantic dream.

The reality: My honeymoon was at Coonoor and I didn't complain much. But after 6 months of marriage, when Mylo (my love :D) and I discussed on our next trip, I screamed, 'Darjeeling." I sat him down, described that Doordarshany picture with puppy eyes and he obliged. I searched on Google images for a similar looking lake in Darjeeling, but nothing turned up. I should have known then.

Life's different on Doordarshan. Darjeeling was bustling with people. We heard there were two important lakes in Darjeeling, Senchal lake and Mirik lake. Senchal lake was closed to visitors as a few localites had decided to end their lives there. I told myself, Mirik must be it. That picture. After a long but beautiful drive amidst pine trees and sprawling tea gardens, we reached Mirik.

Mylo laughed. It looked like the lake in Ootty with no crowd. No thick tree, no blanket of green grass and flowers, no nothing. We just sat there on a wooden bench. I didn't feel like an embrace and he just laughed. Mirik would have seen murder..., but cajoling helped. For some consolation, I sigh probably the closed Senchal was the picture, but then I'd never find that out.

See! That's what you get for romancing a background.

I say, "Screw up!,' he says, "Patch up!"

2008-05-14T16:29:00.000+05:30

Me: You know what? ...
He: I don't know.

Me: I was thinking all day...
He: Correction. You were imagining all day.

Me: You wouldn't believe it! This...
He: I would.

Me: I don't think that's the right thing to do!
He: I can see our kids growing in a church.

Me: You didn't surprise me on my birthday!
He: That was the whole surprise.

Me: There's lightning. I think we should hang up. You know mobile...
He: Let's keep your lack of a science background between us.

Me: I love you.
He: I love you more.

Today Goin On Tomorrow

2007-09-05T21:37:00.000+05:30

My recent hair metamorphosis from all straight long to all curly short made a friend go "Einstein eh?" ( For a split sec me tried recollecting the last intelligent word that left my mouth)

A recent gift for the entire office - a shopping bag containing a toilet bag containing a toothbrush. Wha?? Me almost blew into my palm when no one's watchin.

My anorexic pillow losing its brawn (brains ruleth not in bed) and making me look for more muscular ones on eBay. (Noble reader, thou shalt express your love in any foam)

Me seeing tailless lizards, happy pregnancies (virginity never counts), sweaty chases and bad people while sleeping. Skinny pillow obvious culprit.

My hair thinking it's autumn. Me imagining winter.

Today's service message promises me 8 lakhs for the right answer: Himesh Reshammiya is a cook, singer or somethin else. Me positive Himesh sent me that message.

Guess What?

2007-08-27T21:40:00.000+05:30

I can choose the weekend and the spot to die. Can you?

Grooming Myself

2007-08-16T19:00:00.000+05:30

Methinks it's OK to get married now. For the rest of the world, that actually appears like a small nod meeting a thousand vigorous head movements which had begun a century ago. Sigh.

Me-however-thinks I'm not not wifey enough. Dare you not nod to that! Since I do not have the time or patience to actually woo/charm a guy, make sure he's sane, honest and blah blah, find the right time and finally propose (phew!), I've settled for the very Indian version of male female unison - The Arranged Marriage. Yeah I refuse the tea tray-sari ritual (much to Mummy's chagrin), I make my entry only after both families have swapped ancestral trees and economic equations and when I need to spend the least amount of time.

The last guy who came to 'see' me loves a heavy breakfast, eats his lunch at 3pm, his dinner at 6pm and wears clothes his mother buys him. I actually imagined waking up at 5 in the morning, all sweaty, making idlis with one hand and dosa with another, asking his mother for his size (:D) and ransacking the refrigerator at 11pm in a state of utmost hunger.

As if that was not enough, he was completely religious, attributing his piety to his mother. He gave me a financial breakdown of the amount of money that was spent on all the pujas in the last quarter. I'm not religious. But neither am I an atheist. I saw myself frantically jotting down various gods' names, their birthdays, their bad days and their vegan days. Then I saw myself forgetting to look at it. Sigh.

Methinks parents are not exactly wrong in marrying girls off so early. Look at me! I'm this absolute concoction of idiosyncratic maturity and sensible immaturity. I wouldn't have thought as much if I were 21. I don't know..probably. I would have yearningly looked for my parents' approval and nod. In fact I wouldn't be confused coz I wouldn't know what to be confused about!

So friends, rogues and countrymen, Ignorance is Marital Bliss.

Did I?

2007-08-03T15:48:00.001+05:30

I did not forget to tell you who I was. I just decided I'll save you some mental crunches.

I wonder what you know of me now. You've seen very little of me these few years. My smile, my string of malluisms that make you laugh and small packets of gifts. That's what I've shown you. "She has grown to be confident, mature and sensible... not to mention successful." Wouldn't that be your summary? I've worked hard and faked enough to perfect that picture.

But did I tell you that I've cried entire nights till I was out of breath? Did I tell you I've got drunk and decided to celebrate my birthday again because I didn't like it that day? Did I tell you about the assholes I brought into my life? And the bitches who tread o'er me? Did I tell you they stole a part of me to fill in something I was better off without?

Did I tell you I missed you both? Wished that I could hug you and whisper 'I love you' but couldn't. Did I tell you I envy others who do?

Did I tell you I sometimes wished I was born to someone else? Did I tell you it's not fun to know so much so early in life? Did I tell you I feel like an uncrowned prodigy of meaninglessness?

Did I tell you I pat myself for not being an ignorant fool who is shocked at life's every turn? Did I tell you that I owe that to you?

Did I tell you I've become a bundle of contradictions... and probably you are one too?
That I'm fearful of the future and that you cannot help me?

Did I tell you I wish sanity wouldn't let go of me?
Did I tell you my silence rests on little regret?

Did I...?

"Aaah yes Papa, Mummy's ready, let's go!"

I Finally Went Trekking

2007-07-17T09:30:00.000+05:30

When I arrived sleepy eyed at Hospet Junction (Karnataka), I had no clue what was in store. It was just a trip to see Hampi (the famous ruins) and Jog Falls and capture them with my camera - a much awaited trip to explore photography. Then arrived Christelle's friends Amirth and Vignesh and there started our adventurous trip.

From Hospet it took us around 20 minutes to reach Hampi. What amazed me was the local bus meandering through the ruins like some wildlife safari. I'm used to places of archaeological interest to be a little away from the ordinary roads of life. But here, there were clean white arrow-shaped boards signifying a historic temple on either side of the road. No shops, no rural hustle, just plain ruins with labels. As expected, the localites in the bus continued with their daily conversations, while I was frantically gaping through both windows.

We stayed at the KSDC Mayura Hotel, a pretty decent maze like hotel with affordable rooms. Since Christelle and I can't do justice to two-wheelers, we hired an auto for the day. The sun was merciless and we waited patiently for a solitary cloud to cover the sun and immediately take our shot. The temples were many and spectacular. About its history, I'd be the wrong guide, but it's beauty, well I love to speak with my pictures.

After a sun-drained day, we settled at Mango Tree, a small riverside joint. Quite creative, it had wide stone steps to sit on and long wooden stools which served as tables. And one strong wooden swing hanging from the mango tree which would swing you over the river. We sat there overlooking the serene Tungabhadra river, sipping..well..mango juice.

Next morning, we headed towards Shimoga, which was a six hour bus ride from Hospet. From Shimoga, another two hour bus ride took us to Jog Falls. Monsoons were looming large and we got off the bus ready to soak in rain. The State run guest houses are pretty affordable at Rs.400/day. Considering the altitude, I was surprised to find cable TV with all the popular channels, aah some luxury. The guest house is a couple of meters from the falls and the rooms obviously come with 'the view.'

Amirth, I forgot to mention, is a passionate photographer. He carries a huge Pentax, complete with all accessories and an SLR. He woke up at 4 am, checked out the whole place, hovered around till the sun was up and then woke us up. Being the miserable Malayalee that I am, I had to take my bath in the cold morning (bad idea) before we went to take a closer view of the falls, or so Amirth said. As we neared, we saw steps amidst the shimmering greenery. Amirth immediately took the steps and we followed. Now, the point is I've never trekked or probably even looked up its exact meaning. As I took those slippery steps down the hill, I wasn't thinking that I needed to come back up too. But then as we fought the rain and the urge to shoot amidst the unruly bushes, I realized I'd rather bury myself at the foot of the hills - as my body whispered it was gonna be the point of no return.

Then I felt the winds bringing a shower of droplets onto my face and I looked up to see water gushing over me. I had reached the foot of the falls. It was a moment of indescribable ecstasy. There is something about nature that humbles you, shows you your cameo appearance on earth and its unquestionable permanence. Our cameras jumped out and there went a thousand clicks.
After philosophy comes reality, or is it vice versa? Anyway, I had to return to the hotel room where I belonged and before me was 250 meters of high slippery rocks with water flowing all around. Sigh! Vignesh, I should mention is the strongest person I've ever seen. Come rain, come shine, come rocky hills, he does not break into a sweat. Since my face reflected my body's predicament, he gratefully extended his arm and there I went climbing up the hill.

Amidst all this, I felt an immense gratitude to Nike floaters and undying love for Lakshmi for reminding me to take it. I tell you, they are awesome and I owe my returning in one piece to them, even if you think it is too much of an exaggeration. Please take my advice, carry them if you decide on similar journey, you won't regret it.

After many breaks and dizzy swirls, I finally reached the top. Completely drenched with sweat and rain. This is why a bath before a trek is a bad idea. I didn't want to see another step in my life, even if it were those red velvety ones. I suddenly saw lifts and elevators in new light. But as I crashed on my bed, my closed eyes could only see me looking up at the falls. That feeling, I must say, is a vision you will carry for life.

Next morning, we traveled back to Shimoga and caught the train to Bangalore. We would reach Bangalore at 6 in the morning and we had 12 hours to go for our train back to Hyderabad. Then this brilliant idea struck Amirth: Why not go to Hoganekkal? It's only 130km from here. We could return well in time for our trains. Us: Hmm, OK. Well, it turned to be 180kms and we ended up spending a total of 7 hours of travel for one hour at Hoganekkal. But then, it's always worth it. Unlike Hampi and Jog falls, Hoganekkal was crowded since it was a weekend. So we struggled our way through cold water flowing beneath our feet and the burning sun on our facess. Click, click, click and we bade goodbye to the last of our trip's attractions.
Our train to Hyderabad was at 6:20 and we miraculously reached at 6:18. Monday morning, my aching bones inched towards office.

4 days, 3 sights, 2 states, a thousand memories - and of course I finally trekked!

Fatigue

2007-07-05T10:00:00.000+05:30

206 squabbling relatives in my body.

As The Minute Hands Clap In My Head

2007-06-27T18:21:00.000+05:30

That day, couple of years ago, Lez looked at my sleepy eyes and told me, "You don't know how lucky you are to sleep so easily." I gave him a blank stare in return. He was another victim of the graveyard shift and I a student, a laid back one at that. Among others, working 36-48 hours non-stop was his record breaking feat. And I would think it was inhuman to make my friend work during the night and sacrilege that he himself feels it is a super-human feat.

Blessing was Lez' metaphor for sleep. Today, I work only during the day, but I stretch them to the other hemisphere everyday. Sometimes with work, sometimes ...coz I have nothing better to do. But every night, when I hear the slightest of noises, know when the fans pass out, sense Nag's sleepy movement and hear the neighbor's kid cry at 2 am, I realize I've flown a little away from the blessing.

I close my eyes, again. Sheep jump the fence and then stop in their tracks wondering why. I move to the next image. Nothing. Too much chaos in the silence. Pray. My prayers jumble up with my messed schedule today, flashes of faces... what's the next line in the prayer? Mercy? Sleep? or Amen?

Wiser Pangs

2007-06-18T13:41:00.000+05:30

You wonder when your 'recent' hits entered VH1 Classic
Then, you try to understand Mika

You don't know whether to call him Bhaiyya or Uncle
But you turn familiarly to "Aunty!"

You wonder when is the right time to use anti-wrinkle creams
And you hope you don't have to

Your mess is more organized
Even that 'right' man dare not mess around with it

You look at college kids and call them 'college kids hmph!'
And you never stop comparing

You wonder if virginity is a chaste belief after all
Your beliefs still take over you and you go home alone

You don't want to know when 'Titanic' was released
You say you hated that song and start counting

You realize you've started counting every related event
You wonder when 'months ago' turned to 'years ago'

Then, you realize it's just the beginning
The wiser thirties will be here soon.

A Different View

2007-06-12T19:02:00.000+05:30

One Rainy Evening Down South:
I waved frantically for an auto that rainy evening in Kochi. One yellow wonder finally obliged. He ripped through the busy streets and twisted lanes, while I released my fingers from all my shopping, felt my purse safely amidst that junk and checked my mobile for... well, time, missed calls, messages. Sigh.

Then I looked at the rear view mirror. If all the powers of reflection were right, his rear view mirror was focusing on my breasts(!). He had his head slightly tilted, so his dual purpose eyes could look at the road and my breasts at the same time. My ol' horny countryman! I slowly pulled one of the shopping bags, straightened the crumbled ends and held it close to protect my 'assets' from his safety device. The 40 degree tilt slowly turned to a neat 90 degree angle.

One Sunny Afternoon A Little Up South:
We are all born narcissists. And motorcyclists in Hyderabad take it one step further. This guy speeding through Panjagutta had both rear view mirrors twisted to reflect his own face. Aah! The wind in my hair, me singing on the bike, me talking on the mobile. I love me! The vehicles behind me? What? This is Hyderabad, didn't you know?!

I could repeat a discourse on traffic sense and morality. Instead I'll let them live with their rare view and me with mine.

Today's Monday

2007-05-21T17:55:00.000+05:30

But let me tell you about Sunday. On certain Sunday evenings, my brain functions like a school kid. While I'm lazily watching TV, one terrible fear returns. "It's Sunday!! Did I complete my homework?" Can you beat that?! Home work! Of all the things, homework. I'm bloody working now. I don't have any 'homework!'

You know what? I think it's cable TV that's driving me nuts. I've never missed seeing Mahabharatha and Ramayana. There is just no escape. Surf at any time and you'll see the same ol' Gods with ridiculous wigs and junk jewelry. There is no escape. I am getting older than the saga and they're not getting better with their arrows. And now, 'The Wonder Years,' 'Doogie Howser MD' and more. This is what I call retarded entertainment. Coz look at me. Some Sunday, some stupid episode and suddenly I wonder, "I've been idling away for a long time, did I complete my Physics homework???"

When a Scorpio Overtakes

2007-05-18T09:33:00.001+05:30

I watch with satisfaction. No, it's not the same with any other vehicle. I reserve the choicest of vocabulary for them. But Scorpio, it's the sexiest inanimate moving object on the face of this earth. Even assholes look good when they drive a Scorpio. Please don't call it just another four wheeler, it is the Scorpio. The only one. The power and wildness that no other motorized object can claim. It's a wild thing that owns every road. You Safaris, Sumos, Sierras, please step aside for a moment, coz a Scorpio has to pass.

When Harry Met Spidey

2007-05-09T12:38:00.000+05:30

I settled for Sandy.

Be Careful What You Wish For, You Just Might....

2007-05-02T10:29:00.000+05:30

Woke up late. Rushed through the shower. Still feeling low. Picked a traditional salwar kameez to match the feeling. AC not working in the cab. Sweat trickling. Hot golden brown pooris in a roadside stall. I want pooris for breakfast. Hmmm, so my previous wishes resulted in assholes, unfitting t-shirts and bad tummys. And people with close to perfect lives barely look upwards to complain and it's already solved. Think my wishes appear as jumbled codes. Reached office. Struggled to get that ID from my bag. Rushed into the lift. Laptop wondering to start or not to start. It's past 8:30. Damn. Rushed to the cafe. Pooris for breakfast.

Unequal Alms

2007-04-30T13:21:00.000+05:30

Amidst the heat and the suffocating smoke, this old woman limped herself to my auto at the traffic signal. I immediately nodded my head in refusal. She stretched her arm a little further into the auto hoping to tell me that she really wanted it and she meant it. Voices echoed in my head - "We shouldn't encourage beggars on the street," "they should work to earn a living, just as we do." "OK Papa." The signal stayed at red. Damn. I refused again, this time not bothering to look at her. Green. "Good Girl!"
Later that afternoon, I went to Phirangi Pani at the City Center. As I had been told, the music sucked. But then, the AC worked and the beer was chilled. As I settled comfortably in the leather sofa, I noticed we didn't have napkins on the table and no knives to challenge the chicken kebab. The bearer was far from being congenial. He was, however, prompt with the bill. Rs.420 plus VAT and What Not. Damn. By then I was satiated and realized that I was ripped and now out of courtesy of the hospitality industry I have to tip. Damn damn. I place Rs.20 in the leather folder. Don't think he was impressed. My mental calculation of 30% of the bill amount had my beer churning. So I grinned and walked out.

That was my hard earned money. I suddenly felt that old woman at the signal would have appreciated my silvery coins than this jerk who smirked at my crisp note. But hadn't I done my part right? - Appeared to know the norms, established myself as not being 'cheap' and almost attempted to be politely recognized the next time I visited. The old woman on the street, well, I wouldn't see her again. The odds had measured evenly. But I don't stop wondering each time I stretch my alms to tip.

Aap Jaisa Koi...

2007-04-27T14:48:00.000+05:30

She wasn't on the music scene for ages. Thought she'd married and settled abroad - the usual celebrity exit. Today she came back to my mind and decided to google her whereabouts. Nazia Hassan had died in 2000. I hadn't known.

Papa brought Disco Deewane into our lives when we were kids. We used to stay in Alwal then and had a Panasonic Cassette player. We were too young to know that there were other bands around and more cassettes too. So we were devoted to her, day in and day out. Her high-pitched melodies were my first introduction to music, the way I like it now. Cheta and I knew the lyrics by heart - from the popular Disco Deewane to the lesser known Dhundhali Raat to Komal to.... He used to take Zoheb's part and me Nazia, screeching at the top of our voices and imagining her with the only picture we had seen of her - This cover of our plastic cassette.
We still have that Panasonic, which Papa uses for radio. And for the cassette, well I don't remember the last time I saw it. It disappeared with the Tinkles and the Champaks. But I've continued to listen to her music. This post is my tribute to you Nazia, for you were my nursery rhyme of a different kind.

Of Questions and Probable Answers

2007-04-26T09:38:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, I wanted to set things right with a friend of mine with whom things had gone a wee bit awry. Or so I'd thought. From great pals, we had become casual acquaintances in the corridor. So we met. Surprisingly, she seemed quite unaware of my predicament or anxiety over our friendship. I indulged in 30 minutes of meaninglessness. All I learnt was that I had ignored her once and so she decided things were different and moved away. Fine. But what amazed me was the casualness of her responses. Coz during the conversation I suddenly felt like a frustrated wife trying to make sense with a chauvanistic husband, and he listened as if I was listing out the groceries for the week.

And what shocked her (and me) was my temper hitting the roof. I felt like an absolute dud. The billboard in my head blinked another 'Alas!' statement of the quarter.

My Realisation, My Questions:

People are just people. I should just let them be. My passion is not another's prerogative. [Of course, my common sense tells me that. How dumb do you think I am?]

But tell me what is life without passion, at least in small measure? No passion in love and friendship? How casual is casual? OK, larger question - How big a dud am I?

So I think too much, I already knew that. But don't others think at all? So their grey cells are used only for global initiatives of the third kind? And here I am bloody wasting my time! All the time, every time. 'Twice bitten, Never shy.' And each time I think, this is a different person and therefore, I cannot have the same experience. My @&&!

My Probable Answers:

So I decided I better do something about it. So I've listed 4 - these should help me outgrow the 'rural-girl-never-been-urbanized' mental syndrome.

Action Item #1 - Keep an arm's length of mental distance with everyone
Action Item #2 - Don't think too much, coz they aren't thinking about you, the relationship or any known emotional shit.
Action Item #3 - Be PASSIONATELY selfish. (I've seen that take people places, and I NEED to be passionate about something)
Action Item #4 - Shut my bloody mouth.

Amen!

A Rainbow With No Pot of Gold

2007-04-25T18:05:00.000+05:30

Numb
As I wake up to reality in the morning
As I forget where I left my comb when I reach out for my perfume
As I wait for my cab mates to arrive

Silence...
When I smell coffee and stare 8 floors down
When I suddenly lose track of what I was doing
When my lunch waits for company

Storm!
As grey matter beats the rising mercury
When songs don't soothe the nerves
And sleep doesn't matter anymore.

The Power of Fuck

2007-04-17T09:16:00.000+05:30

No, not the act (ahem), but the word. I have never believed in the power of profanity. I hear people around me say "Fuck!" when anything and everything goes amiss. From simple things like spilling coffee to graver truths like WMDs. And I used to wonder, what has Fuck got to do with it?! What's Fuck got to do with it?! Got to do with it? What's fuck, but a slang fitted notion! The initiated must have realised I took a jig at Turner's song. Others, well..leave it. So, in plain English, the word "fuck" means sexual intercourse. And I'm clueless why this came to be associated with all things asexual. When did we graduate from the milder 'damn' and stronger 'shit?' I can feel it. It's him. Freud is at it again. I'm sure about it. Don't you feel the chemistry?

Well, here's my tribute to the word. I do not use it with people I know or in front of people I know. I reserve it. Like ants save food for a rainy day, I save it for that rainy day when all hell breaks loose. And let me tell you, rainy days come by more often and are officially spread across all seasons. Well, to respect the climate on other days, I use "shit," "damn" and my all-time fav "nonsense." And if I need to write with some emphasis, I mix and match accessories on the keyboard - like @$$, $#%& and %$&^%&^%*#@$@@#$@$%^$&.

Recently, it rained. Rained heavily. So I used it with relish. "Fuck off!," "who the fuck are you?," "fucking bastard," "what the fuck do you think of yourself?" Let me tell you the gratification is inexplainable. I relished every moment of it. It was like homemade food after days of one-sided Maggie. Like chocolate pastry after a spicy meal. And like rain on a mercuric day.....

Goosebumps

2007-04-17T09:12:00.000+05:30

Have you ever waited for goosebumps to sprout while watching a thriller? And most importantly, been disappointed with the whole effort? Well, all noise and no **** makes White Noise a dull movie. Too many grainy monitors and lots of noise! Amidst the rising decibels, all I had to do was to decipher the "message". After a while I thought I'd decode it faster than Keaton. But then EVP got the better of me. Electronic Voice Phenomenon - that's what the movie's about. ****!

So I'm all sleepy. My eyes could entice an owl to sleep. And I'm still watching TV. These silly ads won't stop. All well built men are running in their sportswear for either Parachute brands (the world was waiting for this), Nokia phones (your friend always leaves his phone with you to test your athletic skills) or Thums Up (when Akshay is running out of his fav drink, he doesn't buy, he flicks from a moving truck). I apply Parachute on my hair, make calls using my Nokia and love drinking Thums Up. But I'd like to see as much variety in these ads as I see in these products. Naha!

So I'm still awake. Brooding about what to brood. Grainy little monitors still recording voices from the beyond. EVP can be very irritating. So our new maid Renuka is walking in the corridor. Let me bring you to our local thriller. You have a chill go down your spine when you hear our quintessential lady ghost in white sari walking with paused rhymes from her anklets. Renuka again. Why is Renuka walking around at 10:15 in the night? Why is Renuka running?

Nothing. She is returning ironed clothes to the neighbouring flats.

Goosebumps? Yes.

Goodnight!

HappYness

2007-03-26T18:07:00.000+05:30

Last night I saw 'The Pursuit of HappYness.' I was moved by the true life adaptation of Chris Gardner. Today I reached work and googled him. For once, Will Smith was successful in stopping me from oggling at him and I saw more of Chris and very little of Will.

Well, as the movie boiled down to its credits, I realised how grateful I was for the life I led. As Alice Walker so beautifully described, I saw more Color Purple around me. And then I wondered what was I pursuing. We are all pursuing things that lead to our notion of happYness. For you it's money, for him it's education, for her it's a wedding and for them, it's just happYness.

And what is not told is that this pursuit never ends. We shift our pursuits as we shift gears. And we shall always pursue the elusive happYness, coz she loves to fool you in each form. And as you have, I've begun my new pursuit of happYness.

Coughing with Karan

2007-03-20T17:40:00.000+05:30

Just like reading the Times of India, I've always felt Coffee with Karan was a terrible waste of time. But then, it was that time of the day when Springsteen was sitting on my head and crooning '57 Channels and nothin on.' So I gave in.

I met Kareena's li'l brain wondering why it was never allowed to grow up. And I met Shahid Kapoor and realised this new found respect - but still can't refrain from calling him a loser.

Then I wondered why would seemingly intelligent guys fall for such dumb bimbettes? Haven't the days of perceiving your girl as a trophy, an archaic phenomenon? Or is it just my unaware mind?

Take an aerial view:

HE - Great taste in movies, music and books. Has a greater understanding of human nature, matured to talk to, and does not recite his entire life history when asked 'How are you doin?' Has his head balanced on sensibility and sensitivity and is... this wins the cake .. willing to commit and be loyal FOREVER!

SHE - Horrible taste in everything that arouses the mind. Amazing taste in everything that arouses, the you-know-what. Cannot communicate without including exclamations, sighs and heaves of you-know-what. Can always speak more than asked, very sensitive to the self and never heard of the concept of sensibility. And... LOOKS FOR ROYAL LOSERS LIKE THE ABOVE.

What divine intervention brings people as intellectually diverse as these together? And what are these men thinking? How do they tolerate these feminine whimsical crap and want more of it? I've never been able to figure that out. I pride myself of some psychological understanding of human nature, but this continues to amaze me. I turn around and see more men hailing the coy trophy. Bitter Coffee Karan.

Always Up. Well..

2007-03-20T13:32:00.000+05:30

The latest ad from Reliance Life Insurance shows this young chap whose one lock of hair springs up despite all measures of bringing it down. He meets his gal at the coffee shop and VIOLA her hair spring up too. Na na, not all of her long tresses, just a short lock to offer symmetry to her friend's. Moral - Reliance investments have no risks, always up.

God bless! For that other part of the body was not used for all things up. Ahem.. Amen.

Speaking of that thing up, things are really getting bigger with Rediff. Watch this cheap guy overhearing suggestive statements across the office, cannot contain his curiosity, kneels at his colleague, looks at his crotch and asks, "Is it really that big?"

Kill me for my conservativeness - I can handle Moods and Kamasutra ads, but tell me, was this the only analogy that could be arrived at? Mail box and Male anatomy! Give me a break and let some originality slip through that crack!

Ballmark

2007-03-20T13:13:00.000+05:30

Me thinks our blue army will not perform unless threatened. Effigies need to be burnt, houses 'under construction' need to be attacked and the media needs to openly wonder if we are gonna follow the Samjhauta way.
I will wash your clothes. Please do not make our sole 1983 win a grandma's goodnight story.

Last Seat

2007-03-15T17:00:00.000+05:30

It was a promise that I had expected to be feathered by the weather. I took that seat in my head, the one called 'Understanding.' When I wanted to take that forbidden last seat, 'F### Off,' but couldn't.

Do you think there is a Turn Around Time for promises and expectations set in any relationship? If there isn't, then I think it stems from that larger concept called 'Understanding' that I am now glued to. And my pathetic chair seats only one - Me. My mind is a forest on fire when I'm let down. I believe and don't stop believing what is told, what is spoken and what is not. Fails, fails and fails, and I still believe.

I tell myself, "Do not fool yourself with empathy." And I remember long time ago Mummy advising, "Put yourself in his shoes." Now I've realised justifying every failure is just a state of denial.

A little too much of Cool Water today, it's nauseating me. It's one thing to smell good and another to suffocate yourself.

Coherence! Stop digressing! Singular thought process!

F###!

That Song!

2007-03-05T10:45:00.000+05:30

Remember that song 'Raah mein unse mulakaat ho gayi...?' Well, its chorus 'aahahahahahahaaaaaaa" just comes to me as a long burp at the most oddest of moments and I have to sing the rest of the song. And then my technicolor 70mm head is filled with Tabu walking against an artificial wind in that pink saree - with a pallu long enough to tie another saree - touching all the fake trees in the neighbourhood.

Then I see her and Ajay Devgan walking in opposite directions and the wind manipulating itself every frame to set their flying hair right. And I just can't forget that teeny weeny silly hair clip of hers which makes sure the first lock of hair does not cover her face. I track that hair clip and it disappears in the next frame, coz the wind is no longer side ways but on her face.

Damn! Those were my obervatory powers a little before cable TV told me I can't spend so much time tracking costume malfunctions across a variety of viewing goodies. But then DD was DD. And it doesn't hurt to be nostalgic. :D

Every other special day

2007-02-28T19:03:00.000+05:30

Like those road workers sharing a joke
That street kid entertaining his sister
And my camera nestled far away.

Like that 20km/hr drive to office
E50 living upto my musical needs
And questions wriggling in the background.

Like rain in Kerala
Like the earth smelling fresh
And my hopeless jingoism.

Like my religious relief
That fading pessimism
And new phoenix outlook

Like my urgency
Life's punctuations
And my pauses.

Like this and that
And all that's right
I sleep tight!

My Epitaph

2007-02-09T12:16:00.000+05:30

"Here lies one whose name was writ in water." - John Keats' epitaph.

Really love that one, probably mine could be as creative. We are so impatient about life - need to get there, need to make money, need to do it FAST! So my clairvoyant side tells me probably nobody'll have the time to be creative about my epitaph. Check this out:

Born on
Died on

That's it!!!! :(

So I shall make things easier. Hmmm... so let's see.. until now I've been a good girl. Fared well at studies, worked well... added a whole lotta awesome people into my life, loved like I've never been hurt, and had as much fun as I could in these bunch of years. I've been bad too. Driven my close ones to the horizon of no return with my psychological crap and troubled them crazy.

So, I've decided. Something that my graduation teacher exclaimed at the end of my banter.

My Epitaph:

"The Never-say-die girl!"

PS: Keep a safe distance from my tomb. :O

Kryptonite

2007-02-06T14:53:00.000+05:30

I just realised I'm stronger than I thought I was. If I ever fall weak, it's coz I'm my only Kryptonite.

Kryptonite - 3 Doors Down

I took a walk around the world to
Ease my troubled mind
I left my body laying somewhere
In the sands of time
I watched the world float to the dark
Side of the moon
I feel there is nothing I can do, yeah

I watched the world float to the
Dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be something
To do with you
I really don't mind what happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend at the end

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well, will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with
My superhuman might
Kryptonite

You called me strong, you called me weak
But your secrets I will keep
You took for granted all the times I
Never let you down
You stumbled in and bumped your head, if
Not for me then you would be dead
I picked you up and put you back
On solid ground

If I go crazy then will you still
Call me Superman
If I'm alive and well will you be
There holding my hand
I'll keep you by my side with my
Superhuman might
Kryptonite

END

Simplifly Deccan = Outcastes scrambling for seats

2007-01-16T08:19:00.000+05:30

Hmmm.. they offer free tickets when their flights are delayed for more than 4 hours. My flight was expected to leave at 7:30pm. Leaves at 11pm. Marketing mathematics. Middle class victims.

So I spend some of the (probably) most important moments of my life in the airport staring at tired heads resting on twisted elbows. I felt as if somebody violated my mental boundaries, taking this huge liberty with my time with no sense of remorse. Then I see a perfectly manicured Kingfisher airhostess giving the Deccans a sneer and striding towards her 'on time' flight.

And then after endless moments made no mark on history, I boarded the charter. I seated myself beside this middle-aged couple who lingered on the better half of the weight scales. Kaptaaan @%$#%^$%$# welcomes you aboard. The name was SIMPLI lost somewhere in my numbness. Soon, as the metal wings steadied itself, yellow birds came to sell their offerings. My fellow companion immediately ordered coke and sandwiches and saved it on his wife's lap. He showed her with ease how the tray can be opened and then as he was about to place his food... he did something that defied my sense of cleanliness. He smoothly stripped the headrest sheet (which also doubles up as Deccan's bid chart) off the seat ahead him and placed it on the tray and then placed his food on it. And I stared. Small gestures can lead to greater follies.

He returned my stare and I looked away. The following I suspect happened on purpose. I had bread crumbles all over me and an obtrusive elbow slowly taking ownership of my handrest. And then he burped - Pepsi, at me. Not once, coz I lost count. Some head popped out into the aisle trying to figure out the burp generator. I popped out my head too, to convince everybody that I was in the same geographical location, but it was not me!

And believe it or not, I somewhere heard a faint fart. It is something I'm still coming to terms with.

And then we landed, guess we all should. I was five hours late from my third dream. So the no-resolution me took the toughest decision affecting my finances - I won't fly Deccan again.

From 10D to Banjara Hills

2007-01-08T18:57:00.000+05:30

is what I've become. Life that Hyderabad offers. Luxury..coffeeday, harrahs, cinema paradiso, our place, subway, central...home, office, Luxury...mocha....

That's what my life has become. That exospheric layer of existence.

9/11 brought millions to the industry of psychiatry and psychological maintenance. Ever wondered why, inspite of worse disasters, we in India simply move on? No medical help required for the mind. We stand resolute in all that pain, agony and angst.

I fear, we are moving westwards. A globalization of a different kind - Weakness. A degeneration, decapacitating the potential of the mind.

I live around 1000 kms from home and I feel I'm light years away from common sense. The words I speak, the thoughts I think, the mistakes I make, the things I do, the relationships I make - all are sanctioned by my now relaxed values, my farther sanity, my cosmopolitan existence.

No regrets... just an anxiousness to what lies ahead... Insanity is just a thread away.

Confession

2006-12-18T17:38:00.000+05:30

OUTSIDE

INSIDE

As if I didn't know!

2006-12-18T17:26:00.000+05:30

My Inbox - Quote of the Day - "The only thing we know about the future is that it will be different." - Peter Drucker

Peter, comeon! As if I dint know that! Now that is not a happy thought. Is it? What the hell was the system thinking when it popped that up? Mocking me? Hah!

Ofcourse I know my future is going to be different. I want to know how different. Impatience! It's like a holiday you have planned and the only thing you have on your mind is to hop onto that plane. Nothing in between. So tell me what's in store?

Since providence gives you limited access in planning for the future, I'm stuck. I need to rely on abstract concepts..which includes life, patience, prayer... future. Abstractness rules. Think about it!

Now this is my second post with a trail of uncertainity. Freaking hell, it's not out of choice. It's out of realisation, like Coleridge realising his poetic juice had drained away and he couldn't tickle the muse any more. But I have hope. It's just that I'm impatient. It infuriates me further when it involves others, and they care less. Your life is not completely in your hands.

As if providence wasn't enough, social beings have limited our access further. Past is the only ground, you can play on. Not worth it.

Ever Ever, And Ever Ever?

2006-12-01T18:24:00.000+05:30

We would all like to believe that things are fine. I'm telling you they are not. That's just wishful thinking, God's brilliant way to fool around with our wired heads.

I don't like waking up at 6:45 for work. Worse, I hate it when I can't sleep beyond 6:45 during weekends. So this leads to malfunctions of all sorts. I crave for hypothetical, metaphysical, and in some weird way, supernatural needs, which will ease my already lazy life.

ASIDE "Did you notice, how I HAVE to bring in a thousand thoughts in one sentence? Since I mentioned it, you thought I was gonna work towards simple sentences - Hah! Gotcha!
So back to my state-of-the-art wants, needs and wishlist.

I'd like a whole new music list. My own virtual, artificially intelligent 'By Demand' live support. My slave (or a more appropriate 'genie' would suffice?) who reads my mind, my mood and my every other humanitarian cell. :D

I want to travel. Travel alone and travel with company. I want my solitude and company-requesting half to somehow coordinate itself.

I want to read. It's like that feeling of extreme pedanthood when you enter an ancient library. I want to absorb, you are right, ABSORB knowledge when I'm in one. Like a Sponge...neat, you can't see how full I am. But close in on me and there opens the dam of knowledge. Viola!

I want Bose speakers - the most delicate and the most beautiful things on this earth. Impossible right now only because of temporary monetary problems, not because it needs the intrusion of Deus ex machina.

Hmmm... My looks are deceptive. Sane maturity rules on the outside, unfathomable violence of emotions inside.. Mental Inside :D Saddest self comment I've made in ages.

So look at it. Reading is anxiously meeting ground zero. I listen to the same songs everyday. I meet the same people everyday. I go back to the same places. I eat the same things. I put on the same amount of weight. I buy the same kinda clothes. AND... my thoughts are also the same.

I look down upon the Times of India and have been an all-time fan of The Hindu. So if those were both ends of the scale, I'm sliding towards the intellectual parameters of the Times. Yuck! I said it. I blurted that awful truth to myself.

What next? My constant question. Impatience in the head. Absolute impatience. Speaking of absolute, I'd love to indulge in Absolut Vodka sometime soon. Those were the drunken times, when time just didn't matter.

Ok, so I'm walking on quicksand now. I hate that. See, while we were studying, we move from one grade to another. Even passing the exams were a certainity. My point is, you knew where you were going. Now, NO. Nothing. No clues scattered around for effect, so godly calls, no SIGN, not even a whimper. I don't like that.

Do not suggest horoscopes. My subconscious mind is still recovering from some of its horrors.
Nothing's happening. What should happen? I dunno. Can't something happen? I wouldn't mind even an accident. But ofcourse only minor injuries... even a hospital is a welcome change. Damn!

Oh there he is! My mundaneness. I'm sucked into it. We are like lovers during courtship. Can't get enough of each other.

Catch ya later.

I met Imat

2006-10-16T17:59:00.000+05:30

Couple of months ago, I saw him through the glass doors of Subway in Banjara Hills. A tattered cloth bag slightly weighing down his li'l shoulders, few packs of chikkis in his left hand and an earnest attempt at locating his next customer. He caught my eye as he furtively opened the door, popped his head in to get a better view of Priyanka's new number and take a whiff of the privileged inside.

After the 6 inch sub had done its due to my inches, he approached me with his chikkis. I politely refused and left.

Yesterday I met him again after my Tuna sub. Nothing had changed, like what we remember of young street peddlars, the same... like my tuna, just the same - just like our complicated brand theory. As I leaned on the bike, he asked me in impeccable English, "Ma'm, would you like to buy a packet of chikkis?" He had piqued my attention as never before and we struck up a conversation.

Imat studied in class four, sold chikkis in the evening and improved his conversational skills on his bus ride from Mehdipatnam to Banjara Hills. Like any other motivational piece I had read, I met a potential candidate for a rags-to-riches story fending for survival. I had my camera, but couldn't take his picture. Just couldn't open it and focus. Probably I didn't want him to be labelled, commented and compared, as I had the rest of them. I didn't want him to be known... not till he had made it big, made it big enough when all the hurdles he would face would be deemed the 'rare practical experience' in a globalized world. An admirable story for the craving 'Haves.'

Yesterday I spent 60rs for 3 packets of chikkis which would cost not more than 30. My impulsive benevolence for a bright smile that made me pause...

Nice meeting you Imat.

One at a time...

2006-10-11T13:59:00.000+05:30

Lakshmi and I completed one year at Google on October 10, 2006. One year in Hyderabad... An year that sped past, an year we cherished, hoped and hated.... and yeah it changed our lives, in more ways than one.

So, we had to celebrate. After indecisions like Malgudi, Haveli and our sweet home, we settled for a margarita and a sangria at 10D...

Here we are..dim lights, seafood 2-way, me and my buddy.

My moon, everybody's moon

2006-10-11T13:50:00.000+05:30

Completely pockmarked, grey patches, mishapen - a cosmetic disaster, but one surreal globe of beauty. My eyes are never satiated. And when I weild a camera, there's no stopping me....

Numb

2006-09-22T19:01:00.000+05:30

Numbness of the grey matter is an interesting phase. When all passions are spent, this sets in. It's that dreamy posture where you are too high to be touched and scarred. My concentration level is at ground zero, my attention span has reduced by the hour and my eyes have lost sight.

I had to write

2006-09-07T19:16:00.000+05:30

Kundera has been waiting patiently. I’m lazy with the things I love. Like my reading, my music, my relationships and you. I don’t know why I didn’t come and meet you. It’s been so long. Is it that long journey that separates me from you… or the changed me?

Ganesh Chathurthi is in full swing outside. Crackers loud enough to realign all the heavenly bodies. Karnad’s ironical take on the elephant god is my favorite reason to love him. A personification of imperfection becomes our God of perfection. We lead a starved life, hungry for easy canonization. We are all half gods, light years away from the natal clouds of glory. Some lucky lesser mortals get to be such ironical idols. Damn you!

Noise, or more appropriately sound. How religious is it? Whether it’s a holy chant in the wee hours, five times a day or Sunday to Sunday, why do we need to call out? Silence is an outcaste to religion. And we sing and cry to invisible, mute deciders of our fate.

And you thought I was ok

2006-07-06T19:07:00.000+05:30

So did I! Like an unused slate in a long childhood, Hyderabad is learning the modern alphabets.
Life is complicated. And I need a simpler God.

My favorite spot in Hyderabad is my balcony. Bean bag, moon and those whistling clouds. A romantic's asylum and I'm bad at confiding.

My moon was not everybody's moon that night.
Crooked and forlorn, trying to smile through those scaly clouds
A drizzle on my feet and a lonestar offering double company.

And then that plane passed, like a stupid cupid's arrow
Making a mortal match in heaven, hearts of unequal halves.

And then I remembered those three stars.
That straight line - my constellation of memories.
How constant and elusive... like my cupid slug...
Anyway modern alphabets and traditional words.

And then it's today

2006-06-16T19:21:00.000+05:30

Like any other day. My silly monitor, my newly decorated desk, my bean bag at home, and my newly painted white ceiling. These are the views of my corporate life. No worries! Didn't you know I'm a hopeful pessimist?

Scribbling on Water

2006-06-16T18:34:00.000+05:30

If poetry is not your forte. Please don't venture ahead.

They are stray lines I grabbed sometimes in hurry, sometimes in paused thought.

STUCK (Sept1999)

Stuck, Stuck in the mud,
Hanging by a feather...........

He rings the bell incessantly.
What if he turns mad?
What if he hears the bell ringing in his ears?
Forever..............

He laughs at me......I hate him
He goes on laughing that sickening laugh........

BARE SOUL (19/6/2000)

Twitching eyes arouse
My superstitious mind.

I feel weak today.........
The horoscope was wrong.

My childhood hero
Now.........no more.

Faith departed...
Now he looks villainous.

Love is not lost
Love is found nowhere.

The shattered glass reminds me
The image was so temporary.

Betrayal of trust
No more confidante.

Appears to be the best
Invisibly to me, the worst.

Mechanical memories poured out
Supposed happy thoughts didn't creep in.

You make my heart heavy
Today tears came out.....

"Destination Anywhere"-My catchline
Seeking one-My heartline.

UNFOLDING (23/01/2001)

The flickering shadow,
The dark flame.

Folded words.....
In my closet soul.

Unwritten pens
Dusty words.

Time's watch,
Ticking reluctantly.

Half shut doors and minds,
Mechanical thoughts.

Ubiquitous penetrating eyes,
Narrowed vision.

"Once upon a time......"
Adult trivialities.

Wiping sweat and tears,
Come on, wipe my soul clean.

WISHFUL THINKING (Feb2001)

Jovial exchanges.....
Never knew...
GOD! That was great indeed!

Imposed "appropriations"
Learning.....
Beyond is where you actually are.

High aspirations at work.
Permissable sanctions?

Life is extra-ordeal-nary.
Calm and Contended I stand.

I am the sea.
I am the ocean.
I am nature.
I am human.

Today keeps the candles burning
For tomorrow is always worth the wait.

BYE FOR GOOD (Feb 2001)

From the stranger boy
To friend.....companion......finally to........
An achievement.........in a month!

Learning .....a two-way process,
Admiration filled with nothingness now.

Fool's paradise WAS my home.
I decided to move.

I asked the usually asked for.
You promised the same.

Somewhere I lost ......
Don't want to find it again.

So long farewell for the person who you are......
Who I think you are.......
Where you are.

Byes once said needn't be repeated.
GOD BE WITH YOU.

IN MY ROOM (20/02/2001)

Concentrated thoughts desert me,
Opium drugged mind,
Wired ambitions.

Bagged hearts leave......
Full of memories n' hope.

Forever friends emit
The weeping words.

I stand still
Ambivalent n' confused.

The earthquaked mind
Rootless futuristic propositions.

"To Do" stick notes adore my room,
Alert eyes shadowing my unfixed intentions.

Thoughts sediment.........
I revolt.........
They mix.......
The syrupy particles in the mother's womb.

Untelephoned friends,
Unlettered others.

Deserted urges
Bad Friend!

My round head
Unfitting the bumpy pillow.

The rough blanket
Trying hard to please.

Gratitude for the so long years
Taken for granted sans the expiry date.

I accept their apologies.

TUMOUR (25/02/2001)

Unholy knocks forever sound
I budge not.

They frisk me there.....
I bow my head.

Do you feel like this my dear?
Anxious answer unredressed.

Policed mind travelling afar,
Don't hold my body back!

I wriggle, hey! not in pain,
They saw what I missed.

"This is funny, isn't it?” his look said.
My absent weapons looking at the target.

Fingers cold and moist.
Palms sweating smelly wetness all the time.

Brains crack with pressure
Small clusters of tissues jut out.
My fingers fumble to keep them together.
Holes widen...the pain rising slowly.

Sleep! That is my sweet pill!
The wet pillow will do the rest.

MOSQUITOED MIND (28/02/2001)

My feverish mouth feels unbrushed.
The tongue rolls all over disinterestedly,
My palms press down over my itchy face.

Dry lips open horizontally,
White calciums stick out.
Ugh! Its a smile!
It needs to mature.

Oh! He is despicable!
Straying into my mind.

I have to behave myself,
He'll fulfill my dreams then.

His look doesn't stop at me now.
He finds unlikely resemblances.

My tongue moves to the lips......
The mosquito bit me out of concentration.

I can't write about children.
I don't remember.

Yesterday's teacup,
My sticky mouth print still at the rim.

I move to the next page,
Still stuck with yesterday.

"Your worry lines have disappeared", she said.
I never knew they were there.

He returned.
People shift like mosquitoes,
Leaving dead blood spots on my bed sheet,
Sometimes more...their fragile corpses.

My unusually evil fingers sandwich them.
Still more blood.

I didn't want to write today,
The pen clutched itself into my hand.

His deliberate looks do not fail me,
I'll bother later.

Scheduled days from now on,
And mosquitoes forever.

UNWELL (04/03/2001)

The arms enveloped the head.
My forehead on her left shoulder.
My head calms, loving the weight of her hands.

The weak sockets hold the living balls.
My ten tonne head shifts its gaze,
Vagueness register.

The night-bathed head feels the water dripping inside,
Tomorrow it will tap out through my nostrils.
She has a problem with it.

My mind now in a gummy bubble,
"Bubbles burst in the sunshine dear".

I zipped my spinal cord straight,
My head still can't stand its weight.

The neck bolts rotate for blood circulation,
IT doesn't stop when the neck stops.

One noodley hair sneezes my nose,
I use five fingers to tame it.

Listen! I do the talking here!
Behave yourself body!
For tomorrow...
I should wear heels.

FRAIL KILLINGS (12/03/2001)

Curtains around to wake me up,
Killing the furious sleep to oblivion.

Jumpy starts ,slow turns
She called me a "never die girl".

The scream prolonged......
Wish I could count the decibels.

Trusting best friends for gateways.
Loving the words and the moments

Dire straits humbly present,
Quest for the revolutionary family notion.

Glorious thoughts die hard.

AS THE COINS JINGLE (11/04/2001)

Four under a roof.
Falling coins in a money box.

Heads and tails,
Frogs and snakes,
All are ready with their tales.

Disinterested attention, who cares?
The one who rattles, rattles unawares.

A rope stretching afar...
Prompting itself to tie a noose,
I have no complaints until I break loose.

"There is light in this jungle", the other voice budged,
"Jungles aren't denser there", the stubborn rest judged.

I sing songs in my dreams.
Dance to the unknown chants.
Accompanied always...yet,
Tracing each eye for the ONE without a chance.

PUFFED EYES (02/05/2001)

Idiot minds glued to four sided screens,
Cherishing moments ganging up in turmoil.
Hair intertwined on tiny full-blown heads.
Sedentary policies...killing responsibilities with a remote.

Have I lost the saner route of survival?
My jocular deeds take me to widening freezers of the calculating mind.
Logic and reason liaison with my dreams
Secreting the unfinished products of wasteful imagination.

A scream settles on my graveyarded mind,
Fumes of souls nearby thankfully flee.
I am still asleep.

FOETAL ADULT (12/6/01)

From the unborn child
Till the point of no return
I cherish you my dear.

God posts his letters to me
Tutors galore…
But I bask in illiteracy.

WORDS (19/01/02)

Words are like elements in the air,
I receive them in one form,
And breathe them out in another.

Clayful playthings, moulding me along with it,
Shining bright lights at me, enticing and inviting.

WONDERED WHY (04/07/02)

Rote emotions play a bad show
End of a commotion

Dizzy I feel...saccharine coated life
Exploring living reasons for survival

Finding uncaged friends in cages....
Discovering myself in none...