just a few scribbles...

Movies I watched in 2011

2011-12-31T23:12:00.000-08:00

S.N. Date Time (hrs) Cinema Movie

1 25th Jan'11 11:00 ANURADHA-Guwahati-THE TOURIST
2 03rd Feb'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DIL TOH BACHHA HAI JI
3 06th Feb'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-YEH SAALI ZINDAGI
4 11th Feb'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-PATIALA HOUSE
5 18th Feb'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-SAAT KHOON MAAF
6 25th Feb'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-TANU WEDS MANU
7 28th Feb'11 14:00 VANDANA-Guwahati-RAAMDHENU (assamese)
8 04th Mar'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-YEH FAASLEY
9 09th Mar'11 11:00 ANURADHA-Guwahati-DHOBI GHAT
10 11th Mar'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-AASHIQUI.IN
11 12th Mar'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-UNITED 6
12 18th Mar'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-ONGBAK3
13 23rd Jun'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-BHEJA FRY 2
14 23rd Jun'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-ALWAYS KABHI KABHI
15 27th Jun'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DOUBLE DHAMAAL
16 01st Jul'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DELHI BELLY
17 02nd Jul'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-BBUDDHA HOGA TERA BAAP
18 08th Jul'11 10:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DOUBLE DHAMAAL
19 16th Jul'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-ZINDAGI NA MILEGI DOBARA
20 17th Jul'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-CHILLAR PARTY
21 28th Jul'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-SINGHAM
22 31st Jul'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-BUBBLEGUM
23 06th Aug'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-AGAH: THE WARNING
24 07th Aug'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-CHALA MUSSADI OFFICE OFFICE
25 13th Aug'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-AARAKSHAN
26 01st Sept'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-BODYGUARD
27 09th Sept'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-MERE BROTHER KE DULHAN
28 16th Sep'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-THAT GIRL IN YELLOW BOOTS
30 23rd Sep'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-MAUSAM
29 03rd Oct'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-FORCE
30 04th Oct'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-SAHEB, BIWI AUR GANGSTER
31 14th Oct'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-RASCALS
32 22nd Oct'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-MY FRIEND PINTO
33 30th Oct'11 18:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-RA.ONE
34 13th Nov'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-ROCKSTAR
35 26th Nov'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DESI BOYZ
36 02nd Dec'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-THE DIRTY PICTURE
37 09th Dec'11 11:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-LADIES VS RICKY BAHL
38 09th Dec'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-LANKA

39 23rd Dec'11 14:00 RHINO CINEMA-Satgaon-DON2

Downloaded/DVD watches-

READY

SHAITAN

RAGINI MMS

LOVE EXPRESS

LOVE U MR.KALAKAAR

SHAGIRD

NAUGHTY @ 40

HAUNTED

SHOR IN THE CITY

F.A.L.T.U

DUM MARO DUM
TERE MERE PHERE
HUM TUM SHABANA
MUJHSE FRAANDSHIP KAROGE?

I have you!

2011-09-20T09:03:00.000-07:00

When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible. That happened to me exactly two years ago. The start was rosy, though before long I was put back to the harsh reality of the challenges that were to be faced by an army wife. Duty called and my husband was gone...still is. In 2 years of marriage, we have seen 6 places and been together for about 10 months or so. But still, it feels like yesterday when it all started. Nothing much has changed, really... I still can't get enough of waiting for his call every day, the rush I get at the thought of preparing for the day when he comes home, the vanity of a teenager that pleases me when he gets jealous, the sheer joy of seeing him in our daughter who looks exactly like her father...

Sometimes when the going gets tough, my light goes out but is blown right back into flame by him again and I realize that love knows not its own depth until the time of separation. I owe him my deepest thanks for rekindling my light, for giving me strength and courage to carry on during long separations and for loving me so; for telling me that he loves me, when I need to hear it the most; for making me feel that just because we are wed the courtship's not at an end and for promising me that the best is yet to be.

...'cause there is no medicine like hope, no incentive so great as being with him and no tonic so powerful as the expectation of seeing him soon and being together for eternity!

The ya ya Sisterhood of Indian Army Wives

2011-06-28T19:30:00.000-07:00

Ask any army man in any part of the world what keeps him going, and he will answer, "My Wife!" So, never take your title lightly, all you army wives, for you are the backbone of your soldier. Not every woman can do this. It takes a very special & courageous woman to stand behind her man when he is out on field for months at a time. It is the spirit and stamina in the lady that helps her face the physical and mental challenges of everyday life. Oh no, not just any woman will do. Only the one wedded to the Olive Green can handle this challenge.

Just think...Can just any woman stand on the pier with a baby in her arms and one on the way, and keep a stiff upper lip as she waves good-bye to her husband, keeping back the tears for "the child(ren)’s sake"? Can just any woman lay alone night after night, for months and months at a time being the sole guardian of her family? Can just any woman get 2 weeks notice to pack up her whole household, pass an inspection, load the car, say a quick good-bye to girlfriends who became like sisters and take off for yet another duty station only to begin all over again? Can just any woman take the loneliness and heartbreak of having no tender kisses, gentle touches or of hearing the voice of her husband day after day? Can just any woman be a mother, doctor, maid, chauffeur, umpire, psychologist, financial consultant, tooth fairy, Santa, the Easter Bunny, the main disciplinarian and STILL enforce the love and discipline of an absent father?? Not likely!

So all the ladies in the Army wives sisterhood share a common bond...of love, understanding & sharing. 'cause most often than not, they stand in each others' shoes.

But a few ladies from the army-wives sisterhood have been persistently bugging me and causing me discomfort of the heart and mind, especially at a time which is considered to be the most important in a woman’s life...the time when she’s on the family way. I baptize those ladies as my army-step-sisters.

The one who caused me much hurt was the one who used to be the closest & dearest sister I once had. Till date, I could never understand her behavior which she displayed the last time I ever heard of her. This sister-turned-stepsister used to be my friend, my confidant & my partner in crime. We were like two new entrants in the army sisterhood who learned most rules together from our blunders & follies. I would have gone on believing that we were very fond of each other & gave each other strength, being there for each other through our cloudy days...till I was proven wrong by what she did. She had broken that unsaid rule which bonded us in the sisterhood. She conspired and stabbed me from behind. I don’t know how she or her dearest one must have been benefited by what she did. She instigated someone against me that had consequences I will neither forgive, nor forget in my entire life. It caused me a lot of inconveniences and utter grief in the last few days of my pregnancy and must have definitely affected my baby too in some way or the other. What is it that people say about an idle mind being a devil's workshop? Somebody get her piles of work for the FWO (family welfare organization) programmes quick! before she conspires against someone else too.
Not only me, but even God should not forgive anyone who were involved in that conspiracy. I have only one question for that woman... “Why?”

The second step-sister’s behavior isn’t that hurtful, because the intensity of our love, trust & friendship was not that strong. We had a love-hate relationship from the very beginning. I didn’t expect anything at all from her & can’t comment much on her expectations from me. If given a choice, I would usually choose to stay away from people of such nature and never ever confide in a person like her. Though, I must say, she had been good to me on certain occasions & we also have had our share of good times together. Just too bad, I’m not into sucking up of anybody’s anything as per her whims. To quote in another lady’s words, “That ‘ice-maiden’ & her ‘little assistant’ are two big suckers you’ve got there.”
This one irked me by questioning me about a private matter at a time when she should have inquired about my health and about the baby’s development and if I needed any help while my husband was away. Not that she has done herself proud by following every rule in the book to the dot. Her ‘little assistant’ had passed on enough information to me that can embarrass ‘ice-maiden’ if she is worth her salt. So just one message for her too... “If you live in a glass house, its better to change your clothes in the basement.”

The third step-sisterly behavior displayed together by two ladies I hardly even know. Both are mothers of two children each. And something led them to believe that a local maid I hired from outside, was better and more trustworthy than the ones available for work within the campus and that they should ‘steal’ that maid from me by offering to pay her more and that, when I was 36 weeks pregnant.. I still smile at the immaturity of the combined act displayed by them. They better have some good explanation for that kind of unladylike behavior. “Hey there, step-sisters, guess what? Maids don’t control my life as they do yours, but what were you thinking? I hope your husbands aren’t stolen from someone else either.”

I would have never chosen to have to go through this phase of life or meet such ladies so insensitive towards another lady’s feelings & hardship. They cannot be sisters; they are step-sisters! I kept saying just that to myself and sailed through. I somehow kept my thoughts positive through all these, in spite of as difficult as it got. But I have found that all these experiences have strengthened me as a person and brought me and my husband closer to each other than ever before. It has shown me that the things I used to find important in life, well, just aren't as important as I once thought they were. I couldn't wait for my husband to come home almost till the time my baby arrived, but I was determined to hold on. And he was sent away the very next day after the baby came. I was angry, annoyed, helpless, sad. But I became stronger because of what I had to go through. I found strength in me that I never knew existed before. I found out who my real friends were and who weren't, who supported me through difficult times and who didn't care. And then I discovered a few real sisters, not related by birth or blood, but belonging to the same sisterhood. Where known sisters turned into step-sisters, there friendly strangers took over.

The First Lady of a separate Arm, made it her first prerogative to take care of my well being. She would drop by nearly every day to check on me & make sure personally if I was okay; if I needed any medical attention. She kept a vehicle on standby even at night just to take me to the doctor if anything should happen at the night time. She would always bring me a portion of home-cooked food & share funny jokes, just to brighten up my gloomy mood. Day by day our friendship grew. I would tell her my sob stories and she would share her experiences & say, “this too shall pass”. She gave me all the love & strength that I needed from an elder sister or from my own unit's First Lady. But Alas! So, I can never repay her kindness towards me. She will remain special to me forever.

Then there is this other lady (also a senior and from a separate Div) who would knock at my door at any time of the day and check on me. She’d tell me what to eat & what not to eat before the baby was born and took me out for morning and evening walks. After the baby was born, she helped me with a lot of important things which were either forgotten to be told or ignored by the doctors. Even till this date, there is never a day when she goes somewhere without asking if I’d like to come along or if she can get me anything from the market when she goes out. I know, she will remain my lifelong sister and friend.

There was a time when my neighbor from the top-floor provided me with pure drinking water just after I had moved in to our accommodation and before I got my water purifier in place. That is the noblest of things that someone can do to an 8-month pregnant woman.

And then another lady who used to drive me to the shopping complex & movie theater every time I wanted to. Yet another one I met at a short-term course, loved my baby like her own and would baby-sit when I’d take my shower or cook. There were yet another couple of them who shared recipes & handicraft notes of classes I wasn’t able to attend with my baby only a month old.

Such friendly strangers, whose husbands are either with them or also away on field, together we often marvel at how we are making it through the separation, but really, we are surviving. We are continuing with our lives. Sometimes it seems hopeless, but we are making it through this and are much stronger for it. If I were not able to have someone like them here to help me keep a positive outlook, it would have been much more difficult for me to sail through. Such ladies truly deserve love and respect. I consider them my army-sisters and we enjoy each others company while our husbands are away serving the nation.

If any new bride wedded to the olive green is reading this, I encourage you to actively search for that special someone in the sisterhood you can connect with, who will neither bitch behind your back nor will be totally insensitive to your being and situation, but will be goodhearted and genuine in nature. If you already have, keep that friendship alive and cherish it for lifetime.

Why I like celebrating HOLI

2011-03-18T05:39:00.000-07:00

The festivitiy of HOLI go back a long time and holds a lot of significance in my life. Right from my very childhood, I have seen my father prepare and get involved in the festival whole-heartedly. He'd prepare us a liquid magenta dye from the seeds of a local vegetable, for our 'pichkaris' and give us dry indigo to be used as powder-colour. Our colours always stood out, did not stay for long and were much safer than the synthetic dyes and 'gulal' available in the local markets. Dad would also prepare the finest 'thandai' sans 'bhaang' with lots of dry fruits. Ma would be busy mixing loads of 'sweet boondi' with 'bhujiya' and have her sweets ready for all our visiting neighbours & playmates. It was always exciting for us on holi as we wouldn't even sit at our study tables on those 2 days of the festival and would start playing right from the moment we finished our breakfast. The first day would be the dry-colour day and the second day would be the wet-colour day. Nonetheless, both the days were equally fun. The neighbours' stopover would always be at our house, especially for the special treat that ma & dad always offered. Every year it was a customary thing for us and I grew up seeing this household tradition till I grew up to be 21. This festival always allowed us to blend our sensivities with a certain joi-de-vivre. That was then.

After I moved to Delhi, I was introduced to a quite different and shocking culture of playing holi there. People, especially young boys and even the not-so-young boys would have small balloons filled with water ready about a week before the actual festival. They would aim and throw these water-balloons hitting passerbys, especially girls and women, at vulgarly embarrassing places. It wasn't fun to turn up at a class or at the workplace with a wet shirt-front or a seat-wet jeans. Nobody would or could say anything to these 'goons' as they would have their cheesy line ready...bura na maano, holi hai! (don't mind, it's holi!). And since one couldn't escape this torture in the name of a beautiful festival, the best thing to do was either to stay indoors or somehow avoid venturing out in the prime hours of the day. On the actual days of the festival, it got even worse. With access to alchohol and bhaang, people quickly turned into demons and in the name of camaraderie it became a festival that was vulgar and boorish. It no longer evoked a sense of choice as much as it evoked a sense of force. And I began detesting Holi with all my heart through my entire stay in Delhi.

Then last year I celebrated Holi (to use the cliche) with gay abandon, fun and frolic...my first after marriage, with my husband and his entire unit and brigade. It was very special and a great equaliser. It brought back good old memories of my childhood Holi and in a way I got emotional and salubrious, especially to watch my spouse celebrate the festival with equal enthusiasm and vigour as I remembered my dad doing it years ago. We smeared colours on one another, had bhaang-thandai with snacks, got drenced from head to toe, sang and danced and finally rounded it off with a sit-down luncheon with the entire unit. It was indeed a festival of colours, fun and happiness. It really didn't matter which colour was in fashion...as long as you knew who was going to dab it on you and that your special one is watching over you, assuring that no one went overboard to an annoying extent. It was about sharing, not about hoarding. And I fell in love with the festival once again.

This year, though I'll be missing celebrating holi with my husband, on the brighter side, I'm spoiled for choice whether to be home to enjoy this wonderful festival of colours once again with my loved ones in our old wonderful customary tradition, or to share this colourful festival with other families of defence at the club. Guess I'll choose one day of each. Happy Holi to one and all!

What I'm missing the most these days

2011-03-05T22:27:00.000-08:00

For the last 8 months, I have been deprived of some mundane daily pleasures that I never fully appreciated… until they were gone.Whether it's longing for a second cup of coffee or desperately missing skinny jeans, I am weighing in a few pre-pregnacy perks I plan to enjoy once the baby is born.

Being carefree, independent & unforgetful. I miss being the independent woman I had always been. People (esp the ones who care for me) won't let me do anything for myself. I can still do a lot of stuff – slowly, mind you! but I can still do it. I miss my mind. I can't remember things or be detail oriented. I forget everything and make really dumb errors now. I used to be extremely efficient but now I really feel I'm sluggishly inefficient. I don't feel as sharp or on the ball. And I forget a lot. The more 'ditzy' I feel, the more I feel like I'm less of a strong, smart, independent woman. My friends and family members want to help with everything when they come over. My mom makes me sit down while she cooks and even brings me food to last for atleast 2-3 weeks or atleast till her next visit. I hate doing chores, but I also feel stupid sitting there twiddling my fingers while my mother or the domestic help work around trying to make things easy for me. I also miss my independence. I need help moving objects around the house. I often need to ask for help doing things that used to be so easy. I miss dancing until I can't dance anymore. Now I can barely walk straight, only waddle.

Emotional Control. I miss my old attitude (because apparently this one is too soppy). Everything makes me cry – either happy tears or sad tears. I miss having control of my emotions. I'm so tired of breaking down over silly stuff (like over a book I read or even watching a movie I've watched so many times before...without crying). I'm nagging and a grumpy nervous freak, cranky, irritable and crying over every silly thing in the world. I'm so tired of being overly emotional like this but also can't seem to help it. I want my nonchalantly happy & carefree attitude back....soon.

Peaceful sleep. I miss sleeping on my back and stomach, not using the bathroom every hour or so. I miss sleeping a full night and getting out of bed without having to roll off. At 34 weeks, even sleeping on my side is impossible. I have to sleep sitting up at times, which makes dreams weirder and headaches are almost a given. Right now (4 weeks to go) I need to be surrounded by pillows to be comfortable for the few hours of sleep that I get. No comfortable sleeping position or even sleeping at all! A great night consists of two uninterrupted hours without any back or abdominal pain, and not getting out of bed at 5a.m. because I'm tired of just lying there trying to get some sleep. I can't seem to keep my eyes open past 10p.m. but once I fall asleep, it doesn't last long because I get these vicious kicks to the bladder from my diva in training. Maybe this is mother nature's way of preparing me for the baby's arrival and the night stay-ups to follow.

A normal sense of smell. Before, I think I had an average sense of smell, but now it's sharp. Like a diva, I've abruptly left restaurants because of a disturbing smell..esp of chicken or prawns. I used to love chicken and all kinds of non-veg food. But now I can't even bear the thought of chicken, let alone smelling or eating it. The super-sniffer has its not-so-good points, like being able to distinguish people's horrible body odour or stinky socks, even hours after they have gone. I earnestly hope to get back my normal sense of smell after my pregnancy ends.

Off-limit food. I've craved runny eggs so badly ever since becoming pregnant, I almost don't want to eat. For that matter, I even miss the sheer joy of eating. For my entire pregnancy, eating has been tainted by morning & evening sickness, followed by heartburn and indigestion. The biggest thing I look forward to after giving birth is eating loads of KFCs, unlimited slices of pepperoni pizza and lots of sunny-side-up poached eggs.

Caffeinating. The 3 Cs...Coke, coffee & chocolate… sweet Lord… I crave for them all the time. I occasionally drink a regular soda or have an occasional cuppa, but I'd like to drink more of them. And chocolates! I just can't have enough of them. I know they're bad, but I really miss them in my system way too much than ever before.

Wine & beer. I'm not a drinker in the least, but I miss my wine. After a long stressful day or with a really good meal, there's nothing like a nice glass of wine. And I miss beer too, when it's hot and humid out. I miss the taste of an ice-cold beer and being able to have one whenever I want... on my balcony on a nice warm day or before dinner, enjoying it while watching my favourite soap on tv. Guess, I still have a long time to go before laying my hands on a mug or a flute.

Sexy shoes. I really, really, really miss my collection of heels, fancy dressy shoes, sexy stilettoes and all the pretty shoes my usually tiny feet could fit into earlier. I'm so sick of practical (though comfy) walking shoes, and although I love my slip-ons and flat pumps, I'm sick of having to wear those too, almost at all times. My feet aren't swollen so much as puffy, so my feet don't look good in cute shoes. I'm sure my shoes and cute sandals all miss me too. And yeah, I also miss being able to tie my own shoes, that's why now its always strap-ons or slip-ons. Can't just wait to put my feet into a sexy pair of high-heels again.

Dressing up. The sexy diva doesn't look so sexy anymore with her belly wiggling and portruding and hair not so sleek and shiny. I miss getting my hair done! I miss being sexy, 'cause I don't feel that way very much. I'm huge and uncomfortable and I miss my cute outfits. I used to be quite proud of my super-toned pre-pregnancy body. I miss my cute little belly button and the naval piercing I had till a few days ago, but I eventually had to take off the ring once my naval started expanding and popping out. I miss my abs and oh! having adorably pedicured feet. Will I ever be able to wear my nice old clothes and shoes again?

And most of all, I miss My Husband. Ever since he visited me after 4 months of separation and left again for his post, I have been missing him even more than ever before. I miss being able to snuggle with my husband in bed and falling asleep holding him. All that I want is be with him again and be pampered by him like he did when he was here. I want him to be here with me at the time of the baby's arrival.

But all said and done, the love, pampering and attention I get, the anticipation of the baby's arrival and the sheer joy of feeling the baby move inside me... that is all which takes to keep me going and I wouldn't trade this phase for anything else in the whole wide world.

My Valentine!

2011-02-14T07:16:00.000-08:00

My baby, you're not out in this world yet,
We've seen you in the ultrasound, though never in person met.
My world changed forever the day you were conceived
Your heartbeat takes me to the reality of what I've achieved.
Seen all the tiny toes in both your feet
Just can't wait till the day we meet.
Seen your eyes, nose and also your mouth
I think you have a lovely little pout.
Seen your arms, legs and belly too
Barely 2 more months until you're due.
Darling, you're connected with my umbilical cord
But the way you lie in there, I feel you're really bored.
Heard the sound of your heart beating so fast
I'm really getting impatient now, till I get to hold you at last.
Soon will come the day when I'll hold you in my arms,
Hoping to protect you from every harm.
I feel ecstatic when you move inside the womb of mine
This time o' little one, I take you as my Valentine!
As you grow with lightning speed, I'm treasuring each day
Promising to myself, I'll give you a rainbow even when the sky is dull & grey.

CRAZY NO MORE...

2011-01-01T00:44:00.000-08:00

I was in my usual bind when New Year’s Eve came around. It was time to assess the past year and, if there was something I felt needed improvement, to resolve to do better. The familiar candidates came to mind: travel a lot, paint, cook passionately, laugh more, break more rules and try to be more organized. In short, I'd promise to live my usual crazy life acting on impulse at every step... do stuff I'm really passionate about... speak my mind out... the works. They sound familiar because each year I make almost the same resolutions and each year I'd follow some and break some. With 1 year of marriage, 4 station changes and 9 months of wait for a family quarter, our stuff is still in a chaotic state, I am still waiting for some help from husband's unit to come over and unpack our household belongings, and the very thought of organising our quarter to give it a 'home' feel and look, has become a dirty thought. Living out of a suitcase in every destination we changed for the last 9 months, my 'own space' currently at my parents' house has become a testament to chaos and craziness. There are piles of books on my computer desk and some more scattered on the bed. The computer chair I placed near the desktop table for reading and typing or for the convenience of an occasional guest, is usually used as my clothes-stand. Sometimes, its more of a magazine rack, laden with so many back issues there is no room to actually sit on it to read. So much that visiting friends/relatives sometimes have to sit on my bed when I don't get a prior notice to clear the chair of clothes or magazines. It isn’t pretty. I assured myself I could—and would—finally clear it up… starting today. Or maybe tomorrow(?!). I would make my resolution to be very neat and organised wherever I am and stick to it! But first I needed to go to the market before it closed for the evening, to pick up a birthday gift for my little cousin. Then on to the cleaners. The carpenter would arrive post lunch to make modifications to my old book-rack and frame an oil painting I had made. I also promised I would meet my friends later in the evening. And somewhere in there I had to make time to work on a writing assignment I had accepted and whose deadline was racing uncomfortably close.

By the time I returned home from the market, I barely had time to put everything away before getting dressed for the evening. My husband reached to celebrate New Year's eve with me and we were going out first for the birthday dinner at my cousin's, then meeting up with close friends to celebrate New Year's eve.
“Let’s go,” he calls after getting ready around 9-ish. “It’s getting late.”

I leave a cascade of tried and discarded outfits on my bed and rush out with him to my uncle's. We have a great family time there and since we can't manage to get an available cab service with a driver who agrees to take us around town, party-hopping after 9pm, we cancel the plan of meeting up with friends for tonight. Nonetheless, we have an amazingly awesome 'family time' with good food, laughter and happiness. We come home a little after midnight. I am too tired to fold and put the pile of unworn clothes away, so I dump them onto the 'chair' at the foot of the bed, toss the bedspread over them, and crawl under the covers with a warm and snuggly hubby. We fall asleep almost instantly.

In the morning, on the first day of the New Year 2011, I know I am already in trouble. I take out my journal and write the almost familiar 11 resolutions (11, since its 2011)...

1. I will keep my space sparkling clean, no matter wherever I live.

2. I will travel more with or without the husband.

3. I will get more organized and follow a routine.

4. I will stop putting off things for later if I could finish them much earlier.

5. I will get a new job before the year ends.

6. I will spend less on shoes, clothes and perfumes.

7. I will watch more movies.

8. I will paint a lot.

9. I will start writing a book.

10.I will never compromise/sacrifice on anything my heart really wants.

11.I will continue to be my crazy self whether someone likes it or not.

I ponder over these written words, though, I am almost certain I would break most or all of them. I close the journal. What is the use? I am overwhelmed by the resolutions and I almost never follow them. It is too hard to stick to some of your old habits when you have new people, new committments and new relationships in your life. I go downstairs to my mom's kitchen and making 2 strong cups of tea for hubby and me, bring them upstairs in a thermos. Hubby is still snoring away, smiling ocassionally at me opening a squinty eye, then drifting back to his lazy morning slumber tucked under the cozy mink blanket.

I pour myself a cup of steaming tea and sipping on it, take a look at my resolutions jotted down neatly. I resent the pattern I have created for myself, yet can’t see my way out of it. In my guilt-ridden wanderings around the room, I brush against the chair and some of the clothes fall to the floor. As I bend down slowly to pick them up, underneath the computer table, I see a book I had recently bought at the book fair. It is a 'how-to' book on getting organized. I had bought it thinking I would get around to reading it, but not surprisingly, I put it off and was slowly beginning to forget about it. Now I suddenly can't wait to read it. It helps me see that I don’t need to do it all immediately... that I can prioritise things in my life depending on their changing importance. I can tackle one small thing at a time. I can make a schedule and follow it. I can start slowly. I can do one project each day instead of trying to do it all at once. I finally conclude I can break the pattern.

Our baby moves in my womb.

“I’m sorry,” I tell baby. “How could I have forgotten you all this while? You are now the first priority in my life. I love you so much.”

And then it strikes me all at once and everything suddenly becomes so clear. I know what I should do. I grab my journal and cross out what I have written before. Then I write my resolution for this year... not eleven, not ten, but one resolution.

My only resolution this year is to be a responsible person. A responsible wife, a responsible mother, a responsible daughter and that means I'd be CRAZY NO MORE.

A very happy and prosperous New Year 2011 to one and all.

Movies I watched in 2010

2010-12-30T19:38:00.000-08:00

S.N. Date Time Cinema Movie
1 18th Jan'10 13:20hrs PVR-Select Citywalk (Saket) AVATAR (3 D)
2 19th Jan'10 10:00hrs PVR-Anupam (Saket) DID U HEAR ABOUT THE MORGANS
3 19th Jan'10 13:30hrs PVR-Anupam (Saket) CASE 39
4 16th Apr'10 11:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) PATHSHALA
5 16th Apr'10 14:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) PHOONK 2
6 30th Apr'10 14:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) HOUSEFULL
7 09th May'10 11:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) BADDMASH COMPANY
8 01st May'10 16:00hrs PVR-Inorbit Mall (Mumbai) SHREK 4-FOREVER AFTER
9 12th Jun'10 19:25hrs CINEMAX (Nashik Road) RAAJNEETI
10 22nd Jun'10 22:00hrs CINEMAX-City Centre Mall (Nashik) RAAVAN
11 19th Aug'10 14:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) PEEPLI LIVE
12 06th Sep'10 14:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) WE ARE FAMILY
13 19th Sep'10 17:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) DABAANG
14 03rd Oct'10 14:00hrs ANURADHA (Guwahati) ANJANA ANJANI

DOWNLOADED/TV WATCHES:

NO PROBLEM

MY NAME IS KHAN

STRIKER

I HATE LUV STORYS

KHATTA MEETHA

ONCE UPON A TIME IN MUMBAI

ISHQIYA

KNOCKOUT

UDAAN

INCEPTION
ACTION REPLAYY
LAFANGEY PARINDEY
PHAS GAYE RE OBAMA
AISHA
BREAK KE BAAD
WANTED
ATITHI TUM KAB JAOGE
RAKHT CHARIT
GOLMAAL3
TEES MAAR KHAN

MOVIES I NEED TO WATCH:

DO DOONI CHAAR

LOVE SEX AUR DHOKHA

HARISCHANDRACHI FACTORY

ANTARDWAND

THE JAPANESE WIFE

DUNNO Y…NA JAANE KYON
SOCIAL NETWORK
DUE DATE
UNSTOPPABLE
KHELEIN HUM JEE JAAN SEY
GUZAARISH
KITES
AAKROSH

Thank you, Santa!

2010-12-25T17:53:00.000-08:00

(Or was it really the FedEx delivery guy I should be thanking?!)

I always wanted to believe that Christmas wishes really are granted. Now I have a reason to believe that. I can only remember wishing for something for Christmas as a child. One year, when I was about 6 years old, I remember wishing for my two front teeth as I stood behind the Christmas tree at our school church, because they took a long, long time in sprouting back again after I lost them milk teeth. And since I didn’t like to be teased and bullied by all to smile and show my toothless grin, I had really hoped that Santa would put them back in place. That was then. After that Christmas, I don’t remember ever asking Santa for any Christmas gifts, since I would be mostly occupied with the celebrations of the festive season with family or friends.

But this year was different and I had made a secret wish to Santa.

What I wanted most of all this Christmas was for my husband to come and visit me since we had not seen each other for a week over four months now. As every time my husband would prepare to come for leave, something or the other would happen and he would always be called back, leave cancelled. This has happened for atleast 3-4 times now in the last 4 months. So, I was almost certain that I won’t get to see him at least before another couple of months, but look what I found on my front porch at 5 a.m. on Christmas eve …

Thank you Santa, for bringing me so much joy this Christmas.
I know I'd be really pushing my luck if I ask for more, but can you send him again for New Year's too? Pleeeease.....

Happy Birthday, darling!

2010-12-04T00:57:00.000-08:00

I never realised before how blessed I am to be married to you. After exactly 1 year, 2 months and 2 weeks, things have slowly started sinking into my cute little head. Little did I know what lay ahead of us when I vowed, "... for better or worse, in sickness and health, till death do us apart." 'cause that time I had a very rosy picture in my mind and mostly dreamt of being together with you. I even bragged at times saying Who needs a man on a white horse who carries a sword and wears a shiny armour, when I have got a man who drives a tank, shoots a gun and wears a combat uniform. Never did I realise then, that the OG uniform would involve so many sacrifices on our part, especially that we'd have to stay away from each other for such long durations. But now I know exactly how difficult it is for you to be doing what you do and how hard it is for me to stay away from you for this long. It has already been 3 and a half months since I last saw you in person and it seems this time the wait is never going to end. Though I hear your voice every day on the phone, my heart still misses a beat everytime I get a call from you. Sometimes when you go on an odd-hour patrolling, I break down and cry, praying constantly for your safe return. And only when I get a call back from you that you are back in your room safe and sound, can I fall asleep in peace. I'm scared to watch the local news without keeping my fingers crossed and wanting your safety more than anybody else's.
I don't want my tears to make you weak. They only mean I love you more and more every day and I feel so proud of being your wife. I miss terribly the warmth and love of your touch and the feel of just being held in your arms. The only thing which keeps me going strong inspite of everything, is the rush that I get when I feel the presence of your love growing inside me day after day. And that makes me smile... very often.
I had really hoped you could come home for your birthday today and given me a chance to do something special for you. But as in the army country comes before family, so here's waiting and counting down the days till I see you again. And this is the part which seems to be so damn hard.
Happy Birthday, darling! I miss you so much...

Jus' lyin' around doin' nothin'

2010-11-26T00:37:00.000-08:00

Just as my husband dropped me at my hometown Guwahati, preparing to leave for his new location further ahead in the northeast, I was not too sad this time. I had fancy plans of taking up a job here to keep myself occupied. But not before long, we discovered to our utter joy that the stork would be visiting us in another 9 months. So hubby left for his new location leaving me in the custody of my parents and requesting me to not even think about taking up a job till I completed my first trimester.

Though I took his advise quite casually and continued my search for a job, to my horror I found out that no organisation is ready to employ a candidate who has recently conceived. My immediate reactions on being rejected by good companies on such a ground, ranged from disappointment, shock and surprise to plain outrage. My husband, parents and ma-in-law were clearly upset with me even for taking up those odd freelance assignments which helped me keep myself busy. So finally I had to put aside all doubts and misgivings and decided stay at home, after all.

As I entered my second trimester, my doctor saw that there was some forthcoming complication because I was not taking adequate rest and recommended a total bedrest for an entire month. This time I had no choice to even try something creative online. I was asked to lie down in bed at all times and could get up only to eat or to go to the bathroom. Till a year ago, while I was still in a hectic fulltime job, I would have loved to be in such a situation where I was recommended a 'forced' bedrest. But now, since I had nothing much to do anyway and no job whatsoever, I knew that I could only keep myself sane if I kept myself intellectually satisfied and creatively occupied. So, the first thing I did was that I asked my husband to somehow manage to send me all the unread books that were lying with him in his boxes. Also, I asked my friends, cousins and parents to get me all the books that I had on my 'to-buy' list. And day by day, as I lay in bed recovering, I devoured history, poetry, gossip and all the latest bestsellers. I had ample time on my hands to go through every detail of the daily newspapers and read Femina, Good-housekeeping, Cosmopolitan and Outlook Traveller, cover to cover at one go.

My dad fixed a portable tv in my room, so when I got bored of all the reading, I switched on to my favourite programmes on the tele. I was never much of a tv-person. But now I discovered quite some good and useful programmes that are shown on the tv.

Sometimes my old friends in town would pay me a visit and make me laugh and feel good. My closest girlfriend in town would come and visit me, her baby in tow and while both of us chatted away to glory, laughing and bitching and filling our hearts with small passionate girlie-gossip, her daughter would play by my side on my bed, allowing me the pleasure of consuming her delicious smell of milk-n-baby powder. That has such a healing power in itself, its amazing. My best friend would call up from Delhi and fill me up with all the gory details of her metro life, making sure I was not missing even a single bit of the spice in her life that I used to once share. My sister and another dear friend from Mumbai would call up and spend long hours with me on the phone regularly, leaving me smiling and with a happy heart. My ma would cook up the most simplest yet delicious food that I'd be craving for and my dad took care of all my doctor visits, reports, medicines and injections that was prescribed for me. Ma and I would have long conversations usually before or after lunch, when she'd manage to get some free time after all the household chores. They are such energy boosters for me to drag through the days. Sometimes my cousins and relatives would drop by and say hello to me, since I could not go out anywhere.

Apart from the entertainment and social interaction, I thoroughly enjoyed these people visiting me as each of them had to offer something valuable and special in their own unique way and each of them taught me something in return. While someone gave me tips on what kind of soothing music to listen to, someone else would advice me to wear very loose fitting clothes for easy comfort and breathing. Someone would give me invaluable tips on childcare while others would chalk down lists for me on what to eat and what not to eat.

After completing a month in bed, dreaming, consuming knowledge, entertainment and soulful music, I have started writing more regularly now. And held my paintbrush in my hand after almost 9 months.

Though I miss my husband terribly and long to see him and be with him, yet I have so many things and people around me to make me constantly feel pampered as a queen. Now, I can only smile because hey, just lying around doing nothing has been a great learning experience and a very well enjoyable one as well. Can't just wait for motherhood now :-)

Here comes the Fall...

2010-10-31T03:06:00.001-07:00

I love the fall. Maybe that's why I was blessed with an Autumn wedding. I missed this season in my entire 11 years of stay in Delhi. There, you never get to enjoy either spring or fall... only summers and winters. Hence, this year has been all the more special. I am home and the mark of Autumn has started with our 1st wedding anniversary.
To me, 'fall' signifies the heady whiff of 'xewali phool' or the night-jasmine flowers (those tiny white flowers with a saffron centre and stem) which bloom by night and fall down by morning. The tantalising peek-a-boo chill of the early morning mist, when you feel comfortably numb with a blanket thrown over to catch that extra half-an-hour's sleep. The sipping of lemon-tea sitting in the balcony amidst the little greenery that's still left on the trees and starting the countdown to those cold and foggy winter mornings' hot ginger milk tea.
Fall always make the markets turn a little more interesting than ever, with new designs of clothes and shoes and a variety of things to buy as festive gifts for friends and relatives. Just the right time and excuse for some retail therapy, more so, as it is customary. Even the local markets turn colourful, with the endless variety of fruits and vegetables that the season has to offer, resulting in heavier fares from everyone's kitchens.
Fall marks the start of a colourful festive season lined up from Durga Puja, Laksmi Puja, Kati Bihu, Diwali, Eid and Christmas, that eventually leads to a bright new year. Durga puja is always a community affair, where the whole neighbourhood chips in and not only take pride but clamour to help in. Dusshera always sees the whole neighbourhood gather in for some community function after the idols are sent for immersion and the nonchalant calorie-indulgence in gobbling up piping hot jalebis. The sprucing up of the house for Laksmi Puja and pre-diwali clean-up always means cleaning and polishing locked away silver and brass utensils and those small twinkling electric lights to do up the building on Diwali night and light up numerous diyas (earthen lamps) and burn crackers and fireworks with the family and neighbours. More indulgence with calorie-induced diwali-sweets (made in pure desi-ghee) and dry-fruits and exchanging of gifts. Kati Bihu involves the woman of the house to worship Tulsi ji (holy basil) every evening by lighting a diya (earthen lamp) for the entire month. Eid calls for lunch/dinner invitations from our Muslim family friends/neighbours, which means indulging in laughter, happiness and huge helpings of pulao, meat and sweet vermicelli.
Then slowly the winter sets in. Not a season that I look forward to, but then, winters in Assam are not so bad either. With the warm sunny afternoons to gorge on plenty of citrus fruits after lunch, or sharing cups of hot peppery soup with the family while watching our favourite soaps on TV in the evenings before dinner, I look forward for a happy winter this time at home, also hoping that my husband gets atleast a couple of days off this time to be with us just in time for his birthday in December.

A year ago TODAY

2010-09-20T08:00:00.000-07:00

A year ago today, hubby and I got hitched.

Everyone who knew us individually, had given up all hopes that either of us would take the plunge. Though it never bothered me to think that way, I seriously began to doubt that any man was ever made for me. Being fed on a healthy dosage of romantic songs, movies and novels, I was always over-critical, suspicious and cynical about any guy who would approach me and I would crib endlessly and dig out faults with those endlessly lost potential partners. And the only ones I liked were either way too younger or already taken. Not that I never had relationships before, but they ended in strange ways. Either the guys were total jerks or something or the other never worked to last long enough. None of them could keep me engrossed for long, anyway. My friends told me that my expectations of my 'dream-guy' were way too unrealistic... he should be intelligent, well-read, have a great sense of humour, earn decent, not too ugly-looking, dress smartly, wear good shoes, have a head-full of hair, listen to good music (not Enrique-type of songs)... and maybe there were 20 other items in the list which I went on adding over the years. And every guy I used to meet used to be measured against that mental list. But I was soon made to realise by my folks and friends that I was dismissing too many guys without even giving them a fair chance! They told me to ditch the unrealistic expectations, as no one man could fit the bill (especially since Brad Pitt was already taken and George Clooney had been a confirmed bachelor so far). I was left with no choice but to start meeting guys they set me up with and pick only one thing or two on my mental list that I absolutely could not compromise on (like, him being 'straight' or that he spoke correct English, for instance). But I was not ready to settle for anything less. I longed for a guy who would also be ready to tolerate my (infamous) temper and loud mouth to go with, pamper the child in me and dote on the woman in me. And then one fine day, out of the blue, came this guy...

We met, and in that moment I thought there wouldn't be anything special brewing this time too. So many times in life we meet people, talk to them, like them instantly and then just forget all about them and we move on with our lives. But this was nothing like it. He was everything I always wanted in my guy... a nice human being, charming, fun, tall, good-looking, well-spoken and him being in the armed forces was like the cherry on the cake. We eventually hit it off pretty well. We never rushed in. We never pushed each other. I slowly began to feel this growing warmth between us and our relation just developed as forests grow... without any conscious nurture. His maturity stirred me, whereas my impatience amused him. He wooed me with his charms and slowly I felt okay to be vulnerable, as our inhibitions lowered. Before we knew it, our relationship was made official with our engagement. And ever since, we never looked back... in regret.

We just clicked and kept on clicking... at our computer mouses and the keyboards, and also at our mobile-phones' keypad buttons. And with each passing day and month, our brainwaves harmonised on their own. What else could we depend on, except those so called 'wavelengths'. Our relation just grew on those written words that flashed on our computer screens in the form of 'love-mails' and those endless hours of talking on our phones through countless sleepless nights. The long distance between us made things a little improbable for us. You can't share every feeling through emails or on the phone. But love has an uncanny tendency of making things easy for the takers. So, we made up for the lost moments when he used to visit me once in a couple of months. I was totally transformed. I stopped being the flirt I'd always been and for once, all my friends and colleagues came to believe that this time I was seriously in a relationship.

In six months time, before I knew it, we were tied in holy matrimony. I had mixed feelings in the beginning, and was as confused as he might have been. I would sometimes get upset about having to leave my job and my single, carefree life with no responsibilities whatsoever, having to concentrate less on myself now and focus more on 'us' and the society we lived in, sharing the bed with him whereas earlier I would have the entire bed to myself, expecting him to remember birthdays, death anniversaries, wedding anniversaries of friends, family and even someone in the extended family and getting offended when he did not. The wet-towel-on-the-bed habit, walking with wet slippers all around the house, leaving footmarks on the bathroom floor and saving all the dirty undear and socks to be washed on Sundays... all these things were quite a shock and annoying in the early days of our marriage, but slowly, these irritants grew into familiarity which seemed to offer great comfort and security in both our lives. I am not even getting into my habits which might have got on his nerves. I'm happy not knowing of them.

Thus, through good times and bad, being both right and wrong, sharing love and quarrels, we have seen a whole year fly by, since the date we tied the knot. And after a year of marriage, I've come to being familiar seeing my husband wake up next to me when we are together or me staying happy and involved in something when he is away on 'field-duty', as easily as seeing my face in the mirror. And I have learnt that once in a while we do need to take certain things and people for granted to make our 'circle of comfort' complete. And though my beloved has some quirks which really irks me to the core, yet gives me a comfort and security, which further gives me confidence that our world will still go round! I'm hoping it only gets better from now.

The plague of the AUNTYji-s and their agonising questions

2010-09-14T14:38:00.000-07:00

India is perhaps the only place in the world where we are taught from our childhood to address complete strangers, neighbours, acquaintances or anyone who is not even remotely related to us, as UNCLEs and AUNTYs. It is considered 'rude' to address someone (elder) by their first or even last names. And I have been completely comfortable with this culture until a few years back when I had to undergo the 'U.K. voice and accent training' and the 'UK Culture training' for my job. Slowly I learnt of some cultural similarities in American and other European society too, with a striking difference with us Indians and our culture.
For instance, there is no good thing about being 'single' in India... especially if you're a girl and over 23 years of age. The general calculation is that you graduate by the age of 21. After that, you'd be lucky to have been been spared for 2 more years after you have graduated, just in case you want to pursue a professional course, but soon thereafter, all those agonising questions and 'looks' will crowd your way, especially from those snooping neighbourhood Aunty-jis.

AGONISING QUESTION # 1: SO, WHEN ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?
The good thing about being a single girl in India is that everyone wants to find you a groom---your parents, your relatives, your neighbours, the taxi-driver, the laundry-woman and sometimes, even your colleagues, and definitely those Aunty-jis. Everybody seems to know somebody, or their son, who would be perfect for you. You'd have been so grateful to have been saved from the manhunting routine of Ally McBeal or Bridget Jones... if only you'd also agree that that particular 'someone (or their son)' is perfect for you. I mean, where would you get the opportunity to even find that out? They would want you to get married immediately without questioning their judgement. No dating, no flirting, no slowly maturing the relationship. And they will (in most probability) steer you away from the sexy ones and settle on the most excruiatingly boring IT-type-settledin-the-U.S. of A.
No-no! Thank you so much, but I think I'll take my own sweet time to find out that man-of-my-dreams for myself.
I had come a long way in my single days from this question with my cheeky comeback:
"Auntyji, didn't my ma tell you that I'm a lesbian and till the time homosexual marriages are legalised in India, I would devote my years to serving the poor until I can legally unite with my one and only true love?"
Believe me, those Auntyjis will be too shocked to react at first, but then derive that you must be going through a lot of stress searching for a groom as there must be something wrong with your horoscope, and then might even spread the word about it around. But never will they dare bother you with the bugging question ever again.

AGONISING QUESTION # 2: HOW MUCH DO YOU EARN?
If you are one of those lucky spinsters who has a job you love and the one that even pays you handsomely, you sure have got yourself a lot of attention back home amongst your relatives and the neighbourhood Auntyjis. With the attention shifting more towards higher education and salaried women these days, and hoping that one fine day their Tina-s and Munni-s would earn as much as you do, or even more, it isn't uncommon to be asked (whether you're married or not) about how much you earn. While in other countries this is a very personal and objectionable question, our fellow countrymen (and women) don't really see the harm in sharing the news of their or others finances. Had I wanted to be a nice and harmless person, I'd have been modest and replied that I was just earning enough to support my lifestyle in those single days of mine in Delhi... enough to stay comfortably in a good locality, enough to buy books to open up a mini library, enough to take off to any place I fancy, on my own and afford those trips myself, enough to buy my own drinks whenever I wanted to party with the girls, without depending on any loser of a guy, enough to buy good clothes, shoes and accessories and watch countless movies every weekend. But ofcourse, since that's none of their godforsaken business, I used to say:
"Psst, it's a secret but I'm sharing this with you... I work for the FBI as a secret agent, my 'real' salary gets transfered into a Swiss bank account, which I haven't touched yet. So I really don't know what's my salary. Must be a lot, since I'm on first-name terms with my personal banker who also happens to be the Swiss Bank Manager. Gee!"
Again 'that' look on their faces, but I love my peace more, to even care.

AGONISING QUESTION # 3: OH, YOU'RE A HOUSEWIFE?
Taking off from the continuing trend of being an independent salaried woman, who lived life on her own terms, travelled extensively on her own and partied hard, being a 'home-maker' after marriage and wanting to settle down to a less hectic life, might bring with it its own connotations. Perhaps you are still smart enough to get yourself a high paying job, but perhaps your husband and you both agree that you have toiled enough for 11 long years before you got married, and maybe now you can do with a little relaxation because what the husband earns is more than comfortable for both of you to survive without you working. But in India, it's amazing how people will think of it as anything except that it is a personal choice.
So, when I'm confronted with this annoying and agonising question, there's no better way than proclaiming:
"No, I'm the Domestic Goddess. And this is my real place... in the house, at my husband's feet. Don't you agree?" Then bat your eye-lashing and flash your most charming smile.

(I mean, c'mon! It's not like I have a contaminable disease, for crissake!)
Here, chances are that you might be even appreciated for your newfound realisation of the essence of being a woman. But you'd definitely not be plagued with any more of that question.

AGONISING QUESTION # 4: IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT (IN YOUR MARRIAGE)?
All thanks to the age-old Bollywood film moralities and a certain Kapoor's Saas-Bahu saga on the different tv channels, a married woman in her maternal home, is seen as not fulfilling her marital duties. Nobody considers that fact that things are different when you are married to an army officer. There are times when you are posted out of a station and the husband goes out to a 'field-location' (where its not safe to keep his family) as his new posting. You have not got a quarter in your preferred location yet, and while waiting for the same, you prefer to be with your parents and siblings and childhood friends in your hometown, rather than being all by yourself in a strange city in a rented accomodation. But here again, if you have visited your parents and stayed on for a while, it is inevitable for those Auntyjis to ask this agonising line. A woman's place is by her man's side, after all. The zooming divorce rates in India these days, where it can now be confidently yet sadly called a trend, may also be the cause of your neighbour's suspicion.
On such situations, I can very wickedly excuse myself with a long sad face and also a few (did I see tears in her eyes) looks, letting my mother face the music, but I choose to retort:
"No Auntyji, I just wanted a break from all those soul-stirring, earth-shattering sex with my husband. See how much weight I've lost from all that regular exercise. Phew! Now I want him to spend some time with his mistress in the Assam-Arunachal border too. *wink!*"
Chances are that the Auntyjis from the neighbourhood will never visit your house again and even pretend to not see your mom when they cross ways. But atleast you'll have your last laugh with your mom (if you have a mom as sporty as mine)!

AGONISING QUESTION # 5: ANY GOOD NEWS?
If you're one of those 'fortunate ones' who's finally succeeded to nail a man and got hitched, the next question is, invariably, this one. How can you be nearing your 30s or even past it and not have babies yet? Our society, incidently, revolves as it is, around marital and maternal bliss... the only essence of being born a woman. Those do-gooding angels might even offer you the number of a fertility specialist, accompanied by a miracle story of a certain Mr. & Mrs. Sharma. These kind of questions are enough to put new bride off any social occassions. Worse still are the congratulations on a (is that a) baby bump, that's in reality the after-effect of skipping your regular gym or eating too many samosas. You can try and laugh it off, but if this question still persist, try my comeback:
"Yes lots! Which one would you like to hear first? I'm going off to Goa with my girlfriends this Christmas and might even do Bangkok for some shopping from thereon. Check out these fabulous snaps of hubby and me from our last vacation. The prints have just come in and you're luckily on time. And oh, I'm totally in love with my pedicurist for choosing this lovely new shade for me. Isn't it sexy?" See... "
Chances are that the question will fade away on its own when you seem so content and happy with your current life and situations, even without you doing or saying anything nasty to the Auntyjis. It may raise a few confused eyebrows but believe me, it should definitely prevent further noises.

The Officer=The Gentleman=My Husband

2010-08-31T08:36:00.001-07:00

Hubby has small annoying mannerisms that I have not been used to in a long while of my civil life. For instance, he will always hold the door for me in the house, in restaurants, in a car/taxi, etc. He will never let me hold any bag other than my purse even though his hands are already full. He will never start or close his plates without me whenever we are eating together, even at home... even if he's getting late for work.

On one of my bad-mood-days, I snapped at his mannerism and told him that he doesn't have to hold open the door for me because I'm a Lady. That I have all my limbs in perfect working condition, well capable of doing these things for myself.
To which he coolly replied,"Darling, I don't hold doors or bags for you because you are a Lady, but because I'm a Gentleman!"
I can do nothing much but just shuddup!

Sultan...the new king of my heart

2010-07-04T05:03:00.000-07:00

Sultan is the little prince of Captain N (our current next door neighbour in Devlali).
Cptn. N found Sultan in an almost fatal state and nursed and fed him back to health again. Now Sultan has recovered and is growing naughtier by the day.
The first day we had shifted into the quarter, Sultan barked at us constantly. Then I went to him and started talking to him from afar. He seemed to like me talking to him. He began initiating playful tricks when I went near. If he found anything which looked remotely similar to a playball or water-bottle or slipper, Sultan would hold it into his mouth and pretend to be possessive about it. If I did not pay attention, he would throw it at me and bark slowly, provoking me to get near it. If I tried getting near, he would steal it right under my nose and run away, challenging me to catch it. That was the beginning of a successful relationship I'd had with Sultan and slowly introduced him to my hubby. While hubby smoked his morning cigarette, Sultan would go near him and try to catch the smoke rings but when hubby said 'down' or 'no', Sultan would instantly follow and obey.
Our months of a glorious summer in Devlali were spent basking in the glow of literal puppy love while training and establishing new routines for Sultan as his real owner had no time to devote to the pup. In fact, most of my time was spent incorporating him into my life and me into his. Most of my days were spent in quiet, loving solitude with Sultan. While I sat reading in the easy chair in the balcony of our quarter, Sultan would lie relaxed at my side and sigh with contentment. We were a happy couple. My heart was nourished and I felt content and full. We spent almost a month this way, until Captain N and his unit got ready to move to a new location, Sultan in tow.

During this 1 month I spent with Sultan, this is what I learnt from him:

1. Look innocent and lost when you need some extra care and attention.

2. When it's in your best interest, always practice obedience.

3. When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.

4. Run, romp and play daily.

5. Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.

6. Take naps and always stretch before rising.

7. On hot days, drink lots of water and lie in shade.

8. Be loyal but be open to making new friends.

9. Never pretend to be something you're not.

10. Thrive on attention and let people touch you.

11. Delight in the simple joy of taking long walks.

12. Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.

13. Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.

14. When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.

15. Let others know when they've invaded your territory.

16. Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.

17. If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

18. When you are happy, dance around and let it show.

19. To be mischievious, yet to know when to give it up.

20. No matter how often you are criticizedor punished, not to buy into the guilt thing and pout but to run right back and make friends again.

The last laugh

2010-06-10T21:23:00.000-07:00

Hubby comes back visibly happy from his sutta break and meets me outside the lingerie store in the Inorbit Mall (I let him have a smoke while he lets me pick up fancy lingeries... a perfect understanding suiting both our needs). I become suspicious... why he is so happy? Oh no! Must have surely done something he is forbidden of.
"Honey, what's with the grin on your face?"
"Oh nothing! I just picked up a set of Adidas deos. They're quite nice, actually."
"Hmmm... But weren't you supposed to be on a sutta break? You managed time to pick up deos too, eh? Not bad!"
"Actually, I couldn't smoke. As I was going out, the salesman lured me on to try a sniff of his stock and he wasn't just ready to let me go without testing a whiff of each first."
"So, the salesman got you again? I bet he must have sold you the worst smelling deos that he couldn't sell to anybody else."
"Do you actually think Adidas can have any 'foul smelling' deos?"
"Who knows?!"
"Ok, check out this smell..." He holds out his pulse points on both the hands for me to sniff.
"Oh God! Stop!! I can't make out anything. Its just a mixture of your sweat, your signature AXE with several new ones. Smells gross to me."
Hubby looks visibly disappointed now, not being able to prove his point. So, I try to ease it out for him.
"Ok honey. I have full faith in your choice. You must've picked up something very nice, I'm sure."

Hubby is happy now. Promises to buy me deos of my choice too.
"But I can't apply deos on my skin, I'm allergic, you know that. You can buy me more perfumes, though."
"No, you have too many perfumes to last you for the next 10-15 years. I think you should pick up deos now. Try spraying them like I do... lots of it above your clothes so that it doesn't touch your skin."
"What? Are we talking about deos or handkerchief perfumes? Why would I spray deos on my clothes?"
"Just try it. You'd thank me for the tip."
"Okay, if you insist".
I am almost tempted at the prospect of it. I must admit I admire the way hubby sprays his deos on before leaving for anywhere (yes! on his clothes). The masculine smell of his signature AXE prevails for a longer duration and totally kills the effect of my delicate EMOTION (Rasasi) or YESSAMIN (Avon) or COOL WATER (Davidoff) or my favourite TENDER TOUCH (Burberry). I end up smelling just like him. The only perfumes of mine which win over his deos are the strong ones like Burberry DEEP RED or YSL CINEMA, but obviously I can't afford to spray them on for casual wearing. I save these ones for those special evenings. So, now is my chance to give it back to him. I would pick up a nice smelling deo and spritz it on like him and kill the smell of his new Adidas pack of 3. Yippee!
By the end of the day, I am so overwhelmed with all my shopping, eating at my favourite KFC and watching a movie, that I completely forget about the deo to be bought. Hubby doesn't remind me of it again, of course. He is already in a state of shock from the damage done to his wallet with my other 'wholesome' shopping.
Days pass by until after 2 weeks when I am reminded of my due deodorant to be bought. In the meantime, hubby has already finished off his first one from the pack-of-3. Adidas FRESH IMPACT. Hmmmnn not so bad! I like the smell of it. And now he's opened the second...Adidas SPORT FIELD.
"It smells horrible", I complain. "I knew it. The shopkeeper made a fool of you. This deo, nobody must have picked up."
I quickly smell the third one... DYNAMIC PULSE. Okay, this one's fine. Only the second one I hate.
"But I like it, what's wrong with it?" Hubby protests.
So, that day, in our usual evening round of walks, when we are in the Umrao Plaza (a small shopping complex comprising of shops run by army as well as civilians, with blarring music and temporary eating joints, sprigging up in the evenings for the gathering crowd), we walk through a small shop full of perfumes and deos. I don't miss the opportunity to remind hubby of my due. He cannot refuse it, of course. So we go in. After testing a series of deos from Revlon Charlie Blue, Charlie Gold, Jovan Musk, Nivea, Nike, etc. I derived that these perfumes are not originals. So I ask the shopkeeper for a more Indian brand... Temptation (I quite like the ad 'sorry boys!' and I've heard it smells good too.
"Sorry ma'm. Don't have it right now. Can get it for you in a day or two. In the meantime, why don't you try this one? Its quite popular among the other ladies who come to my shop."
Saying this the shopkeeper offers me to smell the apealing TOMY GIRL.
Hmm.. I like it. Hubby likes it too. Very fresh and nice. Smells almost like the original, but at Rs.120/- I really doubt it. We pick it up anyway.

Reaching our quarter, I am quite thrilled with my new purchase and am admiring it. Hubby takes it from me, sits on the bed, and forced by his usual habit, reads up the whole of the small print at the back body of the deo can.
"Ha, ha, ha! Darling, you've picked up TOMY GIRL, have you realised? This is an alternative product to TOMMY GIRL, it claims here. After all the rec'ce (a short form for Reconnaissance... very frequently used lingo in the army) you only managed to pick up a fake. How's that for a change? Now who is cheated by the shopkeeper? Ha!"
"But darling, don't you give it to me that my picked up 'fake' still smells better than your 'original'? Surely I must have got some taste. After all, I chose you!" *wink*

Sometimes when loving silently is just not enough

2010-05-13T04:05:00.000-07:00

Recently I read, Leonardo da Vinci spent 12 long years just painting Mona Lisa's lips. I admit, though I'm no Mona Lisa look-alike (and thank God for that!), how I wish hubby dear had spent at least 12 whole minutes looking at me romantically... those without-batting-your-eyelids, eye-to-eye lost-in-thoughts kinda gazes, you know...
I admit, I am a sucker for romance... hand-holding during a movie, barefoot walks on the beach by sunset, flowers, 'I love you's, 'I miss you's... I dig all that. And I love being the centre of attention for hubby dear. Aw, c'mon! Just tell me who doesn't enjoy some bit of attention in varying degree, anyway? Initially, those compliments and surprise elements would come from him without any suggestion or prompting from my side. But when I realized even the 'I miss yous' have stopped coming my way for the last 2 months that we are away from each other,
I gave him strong hints on the phone about my 'very happening' life here in my hometown (actually it wasn't so happening, after all), while he was doing a course someplace far off from here. I used to make up stories about how I was part of a very hip and happening party at the swankiest of the recently opened clubs in the town, how I met a certain friend from school days over FB who still happens to be single and was showering me with compliments, etc (you get the picture, right?). Why? You need to do these kind of things to make the love of your life feel jealous at times and make him realize that the person he is married to, can do with a little attention and compliments from him now and then, and that a little reminder of love never hurt anyone, anyway. Us girls like to be courted and wooed all the time like in romantic novels and movies. But the truth is that guys seldom read the books we do, or for that matter, like to watch romantic chick-flicks.
But as expected, hubby dear 'pretended' to be all cool about his wife being the 'new talk-of-the-town' and being almost snatched away from under his nose. One fine evening things went a little further. I did not answer his call and texted him instead that I'd speak to him the next morning as it was very noisy at the friend's place where I was at that time, in the midst of a party. It was 11 p.m. then. He could not go on pretending any more. He texted me back a very jealous and irate message (reminding me that I am married now and have some social responsibilities, whatsoever). The next morning when we spoke, that is when I made him realize how I feel when he gets too busy with his work and life to even take out some time for me and give me his undivided attention. Thankfully, I have noticed a change in him now and a positive one at that.

Note to all: It is not enough to love someone with your whole heart and soul and never express it. Our hearts need to be nurtured with the love and attention they crave for. Or else, they will carry on their searches for that love and attention with the quiet tenacity of the bare branches that waited through a long brittle winter, for the filigree of leaves in spring.

Springtime symphony and sweet childhood fantasy of romance

2010-04-14T10:38:00.000-07:00

Its homecoming in springtime after a good 11 years. And boy! Did I miss this time of the year all these years away from home? You bet I did. Though strangely, I always took it for granted when I had been at home years ago.

My earliest memories of springtime in Assam dates back to our childhood days to a season which was just perfect-the days and nights were rendered equal and it would be neither too cold nor too warm ... the weather would be fresh and clear, warm and sunny yet had the first few showers of the year for the dry leafless trees to bud out new green foliage slowly making them blossom into a variety of colorful blooms in red, pink and yellow... the cunning cuckoo birds cooing their way to the crows' nests to lay their eggs... the brain-fever birds would whistle bou koka kote (mom where's dad?) constantly, till one starts whistling with them without even knowing it... while the exotic orchids and other sweet smelling flowers of spring would bloom their best, the fragrant breeze transforming the environment into an earthly paradise...

I remember the times when we would visit both my parents native places in upper Assam during springtime. Around mid-April, with the first day of Bohag starting the Assamese new year, the Bohag Bihu or Rongali Bihu would usher in a period of great fun, merriment and colours, marking the arrival of the spring season. Young girls would colour their palms and feet with saffron pigments of freshly ground jetuka (henna leaves)... women folk would prepare assamese delicacies and snacks like pitha (dry rice cakes stuffed with sweetened coconut or sesame seeds) and laaroos (sweetened sesame or coconut balls) in every household, some women in the villages even weaving homemade bihuwans (white cotton veils with red floral patterns) to be presented to their near and dear ones as a gift expressing love and respect. During those bihu days, everyone would adorn new traditional attires like dhoti, saador-mekhela, present bihuwans to elders and loved ones, invite each other for feasts, functions and fairs organized at several places, setting a mood of festivity and gaiety all throughout Assam. The whole atmosphere would inspire unbounded joy and enthusiasm expressed through dances, songs, and other festivities. Hundreds of young unmarried men and women in the village would be seen moving about in groups, gaily dressed to perform Bihu dance. Pretty young girls would dance brisk and sensuously moving their hips, arms and the upper parts of their bodies to the rhythm of the wild beats of dhol (hollow musical drums) and to the lusty tunes of pépa (buffalo hornpipes) and gogona (another musical instrument made of bamboo), all of these played by the handsome young men. Young couples in love would sing and dance to songs woven around themes of romance expressing love for their sweethearts, whole day long, sometimes late into the night in open fields, roadsides, on specially constructed stages or performing from house to house. The young lissome girls would dress in their best traditional muga mekhela saador (a two-piece skirt-and-shawl set, woven out of golden silk fibers with red floral patterns) and red blouses, kopou phul (a beautiful white and purple colored long orchid) adorning their jet-black hair tied in neat buns and jetuka-tinted palms. The men would wear white cotton dhotis and muga (golden silk) kurtas and tie bihuwans around their heads and waists.

Every year my sister and I would gleefully listen to the romantic escapades of at least 1 young couple in the vicinity of our grandparents' neighbourhood, who would elope and get married during this time of the year... as if it was almost like a tradition that had to be followed with each passing year. And being the hard-core romantic I am, I would think to myself that one day when I grow up, I would fall in love and get married only at this time of the year, my lover carrying me in his arms into a sunset of a happily ever after future together.

Alas! Our childhood dreams and wishes doesn't always come true. My husband is neither from Assam, nor did we get married in Spring. And knowing him, I can tell, he might find all of this stupid, ridiculous and far from anything that is his idea of romance. But the fact remains that in the evenings when I go up to our terrace after sunset to feel the cool spring breeze caress my face, to let the cacophony of the songs of the various migratory birds deafen my ears to all the other sounds of civilization and to fill my nostrils and lungs with the unpolluted air mixed with the fragrance of the many spring flowers, my childhood fantasy flashes back in my mind. And it brings a smile on my lips, a sparkle in my eyes and a spring in my steps. Skipping a beat in a heart, I think of my husband who is far far away, buried in his books nose-deep at the moment...

A lost part of me

2010-04-10T22:27:00.000-07:00

Date: 13th March' 10.
Time: Early morning.
I stared at the stick in disbelief. Two straight, pink lines. No doubt about it…PREGNANT. Oh my God! A month ago, when we had our doubts and visited a doc, she confirmed in negative. Now all of a sudden positive. I did not know whether to be happy or sad. My pregnancy was not 'unwanted' but we were not just ready to accept that the doctors can goof up on something so simple as this. I had wanted a baby badly and for so much time now. The baby bug had bitten me long long time before I was even married. But the doctors had created a lot of confusion for us over these 2 months. And this wasn't a good time for me to get pregnant as it was a time to pack all our stuff and move on to the next location. Husband was going to be away from me for a couple of months... even more. So, I wouldn't get his moral and physical support which I heard is very essential for first-timers like us. But I thought since we were going to be away from each other for a while now, the least I could do was to have our first baby from the man I loved so. And it just happened, though I didn't think God would answer my prayers and it would happen so fast. Now a mix of excitement and sheer terror washed over me. Of course I was sure I wanted to have this baby. Good Lord, what was I thinking? Husband, on the other hand, had a practical yet indifferent approach. He made it clear that since we wouldn't be together for sometime now, I would have to take care of things by myself. He had to be deeply engrossed in his studies for a very important exam that would matter a lot in his career growth. And here I was, so foolish in love carrying his child in my womb, thinking of nothing else but the tiny soul growing inside me every day. My skin and complexion glowed. Nausea was my constant companion. I had developed an undying urge to gorge on gol-gappas and South-Indian food. I could never go anywhere near food and not have the tendency to throw up. My bladder had shrunk to the size of a kidney bean, which required me to pee exactly every thirteen minutes. My body was on this wild, hormonal ride, and I had terrible mood-swings. But I was adamant. It hit me even more when we saw the first sonogram of our baby on the monitor. That's when I really and truly realized this was my baby… 'our' Baby. The past nausea-weeks, the frequent urination, and all the other inconveniences, well, they just melted away. Nothing seemed to matter anymore as I looked at this amazingly tiny person inside my womb. At just 6 weeks old, my little miracle was already formed so perfectly, yet so small… just about four centimeters... with a tiny helpless heart beating... almost like a flickering flame. But I have to say, the most amazing transformation of all... how neurotic I had become about this little person inside me. I was so happy I cried out of joy. And I was amazed to see the sparkle in my husband's eyes. How proud he looked. And happy. This was the first time I saw sheer joy in him about 'our baby' and the fact that he finally got ready to become a father. He was all caring and loving and kissed my little Buddha-belly about ten times a day. We didn't know if it'd be a girl or a boy, but my husband started calling the baby 'junior' already. When he asked me what name are we gonna decide and how, I had 2 names ready for a baby girl and a baby boy, whoever arrived. But I felt we'd have a little girl... plump and fair, who would look exactly like her dad. I'd picture her dressed in frilly frocks, curly hair with ribbon-laced pony-tails, taking her first steps, walking to school, growing into her teens, getting her driver's license, going to college, getting married, having babies of her own... her whole life would flash right before my eyes. I would have thoughts about what a big, ugly world is waiting out there for 'her'.... the one filled with bad people, heartbreaks, cancer, violence, drugs, alcohol, teenage-pregnancy, depression and suicide... and then I would go to my husband and hug him tight, thanking God that I don't just have a man who I love, but a real man to father our love child, supported by an institution of marriage, a man who is strong enough to stand by me and my baby and protect us both from the ugliness of this bad world. And I would instantly feel safe and secure. Whenever I stepped into a departmental store to shop for some summer wear, I would be automatically drawn towards the maternity section without even realizing it. I would pick up pregnancy books from bookstores when I had actually stopped to buy the latest best-sellers.
And then my nightmare began...
In the midst of all the chaos of shifting locations and our stuff from the north to the northeast, the excitement of experiencing this essence of being a woman in the truest sense, my whole world of dreams just shattered before my eyes, without me being able to do anything at all about it. I lost our first ray of hope and the soul beating inside me. I was torn apart and I had to give it all up---my dreams, my hopes, my smiles... I never felt this weak before. I cried my heart out, but I knew nobody could wipe out my tears within... nobody could take away my pain... nobody could make me guilt-free... nobody could fill the void that shadowed that phase of my life without my husband near me... nobody could give me answers to anything at all... But in that instant I realized there were many more sadder things that could have happened. I realized that whatever happens, might happen with a good reason. I realized that I cannot give up on life and hope and that we have to carry on with life as it comes to us. But most of all, I realized what it is like to be ready in all senses to really become a mother to a little person who would be born out of me some day.
The best part of this most painful experience in my life is that husband and I have discovered each other again and it feels like we have fallen in love with each other again... just like for the first time ever...

One of his kind

2010-04-09T08:15:00.000-07:00

It's a special occasion...the air's scented with the sweet smell of love; I am in my best of moods and the object of my affection stands tantalizingly silhouetted against the full moon. There couldn't have been a better ambiance to induce tender loving words. In keeping with the magic of the moment, I lean across and whisper some sweet nothings into his ear. He begs to be pardoned and says, "Why are you whispering?" At moments like this, I am convinced that my husband either suffers from selective blindness (and hearing), or he could be a masochist or could it be that he really doesn't even realize when he blows it all? I feel a bit of a fraud to be picking on him, when I always thought I am crazy about him being in my life, yet deep down inside, I know, he is kinda sweet and charming in his own innocent way. He is helpful and helpless, smart and dumb, not necessarily according to the situation. But still, I can't pretend that he is perfect. He has a few intolerable virtues. For clarification, I have listed a few...

He believes in sharing. The marriage vows seem to have made a profound impact on him as he is suddenly faced with the harsh realities of another being occupying his space, house, bed and everything else. But the context of sharing and its meaning can be very conveniently changed depending entirely on the intricacies of job in hand. He will never meddle in what he considers my domain. He will keep waiting at the dining table for lunch/dinner (as I juggle with the almost-done crispy fried prawns from the stove to the table, bringing together the cutlery and the remaining dishes of the meal and my mobile rings right at that moment) and he might just announce in a humble yet piteous tone, "Honey, where's my glass of water?" My point is not that he has lived in the house much before we have been married without even discovering where the kitchen sink is, but that he thinks I have the stamina and ability to handle all of those mundane things at that same instant because that's my domain.

He has a very good memory. He is brilliant at remembering facts and figures: When was Hailey's Comet last sighted? Where was India's first computer installed? Which is Indian Army's oldest battalion? Which is the 33rd Article of the Constitution? It is obviously unreasonable to expect one so weighed down with relevant data to remember simple facts like our 6 month anniversary, or did we buy a wine-opener for our house the last time we went shopping for household stuff or we have to pay the cable-guy. These things I will have to go through remembering for life.

He tries to improve my memory. Operating on the suspicion that I actually have a good memory but pretend to have a poor one situationally, he'd ask me about things that I have never even seen or heard of before. Things/documents that he'd keep himself, but insist that I kept them safely somewhere, when they are misplaced.

He allows me to make very important decisions...because he has so much respect for my superior wisdom, nice taste and great decision-making skills, he is constantly asking me questions like "Do we need to refill our wine stock?" or "what's for dinner tonight?" or "what car should we buy?"

Advocate of togetherness. He has finally agreed to accept a few things like "our quarter" or "our lawn". But under certain circumstances, the items that were "our" joint concern, suddenly becomes "Your plants aren't looking too healthy" or on another occasion "Your curtains need a wash" or even "My cupboard and my dressing table has no space for my stuff anymore".

He will give me an honest opinion when I don't need it at all. On one occasion when I had just put on a newly purchased 'Patiala Salwar' (those harem-pants variety), he said, "Darling, what's with the joker pants? Please change into something decent." And I never got to wear my sexy 'gladiator flats' to any of the army parties because my husband thought they don't look feminine.

He tries his best to make the marriage work. At least by not even being remotely bothered or concerned about petty things that bother me so much. He is lost in his own world of work, television and sleep.

These things often remind me that I'm not perfect either and there might be so many things about me which he hates, but never complains. I ask myself...Do married people fight? Of course they do. Does this mean they are not in love? Of course it doesn't. The more you love somebody, the madder you can get with him, especially when he has mastered the diabolical art of how to emotionally harass the spouse by not retaliating, not fighting back, not even getting upset with any amount of nagging and yet stay 'happily' married with a cool and content temperament all throughout. And then when I completely lose it and burst into tears, irritable and helpless at his indifferent attitude, with a faraway philosophical gaze he announces, "Silly girl! Come here, come to me.." and hugs me tight wrapping me around with his arms on his chest, and says, "Baby, you have no idea how much I love you. I'm all yours. Now tell me what's bothering you?" That takes away all the complaints from my life. And I think to myself, "He is the one I want to be forever with". Sigh!

It couldn't get any better

2010-01-01T23:06:00.000-08:00

31st Dec 2009. We were all set to celebrate our first New Year Eve together as a couple. But as my husband was getting ready preparing to attend the NYE do at our popular army celebration joint, like every other year, I suddenly couldn't bear the idea of being stuck in another boring and formal army party, strictly following a dress-code, mannerism and all things that wouldn't just let me have my hair down. So I coaxed him to take me elsewhere to someplace where no one would recognize us and especially where there wouldn't be any army people around. The very thought of welcoming the New Year amongst strangers thrilled me. I think I was getting sick of being with the same people for too long. Husband knew better than to say otherwise. So, for general peace, he decided to take me for a special dinner at the KC revolving restaurant in Jammu. We went there expecting a fully-booked, no-parking scenario, but man! were we in for a big big surprise?!

Our luck couldn't have got better. To our surprise, a New Year Eve bash was being organized at the restaurant for Rs. 3,000/- a couple as a cover charge for unlimited snacks, dinner, drinks & a belly-dance included amongst the other attractions of the evening. Staying in Delhi for 11 years, I have never heard of such a deal before. It was such a steal for the price we paid. We looked at each other and I controlled by sudden urge to scream for joy. My husband pressed my hand tight as if he knew by instinct what I was capable of doing. That was a reality check on me and I held myself back from doing anything embarrassing.

We went in to enjoy the evening, me still expecting there might be a catch somewhere and it just can't be true. But it was. My husband had scotch and I sipped on red-wine, gorging on delicious non-veg snacks while watching a (not-so-state-of-the-arty) belly dance and some other lively performances. We also had a close couple dance after the stroke of the midnight clock as we wished each other a very happy new year. Later we enjoyed a scrumptious dinner comprising of seafood and Italian exotics. The tiramisu fully satisfied my taste buds and I was in a state of a Strasbourg goose before Christmas.

We both came back home fully-fed, happy and refreshed. The NYE couldn't have got any better. Happy New 2010 to all!

Movies I watched in 2009

2010-01-01T09:21:00.000-08:00

S.N. Date Time (hrs) Cinema Movie
1 01st Jan'09 22:40 PVR-Select Citywalk GHAJINI
2 11th Jan'09 10:10 PVR-Anupam MADAGASKAR 2
3 11th Jan'09 12:00 PVR-Anupam THE ACCIDENTAL HUSBAND
4 17th Jan'09 10:40 PVR-Anupam CHANGELLING
5 17th Jan'09 13:20 PVR-Anupam AUSTRALIA
6 25th Jan'09 15:15 Cinemax-Hyderabad SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
7 25th Jan'09 18:30 Cinemax-Hyderabad RAAZ 2
8 31st Jan'09 10:00 PVR-Priya LUCK BY CHANCE
9 07th Feb'09 11:00 PVR-Priya DEV D
1007thFeb'09 14:00 PVR-Priya MERE KHWABON MEIN JO AAYE
11 08th Feb'09 14:00 PVR-Anupam MARLEY & ME
12 01st Mar'09 11:10 PVR-Priya DELHI 6
13 01st Mar'09 14:00 PVR-Priya THE PINK PANTHER 2
1401st Mar'09 16:00 PVR-Priya THE CURIOUS CASE OF BENJAMIN B
1507th Mar'09 11:00 PVR-Priya 13 B
16 14th Mar'09 10:05 SPICE-Noida GULAAL
17 15th Mar'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida LITTLE ZIZOU
18 20th Mar'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida STRAIGHT
19 22nd Mar'09 12:15 SPICE-Noida THE READER
20 22nd Mar'09 13:55 SPICE-Noida CONFESSIONS OF A SHOPAHOLIC
21 22nd Mar'09 16:25 SPICE-Noida FIRAAQ
22 04th Apr'09 18:30 SAPNA-Eok 8 X 10 TASVEER
23 05th Apr'09 21:30 PVR-AnupamTHE SISTERHOOD OF TRAVELLING
24 08th Apr'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida ALOO CHAT
25 09th Apr'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida AA DEKHEN ZARA
26 13th Apr'09 10:55 PVR-Anupam ONE MAN ARMY (ONGBAK 2)
27 13th Apr'09 12:50 PVR-Anupam THE INTERNATIONAL
28 18th Apr'09 11:55 SPICE-Noida DASHAVATARA
29 26th Apr'09 11:00 PVR-Priya MONSTERS VS ALIENS
30 26th Apr'09 13:15 PVR-Priya WATCHMEN
31 06th May'09 16:30 FUN CINEMAS-Ghy REVOLUTIONARY ROAD
32 16th May'09 12:20 PVR-Anupam MY MOM'S NEW BOYFRIEND
33 17th May'09 13:50 PVR-Priya 99
34 25th May'09 12:05 PVR-Anupam DETECTIVE NAANI
35 25th May'09 16:30 PVR-Anupam ELEGY
36 07th Jun'09 11:00 PVR-Priya STAR TREK
37 09th Jun'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida ANGELS AND DEMONS
38 13th Jun'09 16:45 PVR-Anupam GRAN TORINO
39 17th Jun'09 10:00 SPICE-Noida KARMA
40 21st Jun'09 10:10 SPICE-Noida 17 AGAIN
41 21st Jun'09 12:20 SPICE-Noida BRIDE WARS
42 28th Jun'09 21:00 K C Cineplex-Jammu NEW YORK
43 06th Jul'09 09:55 SPICE-Noida KAMBAKKHT ISHQ
44 08th Jul'09 09:45 SPICE-Noida ICE 3
45 14th Jul'09 10:20 SPICE-Noida MORNING WALK
46 19th Jul'09 12:15 SPICE-Noida THE HANGOVER
47 20th Jul'09 09:50 SPICE-Noida TRANSPORTER
48 20th Jul'09 12:00 SPICE-Noida PROPOSAL
49 21st Jul'09 09:45 SPICE-Noida SANKAT CITY
50 21st Jul'09 12:30 SPICE-Noida SHORT KUT
51 15th Aug'09 17:00 ANURADHA-Ghy KAMINEY
52 16th Aug'09 20:00 APSARA-Ghy LIFE PARTNER
53 13th Sep'09 15:40 GOLD-Ghy QUICK GUN MURUGAN
54 30th Sep'09 18:00 ANU EGA-Chennai WHATS YOUR RAASHEE?
55 18th Oct'09 18:00 K C Plaza-Jammu ALL THE BEST
56 06th Nov'09 15:40 K C Plaza-Jammu AJAB PREM KI GHAJAB K
57 19th Nov'09 16:30 MSP MULTIPLEX-Pathankot TUM MILE
58 12th Dec'09 12:30 K C Cineplex-Jammu ROCKET SINGH
59 30th Dec'09 18:30 K C Cineplex-Jammu 3 IDIOTS

An army wife never cries while waving off her husband goodbye

2009-12-17T13:03:00.000-08:00

Distance doesn't always make the heart grow fonder. My husband is in the Indian Army. I had a vague idea of what I was getting into when I got married to him, but had romantic notions of running into his arms at the airport or railway station, each time he would come home from his field location. But the first time he went out to the field for 2 weeks, left me craving for him to get back home as soon as possible. I used to enjoy staying on my own earlier during my single days, but now I don't like being alone. It is too quiet, disconcerting. Ever since my husband left, I felt uncomfortable being on my own.
He came back and in less than a week, he had to go again today... this time for a little over a month and to a place where there is no mobile network coverage. The last 5 days seemed as if we were living on borrowed time. Each minute was precious... especially, in the last 24 hours. We were trying to spend maximum time together, getting pending tasks completed in the midst of his work and my ladies' meet and family welfare programmes. We managed to watch a movie together, dined out, went out shopping and even opened up a joint account. Last night we hardly slept for a couple of hours. I helped him pack his bags, reminding him of the small knick-knacks that I knew he would miss out on if I didn't, that he would be needing to stay out for a month.
Early morning today the vehicle reached and as the 'batman' (or 'buddy' as my husband calls him) rang the doorbell and started loading husband's bags into the vehicle while I made breakfast and he got dressed, my heart started growing heavy. After breakfast as husband gave me a big hug and a goodbye kiss, proceeding towards the vehicle, the jawans stood there saluting and opening the vehicle door for him, cheering loudly JAI HIND, SAAB (may the victory be India's, sir), I felt very proud to be married to a man of such honour. But as I waved him goodbye and saw the vehicle soon getting away out of sight, my heart was filled with a sudden loneliness... as if it was going to swallow me up.
The house suddenly seemed so huge and empty again. Every nook and corner of the house seemed to remind me of him somehow or the other. The civilian t-shirt and track-pants that he wore last and had left for washing... his safety boots on the shoe-rack... our joint-photo framed on the bedside table...
I took out our wedding album and slowly looked at all our wedding snaps all over again. I burried my face into his still warm t-shirt and just couldn't fight back my tears. Quickly I brushed off the tears from my eyes that was streaming down both my cheeks, remembering that an army wife must never cry when her husband leaves.
Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder, after all...

Of culinary blunders and evolvement

2009-12-08T10:26:00.000-08:00

A major chunk of my single life saw me feeding on my home-made instant noodles, pasta in white sauce, pizzas, ham sandwiches or an occassional whole meal when I felt that craving for rice (which all rice-eaters from north-east do, once in a while). I knew how to cook whole meals, but the effort to cook for a single person was just not worth it. So, I had never had the need to practically cook proper meals all the time...except for those occassional times when we friends would get together for those special lunches and dinners.
Whenever I used to visit home, ma used to pamper me with all my favourite things to eat. I never had to cook while at home 'cause dad is an even better cook than ma. Back in Delhi, my workplace used to provide both lunch and dinner, so eventually over all these years, I always took cooking for granted, though I love eating.
When I quit my job 2 months before my marriage, the prime aim was to go home and learn some cooking from my mother. My husband-to-be was quite picky about food, I discovered, and he had a great taste in the things that he chose to eat. The brilliant cooks at the army officers' mess had literally spoilt them with an overdose of 5-star rated food. But then, things never work out exactly like we plan... well, not always. The time just before one gets married is usually a time when everyone is busy pampering the bride-to-be. So, not to mention my ma not letting me enter the kitchen (lest I should burn my hands or cut my fingers just before the d-day), also practically each day there was an invitation from our neighbours, friends or relatives, right upto a week before the wedding day. So, my plan to learn cooking from my mother went kaput. After our wedding, the in-law's kitchen was actually not a good place to experiment my culinary skills. My husband hails from the south and their taste of food is quite different from ours. So, just like a good daughter-in-law should, I decided to stand there, assisting my ma-in-law with chopping of vegetables or making tea or helping her open a certain jar for condiments...in short just watched and learnt some new dishes which were easy to make and suited both mine and hubby's taste-buds.

After we reached Jammu (where my husband and I are based right now), both of us started eating at the officers' mess until our kitchen was set. As a part of the welcoming ceremony, I was asked to make the first meal for 10 odd officers and their families...'assamese dishes'. I made my husband very proud by cooking a delicious 3-course assamese meal for all. Everybody was quite impressed. I was quite happy myself at how things had turned out to be. But suddenly everthing changed when I first started cooking at our own kitchen... the meal I cooked turned out to be horrible. The rice was overcooked, the dal was still hard and settled at the bottom while water gathering on the top with very less salt and too much of turmeric, the vegetable dish had lots of salt and got slightly burnt...the only saviour was the naga-style zero-oil chicken (learnt from my naga friend). I just didn't know what had gone wrong... if it was the result of trying so hard to cook a very good meal for my husband or the fact that everything was so new and unfamiliar in the new kitchen. But the fact remained that when I lay that horrible food on the dining table that fateful noon for lunch, tears rolled down my cheeks. I felt so sorry that the first meal I had cooked for my husband at home had to turn out this way. Nonetheless, hubby ate the food without a word...just enough to satisfy his hunger. I knew the food was bad... even I couldn't eat it. But he just wouldn't utter a word of complaint. The next meal was no better either. Hubby still didn't complain....just ate lesser and lesser. He would just make an excuse that he wasn't so fond of that vegetable or that particular dal just didn't suit his stomach. After two days and four meals, I started getting a hang of things. I began concentrating more on what I was cooking and how I was cooking them. The permutations, combinations, a few last-minute tips from ma & ma-in-law and my natural feminine instincts too, made the taste of things improve. I started introducing assamese dishes to my husband's palate and noticed him going in for second helpings. He started enjoying the meals at home and looked forward to eating at home more than eating outside. An occassional "Can you make that sour fish curry today?" or "assamese brinjal mash"(bengena pura) or "that zero-oil chicken" were so relieving to hear. I knew I was on the right track. There was no looking back after then. I started reading and following recipes from magazines (thank you FEMINA and GOOD HOUSEKEEPING) and from the internet.

Today after 2 months of tried and tested experiments, I can proudly claim that I can cook nice whole meals and entertain atleast 20 people at a time with ease, besides rustling up hubby's favourites in a jiffy. And then ofcourse, I can always pick up the phone and ask my ma & ma-in-law for those special tips which comes with their years of experience. Those two numbers are now on my speed-dial list.

November Musings

2009-11-06T07:29:00.000-08:00

Being from an absolute civil background and having no one from my family in the army, I , like a majority of our population, had no idea of what life in the armed forces was like. But as destined, I got married to an Army officer ( a Major in the Indian Army) on the 20th of September' 2009. After visiting my in-laws in Chennai and post our honeymoon in the Andaman & Nicobar Islands, we traveled all the way and reached Jammu on the 11th of October, where my husband was posted. Everything was so different in the army life. Right from our welcoming, to my ragging, dine-in, everything was a larger than life experience. I was in utter awe and absorbing everything like a dry sponge soaking in water.

Life in the beginning was indeed a dream come true as for any newly wed. As the bride of the unit, life was a lot of fun with all that pampering, care and attention showered on me by all officers and ladies. It was here I realized that even if Army sends you away from home and family, it provides you with another big family- your regiment, where you feel at home and acquire a tremendous sense of belonging. It is indeed amazing how so many people from different origins and culture can unite to form a closely knit unit. One develops some long-lasting relationships which at times might even outweigh blood relationships and age-old friends.

I come from a family of parents with moderate outlook...neither too conservative, nor too modern. But staying away from home and working for so long in a corporate environment (where everyone is expected to be addressed by his/her first names) made it very awkward for me in the first and most of the thereafter parties and get-togethers. Every time an officer or a lady came and spoke to me, I would be very nervous as everyone had to be addressed with their (correct) ranks and last names. The senior ladies could not be addressed by their first names or not even as "ma'm"s. One had to be politically correct all the time and had to mind his/her language as well as body-language. How you sit, walk, wine & dine, greet, everything is scrutinized at all times...not only by the senior ladies in your unit, but even by the ladies of other units too. And for a person who comes from a background like mine, infamous for speaking my mind out to anyone at all without any fear of being judged, it was a total culture shock. I have had my share of embarrassing moments and wished those incidents never happened. But the constant scrutinizing, grueling and training from the senior ladies of the unit and the husband's never-ending patience in answering my ever-inquisitive questions and a constant correction of any visible error, trained me (if not to a super-fine, then definitely) into a less-gawky lady.

One of the first gift my husband gave to me was the book WEDDED TO THE OLIVE GREEN. Its a Bible for people like us...the present generation service wives, who are not mere housewives...someone who is not merely a one-dimensional decorative person whose life revolves only around dressing up, makeup, kitty parties, gossip and small-talks. Notwithstanding the above, it is also true that we are not very attuned to the prevailing social customs and traditions, particularly our obligations to the Defense Service. Such ignorance leads to avoidable tension, which often extends to the husbands, so, one of the most important duty of the unit is to share with the ladies how they should conduct themselves graciously and with harmony, not only amongst themselves but also while interacting with the wives of Junior and Non Commissioned Officers and other ranks.

But, in spite of the rosy lazy life, Army life is also full of challenges, transfers, field tenures, separation from loved ones, which can be exasperating. I have heard about the much dreaded inconvenience of moving houses as an integral part of the service life. And of the long absences of the husbands for exercises which require them to be away from home for quite some time. But whenever I would get unnerved thinking of the forthcoming situations, before they actually came, my husband would always say, "Don't fight the system, make the best of it". This actually would then give me strength to carry on with a smile. My husband is one of the sentries of our country's borders and I ought to be his mainstay. So I need to be the pillar of support in the way of life he has chosen. I consider it a privilege to be married to him and I am proud to be a part of such a wonderful organization.

Hey, I'm back...

2009-10-19T20:19:00.000-07:00

Here I appear again. Seems like ages...it has been quite a while, actually. Now blogging would be more regular. I finally have access to internet. Catch u soon...

Movies I watched in 2008

2008-03-25T02:24:00.000-07:00

S.N. Date Time (hrs) Cinema Movie
1 05th Jan'08 11:50 Satyam-NP FUR
2 06th Jan'08 13:00 PVR-Anupam THE GOLDEN COMPASS
3 12th Jan'08 10:00 PVR-Priya NATIONAL TREASURE-2
4 19th Jan'08 11:30 PVR-Anupam MAD MONEY
5 21st Jan'08 09:20 PVR-Anupam ANURANAN
6 10th Feb'08 10:30 PVR-Priya MITHYA
7 16th Feb'08 10:30 PVR-Priya JODHA AKBAR
8 17th Feb'08 10:20 PVR-Anupam P.S. I LOVE YOU
9 17th Feb'08 12:45 PVR-Anupam ENCHANTED
1018thFeb'08 19:00 PVR-Anupam RESERVATION ROAD
11 23rd Feb'08 11:45 Satyam-NP NANNY DIARIES
12 23rd Feb'08 13:45 Satyam-NP MICHAEL CLAYTON
13 24th Feb'08 18:00 Satyam-NP AMERICAN GANGSTER
1403rd Mar'08 21:00 PVR-AnupamSWEENY TODD
1504TH Mar'08 23:15 PVR-AnupamVANTAGE POINT
16 08th Mar'08 12:45 PVR-Priya BLACK & WHITE
17 09th Mar'08 12:00 PVR-AnupamJUMPER
18 09th Mar'08 14:10 PVR-AnupamWEDDING DAZE
19 15th Mar'08 14:45 PVR-Anupam AUGUST RUSH
20 16th Mar'08 18:00 PVR-Priya 27 DRESSES
21 16th Mar'08 20:15 PVR-Priya WE OWN THE NIGHT
22 21st Mar'08 10:30 PVR-Priya RACE
2323rd Mar'08 10:00 PVR-AnupamTHE BUCKET LIST
24 30th Mar'08 11:10 Satyam-NP LOVE SONGS
25 14th Apr'07 15:45 PVR-Priya PERFECT STRANGER
26 20th Apr'07 22:45 PVR-Spice THE REAPING
27 21st Apr'07 11:00 Chanakya KYA LOVE STORY HAI
28 27th Apr'07 22:45 PVR-Spice TARA RUM PUM
29 12th May'07 10:20 Chanakya LIFE IN A METRO
30 19th May'07 14:00 PVR-Priya SPIDERMAN 3
31 20th May'07 10:00 PVR-Saket MADAGASKAR
32 30th May'07 13:35 Chanakya CHEENI KUM
33 30th May'07 16:30 Chanakya SHOOTOUT AT LOKHAND
34 12th Jun'08 10:30 PVR-Priya HANCOCK
35 12th Jun'08 12:30 PVR-Priya JAANE TU YA JAANE NA
36 15th Jul'08 14:25 PVR-Select City THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL
37 19th Jul'08 12:30 3Cs-Lajpat Nagar KISMAT KONNECTION
38 26th Jul'08 11:20 PVR-Priya DARK KNIGHT
39 26th Jul'08 14:10 PVR-Priya MISSION ISTANBUL
40 30th Aug'08 17:30 PVR -Select City ROCK ON
41 31st Aug'08 12:00 PVR-Priya WANTED
42 31st Aug'08 14:10 PVR-Priya C KKOMPANY
43 31st Aug'08 16:55 PVR-Priya BACHNA E HASEENO
44 06th Sep'08 13:05 PVR-Priya A WEDNESDAY
45 06th Sep'08 15:20 PVR-Priya WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS
46 14th Sep'08 10:20 PVR-Saket RIGHTEOUS KILL
47 14th Sep'08 12:20 PVR-Saket 1920
48 14th Sep'08 15:15 PVR-Saket THE LAST LEAR
49 05th Oct'08 19:45 PVR-Priya KIDNAP
50 11th Oct'08 18:30 Sapna HELLO
51 25th Oct'08 10:30 PVR-Priya ROADSIDE ROMEO
52 01st Nov'08 13:50 PVR-Priya FASHION
53 08th Nov '08 12:15 PVR-Saket QUANTUM OF SOLACE
54 08th Nov'08 15:50 PVR-Saket BODY OF LIES
55 15th Nov'08 11:30 SPICE-Noida DOSTANA
56 06th Dec'08 10:45 PVR-Priya DIL KABADDI
57 06th Dec'08 13:15 PVR-Priya BURN AFTER READING
58 06th Dec'08 21:30 SAPNA-Eok MAHARATHI
59 07th Dec'08 14:25 PVR-Anupam OYE LUCKY! LUCKY OYE!
60 10th Dec'08 16:40 SPICE-Noida DASVIDANIYA
61 10th Dec'08 20:25 SPICE-Noida SORRY BHAI
62 12th Dec'08 16:15 SPICE-Noida DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL
63 13th Dec'08 21:30 SAPNA-Eok RAB NE BANA DI JODI
64 28th Dec'08 18:50 PVR-Priya GHAJINI

THE GOA DIARIES

2008-02-26T01:44:00.000-08:00

Saturday 2nd Feb'08 20:45hrs

I reach the Nizamuddin railway station at 07:00hrs and see the Goa Sampark Kranti already waiting in platform# 7. Cool. But as soon as I get inside the train, I realize there is no electricity and the stink is too much to bear. As if all these are not enough, there arrives a herd of cricketers from Kashmir. They are a mix of Moslems, Pundits & Sikhs from J & K... people in different size, age and gender. I take the window seat and look out. Soon all the seats in the coupe are more than occupied with co-passengers I do not quite like the looks of. As the train starts off at 07:30hrs, I go off to sleep, even though I'm not quite used to sleeping in the daytime.

I'm woken up during lunchtime by the 2 young & hyper-actively excited sards (M & N) offering me lunch. UGGGggghhhh!! *GO AWAY!!* I hide under my naga-shawl even though its too warm by now. I can't sleep back. These guys are chomping and yapping away to glory. I sit up straight and find company in Tuesdays with Morrie. I read it straight up and finish it off around 19:00hrs. Now I'm hungry. I eat something at the next station. M & N follow me like shadows. I get back to my seat. M starts a conversation. I pretend I'm deaf. N tries to show he's mature; asks M to keep quiet. *N scores brownie points here* I keep the bored-to-death look on my face and body-language intact. It helps. I sleep off at 21:00hrs sharp.

(Note to myself: Worst journey of my life. GgRRRrrrr!)

Sunday 3rd Feb'08 23:55hrs

Its a lovely morning. *especially because those nerds are nowhere around to be seen* I yawn aloud and stretch. A couple of oldies and kids inspect me like I am from outer space. I look at the passenger sitting beside me just by instinct, and...I have to look again...*my eyes pop out and fall off* A HOTTIE!!...reading the newspaper....*Awwww!!!* Now where on earth has this one landed from?? (let me guess...ummm MARS?!) He reminds me of my friend R. I think I'm staring. That's too obvious. But I'm not staring, I'm looking at him because Hottie looks so much like R. Does that mean R is a hottie too and I haven't realized it all this while? That's too much of thinking to be done on a train journey (especially to Goa). Hottie looks at me and attempts a light smile, slightly uncomfortable. I surprise myself by smiling back when I don't want to. Hottie extends his hand and says he is S. I shake hands and say hi! Everything is nice and smooth and we get talking while the others look on and the nerds barge in. S happens to be in the same group... but he is so refined. (Sigh!). M & N almost starts panting at the prospect of talking to me. S introduces them to me. I say hi without shaking hands. M & N start their much awaited (and mostly one-sided) conversation. I reply in monosyllables when I want to. They are much more stupid than I thought. And desperate. But they appear to be good souls and their stupidities prove to be innocent and very original. I become a little soft. After all, there's not much time left for me to reach my destination. M writes the mobile no.s of all the 3 of them on a piece of paper and hands it over to me, asking me to call them if I ever want to visit J & K.

(Note to myself: Nerds can be sweet at times, but they are basically annoying. I'm losing them fast, so who cares!)

I take a nice long look at S before getting down and when he catches me doing it, I casually drop in the conversation how much he resembles my (actually non-existing) boy-friend. S looks disappointed but I clear my stand. M & N simply gape. Then S says something really sweet..."Bring him along too...to Kashmir. It would be nice to meet the lucky man."

I'm so touched. I get off at my destination (Thivm) with a heavy heart and an even heavier duffel and head straight to Tony's cottage at Anjuna Beach.

I choose a nice front room (courtesy Tony), unpack and take a long leisurely bath, before going out to the beach. A little later I go to meet Baba (another shack-owner, who had refused to give me a room the first time I landed in Goa, but later on, became a very good friend). I ask Baba for food and a Masala Chai. He offers me a seafood burger and beer instead. That's why the love them Goans. As I'm eating and having the beer, a Chinese man comes by and makes a joint. Its good stuff, I can make out from the smell. He offers me to share the joint, but I'm just too tired. So I refuse politely and both of us try to converse in broken English. As the Chinese man was doing the last few drags and I was gulping down my last few sips of beer and burger crumbs, a small carnival band comes right up to the Paradiso-turn just a few feet away. Baba asks me to go watch. I run to the point with my camera to watch all those colorful floats and troops. These are mostly white-people, not the locals, but its fun none-the-less. A white lady who looks totally stoned, comes by and kisses people randomly... on the mouth... *EEKS!* I escape and she catches hold of a guy standing next to me.... N. He doesn't seem to mind, but his girlfriend A, doesn't look so amused. We become friends. They have a couple of other friends- R & S. They are all from Mumbai. We all say hi to each other and watch the carnival for sometime. Later on, we decide to go to the Hilltop and have a freaky time till past midnight with port wine & psychedelic trance at its loudest. *a total WOW experience!!!* R hails from Goa, so she meets up with friends and cousins there. S is drunk silly on 3 large vodka shots. A seems a little bored and lost as N and I are dancing to the trance beats. Just before midnight, N drops me to my guest house and returns to his gang-o-girls. I call it a day.

(Note to myself: Who gives you a nice time... friendly strangers or strange friends???)

Monday 4th Feb'08 23:00hrs

I'm woken up by a loud knock on the door, around 8ish.*Who's it?*. "Hey, its me... N". Am surprised but still open the door for him. He explains sheepishly that they had all stayed at R's native place in Vagator nearby and did not go off to Calangute to their hotel last night. And since he woke up early and the girls were catching up on their beauty-sleep, can we please go for breakfast?! I get ready in 10 minutes flat and we're off to the German Bakery at the Anjuna junction. As we're finishing off breakfast, N gets a call from R's mother that the girls have woken up and waiting for him. He leaves. I go off to the beach for some sun-tan and water-play till mid-day. I experiment with my Canon SLR at all the hours of the day, trying to learn all its hidden features. When I have enough, I take a long long bath in the warm afternoon sea, then go hog on sea-food and port-wine in one of my favorite shacks nearby. After lunch and a quick afternoon siesta, I go shopping gift-items and mementos for friends back in Delhi. I buy beads and anklets and a marble-chillum and a nice green dress and a pair of crocs for the beach. Now I'm happy with all the shopping. *little pleasures of life*. In the evening, I walk down to and pay a visit to Tony's family. That beach is not one of my favorite, so I come back to before its too late. Its too early for dinner and I'm not hungry yet. And I don't have anything much to do. So, I stop by at the 'VagatorAnjunaSea Queen' shack for their evening movies. I watch SHOOT 'EM UP on their big screen projector. Then have a light supper and walk back to my room. I read up some before calling it a day.

(Note to myself: Alright, so the day has gone by unexpectedly uneventful and laid back! But I like it this way sometimes. I miss my girlfriends though... and some of my guy friends too... *wink!*)

Tuesday 5th Feb'08 23:45hrs

Good-morning.... Goa! Its such a lovely morning. Just by the thought of how much lies ahead to be done the whole day, gets me all excited. I go to a secluded spot near the German Bakery which looks like a deserted graveyard, but the place is not as scary as has high walls with lots of stairs and an uphill. I can see some huts and a little hint of civilization up on the hill. So I'm not all that scared. I climb up to the highest stair and sit up on the wall with the hope of catching the first rays of the morning sun with my camera. After what seems to be a long wait, the sun finally shows itself. Not as beautiful as I expect it to be, the sunrise. In Goa, its the sunset at the beach that is the most breathtaking site. Nonetheless, I click some pics and climb down the wall and the stairs and head straight to the German Bakery for breakfast. I'm getting addicted to their masala chai, cheese-burger & omlette breakie. I do my usual sun-soaking and then after a shower and change, at about mid afternoon, I start off for Mapusa.

Today is the last day of the Carnival and its in Mapusa. I can't afford to miss this one. By the time I reach Mapusa and scan the market for some local Goan lunch, the floats are already there on the main road. I rush to catch a glimpse and after I see a couple of them, I'm captivated. I go on clicking them one after another. One float is better than the other. The cheer, the colors, the excitement is all so enticing.... its unbelievable. Before I realize, its dark. I rush to the market to buy some eatables... cashews, dry apricots, prawns balchao, dry-fish, churiso, wines, port-wines, etc. While I was buying my stuff, stacking my wine bottles here and there in the 2 bags I was carrying, it created quite an amusing view (apparently) for 2 friendly strangers-M & A, who have been watching me all this while from outside the shop.*twist in the tale*We say hi! to each other and chat up. They are from Mumbai again. M looks like either a cross-dresser or gay, but nonetheless very friendly and open-hearted and A has a permanent 'bored to death' expression glued on her face. Later I found out that she's not actually bored, but that's the way she looks even while she smiles. I couldn't be bothered. We find a local bar and sit there chatting up, eating, drinking and clicking pictures together. We get along so well that we decide to extend our meet and go over to Club Titos (Baga Beach) at about 22:30hrs. That's where M & A are putting up. They have a car, so we all hop in. My shopping bags in tow.

We have a wild time at Titos and M attracts a lot of 'unwanted' attention while revealing up to his thighs while dancing in his beach sarong on the dance floor. Both A and I lose him in the dance floor and we come out to the bar for more beer. We catch up on beer and some girlie talks and just when 4 cuties come up to us to ask us for a dance, M finds us and snarls at the cuties.*darn!* He looks hurt at our betrayal. Suddenly I am drunk and too tired. So, I want to go to my room. Them good souls drop me to my hotel room and ask for my tomorrow's plans. Without even thinking I utter out that I have to go to the Anjuna Wednesday Flea Market tomorrow morning. Both of them (being first-timers in Goa) invite themselves to come with me. We fix to meet up tomorrow at my room at 10:00hrs, I gather all my shopping bags and bid each other goodnight.

(Note to myself: Quite a day. Whew! And quite an odd couple. But they are harmless, so I'm kewl.)

Wednesday 6th Feb'08 23:00hrs

I sleep straight till 09:45hrs and wake up with a start at the shrieking alarm clock bell of my new next-door neighbors. *What a timing!* In a jiffy, I shower and get ready and walk up to the shack right across my hotel for a quick breakie. As I finish off the last bit of breakfast, M & A arrive. We drive to the Flea Market and buy a whole lot of junkies. We finish our shopping and a complete round of the market by 15:00hrs, then stop by at a local eatery there in the market for delicious yet affordable local goan lunch. We are all happy with our new possessions.

M decides to take me & A to his local goan friend at Calangute Beach, who owns a shack. We all go over to meet J at his shack. As we reached there, J welcomed all of us with a big friendly smile and open arms for warm hugs. It was hard to believe someone can be so friendly from the first meet. But I observe that in J's line of business, this is extremely important for his clientele to spread about his service and attitude by word of mouth and hence make him more popular than the 10 other competitive shacks in the neighborhood. The pool-table in his shack (the only one in that area) proves to be another added bonus point for his shack's popularity and earnings. And the tall-dark-handsome hunk (his most prized employee) is a hot favorite escort amongst the single white women who visited the shack. There was no leaf unturned by J to soar his business much higher than all his competitions. We sit there chatting, playing pool, sipping on beer and port wine, eating huge crispy-fried tiger-prawns, mussels, etc. everything on the house. There was no way one couldn't keep from coming back to a place like this. We leave for our respective hotels at around 22:00hrs. M & A drop me to my hotel room. They leave for Mumbai tomorrow early morning.

(Note to myself: I learned so much from J today. If you run a business, be passionate, shrewd and friendly in an absolutely balanced ratio. There is no way you can fail. I'm so impressed. It was also nice to have met M & A. Friendly strangers turn into my good-natured, pure-hearted friends... at least for now.. and I loved every moment being with them.)

Thursday 7th Feb'08 00:00hrs

Rise & shine gorgeous! Its a bright new day again. My last day in Goa for this season. And I'm on my own. I have not planned the day yet. Let me take it slow and on impulse today...
I have breakfast at Tony's shack today, their specialty being freshly-baked homemade pitta bread & hummus with masala chai. I feel so satiated. After breakfast, I sunbathe and take a swim in the almost empty beach. The local tourist crowd have all left and there were only a few foreign tourists left in sight. The season is getting leaner by the day. I go to my room, take a shower, get dressed, check my jhola for money, water bottle, sunglasses, a book and some dry-fruits to munch on, then set out just aimlessly for destination anywhere. I keep walking till I reach the Anjuna junction bus-stop and get up on the first bus which stops. Its going to Calangute. That brings a smile to my lips and as I pay the bus-fare to the conductor with a mysterious smile, he looks confused, yet shrugging his shoulders moves on indifferently to the next passenger for fare. My co-passenger is a local school-teacher and we have a short but friendly conversation till she reaches her destination. After sometime I reach my destination too. And without any help from my brain, my feet walks to J's shack.

J has a big smile glued on his face as he sees me. He welcomes me exactly like yesterday and tells me to feel at home. I make it clear that today I'm gonna eat, play and drink here only if he allows me to pay. He wouldn't listen. Finally we both settled on me paying whatever amount he'd quote, without him showing me their menu-card for the prices. I keep my jhola with the accountant, take my book to the beach, do some reading, sun-bathing, sand-writing and clicked a few random pics of strangers and of the staff at J's shack. Mr. TDH doesn't have any customers to escort today. So, he kills time with me. I tell him that I don't need an escort, but he clarifies that he's only into white women and that I don't need to get scared. I discover that he's an educated, well-read bartender, but not rich enough to fulfill his dream of going abroad to work, on his own. He sees escorting every single white lady as a new opportunity for work permit abroad and also the earnings out of it go into his savings for his 'overseas dream' after giving J a fat cut-out as commission. I was touched by TDH's story. We played some pool together and he offered to take me to a casino in the evening. He and J had plans of going to one of their favorite casinos in the evening anyway, as the business was lean today. I agreed immediately, as I had never seen a real-life casino ever.

J drove us all to the CASINO CARNIVAL at the Goa Marriott Resort in Miramar Beach. They charged Rs. 200/- per head. Their dress-code being formals and smart-casuals, I suddenly felt under-dressed in my beach sun-dress and flip-flops. But these are situations when a lady feels privileged when she is not stopped by anyone for not following any rule. I never looked more confident than this time in my life. With 2 well-dressed men coming to the casino to blow their money, I felt no less than a princess. J & Mr. TDH indulged in Roulette, Black Jack, Baccarat & Slot Machines keeping me nearby as their lucky mascot, but lost miserably.*tch..tcchhh!* But hey, I never asked them to gamble, nor told them I'm lady luck, so I maintained a blank innocent look on my face throughout.

After losing enough money, J & TDH took me to Palmeira, the Marriott's in-house multi-cuisine dining restaurant for a nice chatty dinner, after which both the men drop me off to my hotel room and left for their destination.

(Note to myself: Its such a good yet strange feeling to be able to trust people in a place like. People I hardly know, yet I could trust, not to cheat me or take advantage of. Yet another reason why I'm in love with Goa and its natives. Boy! Am I tired?!*yawn!*)

Friday 8th Feb'08 22:00hrs

With a heavy, reluctant feeling, I slide out of bed and get ready to leave. Checklist for everything to be packed. My bags are super-heavy with all the shopping here. I go to Tony's shack to pay him. The good soul gives me a hefty discount for being an old customer and a long stay, so I am left with more money to do more shopping on the way, if I can. Seeing my super-heavy bags, Tony offers to drop me in his van till half-way till Panjim. And I thought courtesy is an extinct virtue unheard of by Indian men.*Sigh!*

(Note to myself: I'll get all teary-eyed and never leave if the Goans continue to be so nice to me.)

I have to come to Vasco to board the Goa Express at 14:00hrs. After bidding Tony 'goodbye' at Panjim, I boarded a bus to the Vasco railway station which brought me in time to grab a quick Goan lunch just outside the station and also to pick up some more cashew packets to send home to Ma.

The train's on time and I board it peacefully. It was thankfully not too crowded. So, it was a perfect time to devour John Grogan's 'Marley & Me'.

I read, ate, slept and did not even look up to see my co-passengers this time.

As I finished reading the book and my heart grew heavy at the world's worst, yet most lovable dog's demise, we reached the Nizamuddin railway station, Delhi, on Sunday 10th Feb'08 06:00hrs.

And that's how ended my fun-filled, carefree & colorful time in Goa this once.

The SUNSCREEN Song

2008-02-20T01:50:00.000-08:00

Everybody's Free
(to wear sunscreen)

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97... wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be IT.

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice... now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.

You are NOT as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard;
live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

I can never fail to get inspired by this song... time and again...

This Valentine's...

2008-02-14T03:56:00.000-08:00

I was so so happy just after being back on terra firma from my Goa trip... really refreshed and energetic. And then something snapped again... I don't know what! No, its not because I'm back at work again.. I can live with my work, without squirming, for atleast another couple of months. Its that sinking feeling again... the blues...(and no, I'm not pms-ing, either).
I feel I just couldn't care less about dressing up... about how I look... I don't feel like talking to people around... When someone comes to me to chit-chat I find it so intruding, I can hardly stop myself from snarling at them. I find all the funny jokes really annoying and silly... I don't feel hungry more than once in 24hrs... I have problems sleeping at night and I can only manage to catch on some sleep by the wee hours of the morning. I am restless almost all the time... I feel like smoking but when I do, my throat feels like its rotting inside... All the hype about the Valentine's Day isn't helping too much either. Suddenly I feel so old that it almost seems I belong to a different century... like I've been around forever. And yes, those men... they all seem so wrong... Will somebody please tell me where the right ones are? if they were there at all?? or have they just vanished into thin air when I wasn't looking??? Forget about men, but what is it that I'm looking for? I know I'm longing for something thats really close to my heart... something that I'd go to any extent to get hold of and then hold onto, but I don't know what it is... My heart longs and hurts and I can feel sensations which I never knew, existed.
Maybe I'm suffering from schizophrenia... maybe I'm just Goa-sick... maybe I'm in love... Maybe I'll never know the difference before this dangerous feeling goes away and I become my happy, carefree self again...
Happy Valentine's to all, anyway...

The SUN and the SEA beckons

2008-02-01T03:34:00.000-08:00

The cold-waves doing their rounds in making Delhi winters chillier than ever; the lazy sleepy sun who seems to peep out of the sky not out of willingness but as an obligation to mark its daily attendance; loading yourself with layers of thick woollens making your 'to-die-for' figure and 'sense of style' sink rapidly below zero-level (no, those hot micro-minis with leggings and pointy-boots don't keep you warm enough); the zest to go out and do so many things that could have been done during the whole day only if you could've managed to drag yourself out of that cozy mink blanket in the morning; the same old boring job; the same ol' faces that you see day in and day out; the urgency to invest your hard-earned money into all kinds of tax-saving plans and policies; the oh-so-irresistable 'end-of-winter-sale' all over the city when you feel like buying everything but cannot (remember? those bonds, insurance policies and provident-funds to secure your future); all your dearest friends either on a long vacation or just caught up with their share of mundane jobs... just name it and believe me, just about anything can be reason enough for me to hate the winters. I am anything but a winter person. The winters depress me to no end and I'm at my gloomiest, moodiest and crankiest best (read worst). I generally try to retain my saneness by escaping to the seaside and soaking in some sun to rejuvenate myself in the winters. But unfortunately, I could not manage to escape to Goa (my favourite destination) for this last Christmas and New Year's. So you can imagine, I have been at my snappiest best at the slightest of provocation, to anyone who had dared to try any of their wisecracks anywhere around my close proximity.
After shouting at the office-transporters for their consistent inefficiency, snapping at about 50% of my colleagues from the team and then profusely apologising for being rude to them for no reasonable reason, first trying to convince my boss then confusing him to the extent of him approving 10 days of paid leaves for me (of-course with sufficient amount of emotional drama and also managing to shed a few crocodile tears... a la Bollywood ishtyle), giving the office tax-consultant a piece of mind for wrong tax-deduction from my salary, and being enquired by a third guy-friend if I am about to have my periods for such foul mood-swings, I am finally leaving for my favourite destination tomorrow early morning to get myself plenty of fresh coastal air, to catch on a lovely tan and to devour my favourite sea-food-cusines and to get sloshed with all those intoxicating port-wines. A week of carefree hippie-life with no connectivity with the rest of the world... a time when I can paint myself all over with the exquisite colours of the carnival... to be with people who are complete strangers but ones who make me feel I belong. For only by doing so, I know, I will be at peace with myself. My beloved beckons and I have to go... for old times' sake... for heavens' sake... and for everybody elses' sake. Amen!

My new-found Passion

2008-01-30T02:51:00.000-08:00

I am a hard-core foodie. I confess I like eating everything edible, except for 'kardhi-chawal' and a few oil-and-spice-laced Indian dishes on a regular basis. But given no alternatives, I can manage to eat that too. My strongest guess says its a genetic trait passed on from my dad. Anyone who sees me eating unashamedly is usually shocked and amused by the quantity I can consume at a go and the amount of satisfaction that reflects on my face and eyes after I relish a meal. But to everyone's surprise and mine, my appetite and consumption capacity does not reflect on my physical frame at all... thank God! So I was saying, being fond of eating, I obviously like cooking and experimenting with various recipes. But there would be conditions attached... like I need a sparkling clean kitchen with enough moving space, fully equipped with all the right utensils and ingredients.. sharp knives, et al... a nicely stocked refrigerator and a never-ending supply of water. Oh, did I mention my (culinary) mood and the comfort-level of whose kitchen I'm using?!
So, the first place which qualifies my basic requirements, is my friend-Jeena's kitchen. Of-course my mom's kitchen would have been my first preferance (only if she was not always in a hurry to rustle up meals for the family and the ever-welcomed guests), but that's almost like a far-from-real fantasy, I have realised over the years. And my own kitchen? Well, if you really have to know, it is only equipped with the basic requirements of making fast-food... like the baking and grilling kinds and full-course meals only once in a blue moon. Excepting the occassional cooking at Jeena's, naga-cuisines at Naro's (my friend from Nagaland) and home-made food from my colleagues at the work-place, I more-or-less survive on zero-oil, zero-caloried grills, bakes, steams and boils on all the other moons. So, over these years of my stay in Delhi I used to consider 'cooking' as the last or second-last priority in the to-do list of things during my weekends. Takeaways, pastas, pizzas, sandwiches, fruits & salads, steamed vegetables and boiled/poached eggs, though dull, are re-assuringly time-efficient staples of my daily diet. So, the only times I really relish eating my-kind-of homemade food, are the times I visit home and feast on my ma's (mostly dad's) cooking. Oh by the way, my dad is a better cook than my ma and all he needs to take over the kitchen and prepare yummy meals to fill up the dining table, is just a little mention of how much I miss his chicken-curry or duck-roast or any of the sticky-rice dishes that he specialises in.
Anyway, being bored of what I was eating here all this while and being recommended by the doctor to eat proper home-made meals after I fell ill sometime back, I resolved to do some real-time cooking on a daily basis in my very own kitchen. I learnt some easy-to-make recipes from my ma's collection, some naga-delicacies from Naro and a few yummylicious recipes from Manju Malhi's show-Cooking Isn't Rocket Science shown on NDTV Goodtimes. My belief about cooking full meals being a waste of valuable time, was disillusioned as I started to enjoy the process. Rather than being the dull utilitarian practice I imagined, cooking I realise, is the most creative of all art forms. And there is something deeply satisfying about taking separate ingredients and creating something new and unique, which pleases the tastebuds and hence instantly devoured.
The great appeal of cooking lies in the touch-feel-smell therapy. The sensation of chopping, slicing & stirring... the smell of crushed garlic and green chillies as it simmers with the olive oil, finely diced onions and chopped tomatoes... the varied natural colours of different vegetables combining into a multi-coloured dish one main colour of turmeric overpowering them all... and the final touch of fresh coriander leaves garnishing a dish... are all so glorious and demands one to be engaged in that 'cooking moment'.
Fortunately for me, cooking is now a choice rather than a chore or responsibility. And guess who is the happiest with my making this one sensible choice in what seemed to be a lifetime? No prizes for guessing... you are right. Its my ma. She has spent the best part of her life feeding my perfectionist-foodie of a father, the never-ending list of guests and relatives, and ofcourse her three notorious daughters with completely different tastes from each other. So I suspect she would be less persuaded to believe that cooking is as relaxing or liberating as I claim. Nonetheless, cooking is not only creative, it also encourages social interaction. Now that I cook, I sometimes carry meals to the office and share the food with my colleagues who had fed me with their home-made meals at some point of time. So I get a chance to return the favour. I also feel like inviting friends for lunches or dinners. Though its another story whether or not they like the taste of what I cook. But the satisfaction derived from others liking and appreciating your preparations is almost at par with the satisfaction derived from someone appreciating any other work of art created by you. When so much of modern life gets onto you, cooking at home demands an active engagement with your inner self and reminds us that life is there to be savoured. And the last tip from my end... always cook with fondness and lots of love. It really comes out in the food.

Little things which make you HAPPY

2008-01-28T07:44:00.000-08:00

It seems slightly strange to talk about an individual's minimum requirements for being happy, as everyone has different requirements for happiness. Have you ever stopped doing something you really enjoy doing, just because you got too busy and forgot all about it? I think we have all done that once in a while. Remember, what it felt like to do this activity again? If it was a great thrill of the experience itself, coupled with a thought of 'oh yeah, this feels great' then you're on the right track.
A couple of examples from my own life this past weekend, might be helpful for you to connect with what I'm talking about...

Last friday (the 25th of Jan'08), our office had organised a painting competition for the employees on the event of the next day's Republic Day celebration. I had not planned to participate, but at the 11th hour I felt like taking in the plunge and found myself leaving my daily share of work, loitering around from floor to floor in search of the organizers, paper, paints, brushes, et al. Finally I managed all of them on the basis of the begging-borrowing-stealing that I could resort to. And then when I mixed the colours on the pallette and the first stroke of the sable-hair-brush hit the ivory cartridge sheet, mixed with water and the bright colours, all mixed and blended, I wondered why on earth hadn't I done this in ages. The smell of the paints and the view of the mixed colours on the paper, filled my heart and soul with a renewed pleasure I had forgotten behind. The painting turned out to be a beauty in my eye... and hopefully for the others, too. I'd only know it later in the week.

Again on saturday (the 26th of Jan), I gave a miss to my usual movie-watching routine. My almost zero-bank balance and the freezing cold waves doing their rounds in Delhi, were the major contributors for this. But being the outdoor person I am, I couldn't hold myself back in the confines of my room any longer than 6pm. So I went out for an evening walk in the neighbourhood. While coming back, I crossed several vegetable-vendors selling fresh, colourful vegetables. And I had to give in to the temptation of buying those beauties. Though I felt like bringing all of them home, I searched for and could fish out only 80 bucks from all that I had in my pocket and spent it all buying those yummy looking broccolis, celeries, button mushrooms, bitter-gourds, eggplants, spring-onions, beans, tomatoes, carrots and red-cabbages. They were just too irresistible to be spared from bringing back home to the kitchen.

Yesterday was a broody day for me. But thanks to all the vegetables bought in from the previous evening. I spent the whole day cooking. I baked pasta in white-sauce with some of the vegetables, on the other hand prepared a 3-course naga-meal with the other set of vegetables, greens and dried meat. And though I felt quite relaxed (mentally) and tired (physically) by the end of all the cooking, I realised that I wasn't even hungry... either for lunch or for dinner. So, I watched some television, talked on the phone, prepared myself a cocktail-blood on the rooftop-with redwine and apple juice, and drank myself to sleep.

A totally uneventful and boring weekend, you might feel, but it made me re-discover a few things I had totally forgotten doing. A slow weekend which brought some happiness to me. And the cooking came in handy for today's lunch and dinner at work.

LIFE'S LESSONS

2008-01-10T08:00:00.000-08:00

Lessons I learnt in life...

01. Gossip, men, coffee and chocolates... some things are better dark and rich.

02. If you are a lady who knows to cook and drive, HUSH! Just keep it to yourself. After all, why do all the hard work if you can get away faking ignorance?!

03. Men come and men go, but friends are forever and nearly always outlast (superficial) lovers.

04. A not-so-goodlooking guy who is chivalrous, polished, good to you and genuinely cares about you is much more worthy than a good-looking guy who is insensitive to your feelings.

05. Not having a man in your life is not reason enough to go into a full-on crisis mode. Infact, to be single is better than to be stuck in a bad relationship.

06. Share everything with your mate... except the details of ex-s and the location of your porn stash...(wink!)

07. Men do make passes at girls who wear glasses or braces. Infact, some men even make passes at anything that moves, crawls and wears a skirt.

08. Dress up real nice on a dull and depressing day. Who knows, you might run into a cute guy who might ask you out or better yet, meet a woman you could make so jealous.

09. Exercise is a great excuse to wear clingy clothes, but it is something you do to keep fit, not to get thin.

10. There is no fight that can't be won when wearing sexy lingerie or only that.

11. A designer bikini can cost more than a whole outfit.

12. It IS possible to have too many shoes, bags or clothes.

13. A good haircut is well worth the investment. After all, you have to wear it everyday.

14. It is much better to spend your money on a vacation than on luxury items. The vacation will provide memories and lessons that will last a lifetime. The latter, only momentary pleasure and maybe a little chance to show off.

15. The world is a much better place after a glass of wine.

16. Nobody really cares that you have that ugly acne on your left cheek or nose or wherever. The truth be told, you are probably the only one aware of and annoyed with its existence.

17. Eat all the carbs-and-calories you want, while you still can. Soon, that spoonful of chocolate mousse or mayonnaise will travel straight to your mid-riff area.

18. After you reach a certain age, no matter how much you diet and however hard you exercise, you will never be twig-thin again like you were as a teenager. And clothes which looked good on you a decade ago, won't look that way ever again... even if the fashion is back.

19. No matter how many creams you rub into your problem zones, you can't stop the inexorable march of cellulite onto your thighs, arms and butts. Gravity will take its toll on you and everything that can sag, will sag. So, don't bother fighting it.

20. People who invest in LICs, Mutual Funds and Retirement Policies while still in their 20s, are NOT losers.

21. It is better to buy a property than to rent... even if it means living in an area that you don't consider entirely worthy of you.

22. Its difficult to soar high like eagles if you work with turkeys.

23. You will never be able (or willing) to work this hard again. So make the most while still at it. But don't lose sight of the fact that there is life outside your workplace.

24. You can only really make friends when you are young. After that, you're only stuck with chance acquaintances and work contacts whom you also socialize with.

25. There is a reason why you lost touch with so many 'friends' you made in school, high-school and college. You simply had nothing much in common, except for the fact that you were once together, somewhere, somehow. So, there's no need to feel guilty when charged with 'dropping' them.

26. If you want something, don't be afraid to ask.

27. Do not be afraid to speak out your mind... ever.

28. If you dare to do the impossible, it actually becomes possible, 'cause the 'impossibler' does not exist.

29. You can't change the world. But don't let it change you either.

30. Whatever you give to others, comes back to you... in this very life.

31. Nothing is as important as you think and everthing in life (good or bad) shall pass. Yes, it truly will!

MOVIES I watched in 2007

2008-01-04T01:18:00.000-08:00

S.N. Date Time (hrs) Cinema Movie

1 06th Jan'07 11:10 PVR-Priya BHAGAM BHAG

2 06th Jan'07 14:20 PVR-Priya BABEL

3 23rd Jan'07 11:00 Anuradha-Ghy SALAAM-E-ISHQ

4 27th Jan'07 11:00 Anuradha-Ghy GURU

5 08th Feb'07 10:00 PVR-Saket DEJA VU

6 08th Feb'07 16:10 PVR-Saket PARZANIA

7 10th Feb'07 13:45 PVR-Priya THE HOLIDAY

8 10th Feb'07 16:30 PVR-Priya BLACK FRIDAY

9 17th Feb'07 11:15 PVR-Priya EKLAVYA

10 17th Feb'07 13:30 PVR-Priya MUSIC AND LYRICS

11 24th Feb'07 10:20 PVR-Priya GHOST RIDER

12 24th Feb'07 12:40 PVR-Priya HONEYMOON TRAVELS PVT LTD

13 03rd Mar'07 10:00 PVR-Spice LAST KING OF SCOTLAND

14 03rd Mar'07 13:40 PVR-Spice BLOOD DIAMOND

15 03rd Mar'07 15:40 PVR-Spice NISHABD

16 10th Mar'07 10:00 PVR-Priya APOCALYPTO

17 10th Mar'07 15:15 PVR-Priya WATER

18 11th Mar'07 11:00 Chanakya RED

19 15th Mar'07 09:20 PVR-Saket PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS

20 24th Mar'07 09:40 PVR-Priya 300

21 24th Mar'07 12:00 PVR-Priya NAMASTE LONDON

22 31th Mar'07 12:00 PVR-Saket THE NAMESAKE

23 14th Apr'07 11:30 PVR-Priya BHEJA FRY

24 14th Apr'07 13:30 PVR-Priya ERAGON

25 14th Apr'07 15:45 PVR-Priya PERFECT STRANGER

26 20th Apr'07 22:45 PVR-Spice THE REAPING

27 21st Apr'07 11:00 Chanakya KYA LOVE STORY HAI

28 27th Apr'07 22:45 PVR-Spice TARA RUM PUM

29 12th May'07 10:20 Chanakya LIFE IN A METRO

30 19th May'07 14:00 PVR-Priya SPIDERMAN 3

31 20th May'07 10:00 PVR-Saket MADAGASKAR

32 30th May'07 13:35 Chanakya CHEENI KUM

33 30th May'07 16:30 Chanakya SHOOTOUT AT LOKHAND

34 10th Jun'07 10:10 PVR-Priya OCEAN'S 13

35 10th Jun'07 12:20 PVR-Priya PIRATES OF THE CARIBEAN

36 23rd Jun'07 15:00 PVR-Saket THE QUEEN

37 23rd Jun'07 17:20 PVR-Saket SHREK THE THIRD

38 30th Jun'07 10:20 PVR-Priya DIE HARD 4.0

39 07th Jul'07 12:20 PVR-Saket THE GRUDGE 2

40 08th Jul'07 10:00 PVR-Saket THE BONG CONNECTION

41 08th Jul'07 12:15 PVR-Saket EPIC MOVIES

42 14th Jul'07 11:00 Chanakya NAQAAB

43 21st Jul'07 13:50 PVR-Priya HARRY POTTER & THE GOBLET OF

44 21st Jul'07 16:40 PVR-Priya PARTNER

45 22ndJul'07 10:20 PVR-Saket VACANCY

46 04thAug'07 11:00 Chanakya CASH

47 05thAug'07 10:30 PVR-Saket THE SIMPSONS

48 05thAug'07 12:00 PVR-Saket BOW BARRACKS FOREVER

49 11th Aug'07 11:45 PVR-Saket SURF'S UP

50 11th Aug'07 18:30 Sapna CHAK DE INDIA

51 12th Aug'07 15:15 SATYAM-N.Plc GANDHI MY FATHER

52 26th Aug'07 11:00 Chanakya HEY BABYY

53 01st Sep'07 13:55 PVR-Priya RGV KI AAG

54 02ndSep'07 12:15 PVR-Saket THE INVASION

55 08th Sep'07 14:20 PVR-Priya DHAMAAL

56 08th Sep'07 17:00 PVR-Priya DARLING

57 09th Sep'07 11:00 SATYAM-N.Plc APNA ASMAAN

58 04th Oct'07 10:30 PVR-Priya JOHNNY GADDAAR

59 04th Oct'07 13:15 PVR-Priya DHOL

60 04th Oct'07 16:10 PVR-Priya LOINS OF PUNJAB

61 06th Oct'07 14:05 PVR-Saket DIL DOSTI ETC

62 07th Oct'07 12:30 PVR-Saket THE BOURNE ULTIMATUM

63 07th Oct'07 15:45 PVR-Saket NO RESERVATION

64 13th Oct'07 13:10 Chanakya LAAGA CHUNARI MEIN DAAG

65 14th Oct'07 10:25 Chanakya BHOOL BHULAIYAA

66 20th oct'07 11:00 SATYAM-N.Plc HANNIBAL RISING

67 27th Oct'07 10:30 Chanakya JAB WE MET

68 28th Oct'07 13:10 PVR-Saket A MIGHTY HEART

69 28th Oct'07 15:10 PVR-Saket RESIDENT EVIL:EXTINCTION

70 28th Oct'07 19:10 PVR-Saket MUMBAI SALSA

71 03rd Nov'07 13:30 SATYAM-N.Plc SHOOT EM UP

72 03rd Nov'07 16:00 SATYAM-N.Plc THE BRAVE ONE

73 11th Nov'07 10:30 PVR-Priya OM SHANTI OM

74 11th Nov'07 13:45 PVR-Priya SAAWARIYA

75 17th Nov'07 11:00 SATYAM-N.Plc DECEMBER BOYS

76 17th Nov'07 13:15 SATYAM-N.Plc BREACH

77 23rd Nov'07 12:00 Sapna-EOK (Forgot)

78 25th Nov'07 19:30 PVR-Rivoli DHANDHANADHAN GOAL

79 01st Dec'07 11:50 SATYAM-N.Plc BEOWULF

80 01st Dec'07 14:00 SATYAM-N.Plc GAURI-THE UNBORN

81 01st Dec'07 16:20 SATYAM-N.Plc 30 DAYS OF NIGHTS

82 02nd Dec'07 10:40 PVR-Saket THE KINGDOM

83 02nd Dec'07 12:45 PVR-Saket LIONS FOR LAMBS

84 12th Dec'07 14:00 Anuradha-Ghy DUS KAHANIYAAN

85 22ndDec'07 10:35 PVR-Priya AIR BUDDIES

86 22ndDec'07 12:25 PVR-Priya TAARE ZAMEEN PAR

87 22ndDec'07 16:45 SATYAM-N.Plc WELCOME

88 23rdDec'07 10:00 PVR-Saket I AM LEGEND

89 29thDec'07 13:10 PVR-Saket 1408

90 30thDec'07 15:10 PVR-Saket RETURN OF HANUMAN

91 30thDec'07 17:20 PVR-Saket BEE MOVIE

Goodbye 2007, Welcome 2008

2008-01-02T01:21:00.000-08:00

2007 had been a very exciting and eventful year for me. Lots of travelling, lots of movies, good friends, met interesting people, attended quite a few weddings, became an aunt. Also I discovered 'orkut' and got a little addicted to it, till the time I got caught red-handed while being online from work (oops! its a zero-tolerance, but they decided to tolerate me on for one last time). But then, what the heck? I made a couple of very good friends and it was worth the risk.
Well, now its time to analyse the resolutions which I had made for the past year.
Resolutions 007 status:
#1: Smoking-Did not smoke at all till the 15th August 2007, but then I smoked on and off once in a while.
#2: Organic life-Ate healthy, exercised, meditated and cut down on alchohol to a great extent. Only stuck to beer and red-wine when I had to drink. Also curbed down on meat, being strictly vegan on tuesdays & saturdays (even if that meant a lot of hassles and being the odd one out at social gatherings).
#3: Photography-Even though my uncle gifted me with his old Canon SLR, I couldn't bring myself to do a lot with it yet.
#4: Travel- Oh yes... and a lot. Visited my hometown 4 times in the year (thats the most I've done in all these ten years I have been here in Delhi). Also visited Mumbai, Rishikesh, Daman-Diu and Pushkar.
#5: Gadgets-Got a mixer-juicer-grinder and an oven, but not the i-pod, digicam or the much-required lappy.
#6: Painting-Did not paint at all. Blame it on the mood or the hectic outdoor life or simple laziness.
#7: Pray-Yes, that I did. Chanted 'the gayatri mantra' everyday and 'the hanuman chalisa' on tuesdays. And I feel that has brought in a lot of calm in me. I also realise now that prayer is not about asking God for things to happen, but to thank Him for all that I have and that I'm grateful for the good things that has happened to me.

Now, at the start of the New Year 2008, I promise myself 8 new things-
#1: To earn more money and while also investing for the future, to be able to indulge more.
#2: To upgrade my room and my mobile phone.
#3: To work harder and more sincerely 'coz I realise I've been a lazy bum in the whole last year.
#4: To laugh more, humour more and spread more happiness.
#5: To break more rules by doing crazier stuff than my usual.
#6: To try and travel to the remaining parts of the country I haven't covered yet.
#7: To be more forgiving and be a better human being.
#8: To get married (after I'm done with my travelling, ofcourse!)

STRANGE SOMETHING OF THE NIGHT

2007-11-27T03:30:00.000-08:00

I am a self-confessed believer in God and also in ghosts. No, I haven't seen either but I'm sure both exists like the sun and the moon does. I have often been assured of my belief in God's existence by answered prayers. But the ghost factor still remains an illusion. After watching scary movies, I'm often scared to the extent of not being able to sleep on my own in my room and end up seeking refuge at my landlord's, but thats another story for another day.

Yesterday night even though I slept with a happy state of mind, yet towards the early hours of the morning, I felt I was fighting with some strong external force which was trying to throw me off the bed to the ground. I could also feel some pulling of my hair by that external force and some wind-like noise just next to my ears. I tried to open my eyes and throw the blanket off my face, but I could not. I was gripped... with sleep and fear. I didn't know what to do, but in an instant second, without even trying any further to open my eyes, I chanted the Gayatri Mantra over and over again in my mind and I felt the 'evil' force perish into nothingness slowly. When I felt assured that there was nothing around me that could harm me in any way as I was protected with the strong power of the Mantra, I opened my eyes and threw the blanket off. I was perspiring and was soaked with sweat all over. But I could see or feel nothing out of the ordinary. Out of the window on the left of my bed, I could see the bright moon-lit sky trying to mix colours with the breaking of dawn. I looked at the wall space near the window where I hung the sketch of shiv-shakti with 3 rudraksh beads tied around it. On the right side of my bed, there on my book-shelf stood the small statue of Ganesh-ji in bronze (a gift from my friend Safal).

And then I asked myself, would I have dared to come in here and mess around if I were a ghost? Never! So obviously I must have had a nightmare. And then I drifted off to sleep again still chanting the Gayatri Mantra in my mind till the last few winks of my wakey moments....

In the name of THE HUSBAND, THE CHILD...

2007-10-29T03:57:00.000-07:00

WOMANHOOD... what is the first image which comes to your mind when you hear this word? For me its symbolizes a very strong power of a woman, who would do anything for the love and well being of her husband, her children.... A person so vulnerable to look at, yet so strong from within, so full of love and warmth.... She's a power almost at par with divinity I think...
The hindu religion followers however have always been very insecure of the power bestowed in women by mother nature, even in a male-dominated country like ours. The religious leaders from times immemorial have always prohibited women from chanting mantras (powerful religious slokas from the holy books), performing yajnas (also known as Yagya) and homas (also called havana) and have bestowed a great number of vrats (religious fasts) most or all of them which are observed for the good health and long life of their family, not for themselves. To mention a couple-Sankat Chauth and Aahoyee Ashtami, are vrats observed by mothers and grandmothers, devoted to the good health and welfare of their children and grandchildren. Karva Chauth vrats observed by wives, is devoted to husbands (it was yesterday-the 29th of October, this year). But I really don't understand why all these fasts are incumbent only on women! Is this their ‘gift’ from pseudo-religious-pandits of our society for being a woman? Is there any such vrat which is dedicated for wives or mothers, observed by the husbands or children? It is understandable that vrats for children might be non-reciprocal as they are too young to observe fasts or maybe too weak to cope up with their daily routine while on fast, but what happens after the children grow up? Do they observe atleast 1 day of fast for their mothers in their entire lifetime? No sir! There is no such ritual. Or what explanation do we have for the Karva Chauth vrat? Isn't it surely reciprocal as husbands can well observe this vrat for the health and happiness of their wives? If the working husband is in service, trade, media, industry or agriculture, the domesticated housewife also has to manage the household... a 24X7 job that is more arduous than the husband’s. Today, most modern women earn their share to contribute into the household economy or for their own financial independence and rural women infact, work even harder with their men in agricultural fields. But at the end of the day, we always see the women folk coming back to their kitchens and doing their only share of household chores. Whether she is a part-time domestic help, a doctor, a teacher, an actor or a labour, the woman of the house has to take up the laddle in the kitchen, help her children with homework and maintain a beautiful love-filled 'home'. Isn't it simply amazing the way she manages it all and keep fasts as well?
After being around a few married female colleagues at work who observes the Karva Chauth vrat for the health and longeivity of their husbands, year after year, without even a single drop of water or a morsel of food right from dawn, throughout the day till the moon comes out in the night sky, yet managing to meet up with their 'call targets' of about 200 calls, like everyday(because the UK clients are oblivious to a ritual like this celebrated only by us Indians and hence no downtime) I believe this ritual is almost inhumane, especially for the women who work in a BPO. When I asked a few of them yesterday, like I enquire around every year, most of the women were shocked and scandalised at my question. When I asked them with utter curiosity if their husbands have also kept the fast for their good-health and longeivity, they answered back with double shock and defense that on this day only the women fast for their men and not any otherwise. I mean, c'mmon, don't the husbands need their wives as much as wives need their husbands? Won't doing so not only strengthen the tie of love between them?? Would the husbands actually be able to enjoy their long, healthy lives with their sickly wives who would be long dead before them???

FRIENDS IN NEED

2007-10-23T03:26:00.000-07:00

Not very long ago, just around mid-september I fell seriously ill. It started off with me feeling the blues a little more than usual. I thought it was just 'those days' of the month. Then it was followed by a slight stomach ache towards the right lower abdomen. I ignored it again. Periodic cramps had never been a reason for me to stop and hault my day-to-day super-active routine. But the pain did not subside even after my curse-days ended. As the pain increased to an unbearable level, with shivers and temperature shooting up at regular intervals, I realised there was trouble. So, I took a day off on the 20th of September and went downstairs to visit the lady doc who stays in the same building as mine, on the 1st floor. After the initial testing of the eyes and the tongue and a few presses on either side of my abdomen, front & back, she told me that she suspected jaundice and immediately scribbled down a blood and urine test from the neighbourhood lab. But she would rather I visited a good hospital and get a proper check-up. I was feeling so unwell that I knew I won't be able to make it on my own to any of the hospitals or labs. So I called up my cousin asking him if he could come to my rescue. He did, ofcourse... being the darling he is. I suggested we go to MAX Hospital (considered one of Delhi's best). There I got the initial treatment from the emergency doctor who gave me a couple of injections to bring my fever, shivering & nausea under control and then I had to give my blood and urine samples for the various tests. The next day, still with no improvement in my condition, when I went to collect the samples, the doc referred me to a lady doctor who immediately asked me to get admitted in the hospital's 'Saket' branch where they had an inhouse hospitalisation facility. From that day, the 21st of September, it was a slow curing process which had begun for the infection they had detected in my kidney which had spread onto my blood and urinary track.
The hospital stay, though long and boring, was quite a memorable one. And the few close friends I have here in Delhi, did their best for me which has made me even more closer to them than ever before. Here goes the list-

NIP (as I call him... short for Nabajit)-We are related in some way and have known each other since childhood, but more than relatives/cousins, we are very close friends and he always somehow gets a vibe if I am not well. He was the first one I called up on to take me to the doctor. Though he was not well himself, and had to take care of his 1001 things which he is always caught up with, he still came and took me to the doctor, waited there while I was getting treated. Then picked me up and took me to their place to stay over for the night just in case I feel worse in the night all by myself at my own place. Next day again he brought me to the doc to collect my reports, then drove me to get me admitted in the hospital, filled in all the forms and dealt with the formalities while I waited for the admission. He visited me at intervals during my stay in the hospital too. I can never forget this ever. Love u, Nip. I owe you a big one.
(P.S.- Please forgive me for texting you those stinky messages when you could not visit me for some days at the hospital. I was really sick of looking at the nurses' and doctors' faces and needed friends like you to be around more often. Guess I was asking for a little too much, but then I know I can demand of you whatever I want and be myself without any pretence, isn't it?)

JEENA (my-Xena-the-warrior-princess-of-a-buddy)-She broadcasted all around to all our common friends that I was sick and admitted in the hospital and urged them to visit me positively, almost to a bully-ing extent. And if that was not enough, the ones who did not turn up were not spared of her sarcasm and bitter remarks about their negligence and shameful attitude. Jeena baby, I know you care, but I think you overdid it with both the Sumits and Samrat...(those poor guys!). But she is the one person who visited me almost daily and called me up regularly to ask if I needed anything.
(P.S.-Girl, I want you to know that I used to wait for that time-slot when you'd come and visit me before leaving for your work. You really did a lot to cheer up my mood with your presence around. Thanks dear. Shall never forget this, ever. Also, couldn't have expected any less from you as you are my closest. )

NARO-My naga-friend who has a hectic 9-5 job in the Korean embassy. But once she heard I was in the hospital, she came all the way to see me from the other part of the city. I understand the distance and the nature of her hectic job did not allow her to visit me every day, but she was there on the day I needed someone the most (when the doctors were all on their weekly off on a sunday and the nurses were enjoying their own sweet high-tea while I was shivering with high-fever and extreme pain due to not receiving the injections on time). She went out all the way to find a nurse or a doctor for me and took control of the situation with much calm which had gone very much out of control with me shouting at the nurse and the assistant who had to be brought at my disposal. Thanks, girl. You were an angel for me that day, as always.

AKUM-Naro's boyfriend and my sweet buddy. He was there to see me everytime with Naro and also did his best that sunday to help. His jokes are hilarious which brought a smile on my face in the midst of my sick gloomy mood.

SHIVANI-Nip's gf... my would-be sis-in-law. She really needn't have bothered but she too did her best. She cooked for me while I was at their place. Also visited me in the hospital inspite of all her work. Thanks Shiv-ji.

VISHAK-Nip & Shivani's room-mate. We're friends and he didn't initially realise how sick I was when he saw me in the morning at their place with a swollen grumpy face due to the unbearable pain. He couldn't help laughing and making some nasty remarks, but I forgive him (yet once again...I hope u r keeping a count too, Vishak) as I know he didn't know how sick I was. Also yes, he visited me at the hospital and tried his best to cheer me up, failing miserably. But atleast he tried. Good try, Vishak. Really appreciate your effort. And hey, thanks a ton buddy.

DIPANKAR-My assamese friend in the office. He is my man-friday. I make full use of his being in the transport department of our organisation. Whenever I need to sneak out of office (unofficially), he is the one I need to call and ask for a cab to take me home. And voila! within seconds my work is done. He talks a lot, though... most of the times to a yawningly boring extent. But inspite of everything, he visited me in the hospital twice or thrice, each time staying for a long duration, chatting up constantly, telling me non-stop stories of his forgotten past hospital experiences. But for the first time I realised I was not all that bored of his non-stop gibberish which he's so good with. It helped to hear a human voice talking to me to kill the emptyness and boredom of my hospital stay. Thank you, my friend.
(P.S.- And now that I'm fit and fine, you can stop talking so much. (just joking!))

ANJULA-the baby in our group of four at work, who sits just next to my work station. She's more like a younger sister than a colleague or a friend. She kept abreast with the latest progress happening with my recovery and what the doctors have said, even while attending office, meeting her daily targets while also dealing with the various formalities she needed to cater to before getting into Jet Airways as an airhostess. She juggled through everything quite efficiently and visited me often, especially during the weekends. She's now in Mumbai going through her training for the airlines. But the help she offered to me while I was in the hospital will always be in my heart and mind. Thank you, little one.
(P.S.-I missed you all the same while I was in the hospital and more than ever, now... when you are not there sitting next to me at work, reminding me constantly to do my work while I am busy on the orkut or blogging during my work hours.)

GAURAV-The hunk of my friends from office.... good-looking, well-behaved and fiercely protective about me and Anjula. But he is a little immature, moody and short-tempered. Doesn't speak much and is shit-scared of my temper. On a Monday evening, knowing they would be visiting me the next day, I asked him if he can get me a print-out of the 'Hanuman-Chalisa' from work (I try to chant the 'hanuman chalisa' every tuesday evening, but do not know it by heart yet). He said he could. Later he must have realised that he had taken out the print-out in 'hindi' which I don't know to read fluently. But by that time he must've already reached home around mid-night and the cyber-cafes might have closed. So, he called up all possible people at odd hours of the night and the morning before they were to reach the hospital asking if anybody had access to the internet and a printer at their vicinity. I don't know how or from where he got it, but he produced a printout of the required Hanuman Chalisa for me (yes, in English) when they visited me the next morning before leaving for work. When Anjula narrated the whole story behind 'the print-out' I felt extremely guilty. But that's just Gaurav. 'Thanks' seems to be a very little word for whatever you have done for me, buddy.
(P.S.-After I was released from the hospital and joinned work, I was advised to have home-food for sometime. Gaurav's mom made it a point to send delicious home-made food for all of us (especially because she knows I stay alone and might not manage to cook proper meals during the week-days). Thanks to aunty too. What does one do to deserve such a royal treatment?!)

SAFAL-The cool-dude, Anjula's guy. He is level-headed and really defines the word 'kewl'. I have never seen him lose his temper and no matter what we say or do or to whatever extent he is provoked, he is always smiling. He can just let go off things till they cool down and the situation gets under control. He's our group's pacifier in our small tiffs and manages to make everyone laugh even under the most difficult of situations. But God save you if he has downed 2 bottles of beer. He will go on talking about anything and everything under the sun (or the moon) till we go off to sleep. Anjula & Gaurav used to drag him along with them when they came to visit me. My wildest guess says Safal would have generally just woken up, put on his clothes and shoes, brushed his teeth and come along, 'cause whenever he came to visit me, he was either eating at the hospital cafeteria downstairs or smoking or watching cricket matches (with Gaurav) at the hospital lounge, before coming upto my room to show his face, giving Anjula and me enough time to catch up with our 'girlie-talks' if there was any.

SHELTON-my friend from Goa who had stopped by in Delhi for his visa work, while on his way to New York City for a concert, with high hopes of me showing him around Delhi while he was around, was really upset with the whole thing. And he did drop in to see me in the hospital. He had also managed to smuggle in some local Goan pork sausages (my favourite) into my room and handed the parcel to me only after strictly warning me to eat them after I recover fully. He is another PJ-r(poor-joke-r) who has a tremendous stock of never ending PJs. And he used them to the full on me while he was around.
P.S.-That was really sweet, Shelton. I promise I'll show you around the next time you are in Delhi, provided I am not in the hospital. And hey, you can parcel me the port-wine bottles from Goa very soon as I have recovered now.)

And then there was GEETA and NIDHI from the office who visited me in the hospital. Though they are not close friends, I really appreciate their taking out time to come and visit. And CHOW (the kiddo) who called me up often, promising to turn up in a couple of days (but never did). His calls were very refreshing in themselves, though, full of vibrance and positive energies, urging me to get well soon. Of course, SUMIT VIRDI and SUMIT CHUG called up too with 'get-well-soon' wishes mainly because (you guessed it!) Jeena bullying them into it, but they did.

So, after my never-ending 8-10 days stay in the hospital I was finally released to go home and advised bed-rest for atleast 2-weeks till I recovered. So I went back home to the comforts of my ma & dad's pampering and care and stayed back for about a week before returning to Delhi to join work. NANDINI my friend in Guwahati came to visit me while I was there and it was nice to see her glowing with pregnancy.

Now I am fit and fine and back to work, but this long gap in between has made me a lazy bum and I still haven't been able to restore back my interest at work. Needed a break, got a break (minus the pain and suffering that came with the illness) !

THE LOST CHARM

2007-10-11T02:40:00.000-07:00

What is it about committed men that I can never bring myself to be attracted to them? Doesn't matter if he's the best looking man on earth. Doesn't matter if he is George Clooney. It is something about the 'attached' factor which takes away all the charm off men. And it is supposed to be that way too. Attached men are supposed to be with their partners, not woo-ing other single women to get attracted to them. But the only problem here is that all the 'good-looking men' are either always 'taken' or gay.

I was very happy being in love with George Clooney with his pics in my wallet in that special place reserved for a 'someone special'. Reading his interviews where he'd comment that he is NOT attached and doesn't plan to marry...ever, I'd beam with joy. Just the perfect man for me. And he's good-looking too, just in case you didn't notice. But a couple of weeks back my heart shattered with the accident he was caught in, not because he was suffering from a broken rib and some scrapes, but because he was with a girlfriend Sarah Larson, who was also injured. Hey wait a minute, did I just say 'a girlfriend'? Now where on earth did she come from? And barely did they recover from their injuries when the Clooney guy declared of a prospective engagement with Sarah. So much for my luck! Now I'm no longer attracted to him anymore. I don't have anything left for Georgey boy. No love, no lust. The 'committed' factor, remember?

The story of my life. Sigh!

YET ANOTHER MR. WRONG

2007-10-05T05:10:00.000-07:00

I noticed him sometime back.
He noticed me long before that.
I liked what I saw.
He could read my mind.
I wished he would talk to me.
He came and talked to me.
I thought he liked me.
He knew I liked him.
I fell in love with his behaviour and the attention he showered.
He wooed and followed me around like a puppy love.
I never hid anything.
He had secrets and issues.
I'm clean.
He's often stoned.
I became a little unsure.
He became defensive.
I began to expect.
He began to detach.
I was on.
He was on and off.
I fell ill.
He stopped communicating for a while.
I prayed to God he comes back to me.
He came back to me.
But now I'm disillusioned.
He's just one of the numerous other MR. WRONGs I've bumped across...

NY RESOLUTION STATUS

2007-09-11T07:28:00.000-07:00

I must admit, I have broken one of my New Year resolutions and have not been able to keep up with many of them. I was going through some very blue moments of late and started smoking from the 15th of August (incidently, on the independence day I succumbed to the 'butt' again). I smoked the whole day that day till my throat was sore and burning and tears ran down my cheeks with the smoke, mixed with my inner grief. I thought it was okay to take a break for 1 day and smoke... but it led to me smoking the next day again. The 3rd day my friend at work warned me about me getting trapped into it again. I convinced her and myself that I'd smoke for the whole week and then stop. The week elongated to become 2 weeks, precisely 16 days. So I smoked as much as I could till the month-end and then finally quit for good on the 31st of August. But I am not happy about it myself. I don't know why I couldn't be strong enough to not have done as I did. Perhaps there was a lack of reason or maybe that itself was a reason. Just for my health did not seem reason enough for me to have not smoked.

Sometimes I wonder why my senses go for a walk. Why I stop thinking rationally. Why I feel so snappy. Why I just want to let go of everything or everyone who matters to me so much. Why I have no zeal left for the ever new and happening thing called LIFE. I feel I have stopped 'living' for sometime now. I am just breathing, so I am 'existing'. Perhaps its a hint I should take seriously about a short break again....soon. The sun and the sea beckons...

The SALT-N-PEPPER appeal

2007-08-07T05:08:00.000-07:00

I still drool over Richard Gere's poster in his 'salt-n-pepper' do from AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN... the military hunk with the face of a 14-year old and the hair of a 50-year old. This fantasy often embarrasses as well as makes me smile. And quite honestly, I was more than surprised when Shilpa Shetty pretended she had no clue of what was coming when Richard swung her not very long ago, into a clinch which is the stuff female fantasies are made of.

I had always had a strong liking for men with 'distinguished' hair. Most men don't get it, but the 'salt-n-pepper' on guys drives a lot of women wild. Well, call it the 'salt-and-pepper' or the newfound 'gravitas', but losing color doesn't make you an old man... if you don't wear it like Phil Donahue, that is. And if you'd keep it short, please. Thank you!

Most men refuse to admit they're 'gray'. 'Salt-and-pepper' is about all they'll cop to. Of course, they may be just about out of pepper, is another matter. But we all cling to delusions, don't we? Some men may not like the way their gra... I mean, salt-and-pepper looks, and with the Grecian Formula in vogue, they want to go in for a jet-black shade than a cool gray. But if you ask me, they should not colour their hair for a lark, 'coz very soon, they'd have to do it as a monthly chore. And isn't there something sad about habitually locking oneself in the bathroom and doling out dye into your aching hands, adjusting the mirror or your head angles (or both) like some aging junkie? Or worse still, roam around the house with a head-full of mehndi-paste for hours?

Today, in just about any line of work being 'prematurely gray' is an advantage. In fact, in any business, gray equals gravitas. And then again, there are millions of follicle-fetishists out there, and at the first hint of tint they find you and ogle your albino tresses like a hot pair of buns....( the same way I check out and secretly drool over men with short 'salt-n-pepper' hair). This is because, gray hair on a guy says he's mature, stable and sexy, but at the same time he can be relied on.
Think Big B as 'Sexy Sam'... he's swarmed with all those hot babes. Think Tom Cruise in 'the Collateral'.. He might have been the bad guy, but if you talk about his looks, ah! simply irresistible. Think Sean Penn. His fan base doesn't seem to mind his salt-n-pepper one bit. Think George Clooney in Ocean's Thirteen. He seems to be getting more and more drool-able with every passing year... I can't help falling in love with him over and over again..

My advice to all those guys with 'distinguished' hair? Give in to the salt-n-pepper look and make the most of it while you're still young. Better to be 'happily gray' than to be a 'serial dyer'. Remember, there will come a time in the not too distant future when you'd no longer be 'prematurely' gray. People will stop using the word 'distinguished'. By then, you'll have a paunch, a wattle, baggy eyes and sagging skin, and pretty young things won't even take notice of your hair. Only other guys will... the bald ones...

So, if you still think you cannot carry off the 'salt-n-pepper' on your crown, because your name is not George Clooney, just give it a second thought. Trust me, it looks damn hot....

RESOLUTIONS 007

2007-01-08T03:06:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone and hello 2007. I hope you all had a grand celebration to welcome the New Year. But unfortunately, I was bed-ridden with severe stomach infection and a sun-stroke. Not a very pleasant way to start the New Year, I'd say. But then life goes on. And inspite of all the viruses, bad weather, a poor appraisal at work and nothing so exciting to look forward to, I still hope its a good year ahead. Its been quite a few years now that I hadn't made any New Year resolutions because I used to forget and break all my promises after a couple of months. But this year I believe it'll be different and I hope to have more control over myself. I've kept these 7 resolutions. Wish you all a very happy and prosperous 2007.

#001: Will never kiss the butt again...I said goodbye to ciggies.
#002:Will try to make my life more organic... more fruits, veggies, herbal-teas, juices...will curb on booze and meat.
#003:Will try to get onto the other side of the lenses...after modelling, now I want to get behind the camera and capture all things of beauty through my lenses.
#004:Will travel more...but off the beaten tracks...I'll try to cover more exotic destinations within the country.
#005:Will indulge more...and get myself gadgets to ease my work...a microwave oven, an ipod, a digicam and a laptop are on the priority list in that order.
#006:Will paint my life RED...and BLUE and GREEN and YELLOW and ORANGE...I'll paint so much that I can put up an exhibition by Diwali.
#007:Will talk to God more often...does not mean I'll be worshipping all the time, but I'll be super regular with my daily prayers.

And U R TAGGED. Post in your NY resolutions and lets see if we can all keep them till the end of the year.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN SANTA CLAUS?

2006-12-22T03:15:00.000-08:00

Though Christmas is NOT one of the main festivals that I celebrate according to my religion, yet for being in a catholic school I was made to understand that Christmas represents gifts from Santa Claus who comes down our chimneys at midnight of Christmas eve with promises of rewards, and this used to ensure a good behavior from all us kids round the year. But today when I've grown up, I wonder how many other grown ups still believe there is really a Santa Claus? Well, Santa Claus is not merely a wishful thinking for me, but he exists… as certainly as love, generosity and devotion exist. Alas! How dreary it would be if there was no Santa Claus?! Without 'him' there would be no child-like faith, no poetry, no presents and no romance to even make tolerable this season of warmth, love and merriment.

Some of us grown-ups might ask, “Do we need that old fat man with the big white beard to celebrate Christmas?” And there are those who would say we do not need an icon whose most popular depiction arises out of the early color-coding principles of a soft drink manufacturer (for the red and white that we associate with Santa, were designed by the Coca Cola Company in an attempt to link Christmas with the drinking of their flagship product). There are those again who would argue that gift-giving has become an arena of conflict in which families struggling to maintain a decent economic foothold in a cut-throat world are put to the test by the manipulative strategies of advertising & marketing gimmicks. Perhaps it’s time for such grown-ups to re-look at Santa Claus and re-contextualize why we do really need him…
…because we need to give. Our genes may be selfish, our basic and more primal instincts may be aimed at ensuring the survival of our own self and our genetically linked family, but there’s much to be said for giving too. And we are not talking about gifts alone here... we’re talking about giving of our time and effort and of helping others. Let us try to redefine Santa Claus as the spirit of giving and we would see why we need him more than ever.

Our world is one of closed spaces and closed minds. It is one that allows the individual very little control over the way things are. This works in the area of personal relationships too. The more we give, the more connected we become, the better our emotional health and the emotional temperament of the relationship becomes. And it really holds true that whatever we give, comes around. But we should not equate this 'giving' with ‘the parcel with the red-ribbon’ and the little card with a quickie message… because if we agree that Santa is a human necessity, that he is only an embodiment of the spirit of putting others before one-self, that he is a convenient and time-honored icon to represent all that is generous and giving in human nature, WE HAVE TO BE SANTA ourselves.

Yes, Santa still lives. Commerce won’t let the fat man in the funny red suit with white fur trimmings and the three-pillow-paunch, who is a mere 1700 years old, die because he’s too valuable a property. And his this act of giving without asking for anything in return repeated again and again, year after year, spreads joy and happiness all over, making everyone jolly and happy too.

Merry Christmas to all and also to the man who says HO! HO!! HO!!!

MA...

2006-11-29T08:49:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time she was a bubbly pampered sister of three elder brothers, who loved handiwork, going to movies, dressing up, painting, playing pranks and her cats. And then she got married to become a wife at 18. Then one day she had ME and became a mother at 20. A few years later, she eventually had my two younger sisters and added to the list of things she previously was. She became a cook, a dresser, a wiper of our dirty faces, a cleaner of our soiled diapers, a nurse when we were ill, a retriever of thrown socks and uniforms, a finder of our lost shoes, a doer of our homework we couldn’t complete, an insomniac. She was a referee in our toy-wars, a slayer of dragons in our nightmares, the face of angels in all those fairy-tale bed-time stories that she’d read out to us every night before tucking us in bed to sleep. She was the expert innovative chef who had to come up with 1001 tiffin-recipes which could not be repeated very often, a duty-bound guard who would walk us to school and bring us back home, holding the umbrellas to protect us from the sun or the rains and sometimes even carry one of my sisters who would get tired walking. She was a soother of nervous school jitters, a coach to prepare us for our tests and exams, a strict (hate-able) character when we scored poor marks, an adorable rewarder when we passed with flying colors and a sporty leader of girl-scouts.

With each passing day, her talents grew: she became a baker of delicious cakes and cookies, a hygienic competitor of the dirty roadside chaat-wala, an ice-cream vendor who distributed popsicles and ‘milkmaid-kulfis’ not only to us but to all our neighborhood playmates absolutely free-of-cost. She learnt to sew prize-winning costumes for our fancy-dress competitions, compose the best school essays which would score us maximum marks in the whole class, come up with the best ideas for our science exhibition projects and embroider the most beautiful motifs for our hand-work assignments. She would be my transporter, guide and motivator for all those numerous art-competitions that I participated in as a child.

Her body, once which was her own to do with it as she pleased, now belonged to us—she ate for ‘us’ when she was carrying us in her womb, her breasts were the only source of food or life we recognized as infants, her shoulders were used by us to cry upon, her arms to be hugged by whenever we needed her warmth and security, and her lap for us to sit and cuddle upon. Her lips became the kissers and soothers for all our unstoppable boo-hoos and tears, her hips were the carrier of our small, squirmy bundles and her hands our cradle.
She could braid or tie-up our hair in the time most people could only manage to wash their faces. She could bathe, dress, feed and get all the three of us ready for school in half-an-hour flat. And she could smile for us even when she didn’t actually feel like. Her feet were used to walk the house with us in her arms at any hour of the night, if either one of us had a difficult time sleeping due to illness or nightmares. And as we were growing up, she even grew eyes in the back of her head and her hearing became supersonic--lest we should fall into wrong things or wrong people at a wrong age.

Her parents had named her ‘Mina’. Then as she became a mother she had as many aliases as a conman. She became—at various times—Mm, Ma, Ma-ma, Mom, Mommy, Mummy, Mum, Mina-ma (I used to call her that, as if to distinguish her as the special one of the various other moms in the neighborhood, she recalls) and for a brief period of her mental vexation, ‘Mins’ (when we called her that teasingly).

Her free time which might have once been occupied to do things of her interest, were now used to tidy the disorderly jumble of our toys, books, empty chips packets, used plates, empty cans of cold-drinks, a carpet of clutter and chaos and a dwelling of disarray.

Her mind which might have once flourished with egocentric thoughts, were sometimes filled with irrational ideations: “What if they fall out of the bed while I’m in the kitchen?” “What if they choke on their food?” “How safe would they be to get back home after dark from their friends’ birthday party?” “What if they choose the wrong guys as their boyfriends or to get married to?” “Did I say anything to hurt my darlings?” “Am I a good mother?” “How will I know if I’m falling short of anything in bringing them up?” etc… These were some of her insecurities I would overhear her sharing with Dad, once in a while when he was home (my dad had to travel a lot due to the nature of his job and he was hardly home till we grew up).

But for us three sisters, my Ma has been and always will be our ideal icon… even more important and loveable than God himself, coz she’d done something nobody else had ever done for us… accomplished a feat so death-defying and magical that many wouldn’t even attempt doing. She’s the one and only form, face, smell and name of pure and unselfish love I’d ever known. She’s my Ma….

A FEW PASSING THOUGHTS....

2006-11-24T08:56:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder... how to define a few terms...like 'love'...'happiness'...
how to define a 'color'..... Bottle Green.....Virgin White...
to define an ice-cube finding its way down your back
or how to define a 'heavy heart'....

Can we put everything within the constraints of 26 letters ?
What about the word 'ma'?
There are things in life that escape 'definition'.
Life itself, for instance...

How do we define bitter... tangy... sour...
How to define a mistake... wrong... right...
Ever wonder how it changes with every experience??
For that matter, how do we define 'experience'?

Is a 'kiss' the mere brush of lips?
How long should it last? And how long does it actually last??
Is a 'smile' the mere upturn of the corners of the lips?
Does a sunset actually end when the sun sets?
Does 'pregnancy' last only for 9 months?
How long should our birthdays be?

How much would you pay to adopt a child if you can’t have one of your own?
How much would you pay to be a child again?
How much would you pay to get back your native home which is still under dispute?
What about that '80s studio picture of dad, ma and you?
Do you have a clear conscience?
How much would you pay to have one?
...and how much would you sell ‘that’ conscience for?

Does a 3day 2night vacation last for only 3days and 2nights?
Does a 'kodak moment' last for only 1/500th of a second?
Is 'Love Story' only a 2-hour story book?

How much time is too much time?
Sometimes, a half-hour bubble-bath can seem like an entire evening...
a 3-hour happy dream like a whole year....
a warm hug like a lifetime...
The first morning cuppa tea...perfect bliss...

Does life's most precious moments come with bar-codes?
Or fluctuate on a daily basis??

It might be the red balloon for your child priced at Rs 10,
a wedding cake for your best friend priced at Rs 10,000,
Or a 2-carat solitaire ring priced at Rs 5,00,000...
but considering it's on your left ring-finger, how much would you sell it for ?

MY LI'L SIS

2006-11-13T01:34:00.000-08:00

Whether we shared this 'special connection' through genetics or the heart, only my sister and nobody else can understand the complex, deep and dynamic relationship that we both shared with each other as we journeyed together through the various stages of our lives.

The first time when I remember visiting the hospital to see my newly born sister, I pestered my dad to buy me some clips, ribbons and 'kajal' for her. I remember being quite dissapointed on seeing her so small and the thought of waiting for her to grow up to be able to play with me. My younger sister would usually look upto me when we were very young and growing up, following my every step and every act. She was my little doll, my playmate and my baby, who I used to make sit on my lap while I rode my tri-cycle all around the house. Sometimes I used to drop her down from my lap while overspeeding and then get very scared when she cried turning crimson and blue. As she was three years younger to me, she was just around a year old when I started going to school and I remember my parents buying her a same school-bag, crayons, pencil-box, tiffin-box and a water-bottle, as mine. When I used to do my homework, she would sit by me scribbling some weird nothings onto the blank pages of her notebook, pretending to be doing her homework as well and she picked up all my nursery-rhymes and multiple-tables by heart, long before she even went to school. While I used to tolerate her tagging along after my footsteps, I remember getting very annoyed when she used to wear the same clothes as me when we got ready to go out. (I don't know why, but my parents always got us both similar dresses with a little change in the colours sometimes). Now when I think of it, I imagine we might have looked very cute actually in the same kind of clothes, but that time it was utmostly annoying to see that tiny exact replica of mine in the same get-up and all. I was the shy, dumb one and she was smarter and naughtier. Whenever we used to get chocolates from our parents or guests or relatives, I used to save mine in the refrigerator to take it to school the next day, while she used to devour hers immediately and finish mine as well without my knowledge, leaving the cover intact in the fridge. Sometimes she would beat me up when we fought and fearing of the punishment that she would have to face, before I could react, she would start crying and the scenerio got portrayed reversely infront of the parents.

But I used to be overtly protective about her and kept a strict eye over her at school and anywhere else around the neighbourhood. I would usually help her face the schoolyard bully, do her homework and meet up with her teachers for any mischief or prank she would play at school. I would help her show the neighbourhood boys that girls can wrestle or ride the bicycle as well as any boy can. She helped me learn how to ride the bicycle holding it from behind and running along with me as I learnt to paddle and balance and I helped her recover the cycle when she hit an old lady on the street and ran back home scared, leaving the cycle there. When we were very little, ma used to walk us to school and fetch us back, but as we grew up, we both used to go and come back from school together. We would make greeting cards secretly during our study-time and sell them to our friends at school for pocket money to buy those dirty road-side chaat or ice-candies near our school, which we were not allowed. Of-course these intimate little secrets of ours were never revealed to anyone, not even to our parents... This, and our walks to the neighbourhood veterinary-centre every weekend to buy eggs, bonded us together and we got our first lessons in dealing with money, shop-keepers, purchase, profits and losses.

There were times when we both had our childhood crushes on the same 'heroes' and as we grew up, I provided 'wise counsel' during her first real crush and a subsequent comfort after a so called 'break-up'. We used to share everything.... from our first love-letters to the day-to-day happenings of our school days, year after year and the time I first joinned college, she had a fair idea of what college life was all about with all its intricate details. I tried to provide the best tips when she applied her first make-up and played an expert consultant for her first sports-bra. Now maybe I'll be playing the main designer for her wedding trousseaus. She on the other hand, is the expert counsellor I would turn to whenever I needed an opinion more sane, matured and wiser than my own. And we would both give-and-take, go hand-in-hand and see each other through in most of our growing up period.

Of-course the picture was not always rosy and there were fights... those dreadfully bitter cat-and-dog fights we had in the middle of the night over the switching 'on' or 'off' of the light, or over whose turn it was to make the bed, or over who had worn whose clothes how many times.. These fights sometimes got so bad that our parents had to wake up and intervene in the middle of the night or they would get so worse that we would not talk to each other for days. We would fight for so many silly things that I can't even imagine now why we did. But when you share the same room, the same bed, the same study-table, the same bathroom and so many other things, how long can you not speak to each other? Then we used to patch up and start talking as long-lost friends, only to pick up yet another fight for some other silly reason. But no matter how much we fought or said hateable things to each other, we would stand by each other and do everything in our possibilities to protect each other from any external person or a difficult situation. We would see each other through our good-days, not-so-good-days and those bad-hair-days.

With time, we separated and started living in different places far away from each other due to our educational and career requirements. But we still keep abreast of the latest everyday happenings in each of our lives through calls, texts and visits. While we may not live under the same roof any more, act in the same manner or even get along without an occasional spat when I go home for a vacation, but I also can't think of nothing else which creates a more wild, wacky, poignant, special and lasting bond than our sisterhood.

Yes, she is my little sister who is all grown up now... my friend, my confidante and the life-saviour who helped me buoy through some of the toughest times of my life....

CODENAME : JEANS 13

2006-11-03T01:26:00.000-08:00

I had met her some five years back in my previous organisation through a common friend and we clicked from the moment we had met. She too was from my native place and her birthday was just a couple of days before mine. Being of the same age and star-sign, we had lots of things common in our natures and in our likes and dislikes. And we used to hang around together most of the times, especially to all our nocturnal parties after work, our three common guy-friends in tow.

She was just like me--impulsive, headstrong and very bluntly to the point. She feeded my number on her mobile as 'MY ASSAMESE FRIEND' and I feeded hers as 'JEANS 13', though I strongly believe now that feeding her name as 'XENA-The Warrior Princess' would have been more appropriate, her real name being JEENA.

She's a totally BINDAAS person and literally a human-rash of a friend to me, who wants to keep abreast of every latest thing happening in my life. She would need every painstaking detail about every single one of my boyfriends or dates--where we went, what we ate, what we talked about, how many times he blinked, EVERYTHING! (But I don't mind it, because it's sometimes nice to share these kind of stuff with your close friends and have them involved in your life's happenings.) After I'm done choking out every grudging detail, she'll proceed to tell me what I said right, what I did wrong, what she thought I should have done and what I must absolutely do the next time. Most of the times there would be grains of truth and genuine concern in what she says. But sometimes when I'm not feeling my polite self, I would go, "Sod off B**CH, Puhleeez. That's a load of crap" and hang up. Of course she is more likely to return me the favour twice as much at every possible opportunity after that. Very seldom but there are times when she asks for my advice but more often than not, she would tell me the gory details of her ventures. But if I don't completely agree with what she's saying or tell her like I truely feel like it is, she would absolutely lose her cool and she'll go on a rant about how wrong I am and that I don't know anything and that I'm always trying to take someone else's side. She sometimes even goes to the extent of accusing me of being judgemental or being jealous of her. But most of the times I take it in a good spirit.

Incidentally, such an incident happened just a few months back before our birthdays. She was very annoyed at a certain situation, and when I tried to show her the picture as it seemed to me, she could not take it and slammed the phone down on me. Next morning she sms-ed but somehow things got very ugly and obviously, I couldn't stop myself from adding some of my own venom. We had a bitter cat-fight through sms-s as I was about to sit for an examination and we ended up showing each other our bitchi-est sides. My relationship with her suddenly seemed to be a real chore if I had to mind what I am saying to her, all because of her fragile ego and her incredible self-absorbance and annoying sensitivity. So we stopped talking to each other. We did not even call each other up on our birthdays, we were both so mad at each other then. Her birthday comes first, so I wished her through an e-card. She did exactly the same thing. This got me more annoyed because she did not even come up with anything original. She was still copying my act. Then nobody said anything and we both went to a deep freezing zone.

This Diwali, she made the first move. By then, I was missing her-- being with her and sharing our spicy life-stories, and I tried to figure out why we had gone to such a bitter extent with such a simple difference of opinion. On the eve of Diwali however, she wished me through an sms to which I replied back on a light note which I'm sure must have brought a smile on her face (or atleast that was what I intended). I sms-ed trying to initiate conversations and how to broach the topic and also prepared myself for a brush-off. But with re-inforced positive feelings that I still had about our friendship, she must have found it difficult to resist my overtures. Neither of us apologised or said sorry till we met last weekend, but I did encourage her to mouth the string of her favourite abuses to me when we first spoke over the phone and returned the favour with pleasure.

Thus, the good cheer thawed the differences that had cropped up between the two of us, and it seemed like the festive time was the best time to get my buddy back in my life again...

AN UNFINISHED LOVE-STORY...

2006-10-30T06:38:00.000-08:00

Living in the city where she lived, far away from home was a way to get away from the pressure of a forced marriage. She had always dreamt that if she were to get married ever, it would always be for love and not for security. She had always dreamt of her knight in shining armour who would sweep her off her feet and the wimps who proposed to her didn’t hold a candle to the image of her Prince Charming. However, life had other plans in store and had been cruel to her again and again. And she was under the impression that her Prince Charming would always remain a dream. She thought she would never find even the least interesting person in the place where she actually did, coz life is truly unpredictable. She realised that her Prince Charming truly did exist in flesh and blood but were never to be hers for keeps.

She still remembered the day when she first set her eyes on him. It had been almost two years after she had broken off with her ex, when she had seen him first. He was quite tall, a thing she found a must in guys. And he was with one of the other guys she knew. From that second onwards life became very interesting for her. Days passed where she would just wait for one glimpse of him or an action from his end, just an acknowledgement that she existed. However, it never came. He hardly took any notice of her. She had become used to the ignorance since by then, all the interesting guys being 'already taken' was a part of life for her. She would see him talk to many other girls, but never to her. She was totally bewildered. What is it in her that a person (read 'he') does not even like the sight of? Then one fine day, he suddenly vanished.

Days went by and turned into months, maybe even years and she became used to the idea that 'he' was another dream which was never meant to be. And then one fine day, just like he had vanished, he returned again to the same ground. It was like a revival of an old forgotten dream... a deja-vu. And they stared talking to each other. On one hand it was great getting this guy for full view all the time, but that he didn’t like her or showed any interest, was another matter. Even during their interactive sessions, they hardly talked about anything except for general topics of life.. all they would ever talk about was the strange philosophies of life, while all the other women had no hassles expressing their likeness for him. He would tell her about his past relationships or about some other woman who he liked, who she knew wasn't even worth him. She couldn’t express her feelings, maybe because she was old fashioned and believed that the man should be the one to come forward or do the chasing, instead of the woman doing the same. She didn't know how she managed to listen to all that gory details of his past relationships or his new-found interests without breaking down, coz she realised then that she had competition and he would never be hers. Most of the time she would be on the verge of crying. Here she had met her dream guy and he could not even see how much she loved him and wanted him. She was constantly crying to god why this had happened... why she had fallen for the 'wrong guy' AGAIN. But she never did keep her hopes high for fear of getting dashed.

One day, late in the night, she received a call from him and for the first time they were actually talking more like friends. She was not her usual self yapping constantly about topics she would never remember later as she had downed a couple of drinks that evening. All she could remember was his voice... a voice to die for, deep and authoritative, asking her if she wanted to take a drive in the middle of the night. She agreed, but the drive never happened. Instead they decided to have some wine, sitting in her balcony, talking about relationships late into the night. She felt God had answered her prayers. There was no looking back after that. He asked her to sit on his lap and she asked him to pinch her so as to make her feel it was happening for real and she wasn't dreaming. Suddenly the need for words were gone... Her Knight in Shining Armour lifted her petite body in his strong arms and loved her in the most passionate way... like a caveman... raw, wild and unsatiable... She had never experienced such joy before. But there were no words of love... no promises... no committments and no future plans... And then he left.

After he left, she broke down unconsolably. She felt used. She felt her emotions were (mis)taken for sexual attraction and that was what was given to her. She couldn’t express her emotions to anyone. She never discussed her feelings. And she felt he was drawn further away from her after then....

HAPPY DIWALI everyone!!

2006-10-20T04:50:00.000-07:00

A wish to all, that the bright lights of DIWALI abound every moment of your lives with HAPPINESS, JOY, WARMTH, PEACE, LOVE and WELLBEING. HAPPY DIWALI!!

A very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my BEST-est Friend !!

2006-10-20T03:50:00.000-07:00

I had heard of HER much before I had actually seen or met her, and when I saw her for the first time, SHE exactly fitted into the picture I had of her in my mind. She was one of the 'three musketeers' of the PATHFINDER process of our organisation in the pilot phase when it had just come in, way back in February 2003. Monica-the girl with the most voluptious figure that I've had ever seen, was the proud owner of a scooty and she was more than happy to accomodate Radha-the cute, tiny one and 'OUR GIRL'-the tall, slender one with a beautiful oriental face, and nice straight long hair. SHE was one of the most elegant girls in the whole process.

WE had never interacted so much with each other till about the first six months or more of my being in the organisation, as 'we' were both in different teams and had never been formally introduced to each other. But we did exchange 'hello's and smiles when sometimes my ex-BF (who used to work in the same organisation) talked to her for a super-short duration during our tea-breaks or dinner-breaks. They had both joinned the organisation at almost the same time and I had joinned in a batch later. During those short-stop hellos, one thing that I always noticed about THIS GIRL was her bright, genuine smile that came in straight from her heart, lighting up her face, shining right through her 'spectacled' small twinkling eyes.... a smile that was so contagious, it could lift up any damned soul... and I often wondered if she ever had any problems in her life, or for that matter, if she ever took life seriously at all. I would imagine that she might have been the only child of very rich parents, never having to think twice about anything she wanted in life. Otherwise, how else can anyone be so happy all the time?! Sometimes, when I'd be brooding, complaining, sulking or engaged in an argument with my BF in the office and she happened to pass by us, he would ask me teasingly why I could not be like HER... so simple, ever smiling, no complaints or worries in life whatsoever! to which I would think, believe and curtly reply, "Maybe she doesn't have a boyfriend... like you!"

Time passed by and after about six-months in 'Pathfinder', I was put into a new process- WTS SELECT in the pilot batch, with another 20 odd colleagues, all thrown in from different teams of PF. And after a few more weeks, some more people came in to join us in WTS, 'our girl' included. Those days, I never used to interact much with any of my colleagues in the new process, as we had all come in from different teams and did not know each other much. I preferred to stick around with the BF in all my breaks. But slowly with time, I started bonding well with two girls in the team (Priya and Kalpana) and 'she' too developed a strong friendship with one of the other girls (Divya), who had been her batchmate from their initial days in Pathfinder.With some more time, we had a change of team-leaders, seating arrangements and our friends too. The BF changed his job and left the organisation, shifting base to another city. Both of my two fast-friends got married one after the other and seemed to bond better sans me, with their 'post-marriage' conversations. HER friend too got married and left the country. And destiny made 'both of us' sit next to each other at adjacent work-stations and have our lunch and dinner breaks together. In day to day casual conversations between our work, we discovered our common interests in books, fashion, cosmetics and some other philosohies in life and slowly we started taking all our breaks together at office. We even started meeting up on weekends for shopping and then started staying back at each other's places overnight, depending on which markets we were covering that weekend. I don't exactly remember when or how, but we 'clicked'. And from that time onwards, started a journey of our friendship that was never to end... and we became almost inseperable.

Beneath her ever-smiling face, I discovered her serious side. She was not at all the frivolous girl that I had imagined her to be. Although she was a few months younger to me in age, she was wiser and more matured. I would often turn to her for advice as I had full trust in all her decisions. I realised that she too have had her share of difficulties in life, that too at a very tender age, which had helped her be the person that she is today. Unlike her looks, she was very strong from within, and she was the ONE PERSON who stood by me in the darkest period of my life, helping me nurse a broken heart and recover faster than I would have otherwise had. She was the one person who you could trust to be at her coolest even at the most crucial of situations, and I grew habituated to her calming me down with her wise soothing words whenever I was stuck up in any kind of mess. She would tell me how she had once been of an impulsive headstrong nature and would react to situations just like ME (I was infamous for my hot-headedness). But with time and experience, she had learnt to deal with situations better in a calmer manner without losing her head over it. THIS GIRL with the wisdom of the sages also had the simplicity, straightforwardness and innocence of a child. She had the dreams of a little girl, no different than those of yours or mine. She loved to be pampered and spoilt and could be quite a brat at times. But you could never hate her for that. Infact, you could never hate her for anything at all. She is wise, smart, tactful, honest, polite and innocent all at the same time and can easily get away calling a spade A SPADE, sealed with her sweetest smile.

Somewhere down the line, we discovered that my mother-tongue (assamese) and her native-dialect (nagamese) were quite similar to each other. So, we would often communicate in either assamese or nagamese, especially in cases when we would want to close in from the rest of the world. I remember the many occasions when she would show her freakier side... We would sit at the 'smoking-zone' of our office building for hours, ME being the active-smoker and SHE being the passive one... scrutinising, commenting and forming an opinion on every passing being, thereby. We would gossip, bitch, discuss and practically 'live' in the smoking-zone area, especially on those sunny winter afternoons, as there was not much work in the process, leaving us with ample idle time. But once in a while, SHE would really get annoyed about every smoker's cigarette-smoke passing in right through her sparkling-clean fragrant hair, making it smell of cigarettes, which she would happily forget in even less than a minute's time, if you knew how to indulge her in one of her favourite topics of conversation... it was just THAT SIMPLE. (...and no prizes for guessing WHO had developed the expertise in that kind of creative conversations). We would 'share' both our lunches and dinners at the office cafeteria, shelling out only ONE single coupon for each meal between the two of us. This 'sharing of meals' is NOT ALLOWED, but we would still do it on the sly, justifying the case for the little amount of food we would both eat combined. It was too rib-tickling funny to watch her bargain with a sarojini-nagar-market (one of our favourite street-shopping-haunts) shop-hawker or with an auto-rickshaw driver. She has an even crazier hold in HINDI, much worse than that of mine, and I am actually better off to recognise and correct the mistakes in her hindi-grammar and accent. Another thing which made her absolutely lose her cool was when her credit-card-company people called her up, addressing her with a MR. before her name. If present at the scene, you could actually see those flames and fumes coming out of her red-ears and that little shiny nose. She always dressed on her own terms, as she did everything else. Once, we were asked to follow a tri-color ethnic dress-code theme to the work-place on some special-occasion day. Any guesses what she might have turned up in? What else than her 'maroon' codroy-pants and an equally contrast shirt?! But one thing about her dressing is that no matter what she wore, she could carry it off with an absolute grace, being the hard-core libran that she is...

She is the ONE GIRL I know, who is utterly stylish and has a great sense of fashion... and nothing fascinates her more than shopping, and reading fashion magazines... and/or the combination of both. She can actually go on shopping till she zeros her bank balance and then start on with her credit-cards one after the other or finally drops down dead out of tiredness. Before that, she wouldn't just stop. On so many instances of our shopping together, I literally have had to drag her away from buying something horrendously expensive which I knew she wouldn't even bother wearing once, after it reaches home. There were so many times when we would go shopping and come back dead-tired, only to glug down bottles of chilled-beer and just talk silly, covering everything from job-dissatisfaction, work-politics, ex-bfs, failed relationships, future plans, more shopping plans and everything else under the sun... oops! under the moon, actually... We would not know when in the midst of those senseless conversations (which made the most sense to both of us then), we would both fall asleep next to each other, with tear-filled eyes and beer-filled guts...

On the bullier side, you would want to think twice before taking her too lightly, by the looks of her lean, fragile frame. She was once being bullied by the two (well-built) sisters who shared a room next to hers in the same building. She took it all silently for over two months, and the day she left that place to move into a new place, well! ASK THOSE SISTERS !!

In due course of time, our process WTS went back and we were both sent to different processes, with obvious changes in our weekly offs and shift-timings. But we still managed to keep in constant touch and would visit each other at every possible opportunity, keeping alive our age-old tradition of shopping, beer-glugging, pork/pizza treats and more importantly, exchanging our latest novels, girlie-gossips and beauty-tips.

We have never ever been pretentious with each other. With us, what you see is what you get. We both know each other in and out and have accepted each other inspite of our individual faults and short-comings. Its not that we always think alike and never have differences. We do. But we have never had any of our differences come in the way of our friendship. I shamelessly invite myself to her place for those innumerable treats of naga-style pork-curry-rice and the ad-on side dishes which I relish so much, and she would watch me hog those sinful mouth-watering, fat-filled, calorie-filled pork dishes, reminding me of my modelling-diet-regime. On her part, she would shamelessly remind me every year, of her (upcoming) birthday long before its even due, dropping obvious hints at the much awaited 'gift' that would bring an instant sparkle to those already twinkling eyes...

Well, this friend of mine-WATINARO AIER (NARO-as everyone lovingly calls her) would be leaving for her hometown (nagaland) for good, in a couple of weeks from now and as she was going through her 'full and final' formalities on her last day in the organisation, I couldn't help but think over our 'past' times together in the organisation and how we had become such good friends in due course of time. I somehow felt very lost and alone (as if a part of me was going to be lost forever), as we spent the day reliving most of our break-times in the old 'smoking-zone-area' and at the cafeteria 'illegally' sharing our last meal at the office, together...

TODAY is special because its her BIRTHDAY. And on this day, if I were to make a wish, it would surely be to continue being HER FRIEND all throughout OUR lives and getting HER as my friend in all the future lives, if WE were to be born again. This write-up is not an adieu-note but only a 'thank-you' to YOU my friend, for being the best-est person I have ever had as a friend and just to let you know that I'll miss you a lot when you'd be gone.

Many happy returns of the day, girl!

OH, WHAT A WEEKEND !

2006-10-13T02:13:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you reach a saturation point? When everything happening to you or around you fails to interest you anymore? When you feel you just can't take in anymore of the daily routine? You are mentally tired... so much that your brain has finally stopped taking sane decisions...You are bored of everything- the same work... the same faces... and you don't enjoy living any more... Then, maybe this is a good hint that you badly need a vacation. Maybe this is the time you need to pick up a few essentials in your duffel bag and just GO...

That's what happened to me. After great restlessness and sleeplessness on Thursday night and Friday, I finally decided that I HAD TO take off for somewhere to spend the weekend in total solitude, away from the mad-rush of the city. A quick net-surf strongly hinted that no other place could be better than RISHIKESH--not so far off and just an ideal getaway for the weekend, a land which promised ultimate peace and nirvana...

The travel-guides said that it would take around 51/2 hours by road, so I took a rough estimate of around 7 hours, taking a buffer-time of 1 and a 1/2 hours, considering the flexibilty of Indian Standard Time. I stayed awake on Friday night, packing (I had a very light luggage this time for a change), chatting up on the phone and watching TV, as I feared that if I fall asleep no alarm clock would be able to wake me up on time. I showered, got ready, said a little prayer and waited for the dawn to break. Finally, I caught an auto to the ISBT bus terminal and boarded a bus for Rishikesh at around 6am. As the bus took off, I fell into a deep sleep covering up my loss of the last two-nights sleep, waking up only at a couple of intervals when the bus halted for short breaks. Finally, we were at Rishikesh a little after 12 noon.

I took a share-based auto-rickshaw to 'Laxman Jhula', as I had read that this was a more 'happening' part of the town for weekenders not wanting just a totally 'spiritual-break'. After paying the fare of Rs.8 (mind you, that's the maximum fare within the farthest ends of the town), I noticed a 'Rooms are available' board in one of the guest-houses, very near to the main-market area of Laxman Jhula. I checked in to one of the basic but clean rooms which costed me a measly Rs.150 till 12 noon of the next day, which was the strict check-out time. After freshening up, I set out to see around the place. I walked down towards the Laxman-Jhula--a point where Lord Ram's brother Laxman is believed to have crossed the river Ganga on a jute rope, but today, it is just another suspension bridge with devotees on foot, motorbikes and scooters affording an easier crossing. On the way to the 'jhula' at the northern end, the area is quite noisy with hawkers vieing with each other, attracting customers to their individual stalls. You can find anything from religious goods (like religious books, comics, audio-cassettes, incense and sandalwood sticks and small deity-idols, etc), imitation jewellery(including mangal-sutras, rudraksh and other stone malas,etc), clothing (kulu-topis, nehru-jackets, kurtas, salwar-kameezes, etc), fruits, eatables and even small packets of sugar-dough-balls (to feed the fish) and packs of dry-chickpeas(to feed the monkeys, while crossing the 'jhula'. In those narrow lanes, I bought a few packs of the fish and the monkey feed, and a few packets of 'prasaad' to be offered to the Gods. Just on crossing the Laxman-Jhula, there are two-colourful 13-storey temples--'Swarg Niwas' on the right and 'Shri Tryambakeshwar' on the left. And an ancient 'Hanuman Temple' in between the two. There were several other temples all around in a row, but after visiting these three, I felt the need to put an end to any more temple-visits, and discover more of the place, instead. I crossed back the 'jhula' to reach the starting-point and walked down to the clean sandy beach lining the river. Sitting there by the beach, I dwelved into the cacophony of the temple-bells-chimes, the faint strains of classical music from the nearby stalls and of the noises of the people around, mixed with a heady smell of the fresh river-water and the incense-sticks from the nearby stalls and temples. Sitting on the banks for sometime, watching the peaceful 'Ganga' flow her way down slowly but steadily, I walked up to the 'German Bakery Cafe' just a few steps away, for a quick snack and some tea. The view from there was even better, and still better than that was the amazingly tasty eats the cafe provided at such moderate prices.

Rishikesh is strictly vegetarian and you cannot carry or expect to find any non-veg or alcohol in the whole town, but being a strict vegan on saturdays, it suited me fine. Due to the constant rush of foreign-tourists, the restaurateurs have learnt to be innovative with their dishes. I ordered for a glass of 'ayurvedic-tea' with honey, alongwith a delicious grilled 'vegetable' sandwich filled heartily with their universally acclaimed homemade goat-cheese.

Once satisfied with my meal, I started off for the 'Ram Jhula' again on a shared-based auto, which costed me Rs. 3 this time. On getting down there near the 'jhula', I took a longer route, walking my way through the closely-strewn huts and ashrams and reached the impressive 'Ram-Jhula', swaying a little with the strong wind above the swirling Ganga. It was a very 'moving' experience to just stand in the centre of this 'jhula', feeding the dough-balls to the fishes in the river below. The 'Ram-Jhula' connects 'Shivanand Ashram' on the east bank with 'Swargashram' on the west. I kept walking further on after crossing the 'jhula' and reached a narrow-lane full of stalls very similar to those near the 'Laxman Jhula' area. Here, I spent some time picking up small Ganesh-ji idols, Shivlings, sandalwood pieces, dried amla and ginger packs and a few fruits that I had never seen before. As I moved my way ahead, I came across a place called the 'Parmaarth Niketan'-an ashram trust, which organises 'Gangaji-ki-arti' every evening around sunset, hymns sung in unison by adolescent sanskrit students, dressed in saffron-coloured robes. I walked in following the sweet musical hymn and just within a few minutes the place was swarming with devotees-both Indian and foreigners. The group of students were seated at the stairs of the ashram, overlooking the huge image of Lord Shiva in spotless white marble, seated in padmasan in a deep meditation poise, right in the middle of the flowing Ganga, the deep orange sun setting behind Him. Just on the banks was a 'yagya' (an oblation) going on and the melodious sanskrit hymns by the students and the devotees, singing and swaying in unison to the prayer, made it an experience of the most beautiful form of (mass) prayer I had ever witnessed. This 'aarti' lasted for around 2 1/2 hours, after which most of the devotees offered beautiful flowers, incense-sticks and lighted-diyas in leaf-caskets to the river Ganga as their offerings to Her. Those few hours at the 'Parmaarth Niketan' ganga-aarti brought such peace and tranquility to my mind that I felt 'purified' right upto my soul. My mind was totally blank and at peace, an absolute high without the influence of even a single bit of nicotine. At the end of the 'aarti' and the offerings to the Ganges, a few lighted diyas in stands were passed around and most of the devotees took the warmth of these lighted lamps as a form of the God's blessings.

After the 'aarti' most of the devotees were found rushing to the 'Chotiwala' restaurant at the eastern end, to grab some dinner. Here they serve both north and south indian and also chinese food, but their 'thali' is the most famous of all. By the time I reached 'Chotiwala', both the restaurants (run by the two brothers) were full and had a long queue of customers in waiting. And as all the nearby food-stalls selling 'indian' food were also occupied, I found the 'Green Italian Food' restaurant near 'Swargashram', fairly vacant and quickly grabbed a seat. I was a little doubtful of the kind of 'italian-food' they'd come up with, looking at the so-affordable price menu, but the delicious spinach-cheese lasagna along with the huge slice of tiramisu which left my taste-buds craving for more even after I was full to the brim, at just Rs.125, could have put any great Italian restaurants in Delhi to shame both cost-wise and taste-wise.

After dinner, I hopped into a shared-autorickshaw again back to my hotel-room and as the rickshaw driver dropped me right infront of the hotel, instead of the usual auto-stand nearby in the market, he shyly asked me for 10 bucks for the 'special' service and applicable night-fare-cahrges. I got back to my room and fell into a deep slumber, quite early to my normal sleep-time standards. The night was cold as it had rained, and the blanket provided by the hotel was put to full use.

I was woken up at around 6am on the 'divine' sunday morning, to the chaos of the vibrant Rishikesh atmosphere--the constant chime of the temple bells, the smell of incense-induced air and the rays of the lazy sun creeping in through the hotel-room windows, the faint hymns of the Gayatri-mantra and other religious slokas, foreigners walking down the road in saffron 'hare rama-hare krishna' kurtas, everything was utterly purifying and woke me up fresh after a good night's sleep. I took a shower and went down to the bathing ghats of the Laxman-jhula, only to find the 'sandhus' bathing in the river and the prayer-flags fluttering on the river-banks. As it was not a very pleasant view, I trekked a few kilometres uphill on the straight road and in through the lanes and was amazed to feel so much at peace and one with nature even in the midst of a town bustling with people. I walked back to my hotel room and checked out at about 12 noon and went down to the 'German-Bakery' Cafe for a lazy sunday brunch. I occupied my favourite seat overlooking the 'laxman-jhula' with its temples and the bathing ghats, and as I was basking in the view, enjoying my delicious brunch, I was joinned in by a gentleman in his late 40s-David, from NY city-a professor in religious teachings, who is a follower of Swami Paramahansa, and he visits India every year with his troops of 'firang-students'. As we shared a few general whereabouts over our brunch at the same table in the cafe, David gave me an overall idea of the 'Glasshouse on the Ganges' where he and his troop had put up. Though he said it is a little expensive, but the huge volume discounts that they get due to their regular visits, it works out to be pretty reasonable for them. This place is a heritage property from the 'Neemrana' stable, set in a lychee orchard, with tropical gardens full of rare birds and butterflies, on the Rishikesh-Badrinath road. From David's naration, it seemed to be a totally different world secluded from the main Rishikesh town and I promised myself to visit it the next time I landed up there again. In the midst of our conversation, we were joined in by an Italian lady and an Englishman and our conversation got rather varied yet interesting, exchanging meditation-techniques, places to visit in India, local food, weather and the approaching festival-of-lights.

At around 2 pm, I bade farewell to my new-found friends and came down to the 'Triveni-ghats' at Rishikesh, very near to the bus-terminal from where I was to board a bus back. It is believed that if you took a dip in the Ganga at this ghat, it purifies you in and out as the waters here have soul-purifying powers. There were proper changing facilities after you took a dip and it was a really great feeling to let the chilly flowing waters of the Ganga, wash you clean under the hot afternoon sun.

I sat there on the banks for some more time after the 'holy' dip and change, and then took a bus which brought me back to the city where I live... back to my routine life, but with a fresh mind, a relaxed body, a clean soul and a weekend of pure 'Nirvana'...

RANDOM FEELINGS...!!!

2006-10-10T02:11:00.000-07:00

Sometimes its a strange relationship very difficult to have a name for or to describe it.. You may just talk to 'someone' with whom you have nothing in common, just sit along with that person and still feel so secure and fascinated by his/her presence... as if you have known that person forever... Thats the ultimate test of a relationship... to be in the mystery yet feel that you belong... to disagree but still hold hands... to not say anything but still know you are loved...

KINGFISHER STRONG....

2006-10-09T03:23:00.000-07:00

The effect that 'strong beer' has on my thought-process, is truely amazing. It brings such strange thoughts and feelings that take over my sensibility that it really surprises me. Like yesterday night, when I was struggling hard to catch on some sleep, my tired eyes heavy with hours of television-watching and two bottles of strong beer were shut and ready, but my mind just wouldn't allow me to sleep. It was super-active and set working faster than usual along with my heart.. I could almost hear the ticking of their work-pace...

Out of the blue, I remembered some people and started missing them... people who used to be my very good friends at one point of time, but who I have lost touch with or chose out of my life because of some difference or the other... people who have wronged me... people who I mis-understood... people who have just been out of touch all these years... people who couldn't take in an honest feedback about themselves... people who had fallen in love with me but I didn't... people who I had been in love with, but could never tell them... people who had been there for the moment without any benefit or harm and just vanished out of my life's chapter... people who I just couldn't fit into my life any longer... people who meant so much at one point of time that I thought I couldn't just live without them but I'm still living... people who I had lost to time, space or death... people who meant so much... people who meant so little... and people who made no difference at all... people who I lost and found and lost again... people who taught me to live... people who gave me pain... people who showed me how to laugh and be happy... people who taught me some simple pleasures and truths of life... people who I have fought with like a bitch... people I have played with as a child... people who played a great role in moulding me into the person I am today... people who were just being their own...

Suddenly I felt all alone and wanted to reach out to all of them with a heartful of love and arms full of hugs. I felt that if I died in my sleep, I would never ever be able to tell them that its alright... maybe I was wrong at times too... that, I would want to say 'sorry' for any wrong I have done or said or if I hurt them without knowing... that, it would be so much more beautiful to be friends again rather than being enemies or to have negative vibes with each other...

... and in the midst of such heavy thinking, the 'beer' took over and put me into a deep dreamless sleep....

CHECK THIS OUT....

2006-10-08T04:16:00.000-07:00

Recently got this from a friend of mine and its so good that I just cudn't resist putting it up here

FEMALE POEM
I want a man who's handsome, smart and strong
One who loves to listen long
One who thinks before he speaks
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I want him gainfully employed,
When I spend his cash, he's not annoyed.
Pulls out my chair and opens my door,
Massages my back and begs to do more.
I want this man to love me to no end,
And always be my very best friend.

MALE POEM
I want a deaf-mute nymphomaniac with a good figure
who owns a liquor store and a flashy car.
I know this doesn't rhyme but I don't give a shit.

OOPS! I DO IT AGAIN AND AGAIN...

2006-09-19T01:17:00.000-07:00

For me, following a trend or any latest fashion has always been a pain... in the wrong place. As far as I can remember, I have always been experimentative about my looks and my style, since my college days... last couple of years of my graduating period, that is. Coming from a family like mine, I always had this pressure of looking-'decent'-factor about my appearance rather than attractive. Fashion was not only debatable-it was despicable, worrisome and damnable in our family. I have always been made to understand from my school days that a 'decent girl' is the one who wore her skirts or frocks below her knees. That included even the school uniforms-white shirts, atleast 2 sizes larger than the actual fit and pleated grey skirts falling below the knee-level, hair tied or pleated in 'two', broad red-ribbons intact. Any teacher or sister who would notice anyone with their skirts above or at the knee-level, would pull open the hem-stitches of the wearer or call up the parents summoning for new 'longer' skirts immediately. If it were for my teachers at school, I'd still be sporting oversized 'decent shirts' and long 'granny-skirts' and if it were for my parents, very loose salwar-kameez with dupatta intact and pinned up in the 'right' places. Fitted jeans labelled the girl-wearer as 'super-fast', so wear if you must, there were 'baggy-jeans' available in the 'decent' category. I did sport that kind of a look till I was maybe in the second or third year of my graduation in college.

As I started reading more Fashion Magazines with shifted interest to the glamorous Fashion-designing world from the boring accountancy balance-sheets, I became more and more aware of the latest trends, colours, designs and styles suited for different individuals. I still can't get over the first reaction emitted by my college friends when I wore black-nailpolish for an annual college function (a shade which was a specially ordered via someone coming back home from abroad). It matched perfectly with my attire and make-up, but even though it complimented my looks, it was not accepted and highly criticised and discouraged. Nobody had ever heard of the smokey-eye-effect at that time, forget about gothic make-up. One of my friends even offered to repaint my nails with her matte-pink polish over my black-coated nails, to 'normalise' my look. Of-course I did not relent to the offer. Slowly, I designed myself short kurtas with patiala pyjamas as an alternative to the very draggy long salwar-kameezes which everyone wore. The short kurtas looked smarter and were more convenient when worn loose even without dupattas. But of-course, the trend had not started then, and no matter how covered or decent they were to me, eyes were rolled up and eye-brows raised. My parents were enraged and asked me soon to discard away my 'fully-faaltu' designs.

Soon after I completed my college, graduating with accountancy honors, and discovering my new-found passion for fashion-designing, I shifted base to Delhi from Guwahati (my hometown), of-course with much opposition from my parents, who thought Fashion-designing was not a career at all... an MBA degree or Bank P.O. would have been a much preferred option. However, I moved here and as I stayed away from home and far from the constant scrutiny of my parents, I found myself being free to choose my clothes and styles that I liked to carry on myself. I gave away all my salwar-kameezes that I had carried with me to Delhi, to an orphanage. Then I started wearing clothes I found more comfortable to work in. As I was always on the 'go' mode, designing-classes in the morning, part-time job at the 'Habitat Centre' in the afternoons till late night, I was mostly in jeans, 6-pocket-cargos, tees, shirts and kurtas. It was utterly convenient to board a bus or cross the busy ring-road in a hurry, without my age-old salwar-kameez-dupatta get-up. The jeans or the cargos and kurtas with pockets made everything fit in place, handier and hassle-free. I felt free and more confident. I seldom wore salwar-kameez ever, after that. (And my ma still longs to see me in them.)
Next, I got my waist-length hair chopped off to a shoulder-length step-cut. It made me look nicer and much younger. It was also more easier to style as well as to maintain my hair.

For a couple of times when I visited home during the holidays or for any other festive ocassions, each time sporting a new-look, my parents, sisters and relatives expressed shock. But then I realised and made my folks realise that people would say something or the other anyway. If I put on some weight people would remark on that; if I lost weight they would still have a problem with that. Ditto for my hair-style and dressing. Then my parents stopped being shocked any further... or atleast they stopped reacting any more...
Of course, when I went home wearing my newly acquired low-waist levi's as the fashion had just hit Delhi and the other metros in India, my ma was scandalised. She couldn't understand whether I was gaining height or losing weight, as to why the jeans always remained there so low. Also, when I donned my new 'dirt-look' cultured denim jacket (not to mention it costed me a fortune), my dad soaked it in surf-exel for two nights straight before washing it clean with all his might, until the brown colour of it was replaced by no colour or almost white. While I did not realise that my jacket was missing, my dad was so proud of his washing ability that could have given any washing-machine worth its price a run for its money. When he mouthed a string of (un-wanted) advice on how I should wash my clothes more often and I realised what the context was, I could have shouted my guts out in horror... because my priceless jacket which I had even hardly worn no longer looked its worth...

When I went home again once, with my newly acquired tan and permed hair, my folks thought I was dating an afro-american, not a south-indian. "Or was it the South-Indian's influence for my new look?" they asked. I couldn't convince them that it was my choice, not his. Yet again, when I did the poker-straight-sleek look, my ma lost her sleep imagining me losing all my hair and going bald one fine day. Next, when I tried the 'out-of-bed' look, my (then) boyfriend's parents sympathised with how much work I might have had to do or how little I might have earned, so as not to be able to take proper care of my hair. They tried to help and suggested oil-therapy atleast twice a week with genuine coconut hair-oil, especially brought in from Kerala...
With tassels, funky belts, chains, wristbands, broad-netted hairbands and pointed boots to my credit, the reactions evoked were so much more interesting! A colleague of mine said that my feet... actually my boots (which were so new at that time that I was the only one wearing them, atleast at my workplace... some two years back) looked like a witch's feet. So much for my custom-made boots with the exclusive 4-inch heel, made to order from the downloaded print of an international footwear website.
Right after my Goa trip, I went home sporting my hippie-boho-look. The concept was as alien to them as 'walking a mile-crossing the river-to school' was for me. So when I wore my handkerchief skirts at home or a shirt-kurti over the traditional 'mekhela-chaadar' for a family function, I wasn't surprised when my ma sported a 'this is satan's spawn, not mine' look.

The last time when I was annoyed to a great extent, was when I bagged an assignment for 'Schwarzkopf' the famous German hair product company. A German expert was flown in who gave me a new look with a nice style and coloured some parts of my hair, mostly hi-lighting at appropriate areas (the same look is seen in my profile picture with the red-tshirt on). When I walked into my workplace after my assignment was over, most of my colleagues were seen emitting muffled reactions. Only a few liked the look and some were blunt enough to say that it was looking 'horrible'. But that was a part of my assignment with an international client and they paid me... good. And most importantly, I liked it on me. Still sporting the Schwarzkopf-look, when I went home in April with expected reaction, my parents had a problem this time because they thought I now looked younger than my age. Till that time I thought it was a good thing to look younger than one's age (especially when you are on the wrong side of your 20's and still happily single). But my parents explained that if I looked younger, I'd be approached by younger guys for marriage, which is again not a very commonly accepted phenomenon in case of an arranged-marriage.

After the initial gnashing of teeth, swearing under my breath with clenched teeth and listening to the boring lectures from dad and prayers from my ma (as always) to let this be the last time, I tried patiently to explain to them why they need to let me be myself. I talked about my individuality, my modelling needs, women's lib and what not. When everything failed, I reversed the game. I mentioned how I do not grudge them their need to dye their silver strands into jet-black.. how inspite of me suggesting them co-ordinated clothes for a social-do, they would still wear what they fancied... that, it was them who taught me to assert my choices and decisions... And oh! How I simply controlled my urge to laugh out loud when one of our rich relatives tried to understand fashion and bought me a oh-so-bollywoodish 'Bunty-Babli' salwar-piece with 'gota-patti' sequins and dollops of colours and frills...

While all of these debates and convincing can be thoroughly time-and-energy-consuming, they are thoroughly amusing as well, atleast for me. All these debates contribute majorly to my eventful and action-packed 3, max 4days stay at home whenever I visit. But deep in my heart I know, whoever I am or whatever I wear, whether the world accepts me or not, my family and my circle of the closest friends, still will. That's love (for the real me)... that's trust (a belief that I'd never really cross the line)... that's family (who are the closest and most dearest to my heart)...

PATIENTLY WAITING FOR A TRAGEDY

2006-09-07T03:34:00.000-07:00

Ma called up today morning at about 9-ish. It was unusual as I spoke to her yesterday only. And from the little quiver in her voice when she spoke, I could make out there was something wrong. My sleep vanished instantly and I sat up to listen to her carefully. She started with her usual, "Are you still sleeping? Its past 9am..." bit. (That's mid-day for her and dawn for me)

Then she came to the real point and it hit me hard... Planetary positions may trigger an earthquake in Assam tomorrow at around 8am. Its magnitude to expected to be of 8.5 by the Richter Scale, which is of a great intensity... almost that of the Tsunami...

For a moment I felt like losing consciousness but ma still kept on talking about their plans.... how she plans to cook everyone's favourite for tonight's dinner at home (just in case...), how she would go to her yoga classes tomorrow morning at 5 and then coming back she plans to make breakfast sooner than usual and if in case the earthquake doesn't happen, what she plans to buy as a gift for our neighbour Dutta-aunty's new-born grand-child...

Just after hearing this much I could not register anything else in my head, the rest was all blabber. My whole thought-process froze and I got nervous... I still am. I asked them to just start off for here right away. But she would not listen. Neither would my dad or my sisters. They would just wait there and be prepared to face come what may. Scenes from the movie TITANIC keep flashing by infront of me and in my mind.... how they all embrace death when they are caught in that sinking ship. What do you feel and how can you prepare for such a natural destruction? I don't know. But I can only pray that a miracle happens and prevents this earthquake from taking place. Amen!