NOSTALGIC MOMENTS

Book Review---"A Calender Too Crowded"

2012-01-24T16:33:00.015+11:00

Book Title: A Calender Too Crowded.

Author: Sagarika Chakraborty.

Born in Kolkata, Sagarika Chakraborty studied law at National Law University, Jodhpur and is currently studying management at IBM Hyderabad.
She is an avid salsa enthusiast.
Apart from her contribution to the field of research, she writes light fiction and poetry for online and print media.

Price: Rs 295/-

Publishing House: Niyogi Books.

A smile crossed my face as i switched on my laptop to post in a review about the book i had just finished savouring.
The calender reminded me it was the 24th of January---The National Day Of The Girl Child..What better day to write about a wonderfully crafted book on the need of emancipation of women and awareness about their status in society than today?

"A Calender Too Crowded" is a collection of poignant stories that revolve around the theme of womanhood and their continuing subjugation in society.
It deals with the need for emancipation of the fairer sex in an unfair society.It reveals the ugly truth carefully camouflaged by a hypocritical society of so-called 'equals'.

The book is divided into segments based on the calender months, carefully listing out the special days heralding woman rights in each month---before proceeding to narrate heart wrenching tales from rural and urban India.
While stories like 'The witch without a broomstick' and 'When the Ganges ran dry' speak about the injustice stemming from widowhood and biased mindsets, there is 'The homecoming' wherein a woman is given complete freedom to make a difficult decision and how her heart helps her in sorting out the confusion.

Repeated mention of characters from The Mahabharata helps the reader relate an era gone by to the present day world and likewise the position of women in each.

One amongst my favorites is a beautifully written letter addressed to Krishna by Panchali, wherein she reminds him on how a sense of equal friendship had prevailed over her as she ripped her Saree to dress his bleeding wound, when he was attacked by Shishupal.
Her innocent questions like "If the same was acceptable then, why is a hue and cry raised today when a woman stands up for a friend, who incidentally happens to be a man?" makes one ponder whether we are really living in a progressive society or a society in which women's emancipation (that we believe we are fighting for) is something that had already existed since time immemorial and is just covered under layers of dust?

The myths associated with the glamour world is discussed upon and so is the concept of the 'nice girl' who deserves much better.
With an equally sharp razor edged cynicism, Sagarika speaks of the insensitive remarks passed by society on rape victims 'inviting' it upon themselves, by blaming it on the way they dress or the timing that they return home.
Topics like prostitution, dowry deaths, infertility and single motherhood are also woven into stories that make one not just feel a lump in their throat but also swallow the acrid taste of reality and bitterness that surfaces up from time to time, while reading---the reality and bitterness that comes from the guilt of living in a society where womanhood is still cursed and trampled upon.

"Daughter-in-law's can never really become daughters and mother-in-law's can never really become mothers, but when do they cease to be human beings with minds and hearts?"
In her story about the dowry system, Sagarika makes us wonder whether the mark of the vermillon is a reason for security or the cause for insecurity.

Not disclosing a single name (neither real nor imaginary) in any of the twenty-two stories, Sagarika stands totally justified in saying that each of the story represents millions of oppressed souls, waiting to be heard.

Poetry is another strong form of expression which has been successfully made use of in "Can you hear me, ma?', 'Beyond those whispers' and 'The 'positive' negativity'.
Behind the rhyme and verses lies the harsh truth, subtle cynicism and a hint of optimism carefully wrapped in a neat little package.

The letters exchanged between chipku and her ammi in 'selling a body to gain a mind' are indeed heartwarming and speak volumes of a mother's love---ready to sacrifice every bit of her life for her daughter's good.The realisation that it is only when the girl child is educated that she will be able to get out of the drudgery that her mother had to face and will be able to live a life that is different and better than hers, is something that should not be ignored amidst the sea of emotions here.Very cleverly crafted, this story makes a special place in your heart.

What i particularly liked about Sagarika's writing is her optimism---the tiny beam of hope that is reflected in each of the stories, no matter how dark and sombre they may be---a hope that things can change..the optimism that things will.
The easy language and interesting flow of the stories compels the reader to be pulled into each of the stories and stay engrossed.
Sagarika Chakraborty's choice of topic has not only managed to impress me, but has also fuelled the flicker of hope that in the age of better selling romantic novels and Chick lit's, there still exists young minds that choose to write about topics far more important and yet far less discussed.

However, I only wish some of the stories could have had a little dialogue exchange between characters as that would probably have had a little more of an impact on the reader's mind.

All in all, I really liked the book and highly recommend it.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

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A million brilliant lies...

2012-01-19T15:24:00.010+11:00

You had a million brilliant lies,
when I asked if you missed me...
You had a million brilliant lies,
when I asked if you cared...
You had a million brilliant lies,
for every time you kissed me...
You had a million brilliant lies,
and at last, the truth to speak you dared...

You tell me now that you love another,
and that things are not the same...
You tell me you see a bit of heaven,
whenever she calls out your name...

You tell me she means something,
but think i am the one for you...
You tell me that you love her,
but say you love me too...

I have a million brilliant lies,
when you ask me if i will stay...
I have a million brilliant lies,
to promise to 'share' you this way...
I have a million brilliant lies,
to keep this wedding band...
I have a million brilliant lies,
to vow and hold your hand...

You chose to speak the truth at last,
and now I should do that too...
I have to let you know today,
that i am no more in love with you...

When i asked you if you missed me,
I could never believe your lie...
Everytime that you kissed me,
I would whisper a silent goodbye...

I had a million brilliant lies,
to think our love hadn't faded...
I had a million brilliant lies,
to tell myself we were fine...
I had a million brilliant lies,
to keep my heart from getting jaded...
I had a million brilliant lies,
to say that you were all mine...

But creeps in reality-through slits and cracks,
and paints the whole world blue...
And as she entered into your heart,
I fell out of love with you...

For a heart that loves always knows,
when someone else arrives...
and love is just a matter of trust,
not a million brilliant lies...

Life as a doctor---The Hippocratic Oath

2012-01-10T01:26:00.007+11:00

A sharp mind should know to care,
a fiery tongue should neither curse nor swear,
for a caring mind is the one that wins,
and a tongue that swears is a tongue that sins...

"Mr Dattatray Dessai, you can go home today.You are completely fit for discharge" I said handing out the discharge card to the dhoti clad man sitting upright on the hospital bed.
The air smelled of incense sticks and talcum powder.Entering that private 'VIP' hospital room was like entering a parallel universe especially after having inhaled the smell of savlon and betadine dressings in the general ICU outside.

There were no follow up details to be mentioned and neither was there any prescription to be instructed upon.The patient had insisted on getting admitted and much to my disdain, the authorities had decided to humour him.
But there was not much a humble intern could say in such a situation---and so I had watched a perfectly healthy Mr Dattatray Dessai (bag et al) comfortably walk into the private room with a cheeky grin on face and an apparently long holiday in mind.

It was just the beginning of my internship then.After the tumultous 4 and a half years of MBBS torture, I had finally started living my dream (one that every medical student looks forward to, right from the first day of medical school) in the department of internal medicine.

...life as a doctor had just begun.

"I have already informed that i would like to stay here for atleast another couple of weeks" frowned Mr Dessai, like an angry tenant who had been suddenly told to vacate from a comfortable lodging.

A little taken aback by his rude reaction, i said "You are absolutely fine, Mr Dessai.Yours was just a case of mild diarrhoea which could very well be managed at home itself."

I was trying my best to smile but my patience was wearing thin.
On the one hand, there was this Mr Dattatray who had been seeking shelter under a hospital roof, in the comforts of a private ward in the ICU for the last one week for no specific medical condition.While on the other hand, there was a shortage of available ICU beds due to which a lot of patients had to be shifted out into the general ward as soon as they would show the slightest sign of recovery.

"Doctor, we have spoken to your senior in charge about this.You seem to be new here.The matter has been settled." snapped the relative standing near the bed.

He then proceeded to punch some numbers in his cell phone and talk to a man he addressed as 'bhau'.
All this while, Mr Dattatray was comfortably peeling oranges and popping them in his mouth.
The room now smelled tangy and soon it would smell of all the other fruits kept on the side table.
This man was a threat to the fruit kingdom, i thought to myself---there had not been a single time i had entered his room and seen his mouth at rest.

Visions of mafia had started drifting in my head with the utterance of the name 'bhau'.
I whisked it away as a case of over imagination combined with a rather generous dose of bollywood influence and thought it was better to confirm what the senior resident in charge thought about the case, before i said anything more.

"You don't understand, Priyanka.This 'Bhausaheb' is a very powerful man.He has a lot of political connections.Dattatray Dessai has been working with him for over 15 years now and is almost like an older brother to him.I cannot take the risk of declining him any sort of privilege, no matter how unreasonable.One call to the dean and my job can be at risk."

In a low voice, he continued, "Look, everybody at the hospital knows that this man does not require any treatment anymore.In fact he never needed any hospital care to begin with.
When he insisted that we admit him, we tried to talk him into being shifted in the 'observation room' in the general ward.
But the private room is the only room in the whole medicine unit which has a functioning AC and now that he is so comfortable with all the other VIP facilities there, he is refusing to budge."

"But sir, there is a serious case of Falciparum malaria in ward 115.We cant deny that patient intensive care.You know that there are only two interns in that ward and 80 beds there.He needs to be here instead...under constant vigilance."
I could not believe my ears.We were bargaining a life for a stupid air conditioner.How much sillier could it get?

"I know about that Falciparum case and i have discussed it with the consultants as well.Everyone knows the seriousness of his situation.His latest blood reports show a haemoglobin level of 4gm% which could prove fatal." He looked at me for a second, his eyes reflecting a helpless guilt.

"We had planned on shifting him on to Mr Dessai's bed....but..." he stopped with the realisation that i already knew the story.
Looking at the residents crestfallen face, i realised that he was pretty much helpless.
From what it seemed, the Dean was in a vulnerable spot too---the pressures of hierarchy.

I was on call that night and i couldn't sleep a wink.As i repeatedly called Ankita, the intern in ward 115, i was informed of how much Gangaram Shirodkar--the F.Malaria patient, needed to be moved to the ICU.
While we cribbed and ranted about the hypocrisy of the entire system, i saw Bhau Saheb's relative sleep peacefully, snoring away to glory in the cool confines of the air conditioned room which was now smelling of what seemed to me, a nauseous mix of fruit salad and sandalwood.

I had to wake up for a few RBSL (Resting Blood Sugar Level) checks at 5.30 am.That meant there was hardly a couple of hours left and all the patients were stable.
The only sign of instability in the ICU was the whirring motion of the ceiling fan in the duty room and the racing thoughts in my head which kept going back to Gangaram, who should have been there instead of Dessai who could have very well gone home.

Since i was not sleeping anyway, i decided to go and help Ankita in the ward by then.Asking the nurse to call me on my cell in case of any emergency, i walked out of the ICU.
Along the long corridor which connected the ICU to ward 115, i saw one relative of Mr Dattatray Dessai, leaning against a wall and talking loudly into his cellphone, like he owned the hospital.
On seeing me, he smirked a little---as a sign of acknowledgement.

When i reached ward 115, Ankita greeted me with a nervous look on her face.She was entering with two pints of blood in hand.

"for the Falciparum patient?" i asked.

"Yes Pri, I don't know what is happening.There are so many patients here.I cant manage all this at once.Rashi has called in sick.I'm the only intern managing all this commotion." I was almost beginning to feel Ankita would collapse any moment.Her teary eyed face spoke volumes of responsibility.
Besides it was unfair of Rashi to have not arranged for another intern to compensate for her absence.But then, we couldn't blame her either---Sickness doesn't come with warning, does it?

I took the pints from her hand and asked her the details.She seemed like she could need all the relief one could possibly give her.I had one hour and 50 minutes to offer, if all went well back at the ICU.
Walking towards bed 22, i noticed a scrawny man of about 30.He looked pale and emaciated.The charts showed a fever which was peaking every two hours that day.Gangaram Shirodkar 32/M, the case papers read.
Below in big bold letters, the diagnosis read 'F.Malaria' with the used falcivax kit taped to the paper, showing a line at the place marked 'F' for falciparum.
As soon as i reached the side of the bed to transfuse the blood, a woman who was sleeping on the floor crawled out from underneath the bed.
Adjusting her tattered but clean cotton Saree, she greeted me and asked when her husband could be discharged.
When I told her that we would be shifting her husband to the ICU for better care, she immediately asked me when that would be possible.
Snippets from the conversation with Mr Dessai and later with the SR came to mind, and I fumbled for an answer.
"soon" I muttered.

She said nothing.She just smiled like someone who had been promised life so many times, that she did not believe in life (leave alone 'promises') anymore.

Behind that smile, i saw pain---pain of seeing her husband suffer in the suboptimal conditions in the ward when he needed intensive care.
Behind that smile, i saw hurt---hurt that we doctors were not doing anything about it and still claiming that the govt organisation was there to help the needy.
Behind that smile, i saw terror---terror of the unknown, of the darkness that lied ahead had the sole earning member of her family to disappear, leaving her and her three children in the jaws of poverty and inhumanity.

That was when i couldn't take it anymore.As i transfused the pint of blood, i felt a hot shame flush my face.

If we doctors ignored our judgement skills and refused to take action on something as simple and clear cut as this, then what use was our medical education, our long hours of burning the midnight oil to study for the exams and vivas that we rejoiced so much on clearing, the Hippocratic Oath we had taken such great pride in reading on graduation day?
What use was a medical degree if it enabled us to save a life and we still refused to save it?
My chain of thoughts was interrupted by the sudden grunting sounds coming from Gangaram.Even in his sleep, his wheezing could not be ignored---a sure sign of respiratory distress.
His rapid breathing, chest retractions, weak appearance screamed of his ailing condition, albeit in silence.

As i saw the woman fold her hands and shed tears in front of me, a surge of anger came over me---anger at the hypocrisy...anger at the injustice...anger at the politics...anger at the indifference.

Leaving a baffled Ankita alone to deal with the patients, i rushed back to the ICU.
Some things could not wait.

"Mr Dessai, can i come in?"
It was 5 am in the morning.A sleepy Mr Dessai mumbled a lazy 'good morning doctor' and shifted his posture from one arm to another.
I went inside and switched on all the lights in the room.By this time, he was fully awake and covering his eyes to accustom himself to the sudden brightness in the otherwise dimly lit room.

"Look Mr Dessai" i continued, "this is a Government hospital and the first duty of a Government hospital is to treat patients who cannot afford treatment elsewhere.I am not saying that you don't deserve to be treated here..but the simple fact is that you do not require any treatment and you should be extremely happy about being so lucky."
He was now sitting upright and staring at me.I felt like a ghost and hoped that he was awake enough to comprehend what i was saying.

"There is a patient in ward 115 who needs critical care.He is a daily wages labourer on a construction site, has a wife and three children to support.
While your relative is constantly with his ear attached to the phone, his children are crying in the hospital corridors because they are starving.
There is an intern in that ward going crazy with the workload and still trying her best to make sure that all her patients there receive at least half the treatment they are actually supposed to be receiving, hoping against hope that her effort will be enough to keep them alive.

and do you know who is responsible for all this?"
He looked at me like a lost child now.

"YOU Dessai...its you." The bitterness had started to surface in my voice.

"You mean to say that I am responsible for all the people suffering in your ward? how many people do you think would fit in this room if I vacate it?" he snorted angrily.

I had to maintain my cool now.I reminded myself of the power this identity had over the authority and I still had 11 months of internship to finish.

"Well, you are a wise man.You should understand that its not of luxury or comfort that we are debating about.
One case of Falciparum Malaria, if admitted in the ICU can receive much better care and optimal monitoring than in the wards which has over 80 beds.In fact its not even about the private room or the air conditioner.
These comforts are of no significance to that mason or his family---all they want is to get out of here...get out of this hospital, so that he can start working again and feed his hungry children.
Unfortunately, for that he needs your help." my voice trailed off again.

Mr Dessai was quiet for a while.

"Watch it, Doctor. Do you know who you are talking to? One call to the dean and you could be interning in some Godforsaken rural place instead." he said, in a haughty tone as he pulled the plate of fruit near him.

It was true, i had gotten myself into a sticky situation.But by now i no longer cared.

In a firm and clear voice i said, "Very well sir.If that is what it takes to stand up for what you believe in, i don't mind that at all.
Because no matter where i am, that one family out there will never forget me for what i tried to do but could not...
and never forgive you for what you could have done but did not."

"These are VIP rooms.You cannot depent on these.As far as i know, they are opened up only when special people are admitted." he muttered.
I noticed his tone had sobered down.I was not going to give up now.It was true that the room was labelled as a VIP room and it was also true that someone who the authorities feared, was considered a VIP.
I had to come up with a satisfactory reply to convince him.

After a moments pause, i asked "Mister dessai, what does VIP mean?"

"Very Important Person" he answered with a quizzical expression wondering where this was leading.
"Exactly!! Now take a wild guess, between a patient with F.Malaria requiring blood transfusions and one admitted for a simple bout of treated diarrhoea, which according to you would be more important to treat?"
I smiled and continued "You mister dessai, might read this sign here as 'Very Important Person' but I as a doctor would always read it as 'Very Important Patient'.
The abbreviation is the same.But when used at a hospital, it changes meaning and that makes all the difference."

The chair creaked as i got up to leave.

"Have a good day" i said and walked to the door keeping my fingers crossed, hoping the man would have a change of heart.
But this time he did not say anything.

As i continued with the BP (Blood Pressure) check, sugar level monitoring and morning rounds, i noticed that the lights in mister dessai's room never went off...they stayed on, just like how i had left them.

Tired from the night's duty, i dragged my feet back to the hostel at around 8.30 in the morning.
It was lucky that our new time table gave us interns a day off after night calls---I silently blessed Vithal, the ward boy who had helped us make the duty time table.
I slept the whole morning and woke up right on time for lunch.

There were 3 missed calls from Ankita and one text message waiting to be opened.

I could not help but smile as i read the text.
It was from the ICU SR and it said, "Dessai agreed to the discharge--told me to thank you..Falciparum patient moved to ICU.Good job!"

...life as a doctor had just begun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A special thanks to KFC and Indiblogger for the KFC gift voucher---a small excuse which stood testimony to a wonderful day out with friends.

The above post has been written for the contest 'Sets you on fire'organised by KFC on IndiBlogger.
If you liked reading this post, do vote for it here.

Cheers to faith,
cheers to life!!! :)

moody 'water' colors...

2012-01-04T16:51:00.001+11:00

Whispering clouds and thundering skies,
lightening dazzles the night so shy,
as i wander lonely on the street,
i notice people around me scurrying by...

the pitter patter of these drops of rain,
the scent of the earth much divine,
the musical sway of leaves on trees,
wild flowers with a freshness that shines...

i meet a girl with olive skin,
with a smile that does not meet the eye,
a deep sadness she must harbour there,
her heart seems burdened by a lie...

In silence as i watch her restrain,
i wonder how she hides her pain,
and then it dawns on me--she is trying,
but in the rain, who can see her crying?

Next i meet a man complaining,
who frets and sulks because its raining,
talks about the muck and mud,
like an angry cow chews cud...

I notice his shirt---its dirty now,
a car has splashed a puddle somehow,
his mood is foul, his anger fair,
its raining but he does not care...

As i walk by another lane,
i see a man with his lady love,
sheltering her from the lashing wind,
a match made by the heavens above...

Dancing and jumping mad with glee,
soaking wet and drenched insane,
i greet them, children of innocent age,
oblivious to worry or worldy gain...

Someone trying to hide his pain,
someone revealing his disdain,
sometimes a blessing, for some a bane,
its a wave of magic---this january rain!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writers note: There was a sudden downpour in my head...and as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow rightfully said, "The best thing one can do when its raining is to let it rain" ;)

cheers!!!

hello 2012

2012-01-02T16:57:00.005+11:00

♫ ♫ ♫ "Choti baaten...
Choti choti baaton ki hai yaadein bani,
Bhoole nahin beeti hui ek choti ghadi,
Janam janam se, aankhen bichaaye,
tere liye in rahon mein...♫ ♫

There are dreams from the past we wish we could just pick up and get into the present.
There are friendships cherished and tears shared.
There are stories lived and moments cherished.
There are realisations dawned and lessons valued.

and no matter how far we move ahead, there are memories we might have to put behind us but can never let go...

Cheers to another round of 365 days.
Cheers to another chance at life.

CHEERS TO A HAPPY YEAR AHEAD! :)

turnoffs list #3---"there's something about facebook"

2011-12-26T17:54:00.012+11:00

A friend of mine who knows me too well to know how much of a facebook addict i am, asked me to write about the annoying aspects of the network as a feature of the 'turnoffs' post chain i have on my blog.

Now for those who do not know of this existing trend on nostalgic moments and are wondering what we mean by the turnoffs series, its like this---sometimes when we feel extremely important and haughty, we like to believe we are the queen of may whom the world is trying extremely hard to please (for reasons unknown to anyone on the planet).And then we let our imagination run a little wilder and also complain and crib and nitpick about the things that put us off, all the while suffering from delusions of grandeur that there are millions of people out there reading us and treading on the path of self improvement while silently blessing us day in and out for our favour on mankind/woman kind alike.
Also when we have these bouts of excessive self confidence, we start addressing ourselves as "we".Sometimes we think it is our 'schizoid' personality at play, but our personal shrink has disposed it off as just a case of attention deficit.
Ofcourse we yelled out "off with his head" to an invisible guard in quite the psychotic style, to express our disappointment at his peasant like diagnosis, but he just proceeded to ignore and say that we are beginning to lack creativity and stealing lines from lewis caroll, thus bringing us falling from the throne, crown et al...sigh!

so after that little rant of madness we had up there, let us proceed with the point of the post (if there is any in the first place..or is there?)
ahhh..yes, facebook it is then!
*braces herself and counts one to ten*

now dont get me wrong..though im quite often found to haunt facebook much like betaal haunted the peepal tree, the truth is that nobody ever asked betaal what he did not like about it..maybe a sofa here, a little clearing of extra leaves, a little chopping down some branches, a rosewood coffee table there..err! (you get the drift?)

so when i was asked what i would like to change about facebook, i basically had just one thing to say (yea we are totally non fussy like that)---"FACEBOOKERS"
let me explain in point form what i find irritating about some facebookers, so that you busy creatures who hardly frequent my blog nowadays and have accidently dropped by, sit up and imagine this is serious stuff and take notice.

1) improper use of the 'like' option---Someone is burning with fever...someone has lost his car keys...someone just had a breakup and decided to update their status about it.
facebook is their way of getting over it perhaps---GOOD!
you are not commenting nor asking them how it happened---BAD!
you are instead 'like'ing their status message---FUGLY!

2) pics with self-distorted facial expressions---no! im not talking of bad photography skills or poor quality cams..i am talking about those 'i-am-so-kewl-i-dont-give-a-rats-arse-yo' wannabe's who deliberately put up a weird pic to show that they do not give a damn.
well, i wonder if they have ever considered the possibility of people like me who believe that they actually put those up because they know they cant look better and want the world to think that they can....hmmmm.
So the next time you put up a pic with squinted eyeballs with a tongue sticking out on one side and a hairstyle which could give einstein's fashion sense a run for his money, please continue---I YUM DIAGNOSING YOU!!!
On the flipside, portfolio pics have their own letdowns to offer.Formal behaviour scares me a little.

3) Food on facebook---if its something you have whipped up or a festive spread then that definitely is something you can be proud of.
but going to a restaurant and clicking pics of food and wine does not deserve any credit.In face in my opinion, going to a restaurant and clicking pics itself is a little strange.
ofcourse updating them on facebook (to top it, some do that with messy plates, half eaten stuff around...sheesh!) is a total different blasphemy altogether.

The polite way (if its soo important to you) would be to do a photo session after a good meal-that way everyone would be in a great mood as well (depending on the company that you are ofcourse) and you would be saved from the embarassment of the irritated glares of the waiters who cant help wishing you make up your mind over the damn menu, gobble the chow and raced back home, instead of delaying them over your petty facebook pic issues.
But ofcourse you'd never know that---because their rage and pent up frustration would be cleverly masked behind the wide molar to molar smile as they would politely offer to click a pic (and get over with it).
Afterall, you can never tell if they spat in the fresh basil pesto you ordered...the smile would remain right till you leave the place.

That was me digressing--but you would never be offered that pearl of wisdom if it wasnt for that. *glows with pride*

As for food pics on facebook, i think its no big deal..so why act like you are someone coming straight from somalia, new to those morsels of food all esctatic over seeing it?
(pretty much like those tourists who click pics of cows on indian roads)
but then again, its sometimes fun to see someone fussing over things like that.but i wouldnt be caught dead being that someone.

4) facebookshadi.com
This is what is done to those poor tortured souls who keep miles away from 'matrimonial aunties' and web based marriage services.Some distant relative or close kin is bound to direct people to the facebook account of miss/mr so and so and in will come emails requesting details and stuff.
Frankly i fail to understand how much one can gather from a profile pic and a few lines written as biodata for a social network? but i guess society like god works in weird ways.
Astill bigger turnoff is the aunty-uncle clan who are on facebook, mainly for the purpose of matchmaking.With no better thing to do, they befriend you---a harmless unsuspecting victim and then slowly but surely subject you to the torture of the apparently quintissential ~~hypocritical~~ 'saat phere-saat janam' concept they have in mind.

the best way to avoid these kinda friend requests is to put up the most ambiguous profile pics ever---better still would be pictures of a deserted beach or an eerie mountain place...or a cold winter (the more isolated the place, the better it is).You could alternate it with pictures of clumsy looking overweight toons like winnie the pooh, garfield or confused geniuses like calvin---a sure shot to keep them away from your profile by implanting the seed of doubt that you are either too kiddish or too crazy for a compromised situation like an arranged marriage.

There you go---yours truly has a quick fix to it all! tadaa!! (you are welcome)

5) supposed-to-be-friends who play 'dead'
You keep thinking that the so called friend is extinct on social networks until you notice that he/she is commenting and scribbling on all other walls except yours.
Well, the same goes for unanswered wishes, greetings, text messages and emails---if i dont receive a reply, its quite likely that you will never hear from me again.Not even the thought of you being run over by a bus or your facebook account being magically hacked will surface to mind--no not even for a second.

I believe in giving explanations to people who matter and i need them as well...thats just who i am...not even me can change that.

6) The 'Check out the rich me' attitude
Subtlety is an art, i say!
now maybe you can click a pic focussing on the bright red rose you are gifting your girlfriend while a hazy lamborgini stays parked waiting for you two to get in---you get the drift?
your friends on facebook are not visually impaired..they will notice the lamborgini.but the trick is you are not shoving it in their face (which by the way my friend is very 'looserish' and a big turn off as opposed to the former tactful charm).
What happens in the former case is that you present an illusion---an illusion that the rose and the girl matters more than the lamborgini.Its a different thing that you would rather get married to the latter if asked to chosse, but atleast your initial impression wouldnt be a let down and people (read 'me') wont think of you as an ass!

and with that, we rest our case...

7) why doll up dolls?
One of my friends has this absolutely adorable 2 year old who she dolls up with loads of makeup.When i first saw her pics on facebook, i was aghast.Each and every pic had a little bit of blush, lipstick, eye shadow, glitter and kohl.
Totally flummoxed, i called her up and asked her if she had used some photoshop application on the pics, to which she laughed and said it was makeup she was using.
2 years old and makeup??? i screached into the phone..and she told me that she had entered her baby in a kiddo beauty paegent which had first started the obsession and then she had started finding it so extremely cute that she would doll her up every now and then.
she further told me not to take it so seriously and check out how many 'like's the pic had got.
The pic had a whooping number of 312 likes and 150 comments..most comments read out "wowww" , "awesome" ," she's a total fashionista", "miss india" and the likes.not one had mentioned that she shouldnt have dolled up her baby like that.

I feebly clicked the 'like' option (out of fear that she did not take my lecturing the wrong way) and mentioned that she looked like an angel even without the makeup.but i felt like a hypocrite 'like'ing something that was a total let down.

Kids are best when they are treated as kids.
We dont need kidults---let their innocence thrive!

8) excessive pleasantries
you bitch behind my back---FUGLY!
you are still there on my facebook friend list though we hardly comment, like or acknowledge each other---FUGLIER!
you *mwwwaah*, *kucchus*, *hugggggg* me and i almost die out of shock every single time---FUGLIEST!
Seriously, why this kolaveri di!!! :-|

To sum it up, there are days...there are people...and there are days with people on social networking sites.
Like every other things in life, facebook too has its own set of 'good, bad and fugly' and like always we concentrate mostly on the blot on the canvas.(cmon guys, its the 'turnoffs series'..what do you expect?)
You do know that everything i write should be taken in tequila style anyway---with a dash of salt, a slice of lime and all in one shot ;)

All in all, i sheepishly confess that i am still very much a facebook addict.

Oh well, lets just say, i love to hate you! ;-)

SEASONS GREETINGS EVERYONE!!! ;)

the treadmill called 'life'

2011-12-15T15:04:00.006+11:00

Its funny how small day to day events can sometimes make you introspect about the deeper aspects of life.Well its getting a little common with me nowadays though.Everything from unlaundered clothes to messy rooms have started showing signs of a deeper philosophy which prevents me from clearing or making any changes, lest the philosophy vanishes and im left with an ordinary, mediocre, non analytical bend mind---my explanation for what others might consider just an ultra lazy attitude of a chronic procrastinator.
err..its a different thing that not many buy my story..but neverthless im sticking to it! *grins nervously*

Now without further digressing, let me narrate the life changing incident which brought about this sudden flash of brilliance.
*points to the halo of enlightenment on her head and goes into flashback mode*

So like any other bright and happy day, i was lazying around at home thinking of new ways of wasting time when i suddenly thought i should work out a little (with the festive season just around the corner, i would need to make space for the goodies im going to stuff myself with, or so i chided myself)
So with songs of yesteryears playing in my ipod, i got lost in a sweet little dream world of my own when the tread mill i was working out on, suddenly came to a halt with a crazy (in-a-life-threatening-kinda-way) jolt!

As the whole world started reeling in front of my eyes, i somehow gained control of my self by clasping tightly onto the sidebars for dear life and stepped off it.phew!!!!!

Cursing the power failure that caused the sudden catastrophe, i tried to regain my normal composure--but in vain.
My heart rate felt like it was competing in a marathon..the color had drained off my face and in one small moment, i had experienced one of worst panic attacks of my life..

But then this incident left me pondering on it long after and i couldn't help relating the whole episode to life.

Life too is somewhat like a treadmill isn't it?

---you keep running and running exhausting yourself out but at the end, you realise you are right where you started-full circle!

---the point of all the exercise (read 'effort) is not that its going to lead you somewhere.but that its going to change you into a more fit and healthier individual..

---sometimes there can be a sudden power failure and if you are not equipped with a crisis-management-auto-power-setup, its most likely that you suffer a sudden jolt just like i did..sigh!
Likewise, life also has a few rude surprises along the way.the challenge lies in facing them and then leaving them behind and moving on.

---If you start speeding up too quickly, it will only end up tiring you faster.The same logic holds true when you are ending your session.

---Warming up before a treadmill session always betters your capacity.your body needs to have an idea what you are preparing it for.
In life, we are not always guaranteed warm-ups..but when we are, we should make it a point never to miss them..Hope for the best and prepare for the worst!

----and last but not the least, the most striking similarity.life just like the treadmill, does not give immediate results..
so patience and perseverance is the key.

Being human, we always crave for fast results.and then we give up a little too early if our unrealistic goals are not reached.

So we got to remind ourselves that its a long life and often times it might seem to us that we are not getting anywhere..

but the end of it all, we are here just to enjoy the workout and feel good about ourselves.

cheers and keep smiling!!! :)

ae kaash chalte milke---a tribute to a legend...

2011-12-05T23:29:00.014+11:00

...and the whole nation is deeply mourning the loss of one of the most priceless gems of Indian Cinema...
"Dev Anand died in a hotel in London on 3 December 2011 (4 December 2011 by Indian time) of a cardiac arrest" the headlines revealed, breaking the hearts of millions of fans all over the world.

As i shuffled between the innumerable melodies saved in my favorite folder, i couldnot help but fondly remember the sweet and charming face of the legend who lisped them.

Those who know me would think that SRK is my favorite bolly star.But only those who know me really well would be able to tell you that it has always been this man---this man from an whole different era, much much older to the one im living in, but neverthless being able to make my heart skip a beat on watching him on the silver screen in his prime days...this man who with his silk smooth acting skills and charismatic attitude not just managed to be the heart throb of the 60s but also earn the respect of millions of fans all over with his never-say-die spirit and enthusiasm.

Dev Anand was and will always remain an inseperable part of indian cinema.His passion for cinema and enthusiasm for life is indeed commendable. His exemplary performance in movies 'Guide', 'Johny mera naam', 'teen deviyaan', 'Jewel thief', 'heera panna', 'hare rama hare krishna' are unforgetable---this acting genius was someone who could move you to tears and light up passion with equal intensity.
His unique style allowed him to carry off the most bizarre of fashions (which included the 'scarf and hat' look of the 60's) with so much panache that it stuck on to his image and even now is fondly imitated by people paying tributes.

I had the opportunity to meet this man for a film festival a couple of years back.
What i saw in him was a very humble personality, soft spoken and down to earth, taking the time to exchange a word or two with each of his fans gathered there.

"Jo Mil Gaya Usi Ko Muqaddar Samajh Liya
Jo Kho Gaya Maein Usko Bhulata Chala Gaya"

As people flocked to get his his autobiography autographed, i stood at a corner quietly looking at his face...wrinkled, old, tired and yet somehow there still was an unsettling calm about it---the calm that comes not with awards and accolades but with the satisfaction of having led a life he was proud of.
On being addressed as the 'evergreen' Dev Saab by someone from the audience, he crinkled up his eyes and laughed.

When an interviewer asked him the percentage of honesty in his autobiography, he immediately answered with "it was tough but before writing it, i had promised myself i would be 100% honest".
It was right then that i wanted to believe that man, with the charming smile, with the strange calm, with the soothing voice...the man who i had travelled back in time and fallen in love with.
On reaching home, i picked up 'romancing with life' from my library, a book which i had put down to read another day, mainly because i always ended up youtubing my collection of 'Dev Anand' songs instead. (yea, you dont just listen to Dev Anand songs, you youtube them!)
"dhup thi nasib mein, to dhup men liya hai dam
Chandani mili to hum, chandani mein so liye"

But i had decided to know more about this man.and so i read into the journey of his life.
Written in a wonderfully honest and interestingly soulful way, i could then understand the reason for the satisfaction on his face---this man kept no secrets!

From then on, my respect and admiration for him grew much more.
I would google interviews just to hear him speak about the simple complexities of life.
His song "main zindagi ka saath" will always remain my all time favorite, the others being haunting melodies---like "hai sabse madhur woh geet", "kabhi khud pe kabhi haalat pe", "jeevan ke safar mein", romantic tunes---like "abhi na jaao", "phoolon ke rang se", "chhoodi nahi mera", "yeh raat yeh chand", "accha jee main haari" and countless other tracks.
Even though i personally admire his acting qualities much more than his directorial abilities, i cannot help but admire this one man who ventured without the fear of getting lost...who stumbled but never fell...who kept on going his way no matter what others said...who lived as per his own terms.
A legend who romanced with life and loved it to the fullest.

"ae kaash chalte milke,
ye teen raahi dil ke,
chand aur main aur tu"

So let us travel back in time and express our fond admiration for this superstar who will stay 'evergreen' in our nostalgic moments for ever

We will miss you, Dev saab...

Book Review---"The Best Of Quest"

2011-11-30T18:41:00.024+11:00

In 1954, a magazine called 'Quest' appeared out of Bombay with Nissim Ezekiel at its helm---a quarterly of inquiry, criticism and ideas which Sir Nissim based on the following principles that everything about it had to have relevance to India..and that it was to be written by Indians for Indians-as in those days, anything foreign was glamourised including writers.

'Quest' stayed in circulation for a good two decades until Indira Gandhi’s emergency caused it to collapse.
Many renowned names that light up newspapers, magazines, academic journals and even television screens today, first made their mark with a piece in this magazine.
Decades lagter, three beautiful minds decided to compile poignant snippets from this magazine into a collection of varied genre so that our generation could have a glimpse of what once was (and still remains) a priceless piece of nostalgia and indian literature.

Book Title: The Best Of Quest.

Price: Rs 695/-

Publisher: Tranquebar Press

Editors: Laeeq Futehally, Achal Prabhala, Arshia Sattar.

'The Best of Quest' is a collection of some of the most striking essays, poems and stories to have appeared in the pages of the magazine.

The book is clearly classified into seven segments interspersed with ad's from yesteryears which bring around an air of nostalgia as the pages flip by (i have posted a few such ad pages in this review to render a whiff of that experience).

Now for a bit of individualised attention to each segment:
SEGMENT 1:The foreword by Achal Prabhala and Arshia Sattar
about how the journey started...the inspiration, the motivation and the rearrangement of space to confine memories and thoughts, views and opinions.

SEGMENT 2: In memoriam
which brings to light moments from the life of of Nissim Ezekiel, as fondly remembered and cherished by those who personally knew and interacted with him.
In his article 'someone like Nissim', Laeeq Futehally says "He wanted people to write not for money but because they had something to say that was worth saying."
Ever so often in life, all we need is one simple line to connect with a particular something or someone---one line which pulls at your heart strings...that one line you can relate to...that one line which melts the cold ice of indifference you feel for a stranger you hardly know about.
This was the line which managed to break down the wall between me--a random reader and a great writer as i delved more into the biographical pages of the book.

On reading further, i learnt that this man was not just a poet but a mentor and a source of inspiration to many a great writers.
Snippets of sepia tinted memories from Githa Hariharan, Raj Rao, Jane BHandari, Menka Shivdasani flood your heart with a sense of deep found respect for this man who was brutally honest and yet genuinely motivating in his own way.

His words to Menka Shivadasani "no matter what level you are at, you must always go a little higher" will stay with me forever---like precious pearls of advice from overheard conversation reaching you at a perfectly apt moment.
Here was someone whose poetry i used to read and admire, but never did i once contemplate on the kind of life he must have led.
Reading about him now from those who knew him closely gave me more insight into his life and greatness.
Yes, it was disheartening to read that Nissim was not in the state to read his biography when completed..but his memoirs definitely get a smile on your face..and he continues to live on forever---in his work.

SEGMENT 3: Essays And Opinions
'The Best Of Quest' has compiled some of the finest essays that have appeared in the magazine.
Articles ranging from Impact of religion on indias external affair to marriage morals to cinematography comparisns to pulp literature, it covers them all.

This segment deals with views on diverse topics and makes one ponder on the mental debate they evoke in the reader.
Though coming from a different era altogether, one is still compelled to relate it to current times as we all are aware that some issues are just pushed under the carpet and never resolved.

In the article 'Dichotomy in Hindu life and its Impact on external relations', Nirad. C. Chaudhary has clearly related this to the prevailence of opposing causes due to the pervasive dichotomy in hindu existence in our country which stand namely as;
solidarity ---> <--- disunity
megalomania ---> <---self abasement
Xenophobia ---> <---xenolatry
He has further explained beautifully and with valid examples how this holds true even in our modern day system.
Also pieces like 'the charisma of rajesh khanna' and 'what has dimple got that satyajit hasnt' take us down memory lane and discuss various changing trends of cinema and stardom.
Khushwant singh's in depth analysis on why delhi remains the eternal capital of india is also a must read.Written in his usual simplicity, this article manages to hold your interest in the mundane day to day details of a common life.

With a total of 45 articles in this segment, it becomes rather difficult to dissect each one based on its salient features and views.
but all in all, this segment is abundant of well researched, wonderfully structured (to the minutest details) and carefully selected opinion of some of the best experts we could have in this area.

SEGMENT 4: Poetry---
Being a big fan of poetry, i was in total awe of this section albeit reading the works of such great poets did make me feel a little shallow for my clumsy attempts.But they did show me how much i had to improve.
Most of all i liked Ezekiel's work...liked would perhaps be an understatement..i loved it to bits.
This book has compiled some of the finest pieces of poetry.It is an orchestra of beautiful minds.It is imaginative writing and reflective musings at their best.
It is an exemplery collection of beautifully crafted patterns from simple words woven together.
In one word---AWESOMENESS!!!

my favorites would have to include--
Nissim Ezekiel's
"poet, lover, birdwatcher",
"enterprise"
"in the garden"

'In this the poet finds his moral proved,
who never spoke until his spirit moved'
Simple words which go straight for the heart and make themselves at home there---the magic of Nissim.

There were others which i loved reading too like;
'Cinesmorning' By Dom Moraes
'Love' By Adil Jussawala
Santan Rodrigues's 'City Streets'
'Contacts' By Kamala Das

SEGMENT 5: Fiction
'The Best Of Quest' has short stories which take you into the depths of satire, cynicism, tragedy, loss, irony, poverty, life, death and back.
yes you guessed it right---not something you would like to read with a heavy head.
These are carefully picked stories--sieved through a critics net and separated from the mediocre chaff with utmost care.
Rustic stories which hit your soul like a hammer and make you think about it atleast once more after you have read it---definitely not the 'read and forget' types.
One more feature that i noticed these stories share in common is the way they keep churning up leaving no trace of where or how the end is going to be...so that by the time you reach the end, you just stare at the last line frozen.If thats not enough, just when you are about to conjure up a pattern from stories read and expect the one you are reading to take a familiar course, it again hits you by being surprisingly simple and unexpected.

The segments opens with the story titled 'the departure' which is one of my favs.
The thought processes which haunt the protagonist are the ones that have often crossed my mind and im sure everyone reading it will have their lips curled into a smile on noticing how much they can relate to it--be it their professional life or personality.
What takes you by surprise though is the ending---which ofcourse im not going to revel.
ohh and have to mention that its one of those stories wherein you reach the last line and say "ahh..i knewwwww this would end like this" when the truth is all along the way, you were too busy engrossed in reading how the story progressed---cause somewhere it felt like 'you'.'

'The moon had to be mended' is a story which left me feeling creepy all along.I reckon it is the satire and the dark side that it should be appreciated for.but frankly, so powerful was its impact that i found it a tad bit revolting to assess.Something you wouldnt want to read again---only for its gory details, which again is an achievement for the writer.

There were others that i liked--which prodded on different emotions in a way slightly different than routine---"Aunt Matilda is 90 years old", "Tangents", "Gherao"...though i must mention here, that a particular story titled 'kalyani' left me a little confused with the end.But nevertheless, this segment was quite an experience.. a form of fiction one rarely gets to see nowadays.

The last two segments (6 and 7) include endnotes and postscripts.

About the editors:
Laeeq Futehally is a writer and garden designer who has worked as the Literary Editor of Quest for over twenty years.
Achal Prabhala is a writer and researcher in Bangalore.
Arshia Sattar teaches at various institutions across India and works with classical indian literatures.

'The Best Of Quest' is indeed a literary gem...a precious gift from an era bygone to this modern day era which can only bow its head in respect and seek inspiration from those great minds who have clearly made a difference, not just to Indian literature but also to the society in which we live.
A book that would be loved and valued by all age groups.
A book that the youth of today definitely needs to spend time with.

Rating: 4 out of 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

two extra hours...

2011-11-24T17:36:00.019+11:00

Two extra hours of much needed time;
to help at home, to bond with kin,
to smile, to hug, to share a laugh,
to apologise for the ass ive been...

to catch up with that angry friend,
to go ahead and speak my part,
to drop in and say hello,
to prove the 'tinman' has a heart...

Two extra hours of much needed time;
to read, to dance, to sing, to write,
to hang on to these little joys,
to fasten my grip and hold on tight...

to help that old man cross the road,
to invite him in for a cup of tea,
to read street kids a fairytale,
to show them a world they'd love to see...

Two extra hours of much needed time;
to say 'i love you' to my dad,
to hug my mom and speak my heart,
to open up like i never had...

to thank the almighty for his grace;
to seek his care and blessings divine,
to pray to him to show the way,
to hope he makes it all go fine...

to pause and play the times gone by,
to introspect and talk to life,
to forgive, forget and make ammends,
to try and resolve every strife...

Two extra hours of much needed time;
though much trouble it might not me save,
but help me carry it would for sure,
a lot less regrets to my grave...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`
If you are an indivine user and you like what you read, you can vote for me here

Writer's note: This started off as a topic for a indiblogger Surf Excel Matic #GetSmart Contest.
but somewhere along the way, as i scribbled along---i dont know when and how, it turned out to be something a lot more than just that.

I wont say much---but there are delicate times when life goes off balance and we know that its only with constant attention and persistent behaviour that it can fall back in place.
Its times like these that we realise our helplessness and wish we had a little extra time to try and fix things from falling apart, within and around us.

As for me, i guess im just thankful that this topic gave way to a lot of pent up feelings---writing this has been quite an emotional journey.

cryptic thoughts #36

2011-11-21T17:41:00.003+11:00

There is a song for every mind frame...so the next time you feel excessively boastful or (conversely) extremely depressed about something, switch on some music and stay balanced---cos there is nothing unique happening to anybody, someone somewhere has perhaps been at that exact same point before.

Its not you, its just life!

untitled

2011-11-14T15:03:00.010+11:00

a silent sombre symphony...
a piece of shattered dream...
a wish gone unfulfilled...
a whole life to redeem...

a visiting-vanishing hope...
a tactfully repressed story...
a cherished memory so dear...
a past of wounded glory...

a crumbling sand castle...
a melting drop of snow...
a directionless wind...
a colourless rainbow...

an old unfinished conversation...
a listless solemn thought...
a confused speck of truth...
an invincible dirty blot...

a happy impromptu journey...
a relentless haunting pause...
an unstirred-undying passion...
an unknown abandoned cause...

these fragments of my soul...
these splinters in my heart...
pierce me through and through,
tearing me apart...

silent conversations...

2011-11-10T14:44:00.012+11:00

They were lying on their back, beside each other underneath the cool night sky.

"you see the moon?" he asked, a little distracted, "its so in love with the sky---thats the reason all the stars there fall weak in its glory---because its love for the sky is so indescribable, immeasurable, infinite"

"hmmm..." she whispered as if in deep thought.

"i think its the other way around" she finally said, after a pregnant pause

He had been waiting for this.
Contradict him she always did.

"i think its the sky who loves the moon more" she continued."Dont you see how it gets swept away in gloomy darkness on a moonless night?"

He smiled...
She blushed...

They were lying on their back, beside each other underneath the cool night sky.

speaking of love...
speaking of the moon and the sky...
understanding the unspoken!!!

DOVE your hair and it will LOVE you back...

2011-11-06T00:07:00.038+11:00

Rapunzel was not a working woman.Nor was she a exam going student.
She did not have to fight the stress of everyday life.She was safe from the wrath and fury of the big bad world (full of beckoning hair stylists) and also oblivious to all the temptations (like rebonding, straightening, perming et al) there.
Life was so much easier---all she had to do was sit in that four walled tower in that pollution free forest zone and deal with a witch who visited her once in a while to check if everything was okay.
Like how much could she have on her mind except maybe thoughts of some ~~dork~~ prince on a white horse who was bound to get mesmerised by her soulful melody and climb up a tower to rescue her?
No ambitions..no passion..no competition----no reason of stress/worry to pull her hair apart (atleast till the prince got there)

So its not such a big deal if she could manage those lovely long tresses.
Place her in a modern day setting and we shall see...hah!!!

When people around me would flaunt their lovely tresses, i would often feel a pang of guilt along with a surge of nostalgia of my days as a carefree teenager.
I would cringe when relatives would ask my mom what i did to my hair to bring it to this situation and my mom would reminisce about old times amidst angry stares at me, explaining how medical school ate up all my time and energy (the 'modified rapunzel' story worked with her too---err...though she did not take it very well)

Come home and i would have to hear sermons on how i wouldn't listen to what anyone has to say and if i continued being reckless, it wouldn't be long that i would have to count the hair on my head...yada yada yada.
Amidst sleepy yawns and cheeky grins, i would listen to her ramble.
But the truth was that, i was guilty...guilty as charged...for having neglected my hair and taking it for granted.

However, Laziness prevailed and i would never make the time.I always opted the easy way out.

The first time i felt my hair was turning frizzy---i went ahead and got it straightened.
Despite being handed over a number of hair products for maintainence, the live-for-the-day philosphy persisted and i tucked them away in my closet.

End result, my hair stayed ~~flat~~ smooth and silky albeit for a few months after which, the chemicals slowly started taking their toll thus rendering them equally fragile and prone to fall.
Amidst angry rebukes from all at home, i swore that i would never get my hair straightened again.

The next time i went to the parlour, i made it a point to sigh and complain to the hair stylist there, about my misery.
I sulked a good 30 minutes on how i had never expected that to happen since hairfall had never been a problem with me...until the cretin looked at me calmly and suggested that i try 'rebonding'.

Now dont blame me, i was naive and vulnerable.She should have been more careful.
Instead, she continued to take full advantage of the situation and inflicted three hours of even more terrible torture to my tresses (which by now had acquired a grass like quality..sniff)
That was it!!! this was my story 3 years back.

After that series of torturous and violent afflictions, my self respecting hair did what any self respecting identity in an abusive relationship would do---it gave up on me!

Initially i thought it was just a lover's tantrum that my hair was throwing, which would wear out soon enough and that it would return to its lively self again.
But as time went by, i realised that it was much more than that---my hair had started behaving more and more stubborn by the day.

It started revolting in split ends.
Then it begun showing resistant signs of extremely temperamental frizzy behaviour.
Dryness and roughness became a daily routine.
The more rough it would get, the more tough i would behave with it---trying to tame it down with stronger shampoos and gels.

and one day, it dawned on me that it was no use beating a dead horse---no amount of ironing and hair styling products would restore my relationship back to what it had been.
The zing was lost.the love was dead. and all i could do was save what was left of us...sigh!

Now where could i have gone wrong?
Well, after a lot of realisation i figured out that i loved my hair but never expressed it the right way---mistake 1.
I tried changing it into something it wasnt (that is where the straightening, perming, hair styling products came in)---mistake 2
I knew all the things that were required to be done (To start with, i would oil massage it, brush it several times a day and avoid all harmful chemicals).
But as time went by, i had started taking it for granted and wished for easier alternatives (which unfortunately did not exist then)---mistake 3.

and like all unrequited love stories, my hair eventually fell out of love with me.....

I pined for its original quality three long years..I had now started brushing and oiling my hair as and when i got the chance (which was still not enough though, due to time restraints)...I tried to make up for the neglect i had shown towards it in the past.
but the damage was done---it was not to be convinced.
The more i stressed, the more hair fall i had---its a vicious cycle they told me.

After hours of sleepless nights gazing at the ceiling and wondering how things would have been if different, like every love lorn lover, i made peace with the fact that things would never ever be the same again.

...and just as i was struggling to ignore all the nasty remarks from family and friends (who like we all know, somehow always take great pleasure in digging up stories of past fame and glory and get critical about how you were lazy and foolish enough to have neglected what was bestowed upon you), DOVE launched the new oil care range...TADAAAAA!!!

Now a shattered lover doesn't have much choice but to pick on the last straw that is offered to her.
So hoping against hope and gathering whatever little faith i had left in me, i decided to give it a shot.
Besides, the temptation was looming high...what better option that an oil care range incorporated in shower products---a shampoo, conditioner, hair mask and serum.
In this busy race of life, this was just what i needed---an easy quick fix it solution---now only to check if it worked and i'd be sorted.

And so i braced myself, pushed aside all the strong shampoos and styling products that i was using and try it, i did!

Okay, now before reading any further, please knock on wood---im superstitious like that.ahem!

and hold your breath ladies and gentlemen (*drumrolls in the background*), it gives me great pleasure to annouce before you that after around three weeks of regular use, things have started changing already...gradually..slowly but steadily. *blushes*
I see chances of a reconciliation.
I see the lost shine returning..My hair has almost stopped falling out on me.
i see my soft locks bounce now and then and toss themselves with joy.

The stubborness and frizziness my hair used to exhibit as retalliation, has slowly started dwindling and i see its original texture and softness returning.
Its not just me.My friends have started noticing it too.
Angry looks from mom have decreased a great deal and relatives have started considering medicine as a career option, once again for their daughters.

Well, ive not exactly won a 'miss beautiful hair' title or a sunsilk ad campaigne as yet, but life is full of WOW moments like these---which i think, is quite a good start! ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So all you modern day rapunzel's, this one is for you.

Good people here of every sort,
read on if you can dare...
this isn't a story of love or life,
albeit a lesson of self care...

i grew up a fine young lass,
with tresses thick and strong...
but the last few lazy careless years,
left me wondering what went wrong...

my hair grew lifeless, thin and dry,
it lost its natural bounce...
i blamed it on the stress galore,
and emotional up's and down's...

i fretted and i worried more,
as i reminsced about my past...
the oil care and the head massage,
now no longer did they last...

life was at its busiest best,
that left me no time to care...
shampoos i changed now and then,
stripped the moisture from my hair...

took notice all my peers and pals,
and whispered about my crime...
i wished my hair would normalise,
i just could not find the time...

and then as if by a magic stroke,
'Dove' came up with this 'oil care range'...
it seemed a blessing in disguise,
i knew it was time to change...

so change i did to the shampoo first,
then the serum and conditioner care...
i tried it for a whole two weeks,
and saw the love back in the air...

my hair feels pampered and cared for now,
and asif its pleased with me,
is getting back to its happy self,
that i knew it was meant to be...

the fiber actives and vita oils,
much needed by my locks so weak,
are contained in the shampoo rich,
to make them feel nourished and sleek

back is the softness and the shine,
which i'd sulked as an impossible task...
thanks to the double nourishment repair,
of the conditioner and the mask...

I have begun to adore the serum too,
for it smoothens out frizzy hair...
its non greasy and smooth to feel,
yet prevents the wear and tear...

My hair feels nourished with every wash,
and it seems so quick and easy...
no greasy lotions, oils or packs
no excuse of being busy or lazy...

and to dove care range, i owe it all
these moments that spell a W-O-W...
a solution quick fix i'd always wished,
i guess my search has ended now!

Last but not the least, i share with you this wonoderful eye-opener that i have started practicing and would strongly recommend too.

Cheers...
to 'rapunzel' hair days and a 'happy' you,
not just on the outside but from the inside too! :)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been written for Dove's Love is a Two Way Street - Love your hair and it loves you back Contest.
If you are an indivine user and you like what you read, you can vote for me here

I would also take this oppurtunity to thank 'Indiblogger' for sending me the entire 'oil care' range which has led me to consider trying out more of 'Dove' products in the near future...and needless to mention, kudos to 'Dove' (in corporation with 'Indiblogger') for organising a fantabulous bloggers meet.

of space and trust or the lack of it...

2011-11-03T04:07:00.003+11:00

What do you do when your present is still holding onto the ghost of your past, long after you have let go?
when someone who claims to love you turns so possessive that he asks for an account of every single detail of your life, at the cost of it looking like an accusation?
Everyone needs some time on their own..time to reflect..time to contemplate..time to run away from everything--just for a while.
Space is something we gotta respect and let live..for it is the space & distance that kindles the spark in a relationship.
Obviously not too much, but some amount of space is needed for the survival of a lasting love.

Seeing everything with suspicion, asking details, reading between the lines as if to search for loopholes, makes one wonder about the one essential element in a relationship--trust, without which it can never exist.
In one corner of my mind, the familiar song plays yet again...

"We can't go on together
With suspicious minds
And we can't build our dreams
On suspicious minds"

and i wonder, how easy & guilt-free would it be, to break the trust that never existed in the first place!!!

SERENDIPITY---your story...my words!

2011-10-30T01:32:00.013+11:00

Im caught in a whirl pool of words, begging to be written...
but how do i write a story with neither a beginning nor end?

Reality does not allow me to make believe and fiction refuses to camouflage into something that i can relate to.
Im feeling suffocated...caught...helpless.
There are words screaming in my head, yearning to be written.
but who would be interested in a story floating in mid air?

I need a framework.
I need a support system to spin my words around.
I need a muse to get inspired by and acknowledge.

I yearn to listen to a story..a story which noone has heard before and yet manages to make my heart write it down in words, words that would make every reader wince, cringe, sigh and smile...a passion that would make the strongest heart melt and the weakest heart tough.
I need a frame which would engult the power of my words and make me struggle to live up to its expectations.
I want a challenge---to keep writing about and still crave to write more of, not to capture the readers attention..but more because ending it would mean breaking free from the connection.
and yet, i want a story which everyone would read and remember for the rest of their lives.

A tumble of unspoken desires...a cascade of unfulfilled dreams...the unfathomable itch to write a tale that has never been told---and yet a part of life that everyone has lived--you could provide me the skeleton and i promise to fill it with life.

Im caught in a whirl pool of words, begging to be written...gnawing at me every moment, asking me to find a story to do justice with.

Have you ever wished someone would write your story??
Do you think my search would end with you?

mere...tumhare...sabke liye...

2011-10-26T03:50:00.004+11:00

Here's wishing you all a very happy and dazzling diwali!!! :)

against all odds...

2011-10-22T15:44:00.008+11:00

my body trembled against yours,
skin to skin you held me close...
as our breaths sang in perfect unison,
to create a beautiful symphony of souls,
that day when we fought against all odds...
and got it even...

better friends or bitter lovers,
sans knowing we had made amends...
you clasped my shivering hand in yours,
as i melted in your trusting arms,
that day when we fought against all odds,
and got it even...

a thousand arguments left half finished,
were put to rest in pent up passion...
the air was tense-our love at ease,
as i gazed into your longing eyes,
that day when we fought against all odds,
and got it even...

a bond of commitment it had changed into,
and nothing more i could have asked...
you carved your initials in my heart,
as i fiddled with my wedding ring,
that day when we fought against all odds,
and got it even...

Reflections

2011-10-19T20:31:00.006+11:00

All around you searched in vain,
in every cranny, corner and nook,
in golden fields and sparkling creeks,
in each rivulet, stream and brook...

in thunder clouds and rainy skies,
in rainbows and stars galore,
in fairy tales and fable crowds,
in acts pleading encore...

in ballads and in soulful songs,
in a beloved's doting eyes,
in words spilled from a poets quill,
in blood thick bonds and ties...

in the morning sun at the crack of dawn,
in the moonlight shimmering bright,
in the guilt of those who knew had wronged,
in the virtue of who were right...

the worry of an unknown tomorrow,
the hunger for lasting cheer,
the search for constant jubilation,
had filled your mind with fear...

the rainbows and stars you noticed not,
were blessings from the skies above...
the silent goodbyes with tear filled eyes,
were cues to have found true love...

But all around you searched in vain,
for something that was never there...
trying to make some sense of life,
you quite lost out your share...

You'd met contentment in every sight,
but were far too busy to see,
It was never the journey that mattered, friend,
it was how you chose it to be!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writer's note---most of the above write is written metaphorically.Just thought i'd mention :)

Book Review---'Live From London' By Parinda Joshi

2011-10-19T15:25:00.009+11:00

Book Title: Live From London.

Author: Parinda Joshi.

Price: Rs 195/-

Publication: Rupa & Co

Truth be told, when i was notified of being selected to review this book, i immediately typed in an enthusiastic reply to blogadda, promising them that the review would be up in a couple of days (since its typically me to devour a piece of good fiction as soon as i get it in hand, in a matter of a few hours at a stretch and i had my hopes and interest high on this one--the reason being, it was a 'rupa & co' publication)

But alas! i find myself struggling through the last few pages, barely because its the fag end of the deadline already.
For those who are into bollywood masala reads, this book manages to capture your interest albeit only for a while.

The 205-pages 'medley of love' (or so it says on the cover page) revolves around 22 year old 'Nishi' who has been living in london with her family and who's life actually starts going topsy turvy after a crazy party which ultimately lands her up in britain's largest talent hunt show, which i found rather a lame excuse to jumpstart the story.
The story sluggishly catches pace with,
--her embarrassment faced on Britain’s Got Talent
--her internship at a record label company
--a ‘steamy’ affair with an NRI American Idol finalist
--a break-up with him (due to a reason who's validity i failed to understand as serious enough for parting ways)
--moving back to India where she gets an opportunity to host a TV show
--and last but not the least, the happily-ever-after ending which did not leave me feeling that great either.
The only reason for relief was that i had finished off with reading the book.

The protagonist seemed to me, bratty in places and comes out too strong in others.
The friends change opinions like snap--which makes you wonder if it is a planned indecisiveness or random spurts of immature behaviour coming from 22 year old's.

With the hope that the characters would raise my interest in the chapters to come, i continued reading.
But unfortunately, it made me eventually lose out on all its characters.
The feeling of empathy towards nishi was gradually dwindling.I was beginning to find the friends to be rather bitchy and temperamental, as well.
The so-called steamy love affair seemed pretty juvenile and the return to india wasn't 'unthinkable' (as was claimed) at all.
In short, too much of predictability ruins the book.

To cut the author some slack, one does feel the subtle doses of humour in the air.
Go to think of it, the storyline has it all---friends, fun, love, complications, a breakup, a struggle and not to forget a happy ending.
The cover page is attractive..and so is the back page synopsis.
What happenes though, is lots of confusion---along the way, following which the sense of emotional detachment with each of the characters, keeps dipping.

Perhaps it was me who had my expectations up too high or maybe when you are 28, life changes you pretty much into a skeptic who finds it a tad bit difficult to relate to easy career breaksthroughs, easier breakups and even more easier happy endings.
However, coming from someone (Parinda Joshi) who belongs to the Entertainment Industry in Los Angeles, is a freelance columnist and a professional Photographer, all bundled up in one, i had expected nothing less than a entertaining page turner.
Rupa and co only raised my expectations further.

But for all its worth, 'live from london' turns out to be pretty much an average read for the starry eyed 20 something's, who might as well enjoy the phase while it lasts.

Rating: 2 out of 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

turnoffs list #2---'Phone Etiquettes Please!!!'

2011-10-13T15:07:00.024+11:00

The previous post in the 'turnoffs' series here had raised a little discomfort (for lack of a better word) amongst some of my readers.
While most took it in the right spirit, there were a few who thought me to be pretty fussy and had the gall to pass cynical comments about me being judgemental et al..sigh!

I just have one thing to say---my list..my blog!! *yawn*

So presenting before you, list #2 as promised---PEP!!! (Phone Etiquettes Please!)*drumrolls and confetti in the background*

Have you ever felt the strong urge to slam the phone down on some people?
I mean, im sure everyone has encountered this irritating species who have absolutely no phone manners at all.
You dont know what i mean? well, read on...

1) Remember the time you almost went deaf post that STD/ISD call you made to that far-far-away (pun intended) relative of yours?
Needless to say, i too know some highly irritating people who actually screach on the phone in their high pitched voices making me want to hold the phone a mile away from my ear to prevent my ear drums from bursting.
Seriously, the least one can do is have some sort of mercy on the person on the other end of the call and try and realise that the 'telephone' is no longer the 'two cans with a string attached' game you played as screaming kids...sigh!

2)
Then there are those who are apparently so busy in life that the only time they can make to call people up is when they are grabbing a bite.
What follows is long pauses interspersed with the crunch of an apple, the crackle of chips and ocassional slurps of coke.You might also get to hear the 'gurgle and rinse mouth' procedure once they have finished eating (if you manage to still tolerate the one sided conversation).
The above conversationalists (if you can actually call them that) are usually said to be good listeners.
But sadly, the only reason they seem to be listening is because they have their mouths full everytime they are on phone.
and heaven forbid, if they try and actually speak something then.
I have personally ended such conversations with a "ummm i think i will speak to you after you are through with your lunch" to which i have received replies like "naaah..this is the best time we can talk." Needless to say, what followed was a distasteful conversation in which i continued with 'ahaan' and 'hmmm' while the person at the other end slurped and burped away (Neither of us has a clue as to what we spoke that day).
Blasphemy, i tellya! :-|

3)
One serious advice i would like to render to everyone around is please and i mean PLEASE do not take your cell phones with you to the loo just because you dont want to break the conversation in between, thinking it is impolite to do so.
NO! it is NOT impolite.What is impolite is you strutting to the restroom with your phone to the ear thus leaving the person at the other end with no choice but to hear a wide range of bathroom activities (worse still, if its a public restroom) while you go yapping away in oblivion.
In case you have forgotten, nobody in this whole wide world wants to hear you pee and then have the idea confirmed by the loud sound of the flush.
and yes, the person on the phone does not need sensitive ears to hear all that.The normal set we humans are gifted with, will do.
So please, the next time you want to answer natures call, hang up!! no matter how important the conversation is, you can always call back in 5 minutes.

4) ok i have been at my wits ends with this one.
There used to be this friend of mine who would speak to me while on his way back home.Initially i would think he was the busiest man on the planet and cut him some slack.But as time passed by, i realised i was been given pretty much what is called the 'RJ on the drive home' priority.
Still giving him the benefit of doubt, i kept mum..only to find him yelling at me one day because i couldnt hear his voice clearly due to network coverage and asked him to repeat what he said (this was because of the use of hands-free during the drive).
Now that i think back on it, imagine the cheek!!!
Enough of digressing, lets come to the point.
Some idiots have this irritating knack of making you feel you need to visit the ENT, when they can easily solve the issue by either adjusting the distance of the mike/receiver from their big mouth or adjusting the small setting called volume or plain switching off the music system during a call. *rolling eyes*
If that still doesnt solve the problem (which nine out of ten times they refuse to acknowledge as their fault), they can hang up and call back later because common courtesy says that it is in no way acceptable in even your wildest moronic world that you blame the person on the other side, especially when you have made the call.
Nobody loves to play deaf or make you repeat your perals of wisdom.
If you cant have enough patience to bear up with a bad network without making the friend you've called feel responsible for it, then you should either work on your patience level, your conversation skills or self entertainment (listen to the radio instead, that way you would still yell at the RJ when the signal breaks..but who cares?! It would be just you losing your mind.)
So all those who call up their friends/family/girlfriend/spouse as a stress buster and then proceed to ruin the day for everyone by venting out their frustration on the surprised and innocent victim, please remember, you are not doing anyone a favour by working long hours and getting ass kicked by your boss or skewing up your workload..and if you think its all about you, then you deserve to be made to crawl in some dingy hole with no network coverage and never get out of there. :-|

5) 'call waiting' is an option which is to be made use of when you know you are going to revert back within 2-3 mins max and not 2-3 hours.
Having hereby made my point, i will now proceed further.

6) When the conversation comes to the point of more than five or six "so...what else?" and "aur batao" followed by "nothing..you say" every single time, please know that it is time to hang up.
No celestial power would help you bring up another topic to rekindle the spice in the conversation.
Its gone...finished...dead...over.
and trying to flog a dead horse would make both you and the dead animal look stupid. (you get the point, dont you?)
so end the conversation politely.there is always the next one--you dont need to stress out your brain to think of everything under the sun, moon and sky only to eventually freak out the person at the other end.

7) Telling someone you'd call and then conveniently forgetting all about it is also a major turn off.If you cant/dont want to keep a commitment, dont make one...its simple!

Also please know that when someone says 'dont call me..il'l call you' there is a 80% chance of not getting back in touch.So please dont huff and puff about it or bad mouth the person---because a promise without a time frame is not a promise at all.

Both the above behaviour's are equally putting off!

8) Last but not the least, please do not talk in groups.
I have been in situations wherein i have been telephonically mobbed by the whole family, with the call on speaker and needless to say, they havent heard from me in a long time since then. I mean just imagine, all you want is a silent peaceful conversation and the next thing you know is the entire family is asking you questions and passing on messages to some distant relative.
Seriously, you cant be that cheap.Make individual phone calls.Give the caller some time to breathe. Its not a rapid fire round and nobody is going anywhere.
Besides half the time, you dont even know who is cracking a joke on you.Somewhere in the distance you hear a cackle and keep wondering what it was for.Did you say something wrong? Did you make a fool of yourself? Is someone in the extended family commenting on your voice? Did you just sound like a confused idiot?
These group conversations surface up a lot of insecurities, i tellya.
So conversations on speaker are clearly a NO!!!

Hmmm..i guess that should be about all.
So coming to you, what is it that ticks you off most during a phone conversations?
Do feel free to contribute your 'dial M for murder' stories/experiences (the ones in which you wished you could actually kill someone over the phone for succumbing you to sheer torture).
I would love to read you and a good laugh is always welcome around here---anyday anytime, eh?

So until we meet again with turnoffs list #3...

cheers!
and keep calling!! ;)

cryptic thoughts #35

2011-10-11T20:57:00.003+11:00

Sometimes all we want at the end of the rainbow is another rainbow to walk on.
The pot of gold would herald the end of the journey...and most of the times, that is exactly what we arn't looking for!

an ode---TO THE MAN!!!

2011-10-10T16:35:00.013+11:00

I have been in love with you for over a decade now...not just for your voice but for the fighter spirit you had in you.
Despite having to face countless tragedies in your personal life, you emerged stronger from each one of them and kept moving on.You truly have been an inspiration.

In my lowest moments, i would find solace in your soothing voice and have often lost myself to it for hours together.

There was a phase when i thought staying away from you would be best for me---listening to you sing would make me sad.
There was this reality in your voice which tugged at my heart and refused to let go..an ache strong enough to make me reflect on my own life, throw me into the doldrums of depression.
But there was also this beautiful strength...of expression perhaps, which made me stay addicted and taught me to be a little more numb to the harshness of reality.

I have spent entire nights pondering on your words..reflecting the pain in your voice..relating to every emotion you must have felt and then promised myself that i would move on.
But morning would find me go back on my decision and i would succumb to the temptation again.

That was the magic your heart warming voice would have on me.

If you cant get someone out of your mind then perhaps they are supposed to be there, they say.
I could never give up on you and the entire CD collection of your soulful ghazals.

and today i know and promise myself, that i never will.

Your ghazals are all that i have of you and they will stay with me for ever.

Rest In Peace, Jagjit Singh!!!

always,
your ardent admirer and die hard fan.

P.S: This post is dedicated to the renowned Ghazal Maestro, Jagjit Singh who was admitted to Lilavati Hospital on 23rd sept for brain haemorrhage, where a life saving surgery was performed on him.
His condition remained critical though, and he passed away today morning (october 10th 2011) at 8 am, leaving behind a deep void in our hearts and to the world of music.
Needless to say, he will forever be remembered and missed by innumerable fans all over the world.

'IJAAZAT'---the permission to play 'confused'...

2011-10-05T17:00:00.007+11:00

I had once been told by a friend that maya's character in the movie 'Ijaazat' somewhat reminded him of me when he first watched the movie.
Not too happy with that comment/compliment, i had made him watch the movie all over again and subsequently eat his words, by finding faults in all the three protagonists...sigh!

Apart from the highly complex character that maya is, one cannot deny that it is equally fascinating.
The movie leaves you apalled at many instances..and you are confused whether she is someone who is simply crazy or too much of an idealist.
One moment you feel that she is commitment phobic and the other you find her to be a deeply passionate person who lives on love and love alone.
Sometimes you find her free spirited while there are some instances wherein the vulnerability of the character speaks volumes of her pain..her vulnerability to emotions..her inability to explain herself and her constant search of something that perhaps doesn't even exist.
Ofcourse there are some scenes which leave you seething with rage, like some highly dramatised emotional dialogues which she quips to an already-married and pretty much spineless mahender.
Mahender---someone who did not have the guts to stand up for his love infront of his grandfather...
the same someone who then metamorphosised into someone who could not reciprocate his wife's love because he was stuck up over his ex (the same girl he did not take a stand for)...
Clearly, the dude was taking everyone for granted---his grandfather, his girlfriend maya, and now his wife, sudha.

And that brings me to sudha, who's decision of marrying an emotionally involved guy does not cease to amaze me.
Respect for elders, financial support and seeking stability are an entirely different thing altogether.
But if she is ready to risk her married life in exchange for all these, hoping that her love for THE husband would cheer him into matrimonial bliss making him forget all about maya, then i guess the woman is not just being manipulative but also not quite in the right state of mind.
The least she could do was wait for him to have moved on with the ex-factor, before jumping into a serious commitment.

While maya's interference in the life of a married man is unacceptable, so is mahender's infidile nature which he clevely disguises with the garb of guilt (in the first part of the movie) and self-sacrifice (only to his imagination...hah!) and needless to mention, sudha's attempt to win the heart of an already emotionally bethroated man, without thinking about the consequences.
Nasruddin shah's acting is impeccable while rekha has played her character with ease and obvious talent.
However, Anuradha Patel (playing 'maya') is the one who steals the show with her charismatic and totally suited-for-the-role performance.

Adorned with the amazing music composition by R D Burman, Ijaazat remains one of gulzar's best creations---an intriguing drama of three complex characters, the flawed lives of whom make it so close to reality!!!

P.S: ummm...come to think of it, Shashi Kapoor did not quite fit in---no pre marital affair, no extra marital relationship, no dead girlfriend, no pestering grandfather, no guilt ridden past, no compromised marriage...nothing???
NO FAIR!!! :-|

a fragmented reality

2011-10-04T16:22:00.003+11:00

A lot of stories were brought to a halt that day...half finished.

that coffee that never happened...
the hands we never held...
that lunch that remained just a plan...
that first meeting of two interdependent souls that got posponed indefinitely...
that long awaited face to face conversation which suddenly changed course....
the hope of breathing the same familiar air that eventually brought about nothing but a solitary claustrophobia...
the resting of my head onto your shoulder which lasted only until the dream ended...
the gazing together at the setting sun that heralded the end of a relationship before it could even see the real light of day...
the half-apologetic-half-bitter promise to meet--very soon...knowing deep in our hearts that it was just another contorted truth...

A lot of stories were brought to a halt that day...half finished.

and even today, i sometimes still wonder-could things have gone any different?

'ADRIFT A Junket Junkie In Europe'---Book Review

2011-09-24T22:32:00.016+10:00

Title: ADRIFT-A Junket Junkie In Europe

Author: Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu
To know more about the author, you can visit her website---www.cuttingloose.in

Publisher: Leadstart Publishing Pvt Ltd

Price: Rs 150/-

Genra: Non Fiction
When i first heard that Puneetinder Sidhu's ADRIFT was up for grabs, i was curious to give it a try.
Being someone who loves travelling, i was looking forward to reading this book, since some time now.
Besides, reviewing a travel book was a sphere i hadn't quite treaded upon before and the fact that this one was by one of 'Hindustan Times' former food and travel columnist, only added to my curiosity.

Arm chair travel across the whole of europe sounded like fun.But there was this risk of getting bored, which i must mention, was instantly nullified on getting the book in my hands.

The first striking feature about the book is its attractive cover page.
The second is its size, though on reaching the end, you cant help wishing for more.
This 100 page summary of an entire continent is written with such zeal and high spirit, that the enthusiasm and passion for travel is almost infectious.
Also the organised nature of the book is reflected at the very start itsself, by a 'sneak peek' index which carries in it glimpses of what lies ahead (in the pages to come, ofcourse).

The opening chapter has the chandigarh based author Puneeta Kaur SIdhu, telling us about her impromptu summer vacation to europe (thanks to the strategically located punjabi diaspora and good contacts).
Some of the 'nine cardinal rule's that she decides in flight might feel a little too strict and make the reader wonder if the trip would have ended up being more adventurous, had she gone a little easy on them.
But then again, its her trip...her rules.
Who are we to complain, eh?

During her stay in germany, she learns a few words that add to our limited german vocabulary---prost, bitte and not to forget schizer (which made me laugh as i promised myself i would put to good use someday)
She gets invited to an hitherto unheard of 'goa' party---something which made me want to breeze through all the lines in between until i got to that part (out of sheer curiosity).The description of this party makes one imagine what it must be like to witnness such a gala event---indophiles recreating an 'india' in the german country side.
She also speaks about 'mitfarhzentrale' a car pooling service encouraged by the state to conserve energy.

While in swedon and denmark, she speaks about her visit to Hylinge, a quaint village--a short drive from Helsingborg, where she gets a chance to eat one of the most delectable part of the swedish dining cuisine---reindeer meat and then, balting herring.
"Even durian would come out smelling of roses in comparisn" she says---a line which made me flinch as i remembered how i had rushed off for fresh air despite being metres away from the tropical fruit at a local supermarket during my trip to malaysia.
Besides, i have to mention about the ultra baffling moment in the book where i was enlightened that 'rudolph' the red nosed reindeer of the much known carol singing fame was actually a 'SHE'.
Thanks puneeta, for clearing my concepts...phew!

The visit to torekov (a fishing haven) and the stay at 'adrid' make you feel a strange pull towards this place---which made me reconsider sweden as a holiday destination.

While Puneetinder juggles between the work of Vincent Van Gogh and the life of Anne Frank, she also gets an oppurtunity to see a real windmill and windowshop in a red light district.
Her trip to amsterdam is piled with a lot of alarming and exciting anecdotes which work their way to arouse the interest of the reader and make it more interesting than just any normal travelogue.
So is her stay in Austria.

Visiting fairytale castles in alpine havens, her hungarian rhapsody is filled with adventure as she explores her way to Budapest and Lake Balaton.

The chapters on France and Britain brought along with them, a deja vu kinda feeling---Hampsted Heath, Notting Hill Carnival, Billy Conelly and not to forget the wine consumption and silly 'high' that kicked in thereafter, at paris---swept me in nostalgia of a trip not such a long while ago, and made me put down the finished book, lost in memories of my own.

Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu has succeeded in captivating the readers interest until the last page.
The easy flow of language and wit makes it an interesting read.But if you think the 100 pages booklet is something you can read in half an hour, you'd be mistaken.This is one read you would want to read at leisure and soak in the informative yet lively banter, all through the way.

Her travel stories leave you smiling in places, while some parts compel a strong urge to make mental notes in preparation for your next holiday.
Pictures speak a thousand words, they say---the photographs in the book were an additional highlight.
I also liked her style of combining humour, anecdotes and travel---which keeps the attention of the reader from wavering, a trait most travelogues otherwise possess.

As for complaints, i dont have any.
Reading a journey experience is like travelling with the writer and everyone has a unique style of travelling.
Judging or comparing styles is like being that unsatisfied pesky guest who tags along with you every leg of your journey sans personal expenses and still keeps gloating about how much fun he had during a previous one, instead of enjoying the moment.
As for me, i had tagged along an entire europe trip with Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu, only to have enjoyed her fun-filled-energy-packed experience to the tee.

Having said that, i would suggest you to pick up this book, the next time you visit your bookstore and give it a read.
For all travel enthusiasts, i can guarantee you wont be disappointed.

Rating--3 out of 5 (in the category of travel and adventure)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

55 fiction---'extremes'

2011-09-21T15:37:00.010+10:00

The beggar woman picks up a half-rotten tomato from a thrash can--overflowing with kitchen waste, from the city's top rated restaurant.

As she desperately searches for more, her sunken eyes reflect the hope of feeding her starving family.

Inside the coffee shop, a bunch of social butterflies are moping over the cancelled 'La Tomatina' festival.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writer's note: For all its worth, i would love to know your views on the 'la tomatina' festival.
so please go ahead and shoot me ~~with~~ a comment. :)

life---an entirely different 'cinderella' story...

2011-09-20T14:03:00.033+10:00

Pumpkins can never, not if the world depended on it, change into carriages...leave alone golden ones.
They are just big, plump vegetables that our moms would bargain with the vegetable vendor for, only to cook into the most disgusting concoctions which we were made to eat despite the ugly faces we made.
They would never serve any other purpose besides increasing our bowel movements and providing for important antioxidants and vitamin A.
but when we were told about the wave of the magic wand and the pumpkin turned coach, we BELIEVED!!!

ahhh and the mice?? the mice would NEVER turn into horses either, not even if they cross matched with another species.
It is just against the law of nature, you see.But then again, biology was a subject we leant only in college.
'Magic' formed our childhood basis..and we BELIEVED!!!

and ofcourse, life also taught us that the rat who turned into a coachman and lizards that were changed into footmen, was a whole lot of bull crap too.
Literally speaking, rats are just rodents which cause nothing but the plague and lizards, well...they are just ugly creatures which creep up our bedroom walls sticking out their dirty tongue at us---the suckers who were told the 'cinderella' story and more importantly, who BELIEVED!!!
Metaphorically speaking, life taught us that the 'rats' and 'lizards' we met along the way would never change..no amount of magic could/can/will change them into something better---they stay just the same, forever 'rats' and forever 'lizards'.

Also, we learnt that there were no glass slippers being gifted to us---we would have to adjust to manolo's and jimmy choo's (which would burn a hole in our own pocket) and yes, since they come in all sizes, we could not really rely on them for that 'exclusively ours' fairytale end, either..sigh!

Yea, i agree its a tad bit diappointing to know that the 'prince' ~~or perhaps the 'frog' you thought to be one~~, will never come running in an attempt to catch up with you, if you leave the ball like that.(That happens only in yashraj movies and dharma productions, nowadays.)
Rather, he might in all probability, get into an apparently (to your imagination only) compromised relationship with a beautiful and not-as-fussy unemotional girl he had met at the ball (before he saw you enter and was mesmerised by the light reflected by your glass slipper) convincing himself that 'time heals everything' and eventually you will see him happily grinning away in thousands of wedding pics posted all over his facebook wall.

But time would heal that too..and soon enough one day, one extremely ugly picture (clicked and tagged by one of his jealous colleagues, when he apparently wasn't looking) is all that will take you to realise what a balding, pot bellied, spineless reptile he had always been.
So dont make a fuss. Life's like that.

Coming to the pumpkin turned coach, life managed to give us a harsh reality check on that too.
We learnt that we would have to manage all of it ourself--be it a ball or your workplace, there will be traffic rules we'd have to follow.
There will be signals which will make us stop in the scorching heat and wait patiently till the light turns green.
There will be flat tyres and petrol hikes, and needless to mention public transport strikes too, which will make us wish time and again for the pumpkin ride, we'd read about, as kids.

Shopping for designer labels make us feel better but only for a while.
Unlike the famous glass slipper, these wear out, go out of style and finally, we outgrow them.

and eventually we realised that there were no fairy god mothers, atleast not one's without a selfish interest of their own---we had to work towards making our dreams come true, and ofcourse leave some to luck and good faith.

Life is not just about ONE evening ball.So its not worth sulking if we cant make it to one such party.

Instead, we need to get out of the cinders, hang out with our friends and have a ball of a time as often as we can.
Its just one life and it does NOT allow us the luxury of being stuck on to one disappointment for too long.
Eat loads of icecreams and get over it, i say.
Keep low on the tantrums.
Break some rules, if you feel like it.
Do what makes you happy.
Sing, dance and please DO NOT depend on that shimmering gown and diamond studded crown to have a good time.

As for the prince, if someone needs to see us all decked up like that, to fall in love with us..then we might as well give it a second thought.
We are going to grow old and fat anyway--age is just a number baby, a number which can change appearances but not the heart.
so if someone manages to fall for us in just a few hours of silent ballroom dancing---then we have something to worry about, dont we?
Compatibility is not judged on the basis of a few hours nor on good looks or financial status.
So ideally, we ought to go out there in our rags, our dusty slippers...our simple yet clean pair of jeans and a tee thrown on top---sans makeup and jewellery and see who we can relate to in mental wavelength, kind spirit and honest attitude, instead of letting a rich dude (who has the audacity to call for a beauty paegent to select a partner for life) pick us up like a piece of chinaware in an antique showroom.

All said and done, we got to be brave..take no shit from people (be it our seniors at work, relatives, boss, society) leave the 'cinders' that have us bound in shackles and go follow your heart.
Break free from the 'cinder' life and while you are at it, file a law suit and those bloody torturers who overload you with that inhuman amount of work. (to all you behind that computer screen, working your ass away, this one's for you)

Its a different thing that lady luck was always around in those 'once upon a time' days and i guess, a little bit of magic goes a long way to help an uneducated woman.Sadly only in fairytales...
but life is not a cinderella story, isn't it?

ok, now coming to the things i (and perhaps, even you) should learn from the story---
1) patience and good temper---cos she waited all those trying years...and did not burn herself or her evil step mother in the cinders instead.

2) forgiveness---for she allowed her cruel step sisters to stay on, instead of banishing them from the kingdom or atleast asking them to pay a small price for their cruelty (like gifting her the whole new collection of jimmy choo or prada, as her wedding gift).
I mean, cmonn i still think she let them go away easy.
but sigh! forgiveness is a virtue they say..

3) and last but not the least, hope---which she did not give up on, even after the party was over.
I mean, i dread to think what would have happened had she to throw away the other slipper in a fit of anger or frustration.that imbecile prince (who needed that as evidence to recognise his 'love') wouldnt have believed her anyway.

Yea yea i agree that cinderella was not quite the skeptic that i have turned out to be...blame it on her lack of exposure to the big bad outside world (cmon, you cant blame the girl--she was locked in the cinders for like ever!) or dearth of comman sense (How much can those twittering birds and doe eyed animals in the woods, teach you anyway?)

So yes, she did have a 'happily ever after' fairytale ending.

As for us, somewhere between fiction and reality, lies the truth---the truth we all know, yet refuse to see.

but we are happy for the moment...yes, we are 'cool' like that! ;)

confessions of a 'high maintainence' woman...

2011-09-18T16:06:00.019+10:00

I dont need a plush apartment,
in manhatten or times square...
but i need you to be beside me,
to remind me that you care...
to tell me you think im beautiful,
even when im old and fat...
and mean every word that's said,
yes, im 'high maintainence' like that.

Im not crazy about diamonds,
no gifts you'd need to buy,
but i ask of trust and honesty,
and a promise that you'd never lie...
no gucci, versace or armani,
nor poodle or persian cat...
only love that lasts forever,
yes, im 'high maintainence' like that...

I ask not a porsche or ferrari,
nor demand a foreign twirl,
but i might sulk and pout and brood all day,
if you flirt with another girl...
I may not always tell you,
the reason im feeling ignored,
or i may throw a childish tantrum,
assuming you are bored...
ask not any questions then,
just tell me you love me so,
hold me close and calm me down,
please know im feeling low...
there would be days like these i guarantee,
when you'd stare and wonder at,
this cranky woman you thought you knew,
yes, im 'high maintainence' like that.

for i dont need your money and riches,
to keep me feeling proud...
I just need to be beside you,
in life's ever so maddening crowd...
for these memories are timeless,
and love a priceless affair,
so lets keep it worth remembering,
and precious for both to share...
somedays, i'd be all understanding,
at times, i'd play the 'brat'...
so please handle me with utmost care,
yes, im 'high maintainence' like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writer's Note: This poem is purely triggered off by a conversation i had with a friend, today morning.
I on the other hand, need to have my gucci, prada, burberry, cadillac and ofcourse needless to mention---all the attention, trust, patience and time in the world.
So please DO NOT fall in love with me! ;-)

55 fiction---"the last goodbye"

2011-09-17T15:13:00.005+10:00

The door flung open to his startled face.
He had not expected her to be up this early.

But today, she had decided to put an end to the whole thing.
.
.....
.........
.............
.................
....................
........................
"kal se doodh nahi chahiye!" she exclaimed coldly at the crestfallen milkman, who knew his diluted milk was no match to her untarnished anger.

stereotyping...tsk tsk!!!

2011-09-15T14:35:00.023+10:00

I was just idling away, engaging in pointless banter, when a friend directed me to this link here.
Now, my first reaction was triggered off by the title of the post 'An open letter to a delhi boy'.So the feminist in me was ecstatic---here was another of those 'dear john letter' kind of post--some form of brainless entertainment to my otherwise mundane and boring day, or so i thought.

It was only moments later, that i realised that this girl here was missing the entire point---the 'delhi boy' had mysteriously gone missing from the post and some mindless-girl insecurities seemd to be creeping up instead, bit by bit.

As i continued reading the post, the excitement turned into a strange kinda repulsion.
Here was this chennai-born-delhi-based (or whatever..dont sue me if im wrong, i couldnt care less about her exact lineage) girl thrashing away and generalising every single delhi guy under the sun, just because somewhere down the line, apparently one (or few) of them managed to create that impression.
And wait, it didnt end just there...in came the families, the religious festivals, the physical attributes, the music idols and whatever little of the punjabi clan that was left out.
Hmmm...clearly this girl had a problem...and it seemed like a pretty serious one to me!!

What was weirder was the reactions this post triggered off--while some comments were plain deleted, some others treaded on the same line of foul language and insane temperament.
howww typical, isnt it--our long-since-passed-over-the-ages indian mentality of 'you scratch my back and il'l stab your intestines out'.?

What particularly put me off this so called self declared 'MADrassan' was her exceptionally ~~rotten and wilted~~ flowery language.
WHile she speaks about punjabi's being highly incorrect in grammer and accent, she is not exactly a role model herself.
In fact, i would rather spend time with a person who mixes up genders in language than be with a foul mouth who apparently has mixed up values (low enough to talk disrespectfully about someone's mother/family) instead.

Shahana might have managed to make some fairly accurate points there about the bias some north indians seem to show against people in the south, but the way she has put them across is not just utterly childish but really foolish too and that makes me think twice about the intellect and maturity she claims to have, as part of her south indian lineage. (im not going to commit the stupid folly of stereotyping like THE shahana here, because i personally think that she could very well be an exception---perhaps just like the delhi 'sadak chhap' she has come across who has inspired her to write off the whole punjabi community in her black book, was.

hmmm...ok, now i need to turn the table around for a while, because frankly ive been looking at every corner of it and am clearly not impressed with not just the 'diners' but the 'table' itsself in all its entirity.

But to my surprise, this piece which should have made it to the thrash can, has made it to almost every single facebook wall, google status and website (ofcourse not exactly in the way, shahana might have assumedly wanted it to..but like a friend rightly put it---'i guess even cheap publicity is publicity enough for someone like her'
so we are happy for you, journalist girl!

but im just wondering why you changed your display name to 'broken morning' and removed off your display pic, minutes after this revolution that you managed to create?
just wondering---is it a shocking life-changing surge of modesty or an expected lack of guts...or wait a min, have you fled the country??
cmonnn, surprise us please.Take responsibility for your words and call a press conference, maybe..we live in cloud-cuckoo-land---we believe in change of hearts, you know, unlike your texas-chain-saw-massacre attitude!! ;)

What kinda surprised me a little was that this uproar created by this miss never-heard-before-journalist-turned-blogger, managed to infuriate many a north indians..and to some extent this 'miss shahana' whoever has succeeded in creating a wave of hatred in the minds of every punjabi around.

Just one question to you---why?

Why do you care about something you know is not true?

I have stayed in goa, almost all my life..and yes, i do agree when people act all smart-ass and place you in a stereotyped bracket, it hurts..it infuriates..it angers.
I have personally stopped myself from going and assaulting many a people for their biases---in much a "forgive them, lord..for they do not know what they are saying" kind of way.

I have heard delhi'ites and chennai'tes alike, those who have never even once visited this place, speak about goa being this small town that time and technology forgot.
and no amount of explaining can shake their vision of it being anything more than just the land of skimpily clad girls frolicking on beaches, cheap alcohol, cocaine trade and konkani slang.
All i'd say is 'as the bell clings, the fool thinks'.

Seriously, you people should learn from us goans.
We allow people to think what they want to..to believe what they want to...
Why? because we couldnt care less!

If some pig headed tourist (be it a northie or a southie) believes that goa is the 'las vegas' of india and wants to die boozing and doping around here, we allow him to.

Because in heart of heart, we know that the truth is that goa (like every other place/region/state) is made up of TWO diametrically opposite sides and the one you choose to believe just shows us the one you favour to live with.
The definition of good, bad and ugly changes from person to person.
What im just trying to drive home here, is that it does not depend on the region, religion or family lineage.
It depends on your mind set.
That is why we get to see journalists and other so called 'intellectual' people still stoop down and bad mouth when given a chance.
Speaking of mind set, this is not about taking sides..not at all.
In fact, later in the day, i was directed to another post by chintan gupta, a fellow blogger here, who decided to give the 'self declared' madrassan a piece of her upset mind.
and what did she do?? write an equally abusive post in an attempt to get even...sigh!

I am not surprised..no!
disgusted? yes!

I must admit i might be all game for this battle of gaali galoch (though i'd still prefer wit and sarcasm any day..but if you insist too hard, i can slash you to pieces too), had this been a personal affair.
In fact, i am not someone who can take a foul word against me, without ripping the other person to shreds, be it physically or mentally.

But in matters like these, when the family values and self respect of the whole nation is at stake, dont you think it is better to stay level headed?

Ahh, coming to level headedness..where exactly is the audience supposed to go, in these kinda debates?
the silent readers who are confused whom to side, since they have had no personal experience either ways? the staunch loyalists (ofcourse for their part of the country only) who seek oppurtunities like these to voice their spineless and equally baseless opinions? and needless to forget, the trying-hard-to-stay-level-headed ones who are provoked to leave their brains behind and go straght for the kill...blindfolded!?

Well, there is an answer to everything---the southies support the southies and the northies, follow the northies..simple, isnt it? NOT!!!

If the reader response is based on cultural divides and regional differences, then how short of a 'jehaad' are you? Think about it.

This whole 'uttar dakshin' fiasco reminds me of a famous dialogue from a movie i'd watched not such a long time back
"iss desh mein do bhaarat baste hai..." The only difference is, this time its not about reservations.

It infact, is an issue much more serious than that.

'stereotyping' is for the weak, by the weak and of the weak.
For heaven's sake, get over these petty differences.

Its high time we moved beyond the 'north' and 'south' of things...

cryptic thoughts # 34

2011-09-15T02:57:00.004+10:00

Sometimes, leaving someone alone is the best thing we can do to make them feel better.

Sometimes, no amount of concern or care can help heal a breaking heart.
Sometimes, no matter however much we try, some issues cannot be fixed.

Everyone needs some time on their own---time to recuperate, time to recover, time to introspect, to heal, to breathe...and nothing you do can speed up the proces for them.

Even the best of friendships are put to test under stressful situations...and no amount of 'wanting' to help actually helps.
Sometimes we just got to realise this and leave before we are told to leave.
We got to be around for those who matter, only when they want us to be around.

...because sometimes, only 'space' is therapy!!!

the 'truth and dare' tag...

2011-09-06T04:54:00.014+10:00

I was dared into taking up this tag, by a friend and fellow blogger.

and then i thought, after all these years of being around, perhaps i owe my readers that much...

so go ahead---what would you like to know?

Now for the tagging part *evil laugh*
(The writer can choose to answer/ignore questions depending on his/her own choice.and both sides should remember to maintain the spirit of the game.)

soooooooooo *rubbing hands with glee* i hereby tag---
---blasphemous aesthete
---SUB
---vyankatesh
---mayank
---priyadashini joyce
---scribbling girl
---pankaj verma
and last but not the least, whoever wants to take this up...

cheers! :)

cryptic thoughts #33

2011-09-04T13:41:00.005+10:00

Innocent faces sometimes prove out to be wearing the most treacherous masks!!!

Some people wear disguises to hide their pain and some to conceal their dark soul.
Either way, when the masks come off, im always left feeling a little 'less' alive.

If only these masquerade parties would come with a prior invite, instead of being an ~~unexpected~~ on-the-spot show that they normally are...
That way, atleast i would have the option of not showing up to witness the event.

my best friend's birthday

2011-09-01T01:19:00.004+10:00

GANPATI BAPPA MORYAAAA!!
MANGAL MURTI MORYAAAA!!

Here's wishing everyone a very happy ganesh chaturthi :)
May he shower his blessings on us today and always....

mushy (m)adness...

2011-08-29T17:51:00.005+10:00

Is it just me or is there someone else who finds this guy (the young artificial acting weirdo with the funny hairstyle) repulsively irritating??? :-|

I never thought i would hate a 'cadbury' ad...but this one reeeeeeaally gets on my nerves...

There is something about that guy which just wants me to go and slap him in the face..Right from the disgusting ~~love~~ lust struck look in his eyes to the way he licks the chocolate off his fingers to the dumb expression on seeing the girl's dad, everything about him is mindblowingly irritating.
and the girl, is not too far away either---she appears kinda mentally slow herself! :-|

now if the 'father' dude had given his daughter an angry blood curdling look hinting that she should come home immediately followed by a 'you are grounded' sermon, for being seen around with a racoon like that, it would have been a tad bit more fun.

Anyhoo, just to prove that we are not cupid killers like that, let me point out to you this one another 'dairy milk' ad which we find really adorable---the couple as well as the theme..

so what's your type---the 'dairy milk' or the 'silk' romance?? ;)

obsession

2011-08-24T17:11:00.008+10:00

we people are a funny lot,
when left to our own device...
we each are ruled by some little quirk,
an addiction or a vice...

some are obsessed with passion,
others with looks divine,
a lot with wealth and riches,
and some with food and wine...

there are those addicted to perfection,
to love-lorn discipline in their life,
and those clumsy in their fashion,
albeit strung out on their wife...

and ofcourse them--unrequited lovers,
who care for neither loss nor gain...
those poets and those writers,
who seem addicted to their pain...

there are narcissists and egotists,
each with an obsession alike...
sadists and masochists,
hooked on to their psyche...

but we are mere players,
and obsession, the dirty game...
blind to our own quirky whim,
why slander each other's name?

why not be obsessed with equality,
with life sans terror and deep dread?
why not be addicted to integrity
and world peace instead?

to ethics to moral character,
to honesty, truth and faith...
to change the wrong in society,
make haste!! its not too late...

we indeed are much an obsessed lot,
left each to our own device...
so lets bunch up and in unity,
make a virtue from this vice!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prompt taken from One Single Impression, the topic being 'obsession' :)

"loose ends"~~~55 fiction

2011-08-21T02:34:00.008+10:00

She looked beautiful in the bridal saree he had chosen for her.
Back at his home, he smiled at the perfect fit of the sherwani she had shopped for him.

"congratulations!! he really is a lucky man" he texted before leaving for the venue.

"wish you both a happy married life too" she messaged back.

Silence

2011-08-19T13:01:00.019+10:00

you are screaming inside but dont let it show,
you know you care but dont let them know,
its tough to find who is friend and foe,
Lets submit to life and ask no more...
speak not of harsh truths renowned,
not a sound dear, not a sound.

the stories twist and turn you'd find,
you'd blame yourself for being so blind,
there are a million traps---all, one of a kind,
tread slowly or you'd lose your mind...
these broken bonds once had you bound,
pine not for them dear, not a sound.

you thought you'd met a life long friend,
a trusting soulmate---your heart to lend,
that dreamy journey with a perfect end,
shattered to pieces around the bend...
such moments lost are seldom found,
plead not for them dear, not a sound.

silence is what the heart knows best,
of those who failed when put to test,
of fellow travellers once full of zest,
and midway promises now made to rest...
cry not for those, you'd come around,
not a sound dear, not a sound.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prompt taken from One Single Impression, the topic being 'silence' :)

love in the times of 'Samsung Galaxy Tab'

2011-08-16T11:58:00.015+10:00

This post is written as the second part of the 'samsung mobiler's contest' held by indiblogger for the month of august, the first part being posted here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He opened up the gift one last time and hoped with all his heart that she would like it..he wanted to give her the world and this was his simple way of showing her how much he loved her.

He smiled at the 'samsung galaxy tab 750' in his hands, once again..and each of its unique features swept him back to memory-land.

1) better speed---with both, HSPA and WIFI one can be connected 24/7 wherever you are...so that you can enjoy unlimited downloads, stable connections and speedy browsing.
He smiled to himself as he remembered his courtship days..how would crib and complain about her dial-up connections.E-mail and messenger had been the only economical solution for the couple considering the different time zones, they were in.
He remembered how it would take her ages to download his pics and how she would sulk about him being so far away from her..Their relationship had faced a major turning point when he had to leave for the US for better job prospects.
To add to it, a bad network and a slow internet connection made them feel much further away from each other especially at the end of a weary day, when both yearned for each others company.
and then there were those summer camps she had to attend simply meant that they would have to stay without speaking to each other for long periods until she returned.
While most long distance relationships fizzled out with time, theirs had stood strong in the test of time and distance.
"But how easy it would have been to traverse those long periods of absence, if only.." his voice trailed off as he looked at the TAB in his hand and smiled,
"technology..." he sighed.

2) Better Office---you can get your work done from wherever you are. using preloaded polaris office.
He recalled their trip to singapore for their honeymoon, when she had received an urgent call from work.She was expected to prepare a power point presentation in as short a notice as 3 days and this has set her in complete 'panic' mode.How he had cursed her project manager back then.
Not carrying a laptop along on a holiday (to avoid extra baggage) was a decision he had suggested.
They had to go PC hunting...and even them she could not finish her project on time for the presentation.He had wanted to fling her cell phone while the career oriented woman he loved had stayed up late trying to meet project deadlines.
With clipboard, she would now be able to save as many as 20 text and images and experience the same advanced cup-paste function like on a personal computer back home and complete her office work with much better speed and efficacy.
Atleast she would never have to panic on holidays again.

3) Better Multimedia---
She had wanted to watch her favorite movie..but almost all the movie halls were packed because apparently everyone in town wanted to watch it on the same day, too.
He sighed as he remembered the day--12th august, their anniversary.He had wanted to make it special---her favorite movie and then dinner at her favorite italian restaurant.
The 'Housefull' sign outside almost all the multiplexes within travelling distance meant a dejected look on her face, though she had tried hard not to show it.
"why dont we rent out the dvd and watch it on my pc, instead?" she had suggested with fake enthusiasm, just to make him feel better..though both of them knew that doing that would kill half the fun out of it.
but now, he thought, with the 'samsung galaxy tab 10.1', no movie plan could ever go waste.
They would be able to experience the magic of cinema with full high-definition playback---the dual speakers surrounding the screen which create a surround sound effect make movie watching a pleasurable experience.
He smiled at the tablet in his hand, thinking how excited she would be to see it.

4) Better Imaging
He flipped over the tablet to notice the front and rear view cameras built in.
"The front camera offers great clarity and the rear camera would allow you to capture the best photos and HD videos" he recalled the 'samsung' guy explaining.
Finally, they would be able to video chat with their parents back home, without them sulking about the clarity of the webcam.
His mom could could now watch baby ahaana growing up too...with clear pictures and live chat clarity.She would not have to wait until her next visit to meet her darling grand daughter.

5) better reading and better music
The samsung galaxy tab 10.1 has unique features like 'readers hub' and 'music hub'..While the latter offers unlimited reading experience and access to millions of books, newspapers and magazines with added features like virtual bookmarks, zoom in/out and font enlargement to make the e-reading a wonderful experience, the latter enables you to access an extensive catalogue of popular and classical songs along with artist information, crtic 'music' reviews, album art and more.
He had known right then and there, that there could be no other gift more perfect for his sweetheart.
The tranquil expression on her face whenever she listened to music was his most favorite expression in the world.
He remembered how he and his college friends used to pull her leg, calling her a 'bookworm'---some habits die hard..she had been bitten by the 'reading' bug ever since she was a kid and this one was there to stay.
Even after six long years of marriage, she always found time to read books.He would sometimes feel all jealous that he had to share her with them.
He laughed at himself for feeling so insecure---now he would have to deal with a much bigger insecurity, he grinned feeling all pleased--a humongous library at her disposal, with over a million books in a compact 10.1 tablet.
"anything for her smile!!!" he said to himself, as he hastily straightened out the wrapping paper he planned to repack the gift in.
He knew he had selected the perfect gift for his better half---besides all these features which she would enjoy, the 'samsung galaxy tab 10.1' (also known as the 'sansung galaxy tab 750') came with a amazingly thin and light body (565 gms and 8.6mm thin), a high definition 10.1 inch screen with 1280/800 WXGA display boasting excellent screen sharpness and a pixel density of 149 ppi, with better multitasking apps and quicker and more efficient web browsing, working on the latest android TM technology---all at the price of Rs 36,200..'It is indeed a good investment', he thought to himself.

She would be there any moment.
He looked around at the mess he had created in the kitchen--in the futile attempt of cooking up a perfect dinner, her birthday surprise.
The thought of her freaking out at the sight of half burnt dinner made him slightly nervous.
Four years of courtship followed by six years of married life were enough for him to realise what a perfectionist she was.
Just then the door bell rang, interrupting his chain of thoughts.

"happy birrrttthdayyyyy, sweetheart" he almost jumped at her in the hope that she wouldnt notice the small trail of smoke coming from the kitchen.

She looked at him..He was standing infront of her with the enthusiasm of a 5 year old, putting forth the messily packed gift, he had got for her.
She smiled and proceeded to open the gift as he hurridly and excitedly rattled out all the features the tablet had, and narrated all their memories associated with each one of them.
She listened intently..his enthusiasm was infectious--she couldn't help but smile at this man she had married 6 years back, this man who was still madly in love with her---the bad cook, the terrible gift wrapper, the mess magnet...and yet, the best husband in the whole world.
She loved the gift he had brought her---not just for the features he had explained, but more because it was a reminder of all those memories he had created with her..
a reminder which proved that her otherwise-forgetful husband remembered all the things that really mattered.

so what if it wasn't her birthday today??!! she hugged him tight and smiled to herself.
"this is the best birthday gift anyone could have ever given me" she shyly whispered while eating the half burnt dinner he had made for her...

and he grinned to himself thinking it was the TAB she was talking about...

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FREE

2011-08-15T12:12:00.007+10:00

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 23; the twenty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for this month is FREE.

When i first read the topic selected by blog-a-ton for the BAT-23 contest, a twisted smile crossed my face.
The word "FREE" has held a spectra of different meanings and lessons in various phases of my life.
So when it was announced that 'free' was declared the theme we were supposed to work on, my heart flipped a beat, danced a merry jig and decided to join the bandwagon (expressions has always been its favorite..and those who read me will know how it keeps searching for new opportunities to jabber away and chew the reader's head off).

So lets go back in time...
When i was a kid, i was told that the best things in life come for FREE.
This statement somehow stuck with me all through my childhood years.It was in pre kg that i met my first friend and learnt the value of friendship. My family was my world...'home' and 'school' made up for pretty much the whole universe.
Everyone doted over me--i was thrilled!
All the affection..the love..everything was freeeee!!!
So was climbing trees, swinging on slides, sliding on slides, park rides and bubble wrap---what more could a kid at that age possibly want?
I was happy..content...satisfied..and above all, convinced that "FREE" is in.
All the happiness in life did actually come for free.

This overwhelming thought however, was to stay just an ephemeral concept.
As i frolicked from my joyous childhood into my zestful youth, i realised that things were a tad bit different.
My teenage years were a learning experience.
It was in my early teens that i learned my first lesson on friendship--that friendship were actually based on give and take.
It was summer and my best friend had refused to lend me her bicycle because the class bully was offering her his stamp collection in return of the favour.
The best things in life no longer came for free---they sold out for a bunch of postage..i was disheartened!!

During my late teenage years, the definition of 'free' changed again.
I had become quite the rebel back then..fighting against the injustice of having to be answerable to parents for everything i did.
I wanted to be able to go for late night parties, movies, stay with my ear stuck to the phone, dress up in all kinds of funny clothes and wear makeup (which i now realise was so stupid and juvenile).
But back then, freedom to me meant all that.
I wished to be 'free' and though i didn't realise it back then, in pretty much the 'high on dope and rock & roll' kinda way.
Phew!! thanks mom and dad, for being so highly patient to my temper tantrums and more for still saying 'no' to my permit for craziness.
I fumed at the injustice but moved on..
"the world is not fair anyway, it does not want to see me free" i'd sulked.

and life went on...
As the years passed by, and life handed me more responsibilities to handle, i had almost stopped believing in the 'moral science' school teacher who had first imparted those pearls of wisdom to me.
Fairytales became a thing of the past.Lemony Snicket was the one raising his ugly head from time to time.
I was trying my best to get into the groove of things..to carve my niche.
But life was alright because i had realised by then that just like there were true and honest people around me, there were also those who wore masks all the time.
The meaning of 'free' was changing again.

Life had taught me that there were no free lunches here.Everything came at a price.
Trusting someone came at the price of being betrayed.
Falling in love came at the cost of having your heart snapped in two.
Harboring expectations came at the risk of having them let down.
I was totally disillusioned by now---nothing in life came free afterall, not even the hand-me-down's and this was just nature's way of subjecting me to a stronger reality check.

But wait, that was not it...a few years down the line and the meaning of 'free' changed again.
We all know how we all part from college life, with tears of separation and promises of keeping in touch.I did too.
But the truth is---how many of us actually manage to do that?
I got busy..and so did my friends.
We were no longer 'free' to meet up with each other..to keep in touch..to enjoy those long 'hostel' conversations we once shared in those good old college days.
Medical school had bound us together and even though we fretted and fumed about the syllabus and the stress, we were all just about 'free' enough to relate to each other..to empathise with one another..to conform.
But as soon as we bid our goodbye to our 'alma mater' there was something in each of us which died with time---the hope to take out time for each other. And even though we still suffer from those occasional pangs of 'nostalgia' gripping us in the gut, the rat race we are all competing in has left us with very little 'free' time to catch up over coffee.

Well, i made peace with this fact a couple of years after college.
We humans have a tendency to adjust according to situations, don't we? I resorted to keeping in touch through social networks on the world wide web.
I was aware these virtual conversations/scraps have almost zilch of the personal magic, real meet-up's and college 'gupshup' did.
But i convinced myself that the occasional 'pokes' and pleasantries were good enough and i had to make do with knowing that my friends were alive if not anything else.
I guess it worked both ways, they too have played truce with their busy schedule and taken comfort in the fact that i am still writing on some 'wall' somewhere.

Cut to present day--I am writing for BAT-23, something i had often wished to participate but never did.
Why? because even though i always kept abreast of the contests on this page, i never found myself in the right frame of mind to participate.
I have always been one with a passion for writing.Infact i have been doing it almost since i can even remember.
From personal diaries and journals to newspapers, mags and blogs---i have written everywhere.
Even though i have switched from one medium to another oft and on, my primary blog and confidante still remains 'nostalgic moments' whom i seek solace in confiding with.
However, i have always been quite uncomfortable in posting up melancholic posts here (though i admit, im pretty good at sulking! :P) and that brings me to the reason for the unwilling participation in BAT.

Sad though it might sound, my blog which was everybody's darling and sunshine factor once upon a time, has been labelled as 'mecca of self pity' in the past couple of years, the reason being constant taken-for-granted'ness' in something i considered one of the most important relationships in my life.
While i would lead my heart into believing it was the most precious relation anyone could share, my heart often pointed out to me the constant dissatisfaction it brought about.
Speaking to someone about it would just mean them gasping at what an ignoramus fool i am.
and staying silent would kill me from all the bottled up anger and melancholy, not to mention the frequent mood swings.

Stringing words together into cryptic thoughts and heartfelt scribbles being my sole cheer factor, the only option was to blog about it.
Blogging was my vent board, my open window, my agony aunt..whom i could turn to..
and so i did!
Writing about things made me not only reflect on what had happened but it also gave a channel to pain release.
I felt better.
But the moment some comment hinted towards the slightest bit of sympathy, it angered me..added to my humiliation..clinged on to the depression i was going through and made me ponder on the sorry doormat'ish' state i had been rendered.
I would then proceed to post in a superficial update just to make up for it.

I had almost stopped writing fiction because everything i wrote bordered on depression.
I had stopped participating in contests because that would just mean thousands of people reading me and the collective sympathy would just add to my already existing agony.
I had lost my wit..my natural instinct to indulge in humorous writing..not to mention, my mind!
I was caged..in a depressive mind which strived hard to prove that it could sometimes be 'manic' too (because i thought it was better to be seen as 'bipolar' than as 'chronically depressed').
It was a different thing that i almost always failed to do so.

So, hows that im participating in BAT today?
...every once in a while, there comes a day of enlightenment in everybody's life...a day which you either choose to notice or choose to ignore.
The one you choose to ignore is the one you never ~~want to~~ notice----out of hope, love, commitment, trust---you cling on to the blindfold you know you are wearing and refuse to take it off.
You live in dissatisfaction..in disharmony..in discontent..until one day, you cant take it anymore.
The want to escape from the pain, the hurt overwhelms you until your heart is totally enveloped by the strong urge to let go.
and then no amount of self persuasion works--because the heart has made its decision!
It wants to break free!!

Getting out of something you have emotionally given your 100% to, is not an easy task.
When i did that, i sure had my initial moments of introspection.
but looking back, i have never felt so free before.
People say they can notice it in my attitude, my writing.I know they are right..i can feel it too.
This stage of my life taught me something about relationships----that its not always about holding on..sometimes its about letting go.and that is one valuable lesson i will never forget.
.
....
........
So you see ladies and gentlemen, that is the story of my life till now and how the meaning of 'free' has changed with the meaning of 'happiness' in every phase.

I know this is not just my story..but the story of almost everyone around here.

Someday when we all break free and meet up there in a more equal world, lets catch up over coffee and talk of the best things in life which actually did come for free, but perhaps passed us by, while we were too busy in the skeptical pursuit of the 'free' lunch that we convinced ourselves, we would never have.

till then,

adios amigos!! :)

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Happy Independence Day!

'My favorite PC app'---not a school essay, mindya!

2011-08-13T12:25:00.019+10:00

When i first received an email alert from indiblogger announcing the 'My favorite PC app' contest, i was only too happy to participate.
I had just downloaded the 'NOOK for PC' on the computer, a couple of weeks back and here was a chance to brag about it.
Well, all those who know me personally would know what a geek i can be.
Being surrounded by books right from an early age, i can proudly say that 'books' have been my oldest companion.
I remember when i was a kid, summer holidays used to mean frequent trips to the library.
From my pre-teen collection of 'famous five' 'three investigators' 'hardy boys' 'the five findouters' 'tintin' and 'sweet valley' to 'Erich Segal' 'Emily Bronte' 'Khalil Gibran' 'Khaled Housseini' 'Orhan Pamuk' to finally now, a stage wherein i am ready to devour almost any book i set my eyes on (and then burp or puke accordingly)...trust me, it has been one hell of a journey.

So when i learnt that i could have all the books i wanted at the click of a button, i was overjoyed.
All my favorite authors in one single place...a whole library of heavy cumbersome books all packed in one easy application, my joy knew no bounds.
I immediately downloaded the 'NOOK' on my pc, from the App centre and since then have been enjoying fast and easy access to all my favorite books---a treat that any avid reader would love to experience.
Beyond all doubt, the 'NOOK' has to be my favorite 'PC App'
Supported Operating Systems for the NOOK app (you can download for free from the intel appcentre)

* Windows 7 32 bit
* Windows 7 64 bit
* Windows XP

Apart from speed and easy accessibility, the other highlights of this application are--

1) You can now enjoy a great selection of over 2 million titles to choose from (a ready made library)..and even download more.

2) It enables you to automatically sync your last page and bookmarks to any other device with a NOOK eReading application.

3)You can add notes as you read, highlight those quotes close to your heart and bookmark to continue reading from where you last stopped.

4) You can now sample-read any NOOK Book for FREE and get FREE 14-day NOOK Magazine and NOOK Newspaper trials.

5) You can share as many NOOK Books as you want, with friends and family with exclusive LendMe(TM) technology.

Had my childhood been the age of computers, e-books and NOOK apps, it would have saved me all the trouble of packing up my mini library collection, everytime i went holidaying.
Besides it would have also saved me from the torture of being labelled a 'geek' (who weighed much less than the library she carried along) and my family, the back pain from having to carry more than half the load..Sigh!!
Another added advantage is that I now do not have to lend my books to anyone and fear that they'd end up lost.I hate lending books.more because im always worried that people might lose them or never turn up to return them----say what you want, but i guess that would be just one creepy insecurity i'd have to deal with my whole life through if it wasn't for this lifechanging application---"NOOK" :D
Now i can simply use the 'LendMe' technology and share whichever book they want.
Also it would save my book from rough handlers and pesky friends who still use the primitive method of marking pages by folding a small corner at the top (yikesss!! i hate the expression as much as i hate to see a book with those 'dog ears'..whatever!)

So bottom line is the 'NOOK app' is a blessing in disguise for all those using a laptop, tablet, or even an old fashioned PC..

Afterall books are one companion that will never leave your side..and just in case you are worrying that they might, when you are too old to carry them around or too weak to read them in fine print, your days of worry are over.
With the NOOK app, you can now zoom up your favorite e-book to whatever font size you want and enjoy reading comfortably.

and finally, i end my post here with the parting words of a wise old woman who lived in a nook of the world wide web (no brownie points for guessing who!)---Reading is life...give up on reading, give up on life!! *takes a quick bow and returns to her virtual library*

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This blog is an entry to the "My Favorite PC App" contest. Check out apps for PC/Netbooks available at the Intel AppUp Center. If you are looking for an opportunity to build and monetize your applications, check out the Intel® Atom™ Developer Program" at the bottom of the post.

If you liked the post, please vote by promoting it here

"Musings of a wanderer"--Book Review

2011-08-12T18:25:00.013+10:00

Title: Musings Of A Wanderer.

Author: Shreya Chatterjee

Publisher: Power Publishers

Price: Rs 100/-

"Musings of a wanderer" is a splendid collection of heart felt verses by Shreya Chatterjee, a writer by profession and a poet at heart.
Born and brought up in the land of 'mishti doi' and 'rasogullas', shreya studied at the G.D Birla Centre For Education, Presidency College Kolkatta and the University of calcutta and has been writing since her school and college days.
She writes mostly in English and Bengali and has had her work published in college mags and other magazines like 'Rohon d'etre' and 'bohnik',
You can read more of her on her blog here.

On reading "Musings of a wanderer", it is impossible to ignore the deep talent amalgamated with a strong passion for writing, that this young soul is blessed with..
Shreya chatterjee has with great success, managed to use her literary abilities to ink out the simple mediocrities of day to day life.
While some poems speak of intense emotions, some manage to tease the small flicker of a feeling we all have encountered at some point in our life.

Each piece though short in length, manages to create a ripple of emotions and makes you reminisce long after you have finished reading it.
Be it through a small line like "let the night remain the same" (from the poem 'a shower at night') which speaks about holding onto the moment and wanting to never let it go for fear that it will vanish in the monotony of an average reality, or the ending stanza of another brilliant verse which says "lost roads are still whispering...beckoning me to walk over them", she manages to pick up a thought that you had tucked away and make you ponder on it, all over again.

The down to earth maturity and the free flowing language create an intrigue in the reader, leaving him smiling after every piece...a smile for what had crossed his mind..but perhaps could never express as lucidly.

A few personal favs from the collection (in no particular order) of 93 and the lines i got struck by---
1) name of poem: Fiasco of an escapist.
Favorite lines:

"I am running...
away in search...
of a little peace...
a little escape perhaps...
a little forgotten me...
a little deja vu-away, beyond..."

My thoughts: The poet has beautifully described the escapist frame of mind.We have all at some point of time, been through this phase, the urge to slip away from reality in that never ending pursuit of happiness.

2) name of poem: The Waiting
Favorite lines

"She stood there
and i waited here

silence breathed
in between."

My Thoughts: How many times have we failed to break the silence due to reluctance of taking the first step?
torn between the if-only's and never-mind's...losing battles that are never fought!

3) name of poem: Sombre Tales
favorite lines: picking up a line would spoil the effect of the piece.
my thoughts: The poet speaks about a clandestine love and still maintains the secrecy of the affair.
The half spoken phrases which adorn the poem show a reluctance to narrate the story as it is and yet, the confidence that the air she breathes would whisper their tale.
All in all, a beautiful write.

4) name of the poem: Downcast eyes.
Favorite lines: picking up a favorite line would not do justice to the poem.
My thoughts: Men dont cry...says who?
A poem which will make every woman rethink the next time she calls a man, heartless.

5) name of poem: Sleepless.
Favorite Lines:

"I am thinking endless misstatements,
nights creep, crawl, tiptoe away,
i stare bluntly as they pass away,
Sleepless i remain sleepless, forever."

My thoughts: Something every insomniac would relate to, a haunting poem which will make you ponder on the reasons of your sleeplessness and perhaps give you more reason for the same ;)

6) name of poem: Blood.
Favorite lines:

"Some like Keats have wondered about the redness,
some have just wiped it off,
for fresh blood to ooze out"

My Thoughts: a sad ironical take on today's harsh reality and our helplessness to know and yet, be able to do nothing about it..and once again, the same question comes to mind, "Are we really safe?"

7) name of poem: Wires
favorite lines: Picking up a favorite line would fail to render it, the desired perspective.
my thoughts: a heart wrenching take on love beyond enemy lines.
Reading it makes just one thought come to mind---love has no boundaries!!

8) name of poem: To be a woman.
favorite lines:

"Gauging me needs a fiery heart,
requires the prowess of a wounded lion.
touch me-a dream not to be fulfilled...
i am wind that never stands still
i am light that stays invisible."

My thoughts: a piece which reminds you of Elvis Costello's "she"..Shreya Chatterjee has rightly captured the heartwarming yet soulstirring journey in the life of a woman :)

9) name of poem: Breaking.
Favorite Lines: loved the impact the entire poem created.
My Thoughts: Sometimes out thoughts are misunderstood..our actions miinterpreted.
"Breaking" speaks of the clear difference in the thought processes and ego clash between martians and venutians..and how an emotional crisis can cause both to lose clarity of the situation.

10) name of poem:Sudden Shower.
Favorite Lines:

"a drop and another followed
i had given up hope...
and now my shower
has returned
with full vigor."

My Thoughts: There are times in life, when opportunity knocks unexpected..when light shimmers in at the darkest moments..when all of a sudden, wishes are granted when they are least expected.
"Sudden Shower" is based on the above experience wherein the poet has given up all hope only to find, by a twist of fate, her dream fulfilled.

Ofcourse there are other pieces which make your heart skip a beat..which manage to get a lump in your throat..and make you sigh!
In short, the book might look pretty simple and straight..but its only when you read it with full concentration, that you get to notice the writer's inspiring insight in the normal events and emotions of day to day life..

However having said all of the above, here are a few minor deficiencies which require mentioning--
1) The index of poems could be well categorised into distinct sections based on the topics/labels.
This would enable the reader to select his 'read' according to the mind frame he is in.This is of much importance considering it is a collection of poems and poetry is something which can only be appreciated if read in the correct frame of mind.

2) There are many places wherein the punctuation seems marred.
This hampers the flow of the poem and makes it difficult for the reader to gauge the continuity in the right places as desired by the writer's perspective.

Other then these minor forgivable complaints, i find no other fault in the series.

The book ends on a lovely note, "we shall meet in a place" which speaks of innocence and hope..of living in a perfect world..of freedom..of a new day to come!

Im glad i got a chance to read this book and i know i will surely pick it up from my bookshelf whenever im feeling down--to read and learn from these innocent musings of an insightful wanderer, once again.

Book rating: 3.5 out of 5

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This review is a part of the Book Reviews Program at BlogAdda. Participate now to get free books!

a not-so-formal invite to THE big day...

2011-08-08T13:49:00.019+10:00

I have good news for you. *throws secretive looks all around*
Ok, for all those who assumed im getting hitched from the title of the post in your google feeds and rushed to my blog to read about it, i dont blame you. :D :D
This was actually just a cheap trick of getting you all to come here and read my post..heehee
and no, this is not about my marriage..this is something much more important.ahem!

Sooo brace yourself, ladies and gentlemen...as i proudly announce thaaaaaaat

my long awaited baaaabbbyyyy is arriving in India on the 10th of august 2011...finally!!!!!
*drumrolls in the background*

Do not miss the live webcast of the launch.
be there...
be with me...
celebrate my euphoria!!!
*throws confetti in the air followed by a sheepish shrug and facepalm*

On a slightly more formal note (for you to understand the seriousness of the situation and err..ofcourse my sentiments too..ahem!), all of you are cordially invited to the auspicious occasion of the live official webcast launch on the

AUSPICIOUS DAY--- 10th august 2011.
AUSPICIOUS TIME--12.00pm to 2.00pm
VENUE---my blog 'nostalgic moments'
No RSVP permitted please
Presents in blessings and 'clicks' only (though bouts of generosity and affection involving someone gifting me a SGT [Samsung Galaxy Tab] will be most welcome)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here's a sneak peek--just for you,

Featuring a 10.1-inch display, the new Tab runs on Android Honeycomb, an nVIDIA Tegra 2 processor clocked at 1GHz, 1GB of RAM with 16/32/64 GB variants for internal storage.
It has the added feature of dual cameras--3.0MP on the rear and 2.0 MP on the front.
The SGT 10.1 is slimmer than the iPad 2 (8.6 mm) and has a 7,000 mAh battery that is good enough for playing 72 hours of music.

OK..that's enough for now..i wont kill the suspense..you got to wait for the launch to know more of my hero!! :-|

Till then watch this space, spread the word and count the hours while i dream about THE big day.

CHEEEYUUUUURRRRRRRSSSS!!!

P.S: (This post is written as a part of the 'samsung mobiler's contest' held by indiblogger for the month of august.)
The webcast video will be streamed on 10th august.so please update your calenders and phones and adjust your schedules to grace the occasion.
(for those who still think im kidding, im HELL serious! If buying a SGT doesn't fit your interest, atleast gifting it to someone should..*bats eyelashes*)

All For You

2011-08-07T03:29:00.009+10:00

When twilight drops her silky scarf,
and your chosen path turns around a bend,
remember il'l be there for you,
just in case you need a friend.

When the sunshine stands peeping out,
and those faded memories cross your mind,
hold on to them--dont let them go,
turn and you'll find me right behind.

When the morning frenzy kicks right in,
and the rest of the day seems all a haze,
close your eyes and il'l be there,
to remind you that its just a phase.

When the noon is rough and evening low,
and life has put you to the test,
dont stoop and bow or bend and break,
just keep walking and give your best.

When the moon seems harsh & the night feels cold,
and time refuses you sleep to lend,
remember il'l be there for you,
just in case you need a friend.

turnoffs list #1----Mind Your Language!

2011-08-02T01:33:00.008+10:00

I was talking to a blogger, the other day and he suggested that i should write up a list of what things/traits in people annoy me..so that those who find themselves in the list stay away from me right at the start, to avoid future disappointment and war cry..

i guess he was joking or perhaps he was being sarcastic..but i kinda liked the idea..

So here i am, presenting to you all, my first list of turnoff's *drumrolls*
and though im aware that at the end of this series im writing (yea, this is just the first list..heehee) i might be pretty friend'less', i will still take the risk and go ahead with it..sigh!
Please take it with a pinch of salt and do not feel offended---you can concentrate on the bright side instead, atleast you would now know how 'not' to impress me--tadaaa!! ;)

so here's the first list----'mind your language!!'

1) when someone messes up with grammar while speaking..esp if its inserting the present continuous form of the adjective eg "you liking this? you liking that" and so on.

2) when someone tries to use words like "footwear" and "clothing" for "shoes" and "clothes"

3) major turnoff would be someone combining 1 & 2 and coming up with something along the lines of "YOU LIKING MY FOOTWEAR?"

please note--this was actually said to me by a stranger in one of london's topmost shoe stores...just when i was so close to getting all impressed with her style of dressing, she walked up to me all smiles (happy to see another indian face i guess).What then followed, was one of the most disastrous conversations which included a ruthless cold blooded blood curdling murder of english and a line which stuck in my head for posterity--"you liking my footwear??" she asked tossing her head back with what could have been easily mistook as the attitude of a hollywood starlet.
and that was it!! Even the fact that she was a fellow indian & the only familiar desi face around, didn't help..i was majorly put off..managed a fake smile & something that looked some what close to a affirmative nod and scurried off.

4) when someone mispronounces "bear" as "beer"
more than put off, im terrified of such people..terrified for dear life..let me explain.
Imagine if you are caught up in the wild dangerous jungles of south africa with one such a person.
Just when you have started consoling yourself that there is hope of getting out alive, she/he screams "LOOK!! BEE-YEAR BEHIND YOU!!!!!"

Now considering the sorry pronunciation, it is very likely that you get all excited & do a mental joy-dance in your head before turning around in anticipation of the chilled golden liquid and actually getting a heart attack.

See!! that is exactly why such people put me off!!

5) people who mix up genders while speaking..this category also involves people who, in a desperate attempt to sound cool, use phrases like "dudeeeeee" even if its a dudette in question..
also, people speaking 'tapori' (if you know what i mean) hindi & to some extent the 'stereotyped bengali' hindi also manage to tick me off (please note---ive specifically mentioned "stereotyped" as i know quite a many bengalis who can give hindi pundits a run for their money...besides, unlike the former 'sadakchhap tapori's' of maximum city, they do not take pride in murdering the language & are almost apologetic---a trait i find quite humble & cute.

6) when people use words like 'fcuk' to express their degree of frustration..nowadays most use it just cos they think its cool..replacing it with 'phhish' or 'what the fishing tank' (yea, that is the latest moronic version, that ive heard).
people who think, using expletives is cool, ought to really go for 'grey cell transplant' or something..its not routinely done on earth..but im sure there are more like me, who are willing to fund their transport charges.

7) not to forget the high pitched pseudo accented specimens...how i just cant stand those!!

Most often than not, the accent is picked up after staying a couple of months in UAE or S'pore or something.
ok, if it has obviously brushed onto you after staying light years in some foreign land, it is still acceptable...but cmon, two weeks back you leave the airport muttering a 'hanumaan chaalisa' under your breath and then you come back after a fortnight acting all 'phirang' is just so damn hilarious..
ohh & needless to mention, a total turnoff..it just shows me how embarrassed you are about where you come from.

8) and lastly but not the least, people with halitosis...i mean, the least they can do is have a listerine mouth wash, before talking to me.

or else they ought not expect me not to
---run away.
---puke right infront of them.
---keep mum and carefully open out a tissue/wipe which to their embarrassment & much to the amusement of people around, hold it over my face, every time they open their mouth to say something.
---all of the above in ascending.
yeah, ive got a sensitive system like that...and im no Siegfried to handle the situation!! :-|
This category also involves those who are naturally inclined to blow off spit bubbles in your face, as they speak..just one word for this group---EYUCKKKKK!!!!!

ok i know that the last category does not really justify as a 'mind your language' point.but i seriously think these people are better off with their mouth shut, atleast until they do something about it.sigh!!

hmmmm...i guess that is about all as far as 'speech' is concerned...we will come to the other departments later ;)
soooooooooooo, until we meet again (with turnoffs list #2), watch the space...

adios!!!

time for some musical interaction----ANTAKSHARI-3!!!

2011-07-21T14:29:00.005+10:00

We have always had a rocking time when we played antakshari on 'nostalgic moments'..I was just talking to my friends about it the other day and reminiscing about those times when it was a super duper success here and here
So on popular demand, we present before you "ANTAKSHARI-3" as promised eons ago.

the rules are as follows, for those who are still not aware---

'online antakshari' is just a simple game wherein you start with a song and the next person takes it from the last letter of the last word of that song and types (because unfortunately the virtual world has its limitations) another song...

lets try not to repeat any of the songs because repetition kinda spoils the fun..and make sure we dont murder any lyrics around here.we dont want those lyricists turning in their graves ;)
ohh and typing more than just two lines of the song is mandatory.
if by chance two people comment in at the same time with two different songs for the same letter, then the one who's comment appeared first will be considered.
anyone and everyone is invited to participate any number of times.so please feel free to spread the word around, because like we all know--when it comes to antakshari, the more the merrier!

so here we go, i will start with the opening song in the comment section..so take it from there and sing along..

cheers to life and our love for music...

YENJOYYYYYY!!! :) :) :)

cryptic thoughts #32

2011-07-20T22:08:00.003+10:00

How do you catch up with the past to let it know that you are moving towards the future when you are rather sure it has moved on already, and is perhaps a lot ahead of you?
Is it the respect you once had, that is making you feel obliged for all those memories which will perhaps never leave your side, even as you walk towards a new future?
or is it a deep sense of responsibility urging you to complete a story half finished?

You feel you cant move ahead without taking along that piece of your soul which you left behind...
and then again, in the pursuit of retrieving what is left behind, are you totally convinced that the past wont suck you back in its endless abyss?

Feeling stuck between everything and nothing as a strange kinda 'dead-weight inertia tugs at me, refusing to let go.

Is silence the only option or is it just an easy way out?

a slice of ZNMD!!!

2011-07-19T17:39:00.005+10:00

Besides the awesome "toh zinda ho tum" piece of poetry in the movie, there were other magical moments which stole my heart..
The friendship was amazing..the chemistry, sizzling...the adventure, totally mindblowing...and the cast of the movie couldn't have been better.
All in all, a must watch..totally 'paisa vasool' movie which makes you walk out of the movie hall with a smile on your face.

Farhan Akhtar's future seems super bright..he couldnt have fit the role any more perfectly.After 'ZNMD', ive become a fan of not just his voice but his 'acting' skills too.
But what takes the cake is the super sensational poetry by Javed Akhtar, which pulls at your heart strings and just refuses to let go.
So much was its charm that i couldn't help but youtube and hear it all over again :)

...apne hone pe mujhko yakeen aa gaya...

...humne dil ko yeh samajhaya, dil aakhir tu kyu rota hai...duniya mei yunhi hota hai...

...jiska pata tumko bhi hai...jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai..duniya se bhi chhupta nahi, yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai...

Those who havent watched it yet, please do yourselves a favour and go for it.
'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' rocks!!!

cryptic thoughts #31

2011-07-17T03:40:00.010+10:00

You are living in your world of assumptions---the one you keep building brick by brick...floor by floor, ignoring and paying no heed to the walls of incomplete stories and half shared secrets that have always been enveloping it.

Someday this world you are building is bound to crumble and these walls of concrete realities will close in on you, making you smile for having missed the obvious, in the never ending pursuit to straighten out the creases in the details, all your life...

Hopefully that day, realisation will dawn on how some cracks always showed and how you who were too engrossed living in your world of assumptions, always ignored them...

Hopefully that day, you would stop and actually see things from a different perspective rather than complaining that no one saw it from yours...

till then, enjoy the view!!!

bombay kiski jaan??

2011-07-15T16:22:00.008+10:00

Blasts in my favorite city leave me shuddering with fear, yet again.
When will this terror end?

I was checking the goa-bombay airfare online, when i received a text from one of my friends in bombay "ask me if im safe" it said..
I was trying to comprehend the text when my sis came rushing from her room, asking me to switch on the tv.and there it was screaming headlines on almost all news channel.

My friend wasn't drunk texting me--there had been major blasts in bombay, once again!!

My first reaction was one of utter shock and disbelief.
It was just a few days ago that i was planning a trip to bombay and as hell had wanted it, i was about to leave around this very same time.
But apparently as a stronger force wouldn't have it, this was not to happen and my trip got rescheduled to the months end.
I was just recovering from the shock of the situation, when the headlines and gory explosion site-scenes caught my attention once again.

There had happened three blasts in total.
The first was planted at Khau Gali in south Mumbai's Zaveri Bazaar, the second happened at the Opera House, near Charni Road, and within a matter of minutes,the third device which was placed on an electric pole at a Kabutar Khana bus stand in the Dadar area, exploded.
The injured were being rushed in rickshaws and as per reports there were several who had to walk to the hospital with bleeding heads and gashing wounds despite being severely injured.

The police claimed to find a body with some circuits and hence conclude that this was some suicide bomber who was appointed to the task.

Everyone is speculating..some say that since the attack occured on the 13th, it has to be the 'Mujahideen' group that must be involved..while others say that this could be the work of any terrorist group who decided to seek revenge on Kasab's birthday.while some police authorities are still contemplating whether it could be some mafia game, like the blasts that happened way back in 1990.

My question however, is and has always been the same--when does this stop? or rather, is there any end to this?

How long before we step out of the house expecting to return back safe, and actually returning?
If the governament can pass smart ass comments like claiming to decipher a code for the attacks, then why in hell are they not taking any action against it?
Why isn't Kasab hanged yet?
Why the staunch need to follow the most ethical protocol when it comes to a death sentence of someone who is responsible for so many deaths and death-like-states?
Ofcourse the government would have answers..doesn't it always?
Its india afterall..we ask questions, we get answers!!
The issue however is that we ask questions only when there is an attack..and the actions promised are postponed indefinitely until ofcourse its time to promise again.

Are we the public, too lazy to react?
or has the "we are survivors" theory overwhelmed our duped conscience so much that we are now taking pride in this reactionless silence?

How many times has this happened in the past and how many times have we felt this surge of rage before?
and then what happened?..the rage simmered down after a couple of days..everyone stopped talking about it..everyone celebrated the everlasting fighter spirit of bombay.
ohh cmon, arn't we getting bored of this now?!!

One cheap remark i heard someone make today was "arreee...why so much reaction? it is nowhere like the 26/11 terrorist attack"
What in hell is that supposed to mean?
why dont you go and say that to the parents of that recently married 26 year old who went to work in the morning, and never returned?
why dont you go and compare the tragedies with that mourning wife who lost her husband in the blast? those parents who lost their son? those families who got their near and dear ones injured?
Yea they would be able to describe the exact intensity of the blast, not you who is conveniently sitting within the comforts of your home and flipping news channels and comparing situations.

So now that we have all seen, heard and lamented about the 13th july 2011 blasts, tell me---how many of those hugs offered to random strangers as a campaigne to fight terrorism, helped?..how many of those candles lighted, raised even a flicker of sympathy in those who planted the bombs?
What happened to those pages we 'liked' on facebook? those badges we pinned against out display pics? those movies which left us teary eyed? or for that matter, even these posts we wrote and continue to write on our blogs?
WHAT HAPPENED?? NOTHING!!!

Its disgusting really--how bombay which was supposed to be the 'city of dreams' has turned into a 'haven of nightmares'.

and we, the 'brave' survivors (who were lucky or perhaps lazy enough to have decided to stay at home) still have no choice but to shove it in the dark recesses of our short term memory, make a sad face and use the most overrated and unfortunately still the most overused line in the world, "what can we do? life moves on, no?"

Are we just waiting--in silence, in fear, in dread...waiting for the next time?

romancing with the moon...

2011-07-10T13:33:00.006+10:00

I steal a glance,
he peeps at me,
and both of us light up with glee...
ohh how easy it can sometimes be,
romancing with the moon...

a tired soul,
a weary mind,
a better friend i couldn't find...
so unique and one of its kind,
is my romance with the moon...

counting hours,
until its night,
the world watches a lovers plight...
but nothing ever could feel so right
as romancing with the moon...

the soothing calmness,
the tranquil skies,
a million dreams in twinkling eyes,
all shared with no surprise,
while romancing with the moon...

no love affair,
has a trust so fine,
he knows im his and i know he is mine...
despite a million odds in line,
is my romance with the moon

an unspoken promise,
that we always keep,
to meet before we go to sleep...
as fate takes a boundless leap,
while romancing with the moon...

dancing in the rain,
singing with the stars,
makes me forget life's painful scars...
and im swept away in a world that's ours,
while romancing with the moon...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writers note---
We as humans, all feel the need of solitude sometimes---the need to stay away from the crowd...the need to spend time alone..the need to protect ourselves from the hurt which we fear would eventually stem, from all things transient.
this piece is written in one such a frame of mind.

'Romancing with the moon' is symbolic of believing in the small gleam of hope which is capable of lighting up the darkest of nights..the tiny glitter of permanency which promises to never leave our side---the connection with our selves, the rendezvous with our soul..the whisper of our heartbeats...the conversations with our inner voice.

Even though the metaphorical ‘moon' is light years away from us, he still manages to evoke in us a guarantee that there is someone who will always be willing to listen to our side of the story, the one link capable of bridging the distance between soulmates separated over space and time---‘OUR CONSCIENCE’!!

This work of mine has been published in 'THE VIEWSPAPER' an online paper for the youth...to view the poem, click here :) :)

sheeshe ki gudia...

2011-07-09T14:13:00.011+10:00

sheeshe ki gudia aaj toot hi gayi...
naaz tha apne khwabon per,
ashaon per armaano per,
ankhon ki masoomiyat per,
ladakhpan ki masroofiyat per,
dil ki komal sarsarahat per,
khamosh pyaar ki aahat per,
khudai per insaniyat per,
dhadkanon ke ruhaniyat per,
izhaar ke nazuk ikraar per
do dilon ke sacche pyaar per,
aakhir mohabbat usse rooth hi gayi...
sheesh ki gudia aaj toot hi gayi..

sheeshe ki gudia aaj toot hi gayi...
apne kho gaye ek ajnabi khel mein,
chaahat bikhar gayi rishton ki 'sale' mein,
alladpan badal gaya ek karhwe ehsaas mein,
ankhein nam hui kashmakash ke gehre raaz mein,
deewani banke haari na-mukammal preet mein,
vishwas raha na uska jeevan na miit mein,
aakhir sapno ki duniya usse chhoot hi gayi...
sheeshe ki gudia aaj toot hi gayi...

The above piece is something i had penned down quite a while ago (in a weird frame of mind, im assuming..hmmm!)
I found it while cleaning my desk today and so decided to post it.

project---'muse'!!!

2011-07-08T13:29:00.002+10:00

would you allow me to paint your secret?
go visit one of your private most thoughts and stay there long enough to find my inspiration?
and then when im inspired enough, would you still not change your mind?
i might grow old by then..not be as zestful anymore..my hands might tremble from weakness and age..and while i decide which colour to paint with, would you have the same patience and let me stay?

would you allow me to paint your secret?
the one that i am yet not aware of?
the one which you have been hiding from the world behind that curtain of anonymity?
the one you flinch when approached to uncover?
would you share that secret with me and wait long enough to see the masterpiece formed once the colours set?

would you allow me to paint your secret?
would you trust me enough to let me enter into the dark recesses of your mind and peep at whats going on, in there?
would you share every single detail of your life with me---the ones i do not know of and even the ones i need not know of?
and would you not hesitate even a little while doing so?

I know what it is to have your secrets painted..
I once let someone paint all of mine---only to realise that the masterpiece which i expected to stay sacrosanct turned out to be nothing but a careless splay of colours splashed over the wall for all to see and mock at.
The colours were all wrong and so was the artist whom i had trusted them with.
and that is when i decided to paint my own masterpiece--because then was that i learned the true strength of human emotions..and how a small crack in trust can make even the strongest of relations crumble to pieces.

but had i to not share my secret, had i to keep my thoughts to myself, i would never have learned---
what happiness meant--the happiness that comes from confiding in someone...
what hurt meant---the hurt the heart feels when that someone lets you down...
what confidence meant---the confidence to stay firm & listen to your conscience...
what strength meant--the strength in letting go & moving on or atleast trying to...

Betrayal of trust is not your misfortune (which we often tend to feel)..but rather, it is the misfortune of the ones who let your trust down---for they would realise the value of trust someday, a little too late.

I do not intend to scare you...neither am i holding a 'trust me at your own risk' placard.
Im just keeping the cards before you---noone knows what tomorrow may look like.Its futile to make promises because life has an uncanny way of making or breaking them as and how it wants to.
Whether the future would hold the guilt of trusting someone blindly or the fortune of claiming a bond that we can be proud of all through our lives---only time can tell.

and so i ask you to think once again..take your time.
Are you really ready to take that risk?

would you still allow me to paint your secret?

tip tip tip tip baarish...

2011-07-07T20:05:00.003+10:00

Its raining elephants & giraffe's here. :-|

It was just a few days ago when i was praying for the rains.Almost all my facebook status messages revolved around how hot and stuffy it was getting and how the parched earth desperately needed some friendly showers for life to feel human again.

I guess it was more because of my utter frustration and incessant rants that the weather man up there decide to oblige and grant me the favour. (people who know me would know how irritatingly persuasive i can get)

so, yes its raining...and yes, im sulking again :(

Why you ask?? cmonnn...i am aware of the 'jab woh deta hai, toh chhappar phaad ke deta hai' philosphy et al, but this is ridiculous----its been pouring like there's no tomorrow!!! :-|

Murky roads, mornings which could very well pass off as nights in a clockless world, unwanted memories which somehow seep back into life like the raindrops through a leaking roof, roadside swimming contests while on the way to work and back, cold nights, fungus covered walls, frizzy hair days, getting caught while dozing during work hours, cases of malaria & typhoid & if not that, atleast sinusitis.....you get the drift dont you?
To top it all, i now renalise why there are maximum suicide cases reported in seattle---the gloomy weather is the culprit.

Much to my disgust, i am repeatedly reminded of the famous "dekho baarish ho rahi, its raining..its raining..its raining..." & the equally annoying line following it.
eyuccckkk!! my mind plays mean tricks on me at times :-|

Thinking of it, i am a little scared...how can i desperately want & hope for something one day and hate it with equal intensity on the next??
Ive always been a sucker for the rains..the hopeless romantic right from my teenage years (when the hormones kicked in) who thrived on corny bollywood flicks & romantic day dreams with a very thin line of difference in between.

As the years went and the juvenile rush of hormones stabilised, so did the idea of romance.but my love for the rains remained intact..err atleast until a few days ago..or so i thought.

so what happened now?
Have i grown old & cynical..turned jaded & bitter? is it time to buy a cat yet?? :-|

or is this nature's crazy way of giving me a 'sign'----a 'sign' to reconsider?

a 'tip' to tell me that i need to confirm that today's priorities are still the same as yesterday's?
...
......
.........
..............
..................
..........
......
...
..
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm!!!

7th july 2011---pri surprises herself, yet again...

cryptic thoughts #30

2011-07-07T04:12:00.006+10:00

Sometimes when you are faced with too many choices, its only wise to choose none and wait to see which of them would still choose to choose you...

sometimes, destiny ought to be given a chance to express itself!!!

keep the 'chillar'...oye!!

2011-06-30T19:41:00.019+10:00

Tomorrow is marked as a red lettered day in the life of pri :) :) :)
Why you ask?
Well, from tomorrow, 1st july 2011, my friends and family wont have the opportunity to ridicule my err..ummm..singing talent like they have so far been doing.
and who knows, with that soul wrenching demotivation and ego shattering gesture of handing-me-a-25paise-coin-&-giggling-away-to-glory-whenever-i-clear-my-throat-to-sing out of the way, i might just regain my long lost confidence and start with my ~~blood curdling~~ 'rhiyaaz' with new found enthusiasm once again & im sure that soon enough, i will definitely end up becoming the next 'Indian Idol'...er..um..ahem...what-e-ver!!

Now all the Indian Government has to do next, is stop the '50 paise' from circulation so that the phrase 'aamdani atthhanni kharcha rupaiyya' gets out of my way too..and then im sorted!! *heaves a sigh of relief and looks all pleased at the thought*

Anyhoo, with all due respect, i pay my homage and bid goodbye to the oh-so-famous 'chavanni' without whom a lot of fond memories (like those orange toffees, kites, baloons and such other innocent joys of childhood, which costed just 'baara aana' a piece back then) just wouldn't make sense!!!

On a slight philosophical note, perhaps its just another way of life to show us that nothing is constant---yeps, not even 'change'!! :-|

its time you retired, mister cupid!!

2011-06-28T17:54:00.001+10:00

Hey you, cupid,

Yea, its you im talking to--i do not want to get into useless pleasantries..have never been the hypocrite to use one when i don't mean it.
You are the least bit 'dear' to me..so the possibility of me addressing you as so, even in a letter, just does not exist.

So lets get straight to the point.
Isn't it time you stopped picking on me?
I mean, in 'true' casablanca style---out of all the lives of all the people of all the world, do you have to walk into mine??

What's it with you really? for a toddler with diapers, you seem too much of a grinch nowadays.
Ive seen so many people around me dying to experience this feeling called 'love' and you act like they dont exist..turn your back on them..go into ignore mode.

Dude seriously, you need to get a grip on yourself!

Stop dropping in unexpected like this..dont you see the huge sign marked 'visitors not allowed' pinned up by my mind on the front door of my heart?
I mean i know love is 'blind' & all that jazz..but don't you dare use that excuse.
My poor mind has almost gone hoarse screaming 'no entry' even at the slightest sign of your arrival.
so...what then? Have you gone 'hard of hearing' too??

or wait a minute..are you really that sadistic?
I see 'miss A' pining to experience the love she has read of in books & fairytales..she tells me that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.Her heart is adorned frills & fancy with 'welcome signs' and flowery hopes to grace your arrival.
but no!! you choose to ignore her and walk right ahead.

then there is 'Mr B', who is waiting.
waiting for what you ask?
waiting for his 'miss right'.
waiting for you to grace his heart with your presence & give him that one signal he needs.
He has fallen for your evil clone earlier or so he says (i still think it was you in disguise though) and had his heart broken.
but the eternal optimist that he is, has managed to keep his trust in you all intact.
and what do you do?
You leave his beckoning heart aside and walk right ahead, while he sighs & tells himself that perhaps the time is not right.
bullshit i say!!
You have other plans..evil plans..for someone else...for me!!

'Miss C' is waiting too..
Amidst sobs and sniffles, she tells me that you had knocked on her heart sometime back but apparently when she had proceeded to open the door to let that 'special someone' in. she had realised you hadn't knocked at his.
the story had then gone on..with 'miss hope' intervening..crashing..building..crashing..building..and so on..

end result---she is still waiting for you to knock at his door and make him notice how much she loves him.
ofcourse 'miss hope' frequents her far less often nowadays..but you???--you seem to have plain forgotten the whole story!!!

Why? why? WHY??!
let me tell you why..
yes mister evil cupid, i have you all figured out now.

you have got this evil streak in you which most fail to notice.
I have almost been in all the above situations, 'almost' because unlike A, B and C, i accepted that you are just a retarded dwarf who wants to screw up everyone's life---especially mine.

Don't you get it?
Avoiding you has taken up almost my entire life.
Well ive had my share of believing in fairytales..and then had a long and tough struggle unbelieving them too.
so when im completely okay and at peace with myself, why is it that you plan to threaten my peaceful existence?
Dont you realise that your mood swings turn my whle life topsy turvy thus triggering off my mood fluctuations and temper tantrums..for which you, unfortunately are never held responsible out of fear that itl'l give me away.

see mr cupid, lets get this straight ok?
you are like the hypothetical breath of fresh air, which in reality ive heard people complain to be a stinkbomb after a while.
you are the cant-live-without frshness which ive heard people rant they cant live with, with time.
you are the fairytale which clashes with reality & eventually laughs at you for being naive.
you are the eternal love story which is later brutally made to end with the silliest reason in the world or sometimes with no reason at all.
you are the pleasant 'gmornings' & loving 'gnites' that slowly turn into compulsory rituals and proceed to evaporate into fizzles of embarassment in the company of friends as times goes by..
you are the constant addiction which sooner or later turns into a distant memory, one which is either recalled after a fight with the spouse or under the influence of a little too much of inebriation.

naah, don't get me wrong..im neither jaded nor bitter at you.
Sure there are days when cynicism becomes my weapon and life, my punching bag.
Its not like i never believed in you..i did.
There was a time when i actually survived on the concept of true immortal love as depicted in the tales of yore--of Juliet being serenaded by a love lost Romeo..of the heroic Paris & his love for Helena..of Layla & Majnu..of Darcy & Elizabeth..and needless to mention our KJO woven bubble gum love stories which still manage to create a ripple of senseless expectatins in the youth of today.

Ive been through all that & more..infact i still enjoy reading/watching/hearing a love story--i guess that fairytale element in a woman is something that never dies and im no exception.

However, its just that im not too sure if im comfortable with your modern day 'fast track' avtaar, you know---the one who cheats..who lies..who betrays..who stabs in the back..who thinks of love as something akin to a commodity.who doesn't believe in trust, honesty, commitment---the one that i have seen roaming around a little too much nowadays.

and so when i want to revel in your glory, i find it easier to revert to printed love stories, chickflics and romantic classics.

I agree i still find it more consoling to write about some never heart..never seen caricature of love which stems from my imagination and comes to life on paper or blog.
You might think im a romantic and perhaps that is why you hover around me like this.
but please let me clarify---im more of a realist..fully aware that you, cheeky cherub with all your treacherous plans, just don't fit the bill.

In fact, all that ive seen, heard and felt around me is that 98% of the times, you seem to sign a pact with mister murphy and work as a team.
So im not getting fooled by your cute starting act---thankyou very much!!

Hmmm..coming to the long & short of it---for heaven's sake and for the sake of you, me and all humanity, please leave me alone from now on and FOCUS!!
Focus on those who want to experience your ~~black~~ magic instead.

They tell me that i can run but cant hide.no matter how disillusioned i get, you will catch up with me, they say..bah!

Im tired of running mister cupid, lets strike a deal instead.
Lets end it on a friendly note and agree to accept that we are just not meant to be.
You go your separate way & il'l go mine before this gets ugly.

As E. Y. Harburg rightly said,

"O innocent victims of Cupid, Remember this terse little verse..To let a fool kiss you is stupid...To let a kiss fool you is worse"

Someday if you make my heart go tachycardic, il'l think of you and pop in an 'anti-anxiety' pill to calm my nerves..
and someday, if you feel the tempt to pay me a chaotic visit, please with all due respect, spare me the torture & IGNORE it.

with minimal regards & lukewarm wishes,

pri

from this moment...

2011-06-24T17:30:00.010+10:00

ctrl+alt+del

the power of love

2011-06-08T19:32:00.019+10:00

She lies awake thinking of her love...the rain drops caressing her face, as the stars are tempted to reach out & touch her.
She gazes into the open expanse wondering about the play of destiny---the destiny which makes her always yearn for a love so out of reach that her expectations almost seems juvenile..
"why does she keep testing fate all the time? why cant she wish for something simple?" she hears the trees whispering as the amused wind lashes out waves of laughter at them.

She has done it again--
given her heart to the impossible..
prepared herself for the inevitable..
learnt to fight the unacceptable...
& ultimately agreed to reason and submit to her stubborn conscience which simply refuses to let go.

She lies awake thinking of what lies ahead..fully aware of the forces of nature chiding her, warning her of the storm that is just around the corner, capable of shattering her into a million pieces.

Smiling at the skies, "i care not of the days to come" she responds, "ive fallen in love with the night, this time...ive fallen in love with the night!!"

As the hours pass by, the rain stops singing, but her soul continues to hum the tune of love..
the trees stop swaying, but her heart continues to dance to the rhythm of delight.
the wind stops blowing, but her mind continues to lash out visions of happy memories.
the stars stop shining, but her eyes continue to twinkle in anticipation of the future
...
......
..........
...............
....................
............
......
...
and when the new dawn arises, the first rays of the morning sun tap gently on the window pane, only to see a half sleepy lover, peeping from behind a blanket of dreams, silently hoping, for the unseen, untold, unexpressed and yet, much awaited moment...the moment when the night would prove the world wrong and her love would triumph!!

disclaimer---this is purely a work of fiction inspired by the rains, i guess...
the author is otherwise mostly a skeptic at heart!! ;)

of 'typealyzer' & all that jazz!!

2011-06-07T01:03:00.011+10:00

I was randomly browsing the web when i came across this site which makes an analysis of your blog and tells you what type you are..
A deep sense of boredom & intrigue is precisely what made me enter my link and find out what it had to say..

Here's what it said about me---
The analysis indicates that the author of http://lifeofpri.blogspot.com is of the type:

INFP - The Idealists
[INFP]
The meaning-seeking and unconventional type. They are especially attuned to making sure their beliefs and actions are congruent. They often develop a passion for the arts or unusual forms of self-expression.

They enjoy work that are aligned to their deeply felt values and tend to strongly dislike the more practical and mundane forms of tasks. They can enjoy working alone for long periods of time and are happiest when they can immerse themselves in personally meaningful projects.

There is a graphical display too which shows dominant parts during the writing.
I tried to paste it here but somehow it wasn't possible..needless to mention, that was kinda flattering too :D :D

Well, perhaps its just another of those random feel-good analytical surveys..but what the heck, who's complaining? ;)

Try it out & do share the link of your blog analysis in my comment section---would love to read.

starlight express

2011-06-01T16:36:00.011+10:00

I walk towards the station,
and await the approaching train...
looking back one last time,
at those memories on 'nostalgia' lane...

cos the 'starlight express' is coming,
to take me far away...
into a land where wishes are granted,
and dreams are there to stay...

a land where feelings are treasured,
and friendships forever last...
where only happiness is eternal,
and hurt, a thing of the past...

where the present shows a future,
a promising one indeed...
where health & prosperity lingers,
in sickness and in need...

where the whole world stands united,
and the only religion is 'love'...
where evil dare not cast its shadow
in fear of the one above...

I am waiting at the station,
with my baggage left behind,
the heart surprisingly tranquil,
no second thoughts cross my mind...

cos the 'starlight express' is coming,
to take me far away...
as i am beckoned into this journey,
a journey through a brand new day!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
writer's note: "starlight express" is about a real journey to an imaginary place---a place i visit every night and am made to return from in the morning..and yes, it is named 'starlight express' for a reason!! :)

games people play

2011-05-31T22:18:00.007+10:00

Im sure all of us have played this game.
Those from my generation definitely must have, as kids.
Thinking about it, we as grownups still play it nowadays--just that the rules have slightly changed.

Back then, it was all about throwing the dice..
Nowadays, its more about who gets to throw it...

Back then, if the dice rolled out a six, it meant we got an extra go at it...
Nowadays, there are just no second chances...

Back then, the snakes hailed at one stationary spot which we prayed fervently to avoid...
Nowadays, the 'snakes' make it a point to follow you wherever you are going...

Back then, a little cheating was allowed with friends, just to get ahead...
Nowadays, there are no friends----just opponents competing with each other at stab-back & break-neck speed...

Back then, it was all in the spirit of the game...
Nowadays, its all about war cry for victory...

Back then, two people could climb the same ladder and reach the same spot...
Nowadays, you get to climb each rung only after you push someone down as there is only room for one at the top...

Back then, it was a game called 'snakes & ladders'...
Nowadays, its called 'life'!!!

keep the distance!!

2011-05-30T14:03:00.007+10:00

There is a painting on a distant wall..

I stare at it long enough and then wonder what details the artist has tried to capture in it.

I go closer to appreciate those details..closer...more closer...

and then there comes a point where everything appears a blur.

but the dreamer in me, who is much too intrigued by then, ignores the haze and keeps going closer trying to build up the clarity believing what she perhaps 'wants' to believe.
until slowly and surely, i start seeing a pattern in the blur...a pattern so beautiful that even the artist cannot have had imagined...a pattern which probably is not even meant to exist.

Dazzled by my own imagination, i continue staring at it, appreciating its beauty more with my heart than with my eyes...until..someone standing at a distance comes up to me and sniggers.

That is when i get angry, irritated...how dare he ridicule me---he who is too blind to see this beautiful pattern!

It is only when i am held by the hand and taken back to where i once stood, that i manage to understand the truth of the situation.

It is only eons of reflective contemplation later, that i realise that viewing the picture from a distance always helps see a clearer image...the picture as it actually is...that perhaps the painting isn't as rosy afterall...

...and that probably it never was!!

Sometimes i forget to keep the distance--atleast until life in its own little weird way, reminds me of it..
and I guess im thankful.....for these careful reminders & timely realisations!!

cryptic thoughts #29

2011-05-26T19:40:00.003+10:00

In the book of life, we should all have chapters with unsure beginnings and strong endings...the former opens up scope for new possibilities and the latter, proves that it was worth all the 'growing up' in the process!

on KJO & love...

2011-05-24T15:52:00.012+10:00

somewhere in 1998...

"pyaar dosti hai...agar woh meri sabse acchi dost nahi ban sakti, toh main usse kabhi pyaar kar hi nahi sakta..kyunki dosti bina toh pyaar hota hi nahi"
("love is friendship..if she cannot be my best friend, i can never fall in love with her..because without friendship, love does not exist")

...and somewhere in 2006
coming from the same film maker and the same actor...

"kabhi kabhi dosti mohabbat ki jagah le leti hai aur phir mohabbat ke liye jagah hi nahi rehti"
("sometimes, friebdship takes the place of love and then there is no space left for love")

It makes me wonder what changed karan johars perspective on "LOVE" over this period of eight years...
i guess people mature with time.they learn..they change..they grow up...

i guess he did too...

all i have to say to him is that----
"itna waqt nahi le sakte" :)

-----------------------------------------------

so, which of the two do you believe in??

a not-so-regular update

2011-05-22T14:37:00.008+10:00

"Why do we have to listen to our hearts?” the boy asked, when they had made camp that day.

“Because, wherever your heart is, that is where you’ll find your treasure.”

“But my heart is agitated,” the boy said. “It has its dreams, it gets emotional, and it’s become passionate over a woman of the desert. It asks things of me, and it keeps me from sleeping many nights, when I’m thinking about her.”

“Well, that’s good. Your heart is alive. Keep listening to what it has to say.”

“My heart is a traitor,” the boy said to the alchemist, when they had paused to rest the horses. “It doesn’t want me to go on.”

“That makes sense. Naturally it’s afraid that, in pursuing your dream, you might lose everything you’ve won.”

“Well, then, why should I listen to my heart?”

“Because you will never again be able to keep it quiet. Even if you pretend not to have heard what it tells you, it will always be there inside you, repeating to you what you’re thinking about life and about the world.”

"You mean I should listen, even if it’s treasonous?”

“Treason is a blow that comes unexpectedly. If you know your heart well, it will never be able to do that to you. Because you’ll know its dreams and wishes, and will know how to deal with them.

“My heart is afraid that it will have to suffer,” the boy told the alchemist one night as they looked up at the moonless sky.

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with God and with eternity.”

“Every second of the search is an encounter with God,” the boy told his heart.

“Everyone on earth has a treasure that awaits him,” his heart said. “We, people’s hearts, seldom say much about those treasures, because people no longer want to go in search of them. We speak of them only to children. Later, we simply let life proceed, in its own direction, toward its own fate. But, unfortunately, very few follow the path laid out for them—the path to their destinies, and to happiness. Most people see the world as a threatening place, and, because they do, the world turns out indeed, to be threatening place.

“So, we, their hearts, speak more and more softly. We never stop speaking out, but we begin to hope that our words won’t be heard: we don’t want people to suffer because they don’t follow their hearts.”

"Why don't people's hearts tell them to continue to follow their dreams?" the boy asked the alchemist.

"Because that's what makes a heart suffer most, and hearts don't like to suffer."

From then on, the boy understood his heart. He asked it, please, never to stop speaking to him. He asked that, when he wandered far from his dreams, his heart press him and sound the alarm. The boy swore that, every time he heard the alarm, he would heed its message.

That night, he told all of this to the alchemist. And the alchemist understood that the boy's heart had returned to the Soul of the World.

"So, what should I do now?" the boy asked. Continue in the direction of the Pyramids," said the alchemist. "And continue to pay heed to the omens. Your heart is still capable of showing you where the treasure is."

The above excerpt is from 'The Alchemist'----one of my all time favorites.

Yesterday for a brief moment, i listened to the heart and ignored the mind.
Its a different thing altogether though that the mind was almost in a non-functional state at that time and my heart took full advantage of the situation and had its way.
Eighteen hours later, a drowsy semi conscious mind is typing in this post, still not totally aware of what has really happened.

and the heart waits patiently...a little nervous, wondering how long it will be before the mind goes into its usual 'i told you so' mode.

...keeping my fingers crossed...as life moves on...

flawed perfection

2011-05-09T01:08:00.008+10:00

I watched him as he lay out his mat & carefully placed all the porcelain dolls one after another.
They were dressed up in pretty floral dresses made of lace...sharp angulated features which gave them a clear distinguished look, a small plastic umbrella over their head---they were perfect!!
Exquisite marvels of a gifted sculptor.
I watched him as he carefully placed them row after row.

"aapne banaye hai?"
(you made these?) i asked..
He nodded, flashing me a proud smile.
I couldn't help admire his talent the precision with which he created those magical forms--all exactly the same, as if a thousand porcelain clones of the same 'flawless' gene.

The perfection seemed so equal...so undiscriminating..
Each told me a story...a story of precision..of accuracy...of flawlessness.
a story of how they were created with the same amount of time, concentration, attention and care.

I went upto the man selling them to take a closer look and asked him if he had anything different.
He apologised saying they were all the same--he did not know to make then any different.
"dus saal ho gaye madamji, yahi bana raha hoon..har saal aata hoon yahan inhe bechne..yahan jo sale lagta hai na, woh sahab khareedte hai wholesale mein"
(its been 10 years madamji, that im making these..the gentleman who conducts this sale here buys it from me wholesale), he said pointing to the tents, which were half ready for the upcoming event.

"kuch doosra try kyon nahi karte?"
(why dont you try something different?), i asked intrigued at his monotony.

"darta hoon madamji, agar galti ho gayi, toh saari mehnat bekaar chali jayegi..jawab dena padta hain sale wale saahab ko"
(im afraid madamji..if i make a mistake, all my efforts would go to waste..i am answerable to the gentleman conducting the sale)

and then he mumbled wistfully, "khuda thode na hoon, ke jo chaha, jaisa chaha bina soche samjhe banau aur koi poochne wala na ho"
(im not god..who creates without thinking as per his wishes and doesn't have to be answerable to anyone

Stumped by his almost incoherent mumblings, i stood there staring at those lovely images this man had created.
It was only when he proceeded to stand up that my eyes fell upon the pair of crutches that were lying under the mat, almost half hidden from view..asif shying away from the audience which adorned its 'superior' friends (the porcelain dolls lying atop the mat) with compliments.

The alarm on my face must have been evident for he looked up at me and smiled "polio" he said, "bhagwanji ne shayad galti kar li"
(polio...God, perhaps made a mistake)

It was asif life had suddenly turned a hazy blur as i stood there dumbfounded, not knowing what to say.
Here was a man who had mastered the art of creating perfection..and was so much in love with it that he was too afraid to try something else.
and then there is HIM who for some reason, not known to man, creates flaws in each one of us in some form or the other.

Is it because HE is answerable to no one?
or was he tired of the monotony and so created a few deliberate flaws in each of us, to see how we deal with it?
Would we value 'perfection' had it been monotonous?
Are our 'imperfections' just a test to measure our strength..just a challenge to test our courage?
and then again, who decides the intensity of the flaws and on what basis are they distributed?
Theory of 'randomness' or theory of 'rationalisation'---which one would you choose?

I left the spot with a weird kinda heaviness in my heart...a heaviness that told me, that soon enough, the memory of those perfect images would fade from my mind but the words of that flawless soul...those would remain with me forever!!!

cryptic thoughts #28

2011-05-06T11:50:00.002+10:00

There is this funny thing about 'change'----where not needed, it feels inevitable...and where needed, it seems impossible!!!

choices

2011-05-03T14:15:00.011+10:00

Lets change the record...
Lets dance to the music...
We are not the same anymore...

Every choice we make, every decision we take makes us little more of a new person---someone we were perhaps, always meant to be.

Lets open the curtains...
Lets greet the morning sun...
The moving van is outside the door...

It has been waiting since a long time--We ought not to cause it delay anymore.

Lets pick up these boxes...
Lets bid the memories goodbye...
its time to leave for separate worlds...

The road long taken, is better not looked back upon---it was just another milestone we crossed.

...and more often than not, we hardly define our 'choices'...rather, its our choices that define 'us' instead!!! :)

once again!!

2011-04-30T23:14:00.013+10:00

Like every morning, i open my eyes,
wishing perhaps you'd think of me...
maybe you'd try to break the silence,
the one that has crept between us...
i search my cell for a text from you
scan the missed call list with bated breath...
hoping that perhaps the nightmare has ended,
and you would think of me, once again!!

as time flies by, the day goes on,
but in my mind, a thought lingers,
that perhaps you'd call to speak to me...
one more check of the missed call list,
i see unopened messages and unanswered calls,
as i check frantically who they are from,
my eyes search for that one familiar number
which seems to be intact in my rusted mind...
hoping perhaps the search would end,
and you would think of me, once again!!

evening comes and no call from you...
not a single text nor mail...
the silence prevails, no words exchanged...
a smile plays on my face as i think of you...
you who i haven't heard from in ages...
you who couldn't care less of me...
you who i still hope to hear from, once again!!

i set the 'snooze' and close my eyes...
in the hope of a new beginning...
a new morning wherein i'd wake up,
stretch my arms and greet the sun,
reach for my cell as part of routine,
and
perhaps just perhaps,
i'd find your text waiting for me...
and everything would be perfect, once again!!

of locked doors & lessons they teach...

2011-04-28T03:31:00.001+10:00

Very often in life, you are so busy banging on closed doors, for someone to hear you and let you out, that you sometimes tend to forget the fact that the door is locked from the inside and not from the outside.

People passing by would hear your voice..some would realise what you are doing, snigger at your foolishness and walk away with a joke to recite to their peers.

Then there are those who would watch you from the window & wait till you come up with a solution, a realisation, all by yourself, paying a deaf ear to your cries.
These are the shrewd ones...the selfish ones who want to learn from you, who would wait and watch so that they have a solution, tailor made for themselves--if they are to ever get caught in a similar situation.

Well, ofcourse there would be some who would emphatise with your plight, try attempting to open the locked door, not realising that it opens only inwards (yea, they are too busy feeling your pain to notice, just like you).
but it wont be too long before they too walk away feeling frustrated at their failure to help.

So in the end, its all a waste.
In the end, you would have to deal with it yourself.

So stop being the joke for those who wont stop for you.
Stop expecting help from those at the window.
Stop hoping that those pushing the door from outside would be patient & strong enough to break it down..

Start searching for your own answers---the one's hiding deep within you.
Confront your own insecurities----the one's you have always known and feared.
Accept your own limitations---the one's which you have always tried to ignore.

and last but not the least, gather all your courage and put up a brave fight!!

...because some locked doors open only from the inside...

cryptic thoughts #27

2011-04-25T23:59:00.003+10:00

Sometimes in life, seeing what you believe makes much better sense than believing what you see...
but however much we try & cling to the delusion/assumption/belief or whatever we might like to call it, the truth remains...strong, victorious and right in the face!

Facts will always remain facts!!

the bridge across forever

2011-04-19T03:09:00.010+10:00

They say its a small world and people when part, tend to meet each other again, at some point or the other...

I disagree---the world is a limitless expanse and if you actually intend to stay away from someone, its very certain that your paths will never cross.

Memories are an entirely different issue though.

You close the door to your mind..afraid that someone who once mattered, might just enter without permission, yet again.
You play a different record--the music of your life--one which is very distracting..
You turn the volume on loud--block out all your thoughts--perhaps in a futile attempt to drown the pain you are running away from.

and yet, some memory from long ago seeps through some dark crevice of the mind, sweeping you away in a different world---where time stands still.

...a world, where paths cross and decisions shatter!!

suspicious minds

2011-04-17T14:46:00.022+10:00

you ask me who im speaking to,
who im meeting with & when,
who gifted those flowers on my way home,
what made me stay till ten...

you ask me who dropped me off,
as i walk in through the door,
why there was laughter in my voice,
when you called me up at four...

you ask me where im going,
and when im coming back...
every single detail,
as if to keep a track...

you check my texts and call logs,
and you think i don't know this...
i wonder what our love has lacked,
for the trust to go amiss...

why is there so much conflict?
why are you so filled with doubt?
where's the love you claimed would stay?
why then are we falling out?

i guess its more than crystal clear,
we cannot go on, this way...
no future on weak foundation stands,
lets burn this bridge today...

but before we go our separate ways,
a few answers on my part...
hoping it'd make some sense to reason,
with the doubts that crossed your heart...

those were roses for our anniversary,
which i'd stayed so late to plan...
the friend who dropped me home that day,
has always been your fan...

your questions i did not answer,
there was nothing left to say...
those empty hollow accusations,
killed me slow each day...

you ask me to stay and talk now,
a solution you hope we can find...
but would there really be a cure,
for as strong a suspicious mind??

writer's note----the above piece is partly inspired from the famous 'Elvis Presley' song and ofcourse mainly from, my favorite muse----life!! :)

straw'worries' & cham'pain'!!

2011-04-11T17:14:00.022+10:00

clink your glass, shake a leg,
then ask for another peg...
drown yourself into the mood,
dig deep into the wine & food...

tonight is just for all to see,
so near and yet so far from me...
the party ends and silence creeps,
we stay awake as the whole world sleeps...

reminiscing of the love long gone,
thinking of our future forlorn...
wine on breath, tear brimmed eyes,
counting time and hollow sighs...

tomorrow is another day,
another dance, another sway...
fooling the world is just a game,
we gotta play for the prize & fame...

together we two strangers are,
so near and still so far...
each living a separate life,
yet to the world, as man and wife!!

its quite ironical, really!!

2011-04-10T15:44:00.011+10:00

I have often often wondered what it is that makes some people give in to the temptation of narcotics.
Ive heard/seen them say that the drug gives them a strange sorta high---apparently, the rush which is experienced, feels liberating and the exhilarating feeling makes them see the world as a happy place!! (or so they say)

The sad truth here, is that often, these addicts are too delirious to ignore the fact that the drug is slowly killing them.The momentary pleasure they experience from those needle pricks makes them forget all about the misery that might lie ahead.

and that gets me thinking...
what about those people who have poison thrust upon them---not by choice but by a cruel joke played by destiny or perhaps...genetics??
those who cannot ignore the fact that there is poison already flowing in their system, the type that cannot be cleansed even by a hundred pricks..only controlled?
those who are reminded of this destiny-chosen-self-inflicted-pain every single minute of their lives, by the guilt of some half explained void?

Contrary to the self chosen narcotic induced euphoria, this type of undefeatable anguish is something which sucks out every ounce of joy there is or could be..
Trivial matters seem out of reach.
Simple dreams seem unattainable.
and life seems impossible to understand...

Health is something that is often abused by those who are lucky enough to be able to afford taking it for granted.
and then there those...the cursed ones...the ones with poison in their veins..

the difference is that, with every prick of the needle, the former gives in to this so-called 'happiness' and the latter, gives up on it!!

that one day!!

2011-04-08T13:12:00.005+10:00

june 5th 2009:
Ajay was coming to india after 8 years now.and yet it seemed like decades.
The United States of America had almost succeeded in detaching him from his very own country..the country which was home and yet dint feel like it.
The only reason for his visit to india was now reduced to his mom, who despite of much convincing refused to come to the US with him............................and her!

"oyeee phirrrrrrrannnng..." he could still hear her voice booming in his ears.he looked around, his eyes still searching for her hoping she'd emerge somewhere from the crowd, like she always did.
but today, there was no one at the airport..or rather there was no one who mattered.
signaling to the man in the white uniform with the placard bearing his name on it, he got into the coolcab.
"shivaji park" he mumbled to the cab driver as his mind raced back to how she used to always bargain with the cabbie everytime, how she would think that all they wanted was to loot them of their money after they got to know that he was 'foreign return' and how they would almost always end up having the better part of the deal with the cab guy agreeing to every word she said outta sheer frustration.
he smiled to himself--she had always been great at arguments. she always won the ones with him, leaving him speechless most of the times.
sometimes he won, but that was only because she was in the mood to let him.

the driver noticed him smiling and asked "kisi ki yaad aa rahi hain saabji?"
he had always been amazed by the casual frankness taxi drivers seemed to show..he was a man of a few words--someone who would come across to many as 'arrogant'..and yet!
he mumbled something which seemed like a "aage dekhkar chalao" and the driver who seemed to get a hint that he might just lose his tip if he tries and get friendly, shut up for the rest of the drive.

"any news from her, ma?" was the first question he asked when he reached home.
it had almost been customary now..that was the first question he had been asking his mom since the last 8 years now, every single time, be it on phone or email.
the answer was always the same---"nothing"

"beta, isnt it time that you settled down in life.even i have dreams of playing with my grandchildren and you know that anjali...." her voice trailed off as she realised that anuj was still not ready to give marriage a thought.
"mom, i know....i promise to speak to anjali when she calls.you know her dont u? she is just angry.please all im asking is for a little patience from your side."

anjali never broke promises.She had said she would return.she had told him not to give up on her.and he had promised her he would not.
--------------------------------------------------------------
may 17th 2001:
"i have to go anju"
"but you know i cant live without you..cant i come?? cant you think of some way, phirang..please"
"i wish you could.but its your visa issues that need to be sorted first.but dont worry.once that is done, we are just one plane ride away"
"couldn't we have gotten married? that way i could come with you now isn't it?"
"yes dear.but you know this was so short a notice.and marriage is a lifetime commitment.dont you want us to celebrate our commitment in style rather than make it a reason for some petty visa issue?"
she knew he was right.but she couldn't help wishing she could go with him right then.
"cmon anju.this will just take a few days and before you know it you will be there with me..cmon arnt you going to give your phirang a smile now?"
and she would smile.he always made her smile when he said that-more because she knew how much he hated her calling him that.
it was true that ajay always wanted to go settle in the US but calling him a 'phirang' was unacceptable..his loyalties still lied with his motherland, afterall.
In fact that was one major reason he wanted to get married when in india..although they had been engaged for 8 months now, he never was an ardent follower of traditions anyway.

"ok happy journey and see you soon, phirang" she managed a misty eyed grin as he got up from his seat and headed towards the security checking.
"that's the spirit, my crazy girl" he said hugging her tight as they bid each other goodbye.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
6th september 2001:
my dear phirang,
im reaching on the 12th 5.00pm US timing.i tried to contact you on your cell.but you dint answer.i guess it is because you are angry that i cant make it on time for our engagement anniversary.
but im reaching just three days late sweetheart.we can celebrate it when i reach there..i promise to make it up to you.
had it not been for the urgent meeting, i would reach there right on time.
neverthless i am still trying.but boss man seems in no mood to celebrate any engagement anniversaries nor let anyone celebrate them.

May his hair wig fall off at the next board meeting..hmpf!!

your and only yours,
anju

P.S: you have not been answering my calls since the last 2 days now.and i am very very sad because i cant hear my phirang's sexy voice :(

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
8th sept 2001

my dear phirang,

Is everything alright?? are you so angry with me that you wont even answer my call?
i tried around a zillion times..
First you did not answer and now your cell phone is switched off.Rohit told me you are busy in a 3 day long meeting.
please find the time & call me.
My tickets are confirmed..at last!!
I cant wait to be in your arms..miss you terribly :(

I visited mom today..she told me to take your favorite jam along.
sorry i ate half already..heehee

just two more days and im THERE!!

love you,
yours & only yours
anju

P.S---CALL MEEEEE :(
----------------------------------------------------------------
10th sept 2001

Mr murphy loves me..i missed out on your call.was talking to your mom.somehow the half eaten jam bottle was discovered and i was trying hard to come up with a good excuse.
You might feel happy to know that i am a laughing stock of your family now..officially!! :-|

please do check the voice messags i have left for you..leaving for the airport.
perhaps some strong power up there wants us to meet straight in Manhattan.the sweet pain of separation is overrated i tell you..anything but sweet.

i cant wait to smother you with kisses.
love you my dear phirang

XOXO
yours & only yours,
anju

----------------------------------------------------------------------
That had been her last email to him..
11th sept 2001..no news from anju.
instead all that reached was the news of the 9/11 attack--an airplane had crashed into the world trade center and toppled over the twin towers killing thousands of innocent people.
The plane had reduced into flames and news reports said that there were no survivors.

Ajay kept listening to the voice on his answering machine over and over again
"u haven't called me, phirang..itne busy ho ki apni anju ke liye time nahi?
I have emailed you a hundred times."
"am in the plane now.18 hours and reachinggggggg.i love you, phirang"

He kept replaying the messages over and over again, hoping there would be some clue that her flight had been delayed..perhaps she had reached the airport late & had missed that flight..perhaps she had felt bad for some passenger losing his ticket & had exchanged hers for a later flight..perhaps she had lost her boarding pass while in the restroom & had missed the flight.

perhaps....perhaps....afterall that did happen in movies didn't it?

he hoped against hope for any of the above possibilities to have happened..he kept trying to reach her cell phone & every time he heard the 'switched off' message, his heart sank a little more.

Just then his phone rang.

it was her mom.she was crying hysterically.
& then it was all a blur...

"aunty, i need to hang up..anju will be calling any minute now..and this time she wont spare me if i don't answer" he hurriedly clicked off the call..

----------------------------------------------------------------
since then, he had been waiting...

since then, he had never failed to answer any call, no matter how caught up he was...

since then, he had buried a deep part of his life in his work, memories with anju...
anju who still lived with him...anju who was just angry for he hadn't answered his calls...anju who would never leave his side...
anju who he would meet someday soon...
anju who never broke promises...

His mom left the room, brushing off a tear from her cheek.

ajay closed his eyes and played the recorded voice message once again.

"i love you, phirang" her soothing voice swept him into a distant land of dreams, just like always.

...and life continued...

"the story from my side"---a guest post from THE DI!!

2011-04-06T20:25:00.004+10:00

My dearest pri,
I had really waited for you a long long time and when they finally announced your arrival,I just couldn't contain my excitement as I hurriedly dressed that morning to go and see you.
That would be our first introduction and I guess I was anxious in a way to see how it would turn out!

I Remember
how I hated being an only child for so long and how thrilled I was that it was about to change...
how I zoomed through all the motions of dressing up which I would otherwise go through so lifelessly, every morning...
how my hands fumbled with my shoelaces as I struggled to tie them having recently learnt to do so after much coaxing from mom who had told me time and again that now I had to be the responsible older sister...
how I desperately prayed to God for a sister,even bribed him by promising to say my prayers every night, much to the disappointment of my grandparents who were perhaps silently hoping for a grandson...
how I rushed that day in the light rain without bothering to even wear my raincoat...
how I raced to the cradle to see the most perfect,the most beautiful,the most cuddly bundle of joy with soft curls of her hair tumbling down her forehead...
how I was surprised to see you curiously staring at me with huge baby eyes, wide awake at six early morning...
how you surprised me even further by loosely wrapping your little fingers around mine when I extended my hand to you...
how at that moment I felt so happy to be around you that all I ever wanted to do was just stare back at you and never go to school again...

I Remember
how you used to get all distracted with the most uninteresting things when I would desperately try to focus your attention on some flashy multicoloured toy instead...
how your eyes opened wide with wonder and delight when I gave you your first taste of Cadburys Chocolate, when you were barely a month old...
how you would spit out the carrot juice which I took great pleasure in feeding you...
& how you never wanted me to feed you again after that :P

I Remember
how you innocently went in the docs room for your first injection shot not knowing what was in store...
how you bawled your heart out when you realised your trust had been betrayed...
how you soon forgot about it and was fascinated by your new shoes...
how you called me Di when you learnt your first few words...
how you listened intently when I put the music on.

I Remember
how you waited patiently for me to return from school and yell out my name as soon as you spotted me...
how you used to be by my side, observing quietly as I completed my homework...
how you asked for sheets of paper to scribble by my side as I studied for my exams...
how you didn't cry one bit on your first day at school coz I'd told you it was shameful to do so...
how you developed an intense distaste for milk after you saw me hating it...
how you used to be fascinated by balloons and asked for one every time the balloon man passed by...
how I used to cheat and win at 'snakes and ladders' until you learned to count correctly and then beat me at every game...
how we played Scrabble,ludo and just left it midway sometimes.Call it whimsical!!

I Remember
how you hated putting your feet in sand whenever we went to the seashore...
how we fought one day over who gets to sit in my favourite chair which had suddenly turned into your favourite too.
how we both lost interest in it minutes after the fight was over...
how you believed in tooth fairies and we had to secretly get you a gift for each fallen tooth...
how thrilled I was when you bagged the trophy after representing the school in elocution contests...
how we played antakshari and you knew the lyrics to every song...
how you sang 'Waqt Ne Kiya Kya Haseen Sitam....' for a singing competition at school and came home to proudly announce that you didn't win the prize.
how we used to watch hours of TV together...
how you used to be interested in watching all the serials I was interested in...
how you made fancy cards for me on my birthday and waited till midnight to wish me...

I Remember
how thrilled I was when your first poem was published by a leading publishing house in India when you were 12...
how you always topped in academics and scraped through PT :p
how I shared the jitters when your board results were declared...
how I danced with joy when you bagged a state rank...

I Remember
how you once tried to wear my white coat to see how it feels...
how I took it away from you then and remarked famously that you would have to earn it to wear it...
the day you got into Medical School...
the day you became a doctor and told me that you had earned your own white coat...

and today,
you still have an opinion on everything...
the sight of chocolates still brings out the child in you...
your eyes still crinkle up and disappear when you are really happy and thrilled...
you still take my side even when the whole world is on the other.
you still fight one moment and then come knocking sheepishly at my door...

and how you express yourself so beautifully with words that nothing I write could ever do justice to the wonderful soul you really are!!
I need not write more coz your blog and fan following are testimony enough.
All I can say is that I am one hell of a proud sister!!

and today,
as i continue this journey with you, I cherish all these memories and look forward to making more.

Its true that sisters are a little bit of childhood that can never be lost and I can never thank God enough for choosing to answer my prayers on that rainy day.

yours,
DI

a fairytale moment---"we danced"

2011-03-31T16:27:00.002+11:00

lose yourself to the magic of ~~love~~ music...

cheers!! ;)

cryptic thoughts #28

2011-03-30T05:04:00.002+11:00

Getting what you 'think' you want, might not always be such a great thing..fulfilled dreams usually come with a lot of strings attached!!

of colossal lies & modest goodbyes...

2011-03-29T04:53:00.005+11:00

lies--it was funny how he would keep holding on to them.
sometimes she would wonder if he had forgotten what she had told him right at the beginning...
that all she wanted was the truth...that all she expected from him was to never lie to her...
that betrayal of trust was the only thing that could shatter her completely and break her off from him forever.

He knew how much she hated lies and yet, there was something which made him hang on to them.

Chances---chances are all she had kept offering.
Every lie he spoke, she smiled to herself with a tinge of sadness in her heart..'
Sometimes it made her wonder if he could be challenging her intelligence--because soon he even stopped weaving them well.
They had become more of a casual yarn thrown in her face, loose at ends, torn at the seams.
and that had made her wonder what kinda fool he must be thinking her to be---a fool in love?

At times, she was afraid that she would get used to this game he was playing..this game of make believe.
She was afraid of getting so used to these lies--she feared that perhapss she wouldn't know how to handle the truth when it came from him..
"and frankly is it not a lie in turn when i pretend not to see through them?" she would ask herself time and again.
It was this truth that would often keep her awake at night, staring at the ceiling wondering where exactly they had reached..
Why was she accepting something she hated so much---just because it was now a part of him--the man she loved?

She would often reason with herself in futility that these were small little things that she was overreacting about--maybe betrayal was too huge a word for these little white lies that he kept coming up with..
but the fact that this might have been just the beginning of the ugly end would gnaw at her mind and manage to steal whatever little peace remaining..

He probably realised the pain in her eyes every time she asked him for explanations..
but what he never realised was that every time he thought she believed him, it was actually just another chance to make things right.
A chance to start over new...
A chance not taken--as he continued to defend himself with another lie that she managed to see right through and yet pretended not to---just like always.

"Why??!!" she often asked herself..
because she did not have the heart to ask him this.

"You think i believe you.have blind faith in you..well, i did...not so long ago!!" she mumbled to herself as she felt a sense of numbness sweep over her.

She was tired now..tired of playing the fool hoping that someday he would feel guilty and come up with the truth.
that someday he would fall out of love with this game of deception that she had decided to let him play, thinking he would outgrow it on his own someday..

...that someday, he would realise she knew...always knew!!

looney tunes

2011-03-26T16:16:00.005+11:00

I, pri, in my lifetime so far, have had the oppurtunity to talk to many a lunatics---some institutionalised (just in case you are wondering, they weren't my inmates.In my defense, i must tell you that i have worked as a resident doctor in a psychiatry institute and hence the experience) and some who were not (the world is no less than an asylum, innit?)

Anyhow, coming to the point of the post, here is an excerpt from an online conversation i recently had with one such non-institutionalised ~~lunatic~~ friend.
Please note---In case i dont live to see the light of day after this, please know that it was a MURDER!! *looks around nervously*
---------------------------------------------------
(me logs in)
me: YO!!!!!!
friend: whoaa!! you scared me
me: tht's nothing
i can rotate my head 360 degrees as well
haven't you seen me in 'the exorcist'?
friend: dat ws YOU??
9:24 AM
me: u dint know??!!!!!!!
:o
friend: damn! i should have..you looked so natural!
me: huh? whatever do you mean by 'looked'? i WAS NATURAL!
it was a 'no makeup thingy'
9:25 AM
friend: you dont need rear-views in ur car den
me: who said i have them?
you arn't the only genius around, you know...i got there first!! *does a quick victory dance*
9:26 AM
me: infact i dont even need a car most of the time...its only those days when i dont feel like flying..otherwise the broom usually manages that.
friend: on ur broomstck?
me: duh!
wasn't tht obvious?
friend: ya ya
9:27 AM
friend: so you go out on nites den?
me: hellooo...i need my beauty sleep u know
or how else am i supposed to manage such killer looks
i fly during THE DAY!!
friend: hmmmm..
9:28 AM
friend: u must be giving d poor birds a heart attack
me: nawww...the pet vultures manage all the small stuff
im IMPORTANT!
9:29 AM
friend: n they must be the ones bringin u your supper
me: well, i usually pick on dumb humans and chew off their brains on gtalk
friend: or do u prefer human food??
me: ohh wait, correction --dumb humans who are too excited to even read wht is typed
friend: got it got it
me: phew...finally!!!
9:30 AM
friend: u dint like my brains?
they still r thre
they taste awful dont they
me: they are??
man!! seems like i missed them ...for nothing!
i should use my microscope next time
friend: oh yes
what ws i thnking?
me: ok ok enuf of crazy talk..im bored!
:-/
friend: phew
u r bored of battering me down?
thngs have chnged
me: did i do that? when? how? why?
friend: hmmm
thngs reallly have chnged
9:32 AM
me: hmmm...really? i dont like changes
unless they are pleasant ones ofcourse
but you know uncle murphy, always howering around making sure they most often never are...so there!
neverthless, you got any pleasant changes for me?
9:33 AM
friend: yes, am back online
me: *all eager waiting with bated breath*
friend: dats a change
me: i repeat
u got any pleasant changes for me?
and stop trying to change the topic like that
:-/
friend: mmm... nope
9:34 AM
me: yea...shud have known
BORRIINNGG!!
:-/
i think i shud buy a vacuum cleaner..im getting bored of flying on the broomstick
hmmmm
9:35 AM
friend: I HAVE NO IDEA AT ALL !
me: that way i could fly faster and disappear to haunt interesting humans instead.
what say?
and DONT U DARE YELl AT ME!
friend: never tried...have been walking since the day i was born
me: *yawn*..nvm!
i gottago..im sleepy.
friend: ok.hope i dont see u again.
me: HAH!! as if your hopes have ever been fulfilled.
over and out!! :D
friend: over and out!!
------------------------------------------------------------------
(me logs out)
(friend logs out)
-------------------------------------------------------
Frankly i share this kind of comfort level with only a very few friends.
these are the kind of friends, you know you can talk to even on the toughest days without the fear of hurting them with the hatred you have developed for the world.
these are the kind if friends that can make your troubles seem light even without actually knowing any details, who do not mind being your punching bag at times, because they know you would do the same for them..
they understand you, irritate you, irk you, pester you and love you all the same.
they are not the prim & proper agony aunts (read 'shrink') who make you lie on the couch and offer advice in 30 mins sessions..not at all!!
rather they are more of the "shaddup and get over it" types, who try to distract you off your woes by telling you how silly you look crying.

So sharp is their sarcasm and mock hatred towards you, that you forget what you are sulking about and get engaged in their cynical battle of wits, instead.

While most people are just too normal to tolerate my twisted sense of humour, (their loss i say), these necessary evils, are the few blessed souls who share my insanity and respect it and im thankful to life for them *makes a straight face*

To sum it all--no cliched sentiments...no pleasantries..no candyfloss conversations.
and yet i cant help but say---"tu hain toh il'l be alright" :)

Im honoured that blogjunta.com has selected my post as their editors choice..thankyou!!

deja vu, maybe!!

2011-03-25T15:52:00.018+11:00

a different place...

unfamiliar paths...

unknown people....

and yet, something feels like home..very much like home!!

Perhaps i have been here before, in my dreams...perhaps...

crossed these same roads...

smiled at these same faces...

stopped at the same halts...

and yet, those broken pieces win clear over this flaw'less' reality!!

Everything is exactly the same...except...

once upon a time...

2011-03-24T14:36:00.013+11:00

"We've gone our own ways and I know its for the best, but sometimes I wonder will I ever have a friend like you again?"

A long time ago, i had written a post for someone---honest to the core and true to the T.
This someone was and ~~hopefully~~ still is, a very good friend..one who does not read 'nostalgic moments' much nowadays though.
So anyhow, as i was saying, the post i had written was and will always remain one very close to my heart.
I had preferred not disclosing any name there but every single line of that post was inspired by him, on how much i valued his friendship.
Much to my surprise, i received an sms that very same evening asking me point blank if it was him that i was talking of, in the article.

Its weird isn't it how we take so much care to wrap up things in loads of coloured paper and how it is always exactly that someone whom we are hiding it from, that comes and sees right through it?
It is somewhat like you are trying to conceal a zit with loads of makeup on your face and someone who you least want to notice it, walks right up to you and casually points it out asking "heyy is that a pimple?"

I remember how flustered it had got me.
Clueless how to react, i'd wondered on whether i should reply or not.
not replying would just confirm his doubt and the idiot would realise how much our friendship meant to me.
so as usual i'd laughed it away with dry humour telling him he was not that important.
Conversations were a daily part of our life back then--a routine..and the post was pretty much about the same.
Infact, thinking of it, i do not even recall what it was that had made me lie.
Was it the embarrassment of writing about a friendship which i feared might have been much too random to him than to me?
or was it the fear of complicating things and creating hurtful misunderstandings due to what might have been a few carelessly thrown unintentional literary exaggerations?

What was it that had made me hide behind that cover of undisclosed writing which for the first time, i wasn't prepared to take responsibility of explaining?

Today, i stumbled upon that post again---looking at me as if with a sense of betrayal, and got transported back to those times.
Today, life is no longer the same.We hardly catch up on friendly banter nowadays.
We are much too caught up with our own lives, fighting our own battles.
I though, sometimes still search for the reason i ran away from confronting his question that day.
and even today, i find myself with no answer.

All i know is that there is still that something which keeps me away from pressing the 'send' option on my cellphone screen.

...and the text gets saved in my draft folder yet again "that post i had written--it was you i was talking about :)"

As life goes on, some friendships fade for no ~~apparent~~ reason!!