stance

Me and my magic wand!

2012-01-06T21:38:00.000-08:00

“I don’t know where to start from”… Boom… “Here, Let us start this one for you”

“I don’t know how to reach out to people to promote my dance classes”… Boom… “Don’t you worry; it’s been taken care of”

“Brrrr I am cold”… Boom… “A warm hug for you”

“That is such a pretty costume”… Boom…. “You can have it”

Sounds like a fairy tale? Well, it is. Only difference being, the girl in this story is not a pretty, fragile, porcelain skinned, tall, thin, red headed Barbie; but it’s just a simple, pretty Indian girl ;) and That’ll be me ;)

This fairy tale is about me and my magic wand. When I refused to stand in the long queue outside God’s door for our wishes to be granted, God himself came out and asked me what I wished for. No, he didn’t walk to me because I was the noisiest little kid, but because I am God’s favorite child. It has nothing to do with the fact that devotees standing close to me were born deaf.

That’s when I asked God for his Magic wand. Now, he couldn’t give me the one he carries himself as that would create riots on mother earth (He’s smarter than we think ;), so he instead gave me a bunch of friends. Friends, who not only accepted me in their very happy families, but guided me through every walk, supported me when I needed the most, celebrated with me, shared sorrows, loved me, pampered me, and most of all, helped me set myself up in a completely new country.

This post is dedicated to MY magical Friends in Ottawa (Tracey, Erika, Katherine and Catherine).

Like every normal individual, I was scared and anxious when I first landed in Canada. Didn’t know a single soul around (except for my anti-social husband), didn’t know how and where to start from, didn’t know how it worked here, the cultural difference, accent difference (not mine, but theirs’ ;)) and above all to cope up with the freezing winters. I got connected and finally met with this lovely bunch of ladies on a cool Thursday night. They were friendly, they laughed, and they passed on their warmth with a huge group hug.

I remember, Ashish and I celebrating immediately after our meeting, (even though it was -30 and wasn’t gonna get any better). I was so happy after meeting them, that I called my folks in India at 3 in the night and told them that I’ve found my magic wand  Ever since that day, everything seems to fall in place.

Be it working towards my dream of starting my own dance classes; to finding a perfect job for myself; to adjusting to the culture; to going out of their way promoting me; to designing my website; to help me house hunt; to introducing me to Cherpumple; and to accept me as a part of their lives; these gems have made me teary and overwhelmed with love at every instance. Sometimes, they would surprise me with a congratulations card and celebrations on getting my new job; or sometimes leave me stunned and shocked with a surprise B’day party; or sometimes leave me astonished with unexpected gifts, or just surprise me with a facilitation in front of the entire auditorium.

Over the last one year, we have had endless laughs, parties, camping, gatherings, celebrations, dressing up, dances, dances and more dances. And god willing, there’ll be many more to come.

Not everyone is lucky enough to get such loving friends everywhere. I guess I am the CHOSEN ONE :)

Our Seating Arrangement has changed

2011-12-07T17:41:00.000-08:00

I am no behavioral psychologist, so please take whatever I say in this post with a pinch of salt. You will be happy to know that what I am going to tell you always happen around a dining table in a restaurant – so salt will be at arm’s length.
Yes, seating arrangement in relationships change with time. My research in this area is spread over at least ten years (acknowledgments: close friends/ relatives, movies, books, World Wide Web and personal experience)
During this research, I am not taking into account the behavior of my mom and dad because back then eating in restaurants was a sin. Don`t believe me? Try ordering food from outside when your mother is visiting you. When I did, she asked me: “Why, the stove isn’t working?” The first time ever my dad took us all out for dinner was 18 years after I was born. And he is so proud of this fact that he announces it to the world ;)
Anyway, the conclusion of my research is as follows:
There are 5 different positions that a couple goes through in their life time (until they are blessed with kids and their lifetime comes to a halt). They are as follows:

This is the initial stage when the couple is just getting to know each other. During this time, they both are at their best behavior. They have thoroughly read books on table etiquettes, have notes prepared on topics to talk about, and are now all prepared to impress each other. At this phase, the gentleman takes charge, right from spotting the waiter to paying the bill (but an exception is considered when the gentleman is visiting India and does not have Indian currency in his pocket ;) The lady sits directly opposite to him. That way, a sneak peek into your “impromptu discussion topics” isn’t risky. At this stage, everything looks rosy. Everything he says somehow cracks you up. In fact this one time, I laugh so hard, that I almost pissed in my pants, but instead of being embarrassed, I kept on laughing. At this stage, you are thinking, “This guy is so funny. If I marry him, I’ll end up laughing all the time”. You don’t want the date to come to an end, and you stretch it out to the maximum. It usually ends with the guy saying, “Maybe, next time we should go to a better place” (Girls, be warned… the man is pitching for the next outing already)

By the time a couple reaches this stage, both have sworn loyalty to each other till death does them apart. Notice that the man still prefers to call the waiter and is willing to foot the bill (whether or not he has the currency ;). In this stage, the couple prefers to sit next to each other. The occasional brush of the legs and arms are cherished, and spoken about during late night phone calls in references like: “Remember that time when your shoe brushed against my shoe…that was heavenly.” This position also helps the couple get the same view, and thus help them make fun of other customers and have a hearty laugh. And when he says, “You look amazing, have you lost weight”, it’s a motivator at another level. At this time, the girl is thinking, “what could I have possibly done, to deserve a guy like him?”

By the time the couple reaches this stage, they know each other well but are still craving for more. Notice that the man still sits closer to the approaching waiter and thus is in command – he orders and he pays (again, considering the exception). In this stage, the chairs are pulled closer and the shoulders are almost touching. Since, in this stage the touching of shoulders is enough to send across an electric current… every trip to a restaurant is a shocking experience. By this time, you can’t wait to get married. Every couple at this stage is discussing their wedding plans and fantasizing about their future. Though in our case, we didn’t have to put in much effort into that, I had it all planned ever since I was 6, and I had my babies names picked out when I was 10.

Every restaurant seems great in this stage. The ambiance doesn`t matter…the food doesn`t matter. The couple believes that if they are together, they don`t need anything else. Notice the strange seating arrangement in this stage – which allows them to whisper into each other`s ears and yet allows them to gaze into each other`s eyes while they wait for the food. Somehow, time seems to fly, and you are thinking, “I hope the waiter takes longer to serve”. The only difference being, it’s not considered weird for the lady to pay bills now. Note for those that are not married: More often than not, the bank accounts merge after marriage.

This is the stage when the couple has realized that they won`t die if they stop touching the other partner. The lady now sits opposite to the man. Nothings sweet is whispered into each other’s ears …and neither a brush of the shoes send you shiver. An occasional “Sorry!” is heard, when their feet touch under the table. Some of the statements heard are: “Next time, remember not to bring me to this restaurant” & “These guys take so long to serve…why don`t they realize we come here to eat and not talk!”. It is the worst when you see other engaged couples in the restaurant, so much in love, and you just want to let them know that enjoy it while it lasts.

I am yet to discover other phases, but which stage do you relate to?

Facebook Rules!

2011-10-06T03:59:00.000-07:00

After spending nearly 3/4th of my day on facebook (henceforth referred to as FB), checking on my close friends status updates, browsing through “not-so-close” friends profiles, learning more about “acquaintances” and spying upon my enemies, I (like everybody else) am hereby going to criticize about how our social life is merely limited to poking, liking, tagging and at the most inviting friends to play games ONLINE!

I personally, am a huge FB fan. It not only connected me to my oldest friend who I didn’t even know existed, but also helps me keep a tag on who’s gaining weight faster than I am! But what bugs me the most is, when this younger generation ( i.e. only a couple years younger than me) would start using acronyms all over FB (You are my BFBFF), which makes it difficult for REGULAR people, who then have to rely on Google to make some sense out of it (I’m not talking about me here. I’m pretty smart!). But once you know it, it’s kinda addictive (See what I did there ;)). For those, not so smart people who want to Google BFBFF now, I’m making your life easier. It stands for Best Facebook Friend Forever :)

Everybody seems to be using FB lingo these days. A colleague walked upto me to tell me that I am not his “Friend”. Can you imagine the plight of a pretty, humble, self obsessed and highly social young girl like me, on hearing this? I was almost going to update my status to “I am shattered” when he made it clear that he was talking about being my FBF (Facebook Friend). I was happy again and posted a smiley on my status, just like this one --> :)

Also, I don’t understand the deal with “like” button. Why does FB bother to give the option of “liking” my own comment? Of course I like my own comments. I am awesome. But some people merely use “like’ button to mark their presence and yet avoid making smart comments. They are usually the ones who “like” to sit back and watch rather than participate. Similar is the concept of “poking”. You want your friends to know that you’re thinking of them, yet don’t want to make an effort of saying it. So “poke” around.

A friends Status said “My friend updated on fb that he was standing on the edge of a cliff… so I poked him” :)

And what’s with the relationship status updates? No one seems to take it seriously. One moment people are in a relationship and the other moment they are single. C’mon guys, some of our parents are on FB too. We have to explain it on your behalf. It must be a joke for some, but for some it’s a serious affair. Like when Mrs Bin Laden updated her FB status to single ;)

But it’s not really our fault. It’s the social media which is taking over. Talk about Youtube? It seems to have EVERYTHING you need. Sometimes I have to tell my dance students to dance like no one is going to put it on Youtube :)

I want to merge MySpace, Facebook, YouTube, and Twitter and call it: MY FACE YOU TWIT. (joke courtesy: someone smart)

Now, I’ll sign off at this juncture and update my fb status to “Blog Updated”. Meanwhile, you try to figure out this one “Hello everyone. Look at your status, now back to mine, now back to yours, now back to mine. Sadly, yours isn’t mine. But if you stopped posting about other things and made this your status, yours could be like mine. Look down, back up. Where are you? You’re on Facebook, reading the status your status could be like”

On how I grew so smart!

2011-08-27T19:03:00.000-07:00

I have had very tough early school years. Behind this “Bright” kid, is a long struggling success story.

Most of you know by now that my sister and I were problem kids. It wasn’t always our mistake that our mother got called to the school often. Like that time when the teacher asked me that dogs question.

She said: “Deepali, if I give you two dogs and then give you two more dogs…how many dogs would you have?”

I said: “Five Dogs.”

The teacher asked this question many times and every time my answer was five. I think after the seventh attempt, she lost her cool and called in my mother. My mother’s answer was ‘Four Dogs’ and even after I reminded her that we already had a dog at home, and the correct answer was ‘Five Dogs’, she only gave me a stare.

But the best part about my growing up years was, that we never had to stay put at one school for more than a year. Thanks to my dad’s profession, we shifted cities so often that we didn’t really have to care about creating a positive impression on our teachers.

In Pathankot, we were admitted in a Convent school. The first day changed everything – they took me to a hall where they had publicly nailed one student on a giant plus sign.

Just to confirm, I asked the girl sitting next to me(who in later years grew to be my BFF ) : “Why do you think that guy has been nailed to a big plus and hanged on the wall?”

Priyanka replied: “Maybe, he failed maths. Why else, would they nail him on a big plus.”

I thanked God, he hadn’t failed English…imagine being nailed to an ‘A’ – a nail through the head for sure.

I didn’t want to meet the same fate….and ended up becoming the best student the school had ever seen.

Now, I could get my report card signed on the same day it was given to me by my teachers – not because I was getting good marks, but because now my classmates had stopped borrowing it to scare their parents.

Soon I became the pet of my teachers. To avoid sitting in classes, I would simply stand outside staff room to remain in sight of teachers who would always have some task for me. This way, I got away with classes, didn’t fall short of attendance and also became everyone’s favorite.

But unfortunately, we left school after another year. And I had to start all over again in the new school. By now, I was an expert :)

flabbergasted, speechless and shocked

2011-07-25T19:35:00.001-07:00

We called him “The Jalebi boy”, for he reminded us of the guy from Dhara- Jalebi ad. His smile was to die for. His eyes dripped naughtiness. He would leave no opportunity to play a prank and yet he managed to reserve a place in people’s heart instantly. Even though he was hardly 6 years younger to me, I made it a point to find him in recess (in school) and made sure he called me “Bua” (Aunt) and bowed down to me, in front of his friends, else I would complain to his folks. Yes, I’ve always been a bully.

Years later, we met at my wedding. He had grown into this handsome 19 year old with the same naughty look and a killer smile. Full of life and energy. We met nearly after 6 years, but he still remembered to bow down and call me “Bua” (with a blush this time). He was everything for his grandparents. His grandparents could never stop talking about how lucky they have been to have such a loving and caring boy as their grandson. His dad had high hopes from him. He was a genius too. He was a feather in our family’s hat. Even though he was loved by everybody, he was the closest to his sister.

He lived his life to the fullest. That smile never left his face. While he was preparing to enter the armed forces and serve our country, he also knew how to live in the moment.

Two days back he uploaded a few pics from his recent trip to Hyderabad on facebook. He seemed to be having a gala time with our cousins. Partying till late night, enjoying the streets in an auto rickshaw, posing for the camera, modeling his new pair of glasses, and what not. And today, he’s gone. A person who existed till a day before, who was laughing and enjoying till yesterday, is no more today. He’s gone, leaving his family to grieve forever.

When he left the house with his friend for a drive, his family wouldn’t have realized that they were seeing him alive for the last time. Well, not really. His father did get to see him alive breathing his last breath. He got their just in time to see him close his small eyes forever. He departed his soul in his father’s arms. Imagine a father’s plight, who dreamt his son to be a successful Air Force officer, who nourished his son to being a wonderful human being, who always held his hand through thick and thin so he could be their supporting pillar when they need it the most, seeing his son covered in his own blood.

After screaming under my pillow, howling and weeping in my room for days, sleepless nights, I can’t help but wonder what his last thoughts were. I wonder if he was scared. I wonder if he wanted to see his family for the last time. I wonder if he was relieved to see his father. I wonder if that smile on his face was still there. Guess I would never know. But one thing I can be sure of, that Inder Jamwal (IJ), will always be missed.

It's been 3 days now, but I still feel he would reply to my messages on facebook. I still feel I would wake up tomorrow to realize that this is just a very scary dream. I still feel everybody is mistaken and this is not true.
Inder, please come back :(

Near Death Experience!!!

2011-07-03T19:08:00.000-07:00

Lately, my life has been so exciting, I could write a book and I bet it would be a best seller… “The Adventures of Deepali” (Tintin would be ashamed of himself after reading this).

Gone are the days when men were macho. Then they started coloring their hair… a few did the nail polish… some wore shirts with frills… and some got their ears pierced. As men were sucked into the lady’s domain, the average lady entered the macho world. Getting tickets for speeding, watching cricket, enjoying sci-fi action movies and bungee jumping.

I happened to try my hand at bungee jumping too. It has been on my “to-do” list ever since I knew I wanted to be an astronaut. And then I wanted to be a postman, then an engine driver and then Miss World. While my ambitions changed, Bungee Jump always topped my “to-do” list.

I don’t wanna be a jerk and scare you guys, but it is worse than it looks. I’d rather lie flat on railway tracks and die with a heart attack waiting for the train than jump from 215 ft leaving my life to the mercy of a mere rope.

While the staff was buckling me up and preparing me to jump, they tried their best to engross me in small talks. Maybe they smelled my fear and wanted to distract me so I don’t change my mind (or maybe they were concerned I would back out and ask for a refund), but all I could think of was, “who the hell, talked me into this?”

Standing at the edge of the cliff, I remembered how scared I was of heights. I remember that one time when my dad lifted me on his shoulders and I threw up (wonder why no one volunteered lifting me up after that?). All these scary thoughts were crossing my mind, I didn’t even make a final call to my parents, I haven’t embarrassed my sister enough, I am yet to witness Ashish and Mishti (for those who have been irregular to my blog, Mishti is my pet dog) bond.

When the staff was done with buckling me up, I realized, it was just a rope tied to my ankles. No life jacket, not parachute, not jumping with a professional. It was a free fall. Nothing to hold onto. “Why would anyone do such a thing?” “I can’t even jump off the diving board, I most certainly can’t do this”. I wasn’t even done making up my mind that they started their countdown. They didn’t listen to me when I wanted to chicken out.(Bloody bullies!) 5..4..3..2..1 and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…….

I jumped. I remember the feeling. I was so scared that if I weren’t hanging upside down, I would have wet my pants. I almost had a near death experience. This was exactly the feeling that you sometimes dream of. That you are falling off the cliff, there is nothing to hold on to and now you are going to die. But luckily, the moment you fall, your mind gets alert and you wake up.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t a dream. I was sure this wasn’t, because I even slapped myself to wake up, but nothing worked. There was pretty much nothing I could do, so I screamed my lungs out. Like I have never screamed before. Hoping for a super man or a spider man (or even Krishh for that matter) to hear my dreadful screams and come flying to save me from the horror. But no one heard me, rather I heard my sadist husband laughing at my expense. I could even see the life guards laughing at me. They were stunned how a girl of my size could scream that loud. (Even I’ve got certain talents!!! )

Wow! That was some experience. Every time the rope bounced back, it got even more scarier and my screams kept getting louder. But I was happy it was over. One thing off my “to-do” list. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience (trust me, I’m never doing it again). Sky-diving’s next!

Those of you laughing at me, watch my video to have an even harder laugh!!!

My Mind Refuses To Grow

2011-02-25T03:01:00.000-08:00

After having lived 25 precious years of my life, I have realized that my mind still feels 16 (Not 18, but 16 ☺). After passing out of school and spending the most entertaining and fun moments with my schoolmates, for nearly a year and a half, my mind refused to accept the fact that my life had moved on. I was still hung on to the football ground, class rooms, my friends, pranks that we played in school, until I started enjoying my life even more in college. I never thought I would ever be able to enjoy my life more than I did in school and I proved myself wrong. Found the most amazing friends (rather, they found me sitting somewhere lost in my past ☺), laughed till tears rolled down, played even sillier pranks, got kicked out of classes and yet no regrets, partied, danced, had a ball. And when the moment came to graduate and leave for masters, howled and shrieked at the airport, hugging each one of them and assuring them that these were the best days of my life and that my life will never be the same.

During first semester of Masters, I was stuck to my college days and bored every prospective friend of mine with my past memories (No wonder some of them prefered remaining "prospective"). Only till I laughed even harder, so hard that I might even have pissed in my pants. I had such a ball that I borrowed my statement and said “no, no. These are the best days of my life”.

Little did I know what was in store for me in the so-called “corporate world”? I knew that life beyond this is only going to be a big struggle, where people are waiting to slaughter and run all over me. Clueless and naive, that I am, was hung on to my MBA memories only until I realized what fun I was having. We laughed, played pranks, ran like kids, bitched and loved each other. I was then forced to again borrow my statement and use it here “These are DEFINATELY the best days of my life”.

I was shifting to a place so unknown and I knew “this is it! It’s over for me. My life can not get better than this.” And to my surprise, it did. ☺ Not only did I meet the most wonderful, pleasing, delightful and lovely flat mate, I made a home in Ahmedabad. I have choked and almost died laughing, I have been pampered like never before, and I have enjoyed every single moment of my stay in Ahmedabad. And now I am again borrowing my statement and using it here “those were the best days of my life”.

Now, I am so hung up on my days in Ahmedabad, that my mind just refuses to live in the present. Waking up in the mornings is the worst. I don’t have Trishna here who would let me sleep and quietly slip out to make us breakfast and lunch. While toasting my bread, I think of how Trishna and I craved for a toaster. Watching Full House, Friends and crazy youtube videos was never this fun. Admiring myself gazing in d mirror is no more fun when she is not around to tell you how you get on her nerves. Quilling has almost come to a halt without my driving force being around. I am so stuck that my mind never stops wondering “This is not how I did it in Ahmedabad. This is how Trishna used to cook. This is what my routine used to be. This is how we labeled our masalas. This is how we would have loud music playing in our house 24X7. This is how she would cook and I would just stand there narrating the entire days happenings to her. This is how we survived summers. This is how we LIVED”. I guess, I am gonna be trapped with these emotions for the longest time now.

The point that I’m trying to make here is that I have had such a wonderful journey, that every phase has been the best phase of my life ☺

This post is dedicated to all my friends. Love you all!!!

Living My Dream

2011-01-08T06:40:00.000-08:00

90 out of 100 girls have their weddings planned ever since they knew what it means. When Ken would come in a flower coated Mercedes to marry their little Barbie, they would make every effort possible to put an extra layer of make up on her to make her prettier than what she really was (and mind you, she was the prettiest doll).

A perfect wedding is what they all dream of. They all have a guests list prepared (even though it is modified everyday depending on whom did we fight or make friend with today), sequence of songs,theme, choice of flowers, and some may even have the menu prepared. The point to be conveyed here is, wedding day is the most awaited day in a girl’s life.

I lived my day not very long back. Exactly 2 weeks back at this time I was holding on to Trishna’s hand so tight that she had to chew her lip from screaming. Everything went well (just like how I had thought). It was filmy to core with songs like “jaane nahin denge tujhe” being played when ashish refused to pay
money to my sister and friends when they stopped him from entering the hall. It was thrilling, when my brothers lifted me in air to put a garland around ashish, I was dreading any sort of mishap with my dress. It was romantic, when Ashish and I had our first dance and he couldn’t take his eyes off me. It was dramatic.
Knowing me, the dramatic part had to be stretched. Kanyadan, phere, vidayi, all throughout, tears kept washing away the entire make up on me.

All in all, it was fun. People who claimed to have two left feet were dancing, smiling faces all around,catching up with the entire gamut of relatives, get together of friends after ages, I being in the lime light,content parents, their efforts being appreciated, affectionate parent – in- laws and to top it all, most
loving husband. He managed to sweep me off my feet a year back and yet again he made me fall in love with him all over.

Now, My room (Oops! OUR room) is full of our wedding pictures, everything is working out well, I have started adjusting to this very new lifestyle, everything seems perfect, but the most satisfying part is that with ashish, I am sure to
live my dream all my life :)

Signing off as Mrs Ashish Singh Chauhan :)

First Official Wedding Invite!

2010-09-24T03:08:00.000-07:00

If you are a regular visitor to my blog, you’ll probably know that I am FINALLY tying the knot. And from my previous posts, it wouldn’t have been difficult to crack who the groom is. Ashish and I met precisely 9 months back and it didn’t take us longer than a month to reserve each other for life.

Our journey so far has been full of drama, romance, action, dance, emotions and LOVE. It is difficult to capture all of that on this blog or on any invitation card. Hence, we decided to prepare our own wedding website. This website is not only an invitation but it also unveils our true emotions for each other, our characters, people who have contributed to make this love story a success, different chapters of our love life, etc.

A lot of effort has gone into making that site a fun read. I truly hope you enjoy surfing it (which I am sure you will) and then get back to me with your valuable (Read Nice) comments.

Here’s the link: http://www.ewedding.com/sites/DeepaliJamwal

Enjoy!!!

My First Love

2010-09-12T23:22:00.000-07:00

I was in class 4 when I fell in love with him. He was dashing, sensitive, and stylish to the core. I would fall weak in my knees every time I saw him. But my enthusiasm was crushed in school when I realized every girl from the age group of 10 to 50 was in love with him too. But I knew deep Deep DEEP inside my heart that he was thinking only of me when he sang “pehla pehla pyaar hai”. Salman Khan has managed to capture my heart and soul ever since then. So much so, I declared to my dad that I would marry only him. I also realized the huge age difference, but not like I wanted to marry him then, I would wait till I grow as old as him :).

They say “with time love ages”. It’s been 16 years since then. Both of us have seen our share of ups and downs in life. The media somehow could never get enough of him in these 16 years. He always made headlines for wrong reasons. Such a shame, for he is one Bollywood actor who indulged in social causes. Population control for example. However, my love for him just seems to ooze out with even higher frequency, every time I watch his new release.

Dabangg, is being compared with 3 Idiots and has already given a competition to the much awaited ‘Robot’ of Rajnikanth. I am so proud of him that I fear my chest will inflate ripping off my shirt just like in the last scene of the movie. Watch out all other Khans of the industry, for this Khan doesn’t even need to unbutton his shirt. Some may wonder what is it about him that makes the public go wild? I suggest watch Dabangg, for this movie is not about the story or music or starcast. It’s about Salman Khan and Salman Khan and even more Salman Khan.

I ask, which other actor can make success of a movie by just his mere presence and his charisma? And all those intellectual geeks who look for a smart script and “Inception” like story, this movie is not meant for you. This is not meant to make sense. It’s only meant to entertain, which it does in overdoses. This is a typical Bollywood movie meant for a typical bollywood fan like me.

After being a certified Bollywood fan for all my life, having attended a few award functions and standing outside Salman’s balcony on Wednesdays to get a glimpse of him in a crowd not less than seen in Dadar station, it is official that Salman has the most fan following that anyone could ever manage.

A short message for Salman: I am eligible to marry you now. (Hurry, this offer valid for another 3 months only)

To Ashish, with Love

2010-08-23T10:40:00.000-07:00

On completing eight months of courtship, I wrote this to Ashish:
Dear Ashish,

Remember this day? No, the fact that it lies on the same day as Rakshabandhan has nothing to do wid it.

Silly me! How can you ever forget this day? I have been reminding you on 23rd of every month to send me flowers the next day as a celebration for completing (tolerating in your case) another month with each other.

This was the day when we first saw each other and I decided to marry you. Don’t know what took you so long to decide? (Considering I was at my best behavior and was strictly instructed to talk less).

The journey so far has been so beautiful and thrilling. Be it those heavy-on-pocket phone bills or be it those swollen eyes after night long chat session or be it the sullen mood coz of wretched internet connection. (Wondering what the beautiful part is?)

I am so happy that we eventually agreed on to become husband and wife. I know, during our last few conversations we have had doubts over who is husband and who is the wife. But isn’t all that secondary? Isn’t just being together such an exhilarating experience?

I still remember how you were sweating before talking to my dad at first. Despite rehearsing over the conversation a hundred times, you ended up calling my dad “Mr Jamwal”. (If you are not in the army, you won’t know what a disgrace it is for an officer not to be addressed by his rank) My dad, the soft and gentle person that he is, decided to give my hand in yours (the person who refused to acknowledge his contribution to the Indian Army for 36 years) for our better future. (Whose better future?)

We have had a cool eight months together. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching you on skype. Don’t worry even if you don’t get leave to come a week before wedding, but please make it for the wedding. Marrying you on skype would be difficult (who would carry all the gifts from reception hall to home?)

Let us celebrate this day by chatting for an extra hour online and sending out to each other e-cards. (Man! Technology has got played a big role in our relationship).

Love you always,
DJ

Celebrating B'days in Style!!!

2010-08-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

Yeah! Yeah! I am gonna be a year older in another 14 days 15 hours and 10 mins (not that I am obsessed) :) I have always loved my b’days. Be it for the gifts that I am usually loaded with or be it getting phone calls and birthday wishes that makes me feel important or be it the fact that I am wiser by another year. (Dunno how many of you would agree with that ;))

One of the best b’days I have ever celebrated was when I turned 18 (I am not telling you how long back was that, to avoid weakening of my fan following ;)).

The clock just struck 12 when Abhishek, Dujon, Huzefa, Vincent, Benny and Sanam rang my bell. I won’t say I was surprised coz they planned this while passing notes to each other in French class VIA me. But I sure did act surprised. They got me a huge basket fruit cake. While I cut that, my mom brought me another cake from the kitchen which she had been trying to hide from me all day long. I was overwhelmed with their gesture.

We celebrated for a while before I started getting phone calls and they decided to disperse. As I walked them to the gate, another group of friends (Rohit and gang) came in with a HUGE cake and even gigantic teddy bear. It was so huge that Rohit, being the small and skinny guy he was, couldn’t even wrap his arms around it and couldn’t wait to hand it over to me. There we go, my turn to cut my 3rd b’day cake for the day. Now I understand why the man behind the counter said in disappointment “Oh no, not again!” when Sanam asked him to bake a cake with “Deepali” written on it.

Next morning I woke up with a smile and total satisfaction. Simle, because it was my b’day after 365 days and satisfaction, because my sister wasn’t around, so all the cakes in fridge were only and only meant to be consumed by me. :) I got dressed in my new pair of jeans and t-shirt, prayed to god (mom would never let us leave the house without praying), ate cake for breakfast and left for college, where Abhishek along with Huzefa, Dujon, Vincent, Benny, Sanam, Bunty, Ram, Ashok, Luis, Varun, Kiran, Anthony, John, Kshama, Rishi and a few others whose names I can’t remember (such a shame, because they were amongst my best friends too) were waiting outside on their bikes and cars. They hijacked me and took me to Ocean Park (Water kingdom of Secunderabad). There I cut my 4th B’day cake inside water. I remember, we had to pay extra fine for creating a mess and later were thrown out for not letting other visitors enjoy any rides. I ask, is it wrong to push people down the slides when they are stuck in the middle? (I was just trying to help).

But anyways, we moved out from there to a farm house for lunch, where we hogged like crazy since all of us were tired after all the activity. That’s where I was presented with the 5th cake of the day. This day was just getting better with every passing moment. Beyond 5 O’clock, my dearest mother starts getting concerned. She began to call me every five minutes and I had to push off for home.

When I landed home, my room was all decorated and was full with all the gifts wrapped in nice shimmery papers. It was such a beautiful sight that I never wanted to unwrap the gifts. :) That was the most fun birthday I’ve ever celebrated.
I know I have grown up since then and have no friends around here (in Ahmedabad) to celebrate my b’day with. But I still look forward for the day and for all the phone calls and birthday wishes I receive. If you are a close friend and reading this, here’s a tip: please sms me or call me, but don’t wish me on facebook. I think that’s the most impersonal way to wish.

Signing off :)

Oh BTW, another hour gone by

I Confess!

2010-08-18T03:27:00.000-07:00

I don’t remember when I first saw rain. And since I don’t remember, why don’t we make up a story? So it was year 1987 and I was a 2 year old child fed on a high dose of cerelac. After a heavy meal, I was relaxing my head on our dog (Sandy) when we heard a sudden commotion in the family. Sandy would wait for such opportunities so he could show off his skills, jump off the bed, run as fast as a cheetah to the commotion site and bark at everyone in sight till my dad fed him a dog biscuit.

“Stupid Dog”, I muttered under my breath and looked outside. My mom ran upstairs to pick up the clothes drying outside and my dad ran towards me followed by Sandy. He was coming too fast for me that I just closed my eyes and said my last prayers. Next minute I was sitting on his shoulders and we were running outside. Sandy was enjoying all the action and was smiling ear to ear. :)

Sitting on my father’s shoulders I felt the first drops of rain on my face. It was heavenly. If only my dad wudn’t have tossed me in the air and gotten me all wet and sick, I would have enjoyed the moment better.

I confess that I love rainy days. You are probably saying, finally this psycho loves something else beyond herself.

I love the tea that forms on road (muddy water created on kuccha road). The imaginative me have always tried to find faces and shapes in the tea. Next time you see muddy water on the road, imagine it to be tea. You will sometimes even see the malai floating. After a car passes by, for sometime the muddy water will resemble a chocolate milk shake.

Over the years, my affinity towards rain has been motivated – for different reasons. When I was in class five in St Joseph’s, Pathankot …the school would submerge (not fully but at least a foot deep) after an hour’s rain. This meant leave for two days….now don’t blame me for loving rain.

As I grew my reasons changed. When in tenth, I loved going to school on rainy days….because half the class wouldn’t have turned up and the teachers dare not teach. Since I was a Complan girl, I never fell sick. Some of the teachers would be absent. I still remember a sleeping teacher sitting in front even as we spent the 45 minute periods talking our way to glory.

When in college, it provided us with an excellent excuse to come late or bunk classes. In Secunderabad, traffic depends on seasons. There are two seasons – the seasons to ride (Summer) and the season to drive (Rainy). Purists believe there is one more season – the season to sit at home.

Now, I love rains for the fringe benefits. I don’t have to wash my balcony. Tomorrow I am going to take an off from work because I am going to fall sick… courtesy rain (no one in my office knows that I am a Complan girl)

Sorry…we stop this because it is already sounding like an autobiography.
Signing off :)

Wat to do?

2010-06-11T02:52:00.000-07:00

I have always been a very outspoken and straight forward person. By being critical I thought I was helping people overcome their shortcomings, but now I think it’s in my blood and being critical comes so naturally to me. I wouldn’t have realized this fact if Trishna wouldn’t have left a message on Ashish’s facebook profile, “Deepali is too outright. Both of you will soon be outcast-ed by the society. I am just warning you”.

Being the loving person that he is, replied instantly, “That’s great! Then both of us will live in isolation and will have all the time in the world for ourselves”. I cant be more thankful to god for being kind enough to bless me with a gem like him. I wish I could be equally happy for him. :)

I am critical but not heartless. I wouldn’t want Ashish to be outcasted because of me. So I took a self analysis test and thought of replies which could be more diplomatic than my spoken words.

Situation 1: Trishna shows a cute healthy baby picture to me on facebook:

Trish: Isn’t he the cutest… gopuchhululupuli (that’s the funny noise that she makes when she finds anything cute.)
Me: Aaawwww… really… look at his cheeks falling like a bull dog
Probable answer: Aaaaaaaaawwwwww… really… look at his cheeks so healthy. No where in comparison to a bull dog :)

Situation 2: Purvi checking herself out in the mirror asks me:

Purvi: Do you this I look fat in this dress
Me: Purvi, It’s not really about the dress.
Probable answer: Purvi, yeah I think its about your dress. I bet if I wore it, it would add another 20 kgs on me as well. :)

Situation 3: When Purvi was booking her railway ticket and I suggested she should rather travel by air coz the tickets are easily available:

Purvi: I don’t feel safer traveling by air
Me: Of course you don’t. With that weight, even the pilot would be scared flying
Probable answer: Of course you don’t. But maybe you could book two tickets for yourself, so that would compensate for your extra weight. :)

Ashish says that I should atleast try and keep in good books of Trishna coz once we are outcasted by the society we will have only her to bank upon. On the contrary, Trishna says that she would be the first one to throw sho(e) me away. Dunno wat to do? :)

We never fight!

2010-06-11T02:17:00.000-07:00

Ashish and I never fight. There is an unspoken understanding between us. Whenever an argument begins, he keeps quiet, will let me finish my side of the story, very gently put his view forward, calm down the ‘yelling’ me and then apologize. :). He’s a very well trained boy friend.

Some of you might think that he’s a hen-pecked bf. Before I even start proving that he’s not hen-pecked, let me tell you that being hen-pecked is not an easy task :)

“I think I’ll make all d wedding cards myself”, I said that after one of my quilled cards was appreciated and accepted well by the society.

“No sweety, that’ll be too taxing. We would rather get them printed from outside”, said the concerned person in him.

“You are just not confident about my skills. Aren’t you?”

“You know that’s not true. If you want we’ll get atleast half of them printed” I could sense hesitation in his voice

“I know you don’t wanna take chances Ashish” I call him by his name when I’m angry

“Hon, you are misjudging me” He dare not call me by MY name even if he’s angry.

I remember telling him (or ordering him?) that I might not attend the wedding myself if it wasn’t according to my plan. That’s when he gave up. And ever since then, his conversations are pretty much limited to the following words:
“As you wish”
“If that makes you happy”
“I am sure that’s a beautiful plan”
“Of course we’ll have it your way. (Like I have a say?)” I could read his mind.
“BTW, I don’t understand why do I keep getting an “All d best” message from your friends?”

Quilling : My latest developed passion

2010-06-07T23:26:00.000-07:00

For those less educated, Qulling is an art of rolling paper strips and shaping them to crate different designs. I accidently came across a blog of a dear friend where she had put up her quilled designs. They were so fascinating that I decided to learn up all about it. After a few weeks of practice, I’ve become a pro in it. Considering the humble person that I am, instead of praising myself, I would just quote a few people who saw my work:

Trishna, “Deepali, this work is radiant. You must be so proud of yourself”

Priyanka, “Deepali, you have magical hands. Beautiful work”

Purvi, “I cant wait for the day you start selling this. I’ll buy it all.”

Abhishek, “You are a pro dude”

Ashish, “I have never seen such a beautiful art. I am so proud of you. I can just stare at your work for hours”

Deepaish, “DJ, you are super talented”

Now I don’t remember the exact words spoken by all the above, but they were almost on similar lines. (“wink”). Here, putting up a few pictures of my work for you guys to decide for yourself. :)

My life has finally found a purpose. I dedicate my life to quilling. So much so, I have decided to make all my wedding cards myself. I only fear I might fall in love with them and won’t be able to part with them :)

GM Diet works!!!

2010-06-07T01:44:00.000-07:00

My apologies for not being regular on this site. My boss has been piling tonnes of work on me in office and the other times when I am not working; I’m dancing, gyming, or quilling. So you see, life in the past one month has been very busy, unlike Mumbai where I had all the time in the world during office hours. No offense to my ex boss, but I got plenty of time to update at least 5 posts a month . Today my boss is out of town for a week. He’s claiming his LTA. God bless the committee who thought of designing this LTA plan. It’s not only necessary for the employee but also beneficial for his colleagues. So I vow to post one new entry everyday of this week to make up for the lost one month.

Today is my last day of GM diet. I had to do it for one simple reason. Weight loss. I had become round and hideous, and did very little to curb my craving for sweets. So much so, I joined gym, worked out for one hour in the morning, walk 8 kms in the evening and then one hour of rigorous dance class. But none of this was benefiting me. I guess eating one tin of milk maid after every session of work out wasn’t a great idea. So I was advised by a friend, “Dude, you need dieting, before you die eating”.

Today, I have completed 7 days of GM diet. Though I did cheat in between, had a few cookies when it got uncontrollable, but I still did manage to lose around 3 kgs. Resisting the temptation during the first two days was quite tough, hence on the third day I gave up and didn’t resist. Even though I claimed I was on this diet, I ate almost anything that I wanted to. So I guess the weight loss happened only on the first two days. Yesterday I went out shopping. Where I would always buy a “medium” size, I bought “small”. I feel lighter and smarter (“wink”).

Bottom line is that GM diet does work. It’s a quick way to shed a few kilos in a week. I’m going on this diet again on Friday. This time I’ll be more determined and firm.

When I started Gyming!!!

2010-04-07T03:25:00.000-07:00

I realized I was a fitness freak when our dad took me and my sister (aged 16 and 14 respectively, back then) to one of the typical Army Gym behind Officers’ Mess. For my non -army background friends (somehow calling them civilians is derogatory), an Officers Mess is not the place simply meant to dine. Here same set of people partied every single night, leaving their kids locked up in the TV room with one sahayak bhaiya to watch them over while they played tambola and ate chicken.

Coming back to the topic, our dad took us to gym for the first time. My sister and I went berserk on seeing the treadmill and such fancy equipments (even though most of them were rusted). Since my running shoes were still wet from last evening when I tried to wash them white for today, I had to wear my black leather school shoes to jog on the treadmill.

After 2 hours well spent on cycling, dumbles, treadmill and walker, we realized that in our excitement we had forgotten lunch. Since Shanu refused to get off the fitness equipment, food was ordered from mess (one place where we could buy food merely by signing the slips, which we later realized were sent to our dad for payment. That’s when we stopped treating our friends). It was only after 4 hours when we agreed to get off the treadmill and anyways in the 4 hours of running we had realized that in a treadmill you only run and run and run and run and go nowhere!

Our intensity didn’t come down next day either, which was a Sunday and we left home early to hit the gym. On Monday we hired Professional Movers & Packers to pack and transport us to our school.

According to my Physical Education teacher (who thought the World is flat… it is another thing that the football field was his World)… it takes more than 12 hours for lactic acid to form in overworked muscles. It happened a little sooner for us. Half way through the day my legs started paining. I couldn’t move a muscle and had to sit in class even while all my friends played basket ball. I tried looking occupied with my studies since exams were approaching. Maybe that’s why the authorities thought what a sincere kid I was and awarded me “The studious student” award. Parag nearly killed me for that since he worked hard to bag that one. It’s only when I explained him the mishap did he understand and let go. Next day onwards I saw him gymming- that is working out in Gym – (it is an equivalent of ‘Googling’) everyday.

I love myself!!!

2010-04-02T02:47:00.000-07:00

Supriya is getting engaged this week and this is the message she sent me: “What are you wearing for my engagement”

I replied, “I have the prettiest pink saree. I’ll probably wear that”

Supriya: “Wear whatever, but I’ll look the best on that day”.

Me: “Yeah! It’s your day. I’ll let you have it”.

To this she replied “Thank you my highness, I love you for this”. I could sense sarcasm in her text. But that didn't stop me and I replied “Yeah, I love myself too”.

She called me an egotist and refused to pick up the phone when I called to patch up. Either she was upset or got busy looking for an even prettier saree to compete with mine.

The other day, Trishna (my flat mate) caught me blowing kisses to myself and passed a comment “You must really love yourself na?”

Duh! I wonder what took her so long to figure that one out. Chances are, she did not notice all those love bites on my mirror image.

I don’t want to be bragging here, but I think if only I were a little more modest…I would be the perfect human being that ever walked this Earth. I just need to be a little more modest…that is all.

I found out that I was perfect the day I played Mira Bai’s role in a school play. After I got off the stage, the audience and my teacher went loud, crazy and unruly. She even told me if she was a guy and I was an adult, she would marry me. Puhleez! Like I would agree to that. One of my classmates walked up to me and said: “You were amazing. I don’t have words to describe you.”

I said: “Try harder.”

She didn’t yield to my prompt and we spent the next ten minutes discussing my background, my family and my future plans. When I got bored I told her: “Enough of me….let us now talk about you.”

I could see she was happy.
“What do YOU think of me?” I asked her…but she stared right through me and went on her way.

A friend of mine has fallen in love with himself and is looking forward to a life-long romance. As if that was not enough, another friend wants to die in her own arms. Now, what do you call that?

If Men stop lying

2010-03-12T04:17:00.000-08:00

What would happen if tomorrow all men in the World stop lying? They will start dying. Simple.

You probably think I said the men would be dying because it rhymed with lying. No…if I wanted a word that rhymed with lying…I would have gone with – crying, spying, eyeing, flying, sighing and vying…and I can assure you all of them would have made sense and yet rhymed with lying.

But believe me…the moment man stops lying…he will have no option left but to leave this world. The logic is simple…can fish live without water? Can bears live without salmons? Can butter flies live without necter? Can men live without lying?

Let’s take an example and judge for yourself:-

Mom: I look different today
Dad: I don’t think so. You look perfect as always
Mom: Do you think I look fat?

Now here, dad is left with two options. Either:

Dad: (after a long pause)… yeah. Maybe u’ve put on some weight. (and then apologize for the next few weeks)
Or
Dad: (Without a pause)… Not at all. You look exactly like on the day we got married (and expect a delicious meal)

Men from different religion, caste, creed, economic strata lie the same. I realized this fact only a few days back when Ashish dozed off while talking to me on the phone and I kept chatting for another 10 minutes while there was no response form his side. Considering the fact that he is a patient listener, I continued talking without any doubts in my mind until I heard him snore at the other end. Yes! He was snoring while talking to me. I remember how my dad would walk away or get pissed even if we yawned while he spoke to us and mind you, Ashish was SNORING. My dad and I share some common traits and short-temper, runs in our blood. So I yelled out his name loud. Loud enough to wake up his room mates. This is how our conversation followed:

Me: How dare you fall asleep while talking to me?
Ashish: I wasn’t sleeping. I was reading an article
Me: Then how-cum I heard you snore?
Ashish: Snore? (In his mind: How could I?) That’s not possible for two reasons: one, I don’t snore; two: I wasn’t sleeping. I was studying. I could show you the article I was reading if only you log on skype.
Me: Are you sure, you aren’t lying?
Ashish: (In his mind: I guess she’s buying it. Lets push it a little more) Of course. I would never lie to you

And that’s how he lied to me AGAIN.
But men are not to be blamed completely for lying. Women have a strong hand leading men to lie. Women will forgive and forget, but wont let men forgive that they have forgiven and forgotten. Just like for the next couple of months, I didn’t let go of the fact that he slept while talking to me and then lied and then lied again to cover the previous lie and again.

Introducing!!!

2010-02-28T11:02:00.000-08:00

Okay! So I’ve been getting loads of e-mails, SMSs, phone calls and letters regarding my previous post. I wonder why cant people just leave their queries in the comments box. It’s so much simpler, plus an increased number of comments make the blogger look popular.

Coming back to updating you guys about current happenings in my life, YES, I have finally found my “Mr. Right”. Boo Hoo to Abhishek, who always thought that no person would ever be patient enough to spend entire life with me and that I’ll end up living with Cats and Dogs. Well! Ashish proved him worng (or seems so at d moment).

Ashish Chauhan (had to write his name down a hundred times, to make sure I didn’t introduce him to my colleagues and friends as Ashish Chaudhary AGAIN) is a Delhiite (no offense, but when he sits down to talk, his UP wala accent can not be missed). The first thing I noticed about him was, innocence dripping down from every bit of his face which said “I am a good boy, please don’t bully me”. And his charming personality, ignoring the cold “Hi” he gave me.

He’s exact opposite of me. For one, he’s matured and sensible. He’s a perfect marriage material, whom you can proudly introduce to your parents and can be rest assured that they’ll love him too. He’s sensitive enough and would never do anything to hurt a fly. He’s a complete blend of intelligence (or am I the only one who thought HISTORY was boring?), humbleness (his trait of treating rich, poor, pretty and ugly in a similar way, totally floor me), simplicity (after all, not all Delhiites are show-offs), argumentative (did I mention he’s a Gemini, and will always get his way through. Sometimes, he wudn’t even make u realize that u have already lost).

In all, this Delhiite is perfect for me. He is patient, so listens to all the crap that I have to say. He is calm and soft spoken, so we have a perfect balance there. He’s an excellent cook, so needless to say, we strike a balance there as well. He’s a good person. But you know, how they say, “a good person need not be a good singer”. :-) Yet he manages to sing to me everynight and every morning. The man is full of self confidence as well.

He’s fun loving (even though he wouldn’t agree to it, since he likes to maintain his “grown up” image), hard working, very responsible and he is always there for his friends. He is an excellent counselor and can help you get out of the biggest mess, without any difficulty.

Since this introductory post was supposed to have all goody goody stuff, Ashish u escaped.

P.S.: Here's d link to his blog, which has my introductory post. And the self- obsessed person that I am, I would like all my followers to take a read. http://cleaningupmycloset.blogspot.com/

Cya soon!

My world is suddenly crowded

2010-02-17T02:36:00.000-08:00

Till a week back, my family consisted of my mom, dad, sister and Mishti. Now it has multipled. It consists of my mom, dad, sister, mishit, Ashish, his mom, dad, sister, brother-in-law and nephew. Phew! (and mind you, I am not even starting with the extended family).

On Feb 12 (the day families exchanged gifts and officially our status changed) the photo-ops were many and there were 3 cameras and 2 video carmeras. That is if I do not include the Handycams brought in by NDTV, Aaj Tak and Headlines Today. As a result, there could be a few snaps where the smile is fake. But I can assure you, those lines on my forehead (save-me) are real.

Now for the picture time. Each picture comes with an explanation….

The redden moment: When everybody had arrived and were seated in the drawing room, my dad brought me in front of everybody from behind the curtains (where I was watching Srilanka v/s New Zealand match) like any typical hindi movie. You can see me, fiddling with my ring and bangles. This is what happens when you are seated in an uncomfortable position and can’t even re- adjust coz any slight moment of yours would make head lines in tomorrows paper.

The Moment: This pic was snapped when Alka di (Ashish’s sister) was covering my head with the dupatta, symbolizing that I have been booked. You might notice the picture is a bit blurred, that is because my dad’s eyes were moist at the moment with tears while clicking the picture.

The mother-in-law moment: This was the only time when I had no thoughts running in my mind (apart from the I-hope-bindi-is-positioned-in-the-center-of-my-forehead). She’s a gem of a person, and I was at peace in this moment shared with her. I think the picture is dark, because by this time my dad was wiping his tears.

The what-next moment: This was clicked when my lap was overloaded with gifts. Even though my expressions suggest that I am smiling and blushing, I am actually confused and looking at my mom, waiting for a signal from her to tell me when to bow down and touch everybody’s feet.

The bowing moment: I was instructed by mom that I should touch every elder’s feet after the function. As luck would have it, I was the youngest in the room (if we exclude 2 year Vidyut). Even though this was something new for me, it didn’t show. Thanks to the one hour practice with my dad. Even though my expressions are not captured, I am wondering, when would be the right time for me to stand up?

The Big Family: Now we are a big happy family. First row (left to right): Alka di, Ashish’ Mausi, my mom, the shy me, Ashish’ mom. Second row (left to right): Vidyut (who had no clue what was happening), Kanishka (Ashish’ brother-in-law), Ashish’s dad, my dad (if u look closely, his eye are still moist) and Ashish’ Tauji. The only ones missing in this picture are Ashish himself, Shanu and Mishti of course, who likes to be clicked individually and hates group pictures.

God willing.. (and our family photographer willing) you will see many more such snaps on this website.

Beware

2010-02-10T09:30:00.000-08:00

If you know me, then this post will ring bells, so read ahead. And if you don’t know me, this would give you an idea of things to keep in mind before you intend being friends with me:

As most of you know, how humble and modest I am. The unpretentious me, cannot stand criticism. It is a very common trait in Virgos. We are very critical by nature and hence, know all about our short comings, so we don’t need people to tell us what we lack. Just to state an example, the first time I drove a four wheeler, I didn’t need Abhishek to tell me I messed up. After me knocking down one pillar, two dust –bins and one professor and after the college Administrative department deducted Rs 4500 from my deposit money for reconstruction of pillars, Rs 100 for dust-bins (don’t know why they cared so much for dust-bins, even though they weren’t used much) and a sincere apology letter to the professor, I didn’t need anyone else telling me how chaotic my driving skills were.

So, if you are thinking of criticizing me, think again. And know it well that even though I would be smiling at you while you tell me what I suck at, from deep within I would be cursing you and you’ll always be the person who CRITICIZED me.

Another thing that I can not handle well is someone pinching me. I swear to god, I can never forget the day when on my B’day I wore a clean white new dress, when my best friend (I am forgetting her name) came from behind, pinched me from behind and yelled “new pinch”. Mind you, I can hold a sword with my bare hands for five hours (with my palms bleeding, of course) but I can never take a pinch. That was the day and today is the day; I have not spoken to her. And now it’s too late to make up for the loss considering I don’t even remember her name.

Can’t think of more stuff that I can’t handle well (except for my sister of-course)… for now, keep these in mind. :-)

That's how I gain points

2010-02-09T03:34:00.000-08:00

My mom is here in Ahmdabad giving me company. As much as I love her, I can not over look the ‘cleanliness freak’ and ‘organized’ her. Even before she was to arrive, I got up early and started cleaning my apartment. Trishna (my room mate) was so puzzled to see me cleaning that she thought I am under some sedatives and not realizing what I am upto. Else, which other person would puff the same cusions over n over again?

So while I was running at the station looking for my mom, I got a call from her telling me that she’s waiting at platform number 1. My heart pumped faster and I knew this wasn’t a good sign. She had reached before I did. That was minus one in her books.

From afar, I counted the pieces of luggage she had… there were 6 in all… not including her.

“I thought you will be leaving in a week’s time?” I asked.

“I’ll see how you’ve been managing uptil now and will decide accordingly”. She has a way about her that forces you to keep quite for at least ten minutes after she delivers a sentence, lest you kindle an erupting volcano. I kept quite.

In life there are moments when you gain points by arguing (like in a Placement Group Discussion) and there are moments in life when you gain points by keeping quite. I kept quite.

We reached auto rikshaw stand where drivers pounded on our luggage like it was their’s and started to yell “kahan jana hai” (where do you wanna go)? To avoid any more scenes, I quickly blurted “Manav Mandir Jaan hai”. Everybody then, started quoting prices. The scene was no less than a bid process, only difference being, here they couldn’t bribe us.

I pointed to a driver who had quoted the least and said “80 rupees theek hain.”
“What 80 rupees? Are you crazy?” I am not good in math so could only do a rough head- count to the number of people who turned their heads to see us…. Some 87 of them. Mind you, no one from her reaction could tell that she’s come to Ahmedabad for the first time. :-)

Somehow we managed to reach home and she saw my clean apartment. I can’t say much from her reaction but I think she liked it. I can say that coz she puffed (my already puffed) cusions only once. Dad will be arriving soon. I gotto plan to gain points there as well.

About the Dogs in my life

2010-02-04T02:07:00.000-08:00

How many of you, after reading the heading, thought this post is about my sister? I agree man is an animal (a few believe that even women are animals), but, I am in no way referring to her here.

Guess I should start with our first pet – Sandy. Don’t remember much about her, but I do remember her greeting guests by getting onto 2 legs and folding her hands, as though doing Namaste. Our dad not only managed to imbibe manners in us but also in Sandy. She was succeeded by Toffee, Pepsi, Tuesy and now Mishti. Our family is a dog lover family. Or should I say, they are “forced” dog lovers. I remember the first time Abhishek got me Mishti, this small little ball of fur who cudn’t even walk two steps without slipping, yet would try jumping off the basket she came in. When I took the basket to mama, she thought mishit was very cute, and asked me whose dog was it. I told her, it’s ours and that’s when the first blast came.

The series of explosions continued for about 4-5 months, where dad also suggested we should take her to the sai baba temple and leave her there. Somehow, it’s a very common phenomenon in Indian families, leave any unwanted child/ animal at the door steps of God and let him handle. Apparently, that’s where my parents found me too. Whenever, I misbehaved, my mom would threaten me to leave me back at the same temple where she found me. I was a smart child and gave it back to her once, “Ok, I’ll go where you found me from. Only the gold chain and bangles that I came with, return them to me”. Somehow, after that, this topic never came up.

Coming back to the topic “My parents being Dog lovers”, are now so fond of Mishti that now they don’t miss their own blood so much, since they always have Mishti around. This is how a usual conversation takes place at our home:

Me: Ma, I am coming home

Mom: Why, you just came 2 months back. At least give us some time to miss you

Ma: It’s been 4 months I was home

Mom: Oh! It’s been that long? Yeah, yeah, come down. Mishti’s stock of Chews, Shampoo, conditioner, and biscuits is almost over. Get the ones you got last time.

Now I am headed back home on 10th. My first bit of shopping would be for Mishti Jamwal and then for the rest of the family. I cant risk it!!!

Happening New Year!!!

2010-01-24T20:20:00.000-08:00

My apologies to those who religiously visit my blog (They being very few, I can’t afford to lose them). Life’s been very busy at work front. My Grandfather once told me that there are two kinds of people: those who work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was less competition there. I being the hard worker that I am have not been finding time at all for my FANs ;-) sorry once again.

My mom had conveniently convinced us how we always tend to remain in the same state of mind as on New Year’s Day. If you cry on 1st January then you end up crying the entire year, if you smile then that’s what you do for the rest of the year. If you study on that particular day then you’ll study the entire year. Now this looked like a fair deal. We had to study only for a day and rest will be taken care of.

This New Year’s Day, I consumed calories!!!! OMG! I am gonna do that for one whole year and yes, this is the year when my worst night mare comes true and I grow FAT.

All scared and panicy I went on a diet for a week. But the only thing I lost was the week…. Nothing else. I also vowed never to consume sweets and keep my hands off condensed milk. C’mon! Whom am I kidding? I have guzzled Condensed milk my entire child hood as it was delicious and FREE. Now it's a necessity to keep my taste buds alive.

So dieting was futile. The next best option would be to burn the calories I consume. I made a time table (reminds me of my school days when the only thing I would do was renew my time table). Wake up early morning, jog, yoga, meditate, work, walk, dance, yoga and sleep. The only thing that I am following now is “sleep”. Quite typical me. What was I thinking?

Now, the only option left is, rush to a temple now and pray to god to make all my other friends fat. If you are my friend, I am kidding about the last option… ;-) I am just signing off to WORK.
Cheers

While I was away!!!

2010-01-05T03:35:00.000-08:00

Gtalk Chat Window:

Me: Hey! I am coming to Jammu on 19th. So come to the Airport to receive me
Friend: tell me about your plan. Wait! I’ll call you
Me: No no, don’t call me. This new office is too small and I have to talk softly
Friend: hahahahaha
Me: ?
Friend: Talk softly? Is that even an option for you? You are so Loud!

My answer to that was, “You have to come to Jammu to see what is loud.”

So I was landing Jammu (Yes! It is safe to be there), after about 3 years. I have missed this place a lot; have missed all my cousins, my uncles, aunts, and all those Jamwals in Jammu who are distantly related to us. Somehow, EVERY person in Jammu has a story to narrate about my Dad’s notorious childhood. After all this is where my dad grew up and left his impact.

Coming back to the point, nothing much had changed there. People still living under the bridges, beggars with torn clothes everywhere (only now they had mobile phones), overcrowded tempos, and no electricity. Even the ditches were at the same place where I had left them (only they grew bigger in size). I headed my home.

The feeling of being amongst your own people is amazing. I have an elongated, extended family back in Jammu whom I haven’t met for the past 3 years. Those 3 years seemed like ages when I first saw my "kido" cousins for whom I had bought gifts from “Weekender Kids”. They have all grown to heights ranging from 5’4” to 5’9”. Somehow, I am the only one who stopped growing vertically after class V. Wonder if I can exchange those “kids” clothes for something my size.

My chachu’s (dad’s younger brother), grey head look took me by a surprise and made me wonder “How long was I gone?”. He who is 12 years younger to my dad has suddenly started looking 12 years elder to my grand dad. Not that he’s not charming anymore. He is very charming, but in a different league altogether.

The cousin, I have played “ghar- ghar” with, the one with whom I have grown up, is suddenly a mom. She was playing all mom duties, feeding the baby, instead of running around in the garden with her mom’s dupatta. She was behaving herself, instead of ringing stranger’s door bells and fleeing. She was a MOM. Those words are still ringing in my mind, and I think it’ll take some time to digest the fact.

The scene during nights was pretty much the same. Everybody comes over, dadima gets busy preparing tea and arranging for snacks, and then starts the “gossip” session. This ever lasting Gossip session is my best part. It makes me feel alive. Everybody shouting at the top of their voices from every corner, no body listens to anyone yet make their point, Dadima shouting from the kitchen, kids running around the room, chachu passing his invaluable comments in between which would crack up everyone and then that laughter (loud laughter) which continues for good about 10 minutes, till the time of next session. Ah!!! I simply love it.

Another part that I totally enjoyed was, everybody coming upto me and telling me how I have lost so much weight and have gone weak. According to some, it was the work pressure, to some I am not eating well, and to some I am worrying about my future too much. The fact they all are missing out is that I have been working too hard to lose weight. As long as, my hard work is showing, I don’t care what label they put to it.

I think the point that I am trying to make is, I loved every bit of being in Jammu (including the cold). For a North Indian turned South Indian like me, minus 5 degrees was unbearable. But I somehow managed to survive and come back alive. Or maybe that was because of the fact that I bathed once on Monday and was done for the week.

It was very cold. I was standing under the single ray of sunlightfrom that single ray, when a stranger walked upto me and asked, “Oh! You must be feeling very cold. Look at your lips, all blue”

Me: “Oh yes! I can’t stand winters”

Stranger: “yeah! People from the south usually cant. Where are you from?”

Me: “Jammu”

I should really visit Jammu often to save myself from such embarrassments.

My farewell speech

2009-12-02T21:07:00.000-08:00

I have never given a farewell speech but have always wondered how it would feel to give one. When Girika (Name changed to keep identity intact) was delivering her farewell speech, a series of questions kept racing my mind. Does she really mean what she is saying? Why the hell is she so thankful to her boss, the same boss who had made her life miserable here and is the reason behind her resignation? Does she realize that she is never going to see these people again in her life and this could be the only chance to outburst all the lava inside?

And now it was my turn. I had made up my mind to speak the truth and nothing else (unless somebody asked me about my age). The moment arrived. Everybody gathered in the conference hall and had laid down goodies to eat on the table, which included the chocolate balls that I had specially asked Binoy to order.

All eyes were set on me, and it was understood that they wanted me to speak first. I took a long, deep breath and the words came out of my mouth:

“Please pardon me if I choke with emotions, since I am very depressed about leaving this place… But to tell you the truth…” That is when my eyes whiz passed a big pack kept behind the table wrapped in shiny gift paper. This looked like my farewell gift. I had just three seconds to decide. I could either speak the truth and let the gift (which could be a diamond necklace wrapped in a big box) slip away from my hands or be sugar coated for the last time and win the gift for myself. I could do the second option since I have had 24 years of experience in that. So I continued:

“… this being my first work place will always be very close to my heart. I have loved and enjoyed every moment working with people here. It did take some time for this fact to dawn my senses that I’ll be moving out of this place. And I think it will take some time for me to fully recover from the tragedy.

I have learnt a lot here. This is one place where I could multi task. I could chat, be on the phone and check out those really funny forwards sent by Charmaine. And of course work at the same time”. That is when I heard someone say, “Yeah right!” But I ignored that and continued.

“There will be no more mini breaks near the coffee machine, no more gossip sessions, no more heated arguments at the lunch table on which is better ‘Police or Army’, because without a doubt Army is better. There will be no more loitering outside office to soak some heat, no more watching movies in office hours (not that we did that much) and of course, no more exchanging movies and ‘Big Bang Theory’ seasons.”

“It is a blessing to have a boss who is more of a friend. It really made my life easy here.” By this time I was already choking with emotions. That’s the time when I realized that I was, for real, leaving and this was my farewell. I’ll not be working here anymore. I was sad by this moment and was really going to miss this place.

“On a serious note, this was a wonderful place to work. And as I join Ahmedabad office, I’ll envy you all. Also, if anyone ever happens to visit Ahmedabad, please do let me know. I’ll be more than glad to host you all.” Though I don’t understand why I said the last sentence.

This was my farewell speech, which was followed by an even more senti speech by my boss and then an elongated snacks session. So elongated, that by now, the excitement to open my gift was dying. Finally people left me and my gift alone. I loved the 4 shirts that were inside the packet.

All in all, my last day in office was one of the best ones.

Back from Ahmedabad

2009-11-24T01:32:00.000-08:00

If you are a Gujju, with a weak heart and feel strongly for Ahmedabad, I suggest- stop reading further. Chances are that you will get up from your seat, throw away the chivda packet in your hand, call all your fellow Gujarati friends and pass judgment in Gujarati and then, when the anger subsides, you’ll again pick up the chivda packet and start munching on it, since Gujjus don’t believe in wasting anything that costs money.

So, I land in Ahmedabad, and see fog outside. Believe me, for a north Indian who is now settled in Mumbai (where it never gets cold. NEVER!), seeing fog was thrilling. My heart was pumping harder to get out of the plane and feel the weather. Everything was going perfectly normal. Just like any other airport, there were families waiting outside to receive their people. Most of them were FAT Gujju aunties, who had come to receive their dear ones with one BIG tiffin each, which I am sure, was loaded with Thepla and khakhra. Every family that came out had at least 4 huge cartons/ bags, which were piled up in one trolley blocking the view of the person pulling it. I sure have seen such scenarios in Punjab but that was quite some time back.

I then, headed towards my office (where Nirav was to give me contacts of some brokers); pretty much relaxed, since Binoy and Pratixa had assured me that finding an accommodation in Ahmedabad would be a cake walk.

Cutting the long story short, it was nothing like I expected. The city was over polluted. It was hot, maybe not as much as Mumbai. But still hot and dry. It seemed like a dead city. No life. Everything was moving in slow motion, like how they show in movies when the focus is to be on the actor and rest everybody is in standstill position. I met with almost 10 brokers who showed me nearly 40 places in 4 days and yet nothing worth it. It reminded me of the time I was looking for an accommodation in Mumbai. Only difference being, the situation now was even worse.

I could have killed Binoy for telling me the Ahmbad is a clean city. By no means did I find it clean. In fact, all the houses that I was taken to were in a run-down condition, shady looking and pan spits on the stair-cases with men in their banyans roaming in building corridors.

I also did get the luxurious opportunity to have lunch in Ahmedabad, (apparently, Ahmbad is known for its food). No doubt the food was delicious but I can’t let it go without narrating my experience at the restaurant. The place was overcrowded by a load of noisy, thick-armed women, who carried large heavy shopping bags and were accompanied by the ripe mixture of odor. While I stood in the buffet line, I couldn’t help but notice this lady’s plate who headed me. It merely had any place left, yet she struggled to fill it as much as possible when a voice came from around the corner,

“Madam, this is buffet system. We won’t charge extra if you come back for a second helping” (of-course the dialogues were in Gujarati)

Her square body remained ponderously immobile, but she turned her head around as far as her massive neck would permit and rejoined:

“Yeah, I know. I just didn’t wanna rise up from my seat once I am settled.” (Either she was making it up for saving herself from the embarrassment or she was too lazy)

After all the struggling with her food, she came to her table and narrated her little conversation with the waiter to her friends and added “As though I am dumb” at the end. All this was said in a tone intentionally loud enough to entertain everyone, and the women showed their appreciation by cackling loudly, rocking their bodies as much as the crowding permitted.

I then realized, Gujjus are all about FOOD.

With the intention of not hurting my Gujju readers’ sentiments, I shall not say anything controversial anymore, expect for narrate the following incident:

So I call up this broker whose name in his visiting card was printed as “Hasmukh Bhai”

Me: Hello! Hasmukh Bhai?

Him: Haan! Deepali Ben, bolo.

Ben, Ben, Ben… the word echoed in my head and I stood in a moment of shock till I shouted out “Dude! If you call me Ben, I am not gonna do any transaction with you”

Eeewww, if I stay here for long, I’ll become a Gujju ben. The thought scared the hell out of me.

At least one good has come out of my visit, I can read Gujarati now. Well!!! Do I have any other option? All the sign boards, all the hoardings, name plates and even big showroom names like Provogue and Nike were written in Gujarati. And then they talk about Raj Thackeray inexcusably promoting Marathi.

Ahmedabad awaits me!!!

2009-11-11T22:27:00.000-08:00

I knew I was God’s favorite child the day I instructed him to set the question paper for my History exam according to my preparation. He was kind enough and did exactly what I had asked. For some reason, other kids (who claimed they had slogged more) were upset over the fact that their hard work was all in vain. That day I knew that god was on my side.

Today again he has proved me right. I have detested Mumbai since the very first day, and my aversion is clear from all those post in the past describing Mumbai. Chances are, if you are a Mumbaikar, you will not like my blog and if you are not, then you’ll probably be able to relate to my posts. Also, I fear if my blog gets very popular and somehow Raj Thackeray reads it, I’ll be punished to either leave Mumbai or write all my posts in Marathi. (BTW I know the Abu Azmi incident was such a shame, but honestly I thought it was hilarious. It’s been a long time since I have seen such fights. Last time I saw it, I was in 9th standard and two boys fought over ice-cream. It was something similar).

As I was saying, I have tolerated this city for 1.6 years and am finally shifting out, to Ahmedabad. No, I am not getting married. This was the first thought that crawled minds of my warden, watchman, cook, my train- companions, and many others. Why can’t a girl as old as 18, be left alone from the thought of marriage? (Ok fine! I am 24). I am just shifting jobs.

At first I was reluctant to go to a completely new place. No friends, no relatives, no one known, no life, no alcohol, no non-veg. Even though I don’t consume alcohol or eat non-veg, I just thought of penning it down to illustrate what a DRY place Ahmedabad is. ;-). Pratixa, Nirav and Abhishek spent nearly a week in persuading me what a clean and desirable life Ahmedabad has to offer. Understandably so, since their home town is Ahmedabad, or is it because they cannot tolerate me here anymore and so much so, want me to leave the city altogether so that I am nowhere in their vicinity.

Whatever the case maybe, I am not as scared now. Maybe because I am more excited about the fact that I’ll finally get to stay on my own. The real-estate prices being so cheap, I can finally afford to rent an apartment and live by myself. No more yelling warden, no more irritating roommates, no more sharing my space, and no more interacting with people who get on my nerves but only because I have to stay with them, I have to be nice and sugar coated.

Lets see what is in store for me.
Wish me luck people!!!

Silly Me

2009-11-06T00:21:00.000-08:00

It so happened that I was sitting on Marine drive. For those socially unaware people, Marine drive is the place seen in most movies shot in Mumbai. One of the very FEW good places in Mumbai to visit. Actually, the ONLY good place to visit in Mumbai.

Coming back to the topic and not wasting another post on how filthy and smutty Mumbai is, I overheard this little girl ask her mom:

“Mom, why is it called Dandi March?”

“Beta, because Gandhiji walked all the miles with a stick in his hand”, her mom replied.

The little girl seemed to buy that answer while I smiled within me wondering how gullible this kid was. Or was it the conviction in her mom’s voice. (Or did her mom really think that ‘Dandi March’ has been named after a stick?)

Maybe, it was the conviction. What was I so amazed about? My mom had managed to pull the wool over my eye for a long time herself.

I remember admiring myself in the mirror as a kid (Yeah! Self obsession started at a very young age), and asking my Mom, “Mom, when did I get glasses?”

“It came free when you were born”, my mom said.
“Wow, God is so generous. He parceled me and my glasses at the same cost, with no extra charges.” I thought to myself.

Another time, when I had just learned the art of lying, I told my mom, “I have completed my home-work for the day. Can I please go and play outside with my friends now?”

“Since when have you started lying to me”, my mom yelled. Her voice loud enough to scare my friends waiting outside.

“How did you know I was lying”, I inquired. I was curious to know as it took a lot of skill for me to come up with that false.

“When you lie to your mom, your ears move”, she said with confidence shimmering in every word.

Hence, next time onwards, I would cover my ears with my palms and lie to her. That made it even easier for her to catch my lie. Bingo! She had managed to fool me yet again.

But I can’t blame her for all my silliness. Some of the instances didn’t involve my mom and yet I was silly. Like, I was in 9th standard when we bought our new computer. It was a huge box with millions of wires attached, an even bulkier CPU, keyboards with jumbled alphabets and a mouse which I wasn’t scared of. I took extra care of our computer and would clean it every day to prevent it from Virus attacks. Until I grew up and learnt that virus attacks are not caused by dust particles.

Also, whenever I read “Use dipper at night”, I thought it to be “Use diaper at night” and would wonder why do drivers need to wear diapers at night. Maybe because night driving is more difficult than day driving and the driver is more likely to get scared and wet his seat, making him even more uncomfortable.

“To Let” sign board, was always a spelling debacle for me. It should have been “Toilet”.

I realize I should end my post here, before I start embarrassing myself.

cya

On why I pity my kids

2009-11-02T23:24:00.000-08:00

My mom is a cleanliness freak. Had she left it to me, I would brush my teeth once a week, take bath on Sundays and save washed clothes only for parties.

My mom would find faults with everything. It would start as early as 6 a.m (that is pretty early for me) - and say: “I couldn’t get the stain of Frooti off your school uniform. What do you girls play with Frooti anyways?”

Bathrooms were a horror. Here are some of the sentences we got to hear…
“What? You just went inside. There is no chance you could have brushed you teeth the way shown at dentist’s clinic”

“Are you sure you had bath? Your towel it pretty dry.” (Damn it! Next time, I must at least wet my towel)

“The walls are all soap. Can’t you pour some water or be careful while bathing?” (What am I supposed to do? Lie down on the floor and take bath?)

“Did you notice the soap box? It is full of water!” (Mom, I was just trying to save water for the rainy day.)

And just when we were done with the ‘bathroom bashing’, and dressing up for school when she would barge in and say “Just look at your wardrobe.”

“Yeah, I saw… what is wrong?” I ask

“Now, look at mine. Everything is washed, ironed and kept properly,” she says.

“Yeah,” I reluctantly agree. More because, back answering your mom is considered rude. But in my defense, she is 28 years elder to me and has as much experience of keeping a clean wardrobe.

Now we move on to the breakfast table, where we get scolded for being magnanimous enough to drop a cereal for the ants that have formed a cantonment in our house. We also got berated for flushing away our milk, and for sharing our breakfast with our dog. Anything we did in our house was required to be done in another way- the supposedly cleaner way.

And what annoyed me the most was that I was expected to clear up the mess created by my little sister. She would give the crappy “You never did this when you were my age. I’ll learn when I am as old as you.” I would buy that, thinking that some day she will be as old as me. The naïve girl that I was, lived in this illusion but that day never came.

Now, I am nothing but a replica of my mom. A ‘cleanliness freak’. My children are gonna have a tough time. I pity them already.

Unbelievable

2009-11-02T22:13:00.000-08:00

China might be great in technology, US might be leaders in Science, and Singapore might top the developed country’s list. But there is one area where no one can surpass India. It’s ancient art. Without wasting space and time in explaining what I am talking about, I shall simply narrate an experience which kept me spell bound. This is how it goes:

Life has not been at its best for the past couple of months. Lots of queries about my future, my job, relationships, and many more, had clouded my mind. This is when I decided to visit ‘Nadi Jotish’, the much talked about topic amongst my friends circle. Even though my mom is a typical “How can this happen, when it wasn’t written in your kundali?” types and the types who would make you wear stones and rudraksh to keep the evil away from you, I have had very little faith in astrology. But I decided to give it a try.

So I enter the place and they ask for my thumb impression along with the initials of my name i.e. D P L, and asked me to wait for 15 minutes. While I waited outside, and had barely read 1 chapter of Chetan Bhagat’s “2 States”, I was called inside again.
“We have found your thumb impression”, a mellow voice came from behind me as I observed pictures hung in the room. He was a typical looking swami with long beard and moustache, draped in white dhoti and a shawl and smelling of chandan.

“What does that mean?” I enquired. Didn’t I give them my thumb impression myself? So what’s the big deal?

There lay a wooden log on the table with both of us sitting on either side.

“This has the some leaves in it. Out of these, one of the leaves will have your details.” He said, while pointing towards the wooden loaf.

“So let me get this straight. Are you trying to say that one of the leaves is mine? With my name, my past, my history and my entire life story encrypted on it?” I said inquisitively

“Yes, you just have to answer me in a “Yes” or a “No”” Swamiji said

“OK”. This was getting very exciting. I wanted to see if he will actually find my leaf. Despite the fact that I am no celebrity, I’ll have a leaf of my own.

He started questioning, turning each leaf ahead:
“Are you the youngest daughter?”
“No”
Next Leaf
“Are your parents separated?”
“No”
Next leaf… He had to turn about 20 leaves till he asked me, “Is your dad a govt servant?”
“Yes”
“Are you 2 sisters, you being the elder one?”
“Yes”
“Have you completed dual qualification?”
“Yes”
“Is your sister studying overseas?”
“Yes”
“Is your dad’s name Raj, Mum is called Geeta and sister is Shifali?”
“Unbelievable, how did you know?” I shouted in excitement while I got goose bumps on my arms.
“It is all written on this leaf”
“You mean my name along with my family’s name, my future, my past, everything?”
“Also your past birth and your future birth”

After that, he told me about my future, year by year. The year when I’ll be married, to whom I’ll be married, my future job, where will I be settled, etc. I don’t know how far is this gonna be true but I was truly astonished by the way he found me leaf.

My suggestion to you people: Even if you do not wanna know about your future, at least go there once to check out that there exists a leaf which has your details on it written ages back by some saint. Isn’t that amazing in itself?
India is India!!!

Tough Decisions!

2009-10-27T01:40:00.000-07:00

You could be an Ambani, but there are going to be times when you are at the crossroads wondering…what shall I have now…tea or coffee?

Of course, the Ambanis have bigger issues to sort out but my point is…however powerful you are…there are some tough decisions that have to be taken. Take me for example: I have got feedback from readers of my blog that I should not write ‘long’ posts. While some felt that it was funny, many thought it was too long to hold on a person’s attention.

Even though people "think" that, ‘Deepali cannot handle criticism well’ (this being one of them); I am always open to suggestion provided it is put forward politely and non-offensively ;-)

Though I get lots of appreciation and mails everyday telling me how good my blog is, (I am not making it up), for the sake of those lazy readers who want me to cut short the length of my posts, I shall try it for some time. But if I don’t get a good response, then I am not to be blamed ;-)

Since we started with the Ambanis, I suggest we end with them….Ambanis.

Yours Truly,
Deepali

Ritu's perfect family

2009-10-08T04:30:00.001-07:00

I was always told that life changes after marriage. It was always emphasized that we lose our freedom, we tend to get irritated, there is continuous nagging and demanding, and we are expected to be more responsible. People also told me that they tend to eat more and gain weight after marriage (maybe out of depression).

But one thing they forgot to mention was “All the above is subject to conditions”.
When Ritu got married, all of us lost hopes. Our reactions were something like this “Today this has happened to her. Tomorrow, it’ll be our turn. No one will be able to escape”. “Spend as much time with her as possible; she won’t be the same after this anymore”. “She is a strong girl! She will be able to survive”.

After her Wedding Day, things changed. We didn’t speak to her often. She was not to be seen in any of the get togethers. We celebrated B’days without her. It was hard to believe that the, once- upon- a- time- party- girl is missing out on so much. “Maybe she is caged” was the most common thought.

Recently I got a chance to visit Nagpur and Ritu insisted I stayed with her. I would have denied her offer (since she stays with her in-laws), but accepting it would mean, saving on my hotel accommodation+ getting to play with her St Bernard. I simply accepted it.

Little did I know what was in store for me. I had the most wonderful time of my life in these 3 days. In Dinesh’s (Ritu’s beloved husband) words “3 Nights and 1 day” (Since 2 days, I was busy doing, what I actually went there for, “industrial visit”). Not only did I make wonderful friends, I also got to experience what it is to be like in the company of super rich yet down to earth people. I have had loads of filthy rich friends, but none of them with such humility and modesty.
Dinesh, his brother, mom and dad were the most humble people I have ever come across. They were so soft spoken that even if I whispered, I was the loudest. They were like one of those families where all the brothers of the family have bungalows in the same compound wall; where the whole family (joint) sits, eats, plays and work together; where a daughter-in-law is more loved and cherished than their son; every event (be it a b’day or a marriage) is celebrated whole heartedly, everyday is an occasion. In short, like one of those Rajshri Production movies. I was really happy for Ritu, because not only has she got the perfect (literally) husband, but also a wonderful family, who doesn’t even care if she can’t speak Marwadi or can’t cook.

All that a girl ever wants from her married life is that her husband should consider her family as his and love them equally, who respects her parents, talks to them more often than her, tells them that they haven’t lost a daughter but have got a son instead. Lucky Ritu, she’s got a husband like this. Apart from that, as a complimentary gift she also got a brother-in-law who is equally loving, friendly and affectionate. He is those kinds who never make you feel out of place (a little like me…;-))

I played, laughed, gossiped, watched movies, drove BMW, and fooled around. I got immense love from her family. Being the non- expressive person that I am, through this post I would wanna tell them what a wonderful time I had with them and wish for all prosperity in their lives. Also now I am finally relieved and can formally announce that “Ritu is in safe hands”. ;-)

Last One Month

2009-09-28T23:07:00.000-07:00

Apologies to all those readers who religiously visit this blog expecting a post(i.e. if such readers exists), and for others who have better things to do in life, I sincerely request you to visit this blog frequently coz every time you visit some amount will be contributed towards “Akanksha”, for under privileged kids. And for those who believed that crap, “Gotcha!!!”

Last one month has been very eventful, particularly for me. First YSR goes missing, followed by my Birthday, then a 4 day long DSN course (Art of Living), Dance Premier League (DPL) auditions, movie releases, my boss leaves for Singapore for 2 whole weeks, Jayapradha in tears, Purvi won a cycle for herself and finally a trip to Nagpur (Official cum social). Too much for a person to handle, isn’t it?

Especially the YSR chapter. It was such an eye opener, both spiritually and socially. Wondering what I am talking about?

Spiritual Side: No matter what position/ power you are at, you can not escape death.

Social Side: “My friends cared for YSR more than me”. They even forgot to wish me on my b’day.

This is what happened when Vani called me towards the dusk of 3rd September.

Vani: “Hi! Happy B’day”
Me: Thanx, but why didn’t you call me last night. I was expecting your call
V: Yaar! YSR is missing. I was tensed
M: So tensed that you forgot about my B’day
V: He is our CM. I am concerned about him. I was glued to TV all night watching the news and trying to figure out what possibly could have happened. And most importantly will it be declared an off tomorrow?
M: Oh! That’s sad. But what is the scene now? I mean, after the news that he is dead.
V: Ah! Pretty much what I expected. It’s a holiday. I know I shouldn’t be saying this, but I didn’t like YSR much. I preferred Chandrababu Naidu. But that does not mean that God had to kill him for this.

This was followed by my B’day. I had the most amazing b’day this time. The excitement of my B’day is directly related to the gifts I get. (Yes! It still does matter).

Then I was busy doing an Art of Living course, which I am not gonna talk about. Not because I am bored but coz I do not have words to pen down my experience. Those who have done their DSN, I did it with Anand Rajendraji. It was ekdam Jhakaassss

Okay! I am not gonna make this post long and boring. To cut long things short, following are one liner about the eventful month:

• Purvi (My extended room mate) won a cycle for herself out of raffle ticket (Can you believe it? Such things never happen to anyone closely or distantly related to me. Maybe this means that the curse has been removed). We were just very busy making plans of where all to go cycling and following a healthy life style by commuting to work on it, when we were told that we wont be allowed to keep it in our Hostel. She had to sell it off the very next day she got it.

• I auditioned for DPL. You’ll see it on air in the near future, so I am not gonna talk about it much

• My boss left for Singapore for 2 whole weeks. Do you even know what that mean?

• I’ll be leaving for Nagpur tonight. This is more of a vacation than an official trip. Here is what happened:

Boss: Deepali, you have to make a visit to Butibori and Hingna next week.
Deepali: (I am too lazy for any visits) Sir, I have some personall commitments. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it
Matter closed
Deepali, checks online and figures out that these 2 places are very close to Ritu’s (My old roommate and very close friend) house.
Deepali: Sir, I have decided to give my personal commitments a back seat and go for the visit
Boss: (What a dedicated employee)

- Rest when I get back. Keep visiting

I hate Albums

2009-08-31T00:23:00.000-07:00

Albums…no.. albums. Yeah, albums. I hate albums. Especially if they do not belong to me.

I hate them so much, that I have even stopped visiting my friends and relatives. Here is what happened when I last visited a friend’s place. (name kept confidential to prevent the person’s identity)

It all started because Prachi (Lets say), my friend wanted to take a whole lifetime to get dressed for dinner. I being the punctual person, reached bang on time to discover she had just gone to take a bath. After she slammed the bathroom door shut, I turned towards the Femina magazine lying around and buried myself deep into it. I still cannot fathom what made her mother to think that I was bored. She walked up to me, with something that seemed like a pillow from a far.

“You have not seen Viren’s marriage photographs have you?”

Viren was Prachi’s brother (or sister? Can never tell). I hated him. One he wasn’t that cool that he thought himself to be, and two he hated me coz he thought I was the reason behind his sister’s low grades.

Even before I could lie that I had seen it before, and liked it, she was beside me on the couch. She was excited and understandably so. Viren was her only son and his marriage was probably her biggest single achievement in life. But why the &^%$ did she think I would be interested, I would never know.

“Nice couple, heyn?” She asked.

“Yeah. They look so happy at the moment. Poor Chap! Doesn’t know what’s in store for him,” I said. I got a cold stare, but the torture went one.

Pointing to a picture of a man and woman who looked like they were straight out of X-Files, she said: “That is his in-laws. Nice people. They even bought me a saree.”

“Wow. Great.”

“Ho… you should see the color of the saree. It is amazing. You don’t get these colors south of Baroda. Will show you the saree next time, I washed it in the morning and it might be wet.”

I let out a sigh. It was a close shave.

“Or would you want to come to the terrace?”

“No aunty, that is fine. Prachi has anyways come out,” I blurted out in sheer desperation. She was my ticket to freedom, and I was going to use her as a human shield wherever necessary.

By now, Prachi had come out. She saw me looking thro’ the album, and shouted at the top of her voice: “Mama, show her the one where I am wearing the pink lehanga. Ohh…Deeps that’s a killer.”

I tell you, it’s a sin to be punctual in this era

18 Till I Die

2009-08-27T23:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, while filling up a form, I had to tick beside the check box of age group 18- 24. That is when it struck me, I am gonna be 24 and in a year I’ll be checking in 25-30 Years Age Group. As if somebody just smacked me with a bulky and solid rod of reality leaving me spell bound. I went into flash back trying to figure out, where I lost my years from 18 to 23.

Time seems to have stopped when I was 18. It was just yesterday when we had those sleepless nights one day before exams, when we were bumped out of class for being naughty, when we would lie to our parents for catching up with friends, bunking classes for watching movie on the first day, line up outside Principal’s office, those morning assemblies, morning prayers, House on duty, wrong uniform line, forging parents signatures on report cards, promising ourselves to perform better next time, gossip sessions outside cycle stand for hours after school, punctured tires, ripped seats, wet paper ball games, evening tutorials, preparing time tables one month before exams, re-scheduling time table every day, messed up room, yelling mom, no sense of responsibility, secret crushes, borrowing money from friends to lend another friend, spending more time in canteen/ foot ball ground than in classes yet giving lectures to juniors on importance of attending class, tension before results, declaration of results, comparing marks, promoted to next year, parties, night outs… blah blah blah…. I can go non-stop but that’s not what this post is about.

I have all these memories so clear in my mind that I seem not to have grown beyond 18. I have never thought of myself as a working woman, always considered myself as a kid. I am still the same as I was 6 years back (not including the extra kilos), only with some sense in my, then, empty head; an ounce of responsibility and slight maturity.

I have always known my age but it’s only when those small irritating kids of passengers travelling with you call you “Aunty” that you realize you are no more 18. In 6 days I’ll be 24. Where did time fly, where was I all this while. Is this some kind of time- travel, or was I sleeping while growing old and putting on weight? I guess when they say “a person is as old as he feels” holds true. Can’t believe I am saying this coz when I was 18 and someone said:

“Age is what you feel it to be”, I would say “yeah right!!! Grow up!!!”

When they would say, “That man never grows old who keeps a child in his heart”, I would say, “Cut the crap!!!”

Well! I was naïve back then. And Now:

“Wanna stay young for the rest of my life,
Never say “no”- try everything twice,
Till the angles come, and ask me to fly,
I’m gonna be 18, till I die.”
---- Brian Adams

It’s very difficult for me to grow old coz I have a child alive in me, I have a heart full of love in me. As I grow old I realize that I love those most whom I loved first, my family (that includes Mishti). Age is merely an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. Plus I can’t stop time. Everybody is bound to grow old, but we have an option of staying young.

“We don't stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”
---- some wise person

National Concern

2009-08-24T04:01:00.001-07:00

I am glad our National animal is a Tiger. It is proud animal, just like we Indians. While I understand, beauty is but skin deep (never really seen a skinned tiger), I would still say tigers are beautiful animals.

Wonder what would have happened if a Pig was our national Animal? Or for that matter a Donkey…or a Mule. Or how about a Mouse? A dog? Or a skunk?

I would not want to live in a country where the National emblem has a Mouse. Would be a big let down for all Indians, except Lord Ganesha, who would love to see his vahanam being patronized.

A Donkey would not make a good sight on our coins and rupee notes. Agreed the merchants in Tamil Nadu display a donkey’s picture in their shops to boost sales (I am not making up this belief), yet, I do not think he would look good on a coin.
Imagine Indian cricketers sporting a skunk on their chest when they enter the field to take on Australia. The Kangaroos would run away. For the uninitiated, skunks are small beings that let out a very stinky substance when challenged and you are doomed for life….well almost …because it will take you a fortnight to get rid of the stink. That is, if you take bath daily in tomato juice.

Everything said and done, am glad our National Animal is not Man. Would have complicated things!

The Art of Living

2009-08-19T23:19:00.000-07:00

Today I am gonna write about something that I truly believe in. The Art of Living organization. All those who know the person that I am, would also know that I was never a person who could sit at one place and meditate. I was never a person who could maintain peace of mind. I was always worked up. With my mind always racing and tension always surrounding me, I could never relax or be at peace. This would agitate the anger in me and as a result I would always end up blasting my loved ones. (Especially my mom, since she was the easy target).

Then I was introduced to Art of Living. (Thanks to Aatish and Jayesh). When I first heard of it, the first thought that came to my mind was “Ramdev Baba” from “Aastha Channel”. Only I know how much it annoys me when my mom turns on that channel while he is preaching. With all due respect, I personally am not fond of people who preach, for two reasons; one, it’s boring and two; I don’t think they themselves follow what they preach. I mean, it’s very simple to say “Expectations reduces joy, so do not expect”. But at one level, all of us do expect from our surroundings. Don’t we? If a human stops expecting from the people around them, from the surroundings, we would not be humans but would be considered God. This is all that I tried explaining Jayesh, but he won’t listen. All he said was, “Come, do the course and then we’ll talk”. It was pointless arguing with him, so I attended the course.

Four days (or was it five?), changed the person that I was. Now I was much more relaxed, calm and peaceful. I was in a state, which in older times was achieved by saints after years of meditation. Contrary to my personality, now I was more cool, composed and yet cheerful, joyous and happy. I could now smile in every situation. I could now face trouble with a smile. All this in just 4 days. It was beyond my expectations. There was no preaching what so ever. All we did was breathe. It was simple. I was surprised to know what I was missing in life. I was happy (not that I wasn’t happy before), but this happiness was combined with peace of mind and no botherations at all. In short, I was happier. Apart from all the above I got a Guru. H.H. Sri Sri Ravishankar. He is fondly called Guruji, since he is the master who has guided our lives in this direction.

I am writing all this today coz a few days back I convinced one of my friends to do this course and she came to my room to discuss her experience yesterday. She felt the exact same thing that I had experienced (and still am). I could feel the change in her. She was smiling, like never before. She was calm and had no thoughts bothering her. I repeat, the experience is beyond explanation. I could see that she was full of gratitude for me, since I made her do the course. It wasn’t actually me. It was her Karmas. She was handpicked to do the course, me being just the medium.

Just wanna tell you all, that there exists such a course which has an answer to all your botherations, to all the queries that you have always had. All you need to do is make an effort to go and sit in the course and rest all will be taken care of. Do it to know you better. From your entire lifetime, just devote 4 days for yourself. You have spent all these years for worldly possessions, now it’s time for yourself. Go for it. It will rock your world and teach you the Art of Living. For all you intellectual people who think that they are smart enough and already know the Art of Living, In Jayeshs’ words, “Come, do the course and then we’ll talk”.

I am 755837839th richest person in the world!

2009-08-18T03:15:00.001-07:00

I have always knows richness as a relative term (it brings so many relatives with it). But, my dad being in the Indian Army, we never got an opportunity to mingle with our relatives. Guess, that explains my eagerness in finding out where I stand in the big bad world and how many relatives am I blessed with.

I have always wanted to begin this journey of finding out how many people are richer than me, but the moment I would hear about the rising population of world, my enthusiasm was curbed. Knowing fully well that I will never be able to complete this survey a gentle person created this website. The journey will end tonight… at the doorsteps of a website.

I’m the 755837839 richest person on earth! Check out this website to feel good about yourself and I am sure you'll stop cribbing about your pay package.

http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Funny, I felt happy after trying out the website’s “Find out how rich are you” calculator. Man! Didn’t know I was this rich. Neither did I know the world was this poor!

With the pittance that I get in my company, I have managed to beat so many people from all over the World, in the income stakes. To be precise, I am amongst the top 12.59% richest people in the world. Phew, and I thought I was bankrupt! This definitely calls for celebration!!! Cheers

Sisterly Love

2009-08-13T02:29:00.000-07:00

I went back to my room. Everything was just perfect, at the right place. My room looking clean, like never before. Those yellow curtains brightened up my room leaving the dazzling sunlight behind them. The room looked attractive with pink bed sheets and neatly arranged belongings. The mesmerizing fragrance of incense sticks increased the already existing aroma of my room. Everything looked fantastic. Yet, something was missing. Something was incomplete. Ah! It was her. I could feel her absence.

The moment I dropped her to the station, I had tears in my eyes. I am sure her heart was heavy too. But since we are, “Oh! Don’t be too sentimental” sisters, and “I am not dying, just going away for a while” sisters, and “We don’t hug each other enough but we have immense love for each other” sister, so no one spoke anything to each other. Last time when we expressed our love for each other, that I can remember, was, when Shanu mailed me from Singapore “Di, Thanks for all the love you showered at me in the form of unlimited shopping while I was there in Mumbai. I love you and I hope you know that, so we shall not discuss this mail hereafter”

She was in Mumbai only for 3 days and I re-lived my past in these 3 days. I had everything planned. Places to visit, movies to watch, shopping to do, everything was scheduled time to time. Even though most of it didn’t tally with my schedule, we did manage to have a lot to fun and I am sure she experienced my LOVE again. Can’t believe 4 days back I was full of enthusiasm and excitement, running all over the city, making plans, re-stocking my room with chocolates, collecting her favorite movies, and now she’s gone.

The first time she left for Singapore, I cried my eyes out. I was nothing without her (I still am not). When I was down with Jaundice, she would attend my classes. She would lose weight if I was sick. She would motivate me to study. She would guide me in every step. She would improve my fashion- sense. No one could tell that she is my younger sister (of course! height parameter not being considered). And then, when I received her first letter, I was thrilled. Almost in tears, my hand shivering with excitement, I managed to read the first sentence which read “Di, please don’t cry on reading this”, and I burst into tears. I finally had to take help of my friend to read out the letter to me.

I know I don’t say it enough, and I also know that you are very much aware of the fact that “U R my favorite” (of course! After me)… But here, I just wanna let u know that I love you beyond limits and that u r my inspiration in whatever I do. I would be nothing without you. And also let you know that I am all senti right now, so you can ask for how much ever LOVE you want, before the moment dies….

It's all about Communication

2009-07-30T03:15:00.000-07:00

I am missing Tina toady. It’s her birthday. Even though I shared my room with her only for 4 months, the time spent with her has become immortal. She was a mallu who could hardly speak hindi, hardly being an understatement. During our stay together my only ambition was to be able to converse with her in Hindi and her ambition being, converting me into a mallu. One of these times we went for a movie together.

Movies are communications they say. But that day I saw one, and the director failed to communicate anything to me. The heroine was pretty. The hero was a male version of Preety Zinta - chubby and energetic. And the movie was colorful. But that was all I could gather from the 22 reels shown to me.

When translated into English the movie meant - Two eyes. Ironically, that was exactly what it meant to me - visuals. Mere visuals, and nothing else.

I sat there like a just born baby, just going through the motions. I did not understand the language being used. The elders went about their job. A few laughed, a few cried, but it meant nothing to me. I was straight faced. Atleast till they announced the interval.

After five minutes of `good time` the movie started again. And again, as was expected, I was ignored.

Luckily, I had not paid for the tickets. Moreover, I was paid Rs 200, to be present for the movie. Actually, I had turned into a mercenary, for I was doing things I did not like, just for money.

With experience to back the long time belief I had held, I decided not to watch a malayalam movie, until I learnt the language.

But how do I learn the language? I went about asking Tina, and here is the advice as I got it - “Dude, watch a lot of malayalam movies, and in no time you will be able to comprehend the language.”
Yeah, Right!

Best Moments in Life

2009-07-20T02:23:00.000-07:00

So this is one of those days in my life where I am forced to wonder “What the hell am I doing with my life?” Usually when I get such mood swings I talk to people who are out of work or I start looking for different options in life, then I chalk out a PLAN for myself, write it down on the “To do” list, call up people who can help me achieve this and surf the net (and people say that I don’t make an effort!!!). And after a while, when this feeling is gone I resume back to my work and file the list in my “Things to do before I die” list.

But today I plan to do something different. I need to bring a change to my tedious “Get over it” routine. I plan to list down all the things that make me cheerful and rejoice. So here it goes: Times when I….

1. Laugh until it hurts my stomach
2. Find mails from hundreds of people when I return from a vacation
3. Times when RJs play my favorite songs one after another
4. Wake up and the first thing I see is beautiful weather outside.
5. Leave the shower and find that the towel is warm
6. Find the pages of my book BRAND NEW just before the exam and then I decide to switch to last 3 year’s solved question papers.
7. Receive a call from a loved one , out of the blue, just to say “I Miss You”
8. Find money in my pant that I haven’t used since last year.
9. Bunk college coz of my Bad Hair Day
10. Times when my calls at midnight would last for hours
11. Times when I would laugh without a reason
12. Times when I accidentally hear somebody say something good about me.
13. Times when I wake up and realize it is still possible to sleep for a couple of hours.
14. Times when I hear a song that makes me remember a special person.
15. Times when I was a part of a Gang
16. Times when I watch sunset from the hill top
17. Times when I make new friends
18. Times when I feel butterflies in my tummy everytime I would zoom down a slope
19. Pass time with my best friend
20. Use a sweater of a special and find that it still smells of their perfume.
21. See an old friend and to feel that things have not changed
22. Laugh…. Laugh…. And laugh…. Remembering stupid things done with stupid friends

Ah! My intuition was right. Change does make you feel good… Now I’ll have to think of something different to do when I get my next attack.

Jacko Wacko

2009-06-30T21:21:00.000-07:00

Long Long ago, an inquisitive boy asked his dad, “Dad, is God Black or White?”

“My Dear Child, God is neither Black nor White”, answered his Dad with a smile on his face.

“Dad, is God Male or Female?” The child asked out of curiosity

“Son, God is neither Male nor Female.” Replied his dad.

The next day, this kid goes upto all his friends and says “I know who is God. It’s Michael Jackson.”

That was the day when entire Gamut of people started worshiping King of Pop. He was indeed a King. He changed the definition of Music. There was a time when one could see kids moon walking to their class rooms. 7 out of 10 kids would dress up like MJ for a fancy dress competition, not only because they admired him but because he was the easiest to replicate. Long curly hair shabbily tied with one streak of hair falling on forehead, lotsa powder on face, Dark Red Lipstick, white shirt, black over coat, black trousers upto ankles, White Socks, Black Shoes and a Black hat. That is all you needed.

I have always known MJ and heard his music, but it was only during MBA days that I actually observed him and started admiring him. Thanks to Debu, who was glued to MJ. He would make us sit in front of his Laptop while he played MJ’s videos. And when we tried to protest, he would threaten us in MJ Thriller style… Debu was right… This guy did dance like a melted piece of butter falling off a spoon. But I wasn’t the only one who had been inspired by Micheal Jackson. A Telugu movie director made his own Indian version of ‘Thriller’ and the video on Youtube has got 15,741,543 views. (Code word: Indian Thriller)

Apparently, in the late 80s the comedians the World over had started to target Michael Jackson. He was an easy butt-end for various jokes…what with skin color, skin condition, child molestation controversies, his pet monkey which used to sleep in a crib inside his bedroom, his Peter Pan pretensions, his ranch called Neverland, his military clothes, etc.

The first Michael Jackson joke I heard was:

Question: “How does Michael Jackson pick his nose?”
Answer: From a catalog.

Now since he is dead he is free from all those controversies. I am sure they’ll accept him well in Heaven. (They do accept Plastic right?)

Little Drops From Heaven

2009-06-25T02:27:00.000-07:00

After days of sulking in hot sun, continuous praying to the rain god and non-stop cribbing about the constant rising heat, rain birds have finally shot their arrows at the clouds and inaugurated the much awaited monsoons. Hooray!!! It rained yesterday. Mumbaikars finally had a smile on their faces, everybody seemed to be rejoicing. I could see people sitting in their balcony and admiring the little rain drops from heaven. The weather was never so romantic and never so pleasant. This was the time to go out with a loved one for a long drive on a bike or simply take a stroll in the rain while holding hands. The entire evening was so peaceful and soothing. The scene was a feast for the eyes and treat for ears.

While I stood in my veranda and saw children of the colony came out to play football in the rain, I extended my head and opened my mouth to catch a few drops. It was delicious, much more than any exotic ice cream. The ‘first rain scent’ or as we call it ‘mitti ki khushbu’ is much more enjoyable and pleasurable than any exclusive Aroma.

To some, rains bring joy by its aesthetic appeal but to some it has negative effect. Rain metaphorically has a sad connotation- reflected in children’s rhymes like “Rain Rain Go Away”- in contrast to the bright and happy sun. While some people play and dance in the rain, some prefer to shut their doors and windows and stay inside their houses.

Ever wondered what would happen if there were no rains? Except for the ecological imbalance, what would be the other consequences? Rain coats and gum boots would seem pointless, there would be no fun in jumping into a puddle and slashing nothing at people, we would never experience the joy of having garam pakodas and sipping hot tea at a roadside tapri with friends. We would never get to see a rainbow (not that we get to see that in Mumbai anyways). Romance in hindi movies would be in hot sun under a tree; songs like “tip tip barsa pani”, “rimjhim rimjhim”, and “dekho barish ho rahi hai” wouldn’t make sense. Mumbai would never get flooded and we will have to work without expecting an off. There’ll be no more paper boats floating on stagnant water and no more wet football grounds.

I personally love rain, as long as I don’t dirty my clothes on my way to work.

World gets blurred without them

2009-06-16T23:02:00.000-07:00

My Grandmother is over eighty and still doesn’t need glasses. Drinks right out of the bottle.
- Henny Youngman (1906 - 1998)

I have been wearing glasses (not the whiskey ones) since I was in class IX. As proof I even have a mark on the bridge of my nose. My glasses have now become an indispensable part of my life. My mother, when she wakes up in the morning, first thing, she folds her hands and prays to god. My morning begins with a hunt for my glasses; else I won’t be able to see God.

As a kid, I have always wished for glasses. I was awestruck with those big sunglasses Karishma Kapoor and Divya Bharati would wear, making it a style statement. When I put my desire of buying similar sunglasses, my mom bluntly refused saying that I was too young for Fashion. (I wonder what the right age is for Fashion). That is when it struck me that spectacles are no different from sunglasses.

Anyways, so after years of rigorous practice, watching TV in the dark, studying with my book almost touching my nose, etc. Finally in IXth standard, during our medical check up, I was unable to read the alphabets on doctors’ screen. Even though I had mugged up the order of alphabets, being the honest person that I am, I was true to myself and the doctor and finally was declared half blind.

My parents were then called to school by my class teacher.

“Please, get her glasses… I don’t think she can see what I write on the black board” she told my mother.

I interfered, “Madam, will I be able to read after I start wearing glasses?”

“Sure Deepali. Why not?” My teacher was very encouraging.

“Because my mother thinks one needs to learn ABCD… before one can start reading.”

Anyway, like I was saying… the first time I landed at an Optician for my pair of glasses, my father looked at a few spectacles, placed a fewer still on my nose and looked at me from far and near… and then handed me a pair that were NOT so cool. They were big, round, Grandpa Type spectacles which would cover my entire face. Sure I wanted those BIG sunglasses, but the time gap from when I prayed for them and now was tremendous and they were out of fashion. I told this to my dad, but according to him “Fashion moves in a cycle, and after a couple of years, these spectacles will be in style again”. So I was supposed to wait for that time with this bulky asset on my nose.

If you are somebody who has spent a good amount of time with bad eyes but no spectacles, you will agree that the world becomes a lot more colorful and clearer with glasses on the bridge of your nose. I could see everything now. So much so, I could see right through peoples’ character. During our exam, I could see Mahesh, my desk-mate, copying word-to-word of what I wrote. Earlier I always thought he was just being nice and trying to see, if I had copied the question correctly from black board.

Spectacles help build a person’s character. I learnt this fact when I had to go on stage and give a speech in school. I decided to go on without my spectacles, so I couldn’t see people making faces and boo hooting me. That’s when everybody thought that I was a very confident person and it boosted up my morale.

It’s been 10 years now (a few years of contact lenses in between) that my eyes have been through good and bad times. And after so many years of different frames, I have again shifted back to my first type, “Grandpa Type”. But a lot more classier.

Betty is the one

2009-06-09T22:19:00.000-07:00

I have known him for long… Even before Monica, Rachael, Joey, Phoebe, Chandler and Ross became a part of my life and yet prior to I started relating to the characters of “Hip Hip Hooray”, a show aired on Zee TV about school life. I became so addicted to it, that there was one point of time I could hallucinate the characters around me. I wished that somehow, my actual friends get replaced by these characters (even though I don’t remember their names now). And even before I had a crush on Salman Khan… I have known and loved Archie Andrews. So much so, that I had a copy of Archie in Bathroom, a copy under my pillow, in my books, in my drawer, in my bag, in TV room…

Archie was the coolest guy ever. Only he is the one who can date one girl each night without annoying the previous ones. Only he is the one who can play pranks on his school principal and get detained every week, yet be his favorite. Only he is the one who can hang out late with his pals and not bother about his home work, since Betty is there to take care of it. Only he is the one who does not have to bother about money matters, Ronnie is always there to help. He has the best friend Jughead, who would even fall from a cliff for him (at yet not be hurt). He is the hero of Riverdale.

For those who have no clue, what I am talking about, Archie Comics is all about school friends, how they live, eat, stay, behave, fight, love, hate and relate to each other…all done in a tasteful manner!

Here is a quick introduction of the main characters:

• Archibald “Archie” Andrews, main character, a typical red- headed teenage boy with a great interest in dating. He tends to be clumsy and accident prone.

• Elizabeth “Betty” Cooper, the blonde girl next door, who is a good student, athlete, cook, and auto mechanic. She is very obsessive over her major crush, 'Archie Andrews'.

• Veronica “Ronnie/Ron” Lodge, the rich, sometimes nice and sometimes snobbish girl. Betty's best friend and rival for Archie's affections.

• Forsythe Pendleton “Jughead” Jones III, Archie's best friend, Jughead is sarcastic, obsessed with eating, lazy, and apathetic towards girls; however he is also portrayed to be very clever and knowledgeable on a wide variety of subjects, being second only to Dilton Doiley.

• Reginald “Reggie” Mantle III, the vain and conceited practical joker who thinks he can date anyone he wants.

I grew up my teens with these characters… They were like my own friends. I ate, cried and laughed with them… I have loved them all. I have admired Betty and Veronica. How can they manage to look beautiful even while they are asleep?

But somehow, I have always been a bit partial to Betty than Veronica. And now after 65 years, since Archie has chosen Veronica over Betty, my heart goes out for poor Betty. She has always been around Archie, religiously done his home work, cooked food for him when he was kicked out, helped him wash his dads’ car… she has been like that Vodafone pug (followed him wherever he went), yet the current recession took a toll on Archie and he chose money over true love.

I cant wait for August issue to read what happens next. But I do pray that Archie, towards the end, realizes that Betty is the one for him…

What an Encounter!!!

2009-06-01T22:20:00.001-07:00

I have always wanted to meet God. I belong to the generation that grew up watching Arun Govil and Deepika together on Television – as Lord Rama and Sita in Ramanand Sagar’s Ramayan - and thus started to associate them with God. If you are as old as I am, you probably remember that Arun Govil and Deepika were hounded with agarbathis and aartis wherever they went….but I didn’t go that far. The 10 year old that I was, I just gave them the God status.

As a kid, I had asked for a big pink colored Barbie house from God, but he didn’t oblige and instead settled me down for a small Barbie caravan. So when he didn’t listen to me, I started considering Nitish Bharadwaj (the guy who played Krishna in TV Serial, Mahabharata) as real God.

When Lord Krishna also spurned my advances and didn’t deliver when it mattered most- national painting award- I realized Nitish wasn’t God either.

With time, I stopped looking for God, when I realized I was God myself. But that too faded away, when I started working. I met a few people who thought they were God… but none good enough to be placed on a pedestal. Some of these people were way up the corporate ladder and could make a difference in my career… so I stayed in touch with them. As for the rest, who cares for the sages when you have the Gods in your pocket?

To cut the long story short, my search for God ended last evening. I met him. Yes, it was a him. A very handsome one. Tall, Fair and Handsome.

I was on the way back from my office when I saw this man in white, in the middle of the road. I stopped by him and shouted “Don’t tell me you want to die so young?”
“I have no death young girl”, his voice seemed to have an echo that I hadn’t heard anywhere before.

I looked around… there was nobody on the road. I looked at the man, and he was looking attractive. I wasn’t surprised. If I were God and was creating myself, why wouldn’t I make myself another Aishwaraya Rai?

I somehow summoned up enough courage and asked him “Who are you…. Why are you standing in the middle of the road?”

“I am who I am. You have to figure out if I am a messenger of God… or I am God himself?” He said without blinking.

The street lamp was forming a halo around his head.

“So where are you going?” I insisted.

“I am in search of my best devotee”. His eyes were glazed, and I had a feeling he wasn’t actually looking at me.

“Does this person stay at any place. Any place nearby?”

“Anybody can be this person. Just have to show devotion, which I can appreciate”. He said.

Suddenly, everything fell into place. This is exactly the kind of dialogues Arun Govil and Nitish Bharadwaj would reel out in the two epics on Television. This man was actually God who had come to the World looking for an ardent devotee.

Without wasting any time I told him about my problems in life and sought his blessings.

Having finally seen God, I thought it my responsibility to take him to his home- the nearby Sai Baba temple. I then went home a satisfied gal… for I had finally seen God.

Next morning, there was a lot of chaos outside the building. People from mental asylum were looking for a young and handsome patient, who escaped last evening and pretends to be God.

Dead End

2009-05-19T20:47:00.000-07:00

Everybody I know (or don’t know) is getting married. It’s almost like a new trend. Just now Amit told me, Abhishek is getting married today. What is wrong with everybody?

Can you believe, most of the forwards circulated, much talked about topic is “the ill effects of marriage”, even then people don’t learn. Why wouldn’t they listen? If they are blinded and deafen by, the so called, LOVE, I can understand. But why otherwise? I have heard there is no freedom of speech after marriage, there is continuous nagging and 24X7 demanding after marriage, no limit to expectations. I have also heard, girls tend to eat more and gain weight after marriage. Why would you want to give up all your freedom, shopping, dancing, camping with friends, clean house, never cooking, no arguments, travel, entire bed, and high self esteem?
In any other relationship, at least there is a way out, but there isn’t any in marriage. Maybe that’s why it’s called “Wedlock”. Two people are locked in it forever.

If two people are truly in LOVE and know they are made for each other, well and good. They have all the reasons to marry as soon as they get “License to Wed”. But if they are not in love, the only reasons I can think of, for them to get married at an early age are: Most of them are true for women.

1. Parental pressure
2. Want to live an easy life by marrying a millionaire
3. Bored of working. Now want to quit and sit back at home and relax.
4. Pressure from society. When you see all your friends getting married and don’t want fingers to be pointed at you.
5. Love attending weddings, so thought of attending your own wedding. This would include love getting dressed up.
6. When nobody listens to you, and you have a feeling that at least after marriage your partner would.
7. To kill boredom and loneliness
8. To find a bunch of whole new relatives. You get a mother, a father, a few sisters-in-law, half dozen cousins, and countless relatives for free. Basically to socialize. These relatives could also help you with your career.
9. Because it’s one of those logical steps in the sequence of life. Check job, check car, check marriage.
10. Want to give it a shot
11. For all the gifts you will get at the wedding.

“Wise men say, only fools rush in”. Wise men also say the following:

Quote 1: After marriage, husband and wife become two sides of a coin; they just can’t face each other, but still they stay together.

Quote 2: “I’ve had bad luck with both my wives. The first one left me, and the second one didn’t.”

Quote 3: I had some words with my wife, and she had some paragraphs with me.

Quote 4: The most effective way to remember your wife’s birthday is to forget it once.

Don't mess with me

2009-05-06T04:09:00.001-07:00

Somebody had said “Revenge is a dish best served cold” and they are still trying to find out who said it. Don’t believe me? Check out Wikipedia’s page on ‘revenge’.

In all years of my life, I have had my share of revenges. It all began when I was in class three and somebody stole my scented erasers. In those days, relatives coming from countries like Singapore and Malaysia would hand us cylindrical, scented erasers in fancy plastic containers. The containers would be in various shapes…and mine was a pink peacock. I remember the eraser being a major hit in my class.

As luck would have it, I lost it after a few weeks. An average eight-years-old girl would have suspected the whole World if she lost her scented eraser. But not me, Sir. We Jamwals know our enemies when we see them…and that’s why I zeroed in on my classmate Akanksha Dutta (Name changed to keep the identity a secret). She was the only suspect because my peacock shaped scented eraser had dethroned her Mickey Mouse eraser!

Back then, I didn’t know that revenge was a dish best served cold…so I decided to act the same day.

I laid out my plans. I couldn’t steal her Mickey Mouse eraser because I would have been the prime suspect. I couldn’t cut her eraser into two because the whole class knew that I carried a Topaz blade in my geometry box. And I couldn’t draw moustache on her Mickey Mouse eraser container because I only had sketch pens which were not permanent and she would have easily washed it clean.

After days of thinking, my plan was devised. On the D-day, when Akanksha was not near her geometry box, I stole the scented eraser but left the Mickey Mouse container intact. This was to give her the false impression that she still had her eraser.

The moment I stole the eraser, I placed it in water so that it lost its scent. After having her eraser submerged in water for 24 hours, I placed it back in her Mickey Mouse like container. For days after that, Akanksha went around telling people that her scented rubber didn’t smell of mint as it used to. I just smiled.

After that, I have taken revenge at all phases of my life. I have locked up a girl in her hostel room and threw the keys, I made a doll out of a black sock and put it outside another girls’ room to make her believe that she was haunted, I have punctured tires, I have written scary anonymous letters and much more.

The moment I post graduated, I thought all the revenge taking would end. But, to my surprise, it still continues. A colleague has managed to fan the flames. Now I have to think of some cleverer tricks (Which I shall put up after another 20 years).

Those were the days

2009-04-27T01:51:00.000-07:00

I was home for a long (really long) time… and when you are home for so long, after a certain point of time life gets boring. I mean, how much can you sleep or watch TV or walk your dog? So was my case. In the meanwhile, I thought of clearing up my old boxes.
I opened the first box and the first thing I saw, filled my heart with memories of my past. It was a slam book from my school (7th school out of 9 schools). It was signed by all my “good friends”, “bad friends”, “okay friends”, “hated friends” and “teachers” (that’s how I had categorized them). C’mon, we were kids and had no clue of maturity. Speaking of no maturity, those were the days when, without any rhyme or reason, a girl and a boy would be linked up for reasons like “They both blush when around each other”, “They both come in the same school bus”, “They both study together”, etc. And then, next thing you know, the girl would tie a Rakhi to the guy. That’s the reason half the school would remain empty on Raksha bandhan.
That was the time when everyone had a secret crush and would admire secretly. But when caught admiring, would pretend like it’s a huge misconception. They would then write his name in books (at least girls do that) and then play those games where you check your compatibility level (I think it’s called FLAMES). First crushes are always memorable. Even I had a “First crush” and then second, third, fourth, and don’t remember how many.
One of the most heartwarming belongings that I found in “The box of recollections” was my school diary. It had the school prayer printed on the first page, pledge on the second and some torn pages (I think those were the messages from my school teacher for my parents). It also had a daily “Time-Table” printed on the last page, out of which Games period, SUPW period and Lab sessions were highlighted and decorated. I remember how our preferences of days would depend on our time table. I always preferred Saturdays because we had 2 games period. We were supposed to wear PT shoes on days we had our games period. I would spend hours to neatly polish my shoes white, which would take just few hours on the play ground to get sunken under layers of dust (before even the assembly could begin) and no one would believe me when I stood in the “Untidy Uniform” line.
We had 2 such lines “Late comers” and “Wrong Uniform”, which included long nails, untidy uniform, wrong socks, wrong shoes, wrong belt, wrong ribbons, long hair not plated, short hair not clipped, etc. leaving no scope for me to escape. That’s the reason; first period was attended by just a handful while the rest of the students would be kneeling down in the sun. I started enjoying these sessions, when I was amongst the cabinet members and would punish students (even though none of the younger students ever listened to me). They would give me chocolates and I would let them go (of course, without getting it to Srikanth’s knowledge)
Talking about coming late to class, I also used to enjoy decorating the “Bulletin Board” and writing “Thought for the day”. That ways, I could waste another 15 minutes of class. By the ways, teachers always hated such students, who would take up such voluntary work. They always thought students did that to avoid attending their class. (I wonder what made them think that?)
I also found “My personal Diary” in the box. Which was so personal, that it had a “Danger” sign drawn on the cover. I would carry it with me everywhere till the time I realized how “kiddish” was the stuff written in it. It had all the names of people I knew, Things I liked about them, People I hated, along with reasons to hate them. One of the reasons, I hated a person was “Simply”. It also had some of my best moments and some of the worst moments. Apparently, my best moment was when I secured full marks in Social Studies and I hate watching, small puppies roaming on road without their mummies.
Then, during the end of every year, sale of autograph diaries would increase. People would start filling up each other’s diaries, like they are never gonna meet each other again. In some cases it would be true but in some it was just out of excitement of filling an autograph diary and feeling important. Everybody would fill up everybody’s’ diary (even if we had not spoken to each other) and then girls would group up and read what their secret crush had written in “About me”, “Hobbies”, “Best Friends”, “Lines about you”, “Why I like you”, “Why I dislike you”, etc. People would buy colorful pens to fill up diaries. Those were the best times.
Those were the times when we could hang out with friends for hours without realizing the time, but when it came to sitting with guests at home, our stomach would start aching. Those were the times when we could hear music from 20 blocks away but would become deaf to a yelling mom in the next room. Those were the times when “getting high” meant “ on a swing”, when “drinking” meant “apple juice”, when “dad” was the only “hero”, when “love” was “mom’s hug”, when “dad’s shoulder” was the “highest place on earth”, when your “worst enemy” was “your sibling”, when the only thing that could “hurt” were “skinned knees”, when the only things “broken” were your “toys”, when “goodbyes” only meant “till tomorrow”.
I found something interesting to put up here: Life means: A winter evening, four friends, mild rain, four cups of tea. Life means: Hundred bucks of petrol, two rusty old bikes, and one open road, Life means: Maggi noodles, a hostel room, 3:25 am. Life means: 1 preparatory leave, 1 night, 1 book and 8 duffers. Life means: 3 old friends, 3 separate cities, 3 coffee mugs and 1 internet messenger. Life means: 1 girl, 1 number, 4 friends and a fight.

Winters in Summers

2009-04-14T01:20:00.000-07:00

When the rest of the country is sulking with the killing heat, I am in the part of the country where survival of a South Indian would be difficult without heaters and sweaters. Even though I belong to Jammu, I would rather call myself a South Indian since I have spent all my life in this part of the country (Courtesy my Dads’ Profession and now my Job).
If you are a South Indian and reading this, chances are you will not understand because you have never seen a winter.

If you are a North Indian, you probably know what winter is all about but don’t know how it impacts a South Indian…so read on. The Western & Eastern Indians can just sit and watch.
As I was saying, having stayed most of my life in Hyderabad, Pune and Mumbai, winter isn’t easy.
Back in Mumbai nobody would speak of the weather. People calling you wouldn’t ask: “So, how is the weather?” for they would know the answer. The only reason why winter wear sells in Mumbai is because of the very low A/C temperature in Movie halls, Offices and Shopping Malls. Office is the only place where I get to show off my lovely Blazers. It is not to say that Mumbai doesn’t have four seasons – It has hot season, more hot season, most hot season and then the most hot and humid season.
Here in Wellington (Yes there is a place called Wellington in India too, near Ooty), we have the summer (which is as cold as winters in Pune), winter, autumn and spring. Spring is the season from May onwards till August when the working class springs from one company to the other after a not-so-good appraisal.
Anyway, a week back when I decided to come home to Wellington, I could have never imagined in the wildest of my dreams that I would need to pack my warm clothes in April. Soon when I landed here, I realized that it was winter.
I can cope with winters, especially when there are heaters in every corner of your house and doors are shut so tight that no clod wave can dare touch you. But the main issue is taking bath. How could one take bath when the outside temperature was as low as 11 degree Celsius? Back in Mumbai, I used to take bath twice (morning & evening) but here, it is becoming a challenge.
I even tried putting on the heater 24X7 but hot water baths aren’t good either because after wiping ourselves dry, we would freeze in the cold.
After two failed attempts, I stopped taking bath. I don’t stink yet because it has only been a week. If it gets colder and I can’t think of any alternatives to bathing…I plan to stock up Rexona’s Winter Cool before its price goes up. In case you didn’t know, demand for deodorants goes up in winter (and one thought sweating was less in winters!).
Apart from the freezing cold, this place is heaven. Its like a fairy land (only the fairies are missing) with greenery spread like a carpet feasting your eyes, clouds so low that they sweep into your house, land so colorful as if its been gardened for years. I am attaching a picture below as a support evidence.

When mind wonders

2009-03-31T04:33:00.000-07:00

My boss: “Deepali, please complete the PPT before leaving for the day”

My mind: “Sure sir.

PPT is no big deal, I have made a million of them during my MBA days.

Ah! MBA days. Those late night movies and sleeping throughout the lectures.

No wonder, the teachers didn’t like me much.

School was better. I was a “Teachers’ pet”. They all loved me.

I loved going to school. I had 100% attendance in school. (Or was it because I preferred it to staying at home and listening to a yelling mom)

C’mon, at that age, everybody tends to think that their parents scold them coz they are just too boring. Somehow we always think that our parents were never kids and didn’t have a life.

Its only when we go through their photo album and old accessories (By that I mean bikes, huge driving glasses, funky bell bottoms, polka dots T-shirts, embroidery sweaters, etc.) and when we meet their old pals, who often tell us how fun our parents were, that we realize, all the scolding is out of sheer jealousy since they aren’t kids anymore.

By the time we realize, that our parents actually had good intentions behind their behavior and didn’t want us to make the same mistakes they have, we have grown up and are already away from them.

Now we miss them so much. We miss the, once upon a time, hated food. We miss being pampered and fed by mom. We miss being forced to drink milk early morning. We miss being called up a million times, while we were away for only an hour, to ask “when are you coming home?” We miss those nagging “Please clean up you room” (Why is it necessary to clean your room? Why should you keep your clothes in your cupboard, when you know you are gonna wear it the next day? So wouldn’t it be better to keep it lying on the floor. )

We miss those waiting-for-parents-to-sleep-so-we-can-talk-over-the-phone days.

I wonder how could I possibly talk to Sanam over the phone for hours together. When now, I don’t remember making a telephonic conversation with anybody for more than 30 minutes… okay 1 hour…. C’mon not more than 2 hours.

But there are surely times when I prefer not to carry my phone with me, or I rather switch it off. Though I sometimes wonder what life would be without a phone. How the hell will I keep in touch with my friends?

Ohhh… that’s why they had letters…

That’s why they made us write and practice writing letters in school. But why on earth would you follow a format while writing a letter to your friends. Who writes:

Abhishek Gupta

Andheri

From

Deepali Jamwal

Colaba

Date: March 31, 2009

Dear Friend,

……..

Yours truly

Deepali

There were many subjects in school which were pointless. Like …… *My Boss Interrupts* “Aren’t you going for lunch?”

My mind: “Oops!!! Its already half day. I must come back and finish my work if I want to leave on time. If I don’t leave on time, I wont be able to make it on time for my dance class…..”

And it goes on….

I am not ME anymore

2009-03-25T00:44:00.000-07:00

My mother always said that I had a million dollar look. I doubted her till I was tall enough to see in the small mirror mounted on our bathroom's wall. After I saw myself in the mirror, my trust in my mother increased a million times. "She has taste", I told myself.

It has been many years since I was born.... and I still look like a million dollars. Just that the million dollars seem a little over-used and ragged.

Some of the major growing issues that I have been facing are:

My hair is no longer mine

My hair, for some reason, have matured (even before me) and now wants to lead a life of its own. I find it in every corner of my room trying to build a family of its own. Where ever I go, I leave a trail of my hair.

Fed- up of my hair's revolt, I have been cutting it regularly... But none of the beauticians I have come across know how to cut it properly. It always grows back. I want to remove the root cause... but nobody seems to know how.

I Own my set of Teeth

I have always had good teeth. At least that's what everybody is made to believe, as a part of my first impression. Thanks to those miraculous hands of all the dentists I have ever been to. Nobody could ever figure out which ones are my own and which ones did I pay for.

I bet none of you own your set of teeth. The first set (the milk teeth) that fell off in the early days itself and then the tooth fairy gave me another set. That fell one by one - during those bi- cycle falls, chocolate eating days, and those arguments with parents (Don't ask, whats the connection?). Unlike you all, who thrive on a gifted set, I have now paid for and own a set of my own.

My face is losing its Glow

You wouldn't believe me, but there was a time when I had a pretty face. So much so, that in 9th standard while playing Meerabai, my teacher (lady) actually winked at me. Back then, I was too young to understand this.

It is said that a beautiful face is a passport. It opens the doors of nations. Alas! the passport has expired now and the authorities have ruled out a second issue.

I can't remember names

I am sure, it happens to everybody at some point, that we see a person... we know that we know that person... we know that we were good friends at some point... we know we used to share Tiffin... we know, back then, we couldn't stay without each other.... but sadly, we can't remember their names.

In my case, it was worse. I remembered the name, forgot the face. Despite of my FRIEND telling me repeatedly that she wasn't Shalini, I refused to believe. I continued telling her, how much she has changed and how much do I love her new hairstyle, untill she gave me that "Leave- or - I'll - cry" look. It pained me to see that look on a FRIEND's face. So I left.

Rain Rain!!! Please come soon

2009-03-09T03:00:00.000-07:00

When you are sitting in air conditioned office, sipping coffee and complaining the control room to increase the temperature, one hardly realizes the heat outside. Since yesterday was an off and I was out of places to visit, I stayed at home just to figure out how hot it was in Mumbai. It was so hot that I actually wished it was a working day. Damn! What was I thinking? It’s a sin to even think of working on a holiday.

Mumbai, while rating on a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the lowest (because it is the lowest), weather wise must be rated 1. It’s never cold here, so you can’t show off your winter wear. It’s too hot and sticky here, so you can’t even stick your head out in the balcony, else you’ll need to take a shower again. It does not rain, but it pours. It pours like a bucket full of water has been off loaded. I hate rains in Mumbai (except for the part that I wait for them eagerly, since the roads get flooded and we get an off).

But last night I was missing rains. I would prefer rains to a hot and sticky day. When it rains in Mumbai, it rains cats and dogs. In fact, in mornings I spend half an hour removing cats and dogs from the clothes I had left outside for drying. It was during this exercise that I also observed that wet clothes are a lot heavier. Perhaps that’s why rescuers find it difficult to lift people who drown in water and get their clothes wet.

Around midnight, the sky starts thundering.

I once had an old uncle who believed that the thundering sky was when God of Gods had a bad stomach. Immediately, we would ask him, “If that was what thunder was, what was lightening?”He never gave us a satisfactory answer to this question.

As the thunder grows louder I can scarcely hear my roommate snoring. I mean, I could still feel the room’s walls shivering…just that her snoring was inaudible. In the initial days of my hostel life I would really sit up in the middle of the night and wonder which one of my roommates is snoring. I didn’t have to wait long, for during one of my “I-am-a-crusader-of-truth” moments, I closed one of my roommate’s mouth and nose for five minutes…and I could still hear the snoring. Finally, I had identified the culprit – it was the other roommate.

Getting back to the rain, I also like to play in the rain, especially when you know that your mom will take care of the dirty clothes. But as I grew and had to live on my own, I preferred not to go in the garden while it rained but to stay in the balcony and enjoy the view (Though I don’t remember when have I ever done that?).

I guess the point I am trying to make here is, even though rains in Mumbai floods the city, ruins your clothes, decays your shoes, brings small- creepy insects with it, spreads infection, and makes life hell, I would still prefer it to hot- sticky- stinky day.

Random Scribbling

2009-03-01T19:42:00.000-08:00

This post was written on Friday

I was thinking hard today (though some of you might wonder “With what?”). But couldn’t get a decent topic to write about. Usually this never happens. Usually there are many thoughts running in my mind. Usually I have a hundred topics to discuss and write about. Usually I can never keep quite. But today was unusual. I sat down to write and went blank. My mind was as clear as water from Aquaguard. (Booooooo!!!! Cant even think of a decent comparison). So thought of random scribbling.

1. Right now, the only excitement left in my life is MY NEW PHONE. It’s the sexiest looking thing ever created by mankind (at least out of all the things I can see right now). Till yesterday wherever I went, my phone caught every souls’ eyes. Alas! Now I have to cover it with an ugly looking black colored mobile cover to prevent it from getting scratched. Then why do I need to cover it? Because, it got embarrassing every time I told people, who admired my phone, “not to touch the screen”; wrap it up in a tissue when we sat to have lunch; and cleaning the screen every two minutes to prevent it from dust particles. It’s like Cindrellas’ step mom hiding her beauty from the rest of the world, only difference being I am doing it with good intentions. I hope my phone could understand that.

2. Today I have no work at all. So I decided to collect as many movies as possible and watch them over the weekend. I am sure the divisional head thinks I am the busiest person today, walking from one desk to another with many pen drives in my hand. Little does he know. Now I have enough movies to survive my weekend.

3. “Your future depends on your dreams, so go to sleep” --- by some sleep deprived person

Only if dreams could come true, my name would be on Guineas Book of World Record for being the girl “who saved the world most number of times from disaster”. Every day, I either save the earth from falling into the free space and crashing into another planet, or I eat the huge monster before it could swallow earth, or I am the super girl who kicks a stone into space to fill up the gap which is being created in ozone layer, or I divert the flow of water which is going to submerge the world, by blowing air towards it, etc.

4. 4. Today’s headlines “India tops the huger list”. Man! What is wrong with India. India is failing its rural poor with 230 million people being undernourished — the highest for any country in the world. Malnutrition accounts for nearly 50% of child deaths in India as every third adult. People please, wake up. Please don’t waste food in your plates. That’s the least you can do. Take only as much as you can finish. Next time before you go for a wedding and waste food that could feed 4 children (just because it is for free), think of people who die of hunger (it must be most awful).

5. 5. A lady in the bus was scolding her child for wetting the bed. Reminded me of my childhood. Like you guys never did??? Have you ever dreamt of visiting the loo for taking a leak…and midway through got up and found that you were still in bed and your trousers were wet? I have had many such dreams… Initially, I would sleep through the whole watering exercise. With time, I started getting up as soon as the watering exercise was over. Once up, I would remove the wet trousers and place them deep inside the laundry bag, wear another trouser and be ready for operation salvation. Though not much of rescue was required. Once I came back from school, the bed sheets would change. Probably mom and dad knew about it, but decided to turn the blind eye so as not to break my confidence.

6. Found this quote interesting “Practice makes a man perfect, but no one is perfect, so why practice”… hahaha.

7. Elections in Pakistan. Hmmm, they still have elections in Pakistan? What’s the point of a ruling party there when….. ah! Forget it!

Filmistan

2009-02-26T22:37:00.000-08:00

Cute, adorable, romantic, comedy, emotional, dramatic…. Wonder what am I talking about??? The movie – 8 Below. If you haven’t seen this movie - you are such a loser. I was one too, until this Saturday when I saw this movie and since then (after realizing what I had missed in life) I have seen this movie over a million times (some exaggeration is allowed). It was the most wonderful thing that happened to me that day. Don’t wanna say much about the movie coz I am afraid I might do injustice to it. Please go watch it.

Some movies can just make your day and some can put you into depression. I saw a movie the other day which wanted me to kill the director and beat him with his own spine. DELHI-6. @ Rakesh Omprakash Mehra: what were you thinking? Instead of promoting the movie as “From the makers of Rang De Basanti” it should be promoted as “From the makers of Aks”. Actually, to think about it, the movie shouldn’t be promoted at all. It was a torture, not only mental but also financial. The story (if putting small unrelated clips can be termed as “story”) revolved around a visible pigeon and an invisible monkey man. The movie started with a good theme but after about 1 hour, Rakesh got bored and asked his assistant to complete the rest of the movie. When the assistant saw, that it wasn’t going anywhere, he got bored too and handed the project to his spot boy. The spot boy realized that the cast of the movie is big and all of them being experienced people, so he asked the actors to act whatever they feel like while he shot them. The movie absolutely made no sense. If you are one of Abhisheks’ fan, please don’t watch the movie. His fake accent can get on your nerves.

While we are at the topic, how can we possibly miss out, the Oscar winning, Slumdog? Well done guys!!! We, Indians are very smart people. If this movie wouldn’t have won an Oscar, Bachchans would have floated their blogs with “Brand India being disrupted”, politicians would have banned the movie in every state and opposition would be on streets protesting to air the movie and let the world know what the current party has led our country to. Wonder what happened to “Brand India” after the Satyam fiasco? Big B, I wonder why movies like Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham, which are so REALISTIC and based on TRUE stories, are not critically acclaimed by global audience?

Now since the movie is such a huge success, we (Indians) are calling it “Our” movie. Smart people. Even though some might say that they have earned bucks at the cost of Indias’ poor image. But dad, the movie isn’t about that, its about how a slumdog (out of his real life experience) knows the answers to all the questions of “who wants to be a millionaire”. Never mind, as long as, Rahman won 2 awards, I am happy (even though I think he has done much better job in Rand De Basanti).

Jai ho! Rahman. This is the new lingo these days. “Hello!” has been replaced by “Jai Ho!”… So now conversations start like this:

“Jai ho! How was the weekened?”

“Jai Ho! Papaji”

“Jai Ho! Sir”

Trrringgg Trrringgg “Jai Ho!”

Signing off: JAI HO

Television- I miss you

2009-02-22T19:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, while I was sitting in a bus (one of the latest BEST busses with comfortable cushion seats with hand rests and a television) I happened to see a glance of this realty TV show Dance India Dance. I had often heard people talking about it but never paid much attention. But now, after seeing some of the amazing performances, I wanna see it more. Alas! I don’t have a television. Not because I cant afford one, but because it’s not allowed in the hostel. Plus, even if it was allowed, it would take up the entire place in my small room, where already my roommate and I are struggling to live in a place enough for only one person.

I miss watching Television. After coming home from college, at least I knew something interesting is yet to happen in my life. I would always look forward to what next is gonna happen to Tulsi. She had become a part of my life (even though it took me a while to recollect her name). And those laughter shows. I would finish my homework before time (or pass it on to my friends saying that I am not feeling too well) to watch the shows in peace. I remember creating a huge drama about how my head was spinning (I think I even pretended to faint) just so I could stay home and watch if Kumkum gets married. I wonder if mumma knew I was acting. Else why would she be so casual about her child falling on floor unconscious??? On a weekend, I would get up from my bed, come and sit in front of TV and be there all day. People could wonder if my bum was stuck to the chair (but hey! I did take small washroom breaks in between).

One of my favorite television channels was the Asian sky shop owned by Home Shopping Network …. It is the only channel which attempts to solve the shopping problems of India’s helpless, stuck-at-home TV viewers like me. I didn’t bother much about the products, but what fascinated me more was the way they would ACT EXCITED to sell these products. Another favorite program was Khana Khazana. It helped me a lot to get over my urge to eat tasty food while I was bed ridden due to Jaundice and could eat only plain, tasteless, white food.

The other day I was watching popular American sitcom ‘Friends’ and Joey Tribbiani blurted out: “What? You don’t own a TV? What’s all your furniture pointing out at?”
Joey had made me realize that I was living my life all ulta, so I now need to buy a house, wherein I can have my own friend, philosopher, guide- my TV, and have all my furniture facing it.

Sawal 55 Crores ka!!!

2009-02-19T22:50:00.000-08:00

What would your reaction be, if one usual day, you casually log on to your bank account to check if you can still afford to have dinner out, and to your surprise you find 7 zeros behind the figure that you were expecting? Recently, Jayesh (one of my friends) found Rs 55 Crores in his account… check it out http://www.mid-day.com/news/2009/feb/160209-Jayesh-Agarwal-ICICI-Bank-55-crore-transaction-Internet-banking-Charudatta-Deshpande-corporat.htm...

But he was an honest guy (or maybe after he realized that he might get caught if he tried to withdraw all the cash or maybe he thought that ICICI might reward him for his frankness or maybe he thought it was one of the sting operations), he reported the matter to the bank and became famous. All newspapers, radio channels and TV reporters were interviewing him. But I wonder what would I do if I was a victim to such a mishap of my bank??? Would I want to be famous or rich??? Na!!! Fame is only for a couple of days and then it dies out… But this could be my one chance to feel like a spoilt filthy rich girl who uses currency notes as her toilet paper.

I could take all the money, get it changed for quarters, then gamble until the funds are quadrupled. At that point, invest in the stock market, get filthy rich, and never spend a dime of it afterwards. Or so it seems. Then SECRETLY invest in a company searching for the key to immortality. Then just let begging neighbors, distant relatives, and long lost siblings ring at my door (disconnect the doorbell so that it doesn't bother me) for like ever, all of them hoping to get a little extra cash, then once they realize it doesn't work, they could impatiently wait for me to die, as to inherit a little $$$$ and all my cool stuff (sounding like the Sackville-Bagginses? Mmmmhhhhmm...). Little do they know that the scientists I found knew what they were talking about, and that I am now ageless. The entire point is to infuriate them, and to have a great time while doing so. Ah the simple pleasures of life.

In case you are any of my relatives, ignore the first part. Here is what I would do with all my money:

To start with, I would donate some of it to Pranay, a social initiative set up by students of SIMS (Typical?). Take one heck of a vacation with family all around the world (and tip generously). Hire maids and choose their uniform (My mom deserves a break). Set up a trust fund so that my dad can officially retire. Invest in a positive – themed film and become famous. Buy a big house on a beach and invite all my friends over every week (of course I pay for the conveyance). Buy Rolls- Royce for dad, BMW for sister and a Porsche for myself.

Guess 55 Crores is not enough for all this. Maybe I’ll buy the best robbing gear and rob a bank.

Actually, I really cant think of what I’ll do with all the money until I get it. But surely, I wont be stupid enough like Jayesh to return it back to the bank (unless I am sure that it’s a trap set up by my boss to test my sincerity).

Tribute

2009-02-06T00:21:00.000-08:00

So I was heading SIMS (accompanied by my younger sister, who thought I was too immature to settle down all by myself). I got my new wardrobe, new laptop, and loads of stationery (which is still lying in the same cover as it was 2 and a half year back). I was experiencing anxiety (how is my room gonna be like), excitement (I hope I make friends), and more excitement. Then came, perhaps the most important discovery of all: my roommates. Although the four of us were to be thrown together by pure cosmic chance, I knew they could either make or break my college years.

I was the first one to reach there and discover this huge big room with two attached washrooms (even though the second one went unused), a giant window with cool breeze flowing so hard that it would slam the door every few seconds (we didn’t bother putting a stopper to the door until the door bent) and a small, cute balcony (giving a clear view of who is coming and going outside college and who is bunking classes, etc). I grabbed the best bed right next to the window (not realizing that sun is gonna shine right on my face early in the mornings), settled my stuff and went to check the list of my roommates (thought at least names could tell me something about their personalities).

“Room 404: Bhagyashree Vyas, Ritu Mundra, Deepali Jamwal, Swarup Kirloskar” The warden called out. “Hmmm! Swarup…” I had interacted with her online on SIMS community before joining. Sigh of relief.

I was told; roommates come in many shapes and sizes. Some will save your life. Others will make you want to take theirs. Most of all, love them or hate them, you are stuck with them.

But now, as a tribute to my roommates (after spending 2 of the most memorable days of my life with them) I hereby give you my list of 5 different types of roommates:

Type 1: They went to college to study, earn as many degrees as possible, capture a Nobel Prize, and then take over the world. Living with a topper wasn’t all that easy. Any disruptive noise or action will throw her a silent, pent up fit. Then she would just glare at the offender with all due hatred, slamming her books shut, rise dreadfully from her desk, leave the room, and then slam the broken door. All of this is done without words.

Fortunately, Bhagya loved us. Even though we were the noisiest, she learnt how to adjust. Eg. She would wake up early in the morning before any one of us to study, she would wear headphones while studying to avoid listening to us gossip, or simply sit in the balcony late in night, cuddled up with a quilt and study with a night lamp, to make sure she didn’t disturb us sleeping. (Though I think she was more scared of waking us up).

She never had to worry about her notes disappearing right before the exam because the entire college had a copy of her notes.

Apart from that, she would keep her bed spotless, her book neatly kept on the shelf, and her wardrobe was filled with clean clothes. The fact that her roommates were so untidy never bothered her. She would make our bed for us, would help us arrange our wardrobe every weekend, would clear up the mess in the room, etc. She was the most compassionate of all. And it was quite easy to fool her. Everytime she woke me up for a class, I would pretend having an upset stomach or high fever. Poor darling! She would rush down and get something for me to eat.

Type 2: If you’re lucky, you got this one. And we were lucky enough to have Ritu. She would buy us food, take us out for parties, and shared the same interests as we did. She was clean but not to the point of making us feel bad that we weren’t. If you have been wondering, who are the “dirty we” that I am referring to, it was Swarup and Me. (Yeah Okay, Swarup was little better off than me). I remember, when Ritu first stepped in, she asked us our sun signs. And when she figured out that she is gonna be sharing her room with 2 Virgos (Swarup and Me), her reaction was, “Cool! So my room will always be clean”. Little did she know!!!

Her mom would send care packages on a weekly basis, of which we would become a direct beneficiary. The best was, on Valentines Day, when she kept getting Chocolate cakes (which tasted heaven). She being not so much of sweet tooth, we got it all.

She would bring a DVD library that would keep us awake all night. And most importantly, she brought with her an insanely stocked wardrobe with dozens of shoes and accessories that she insisted we should use. Cant remember the occasion, but there was a time, when all 4 of us were wearing her dresses, her accessories and her makeup. She would make us wonder if we even owned any clothes of our own.

She sometimes took the role of our mother, when it came to shouting at the bai for not cleaning our room, or fighting with the newspaper wala, or representing our room in front of the warden in case of any complaints. Courtesy her, we had Gods’ idol in our room.

Type 3: Unwashed dishes, open jars of pickle kept for days, and a mass of dirty clothes slowly piling up on the floor. But one good thing with me was that no one was under pressure to keep their stuff in order.

This was sometime towards the end of course, when all 3 of them had moved out, but our room was still so messy with my stuff all over the place that it appeared as if, many people were staying in the room. I like things messed up. It should look like someone is staying in the room. Every month I was forced to arrange my wardrobe, but soon after that, it was back to normal. I had to find place to sleep at night coz it was impossible to sleep on my bed. (I guess that’s the reason of the big fight which happened when we were discussing to rearrange the room setting, and no one wanted to push their bed next to mine.)

For some reason my biological clocks are twisted, I would watch movies till 4:00 am and sleep during classes. (Thanks to Bhagya, who would literally pull me out of my bed, I didn’t fall short of attendance). I also loved to have shouting discussions at every second of the day (swarup had to often remind me to calm down my tone).

These types of roommates are really difficult to adjust with.

Type 4: She was silent, but her guitar spoke for her. The rockstar of our college. She preferred black light or no light at all. She would be awake all throughout the day and most of the nights (no wonder she got all these crazy criminal ideas). She was the most practical one amongst all of us, though we heard a lot of “I can never keep a track of where my money gets spent”.

She likes to party but also knows when to study. She would bring with her lots of snacks endlessly. Also, she was an excellent secret keeper. Till the end of the course, no one knew who could have possibly played those notorious pranks for which the entire batch was punished.

I have been called by lots of names throughout my life, but the best one was given by her “little bastard”. These types of roommates are very emotional and compassionate but would never let their feelings out.

Type 5: In every room, there is at least one trespasser. She can be your extended roommate and never make you realize that her name is not on the list of Room 404. At first, you dislike them and think of ways to shoo them away. e.g. locking yourselves up in the room, or being extremely mean to them, but somehow they claw up your heart and make place in your room. Supriya was our extended room mate.

She would parade around the room, wearing her tiara, doing her vocal exercises (don’t wanna say much about that, else she’ll kill me for disclosing the fact that she won “The worst singer” competition, not once, but twice. These kind of roommates are care-free and wouldn’t let others opinion bother them. These types of roommates are the most easily recognized in the hostel with their flashy clothes, glittery hair bands, and loud voice.

There might be other types of roommates too, but I shared my room with these breeds.

Sorry guys! couldn't find better pictures of us together... we forgot to take nice pictures in all these years.

Love guru

2009-02-05T02:44:00.000-08:00

Whenever I walk along Marine drive, I see people with big, stylish dogs, decorated with pretty bows, hair puffed and fancy leash, trying to showcase their dogs’ skills to everybody around. They would make it fetch, hop on two legs, high-five, dance, roll over and many more, which I don’t even know what they call.

Have you ever thought that our so called ‘mans’ best friend’ can be our ‘love guru’. We can be adroit enough to train our doggy in aspect more than one, however, there’s one periphery where our pooch can swap places with us. Believe it or not, our pet dog knows the mantra to a successful relationship better than us.

Wondering what I am talking about? When I sit and stare at Mishtis’ pics on my desk, my laptop wallpaper, my screen saver, my phone wallpaper, etc. I cant help but feel how compassionate she is. I love the relation Mishti and I share (all thanks to her). Only if I could learn and adopt a few qualities from her, my life would be different and I would never feel less loved.

First, forgiveness is guaranteed. I have often heard others complain (I being no exception), “I can count so many instances in the past when you haven’t treated me right” or “I cant forgive you for what you did to me 3 years back” or “Don’t force me to dig into the past, I am quite capable of taking a revenge” or “This is in return for what you did to me ages back”…. Blah blah blah. We all dream of a partner/friend/colleague who doesn’t mind moving ahead of grudges and forgiving, rather than constantly brooding over past frustrations and arguments. But, dogs have an innate quality of living in the moment. Even if you yell at them, they will sit quietly to express their dislike towards our reaction, but the moment you behave normally, they’ll be all over you once again. They bury all past grudges and forgive us for scolding them.

I remember, when we had left Mishti home alone (with the Helper Bhaiya) for 3 days, Bhaiya would call us up everyday to inform that she isn’t having her proper meals and is very upset with us for doing this injustice to us. But the moment we reached back home, she forgot all about it and received us with a big hug.

If everybody could learn to wipe the slate as easily and quickly as these lovable creatures, relationships won’t ever get grumpy.

Second, Unconditional love is assured! When a dog loves its owner, it’s pure, sans any give and take, which is beautiful. Unlike human beings, dogs are non- judgmental. They will love you irrespective of whether you love them or not. They will love you irrespective of your status- whether you are a celebrity or a common man. Even if you leave them alone at home for hours, they will still pound on you when they see you and shower their wet kisses on you.

Their love is so unconditional that even if you lock them up in the verandah, they will still cry if they see you crying. I remember when I was a kid, I saw this movie Chaalbaaz, (For those who think it was a lame movie, I don’t care. I loved it) where a dog is fighting against the villain to save his malkin, but in the process he gets killed. I cried continuously for the poor dog, until my mom assured me that it was just a movie and the dog is still alive. Even when I saw Will Smiths' dog die in 'I am Legend', my heart went out for him. The point that I am trying to make here is, that dogs will love you more than their own selves. That’s Unconditional Love.

If we learn just this lesson from our dogs, sailing safe across the toughest waters won't be hard in life.

Third, Patience is personified! Thanks to our hectic lifestyle struck with a multitude of personal, professional and social anxieties, our patience level has become drastically low.

Qualities such as tolerance and endurance are missing. This is the reason why we often end up fighting with our loved ones.

Here too, we can look upto our dogs for help. Mishti is extremely patient. Like even if she wants to go out for a walk early in the morning, she will quietly sit next to you and wait for you to wake up and take her out, but would never disturb your sleep. No matter how hungry she is, she will never disturb you if you are dining.

Fourth, Consistency for sure! Unlike humans, dogs do not get mood swings. Every breed of dog has a set nature to which it consistently sticks to. Mishti will consistently behave in the same playful manner unless and until, there's something seriously wrong with her.

I am sure there are a lot many other qualities which I cant think of now. If you can, do drop it in the comments box.

I don't see why!!!

2009-02-03T00:41:00.000-08:00

On my way to work, I change 3 modes of transport. Bus- Train – Rickshaw. And obviously, I happen to encounter a lot many people during the same process (“obviously”: not because I change 3 modes, but “obviously” because, I stay in Mumbai. A place where all you can see is people around you. Even if you happen to travel in an odd hour, you’ll still find the place as crowded as it is at any usual peak hour. And then you wonder, “What are these people doing on the streets at this hour, don’t they ever sleep?” forgetting that you are on the street too, and have become a part of this crowd, adding to the already peaking population of Mumbai). No, this post is not another entry about my misery in Mumbai, but is about someone I encountered this morning.

I was sitting in the bus, gazing at sky (for I had nothing to do), when this small, tiny kid (Literally, he was as small as Thumbelina), with a giant school bag, which was almost double his size, hair neatly combed, and huge, round spectacles which covered almost half of his face, giving him a Harry Potter look, entered the bus. He then quickly ran and grabbed a place next to me. Then he took out a 5 Rupee coin from his pocket and in his innocent and naïve voice said, “Churchgate” (asked for a ticket to Chrchgate). His hands were so small that it couldn’t hold the ticket and the change out his 5 Rupees in the same hand. So I extended my hand to help him settle down. Then we happened to exchange smile. When he smiled, I could see everything inside his mouth as he had no teeth to cover it. (Either, because his milk teeth had fallen or because he was too young to have any teeth). When he got off the bus, I couldn’t help but think if such a tiny creature would ever be able to cross the road on his own, or reach his school safely and how heartless are those parents who let such babies out of their sight. But this post is also not about that kid either.

It is about how we, adults, always complain that “I wanna be a kid again”, or “I don’t wanna grow up”, or “It was great when I was a kid”, blah blah blah… What we forget is that kids too have a lot of tension, stress and responsibilities on their petite shoulders. As kids, we used to cry about going to school, exams, results, the responsibilities of fulfilling your parents’ expectations, the fear of getting caught while doing something wrong, the fear of red ink on your report card, the tension that would pop up every time “red list” was to be declared, and lots others. In fact, as kids we had other problems too, like mom yelling “clean your room” when you had a movie to catch; getting caught by a policeman just when you are running late for your exam; dad shouting “Where does my official stuff disappear? Who meddles with it?” Every time he said that, you knew you are next, even though you had no clue. The worse was when you landed in the examination hall prepared for some other subject, and your friends thought it to be funny and would tell this story to their other friends/ parents. Fearing that this time your phone bill is gonna touch the sky and your parents will blame it all on you (since no one else uses the phone as much as you).

Agreed, the severity of problems was not as much as it is now, however we must also realize that the level of tolerance was also very little. Then, small things as getting caught while forging your parents’ signature would put us under depression for days.

I guess, the point that I am trying to make here is, be happy with what you have and where you are. Don’t compare yourself with anyone, for you don’t know what they are going through… (Wow, Did I just make sense?)

Dedicated to all the Dads in the world

2009-01-13T22:03:00.000-08:00

I saw this classic “Evelyn” yesterday. It was a heart whelming movie where these 3 kids (who have been abandoned by their mother) are forcibly sent to asylum since their father is domestically and financially incapable of raising them. And the story revolves around, how the father rebuilds his financial position and fights against law to regain possession of his kids.

I missed my dad throughout the movie. It’s been so long that I haven’t seen him. This December, he, along with mama and my sis, were supposed to visit me. I had everything planned. Courtesy my dads’ occupation (Army), we have been taught to plan everything in advance and in timely manner. So, I was prepared with a list of activities we were supposed to do together. Each activity had a time allotted to it and it was categorized geographically (And u are wondering what makes me a typical Army kid?). While I was gearing up and buying presents for everybody, my dad called up to say that he won’t be able to make it. He was taking over the post of BGS (Brig General of Staff College) on 20th and couldn’t be so irresponsible to take an off on 23rd.

So then, only my mom and sister came. That was fun too. All 3 ladies went crazy shopping (by 3 ladies I mean my sister, we were merely her helpers), no time limit, no hurrying up, no shouting “You girls are very slow when it comes to shopping. I’ll stay in the car while you guys do your business”. We went to Essel world, and those late night dinners, long walks (from one end of the market to the other). My dad wouldn’t have had the patience to go through all this. He would have just said, “I wish I had a son to give me company”. But I missed him a lot.

He is a sweetheart. We have a lot of fun together… hunting for chocolates (that mom has hidden), blaming it on others when mom finds empty boxes when guests have come over, “I don’t even know what a chocolate tastes like”… practicing Salsa so that we can dance and show off in front of others at army parties, visiting ocean park and competing who slides down fastest, cheating while playing cards, singing away to glory during our long drives, evening walks, badminton, and it’s the best when we all gang against him and tickle him. One should hear him laugh like a small kid. And also when he calls me up to complain against mom, “Your mom doesn’t let me watch match. I should buy another TV now.” As a kid (2 year old), I was irritating him when he had slapped me, I love demanding for things as a compensation for that, and he wouldn’t refuse. One should see his youth pictures; he would just dress up to get a picture clicked in all the possible hair styles and poses and from different angles. With those bell bottoms, big glasses, curly hair, lean physique, and a cigarette in his hand, he surely must have been a heart throb (He still is). It doesn’t end there, he would insist on clicking pictures of Dadima posing like Hema Malini and Sharmila Tegore.

My dad gives a complex to most of my friends. He is very well built (thanks to his regular gym and games), jet black hair (I am sure he doesn’t color them), his fair complexion (thanks to his mom), and those looks (thanks to his dad). Had he not been in the army, he would have been giving competition to Mr Khan (Guess which of the Khans…).

If you ever see a person standing in a crowd, talking about how proud he is about his daughters and how his daughters are perfect, (even if they are complete strangers) so loud that people within a radius of 1000mts can hear him, that will be my dad. (Thanks to his high pitch, we always knew when he is gonna come home from games so that we can switch off the TV and pretend to study).

Dance pe Chance

2009-01-13T02:00:00.000-08:00

Today my next session of Shiamak begins. Tuesdays and Thursday are the 2 days I enjoy the most. Not only because we get our reimbursements on that day but also because I get to do what I am most passionate about- Dance.

I have been dancing since I was just 3 years old. I started off dancing to the tune of my mother, and by 10 when I got beyond her control…my father took over and gave me the tune to dance to. Around 15, I was dancing to the tune of my teachers at school… and so on. And now I dance to the tune of Shiamak Davar. I am glad, I have been able to preserve a few things that I have cherished as a kid (including my old torn blue jeans), one being: my passion for dance.

I don’t want to sound too self obsessed, and I swear I didn’t make this up. Once a girl actually came upto me and said “Ma’am you are the goddess of dance”. I wanted to go back in the past and record her sentence, make a small tape or something out of it, which I can hang around my neck all the time. And also put up the pictures of all the prizes I have bagged with the comments of each and every jury member. (And yet I don’t have an ego ;-)

The problem with me is that I always want to be in the front row, seen by the audience and applauded. In all my group performances, I have always been placed in the stage center (Mind you- I am not the one who decides positions). And yet, every time I begin a new session with new instructors and new faces around, I fear if I’ll get center position this time? Its like a nightmare “Will the instructor be able to spot me amongst all those pretty faces?” Two days before starting a new session, I start to get Goosebumps. I also dreamt once that I was performing in filmfare, with Shahid Kapoor, but was placed in the 4^th row. I started to sweat and immediately woke up. It was the worst nightmare ever. (For those who do not dance, will never know how does it feel like not to be noticed while dancing, especially after your dad has told everybody that “My daughter is better than all the Dancing Divas”).

I am in the same turmoil right now. My 1^st class of new session, new instructor, new students, will the instructor be able to recognize my talent and give me the position I own? Well, one thing that is commendable about Shaimak is, they don’t place you according to your looks. (else I would be somewhere behind the side screens)

Lets see what happens: fingers crossed

Gifts: the real reason

2009-01-12T00:50:00.000-08:00

Everybody loves gifts (even better: to be on the receiving end). As a kid, the only reason why I would await my birthday was: gifts (apart from the cake). Nothing has changed in all these years. I still celebrate my b’day for the same cause. Only difference being, expenses of a party/treat has to be borne by one self.

Everytime, a relative would come over they would come with lots of goodies for everybody. Worse is, when they call you a month before to check what you want. I do have a list of gift articles I want, but I also want to show some modesty by not demanding anything. I can send a list across to my sister or my parents but what do I do when friends ask?

My friend called me up a month before my b’day to ask what I want as a b’day present.

My parents have always taught me to refuse at least three times before accepting anything. So, I quickly said: “Nothing for me please. Nothing for me please. Nothing for me please,” and waited for him to respond.

He spoke next: “No Deepali, I want to gift you something. Thought I should check with you and buy you something you need.”

I had only three seconds to respond. The character of a person is decided in these three seconds. I had a few options - refusing his gift and telling him that I would be excited if he just came for a movie with me and be my guest, was the best option. The worst option was to list out the things I wanted from him.

With the fear that he might give in any moment and say, “OK then, no gift for you this time”, I replied: “I really think you should not take all the trouble.”

“It is no trouble at all. In an hour’s time I am going out for shopping and I could get you whatever you want.” He said.

My mind went racing. I had bought gifts for so many people. Before I walk into a store, I have always asked myself a few questions –

Do I really need to gift this guy?
Will this guy ever gift me back?
Is there a possibility that I am overdoing it - will he/she be happy with a Rs 200/- gift?

My mind came back to the present. I had to quickly come up with a gift item…else I might be gifted with a deo, an audio CD of old classics or even worse some junk jewellery. The problem with suggesting a gift was …I didn’t know his budget.

Pausing for a while, I said: “I am fine with anything as long as it is an Armani dress, blue in color and I would prefer it to be knee length.”

I finally said what was on my mind, “Oops! I almost forgot. Get me a small size”

My b’day finally came and I got my dress. The real problem will come, when his b’day arrives.

What if....?

2009-01-11T22:55:00.001-08:00

Its Monday! A day after Sunday. On this day, I eagerly start counting days for next Sunday. Even though Sundays are lazy and meant for rearranging your wardrobe, I wait for them since I cant tolerate “Clear up the mess in your room” of the warden. (mom in some cases)

Believe me, survival can be difficult if your mom believes in keeping wardrobes clean and organized. And once it is organized, it gets difficult to hunt for your favorite outfit which was always hung behind the door, or lying on the bed. Every time I have to go out, I would spend hours trying different clothes and end up wearing the same pair of jeans and a t-shirt hung behind the wash room door, which I wore yesterday. In moments like this, a person starts hating clothes, and dreams about a world without them. Can you imagine a world without shirts, jeans or sarees? I did…

If only Adam & Eve hadn’t touched the apple, we all would today be roaming about naked – without clothes. But the two did a huge favor for the textile industry, which would not have existed but for the demand for clothes. Without the textile industry, where would all the fashion designers go? What about all those dumb models who showcase the latest in clothes? What will the models do? (It wouldn’t affect the Khans though)

No Fashion TV, no print or TV advertisements for brands like Allen Solly, Van Heusen, Lee, etc. No low rise jeans, no back less tops, no halter, i.e. no fashion at all.

This lack of clothes… will be a blessing in disguise for the men. You, naughty! I meant the shopping…imagine the number of hours your girlfriends/wives will cut off from their shopping time if clothes were not on the list? There would be no trial rooms in shops, unless you want to try out the new nail paint you are buying.

Needless to say, there will be no formal and informal dressing. Thus, no business suit, no Friday dressing, no worries about daily college wear, no spending of hours in front of the mirror admiring yourself, …and of course no marriage gowns. How would we identify the bride in the crowd? OK…it is enough if the bridegroom knows.

Now people will be more cautious about staying fit. Those who do not believe in skin display, merely coz they want to cover the extra flab with every bit of clothing, will now become more aware and you will find them going for regular jogs and work outs.

But if there are no trousers, there will be no pockets to keep wallets, mobiles and kerchiefs. Where will the police keep its revolvers? They will have to strap them on or hang them from somewhere.

A world without fashion means, a world without fashion. No showcasing of our fancy clothes. How would one differentiate between a celebrity and a common man? A politician and a terrorist? (They both look the same). It’s a scary thought. What will we do in winters?

$#&& :-))))) &&#$

2009-01-07T22:07:00.000-08:00

What makes a perfect day beginning? Is it chocolate, ice cream, vacations, hugs from children, a perfect night's sleep, good breakfast, or the satisfaction of a job well done? A thousand people, a thousand different answers. But one supreme pleasure that spans all people is laughter. Many will agree that a good healthy body, regular work outs and nutritious food cannot do as much good to your body as heartiest laughter. Little can compare to the feeling of a deep, complete, heartfelt laughing spell. No matter your age, wealth, race, or living situation, life is good when laughter is frequent.

After years of practice and experience, I now, am in a position to say that I might not have the best sense of humor but I am satisfied with the fact that I do make many people laugh.

To lighten up your day, try these: When you wake up in the morning, make sure to have a smile on your face “Fake it till you make it”. Listen to music that you love, treat yourself with comedy festival, Rent movies like Meet the Parents; Young Frankenstein; Pee-Wee's Big Adventure; Monty Python and the Holy Grail; This Is Spinal Tap; Animal House; Finding Nemo. Have a ha-ha bulletin board where you only post funny sayings or signs. If that doesn’t work, here’s a tip that cannot go in vain (Its tried and experimented a million times): Spend 15 minutes a day having a giggling session. Here's how you do it: You and another person (partner, kid, friend, etc.) lay on the floor with your head on her stomach, and her head on another person's stomach and so on (the more people the better). The first person says, "Ha." The next person says, "Ha-ha." The third person says, "Ha-ha-ha." And so on. It’s guaranteed that you'll be laughing in no time. Read up funny articles, take out time from work and read those funny forwards that have been taking up the entire place in your mail box. Try your jokes on your friends before trying it on your seniors. But don't laugh at everything, especially the things that aren't funny. And if you are a victim of “He who laughs last didn't get the joke", then pretend that you weren’t paying attention, clutch your stomach, close your eyes and throw your head back.

BTW an important aspect of humor is IQ. The extent, to which an individual will find something humorous, depends on his IQ. Like, when we were kids, cartoons (Tom & Jerry) were funny; when we grew up, I dream of Jinnie was funny; a little more matured, Dekh Bhai Dekh was hilarious, then came Full House, later FRIENDS was funny and so on….

So, you need to be well aware, who your target audience is. That also reminds me that telling a racist joke to someone of another race will most likely turn into you getting a black eye or suspended from school, fired from work, etc. (Except for Russell Peter. Man! That guy can pull off any kind of joke).

Most importantly, have a bunch of friends who make you laugh. Any time of day, if you are feeling low, you must be able to reach out to those friends and lighten up your day. Keep away from whining and cribbing friends and make your funny friends circle bigger. I am one of the very few lucky ones, who has always been surrounded by friends that can make me laugh (By laugh I mean laugh out so loud that tears roll down my cheeks) at any point of day and I can be rest assured that they will be always beside me.

Courtesy :Huzzu, Dujju, Vincy, Shek, Benny, Sanam, Rohit, Shanu, Binoy, Bodhi and many more

One Chocochip muffin please

2008-12-19T00:48:00.000-08:00

Today, after a weeks’ morning jogs, healthy meals, relinquishing sweets, refraining from coffee and regular dance classes, I have realized that “It is impossible to lose weight”. After repeated reminders from my friends and family “itna meetha mat kha” I continued to live on sweets. I never bothered about weight coz I assumed that I’ll never grow fat. Even if I did, I’ll get rid of it in a day or two and never let that layer settle on me. I would crave for sweet and when I didn’t find anything sweet to eat, I would just eat raw sugar. What do you expect??? Now I am fat. Fat is ugly!!! And how much ever I try, all my efforts are going for a toss (even though it’s been only a week). It seems like ages when I had Gajar ka halwa in hostel or ate kalakand every time I passed by sweet shop, or had a chocolate fantasy in our canteen, or a cheese cake in Sweet Chariot.

“What the hell!!!”, I thought to myself and went down to have a piece of choco chip muffin dipped in chocolate sauce and ice cream, where I saw this huge lady who nearly took up the entire place near the counter leaving no scope for the person behind her to place an order. I was alarmed. What if I grow like her. I’ll destroy every mirror that couldn’t lie, I would never come out of my room, or even better, I would just get a knife and cut off the extra flab, I would…… while all these thoughts were running in my mind, I heard her say “One choco chip muffin with 2 scoops of ice cream”. I was taken aback. I couldn’t feel my legs. All sweaty and shocked I stood there when I saw everybody around, looking at me, pointing and saying, “That’s what u are gonna look like”…. Could I be any more terrified?

So now I have decided to give myself another week.

I wish I was like jughead who can eat till eternity and yet manage to be slim and lean. I wonder how that feels like?

Mumbai Meri Jaan

2008-12-15T01:52:00.000-08:00

“Did u get a place to sit?” “Are you kidding me? I barely got place to breathe”. Just how tight packed are sugarcanes in a bundle, such is the scene in each compartment of Mumbai local trains, jam packed with people. If u have been to Mumbai and not travelled in local trains – either u r super rich who can afford to spend a bomb on petrol or you are just scared of being killed in a stampede by a flood of people, who no one knows where originated from or where will it end? Staying in Mumbai is tough but even tougher is commuting in Mumbai. My roommate is from a very small village, she would get up early in the morning to ring the bells of temple and pray that at least today she must get to enter the train. This is the plight of the people who come from elsewhere (they don’t want a place to sit, but just a place to stand). Others would just push each other and make their way through it.

Standing on a platform, waiting for train, I like to look around and observe people and how their conduct changes when the train is approaching the platform (especially ladies). They’ll laugh, chit chat, complement each other for what they are wearing, enquire about each other’s well being, harmonize or simply exchange smiles. But all this while, the only thought that is running in their mind is “I have to somehow push her back and grab a seat” or “Cool! she is wearing heels today, I can just hit her at the corner of her shoe” or “She looks depressed coz of the tragedy at home, I can surely win to her”… And the moment train arrives, no one knows nobody, each one for themselves, survival of the fittest. Every saying seems true. They would just hit, beat, slap, punch everybody around them and find a place to relax their back and listen to music. Almost 90% of ladies get hurt during this process. Either they crack their nails or get bruised or lose their accessories or even worse drop their hand bags under the train. And when the train is set on motion, once again everything is back to ordinary. Ladies are laughing and cit chatting again (Nobody minds the bloodbath, since that is what is on everybody’s mind). Even though they can’t move their head or reach their up hand to mend their hair or even if they are hanging in air squeezed between other ladies, they will somehow manage to eat their tiffin, read their prayers and take a small nap (all of those daily routine activities which they couldn’t complete at home as they were hurrying up to catch this train).

When the train is approaches the platform and ladies tying up their dupattas, changing their slippers into shoes, holding their hand bags tight and getting ready for the battle, I wait and watch. I am awed by this skill of fitting an entire gamut of people in a place meant for a hand full only. How much can you squeeze in so as to make a place for a whole bunch of people, when you thought that this compartment could not be more compactly packed? Isn’t it an art in itself?

Another fact linked with local trains of Mumbai is – The filth. Even if the dust bin is just a foot away, people would rather litter and keep up the tradition than try and make it clean. Pan spits everywhere, chewed gums sticking to everybody’s shoes and fat giant rats on the tracks under a pile of garbage- if this is the scene then “Mumbai Rocks”.

Haule Haule hogaye bore!!!

2008-12-14T20:37:00.000-08:00

“Yippee! It’s Friday”. It’s the day a new release hits the box office. And I, being the biggest bollywood fan, wait for this day eagerly. Such was the enthusiasm this Friday when Rab ne… was supposed to release. Even though I am not a fan of Shah Rukh and would prefer Akshay Khannas’ movie to his, for some reason I was waiting to watch this movie (probably because of Shiamaks’ choreography). When I bought the tickets, spending as much as I could have bought 5 DVDs of F.R.I.E.N.D.S., I thought to myself that it better be worth it. But no, it wasn’t. It sucked.

It was boring as hell, sad to the core and so tedious that it wanted me to put my finger through my eye into my brain and churn it around. It was the story of a duo who for some reason gets wedded. It is a totally mismatched couple where Shah Rukh is an uninteresting chap who doesn’t converse much, he talk only to his tiffin, oils his hair, drives scooter and on the other hand Anushkha is a very bubbly and a chirpy person who loves to dance. So as a result she gets bored living with this guy and so does the audience. That’s the reason she enrolls for a dance competition where again she is paired up with Shah Rukh who has done a makeover and looks even more terrible. Throughout the movie you can’t help but notice his giant nose which has covered almost entire face of his. Now, this new Shah Rukh learns to dance to impress his wife (who hasn’t noticed that both the guys are same yet). Is she that blind? She is squint though. Only if you shave off your mustache, wear gaudy tee shirts, flashy glears and gell up your hair, is it possible that the person whom you are living with doesn't recognize you? With his brainless and dumb witted acts, he is even more irritating now but somehow manages to win Anushkhas’ heart. Movie is going well, till he realizes that his wife is falling in love with a total stranger (new Shahrukh) and is totally shattered when she confesses to the new shahrukh that she is unhappy with her married life and wants to run away with him. That is when this MCP decides to wait and see what step does she take next…. I am too bored to even complete the rest of the story. All in all, A Crappy Movie….

The only thing worth watching in the movie was the Dance and Music. The new comer is also quite stunning (even though she looks very ordinary and cant see straight). Shah Ruhk is old and ugly with wrinkles running from one end to the other and the huge, gigantic nose of his. He should probably retire from the industry now or start taking up more fatherly roles.

Those who haven’t seen the movie, please watch it in a cheap theatre or even better wait for some time till they start telecasting it on TV (which shouldn’t take long) and save up your money for Gajhini.

Nostalgic

2008-12-09T23:26:00.000-08:00

Another entry about my school and college days!!! If u think I have gone foolish, then you must come and see me sitting in office now and weeping, gazing at my school and college pictures. 11^th and 12^th were the finest days of life. “Science boys and Commerce girls” was all each one had to discuss about when it came to the mischievous behavior of students in school. Those lab sessions, that hiding of shirts when guys played football, hiding under benches so that professor assumes no one is in class, locking up the door from inside so that teachers doesn’t find her way inside, hiding away their spectacles and their notes so that there is no ways they can teach us for the next few weeks, playing football in the class rooms and intentionally or unintentionally hitting it on the teachers head, breaking the glasses of crafts room, making plans to blow up Principals office on Diwali night but instead getting caught by a chowkidar with a mirchi bomb, trip to dream valley, Ramu (Maths teacher) running behind students who opened the buttons of his shirt, tricking teachers by changing names of some students (Parag to Maverick), bunking assembly and learning how to ride a bike, catching students for incorrect uniform and punishing them, those summer holidays and first light jogs, Srikanth making sure that none of us were absent and miss any of the regular work out, those cluster meets, canceling of football tournament and Srikanth ready to resign from the Head boy post, bidding farewell to our seniors by dressing up the boys as girls (Adrian being the sexiest of all), after the air show trying the same aerial tricks with cycles, locking up boys helmet in girls toilet, crushes on each other, sports day, going to Bombay Chat every evening after tutorial classes, getting punished for eating ice cream in class, hanging out in the cycle stand for hours after school till PT sir would kick us out, Parties at Parags’ house, asking PK to make his separate BOYS line (he was the only guy in Commerce section then), those craft sessions when we emptied fevicol bottle on Srikanths’ hairy hands which in turn gave him a waxed look, Bodhi doing Adrians duck walk, two faced NT, Deepak- Chandu and his cycle (poor Chandu was all black-and-blue every time he asked Deepak for a ride); Parag running in hot sun around the play ground to shed some kilos after everybody had left for home, Sam (The Rock Star) and his super bike and guitar, Vinu with flowers and Shudu with her 16 cards, Our obsession with learning Bengali, Sharma sir and his sad love story (where he got married to his lover), writing a note for sanam and throwing it out of the window, Kanth banging his head on the ceiling, Usha Ashok hitting on Bodhi and NT hitting on Parag and Deepak, Priyankas’ colored hair (Ma’am thought it was coz of lack of vitamins), Deepika and her most harmonious behavior, when Parag got all cranky coz I got the most studious student title, rivalry between NT and Banjo and Ravi fueling it even more, Keshav: Mamas' boy (he wouldn't even drink water from the tap coz his mom asked him not to and would cry in front of teachers) but was everybody's eye candy, Aarti and all her nautanki (when Sam hit a stone on her specs making a huge hole in it and she thought she had lost her eye), Vinu: with duniya bhar ka oil on his head, Akshay-Sandy-PK: the trio of Commerce section, Bodhi:with his exaggeration and sarcasm, and the best one being when Deepak shaved off his mustache for the first time and Aastha was laughing the most, so to shut her up Deepaks’ reply, “Aastha I felt the same when u shaved for the first time”

…. And yet after all this scoring the highest and proving as the “Most intellectual batch” in the history of school.

I miss u

2008-12-09T22:35:00.001-08:00

We never bothered to ring her bell, but would just give her a missed call and she would understand that we were waiting under the tree behind her house. She would quietly sneak out and we would set out for yet another “Evening Walk”, full of adventure, mischief, drama, action, gossip, singing songs, playing fool, and laughing away to glory. Laughing out so loud that tears would roll down our cheeks, our stomach would start aching and people within a radius of 500 mts would know that we are upto something. We didn’t bother about anyone. We would dance like no one’s watching, we would ramp walk like we are super models, we would play like innocent kids, we would fight like wild cats (physical wrestles included), we would go up the hill and study as reading in a library was too mind-numbing, before leaving for an exam we would fight on whose vehicle is lucky and who is gonna drive, after every evening run we would hog onto Pani puri and chocolates, every second day we would be in non talking terms and detested each other so much like they are the only nasty piece of work in my life. Thanks to her we always reached college late (even though I would reach her house on time, she would take hours to eat her HEALTHY breakfast). We were partners in crime, but people loved us.

And then we pledged that we would call each other every day. Now years have passed by. We don’t call often (rather once in 2-3 months), but whenever we talk it seems like just yesterday when we would hide up in a corner of our house and talk in the middle of the night over the phone for hours, when we would wake up each other during exams and teach the portion we had learned up, when we would sit together on the railing of our terrace and spit or throw water at those who passed by, when we would cry and comfort each other. They know I love them, just like I know they love me. Now everything has changed. We have grown up, matured, experienced, responsible, and accountable but that teenager always wants to go back in time and cling. I never wanna grow up. I don’t want these responsibilities, I don’t want to live on my own, I don’t want to pay my own rent and wash my own clothes. Every day after office I wanna go home where my parents are waiting for me, where my dog comes and gives me a hug, where I cuddle up with my sister while sleeping (and she would draw a line on the bed which I was not supposed to cross), where I have something to look forward to, where they are waiting for me for an “evening walk”, where ma cooks food for me and I don’t have to bother about eating on time before the mess closes down, where Bapu would write my speeches for debate competitions, where I don’t have to bother if the bai has cleaned my room.

I miss those days. I miss them. I miss being stupid and immature (even though many of u claim that I still am stupid and immature).

I guess this is life all about CHANGE

Real problem

2008-12-05T02:52:00.000-08:00

Waking up in the morning has always been a challenge for me. When I was in school and exams on my head, I would rather study all night rather than setting up an alarm for morning. Nothing has changed since then. Even today (when I am a working woman), everyday without fail, I set up an alarm for 6 am so that I can go for a jog, work out a little before leaving for work. Everyday when I look into the mirror, I swear by myself and set up a time limit that within a month I’ll lose weight, I’ll wake up early and exercise. Par Itihaas Gawah Hai that day has never come.

But “enough is enough” I thought yesterday before sleeping and had made up my mind that if I don’t go today I’ll never lose weight. At 6 in the morning when alarm started ringing, I got up. In my sleep wore my track pants and T-shirt and lied down on bed again. I was too sleepy and could hardly open my eyes. While lying on my bed I thought of the promise I had made to myself and it terrified me. I woke up, went for a jog, came back and did some yoga, had my breakfast and everything was bang on time. I was feeling fresh and new. I saw so many people on street at 6 and thought to myself “If they can, so can I” and I will.

Only if you can overcome that moment of getting up from bed and walking to the washroom, then your battle is won. That is the only difficult part. After that life becomes easier and you feel light and healthy. (though as the day passes, you start feeling sleepy towards the afternoon=)).

I hope I can maintain this routine.

Heroes

2008-12-04T21:55:00.001-08:00

News papers are full of news about a change required in the security forces, about more rigorous training campaign for our troops, about more sophisticated weapons, and more of non corrupt and strong men to fight the bad ones and protect us. Also, while the entire world is busy debating upon how to give it back to the terrorists, media still finds time to gossip about bollywood. Who broke up with whom, who called whom fat and was called ugly in return, who is the sexiest dad of bollywood, who needs a haircut……

I wonder if Bollywood and our security forces could be linked together. Actors like Rajnikanth, Sunny Deol, Suneil Shetty, Hritik Roshan, Kamal Hassan, and Anil Kapoor should be asked to join the forces and be sent to fight wars. Just a handful of them will surely win us victory. Of course they can do it. They can fly from building to building without breaking pin drop silence, they can push 100s of people all together with their hands, they can pluck huge trees and throw it like how we throw ice balls, each one of them have an aim that could put Arjuna (from Mahabharat) to shame, they can be invisible and trace the terrorists without any hassle, especially people like Rajnikanth and Kamal Hassan who master the art of ejecting a bullet out of their body (which was shot at them) in such a way that it pierces the shooter itself. They also practice the art called “somersaultasana” i.e. they can be in air and keep rolling with feet over head and back (somersault) till all the bullets in AK-47 are exhausted and so fast that it’s difficult to trace since they travel faster than their own shadows.

We don’t need huge Army, we don’t need police or any other security force, we don’t need to spend so much on the weapons for our country, actually we don’t even need nuclear bombs, we don’t need to be scared of a few gunmen, when our heroes are there to protect us.

back to Mother earth

2008-12-04T03:46:00.000-08:00

“I can finally buy gifts for my parents without borrowing money from them”, was my first thought when I got placed. Even when the HR was talking to me and congratulating me, I couldn’t help but think of all the people I need to tell this to. I wanted to storm out of the room and call up my parents first.

The next thought was the money. In the placement room itself, with the panelists explaining us the pay structure, I was making my own calculations. “What will I do with so much money?” Where I live comfortably with Rs 3,000 a month, what will I do with the remaining 35,000/-. Even if I watch a movie every day, it will just sum up to some 3000 bucks. What will I do with the remaining? I will buy all that luxury for my parents and sister that I have always thought of. I will give it all to my sister and give a part of it to my parents, not for their daily needs, but to spend it on themselves (like the super rich people do). I suddenly felt rich.

1 month after work, when I got my first salary, I lived like a queen. I could now go to any showroom (no matter how expensive it is), I could now eat anywhere (not bothering about the prices), I could buy the cosmetics which I have always wanted to. I bought mama a diamond nose pin, went home and bought loads of gifts for Bapu, Mishti, 2 helper Bhaiyas at home. I spent like crazy. I felt rich.

Now, after 6 months of work, I am back to normal. With the LIC Policy, Hostel fees, Rentals, Commuting expenses, Hospital bills, Food, Gifts, at the end of the day I am all bankrupt. I haven’t been able to save enough money to even buy myself a phone. Now I wonder how I managed with just 3,000 a month where as now I am not even able to manage with 35,000 a month. Now I want more money. I guess this is what everybody goes through before they learn how to save.

Aftermath

2008-12-03T23:39:00.000-08:00

CEO of Yes Bank, GM of Taj along with his entire family, Ashish Chaudharys’ sister and brother inlaw and a lot of big names were killed mercilessly in the “Mumbai Terror Attack”. When I read paper on the first day that these people were also trapped inside, I knew that they will be saved because in attacks like this, big people never die. But after reading this news I am sure that terrorists really don’t discriminate.

We went to Taj , Oberoi and Nariman House after the operations were complete. It was a very pleasant moment when I saw people taking autographs, shaking hands and clicking pictures with the NSG commandos claiming that “They are the real Heroes”. For the first time someone has shown so much of concern for troops in the Army, for the first time general public has made them feel proud of themselves.

Ever since that day, there have been rallies and peace marches every where all over Mumbai. Everybody comes out on roads and lights candles to pay homage to the lost lives. Emails conveying “Vote, but vote for no-one” have been circulated all over. Banner against politicians can be seen with every youth saying that “we want to be protected like your families”. People wearing “Enough is Enough” T-shirts can be seen everywhere. Youth has finally woken up and is going door to door convincing senior citizens (who need to be told again and again) to vote for no-one. Mumbai Muslims had their own rally saying “Pakistan to be declared a Terrorist State”. Other few banners said, “Where are my Taxes?” , “Missing- Raj Thackeray” , “Don’t be scared of the ones who come through Boat, be scared of the ones who come through Vote”, “Deshmurkh- a film by Raj Gopal Verma”, “Whom are we fighting: Internal Demons or the External Terrorists” , “Politicians, kuchh to sharam Karo”. National Anthems could be heard at every corner of the city and was joined by several old aged, crippled and the entire work force.

It was a very pleasant site to see that finally the youth has woken up and was joined by many film stars too. This time the 26/11 Mumbai massacre will not go down in the history as “Another sad day to mourn” but will be written in bold letters as “The day Youth of India was awakened”.

“Gandhigiri got us Independence in 1947, This time it will be AK-47”

Feeling High

2008-12-03T23:30:00.000-08:00

I have been promoted to a Senior Officer. To many, its not a big deal since it is bound to happen after 6 months of your joining. Anybody who sticks around for 6 months and performs just about okay becomes a Senior Officer. But it is a big deal for me because I know I have done a good job. My performance Appraisal form is full of praises for me. (Not that I am boasting or anything) I got an overall FE(Far beyond Expectation) rating . Before joining everybody had warned me “Corporate world is scary, people will try to pull you down, no one helps anybody, and everyone is for themselves, especially in Mumbai its difficult coz of the cut throat competition, blah blah blah…” I was scared. Never wanting to join the corporate world and always cribbing why I couldn’t be a choreographer.

But I survived. Not only did I survive, I am “FE”… I have a perfect job, perfect Boss, perfect Colleagues, and perfect work environment. After school I never thought I could have so much fun anywhere else but now I am having lots of fun at work.

People have this notion in their immature minds that workplaces are scary, and have made a prejudice that work is to earn money so that we can spend that money with our families in the time we are not at work. To counter this, how much time do u get to spend with your family anyways? Most of the time you are in office slogging like a donkey and thinking of ways to impress your boss and make him believe that no one else is better than you. By the time you get back home you are too tired of all day thinking of how you can pull the other person down and get promoted, or simply making more business and want to relax. So when do you spend and enjoy all the money that you have earned?

Wouldn’t it be a better option to enjoy work like you enjoyed school? Help each other with work like u helped each other with studies? Help each other in meeting targets like you helped each other in assignments? Take out time for each other, Gossip, share secrets, laugh, Make fun people wearing funny dresses to office and at the same time work hard. Go to office on time and leave on time so that you have time to spare for your gym, music, hobby, etc. (Trust me office time is more than sufficient to complete your work, which is why they have dedicated 9 hours for it). But while you are in office give your 100% to work and in the tini mini breaks socialize with your colleagues.

I know, just one promotion doesn’t give me the right to give advices, but I am just too happy and wanted to share what I do to balance my social and work life. And I am glad that I am able to manage and give time to every important aspect of my life (or maybe because at this level I am not burdened with pile of work?)

26/11

2008-12-03T22:12:00.000-08:00

I heard some crackers bursting and thought that the naughty kids of the colony have gotten back to their business and got back to my movie. Soon after, it was in news, “Mumbai on War”. 10 kids (Kids they were, all aged 20-25 yrs) came by sea and set Mumbai on fire. I knew that this could be solved in few hours and Mumbai will be back to its routine soon after. But I knew very little. My hostel being so close to the attacked areas, I could hear fire shots and Grenades blasting all day and night which continued for 56 hrs. Now even a spoon falling shivers me. I have seen such scenarios on TV and movies but never saw or experienced it in person. It was very different. Where on one hand people who were trapped inside the Hotels were terrified and being killed, on the other hand people residing in the neighboring areas were all excited and enthu about the bullets being fired. Some of them would just call up their friends to make them hear the noises of Bullet shots, Blasts, people Dying, Ambulances, Taj on fire…. In spite of repeated pleas from the security forces to the public to stay in their houses, they all were on street crowding the area much more than any other usual day. I wonder if they thought a movie was being shot. When a spectator got shot on his arm, people around him started clicking his pictures instead of giving him a helping hand. Another spectator who got shot on his finger went about showing it in the camera rather than shout for help. I really amused me how people in India are so television savvy. They would go to any extent to be on television.

Media was annoying (There were mixed reactions though). Where it was providing us a service by telecasting everything live, It was also providing a service to the master planners behind these attacks by revealing our plan of actions. Considering the part where it was a hindrance in carrying out the entire operation, I wonder what they want. Do they want to get every news before even the people in action get it? Or do they want to cover every incidence before it has actually taken place?

Another question that was running in my mind was “Where was the so efficient Mumbai Police?” Just a couple of days back I had been to a function organized by Bollywood to salute Mumbai Police as they are the most efficient police after Scotland’s. At that moment I wondered if these “civilians” have ever conducted such shows for the Army? Have these civilians ever been to J&K and seen how everything is being managed by the Army? Have they ever known a person who has been posted in the Border and stays away from family for years? Have they ever known a person who has killed people(which is not easy) so that they don’t kill you? Have they realized that the only force that is efficient and non corrupt and disciplined is the Indian Army? The only force that comes to rescue when our nation is in danger is the Indian Army. So why aren’t such shows conducted for us? Well, my point was proven right. Now the entire nation agrees with me that Indian Army rocks. When Police of Mumbai couldn’t do anything (not even prevent these terrorists from entering the Mumbai border), they called on the Army to protect them. When we heard army helicopters above our building, we knew that we are gonna be safe now. Then I was proud to be an Army officer’s daughter.