Monologue

Book Review - Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: A Book of Miracles

2012-01-05T15:31:00.000+05:30

"There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle; you can live as if everything is a miracle."

-Albert Einstein

Do you believe in magic? Do you think miracles really happen? Well, whatever your answer, I’m sure that each story from this collection will leave you believing in magic in people, miracles in day to day life and most importantly, in a power that guides each one of us through seemingly difficult times. I’m a practical person who tends to see the logic and reason behind things, as I’m sure most of you are. I’m not necessarily a religious person and while I don’t trust the Ganges’ power to wash away all my sins, I do believe in a higher power that is with me all the time. You may choose to call it God, the universe or your guardian angel – this power is with us to steer us through rough times, to hold our hand for support or just to make us stronger. And every story from Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: A Book of Miracles has reinforced this believe in me.

It is a collection of 101 true stories shared candidly by people, about amazing coincidences, rediscovered faith, and the serenity that comes from believing in a greater power. And these people sharing their personal experiences with us are not the so-called spiritually enlightened yogis or the always meditating saffron wearing sadhus, but regular people like you and me who go to work for a living, love their families to bits and constantly struggle to make life a little better. Some stories are really relatable, and had me see a few incidents of my own life in a new light.

The stories have been divided into 12 sections. Signs From Above is where the contributors tell us about the signs – powerful or subtle, but enough for them to spot – they received from the supreme power. The stories talk about signs that we are not alone in distress, about gaining knowledge and belief that it only gets better from here and about coming at peace with the situation. ‘The Tacky Label’ is the one I found endearing. The healing Power Of A Prayer tells us about real life experiences of prayers that have saved the day, the situation and even life. Love From Beyond has many stories that brought tears to my eyes – narrating experiences where help was showered from the other side of existence. These are stories of how our loved ones, people who are no longer with us, make their presence felt and speak silently to us, directing us, taking care of our needs, ensuring out wellbeing and making us feel loved in moments when we require it the most. This is probably the biggest brush with the surreal, transcending all logic and judgement. His/Her Messenger is all about helping strangers or angels that came in the lives of people and assisted them in various ways. ‘Aasman Se Aaya Farishta’ and ‘Cup of Coffee’ tell the tales of much needed yet unexplained help that will enrich your faith in miracles. His Saving Grace, as the name suggests, is a section devoted to God’s direct intervention in saving these contributors from grave dangers. ‘The Mystery Man at Milestone 5’ is similar to what a friend of mine, a fellow Army Wife stationed in the North East, had experienced. It was enough to give me Goosebumps. Angles Amongst Us is about how people have received help from totally unexpected directions, recounting the terrors of the Gujarat earthquake, Mumbai terror Attacks and other incidents where the authors were offered help by strangers. Answered Prayers and Everyday Miracles will strengthen your faith in the supreme power. Divine Appointment is about God’s call and how listening to it can change your life, give you inner peace. The Magic of Faith is perhaps the most important section, because it talks about faith. I’ve always felt that a man without faith can never be strong; our faith holds us together and keeps us going. Our Guardian Angle is dedicated to stories about receiving help in times of need, almost like a direct intervention from heaven. Finally, Call From Within focuses on learning and acceptance, listening to your inner voice and rising above fears because you know there is help available to each one of us.

Nearly all stories are written in a simple narrative style, with an exception of a few. The fact that the stories are all short makes it an easy read, like all other Chicken Soup collections. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I was moved by this book and its stories. Some anecdotes tugged at my heart because of their sheer simplicity and intense emotions, like ‘Aur Ek Cup’, ‘Caring Still from Beyond...’, ‘A Prayer Answered’ and more. Some of the pieces show how help from above was recognized by the authors in situations that a practical mind would most likely dismiss as chance – ‘The End of a Beginning’ and ‘Presence’ for example.

When you read these stories, no matter if you believe in God or not, I’m sure you will realize that faith is of immense importance in life. Sometimes we place our faith in people whom we love and trust, sometimes in Him or The Universe – and the magic about Chicken Soup for the Indian Soul: A Book of Miracles is that it tell us that both are indeed the same; that our guardian angel can be someone as ordinary as we ourselves are, that our “intuition” or “direct knowledge” without any reasoning can help us through the bleakest hours, and that the real miracle lies in our ability to react pertinently to the messages we receive from above.

Like the Joan Osborne song, also mentioned in one of the stories, this book made me wonder – “What if God were one of us, just a stranger on the bus...” And in the end, all I can say is that miracles do happen, and each story in this book will convince you of that! So drop your guards of logic, reasoning and practicality and immerse yourself in these thought provoking collection of 101 real stories about hope and warmth.

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

Misguided by Women Magazines? Ha Ha Ha (Points And Laughs)

2011-12-21T17:22:00.003+05:30

This post is featured in BlogAdda's Spicy Saturday Picks for December 2011.

I picked up a fat glossy women's magazine last week from a street vendor. To be honest, I've never been big on magazines. I read some Cosmopolitan back in college but then that's almost mandatory in that age, and it is never terminal. I of course recovered and now I only pick up a Marie Claire, a Femina or a Good Homes only when I'm waiting my turn for a haircut, at a dentist or in the loo where there’s nothing else to read.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against the concept of a Women's Magazine per se. Infact, they can be great fun at times - Latest gossip to keep you well informed, pages and pages of alluring beauty products that make you drool and sometimes even half a good article or something to stir your thoughts. My point is - Its all good and sugary only until you weigh your time and money spent against the supposed Women’s Wisdom you’ve gained through these innocent looking pages. Let me explain.

Cover:

“Sure Shot Way To Win Your Man Over”

Inside:

· Cook Sushi for him

· Look him in the eye and tilt your head to your side, just a little

· Give him a blow job

See my point? I mean what self respecting woman in a right frame of mind would, first of all, want relationship advice from a magazine, and second of all, believe the pointers they give?

Another example:

"50 Great Things To Do With Your Breasts"

These 'great' things are on the general line of Stick-you-ID-and-Credit-Card-In-Your-Cleavage-To-Go-Purse-Free and, beat this, Go-Bra-Less-On-A-Night-Out-And-Wear-A-Low-Cut-Shirt-To-Make-It-Obvious. I kid you not, these are word to word tips from a magazine I downloaded online.

What's interesting is that most of the magazines focus on sex as their life depended on us having sex, and even then their sex moves are old recycled rubbish from – I assume – their own older editions. Seriously, leather lingerie and whipped cream? Yawn.

Women Magazines: The Funnies

Here are a few sections that the entire hundred and forty eight Women’s Magazines in the country feature regularly and which of course are of little use to any real women with half an ounce of dignity.

Editor’s Note: Believe it or not, this is often a rich piece of content in a magazine. Or should be. In reality, these Editor’s Notes are not-so-subtle reminders of the good old Table of Content with nothing but a list of the Cover Story on How to Find Out If Your Man is Cheating on You, the Star Interview claiming to give you a ‘never seen before’ aspect of Sonam Kapoor’s life, the Diet of the Month for you to fail at (yet again), and other such unoriginal junk. Completely blah.

Special Edition: These editions are fatter, glossier, and more expensive than your plain Jane regular ones. Reason for a special edition are numerous - Anniversary of the Mag? Yes! Milestone year for the publication group? Hell Yes! Country’s Independence Day? Of course! Womens’ Day? Bring it on! Editors’ birthday? What the hell, WHY NOT? This only means a bigger star on the cover, more full-page ads from Brands that have a store only in Mumbai (or sometimes Delhi), a fifteen page collection of photographs of ‘The Years Gone By’ and a series of lame articles or interviews that you quit reading half way.

Full-Page Ads: They are the essence of every Woman’s Magazine I’ve seen recently. Brands advertise uncontrollably – Makeup giants, discreet Plastic Surgery clinics, Hair Care / Skin Care ranges, Clothes and accessories that nudge you in the ribs to chase the elusive ‘in’ feeling. These ads occupy a good 75% of the magazine. Come Special Editions and it goes up to 80%. But don’t blame the mag staff, this is probably how they are earning their revenue, poor things.

Must-Haves for The Season: This section is often the biggest, next only to the full page ads. This will have attractive, tugging-at-your-heart display of the latest range of Dresses, Handbags, Fragrances, Shoes, Makeup Items and other carp you can’t afford. I mean, who goes out shopping every three months to replace everything (clothes to makeup) with new stuff that’s supposedly chic? I know I don’t. (But then, that’s maybe because I don’t have money and I’m not size zero. Are you?) It gets really funny when on the next page is a wise article written in a stern tone telling you to de-clutter your wardrobe in order to gain spirituality. Some of them do have a sense of humor after all, I think.

Regular (lame) features: This has a list of interesting stuff like Astrology readings, Quizzes, a Guy’s Corner and Reader’s Letters who swear by the magazine’s influence on their life. Most fun is the Confession (or Sex Advice in some) where a dubious girl who slept with her cousin’s fiancée but is actually a lesbian is confessing to having relationship troubles. Jeez! I’m still holding hope for some mag-insider to tell me they have a job profile exclusively for coming up with such bizarre things. I’m applying!

Cover Story: A cover story, generally flaunted to no end on the cover page, claiming to be super original and ground breaking, is generally something on the theme of “What Not To Say To A Man” – answers are ‘I missed my period’ or ‘What’s your ATM pin?’ - or ‘“How To Know He’s Into You For The Long Run” with clever pointers like ‘He ditches his male friends for you’ and ‘His eyes widen when he looks at you.’ Pffftttt! Next time a guy looks at you with wide eyes – maybe because you said something like missing your period – you snap your fingers and say “Hey you! Wide eyes, mister. Gotcha!” Then start preparing for your wedding.

I’m kidding. Don’t ever do that. Telling you in case you’re that woman who reads and believes these magazines. WHAT? There has to be somebody who believes them! How else do you explain the slow fall of newspapers but the steady growth of such Magazines?

And if you are a self confessed lover of the magazines, stop wasting your money and just write to me. I can give you your monthly – okay fortnight if you insist – dose of suffering by telling you how you suck in life if you don’t have a clue about the season’s hottest eye makeup, by bullying you to perform better at work by wearing empowering work-attire and the right accessories, by giving you tips to be a sexpot at home (Feathers and cleavage, right?) and by encouraging you to stop eating to become fabulously skinny for the world. Brilliant, I think.

So. Who’s game?

They Are Playing My Song...

2011-12-08T15:25:00.001+05:30

It started the night before when I couldn't sleep till very late and woke up early with a fairly good recollection of a crappy dream. The day unfolded in what can only be described as a painfully-slow-stab-at-the-heart speed. Tricky deadlines, uncalled for distractions, annoying distances, faltering technology (basically stupid phone lines that wouldn't let me talk to him), mounting depression complete with nosy relatives - this was a day designed by the devil. Then there were work related arguments which otherwise don't bother me at all, but it was that kind of a day where everything distressed me.

By the evening, I was involuntarily letting the day slip out of my hands - in all shades of grey and sometimes burning orange. Don't get me wrong, there was nothing drastic that happened. Work has always been demanding, I have always been easily distracted and extremely volatile, and I know that being with him every second of the day just isn't possible. Still, this was one of those days when all the reasoning and logic was abandoned and I sulked. Then I realized I was sulking, felt weak, defeated even, and sulked some more.

Just then, someone turned up the music.

"There are many things that I
Would like to say to you but I don't know how
Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all, you're my wonderwall"

I smiled and shouted to no one in particular - Hey! They're playing my song!

Music has a strange, strong power over us - it can make you feel things that you don't otherwise do. Or are not aware of them. Music can mend hearts - or break them. Music is the center of my being and It can alter my moods, yes. And the fact that Wonderwall was being played right when I needed it - makes me believe that music is there for me too. Bizarre, I know but its true - Wonderwall, my childhood favorite and my life's unofficial anthem (almost) was playing on one of my unusual dull days.

Music will save us!

Like Nick Hornby writes in High Fidelity -

“Sentimental music has this great way of taking you back somewhere at the same time that it takes you forward, so you feel nostalgic and hopeful all at the same time.”

Music is the biggest power in my world. All was good because they were playing my song. I wasn't gloomy anymore. I was singing loudly - totally out of tune - to the song. And just like that, my day got better.

From a Different Time...: The Best of Quest

2011-11-29T22:49:00.001+05:30

The Best of Quest: A Book Review

Edited by: Laeeq Futehally, Achal Prabhala, Arshia Sattar

Publication: Tranquebar

MRP: Rs 695

Before I read, or even saw the book, I stumbled upon this article published in Live Mint and needless to say, I was intrigued. The last lines of the article, by one of the editors Arshia Sattar, especially appealed to me in a mysterious way. They were -

“Today, we might be critical about the fact that Quest spoke only for some people, and essentially to a westernized middle class with intellectual aspirations. But we have to acknowledge that different things come to us from a different time, that they can tell us how our time became our time”

This glossy, colorful and rather fat book took me to a bygone era, one where I had not ventured at all. I’ll explain. Quest was a magazine that was born in Mumbai in the 1950s, and ran successfully for two decades before it bowed down to the Emergency period and collapsed. With poet and critic Nissim Ezekiel as editor, Quest was the intellectual rite of passage for many of the big names that we see today in newspapers, magazines, academic journals an even TV. The Best of Quest is a collection of some of the best essays, stories and poetry that once adorned the pages of the magazine.

Essays:

The essays are the real essence of Quest – long, diverse (subject wise) and strongly opinionated, they offer a perspective that can still surprise us. I especially loved the pieces by the elusive “D” – identified as Dilip Chitre. ‘Charisma of Rajesh Khanna’, ‘From Sex to Samadhi’ and ‘What Has Dimple Got That Satyajit Hasn’t?’ are hilarious and you automatically fall in love with the writer’s sharp wit and outright irreverence. Essays like ‘Sadhus and Hippies’, ‘The Coffee Brown Boy Looks At The Black Boy’ and 'In Defence of Pulp Literature’ could be easily talking about situations in today's India – with the topics being, well, topical even today. Some, though, I had to push myself to finish (or even start) – but that is not because of the quality or content, but because the context doesn’t resonate with me, a reader in her twenties. Maybe a note before the essays, an introduction to the pieces would have helped. However, my mother (whose parents read the original magazine and who also is the proud owner of two original Quest issues stacked in her safely locked tall teakwood book shelf somewhere), claims to have read and loved each and every essay in the collection, so there.

Fiction:

I read ‘Kalyani’ (Kamala Das, translated by R.Nandakumar) and I shuddered. I read ‘Gherao’ (Arun Joshi) and I wept. This is the effect of some of the stories in the collection. This section is carefully crafted, featuring some writers that are prominent now and some translations as well. ‘The Departure’ by Yashwant Chittal (translated by Dilip Chitre) and ‘Sword and Abyss’ by Keki N. Daruwalla are worth reading again.

Poetry:

Now this is the section I loved. I love poetry and I have proved it time and again by posting my own versions of it on this blog every now and then. I now wonder - what if I had a chance to show my pieces to Nissim for his comments – I can almost picture myself walking to him at the Bombay University, holding sheets of paper and nodding anxiously at anything he had to say. Why don’t we have people like that now? Whom do I go to and show my work for an expert view? So unfair.

Anyway, all the poems in the book are a delight to read. From Adil Jussawala (I offered her cracked rock, / Thistles, wildthorn, grit, / A desert without shade / And called it love.) to Santan Ridrigues (Greasy seas you float in / have changed/ their song, / its waves the colour / of their foam) – each and every poem touched a chord somehow. Every poem takes on a different theme, every poet – a different style, making it an enchanting collection. My suggestion - Keep this book on your bedside table for its poems and read a random piece before you go to bed.

Also, what shines throughout the book is a rich collection of yesteryear print ads from the pages of the original Quest. I am going to get a couple of them framed for sure! For a girl in digital advertising in the 2000s, the image of a saree clad lady, posing on the floor against a table fan (or floor fan, who knows?) with the copy – “You’re cooler with a Rallifan” is adorable. Some of these darling advertisements are about brands that I haven’t even heard of – Sungloss decorative surfacing, Black Magic permanent hair dye and (the winner!) Erasmic razor blade.

In my opinion, though a bit verbose (essays) and with a couple of archaic topics, The Best of Quest will leave a reader like me happy, content and maybe even a tad evolved. All in all, the collection should make its editors proud of all the hard work because they have given today’s reader a gem from a time that seems enormously distant in some ways and extremely tantalizing in every way possible. If I had to sell this book in one line, I would tell you to read it because it “...tell(s) us how our time became our time”

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

When I'm Not Around - Part 2

2011-11-13T17:50:00.002+05:30

Yes, I know its a hopeless case if you have to post Part 2 of your when-I'm-not-blogging post. Part one was when I had hoped I'll redeem myself. Part two is when I just want to post some shit and get done with it.

On the bright side though, I just realized I don't give up easily! Yayyyy to that. I mean, I had pretty strong reasons to give up on this blog altogether - my last post was more than a month ago, and that too (let's face it) was a sloppy attempt at regular blogging by posting a random draft from my phone. L.A.M.E. But at least I tried to give a fuck about it, no? And you know what a pro I am at ignoring your 'Waiting For Your Next Post! *smiling face*' to 'No Post For Soooo Long????? *over dose of question marks to haunt me*" to 'Get Your Ass Here!' and finally 'Buy Viagra on Discount' comments on previous posts - they don't faze me one bit. Plus I had other things like zero traffic and negative motivation to deal with.

So many reasons, I could have given up entirely on the whole blogging thing, right? But No Sireeee! I'm right back, in the spirit of writing (almost) - telling you about what I might be upto when I'm not around PLUS (here's the bonus, my lovelies!) an entire new section on Reasons I'm An Irregular Blogger. Pretty damn cool, right? RIGHT? So stop wasting my time and read the precise, crisp and (most likely) totally unedited-before-publishing bullet points.

When I'm Not Around, completely ignoring this blog, I might be:

Looking down at my phone. Seriously. Since 2009
Tweeting inane stuff that no one really cares about
Tweeting about wonderful ideas on blogging. Just last week I came up with 'I should write about not writing' idea for a blog post and tweeted it instantly. Got me several replies and a few RTs even. Yeah, that was that.
Living happily ever after!
Writing my book. Oh hahahahahahaha. No.
Writing my book that no publisher is buying. Yet. Just YET!
Attending conference calls from clients and agencies for several hours - hence ending up in a mental black hole for the rest of the day. It happens more than you can imagine.
Getting back in shape - a new me. Thinner. Taller even? JUST SHUT UP AND GO WITH IT.
Attending anger management classes. What? You don't know me personally.
Forwarding chain mails to 25 people, in fear of what might happen if I don't. Scary thought.
Telling people 'I told you so'. Seriously, people never listen.
Googling things like 'Clever ideas for a blog post' or 'What should I have for lunch' or 'Why my existence matters' You know, the regular queries of a regular person.
Doing nothing. Seriously. If you were nothing, I'd probably be doing you right now.
Not being drunk enough to be blogging. Good reason, right?

A few of those points are completely made up, a couple are my fantasy. Rest are true and it proves just how bitchy life can be. So no blames on me for not blogging enough. *wipes a stray tear* And with that, I rest my case your honor.

Image courtsey: bluntcard

Reasons I'm An Irregular Blogger:

I'm uninspired.
I'm not bothered.
I've transformed into a productive genius (who is about to tick 'Watch back to back seasons of Modern Family' off her To-Do list!)
I'm on Twitter
I'm busy living a romantic life with my man
I'm not earning anything through the blog
I'm just a soulless idiot

ONLY one or two of the above is true in my case, don't assume anything. Now leave me alone, I've got ~~Twitter~~ work to do.

Broken

2011-08-29T12:19:00.001+05:30

You are broken.
life breaks us all
Sometimes at places
Sometimes all over
You bleed, you fall apart
You run and can't escape
You hurt, you learn and unlearn
But you are not broken forever -
Someone comes along who puts the pieces together, mends you.
Sometimes that someone is someone else
But most of the times,
its you.

No Time To Read? Let Me Help You.

2011-08-02T00:15:00.003+05:30

People are always telling me how great it is that I manage to ‘take out’ time for reading in a busy life, and last week a friend tweeted about me saying ‘She’s on Twitter and still finds time to read books, she’s awesome!’ I replied with a ‘Maybe that’s my superpower haha’ and wondered if it was true. And I am really awesome, no doubt about that, because over the years I have seen how the most crazy readers (people who refused to go out to the malls or for shopping because they had to finish a book) around me have turned into guilty weekend-readers, and yet I have somehow managed to maintain my frequency. Of course thing are different now with independent clients and crazy (I say it in a good way, in case any client reads this) campaigns and a husband who obviously loves me too much to let me sit alone, sipping a coffee and reading a book for more than half an hour – plus there is my so called social life on Twitter which is extremely demanding, among other things, but darlings, where there is a will, there is definitely a way. So for all of you who keep coming back to that pathetic theme of No Time To Read, I’m here to help.

Image Source: trixinity.net

Here are places and situations where I pick a book and read. Be inspired.

While making and having breakfast. Really. I think it’s pretty easy. If no one else can do it then maybe managing to read is my superpower after all. The thing is, while you fix yourself some quick breakfast, you can easily read a couple of pages of your book. Take for example, when the milk is boiling or when the omelette's cooking inside the microwave and the coffee is brewing inside the coffee maker – why not pick a book and immerse yourself in the magical fantasy world of Tolkien or Terry Pratchett? So what if your cereal turns a bit soggy or your eggs burn a little, it is all worth it because you are getting some time to read. Ta da!

During mail exchanges. We all work with people who want URGENT mail replies and sometimes we are these people – staring at our screens, tapping our fingers on the table, waiting for that oh-so-important email. To me, this happens at least once every day. But why waste those precious minutes when you can shed the restlessness by digging into some delicious stories by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni or some Nick Hornby and his dry humour. No harm, right? Also keeps your mind off the work stress for a while.

While on the treadmill. Sweating it out on the mechanical bitch? Make it sweet by learning to balance Langston Hughes’s collection of poems against the display and wohoo! Working out was never this fun! I love poetry during my runs because A.) I know it sounds crazy, but it keeps me focused and B.) this combination puts both mind and body at work. Real fun. Um. Okay, if poetry during a workout is not your idea of reading (which is really stupid and I hate you already), then maybe a copy of old Mills and Boons will do the trick for you, if you know what I mean. Now now, don’t you pretend you don’t like them or don’t have any, stashed at the back of your book shelf. I know you’re a fan of ‘real literature’ and you publicly cry at the death of literature whenever someone mentions the good old M&Bs, but come on, you can't deny its therapeutic qualities!

While watching your favorite show. The show is great and you love it, but why watch the lame commercials when Kazuo Ishiguro is there to sweep you away with his dreamy realism and his emotional tug-at-heart stories? So you miss a few seconds of your show and you feel a little disoriented at the beginning, but you’ll get used to it with some practice. Plus, having to re-read some parts written by your favorite author can’t be that bad, huh? TRY.

Anyway, I work from home now so no one gives a shit if I casually pick up a book during work hours. It’s quite liberating actually, if you compare it with the days when I kept books on my desk, staring lustily at them for hours without a chance to open them and when I finally did get a free moment, I would barely finish a page when my boss emerged out of her cabin asking for this report or that. Phew. But for those of you who are still in that position, ebooks stored on your phone are a brilliant tool. Go install a good app, download your favorite books, read them whenever possible (sutta breaks are perfect) and never ever say I don’t give you any good ideas.

Happy reading!

How to be an Attention Whore

2011-05-16T21:20:00.002+05:30

Remember there used to be a ‘How To’ series on this blog and how those blog posts are responsible for a major chunk of traffic on this blog even today? Yes. Its back after a long time – How to be an Attention Whore. *your cue to applaud*

What is an Attention Whore, some might ask. For starters, these people are the biggest attention whores themselves. Not only women, but a fat chunk of men also fall under the category. They are exceedingly annoying and painfully social creatures that often come across as mentally unstable due to their insatiable hunger for attention of all kinds, but in reality are far cleverer than what people give them credit for. I mean come on, it requires a lot of strategy and planning to click a zillion pictures of yourself from various angels, using your cell phone, in your favorite bathroom bulb lighting. She / he will consistently participate in questionable activities in order to receive even the most negligible amounts of attention at the most reprehensible, improper, gauche moments. Sounds vaguely familiar, huh?

And this is why it’s a tad risky subject to blog about – because most of you are already attention whores, no darlings?

Seriously, you are. Accept this as soon as possible because majority of you are attention whores, and the sooner you accept it, the sooner you can polish your talent and put it to some good use – like whatever good use attention whorishness can be put to. Yeah, go ahead, take the first step towards acceptance in the most trusted, fashionable and respected way - declare it on your Twitter / Facebook page. Now. Go!

Phew. So there goes more than half of my readership, the men and women who have infact inspired this post. Generally, attention whorishness has to come naturally to you, some kind of a God Gift, really. But with determination and efficient guidance, almost everyone can benefit a little. And thus, for a small fraction of you, who are too shy and/or too lame to figure it out for yourselves, I’m here for guidance.

I’ve studied the subject well enough (cough cough) and for ease of understanding, this post has been divided into various headings aka the Playing Grounds of your regular Attention Whore. Here we go:

Twitter

THE most important thing that will get you noticed is your Twitter handle. It is like your name in the Twitterverse, and some people who you might end up meeting in real life will insist on calling you by your twitter Handle for some reason. So, pick it with utmost care. Make sure to include impactful words like Bitch, Hot, 4U, Gal, Dude, Alcohol, Babe etc paired with a sexy fake name – sure shot way to stardom on twitter. However, if sexy isn’t your thing, add chocolate / Tempting / some Bollywood Movie phrase / Dope / Chick, and throw a random number just for the effect (which seems to work really well. Reason unknown). Other highly recommended ideas suitable for an attention whore’s Twitter handle are: Singlebabe_11, party_addict, vodka_expert, DevilLady, Brute4You and if nothing seems to impress you, then add ‘ism’ to your name and tweet away.

BTW, my Twitter handle is Adicrazy and I don't see anything wrong with that.

Next to your handle is your DP. To be a perfect attention whore, pick the one with the least clothes on, if you have the body and the guts. If not, girls can go for a halter top and hair on your face (primarily to hide it) or a picture in a mini skirt taken from a distance safe enough to maintain the illusion. If you can’t even do that – at which point you should almost give up on trying to be an attention whore, really – click a zoomed-in picture of your heavily khol-ed and mascara-ed eye. Yeah, it seems to work. Men can easily go for pictures taken in bars where the light is dim and your eyes are twinkling because of all the alcohol in you.

Now, on to the tweeting part – Often tweet to the effect of ‘No one loves me.’ Take credit for everything under the sun - good bad doesn't really matter - it's all about you in the end, isn't it? Tweet about random shit that no one understands, like ‘Oh fuck It’s happened again!’ Trust me, people will RT it like nobody’s business, some losers will even ask what’s bothering you and be genuinely concerned. Butt into a conversation two people are having about something you have no idea about and demand all their attention. Example:

Guy1 : Hey @guy2 How is your photography going dude?

Guy2: @guy1 Got an amazing new lens. Just covered a wedding in Mumbai, amazing fun :)

Attention Whore: @guy1 @guy2 I LOVE photography guys! Here is the link to my beach pictures Kisses!

Also, from time to time, tweet abuses at nobody in particular and rant about your loss of faith in love – major twitter magnets, such tweets.

The Power of Twitpic. Upload your pictures at every excuse and ask people what they think of your tee shirt/shirt today. Girls, tweet about how your high heels are making your butt look bigger. When people respond (and they will!) saying things like aww, not really and don’t worry your look great, promptly Twitpic a picture of your butt and ask them again. Instant stardom!

Twitter Bio. Again, very important. But don’t worry, just use one or several of our key words here as well, and you’ll cruise. Example Girl: ‘I AM A BITCH, DEAL WITH IT’. Example Man: ‘I Don’t Really Care. Fuck You.’

On Twitter there are loads of Orkutiyas who will send you fraandship requests via tweets. While the others just ignore it, you, dear upcoming Attention Whore, you RT every such tweet with a comment like, ‘Oh Gosh! Give me one good reason! J RT @FraanshipDude Hey, Wanna B Frandz?’

Okay this one’s fun - Stage a nasty bitch fight with another attention whore or a fake self made account and call each other names, abuse like there’s no tomorrow and get slutty. Example ‘bitch stole my bf and has totally slept with him’ Or ‘This fugly slut makes me want to rip her clothes, oops, head off’. Yeah, you can imagine what magic it creates on Twitter. They’ll love you or hate you, but at least they’ll talk about you and wohoo, mission accomplished! Obviously, later you can blame it on a hacked iPad or a compromised twitter account and, if you really don’t give a shit about thinking of excuses, just blame it on a crazy hangover. Don’t ask me, it has worked for people in the past!

Facebook

Most of the tactics for twitter work here as well. Just improvise a little, like upload atleast 5 pictures of yourself per day, in your bathroom mirror. That’s a good lighting plus people need to see your bathroom and that adorable tube of Babool toothpaste on the counter.

Join several logical groups on Facebook like ‘I love 2 sleep! Zzzzzz’, ‘Fuck Yeah, I Luv Mahself!’ and ‘Photogenic People of Facebook’. Say ‘Hi Peeps!’ on the wall of these groups.

Take intellectually challenging quiz like ‘What’s Your Most Attractive Body Part’, ‘What Attracts Girls/Boys Towards You The Most’ and ‘How Many People Have a Secret Crush on You?’ Publish the result on all your friend’s walls and invite them too – really, they’ll love it!

Blog

Blogs are a little outdated now, but no harm in utilizing it for whatever its worth, right? So, start a blog if you don’t already have one.

Blog only about yourself and how you’re a total party animal and how single you are.

Post song lyrics and your pictures to go with it, you know, just for the heck of it.

Tag all your posts with – yes, out key words again – Bitch, Babe, Dude, Sensational, Tempting, Alcohol, Dope, Chocolate so on and so forth.

Comment on other blogs saying ‘Hey doll, read my latest post at *give your link shamelessly* ’. Who cares what shit they’ve posted, just give them your link and get the hell out of there.

Okay everybody. This seems to be enough for now, tell me how you’re doing and I might dish out some more tips. Just maybe, okay? No promises. There are still things out there that I haven’t tried myself yet.*wink*

Ta!

Image source: someecards

A Friend That Was

2011-04-05T14:54:00.000+05:30

Dear Friend

This week is probably the most important week in your life and out of nowhere, I found myself thinking about you today, after all these days. I imagined your excitement, your tears and your immeasurable joy, and then quickly go on to ponder over the text message I will be sending you when I get the news. I have pretty much decided on - ‘Hey! Congratulations & God Bless. Love always – Aditi.’ Nice, crisp and apt, but not exactly a note you’d send a friend. Or should I call you an ex-friend, now that we don’t speak anymore? It’s funny how we always tend to use the word ‘ex’ for boyfriends alone. ‘My ex’ almost always means a past boyfriend, and never a friendship that was.

I wonder why.

Both are relationships that are important, than why does the ex-boyfriend gets so much more importance over a lost friendship? I wonder why we cry and mourn so much at the end of a relationship with a supposed ‘lover’ or an entirely phoney ‘The One’, and not feel a thing when a friendship dies. Okay, maybe we do feel a thing, a prick in the heart, or a faint disappointment – but we are experts in suppressing and ignoring it completely. Strange, don’t you think? Isn’t there some amount of love, some amount of attachment in friends too? Then why do we disregard it completely and claim to be ‘strong’ when a friend walks off our lives?

We have been good buddies, dear ex-friend. Well, as good as two hyper-girls in a same situation at the same time can be – experiencing, sharing and learning together. Didn’t really see the ups and downs together, we two, but we did have hour long calls and secret giggles. We did not experience each other’s teenage crushes, but we did understand that month long loneliness we both went through. You had no idea how passionate I was about my profession, but then you did know about my total lack of passion for cooking which is a secret to many.

I smile when I think of our dressing disasters together, our synchronized fuck-ups in the new culture that became our collective memories, and our futile gym sessions where we ate cookies together and then jumped on the tread mill to burn those calories instantly. A couple of crazy girls we were, two misfits trying to be a part of this new, almost foreign society.

I wonder what happened later. This enigmatic, foreign society taught us to be serious, maybe even less open, and we got lost somewhere in our own lives which were different now, geographically. I can’t be sure, but I think we started to trust less and blame easily. Maybe it was right too, who am I to say! Maybe one of us learned the lessons faster, leaving the other behind – or both of us learned different lessons and decided to follow them for our own good. Who can tell?

And now we are both happy in our lives, in our separate bubbles. Nothing has changed after we suddenly stopped talking, none of us tried to reach out and patch things up. “Just let it be, it’s for the good.” – I’m sure we have both been told, and we believed it. We carried on; this was just another hitch in the road of life. No tears were shed – no loss acknowledged. Two strong women going their own way, doing their own thing and not breaking the rhythm of life by dwelling on tiny little things.

That’s how it’s supposed to be, right?

But what do we do about the friendship that was? Bury it deep and never think about it? Leave it in that one moment in the past, and never go back? Or carry it around like a tiny pebble in our pocket that our palms feel but our fingers can’t quite hold?

I’m sure we will meet again dear ex-friend; it’s a small world after all. I think I’ll be cordial with you then, flash a warm smile and hope hard to be rescued by someone to avoid any conversation. And you? Probably the same as me, yes. But all this while we’ll know what that twitch of the mouth means and will try hard not to giggle on a certain hair-do and a million things. We will be pros at avoiding our natural behaviour by then, I suppose. Later on, we will think about each other before going to bed, only for a few seconds, before we realize it’s useless and will shrug the thought off. We’ll carry on with our lives, not thinking about a friend that was.

And so here I am, saying what none of us will ever think consciously about –that I might have not cried or even actually been sad at the addition of the word ‘Ex’ to your name in my life, but I still sometimes think of our good times together and smile.

I hope you smile too, when you think of those times.

With love

An ex-friend.

I'll See You

2011-02-27T02:22:00.000+05:30

This post is one of Blogadda's Tangy Tuesday Picks :) The rooms are cold

The books, dusty

There’s a slice of pizza on the table

The window sill is cold against my cheek

And the rain, merciless outside.

The last cigarette flickers

And dies

The coffee sits on the table

Like a black marble, cold and still.

I tap my fingers, bite my lips.

There’s work on my computer

There’s a list to follow

Mails, memos, calls to make.

But I read the sticky note on the fridge instead –

Your sexy slanting scribble

‘Love you!’ and a doodle of two hearts

Intertwined.

I look around th house

The walls, our pictures.

I have been here too long now

Waiting, planning, worrying

for days that come and go

Never enough.

I trace my finger on your tanned face -

the picture from the beach

And I have to see you now

So I get up

And head out in the chilly rain

Lock the door, take the cab.

You may be hours away,

But they are going to end

And when the rain stops

I’ll see you.

Random Conversations in the Ladies Room

2011-01-06T14:45:00.000+05:30

One thing I've discovered in life is that the Ladies Rooms are always the best places to hear / eavesdrop / contribute / get dragged in random conversations. Most of them are funny but they can also come in the funny-what-the-hell, funny-weird, weird-but-comfortable, funny-uncomfortable variety. You can enjoy all of it, but you should always, I repeat, ALWAYS stay clear from the weird-uncomfortable-and-gross Ladies Room conversations, trust me. Anyway, I am convinced that one of my purposes on Earth is to become a Ladies Room Conversation expert. Really. I have had and/or been subjected to so many weird Ladies Room conversations in my life that it was only fair to make it a separate tag on the blog and start reporting it. Um. Actually I've already reported one crazy incident in this post that still gets a lot of traffic (people love weird, I tell ya) Here is the recent one. Read it and tell me if there was anything more I could have done to help these girls - you know, for future references. Ladies Room, Metropolitan Mall, Gurgaon. Fat 16-something girl with short hair, looking at the mirror: "....and he asked me out. Just like that." Skinny 16-something girl, applying sparkle-pink lip color: "He's kidding with you, you know?" Fat 16-something girl with short hair, looking at the mirror: "Naw. He asked me out in front of Nick." Skinny 16-something girl, applying another coat of sparkle-pink lip color: "Duh. Nick is his best buddy. It's a joke. Or worse, it could be a bet. It's a bet, I'm sure." Fat 16-something girl with short hair, now looking at me: "Can it be a bet?" Me: "Sorry?" Skinny 16-something girl, now addressing me: "It totally is a bet, you know? You can't trust guys, right?" Me: "Erm..." Fat 16-something girl with short hair, now standing on my right, looking at me: "I think he's not kidding." Me: "Okay." Skinny 16-something girl, walking to the hand dryer on my left, looking at me: "Trust me. I have known him longer." Fat 16-something girl with short hair, to me in intimate, confiding tone: "She likes him too." Me: "Oh!" Skinny 16-something girl, to me: "She's kidding." Fat 16-something girl with short hair, to me: "I'm not. She likes him. She told me herself." Skinny 16-something girl, to me in an annoyed tone: "Oh please. That's history." Fat 16-something girl with short hair, to me in a whisper: "Two months back." Skinny 16-something girl, to me in a high pitch voice: "See? History." Me: "Um. I should go." Fat 16-something girl with short hair: "Toodles!" Skinny 16-something girl: "Later!"

Of Books, Clients, Couples and Other Unrelated Things

2010-12-10T15:59:00.000+05:30

Please note that I will be referring to the couple as a singular entity in this post, for two stupids together maketh a stupid couple.

So.

How stupid can the couples get? And by couples I mean NOT the married kind, like yours truly, or the serious couples who intend to stay together, but the dating and ‘taking things slow’ and ‘seeing where it goes’ kind. Ugh. The thing with such couples is they are way too predictable. For my liking anyway. It’s annoying, even maddening to be around a couple these days. First, these days they come in special nauseating variety that takes the entire concept of PDA to a whole new level of gross. Second, they lie about how they met. Jeez! Why somebody would do that, is beyond my scope of understanding. A couple recently told me over a glass of wine, that met at a painting exhibition in Mumbai, which is a grand lie. I know because the girl saw the guy in one of the conferences in Delhi and asked me (I was in the same conference too, yes) to get his number so that she could dial a ‘wrong number’ and talk to him. Cheap trick, but I helped and two months later this is what they tell me. She probably thinks I have amnesia of the thousandth degree and I don’t remember her drooling over him and two other guys in that conference. I stared at her for like, 5 seconds, giving my best wide eyed look, but she just smiled and clutched the guys hand with affection. I emptied my entire glass in one gulp.

Then there’s this guy I know from work, who started dating his girlfriend’s best friend recently, and the how-we-met-each-other story they go around telling is that they met at work - she was the client and he, the account manager at the ad agency. Would have been cute, if it was true. I mean, I understand if he feels a tad embarrassed to tell random people that he first cheated and then ditched his previous girl for her best friend, but lying to someone who has received phone calls from your hysterical ex trying to find out what went wrong, is a bit of a stretch. Really.

And this is not all, I know loads of such bright and / or delirious couples who go on and on about a totally fake story of how they met. What is interesting though, is the length to which they are willing to go and make a story up. Sometimes you see genius calculated planned story that covers all loopholes, at other times you witness a lot of imagination and Bollywood-y fantasy in the stories. You smile and nod politely. And of course there are the lazy-ass couples who don’t make any effort in trying to think of something even remotely believable even to a complete stranger – and then some who just produce a different story every time they are asked – Hey, how did you two meet dude?

Liars, that’s what they are. My theory is:

If they say ‘Our Parents introduced us, you know!’ - they actually met while lurking on an online matrimony site

If they say ‘We are childhood sweethearts!’ – they actually met through friends who set them up on blind dates

If they say ‘We met at a conference’ - they actually met at a random party when they were both drunk

If they say ‘We met through common friends’ – they actually met at a bar where each one had gone looking for lowe

If they say ‘We met at a bar’ – they actually met online which could be one of those chat rooms, or Orkut even, you know, because studies have revealed that about 9% of people on Orkut aren’t psychos who want to call u for a meet and then kill / rape you, so there’s no need to be such haters, you guys. Jeez! *rolls eyes*

And , if they say ‘We met online’, then either she is a hooker or he is a male-hooker, you know.

True story.

My conclusion is –stop believing what they say about how they met each other. That is, if you care as much as I do about these lame couples. I mean you could just not give a fuck and be happy, right? Seriously, why do I give a damn about it, again?

Whatever.

Before I end this topic here, I have to say that rare as they are, there exist couples who don’t care about the world and what people think about them. There are people in love and for them, love is all that matters. I’d like to write about them sometimes, too. But then I’m the one who was once fondly known as the Anti Love Guru, so what do I know, eh?

Moving on to the next unrelated topic - clients. Lately the clients have been driving me crazy. C.R.A.Z.Y. This week especially sucked big time and the only reason I can think of to not throw my hand up and run away screaming is that I have it better than those people repairing my tin roof every day. Them and the dead people – I am better off than both I guess. So that’s a relief.

Somehow I am always working and there are days when I can barely log-in to my Twitter and see if some one’s missed me. Lame, I know. But that’s not the point here – the point is, I have somehow managed to get neck deep in work even while working from home on my own clients. My. Own. Clients. Remember all those times when I cried ‘Freedom!’ when I had just stopped working full time? You’d think I’ll keep in under control now with no boss, my own rules and my own clients. No sir. I have completely lost it and I am constantly slogging my ass off.

Um. This is where I stop discussing work – I have a feeling a couple of clients secretly love my blog and we don’t want to upset a reader now, do we? On to books now. I haven’t read a single book, let alone complete one, for about a zillion years now. No, really! I started reading ‘The Ladies No.1 Detective Agency’, smiling at the thin book every time I picked it up thinking ‘Oh I’ll finish this baby in 3 days.’.

It’s been a month.

And to clear doubts, it is not a bad book in anyway. It’s not brilliant, but come on, I’ve read a few crass Indian attempt at chick-lit for Gossake! In my good days, I would have finished at least 4 books by now. Now you see how much I’m missing out on because of ~~stupid~~ work?

Anyway, I finally got the perfect escape Blogadda asked me if I would judge a contest for them, called ‘My Oldest Book and its Memories. ‘Affirmative!!’ I shouted and click-clicked my way to the contest page. Blogadda, along with Friends of Books had created a contest so delicious, that I kicked myself mentally for not participating in it. All I had to do was dig out my oldest book (which BTW, is older than me by almost a decade), write about the memories attached to it (Stealing it from my uncle one summer afternoon when I was 9) and who I’d give it to (no one) and if possible, post a picture of the oldie but goodie book. But the well established fact by now is, I was buried in ~~stupid~~ work.

After reading more than 30 blog posts by a really talented lot, I was kind of relieved I didn’t participate. I picked out the winners and wondered about the state of Indian Publishing Industry. Hmm. There must be a deep deep DEEP reason why, despite having a pool of such unmatched talent on the blogsphere, we are only publishing the really inane ones. Maybe it’s a conspiracy by aliens to invade the planet. Can’t think of any other reason, really.

The Trouble With Dreams

2010-12-03T18:20:00.000+05:30

Is that they are not real.

And no matter how much you want to believe in them (in order to make them come true like the old saying goes), some are just too silly to believe in. Don’t know about you, but realizing that the silly ones will probably never come true, makes me want to pout and sulk. Like the dream I had last night. I was swimming in a river of noodles – mainly the regular spaghetti type with an occasional Pad Thai (the flat ones). I was doing pretty good, considering the fact that I cannot swim in real life. I think the aliens taught me to swim, because they were cheering me from the other side of this river. Just when I was about to touch the banks, the aliens got angry and threw three blackboards at me. I laughed, stupid aliens. But then Lily (from How I Met Your Mother) said “You can have all my clothes if you swim some more.” And we high-five each other standing on the bus top.

This is when I woke up, I think, because I said to myself – Dude, Lily has awesome clothes but where am I going to keep the black boards? Confusing? You bet! Amidst all the turmoil and confusion, I find myself repeating the line of a poem I once read.

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

Phew. It is an exhausting experience, this bizarre dreams throughout the night thing. Yes, for some reason my sleep is ALWAYS crowded with dreams. Black and white, 3-D, Third person, aerial view invisible-me and some more – I dream in all formats possible. It’s a part of me, and I don’t complain anymore because most of these dreams are crazy fun. But like I said, the trouble is they will never come true. And you’ll agree if you I tell you a little about these dreams.

You are standing in a huge green field, smiling. You start to run, to feel the air in your hair and your best friend in class 4 runs with you, holding hands. She begins to pant and you stop for a glass of water but the animated dog is also hungry so you give your water to him. He flies away after licking your face. Your friend nudges you and turn toward her, only to see Jude Law eating a bar of chocolate. Maybe he’s hungry. You shrug.

You are burning down a old house but it starts to rain. Rudy, the scary T-Rex from Ice Age - 3 also looks upset. Your husband holds your hand and says, “I am sorry, but I had to make it rain because we are going to Rome and they need water.” You nod, People in Rome are more important. You relax and read the newspaper. It says that the book is awesome and you smile.

Dobby is adamant not to step away from your hair dryer. You get angry and want to push him, but you don’t want to touch him, he’s kind of creepy. So you throw the remote control on his head and Jack Sparrow comes to his rescue. Sarah Jessica Parker says “It’s so cute” and picks up Dobby. She runs and her deep blue dress trails behind her. You look at her in horror, the dress is a treasure! And you should not look back because Jack Sparrow has summoned the girl in green shorts from TC, Priya, Delhi, and you wouldn’t want to laugh at her on her face, right? You walk away.

You are standing on the roof of your school, looking over the Mumbai Sea-link. It’s so beautiful, you dig out your phone from the huge orange bag and go to the camera. You take a crooked picture of the London Bridge and jump off the roof and fly, going up up and up in the blue sky. You land on a nearby mountain and break your 5 inch heel. ‘This is a bad dream’ - you think and fly towards the huge Book store. The aliens are getting out of the rectangular space ship. The tiny one waves at you. You ignore it. You don’t trust aliens.

Your internet is not working. You crib about it to Gandalf but he is busy eating the cookies you baked. You go to an Army party with your husband and they serve gummy bears. You hold the warm hand of your husband and chew on the red gummy bear happily.

Hello! I Work From Home.

2010-11-01T21:59:00.000+05:30

Yes. I’m so cool. I work from home on my own clients. And when I started with my very first client, I was overwhelmed with pride and immediately made a list of all the great things about working from home. I also showed-off majorly to everyone who cared to listen. Most of the people in the Army don’t really understand and / or give a damn about ‘Digital Media’ and 'Social Media’, but I yapped endlessly about how awesome it is. Well, that was when I was new at it.

Yeah. That phase has thankfully passed me now, as a year later I have discovered the flip side to working from home. Well, I’m not really upset at the discoveries because you know, all things have a flip side (Why God Why!!). I’m just a bit disappointed because while I was working full time, I secretly had a major grudge against all those who worked as consultants, free from all evil things like a boss, office hours and office bitches (remember my office fat bitch who almost ruined my work-life? If not read this post here).

Hmm. So I’ve made two lists – the amazing and the terrible sides of working from home. Here we go:

The Terrible –

You make your own coffee.
No Gossip to take the stress of work away.
You don’t get a feeling of achievement after spending 20 minutes in the washroom or at a coffee break.
No satisfaction of making looooong phone calls from the work phone. Better still, the office land line.
No fun in pretending your laptop has crashed, and taking data - backup is no more an excuse to loiter around.
No one to blame your silly mistakes on (Damn).
Considerable degradation of social skills.
No more invitations to hot parties.
No free goodies from Yahoo!, Google and the likes (This I really miss!)

The Amazing –

There is no Office. NO - OFFICE! (Say it aloud once, its liberating!)
No Office Politics for you to get unwillingly or stupidly involved in, like when you are innocently informing your colleague about how your bitch-of-a-supervisor is secretly having an affair with the overweight-and-arrogant-yet-cute AVP, and your super boss hears every word. Not your fault, I know - dangerous nonetheless.
No Boss to boss you around. Suddenly you feel like you own the world.
No waking up early OR not having to face your outraged boss for arriving late. (I have signed the office register in red pen a zillion times, I know how it feels)
No dressing up – you can work in your cute red shorts and the power-puff girls faded Tee
No traveling to the office
Not getting traffucked on the roads
No colleagues to interrupt your work (or your Facebook and YouTube session)
Eating out reduced drastically, you eat healthier food.
Sense of ownership. You are the boss of you!
Pride. If the campaign / client does well, the glory is all yours!

And the last point pretty much makes up for everything negative. Honest.

There you go. Both sides of the coin. Now decide what do you want for yourself.

One Year Already?

2010-09-27T13:01:00.001+05:30

Feels like yesterday when we first met – I still wish I’d worn better clothes and higher heels.

I often giggle as I remember the formal ‘Hey! Ssup..’ texts we sent each other for a week after meeting – and shiver remembering the first time we used the L word, months later.

I still think of you as my secret boyfriend – I doubt anyone would have believed me if I told them anyway.

I almost faint every time I see you in your super HOT combat uniform, which is, well, everyday – it’s something that hasn’t yet ceased to have this effect on me.

No matter how much you try to tell me that ‘Eight days a Week’ is OUR song because you played it for me numersously - I still think my song for you is ‘I’m Gonna Getcha Good’

You still hate chick flicks and I still cannot stand all-action movies, You hate 'Sex and The City' and I don't find '30 Rock' all that interesting - but we find peace in 'Modern Family' and love sharing butter popcorn .

Our long-drive-in-the-middle-of-the-night ritual is still followed – and many times I feel a rush inside on realizing that we’ll go together in the same house even after the drive is over.

I throw a fit if you use my towel – but I secretly use yours when you are away for weeks, and tell myself its only this once.

I am still getting used to being addressed by your name – I write it down a hundred times and stare at it with a smile.

I still resent the non-stop cricket and/or football on TV – but I cannot watch the Hollywood gossip without you by my side to discuss it.

I still frown when you interrupt my kitchen-humming with your own version of the song - But I love your innovative lyrics and I sing not the original, but your version most of the times.

I still get nervous and shut up for a moment every time your mom calls when we are together – And then I realize, she knows I’m there, we’re married. (heehee)

Sometimes I think we’ve been together for ages – but most of the times it feels like we are just getting started.

Last September seemed an happy ending to a dream, this September it is still like living a dream.

I love you more and more, each day – for all the moments, hours and days spent in love – and I can’t yet believe it is one year already!

Plight of a Constant Traveler

2010-09-13T16:19:00.000+05:30

“I think the constant traveling is getting to me.” I grudgingly admit to my husband, who gives me his charming whatever-you-say smile and returns to unpacking our books. We are in our new house in a small town on the borders of Arunanchal and Assam. The view from the windows is breathtaking – It is raining and there’s a tree plantation right next to my house. I sigh as I look at it from the window.

I was always the Travel Addict, romancing the idea of nomadic life. When I was single, I traveled a lot more than the ‘regular’ people around me. The fact that my frequent flier miles were sometimes more than the balance in my bank account, proves my point. I’ve traveled alone a lot of times and I enjoyed the rush it gave me – single-girl-with-a-backpack image was something I loved. I’ve spent weeks wandering around Singapore all on my own. I’ve partied hard in Malaysia and have developed allergies eating street food with a couple of girl friends who share the urge to explore the world, the freedom to just pack and leave on an impulse. I’ve traveled for fun, for vacationing, for even escaping. Always on the run, and it has been exhilarating. There were times when I used to go through a few months of work and daily hum drum of life just to gather enough funds to fly to the next destination. Plane journeys, train tickets, new culture, exotic food and far away beaches used to engulf my mind all the time.

Recently thing changed. Both of us travel a lot because of our work. Initially it was super exciting because both of us are complete travel junkies. He took me to Andaman Islands for honeymoon and to several not-quite-well-known hill stations and beaches suddenly, blaming it on his travelust. I wasn’t complaining at all! When we got married, the perpetual long term travel was always at the back of my mind, as an extra perk to marrying the man I love.

Travel is still amazing and it has all its excitements and joys, but what I realize now is that earlier we were two single people – living out of a suitcase was fancy and more importantly, easy. Post wedding traveling is a lot different, especially when it is a long term travel. This is the fourth time we’ve shifted houses in two years – four entirely different places in opposite corners of the country. And I hate to admit it, but I wish the travel was a little less, that life was a little more stable – home wise and people wise.

Every time we go to a new place, settle down in a new house, I throw myself into the decoration, interiors, exploring the new place, meeting new people and buying goldfish as an attempt to embrace the stability while it lasts. And before I know it, it’s time to move.

It’s amazing how no one ever tells us about the potential down sides of constant traveling. I recently came across Bernard Shaw’s quote – “I hate to feel at home when I’m abroad” and I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. The fact that there is no permanent home to go back to and ‘feel at home’ is quite disconcerting. Sure, the houses we take up at each destination are quickly stacked with old photographs, decorated with souvenirs from our various travel destinations and filled with the friendly fragrance of warm coffee – but we know that all of this will be soon moving to a different place, a different house and the feeling is just not ‘homely’.

Constant moving has affected our appetite for travel adversely and ‘taking a break’ now stands for anything but packing. Don’t get me wrong, we still take vacations to exotic places, but the frequency has reduced a lot. So how did our travels lost excitement, I often ask myself. The main reason I think is that we have managed to somehow, turn pleasure into business. This long term travel is now a part of the Job Description and this is what kills the excitement . None of my friends seem to understand my plight – being able to cover the entire world for work seems like a brilliant idea from the outside. Yet it has its side effects. The first thing I hate about long term travel is the constant good byes. You strike a friendship, build relationships and then you leave. It is heartbreaking how I have to start over again and again with everything from knowing the neighbors, familiarizing myself with the book-shops, giving tips to the lady at the beauty salon and even in finding a house-help. These seemingly tiny relationships are the most important ones that give you a sense of belonging – and I have to leave before I can really belong.

Old friends and people who are important to me have learned to live their lives without me most of the times, they adapt. It really sucks. And I can’t even begin on the exercise of packing and unpacking your entire life in boxes. I’ve ODed on emotions every time I wrap things up to go to a new home. A permanent gym membership and a lot of potted plants don’t seem like a bad idea anymore.

Before I wrap this up, please understand that I am not trying to downplay traveling – I still love to travel, its wonderful. My point is how can you appreciate travel if you don’t take a break from it every once in a while. Some might say that the key is not to get too emotionally involved with places and people, but I wonder if that is possible. Tolkien’s words are doing rounds in my mind right now – “Not all who wander are lost” and I believe it. I know I’m not lost even if I feel lost a lot of times. Maybe I’m not done with the road yet, maybe this restlessness is just a phase and I’ll start to love it eventually.

Meanwhile, the unpacking continues.

Is Being Too Nice Making You Sick?

2010-09-01T16:47:00.000+05:30

Being too nice is so not me. I’m someone who is always herself and who is best at misbehaving. I have admitted a lot of times that there are times when I not only enjoy being bitchy, but I feel healthy. Seriously, you have to trust me on this – being a little bitchy really does wonder to your health. And I totally love my health, ha! I’d rather make fun and giggle and gossip, than make an effort at begin too nice to please people. But adult life has quite a many glitches (I hate adult life!) and there are a lot of times when one HAS to put up a face and BEHAVE. Lately the same has been happening to me.

People sharing my dessert on the pretext of ‘just tasting’ , sipping from my drink because they want to ‘try’ it, requesting me to step down the treadmill in between my run because they have ‘kids waiting at home’ and people telling me very fake-polite way how they find it strange that I am always giggling. For a long time, I just smiled, nodded or and said something lame lie ‘Sure’ or ‘why not’ or ‘Lucky Me!’ – but now I’m growing tired of all this feign congeniality.

So I’ve started substituting all the over nice-ness with the real reaction that comes to my mind. Of course I’m not advocating out right rudeness – I’m just reminding myself and you that it isn’t mandatory to be nice all the time.

So, is being nice making you sick too?

Bitch it up a bit.

Here’s what I did.

When someone at the gym asked me – for the fifth time in row - to step down the tread mill because she is ‘only waiting to finish her run here and leave urgently for home’ – I told her with a mock polite tone that I have a home too and it tends to get lonely when I don’t get there in time. And then I shoved the iPod ear plug in my ears and continued to run. Sure, she gave me a weird look but she went away. ‘Went away’ is the key point here. I can forget about her worrying me in the gym again because for her, I’m the ‘Rude Bitch’ now. Whatever.

At the showroom where I was the first in the line for a changing room and a girl came up saying she has ‘just one item’ to try on and can she have a go before me, I blinked twice and said “I’m sorry honey! But why don’t you go ahead and pick some more items while I ‘have a go at it’?” She got the point and stood in the line after rolling her eyes a lot of times.

At a party, when an acquaintance asked if it was okay if she took a sip from my drink because she was an out and out ‘Vodka with Orange Juice’ girl but wanted to taste my Cosmopolitan – I took a deep breath and said, “Oh honey, I’d love to but I think I’m coming done with something.” I paused and coughed a little, “Is Swine Flu still a big thing?” She left me alone for the rest of the evening, thankfully.

And last but the most-important-to-me thing is when someone has the balls to tell me that I giggle too much. I giggle too much, damn right! But how dare some creep say that like its a bad thing? In such situations I suggest you just say the meanest thing that comes to your mind. Really. I mean, last I checked, being happy was a good thing and it’s your bloody business anyway. Here’s what happened to me during my Business School years -A guy who I knew as a pathetic someone who was dating a classmate who already had a 7 year long boyfriend who once came to the college to bash him up (yes, things like this happen!) was looking at me in the class. “What?” I asked. “Why are you always giggling?” He asked me point blank with an annoyed expression. After like a split second of shock, I threw my hair back, smiled brightly and said – “Really? I wonder why? Maybe because I’m not scared of my girlfriend’s REAL boyfriend beating me up every time I step out of the college? Hmph?” Everyone in the class cracked up and he got back to paying attention to the wall in front of him. Served him right, right?

So there you go, just stop being too nice-y nice. It ain’t worth it. Once again, BITCH IT UP!

Saturdays should be fun, no?

2010-08-07T10:46:00.000+05:30

Yes. Saturdays should be fun. When I was single and was living my shit-deep-in-work life in Gurgaon, I almost always planned my Saturdays with great care. Saturday is the most important day in the weekend. A Friday get over in a frenzy, a euphoria of getting into another weekend just eats up the entire Friday evening, I've noticed. A Sunday morning goes in mourning about the approaching Monday and Sunday nights are mostly kept aside for self-pity or job-hating. But Saturday is something different, it comes with a promise of freedom. I love Saturdays! Now since I'm mostly working from home, thing have changed a bit - like absolutely no place to 'accidentally' forget my laptop while going home from work and then not be able to work for the weekend, sadly. Plus there is this Army party circle (The husband's an Army Officer, did I tell you before?) that has some sort of a party and / or dinner going on almost every day of the weekend. Just FYI, these parties are seldom interesting, mostly pretty blah. Infact I think I should dedicate an entire post on these Army Parties. Hmm, I shall do it soon. Coming back to Saturdays, today is entirely my day. There is not much work today, for a change. The house-hold stuff like cooking etc will be out-sourced. There is no b-o-r-i-n-g army party this weekend, though I'm hosting a lunch tomorrow so Sunday is pretty much gone in the kitchen. But today I'm going to make it a fun day at any cost. I started early in the morning when the husband woke me up with breakfast queries and I sweetly ordered some yummy south Indian food from the officer's mess. And I've ordered yummy food for the entire day. For this evening, fuck my diet! After breakfast I finished a painting my husband had made last week, and had set it to dry, by scribbling my name at the bottom. Oh, scratch that! After breakfast I finished a painting I made and its adorable. Yay! Okay so next is a movie marathon where I get to see chic flicks and he'll watch that lame test match with Sri Lanka in between breaks. I am also going to make a lot of lists today, of stuff that's important, like 'Plans for next Saturday', and lists of stuff that is super important as well as fun, like 'Top ten dresses I need from this months' Cosmo'. You know what, lists are the mark of an organized woman. You should make lots of lists and plan your day, prioritize your work. Lists make you competent and sometimes, it has happened to me, a list help you know your inner desiers. Like this one time, when I was making a list of come-backs and hard hitting one liner for my fat ass bitchy ex boss, I wrote down 'gag her with her frizzy hair' as the last point. See? This told me that I really hated her. Hmm. So loads of lists today. Infact, here is a list I already made which is both important and fun.

Things I'd never want to listen:

Your name still comes up at work whenever something goes horribly wrong and we don't want to take the blame
Your Internet shorthand took me so long to comprehend
You'd merit very kind words in my suicide note
You've lost your fire
Sorry for having fun without you

Things I'd love to say:

Long story short, I'm right and all of you are wrong
I feel like I practically know you because of your ear-splitting phone conversations
I own you, like Literally
With a dressing sense like that, I don;t think I'd like to be seen in public with you
You offend me with your horrible taste
I'm glad we share an understanding that I'm slightly smarter. And funnier.
I picked up a fight just for the makeup sex
I rule. No, really.

And since I am in Assam now and I want to tell you how B.E.A.Utiful this place is, I'm sharing a couple of pictures I clicked from my phone. The first is Brahmaputra river, the mighty, awe inspiring river of the north east, while we were waiting for a ferry. The second is a Rail-Road bridge which is the only route to the river from where I live. Yes, It is a common bridge for Trains as well as other vehicles. Adventurous, right? Hmm. So by writing this post and posting the pictures successfully, I've crossed one item each from my 'Must Do Today Without Fail' and 'Flaunt your Skill to People' lists. I'll see you guys very soon with a post about the famous Army Parties and the blunders involved. Ta!

The stupid stuff I did at work

2010-06-04T16:40:00.000+05:30

Some of you might not know it, but I am no more working full time in the advertising agency that I used to. I am a free lancer now - with way too less stress and lesses work. I'm living my dream life, yes! I mean working from home alone, making my own coffee every time I need it and not having anyone to blame a bad performing campaign on is kinda fun sometimes. No, really. um. Okay. Not really. But the love fills up all kinds of voids in my life now. So, its a dream life.

So I have a brand new schedule now, as opposed to the 10 to whenever-the-work-gets-over timing. Some days I am busy as a bee, but some days I have so much time to kill that I cant think of anything to do with it. I used to kill some amount of time when I was a full time working girl as well but none of the 'then' techniques seem to work in my 'now' situation - which brings me to my topic - The Stupid Stuff I Did At Work to kill time. Here's a list of things I used to do to kill time while in the office. Some are the good old tricks from ancient times and some are invented by me. Some need no skill whatsoever, while some require meticulous planning and excellent maneuvering. Here's hoping these will benefit some of my less creative friends -

0. Games - from the all season hit solitaire to the more advanced LAN games. This used to be a trick in the early 2000. Sadly, it is no more a trick now (that why it is numbered zero) - it is a professional suicide now. Don't do it. Don't play games in office unless you are in the IT industry. Those guys are allowed to, I am told. (I hate those guys)

Spend a lot of time by the coffee/tea vending machine. Examine cups and frown, then shrug and carry on. Once in a while demand on changing the milk powder or coffee brand because you are allergic to it. Once or twice, claim to have seen cockroaches inside the machine. (Just FYI, those machines do have cockroaches in the milk powder and sugar slots. Check it for yourself.)
Take a notepad and scribble all the catch phrases your colleagues say all the time - remember they must be relevant to your JD. A few examples from my list were "Do you think the client will buy this idea?", "We need a revolutionary ad this time!", "The client doesn't know what he wants", "This brand needs to be reinvented" blah blah. Just keep writing. You'll look busy, it is damn entertaining and if someone leans in to read it, he'll suspect nothing.
Ask your admin guy to take the backup of your data on regular basis. This is good, healthy and an innocent time killing trick.
Open and excel sheet and without naming it , just start random calculations on it with some big numbers. To add the 'reality' touch, do different type of calculations like percentages and fractions and oh yes, you can even do what I did this one time - make a table of random numbers and then make a colorful pie chart out of that table. After long minutes of staring at it and changing colors, give it a generic title - like 'The Market Leaders' or 'The Market Giants'.
Pick up a jaded, done to death topic and start a discussion with your office spokes person. The office spokes person is a person who thinks its his right to voice his opinion on every matter inside the office premises- from what clients to take and who to hire and fire, to what should the boss wear. There's always one in every office. This trick requires energy and you cannot do something you want to do instead, but it sure kills time.
Go to the conference room or any secluded place with your laptop, telling everyone who cares to listen that you are on a tight deadline and have to think of a new, innovative and exciting idea for a client or something. This works every time except for when your boss walks in to see the progress so far. For this situation, I suggest you Google a few lame ideas already and keep them handy. Also, if there is a white board in the room, draw some intricate looking line diagrams or an algorithm with generic terms and labels. This method need planning.
Then there are the very basic tricks like talking on the phone, pretending to talk to a client and walking out of the office or inside a empty room, going for ciggi breaks even if you don't smoke, spending too much time in the washrooms (works only if you are a girl), 'accidental' laptop crash (you know what I mean, *wink*), etc etc etc...

Actually, I have forgotten a few tricks, what a pity. But yeah, I can tell you this - whatever you do, just makes sure you do it whole heartedly. No point doing it otherwise. You have to enjoy it, not be scared of it, you know? I'll update more pointers and please suggest me if you have an exceptionally good work-all-the-time kind of a trick.

I'll wrap this up quickly as soon as I flaunt my latest award. Yay! Thanks a ton to Surbhi from Over a Cup of Coffee for this cute thing and hugs to her for choosing me (Smart choice, must sa

y!Heehee) And there are rules for this award - simple ones like put the badge on your blog with the name and link of the person who awarded it to you And tag 5 to 10 blogger friends. So here's my award.

I tag:

Sam, Geet, Gunj, Tat Sat, Kenny and Darshak

Toodles!

PS: This post featured in Blogadda 's Spicy Saturday Picks. Those good chaps at Blogadda loved these tricks, ahem. *wink*

Books, anyone?

2010-05-01T15:35:00.000+05:30

Haven't I said 749 times here that I love books? well, this is the 750th time I'm saying it. I love Books. Now don't confuse it with reading. You see, reading and book are different but when one says 'I love Books!' most people tend to assume he's referring to reading.

Yes. Yes. Of course I love reading a lot too. But my love for books, the fragrance of paper and the feeling of a hardcover story in my hands is much much MUCH more. Some might say it's a case of possessiveness gone wild, but I love to buy book, to own them. I've even stolen a few book from people when I was in school. A lot, actually. Never been caught, though. My school might still have those 3 Nancy Drew books listed as 'missing' , haha.

It is strangely offensive to me when people say no one read anymore. Worse is the case of children who either are too burdened by the school books, or are too busy watching crap on TV. I mean, shin shan? Hello? I've seen kids who consider themselves avid readers because they read a lot of text messages and menus at the various junk food joints. Sad, I know.

Anyway, I came across this interesting activity on the webpage of an online book store from where I buy (every month) AND rent (sometimes) book, called Friends of Books. It is called the Book Shot, and its fun. I've done it already and I'm sharing it with here, for anyone who loves book and/or reading. There's a nice gift voucher for buying book for the winner. Yeah. And oh, please drop me a line if you participate and I'll get to see what my blogging friends look like - the ones who haven't put up their picture. Here goes!

Here’s how-

1. Pick a book. Could be a new book or an old favorite. One that you recently picked up, borrowed or one that has been in your shelf since you were 3.

2. Click (or have clicked) a photo of you reading the book just like FriendsOfBooks profile picture . Like this..

3. Share the picture with us by posting it on theFriendsOfBooks Facebook page.

How?

Just go to the rectangular box where you usually type in comments. Click on the photo icon beneath it and attach the picture. Simple!

Maximum “Like” hits on your photo makes you the winner!

You've all got what you want - a book (or a newspaper even, to add a little more fun, ha), a camera or a camera phone, and who isn't on Facebook now? Hmm? So go, click click.

I'm living with a guy.

2010-03-25T19:16:00.001+05:30

I have been long gone.

Longer than ever. I mean I have had mood swings, nothing-to-write-about days and no-time-for-the-blog stretches before, but this has been my longest no writing span ever. And so much has happened while I was away from my blog that kept me crazy busy in a forgetting-everything-else-that-exists way that when I finally wanted to write again, I couldn't decide what to report, where to start. *breathes in*

There's so much, so so SO damn much to write about that I cannot do it in one go. I had to settle on writing about it in pieces. Wokay? I'll start with the biggest update. I'm living with a guy. No kidding. Me, yes. With a guy. Remember my staying in a apartment in Gurgaon all on my own for 3 years? Well, that is past tense. I have moved in with a guy now, yes, serious 'moving in'. I have had a thing for him for quite some time, but when he finally asked, I - like a typical stupid lovelorn girl I didn't know I could be- couldn't remember how to speak. I did nod, though. So that was it.

It's been full 6 months now (OMG, that's how long I've been NOT writing! My baby, my first love, me darlin' blog - please dont give up on me, I am still the same person.) and I think I now qualify as an expert on the subject of living with a guy and its quirks. *smile*

Quirks, yes, like wanting to watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S when he wants to watch some soccer match in an entirely different country. Like me not letting the spongy slippers get wet while in the washroom and him - making them wet and splashing water all over the cleaned house by walking in those wet slippers. Like buying 2 amazing lip-colors and beaming at myself, and him, appreciating both so innocently, not knowing I haven't yet put the second one for him to see. You see? But like all of you already know all of these things, I too knew about this guy-ish behavior before. I've read Cosmo and it teach us and prepare us for this in advance. No big deal. But what I didn't know, what I didn't experience everrr is this thing about him being-there always and its amazing. AMAZING.

He's always there when I hurt my foot in a clumsy attempt at 'single-ladies' dance moves, when I am cooking and he can nicely camp in front of the TV watching some more soccer or some silly stocks market review but he stands by my side constantly trying to help (I overlook the mess his help causes, what is a little mess, really, in the greater scheme of things?), when I wake up a little in the nights to see him waking up too and drowning me in his huge arms. For my 5 feet 4 inches, he really is huge. And cute, in a boy-ish way. It is so fresh and strange and tugging-at-heart and scary - all at the same time.

Its a wonderful time of my life, thinking of which I get goose bumps. Am I allowed to be this happy? How did I land up with this great guy? First I thought this was a dream, but its been 6 months now. Too long for a dream. This is real, and I am sure I was someone really good in my past life. Like some freedom fighter who died for the freedom of the country...or a scientist who invented some life saving drug from some serious illness...Or Mother Teresa even. No not her, she was alive when I was born, someone else, someone equally good and noble. How else do you justify this bliss? Hmph.

Whatever it is, I am enjoying myself and I am managing okay on my own with the cooking, the setting up of the house (which is quite exciting as opposed to what i used to think), with hosting dinner parties almost every week and with wearing a saree once every 15 days for some formal party. Being a part of a couple is not as bad as I used to think. In fact, its fun. *Smile*

And here is a picture of me with him at a beach. Remember my no-pictures-of-myself-on-this-blog rule? Its bullshit, I know, but I once made that rule for myself and I've been sticking to it till now for some reason. This pic is okay in a way though. See it to know. More in the next post - my adventures of the new life. Ta!

Santa Facts.

2009-12-24T20:38:00.000+05:30

I have been gone for like forever, and I haven't even logged in to blogger for ages but Christmas is here and I cannot break my Christmas-blogpost routine. So here I am. For a long due post, this one is going to be a disappointment because I am not writing anything, just conveying my thoughts on the ever elusive Santa with this image below. Have a merry Christmas guys! -xoxo

Baby Sitting - Never Again

2009-08-15T16:04:00.000+05:30

Now, I really think that the kids these days are getting cleverer than ever, cleverer than it’s necessary for their own good. I mean seriously, what is it with these kids? They are way way WAY too smart for people like me, for people from my generation. I feel old already. There is like a gazillion years between me and these kids. And I'm only talking about the school kids - from, say standard fifth even. Uff.

I have been in Kota, my home town for a while now. Though I miss Delhi and Gurgaon a lot, it is fun being with the family after a long span of 6 years. And I was living the family dream until I spent that one day with my 6 year old cousin. Was always smart for his years, this one - but I didn’t know how much until that day. I had to baby sit him for a day and I gladly agreed. Now I think that he can baby-sit me, actually, but anyway...I was to realize it later. I was told he loves his Play Station 2 and while he’s at it, he’ll not bother me too much. I only had to keep him away from his cycle (which he is also crazy about, I came to know later) and make him eat his food. Except for this, I was free to read, to go online or to listen to music. Purrrrr-fect, isn’t it? Well, no. Not at all perfect, actually. As soon as I got there and his parents left, he humiliated me with his wisdom in some bloody fighting game which he made me sit next to him and play as his opponent. Fighting game. Me. Hmph. He shouted dangerously while I was bleeding badly on the ground. Our players in the game, I mean. Mine was clumsy and slow and gawky and was highly incompetent I must say. Whoever put him as a choice in that damned game I ask!! My player was defeated and was lying on the floor untended. His, on the other hand, was flexing his muscles and was screaming in a very unacceptable voice. "You chose the better player" I said, "Obviously the idiot I got will never win against the devil you have. Cheating." He stared at me with impassive eyes and pressed some buttons and whoop!!! The game had to start again with our players reversed. I had the screaming devil while he had the clumsy slow guy. Yayyyy I thought, and .... The cousin won. Turns out that it was not the player who was slow and clumsy, but it was me. Ah yes, and incompetent. Me. I had no freaking clue what I had to do or what I was doing.

But that's not the point, you know. Winning or not winning - it was just a stupid game. What worried me was the violence in the game, the blood the weapons the screaming. Kids should not be exposed to all this. I asked him to switch it off and tried explaining to him how bad it was to fight. He didn’t listen of course.

He grabbed my iPod and scanned it completely. I though that was bad manners, no? But apparently it’s not anymore. It is perfectly okay these days. Anyway...I would like to mention here that I am quite proud of my song collection. Nothing but the best- from Hindi to hip hop, from latest pop to all time rock, from country to rap. But then there’s the cousin. He thought I'd have better taste than this. An 6 year old guy telling me I can do better in the music I listen to! I didn’t know what to say or how to tell him off. So I just stared at him. He didn’t mind it anyway. He wanted to have a round of who-can-stare-without-blinking. He won. I let him win, that is. No, really I did. I had to, because it was lunch time.

At the dining table, it was peace because he ate properly once I agreed to pretend that we are at Mc Donalds and this is a Happy Meal that we are having. As opposed to his extremely quite behavior till now, he would hardly stop talking at the dinner table. In about 15 min of lunch I learned about his interest in sports (Soccer), music (learning to play a guitar at this early age, which is goood) and kept talking to me in a very cute fashion about, well, video games, school bullies etc. He is a hyper imaginative kid, this one. He kept telling me stories (all made up at the very moment I suspect) like how he escaped from a mad guy with a gun in the park, or how he can tell what questions are going to be in his exam or how he once cycled as fast as lance Armstrong. I almost choked on my food when he wanted to know about Orkut. I mean hello! 6 years old!!

Then ladies and gentlemen, the lunch was over. He finished eating, washed his hands (I was impressed, must say), turned to me and demanded the Happy Meal Toy. What do you do in a situation like this? Poor me, I’ve never even ordered a Happy Meal from McD ever. He got angry when I didn’t have a toy and dashed to the garden where kept his cycle. I thought I'll just hold him and drag him back inside, lock him up if necessary - he's only 6 years old and is rather skinny. Wrong again. He kicked me badly and got out of control almost the moment I tried to pick him up. I think they should make his avatar in the fight game he's so fond of - the unbeatable warrior. Yukkkkk. Anyway, he went out with his red shinning bike (cycles for kids are also called 'bikes' these days, mind it), out of the gate, out of the street.

Eventually, he came back after beating up some boy in the neighborhood, and that guy’s mother came along to complain. Apparently this was not the first time he’s beaten up other kids. Thankfully my uncle and aunt returned home the very moment. I rushed home almost simultaneously - feeling low and humiliated and just plain stupid.

Kids. Someone ought to do something here.

I just hope all the other kids are not like this.

And to make up for this looooong post which is one of the rare vent-out posts from me, here are two cartoon strips about clever kids -who can be annoying at times. I love them, though. Calvin and Hobbes, I mean.

Cute, no? But No Baby Sitting for me ever again.

The Anti Love-Guru

2009-06-16T22:32:00.000+05:30

That's me. Throughout my adult life - wait, throughout my entire life I've hated to have committed people about me. Serious. And whenever one of my friends got committed, I have tried my level best (and even succeeded many times) to help break up. Against their will, obviously. But who cares. Single friends are the best.

I have successfully carried out 3 breakups in school (in school imagine!), 1 in Grad, 4 in M.B.A days and 2 in the working life. Good stats, no? And believe me, all of them are happy now. Well, Happier. And most of them are still my friends. Actually 4 are still my friends. But that's a storng bond, ya know...been through thick and thin together.

Even today, I have this untamed - unstoppable part of me which unleashes itself the moment it senses the minutest of trouble in a friend's relationship. I am livid then, almost irrepressible. All the wrong thing come out of my big mouth - basically against the relationship. Dont get me wrong, I am not a slimy bitch who wants everyone to be single. Its just that if I think a friend on mine has potential of being happy and vibrant, but is being held back by a certain 'relationship', I feel bad. Pardon my limited knowledge and/or experience with relationships, but isn't it supposed to set you free, give you space and make you happy in general? Well, this seems easy said than done with people. Most of the couples I know are whiny about space issues, are pissed with commitment fears or are plain depressed because of expectations-no-expectation syndrome. So, in such a situation it is better to be out of the relationshit, right? hmph. But people think I take some kind of an evil pleasure in other people's breakups. (wicked smile) Well, this is highly untrue. And funny too. But once ppl believe something like that, it is completely impossible to convince them otherwise. Oh God. Hideous. Anyway, I stand for the cause of happyness. As in persuit of happyness. Being in some thing that takes away your peace of mind, your charm is frankly beyond me.

And since we are on the topic of anti-love guru and break-ups, here's a true story of my friend...umm....lets call him Johny Bravo (haha) who recently broke up with his girl (2 year relationship) after a lot of blame-game and name calling sessions and thus, bitterness. And no, I didnt have any role to play here. So freshly out of a long relationship, the guy didnt know what to do. I mean for god sake, for 2 years all the guy had was a 'steady relationship' (not that its a bad thing or something, just saying) - the post break-up world was new to him. He was lost. An heart broken, of course. Was even sucidal for a while. Okay I just made this up. but seriously, suddenly he had so much spare time on him, he completely freaked out. (funny!) So a bunch of smart ass friends like me, suggested lots of things for him. He liked a lot of options. Now his day is like this - 5:30 am - Yoga (Hot Yoga Teacher). 7:30am - skipping session (the guy looks so toned now..umm).10am office (drowned in work - suddenly one of the best performers). 7pm - Swimming (yes.Swimming). 9pm - party (a lot of partying. He re-discovered the joys of being single ; )).

I'd say it is pretty good, no?

Except this, nothing much happened to me.

But please dont judge me - I dont 'like' break-ups at all.

And I am no more single myself, to prove the point.

On Writers

2009-05-17T15:48:00.000+05:30

And their female fan following.

I recently met Jeffrey Archer in Landmark, Gurgaon and thus this post.

Like most of the avid readers, I am also a fan of Archer. “Kane and Able” gave me goose bumps while “The Prodigal Daughter” made me pretend like Florentyna Kane for days – Independent, ambitious and adamant. This was way way way back when I was in school though, when I was in a different world altogether. However what I still carry from that world is a desire to know a writer closely. Maybe date one. Yes. I am fascinated by writers because I assume a) they are extremely witty (which is a major turn on) b.) they are curious (which is a good thing if I dated one, if you know what I mean) and c.) they are someone I can look upto (which my friends, is the first step for me to fall for someone). But noooooo. I never knew even an ounce of a writer. I could date none. And then I became so intimidated by those things that I found solace in this writers-are-boring-and-self centred-maniacs-who-are-insensitive-in-real-life theory.

I realized how much I still love writers when I met Jeffrey Archer. And I wondered why girls are drawn towards writers and artists so much...there were OOOOHs and AHAs all over the crowd from girls when Archer made any joke. Not to mention me and my girl group that hooted endlessly, clapped stupidly and shouted shamelessly to draw his attention towards us (and he did notice us, I think he even smiled) This interest in writers is maybe because your regular men completely lack any interest in even reading. And writers are not your ‘regular men’. I think, this can be because writers are perceived as free spirits, liberated and intellectual beings, which is a charm we ladies are not armed against. And today’s young writers have exactly the same traits. Lets talk about a few writers I know and their female fan following I don’t know of, but will assume.

My claim to fame is I now have a few friends who are published writers and have a book or two in paperback with their names on top of it, resting casually on their coffee tables. Or carelessly on top a pile of clothes in a hostel room, in case of a special writer friend Sachin. Sorry. Sachinn (Notice the extra 'n'). Sachinn Garg of the Sunny Shady Life fame. I met him before he was this big celebrity who is now on MTV ticker and on Radio channels and on Page Three. Umm...Okay not on page 3 maybe, but he soon will be, he has all the tricks up his sleeves ladies. Heehee. And gentlemen too. He showed me this amazing American Chopseuy place in a local Gurgaon market and snorted when I expressed my disbelief on how a place like that can have such yum food (This is a diehard foodie, I later realized and they come with the firm belief that detailed menu list of all restaurants and names of all the 14 year old waiters in the hidden-local-food joints around the city are casual information known to all). Anyway, he has a lot of potential, you know, in the female fan following field. He’s witty and is thus charming. And I can safely assume he is getting a damn lot of attention these days. But I think his MBA might come in his way of the ‘follow up’ process. He is always writing some paper, or working on some case study or something equally unnecessary. Seriously. Why work up your ass to achieve something when you already are a writer? I mean he’ll sure write more books, no?

Then there is Durjoy Datta, co-author of the much talked about “Of course I love you...till I find someone better” who I know socially. Digital socially, that is. Facebook, G-talk, Orkut. He’s quite cute. My only thing was – why a co-author? That too with a girl? Uuhu. Immediate put off for teenage girls - his primary TG (going by the fact that all my cousin sisters and their friends are were discussing his book nonstop when it was released and find him oh-so-cute) He should write independently is my smart ass suggestion. His picture is still a hit in my house hold anyway. An entire book will be a major add on.

There are a few more. But don’t know if they’ll like being the subject of my theory. So lets leave them. I’ll share more gossip once I have the disclaimer on my blog right. Or maybe I’ll let my other schizophrenic self write about it explicitly. Hehe. I’ll get going now people, I’m gunning to finish “Shall we tell the President” tonight. Yes, it is a signed copy. Yay!

When I am not around....

2009-04-02T12:48:00.000+05:30

...and I am not updating my blog, things that I might be doing:

Having shit loads of fun in my soooooper cool life, with no time to type.
On a vacation to some exotic place far far away from Internet and people.
In true love with my man, whom I would have finally found, making all of you jealous or happy, depending on what kind of a person you are.
In search of my financial stability. I think I had it at some point. Oh ya. It was when I lived with my parents. Shucks!
Watching non stop episodes of 'Sex and the City' Season 4 and pretending to be Carrie.
Spending all my time in never ending meetings discussing annual reviews, Next financial year plans, creative ideas or a punch line for a soap (I came up with "Soap of the future! Less water more lather"- to make a point that this soap helps save water, you know. Got rejected though)
Reading Harry Potter (Excuse me, I love Harry Potter)
Finding my inner self
Finding my inner self on Facebook. Possible.
Commenting on everyone's pictures on Facebook
Living in dejection after Facebook got boring.
Majorly pissed with the current state of affairs at work and thus too pissed to think of anything to write
Learning to drive a car. Its time.
Spending my days in some rehab. You know...
Being a simple plain lazy-ass

One or two of the above are

true. But what's the point of telling, you are not going to believe it anyway. The hint is the picture below.

What a weekend

2009-03-08T21:53:00.000+05:30

'Insane' is the word I'm looking for. I almost got scared I was having so much fun, really. You know - The moment where you've exhausted your daily dose of laughter and the back of your head pains and your tummy hurts and eyes water and you want the joke to bloody end, to stop trying to laugh, but its out of your control. Exactly. (smile)

Obviously I'm going to deprive you of all the details and gossip, I need to go to sleep - tomorrow being a damn monday. But one tiny example wont hurt. To give you an idea, that is. Haha.

Example:

Dude 1: (indulged in a not-going-anywhere conversation)..hahaha...yes, true. Its something like 'you give me blood, I'll give you freedom'. Wow, what strong lines man...(goes into deep thinking)

Dude 2: Hohoho...too good dude...too good lines. "Tum Muhje khoon do, main tumhe aazadi dunga" too goood. Who said that? A.R.Rahman?

All of us: Dudeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Jai Ho!

To be or not to be....is not the question anymore

2009-02-19T19:26:00.000+05:30

There are more important, much more confusing, oh-so-demanding and course-of-life-changing questions one needs to answer these days. Well, not 'these days' literally but days when a mid twenties, Career oriented, super-ambitious, single, confused woman has to deal with overwhelming arranged marriage scenes with her folks, with a sooooooooper bitch at work and at a generally unclear point in life. Ugh. This is so not me. But it is true. Days are over when I would pretend this was happening to someone else and that I will just get up and go back to my own happy and content life whenever I want to. Not gonna happen. Reality has finally sunk in. And it is so so so not fair. First there is the arranged marriage thing. Very recently, after numerous sad little meetings with prospective grooms and families, my childhood thought of 'arranged marriage is so much better' died and 'wish I was smart enough to get a life AND a guy' thought took over. But who else is to be blamed, but the smart ass - myself? I was the miss-know-it-all who laughed on you in school when you had your 1st boyfriend. I was the jerk who ridiculed you in college when you lost sleep over some guy and/or relationship. I was the bitch who lectured you at work about how important a career is over some stupid guy and how shortsighted you are being when you gave more importance to looowe life over a career. Laugh on me now - all of you. Because I declare here, that though being single is still the best for me, there is a time in your life when you have to have to have to get married, this way or the other. 'This way' being the love marriage way, which I so much prefer now to the 'that way' of arranged marriage. I feel like the last dinosaur man, seriously. Aaargggh!

Work is another thing. I've been lucky enough to have worked with the best people ever till now. TILL NOW. Not anymore. I don't even want to start this subject because I'm exceptionally pissed with the bitch. The fat bitch. The ugly fat bitch. The ugliest fattest bitch of the century. You get the point.

I am so disoriented I want to change my city. My relationship status and financial status seems to be going no where so I thought I'll evolve my career. ha! And the bitch too, is a tiny reason. Really, I might just kill her one day and land up in the prison with no career. I'd want to pass that situation. Plus maybe a new city will give me some direction. Or at least will take off the pressure temporarily. I'm hoping it would. Some might think of this as running away, but who cares? I can do with some running anyway to fit into the Guess top I got for my birthday. hehe

Okay end.

I'll keep you pissed. Oh, posted.

Ta!

Valentine’s Day is lame. Birthdays are not...

2009-02-14T11:30:00.000+05:30

So this year I’ve decided to not let the lame Valentine’s Day overshadow my birthday. I’m not sure if you understand the pain of being born on 14th of February, and you never will if you are not born on the 14th of February, so just take my word for it. It is bad.

Reasons why a birthday on the V Day sucks:

On birthdays generally only you are excited and feel special. On a birthday that is on the V Day, everyone is excited and feels special.
Everyone is MORE excited about the love day than your birthday
People keep cheezing you off with names like ‘Valentines Girl’, ‘love girl’, blah blah
Random corny guys who you keep ignoring otherwise can give you flowers on this day on the pretext of birthday and you find it hard not to accept
Everytime you get a birthday wish call, it is combined with a ‘happy Valentine’s day’ as well and you have to say ‘Same to you!’
You cannot take your friends out because of the fear of muthalik putting you behind bars or worse, getting you married right on the streets with any random guy who has come to wish you, maybe the above mentioned flower-giver. Yuk.
If at all you go out with friends to celebrate the birthday, say in a pub – and you are obviously dressed in your best possible (hello, it’s your birthday for chrissake) – people in that pub think you are a wannabe who is all decked up for the Valentine’s day. Cheap people.

Sigh. So now you see? But anyway, this year my birthday is going to be as normal as anyone else’s birthday which is not on Valentine’s Day. I had a blast last night at one of my dearest friend’s place (whose house i’m totally in love with) with a set of friends. The birthday song happened, cake happened, the cake-on-the-face happened and by the end of it I was completely high on my birthday spirit. And I got carnations. J And 2 stylish friends gave me a super sexy top from Guess which I totally adore but will be able to wear in public only after I lose like a 1000 kg of weight. And the calls that you get at 12am – they give you such an awesome on-cloud-9 feeling, no? All in all, the birthday eve and starting was very impressive, I must admit. Lets see how the rest of the day unfolds. I’ll sleep again for a while now and wake up fresh. You guys have fun with the e-card below!

Makeup Tips...

2009-01-30T18:47:00.000+05:30

...not really. This is just to keep the guys away from this post. hehe. This is basically a girlie post. From me, yes, thank you. People keep telling me to get in touch with the girl in me, always. So I got in touch with the girl in me, and turns out, she is kind of a bitch. Tell you how. For starters, remember the guy things from the last post? Yes, they are still there - even increased in number. Can you imagine? Me with a guy-count. It is almost like I'm hallucinating. But no. They are really there. Ha! And I am happy managing time, scheduling coffee dates, phone calls and being extra attentive while I text these guys - don't want any cross connections. It's fun. Bitchy, huh? Why the hell was I not doing this for the past 300 years is my question. Jeez. I got to be insane to miss out on all the fun part of being a single girl in the town. On in the office. Or in the pub. You know.

So. When did all the guys become so relationship paranoid? Its funny. Then there is this other breed who only want a I-am-serious-for-you-dont-even-look-at-another-guy-but-let-not-talk-about-marriage kinda relationship. What is a normal girl like me supposed to do? So many questions. Is casual dating okay - it is okay. Can you kiss a guy casually - I really dont know :) Do you lead on a guy when you let him buy you a drink.....It is not as simple as you though. But well....anyway, the girlie part of me is ruling me these days and I'm loving it so far. :)))

The bad part is I am sleep deprived. I look so wrecked in the mornings cant tell you. So I did some research in many issues of Cosmopolitan and figured that if you apply mascara nicely with a fine kohl lining in your eyes, you don't look sleepy. Ta Da! No wonder my office people are not used to me wearing makeup and they look at me strangely - but what do they know. Duh!

Cosmopolitan should remind you that I love reading a lot and I was a compulsive book buyer(was). Besides cosmopolitan, I don't buy books these days. nu nu nu. I am a new person this new year, I told ya. No more wasting money and stacking up books for just-might-read-again-in-about-a-1000-years purpose. I discovered this amazing thing called Friends of Books. (Don't even think it is an online library. I cannot read a book on a laptop, phuleese) Here I just go to their website, select my books for the month with a stylish click and they deliver it to me in 2 days flat! I pay by cash or cheque. The net savvy duds, sorry dudes can pay online as well. The subscription plan is as reasonable as 2 books a month for Rs. 150. Quite cool, isn't it! So that explains my wild party scene. Money saved is 2 books read and 5 parties attended. Try it if you are in Delhi NCR.

Now I talk about my book here for the first time. Yay! I used to keep it a secret but cant do it any longer. Dear internet, please keep my secret safe with you and your users. Okay, I want to so much regularly write my book and complete it sooooooooooon. I am so lazy most of the times, and other times when I am not lazy, I end up rethinking about the entire plot -if I should change it altogether or not, blah blah. I am so screwed. But excuse me, do not assume no work has been done. I have figured out the most important things like the title (haha, wait till you hear it), my opening phrase, my dedication, my dress for the cover picture, my hairdresser for the photo shoot, etc. Writing it wouldn't be too hard. I just have to start.

Okay this is where I stop typing and start dressing up. Got a party, baby :) I'm meeting my back-up dream man in one hour. BTW, have you checked out the new TC in Priya? Awesome music. Go there and catch me sitting next to the DJ ;)

2009 Already?

2009-01-08T16:53:00.000+05:30

Oh Crap! How come no one told me I'd still be single and foolish in 2009? Hmph. Anyway, besides being single and genius (did I say Foolish? Where?), 2009 is good so far. Came back from Goa on the 2nd, so technically started the year with traveling, yay! But you know what, Goa wasn't all that fun after all. Trust me. I stayed near Anjuna Beach and we hired bikes and suddenly I found myself aimlessly driving in Goa 24*7! I hated that, BTW. I got a sever sun burn, third degree. And the oh-so-talked-about-GOA-party-thing didn't give me a kick, honestly. And come to think of it, I am otherwise a big time party person. uhu. Not good, Goa. Okay now don't boo me people, maybe it is me and not Goa, but I really wasn't all that impressed. Did I miss the point? Don't bother to enlighten me on this though. I have no plans to go to Goa on any New Year for the next 300 years. Word. Going back to 2009 being good so far. I attended quite a few good parties. Already, yesssss. heehee. I'm so cool. Some friend's get togethers and some media parties. All totally hip and awesome and loaded with good cocktails. The best and the latest was the Ibibo party at F Bar, The Ashoka. Oh man, I had funnnnnnnnnnnn. Everything was so nice and easy breezy and I laughed a lot and..well...basically had a good time. Or was it the 5th Cosmopolitan? (F Bar has the BESTEST Cosmopolitans in the town, just FYI) Anyway, I now have a very cuddly Male ibibo penguin soft toy(If you know me,you'll know I've already named him for the month. His name for Jan '09 is Tarkie. Cute, I know.)sitting on my pillow and creating a mess in my room when I am out. (Yes mom, its Tarkie!!!!) He's the love of my life. After Garfield, that is. Then there's another thing. 'Guy' things. (coughs. Do I have you attention now? Right.) So honestly, there are a few of them around, if you know what I mean. Ahan. See, I'm still very much single and passionately intend to remain so, but a lil' attention couldn't harm, right? And the fact is even this attention is rare for me. I am always out of the picture. Any picture. Always busy doing whatever crap I do and manage to demotivate every guy who comes my way. But I am trying to learn the soft skill of flirting now, you know. (yes, in my world its always 9th grade. So?)And, well...the result is good so far. I suspect my single jinx is breaking, Ha! Some such things are looking promising. Interesting attractive things - few of them. Umm, Yes, I call guys 'things', so? A brief about these guy-things is here:None is single. No, only one is single. Rest 'say' that they are single but hey, you cannot fool me! Nu Nu Nu Nu. Guys could never tell a decent lie. I know inadequate when i see one. One guy-thing says he is single but i sooo soo soooooo doubt it. Another thing says 'the coast is clear'(what a suspicion-arousing phrase to begin with!) but I know for sure he is dating someone - my sources tell me he is. Another guy-thing tells me he's broken up & moved on and I can so much see the complicated break up in his eyes and in his silent mode cell phone. Ummm...yes there's one more distant possibility whose relationship status seems to be 'it is complicated'. But what the hell. And what’s the rule that says you can only flirt with a single and available guy? I mean, its so arbitrary. Okay enough drama. Before you can all harass me with a million comments to know the truth (I wish!) actually, one of them is really cute (dreamy smile). Aww man! I hope he is single. Then we'll see. Good 2009. heehee. Enough dope for one post darlings. And its only the 9th of Jan! I wish I could give you the juicy text conversation details, or the me-the-detective story behind the 'the coast is clear' guy. Or how I do something stupid when I'm with the cute-I-hope-he-is-single guy or even all of their initials, just for the heck of it. But I suspect one of them will land on this post and find out. So, over and out for now. Catch ya later alligator ~ I hate the movie terminator. Wow, me genius. Ta!

Christmas and New Years

2008-12-26T23:09:00.001+05:30

Two things all over the place are 1.) Christmas and 2.) New Year, so how can I not have an opinion about it and not write about it? Starting with Christmas, I must say I love the entire Christmas feeling – the cold I always seem to catch during the season, the Christmas carols that I can tweak in a funny way and laugh my guts out, the Santa Claus delusion, the red color tacky decor everywhere and the holiday from office. Ha!

Let’s go one by one, what is with the cold and flu? No matter how much caution I show I ALWAYS end up with a red nose and sore throat. Crazy. And Santa Claus? I mean I like the man and all that, but it is not funny how much people are deluded by him. He is arguably the most suspicious character I’ve known. Ever wondered how his name ‘Santa’ is so similar to ‘Satan’? hehe. Anyway, my favorite is the RED theme all over the place – malls and shops and even offices. I love the color! And the office off – just made my day :D And before I move on to the next topic of the post, may I ask why some people insist on calling it ‘X-Mas’? I never understood this name, seriously. I mean c’mon people, Christmas is celebrated because ‘Christ’ was born on this day, not someone called ‘X’. Or are they people who are fans of the ‘X-Men’ series? Whatever.

Okay, so my last year’s carol was very popular (I would like to believe it, at least). Did I forget my Christmas carol version this year? Here goes:

Joy to the world,
the mall burned down
And all the dresses died
And all the shoes
are big time doomed
And poor people like me sing
And poor people like me sing
And poor, and people, like me sing

Joy to the world,
the mall burned down
And all the lingerie’s gone
And the bags that stare
and perfumes that glare
Are no more there to fear
Are no more there to fear
No more, no more for me to fear

Sing it, it is fucking amazing. Genius, me. (proud smile)

Moving on. New Year. 5 days from today. I’m almost done with the final draft of my New Year resolution which came down to 2 points from 119 points in 2 days. I still have to rethink on these 2 points. Hehe. Anyway, I have to flaunt that I am off to Goa tomorrow for my new year celebration (why do you think I included ‘New Year’ in this post then?). Totally cool, isn’t it? Well, actually it was a last minute plan and I blew all my money in the air fare and the beach parties have all been canceled but what the hell, this is my 1st time in Goa and I think I’ll have fun. Oh please now, dont you start with the Goa-is-on-a-high-alert stuff and go ahead and be jealous of me. :) Wishing a happy new year to all of you and a great fun filled peaceful colorful year ahead.
Love, Aditi.

Terrorism: Why India, and other questions

2008-12-13T17:36:00.000+05:30

Unclear and confused post alert!

I know it’s a bit late to have a post dedicated on Mumbai Terror attacks - but I want you to know that I wanted to write something sooner, but I didn’t want another arbitrary-unstructured-emotional dump of words kind of a rant like I did for the Delhi Blasts a few months back. The Mumbai terror attacks looked like a perfect sport – a trained team that’s highly motivated and skilled. It broke my heart. I was hurt when it was Delhi and now, when it was Mumbai – something inside me died. I wanted to do something and like last time – actually like many last times - I didn’t know what to do. So for the lack of thoughts/reactions/actions, I watched the television 24x7. But joy to the world, a frenzied Barkha Dutt was all over the place. I changed channels to escape the old hag’s insensitive coverage, thinking that may be it’s only me who is biased against the ‘Jahnsi ki raani’ of Kargil, until plenty of comments started pouring on the Brakha Dutt and Blogging post of mine which made it clear that some other people also share the same opinion. The woman is insane.

Off the records, I’ve joined the ‘Take Barkha Dutt Off Air’ group on FaceBook :D

Anyway, with Barkha Dutt answering the allegations made on media (read ‘her’), with media (otherwise) behaving a bit sensibly post the attacks, with Obama supporting India, with politicians showing their true colors and then with people uniting and lighting candles, it looks like there will no more of the ‘undying spirit of India’ cliché. Had enough already.

That’s that. What I am wondering is why is India such a soft target for terrorism? Spineless Politics? Maybe. Maybe not. After all we chose these leaders. Democracy, remember? Then is it the inadequate governance? Could be. Because the people who were standing by the ‘respectable governance’ of the Congress till 2 days back (arguing that no matter what happens inside the country, our diplomatic connections have improved, which –mind you- matter the most in the long run, and our economy is the safest. Ha!), are backing of with Pakistan denying any help and the economic meltdown hitting India harder than expected. Is it Pakistan then? But is anything in Pakistan’s control anymore? It’s like inviting your big-bully cousin to camp in your room for a few days in order to boss on other kids temporarily, until you realize that the bad cousin has taken over your room, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Hehe. Silly comparison, I know, but what the hell. While we, Indians, are working in big IT companies, making lots of money, watching block buster movies, educating our children and believing the next-super-power-India dream, there are poor families in towns like Faridkot in Pakistan with 5/6 children and nothing to eat, where one of the boys sell ‘pakoras’ to feed the family, who one day shows up with AK 47s and like in a PS2 game, kills whoever he sees. On the name of what? Religion? Yes, but is it only Islam against Hinduism? What about Hinduism against Christianity in Orissa and also when I was in a convent school in Rajasthan and a priest from another convent school was beaten up by RSS gang? What about what happened in Gujrat? There is no answer. No certain solution - not immediately atleast. With these international talks and threats happening, does any of us really believe anything better will come up? I read it somewhere a whie ago and ironically now I myself think we should drop all talks about handing over a list of terrorists and stuff, and just open India as a sort of Disneyland for terrorists- with attractions like Mumbai (local trains loaded with unimportant people, 5 star hotels with dignified celebrities, cafes with ready-to-kill people having coffee in the mean time, etc), Delhi (The parliament, Local markets buzzing with shoppers, gol gappa/aalo tikki eaters, people driving autos, etc), Jaipur, Bangalore and loads of other places, and let them have fun. It is almost like one anyway.

Even as I write this, not knowing if I have made any sense in the last 4 paras, there is an unusual fear in me. The fear that settled in me the night I heard the Taj news and is refusing to go since then. I guess, the only way to know what to do with this fear and whom to direct it toward is to watch 45 news channels and to listen to what our elected leaders have to say. And also, till the time it continues, we will have to sacrifice our individuality, privacy, trust and your general mental well-being. Can’t think of anything for the immediate future. All I’ll do for now is never wish someone ‘Have a blast!’

Month Long Drama

2008-11-26T23:21:00.000+05:30

I have a ‘write a post!’ yellow post-it note sticking to my desk phone at office and my DVD box (which lies besides my bed) at home. And still I managed to ignore it for a month. Hehe. The reason I didn’t post for a full month, besides my laziness, is a month full of drama. Yeah total DRAMA. Here is a list of the elements of the drama:

The 'circle of friends'

It is complicated. All relations I have known till today are based on mutually accepted delusion, I can tell you. It is plain give and take. Gone are the days when friends were selfless friends. Okay I am making it a tad over-dramatic, but what the hell - I am enraged by m complicated friendships. And an added advantage to this particular circle is my master’s degree in complicating relationships. And I get so messed up at times that I end up being the one responsible for all the shit.

So Relationships + Me = Complications = My giving up = No relationships for me.

See? Its complicated.

The Money:

I am broke. You may ask –Again? My answer is – Yes, again. Have so many things to do, God knows how am I going to handle my bankruptcy. I hope that in a very dramatic fashion, some filthy rich person who loooooves my blog, reads this religiously (that is, whenever I post) and finds me really adorable (have I ever posted my picture here?) and decides to write me an anonymous cheque. Don't give me that look now. I get anon comments and anon mails all the time, why not an anon cheque? Hmph.

The Best Friend’s Wedding

So Sheetal’s got married. She fell in love and moved out of the house we lived in so happily. Only if I was a lesbian, I would have never let her go. Damn! Man, I feel so lonely in the city of desire -Gurgaon and what’s more is, that now since I cannot keep the huge flat all on my own, I have to shift. What the hell. I’ll miss my space (one room of sleeping and other 2 rooms of laundry) and I’ll miss Sheetal so damn much. Think about it, I anyway dont have a boyfriend to trouble, the scene with ‘friends’ has gotten bad and now Sheetal too is leaving. She told me this is to make space for something better in my life. Ya right! Is all this drama really necessary to change my life? I don't believe that one bit. This is unfair Mr. Universe!! (Sheetal introduced me to the Law of Universe – more about that later).

The work-place Issues

If that was not enough, my work has started giving me problems. Joy to the world! (Cant write more about it, my meant-for-private-consumption blog is quite a rage in my office, haha)

The Facebook

I have lost all interest in facebook. I mean seriously! My status has not been updated for like a week now and I have not been sending out any new feed. No activity. uhuu. Can anyone believe it? Well, those who are in my friends list will not believe it, I know. Is this a sign that I will gradually lose all interest in life? In food? In gossip? Hell!

The Dream World Problems

My dream world has always been my escape and my favorite destination and my biggest strength but somehow my dream world has also got the virus recently. My dreams are so much close to reality, I want to puke! Now you agree with me, this surely is dangerous, right? Sigh.

The ‘Whatever’ Mode

Okay, I always used ‘whatever’ as a complete sentence, but the ‘Whatever’ mode is taking over my entire social life now – or whatever is left of my social life. I refuse to go clubbing with friends and prefer lying in my bed doing nothing. I haven’t gone to a dance floor in like a 1000 years now and I haven’t checked out a single guy since I can recall (well, leaving the hot guy in Times of India office today – but he looked so taken). To all the above, my instant reaction is ‘WHATEVERRRRR!’ I look like a complete badass at work and I don’t seem to care. I don’t dress up, my eye liner has dried due to non-usage (if that's possible), I am thinking to get my hair cut really short because I don’t want to take care of long hair and all, I don’t change ear-rings anymore and most importantly, I have not got any expensive lingerie for ages.

Seriously, who is this person anyway? This cannot be me!

Gawd, I want some action in my life and no drama - Or I’ll die of boredom. Or lack of make-up. Maybe due to over dose of painful - cruel - shallow - disgusting drama?

Sigh.

I end my non-post here. Will be back soon with something exciting to share. Take care and get a grip before you are compelled to write a post like this one. :)

Virginity: Over rated?

2008-09-30T18:38:00.000+05:30

Really, is virginity so important? Why can guys get away with being obsessed with it? Does it really matter in a relationship? Or can you tell a person's behaviour in association with his/her sexual past? Is virginity only for girls? Seriously, is virginity overrated?

A email conversation with a school friend of mine who has no access to the internet in her boring office except for the official mail and she always mails me on my official ID. (obviously, i changed phone numbers in signatures and the email IDs. But conversations are real).

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com]

Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 4:35 PM To: Aditi Subject: Are you alive? Importance: High

Hi Aditi

Wanted to chk if you are alive. If yes, mail back. If not, don’t bother.

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 4:38 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Are you alive?

Not bothered.

What kind of a person doesn’t invite friends on her wedding anyway?

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com]

Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 4:42 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Re: Are you alive? Importance: High

What wedding? I only said that the arranged marriage scene was kinda working out with some guy (finally), no?

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 4:51 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive?

Well yes. But since you disappeared, stopped spamming my official ID, didn’t reply to my 2 and a half mails (2 genuine mails and one forward), and stopped showing up in any FaceBook update, I assumed you are in a relationship. No?

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 4:57 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive? Importance: High

Nooooooooooo. I was busy. It did come to a wedding talk eventually until I realized he was an asshole and I said a no to him. Your friend is still single.:)

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:04 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive?

Oh. Busy with what? And when/how did u realize he was an asshole?

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com]

Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:11 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive? Importance: High

Busy with anger management. Did you know there are even books on the subject? I found out at various points during out 2 months of ‘get-to-know-each-other’ thing, but I thought it was a general guy thing, until one day. You don’t want to know what, really.

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:16 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive?

I want to know.

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com]

Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:19 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you alive? Importance: High

He wanted a virgin wife!

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:22 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Are you Serious?????

Honey, but you ARE a virgin!

(the last I knew)

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:29 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Are you Serious????? Importance: High

I am a virgin. But that’s not the point Adi!!!! He was a hipocrite!! He is one of those men who, throughout their bachelorhood, will make sure there is no virgin girl left on the continent, and then will want to get married to a virgin. How lame is that? This is principally not okay with me.

Regards Pritha

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:31 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Are you Serious?????

Hmmm....

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:39 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Re: Are you Serious?????

(sorry, took some time to sink in)

Actually you did the right thing P. What is principally not okay, is NOT OKAY. Period. I am so proud of you.

Cheers!

Aditi

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

From: Pritha [mailto:pritha@in.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:43 PM To: Aditi Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you Serious????? Importance: High

Thanks Adi. Mom is scandalized, but a woman’s got to do what she got to do. J

Coming to Kota this Diwali?

Regards Pritha

PS: You should blog about this. Change my name and ID obviously.

From: Aditi [mailto:Aditi@mycompany.com] Sent: Tuesday, September 30, 2008 5:49 PM To: 'Pritha' Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Are you Serious?????

Yup!

Lets meet at Convention and order the same greasy Chinese and you can tell me more about this Mr.Virgin Wife.

Love ya!

Cheers!

Aditi

PS: I will blog about it obviously. In the same format. Ding Ding Ding! =D

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Aditi Mathur | Account Manager | My Company | Phone: 9899999999

Serial Blasts in Delhi, yet again.

2008-09-13T21:48:00.000+05:30

Delhi.

13 Sept 2008

9:20 pm.

Serial Blasts in Delhi. 20 dead and over 90 injured. Indian Mujahiddin takes responsibility. No matter how weird it might sound, but I m teary eyed right now. I have goose bumps and i want to go do something – anything at all! What kind of life we are living? What kind of a world is this? What do people want to prove with this blood show? No, no one I know is injured or dead, thank god. I got numb after I heard the news of these blasts in delhi.A few friends are stuck in traffic and a colleague’s kid is in shock because she was in GK 3 M block and saw people shouting bomb and running. Apart from this, everyone I know is fine. But I am restless. I cannot do anything about it. No one can I guess. I purposely don’t have a television set at home because I get depressed with things like this. And the irony is I can’t do anything at all. This all will be washed a few days later, I know. New things will come.. New reasons to worry- - some new gimmick against the Bacchans or some dad killing his 14 year old daughter where the authorities take big bucks and remain shut. . New things to celebrate - US orders troops into Pakistan without its consent or an upcoming international game hosted by India at the cost of the Capital's basic infrastructures -roads for one.. Maybe a blockbuster-even-before-release will be made on the issue with strong patriotic sentiments. But what about right now? Even a lame person like me can figure out that they have struck back in the exact patter like last time - sarojini nagar blasts - targeting the crowed markets that attract a high number of people. Can’t we have a serious standard of security and alertness? Man, I cannot even type properly. A few days later the TV channels will run a story titled ‘Delhi spirit never dies’ or ‘Delhi is bouncing back to normal life’. Some might even come up with a chronology of Delhi Blasts – the history. Some will say this is terrorism, some might blame it straight away on Pakistan and some will be convinced that this is the government or the opposition. But you know what, this is not done. Not done at all. This will all settle down within no time. I can so much relate to GK M Block market, I can almost see it happening in front of my eyes. And CP? India Gate? Fuck man. I was out in a mall in Gurgaon when my panicky parents called me to break the news to me and wanted me to rush home and be safe. I called all my frnds and got crazy over a frnd who had switched his phone to avoid disturbances in his date. Whatever. I am bran fucked right now and I don’t know what to do. This is not just the blasts and terrorism; this is about the depletion of trust and emotions in people. Everywhere there is pain, loss, Broken Dreams, lost trust, exploited innocence. Can anyone trust anyone these days? I cannot. Hell, I cannot even trust my best friends because I’ve seen better. Whatever happened to faith? A hand that hold you and pulls out of all the shit? What happened to the undying belief in the fairy tales? Why are we not able to dream these days? Why is it that the fear of loss wins over the urge of trying? I hear about the power of dreams, of the common man, but does anyone believe in it anymore? I don’t know if someone thinks I am overreacting, but I am itching for some faith.

Type of Men

2008-08-23T00:29:00.000+05:30

Okay so what if I don’t have a boyfriend, what if I don’t believe men, what if I hate even a friend who is boy, I still have a right to write about men. :) Based on my limited/scarce/ prejudiced/inadequate/shallow knowledge on the subject, I shall share the list - MY LIST - of various types of men that exist on the planet. There is so much I want to say before starting out with my list, but I am suffering from a memory lapse since the time I woke up this morning – with the younger brother living with me these days, with his engineering college admission processes, with his lunch/dinner worries, with his ‘I-m-so-fucking-bored’ rant every day, with our late night make-cruel-fun-of-our-relatives sessions, etc etc etc – because I am too exhausted for life at the moment. So cut and straight to the point I go – Type 1: I-am-your-best-friend Man This type is abundant. They want to be your friend and share all your highs and lows. They take care of you, they know you and your feelings, they seem trustable and dependable and they are the perfect guy-friends. Come to think of it, they are 10 times better than most of your girl friends. (most of the girl friends, not all). They claim this is a platonic relationship, against the ‘when harry met sally’ law – boys and girls can never be friends – and even you, the smart ass yourself, believe them. Everything goes well till he is distracted by other girls for the ‘girl-friend’ sake. You laugh with him on his flirtatious exploits with other girls inspite of being a girl yourself because you think you are a different league that these ‘other’ girls with this best-friend. But nooooooooooooo, every man has to be a man. Sooner or later, the other angel crops up and spoils everything. This angle can be –

he falls in love with you,

he cheats you by saying he is in love with you while saying the same thing to some other random girl (i pity this other girls also),

he is not comfortable with your other guy friends because he is the ‘Best-Friend’,

he is actually a regular selfish person who – when left with no other girl because of various reasons – starts the more-than-friends bullshit with you hoping you will reciprocate,

he has been dumped by all other girls (because some girls are smart, unlike you, and they figure him out in time) and now you have caught his fancy.

Whatever reason, this ends up with not so friendly terms. You might still give him a chance but you know you will be cautious now on and things will never be same again. Type 2: I-want- to-rescue-you Man This guy has heard a lot of Cinderella –Snow white stories and fancies himself as the knight in shining armor. He has all the acts practiced and all the reflexes ready, all he needs is a damsel in distress. Even if you are happy and giggling, he will see the pain in your eyes and will take a blood oath to rescue from whatever it is that is hurting you. They easily fall for the lamest things like ‘I don’t believe in love’ (this makes them think you are heartbroken) or ‘Childhood was the best phase’ (he gets an idea that you are unhappy with the grown up life). He is generally a nice guy with a big heart and a penchant for girls in pain. My theory is that this guy has recently had a breakup or a troubled life. This guy is not very common but every girl comes across such a guy once in a while. He really wants to help, to make a difference without any agenda. Good guy, this one. The only thing is, once he thinks you are happy, he is disappointed. For him to be happy, you have to feign deep sorrow throughout. Type 3: Gay Man This guy is fun, Gee. He is gay and he thinks he can hide it and he hits on you but you know he is gay and you also know he thinks that you don’t know he is gay. You see? So this is so much fun. Being gay is fine, absolutely. But in a country like India, people hide this. Obviously, because of various reasons, and I don’t blame them. But it really is funny when a gay guy hits on a girl only because he is with his male friends who probably don’t know about him being gay. SO in order to hide it from other men, he acts like this. Poor things, you can see he is so damn uncomfortable in flirting with a girl, but the cruel world! Sigh! This man is nice to talk to otherwise and is sensitive too. Type 4: I-want-to-be-alone Man Okay, so this guy wants to be alone. But he is not like us regular girls, no, he will not stay shut up in his cluttered room and watch movies or something, instead, he will dress up and go out to crowded hangout zones and sit alone. He will watch you, he will check out every girl in the vicinity and he will ogle also at times, but he will not approach anyone. He will sip his coffee or beer and watch other people. I guess he is in a reflection mode, contemplating about life and asking questions to himself, meanwhile failing to concentrate and thus getting distracted. Poor guy, he is mostly in some low phase but beware, he can also be a criminal. You never know. Key is, just ignore him. Type 5: Arrogant Man This man is on a power trip. He has some kind of an inferiority complex and he hates all women. He gets his kicks by abusing women and/or making fun of them in a cruel way. He has been treated badly in the past (i think, by a woman) and he thinks he will be at par by being cruel to every woman he meets. He is the type you will find on a road side or in a mall. This type is very rare. But he can be a really bad experience. He will be glad if he makes a girl cry, Yes. He will spot you if you are good looking and smart will decide that you are conceited – something that he hates. He will then punish you for it. Loser. But better to be away. Really. Type 6: I-want-to-marry-you Man This man can be one of the I-am-your-best-friend Man, or the I-want- to-rescue-you Man but trust me, this is also rare species. He is good, if you think he is good for you, that is. Life can be cool and you can have a happily-ever-after if you like him. But in case you don’t want to tie the knot, you are in trouble. This guy will fall in love with you honestly and it will break your heart to say a ‘no’ to him. He is generally a good friend, whom u will hate to hurt. He will tell everyone about his feelings for you, making you feel ashamed of yourself. This generally ends up like a fairy tale (if you say a yes) or disastrously (if you deny). Type 7: I-am-a-rockstar Man This guy is a complete show-off. He thinks he is a rock star of some sort and is totally deluded. He will see you, and when other men will see beauty or opportunity or style or something else, this guy will see audience! He will charm you with tales about himself. He is self obsessed and thinks it is his business to butt into every damn person’s life. He will dazzle you with stories from his glorious past (that he probably has cooked up himself), he will impress you with his accomplishments with other girls (this one is my personal dislike), he will surprise you with how high people think of him (he himself tells you this) and much more. His aim to strike a conversation with you is to speak about himself to a second person first being his-own-mighty self (I suspect he talks to himself nonstop). Type 8: Regular Man This is a common type. He is your regular guy, yes – loves gadgets (some of them do), loves sports (well, mostly), is sex-starved, hangs out with boy gangs, is capable of hurting, loves action, hate to admit that he likes romantic movies – in short he is just normal. Be careful around him. I’m done. Remember that there can be more than one types in a real guy, these types can be phases of life also. And then, this is my list. :) UPDATE: Monologue is mentioned in Great Bong's latest Blog. OMG. The Barkha Dutt blog I wrote is linked to Great Bongs's post! Means he read Monologue, at least once, right? Wow. Isn't that great? I am super duper excited. Now, does this count as being famous? :)

I am Back - with pictures :)

2008-08-08T12:47:00.000+05:30

I am back form my vacation - probably the best I've ever had in life - and I so much want to go back. I have changed post this vacation. I am unable to work in the office (I sit on FaceBook all the damn time!! How lame can that be!) and I so much hate the Gurgaon transport now (Even more now, because a 2 day rain has eroded all roads and most of the roads are like an excavation site now). The best thing about Singapore is their public transport. So damn convenient. I hope Gurgaon govt does something like this. Anyway, I am sharing a few pictures from my vacation. One for each day. As you know I have a strict no-pictures-of-myself-on-this-blog policy, I am nowhere (Except for one where I have cut off my head). Hmph...I don't know why I made that rule anyway, but lets stick to it till we can. I am otherwise a complete show-offish person who flaunts pictures everywhere. My blog is an exception. :) Moving on...This was my first experiment with photography also. I recently bought a super cool camera and I used it to its fullest in Singapore. Let me know if you like them.

This is me at the cutest Fish Pond ever - Singapore City Church

For some reasons, I kept meeting Brides and Bridegrooms. Here is the cutest couple.

The Singapore Supreme Court.

Merlion An interesting poster warning the World War-2 soldiers against giving their secrets at 'The Battle Box'.

One of the beautiful pictures I took.

Jelly Fish at the Under-Sea-World, Sentosa.

Paula Ubin Island.

A tropical Fruit. Lovely picture, this one.

Me walking on the deserted trail on Paula Ubin.

Sun set from the ferry.

View from the cable car, on way to Sentosa.

Pink Dolphin.

On of the cutest kids I have ever met. Inshira. :)

PS: I blew all my money on traveling and food so there was no chance for shopping. :(

Tag and Singapore :)

2008-07-23T15:11:00.000+05:30

I was officially tagged by sweetheart Sachi and I am taking it up because, one, it is really interesting, two, surreal inspired me to do this real quick.

Anyways, the rules are:

1. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
2. Using only the first page of results, and pick one image.
3. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers.

This is really interesting. See my image-answers , looks so cute. :)

The questions:

1. What is your first name? (Kabhi Kabhi ADITI zindagi me yun hee koi... Imagine, Rehman dedicated this complete song to me! Man! This song came at the perfect time. :) He must have read my last post, I guess.)

2. What is your favorite food? right now? (yummmmm)

3. What high school did you go to? (Sophia Convent)

4. What is your favorite color? (Red. Notice my certainty and poise and 'as a matter of fact' look)

5. Who is your celebrity crush? (lets see who's pic is the best. I have lots of crushessss :P )

6. What is your favorite drink? (Guess?hehe)

7. What is your dream vacation? (Bahamas)

8. What is your favorite dessert? (God of Tiramisu will bless me this one time. Delectable picture)

9. What do you want to be when you grow up? (Can I like, opt out? I dont want to grow old now!!)

10. What do you love most in life? (Cute one!)

11. What is one word that describes you? (Happy? Confused? Outgoing? Dancing? tough call)

12. What is your user name? (This one was SAD. I dont even know what this picture means)

Okay, other quick updates (read showoffs) are :

I'm off for a looong vacation to Singapore. All I want to do is Shop and then shop some more. Wish me 'fun' 'enjoyment' and 'thrill' guys! I badly need all of this.
I wear glasses now. Yeah, got a weak eyesight. ewww
I want a sexy template for my blog, can anyone suggest anyplace/anyone? I want something exclusive, like Silvera's blog. I so much love it.
And yesssssssssss, my aunt met some future teller and inquired about me (I'm the constant worry of my family, heehee) and the chap said I'm going to have a love marriage!!! I mean, imagine!! wow. Hope is still there.
The disappointment I wrote about last time is still there, I am a person who really really realllllllly gets stuck up, but I'm okay now. I guess. Whatever!
I am afraid of -quotes-close friends-quotes close. Still. This will remain with me for a lifetime now I assume. Thanks to that one close friend. I cant stop blaming myself for being friends with losers, man! I got to learn my lessons. Hmph.
On Go-Phish's advice, I got 'The Secret Dream World of a Shopaholic' and I loooooved it. Thanks sweeti! I feel so good after reading it. Hehehe.

That's it for now folks. See ya from Singapore!!! :)

How to get over a disappointment

2008-06-23T18:00:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: This is for girls only. However, if a guy relates to it, Bravo! You have a heart! Read on...

This disappointment can be a day, a person or a relationship. For a person like me, rather for most of us, disappointment and being let down are the worse things to happen. I mean I can handle a fight, a bruise, a bad hair day, a broke month, a bitchy client but I just crumple and break down if I am disappointed in someone. Maybe because I trust only a very very very few people... Very Few... Only 2 or 3 people in my entire blessed life. Yes, it is ‘this’ serious. Anyway, I know (through my bookish knowledge) that life is not too serious and you eventually wake up and realize that you have healed and that you are ready for new things. Ha! I’m turning into a psycho. Watch out you so called ‘best friends’, hurt me more and I might just get insane enough to stab you in your heart one of these days. Ah, the smell of traitor-blood...

Okay, so this is not about my misery, but it is about how to cope up with such situation when it gets hard to breathe. Girls, everything I say here is tested personally and works wonders. So if there is anyone around here who has had heartbreaks, heartaches, betrayals or disappointments, this is for you! And and and if someone is here who doesn’t have these problems, well, I’m jealous, please walk off my blog. I hate you already. Hmph. So my dear readers, if there is any such thing bothering you, here is my piece of advice:

(Since this another addition to mi 'How to..." series, it should go into that tag, remind me, will you?)

No Details phlueeze: Don’t go over the details every moment. It only makes the situation tough and suffocating. Leave it to where it is.
Drink: It is okay if you don’t drink. You can maybe try it once, a broken heart deserves to break a rule or two you made for yourself when you were all happy and content. That was history. So indulge and let it flow. I would prefer not to get drunk, but getting a lil’ high won’t hurt at all. You’ll feel good. (Spoilt rotten. Me. heehee.)
Make fun: Make fun of everyone. Comment, be rude in a funny way and poke fun at people. Giggle and laugh. There are enough weird people around to make you laugh. Important note: Dont feel guilty, you are doing this to feel okay and to mend the wound. And obviously, take care of not hurting anyone. :)
Bitching: Bitch about that person in your diary, with your friends, acquaintances or maybe with strangers (Acquaintances and strangers are my favourite). Just tell your story and get done with it. Sometimes you might even get a good advice, who knows. Just open up and bitch. Call him names, cruse him, pick on him and Yell. Might sound stupid, but it works.
Cry: Whoever said don’t cry coz it makes you weak? My experience tells me you should cry bloody well if you feel like it. Cry cry and cry. Be miserable. Cry. Have a low self esteem. Cry. Feel cheated. Cry. Feel lonely. Cry. And one day, sooner than later, you will realize that there is no point in being miserable anyway, anymore. Tears cleanse the heart. Allow yourself that weak moment and cry if you want to. In the end you’ll emerge. Word.
Socialize: If this was a disappointment in lowwwe, chances are that you might have shut off other people from your life while you were happy in the relationship. If this was a disappointment in friends, and you are now afraid to make friends again, well, you only need some good people (bad will also do) to spend your time with and have some fun. Time to socialize now, folks! Catch up with random friends you didn’t have time for before. Go out, have fun and forget all the bad things. (Come to think of it, by socializing, you can get o make fun and bitch about ppl also. Oh, genius!)
Shopping: Indulge, as I said. Shopping is something that will lift your spirits instantly. The sense of loss will quickly be covered up with an elated sense of possession. I don’t have to tell you that this one works, you know it does! Let’s see what you want...A box of chocolates, an expensive fragrance, a paperback book, an expensive dinner at your favorite eating joint...anything that you love, you want or you dont want. :)
Surprise people: yes, you can mend your hurts by making other people happy. Surprises are the best. Surprise a distant friend by sending a funny e –card, surprise your sister by enrolling her into a salsa class she always wanted to attend, surprise your colleague by buying lunch...anything at all. I am going to surprise you by a sudden visit, watch out. Yes, you. Haha!
Trust Yourself: And no one else. Trust only yourself and keep your chin high. Be a snob. Be a proud bitch. Make people cry.Let them beg. But don't let anyone humiliate you. Womanhood is a blessing. Cheers to grace and charm and emotions - which, by the way, men are highly incapable of. Well at least the ones I know are highly inadequate. (This one particularly makes me wonder if something is wrong with me - why do I always have to land up with losers? aaggrh!)

Hmm...I guess this is it. You should feel better. And I saw this on a page I got my inspiration from, and I’m sharing it with you. And remember to smile and laugh and make fun.

I Hate People. Period.

2008-06-10T21:55:00.000+05:30

With every goodbye you learn!

Love isn’t like a reservoir.
You’ll never drain it dry.
It’s much more like a natural spring.
The longer and the farther it flows,
The stronger and the deeper
And the clearer it becomes.

After a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security,

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes open,
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child, a
and learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans,
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even
sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure….
That you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn…
With every goodbye you learn.

Sheetal (My roomie, remember?) wrote this on her blog here and I found it heartbreakingly true...Love sucks. I read somewhere that what will survive of us is love, my foot! Only if WE survive love,or leave aside looowe, only if we survived affection. And the aftermath. And the people. Grrr... I hate people. Period.

I Promised Romance....

2008-05-26T14:53:00.000+05:30

...so even if romance is not my territory, here I am. Blame it on the unexpected May rains that are constantly hitting Delhi-Gurgaon - not in a positive way, but in a depressing-nostalgic-blue-gloomy-'what the hell !' way. Rains always do this to me, I get all depressed and then I get restless. Song in the background-'Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down' by The Carpenters - inspired by many bloggers who write backdrop songs for every posts. Thank you!!! Anyway, getting back to romance...My association with romance is limited. I am one of those - all adjectives courtesy my close friends - 'snobs in the air', 'date-lazy', 'highly opinionated', 'commitment phobic' and 'unapproachable' women you've heard about. I am either too busy in whateverrrr that I hardly notice guys/men or even once in a rare while when I do like someone, he has to - has to -has to be married. I've always had this thing for older men, sigh. So all in all I am an expert in unrequited love where there is never a future to fantasize about. And long lived romance doesn't agree with me. Period.

With all that I have felt and experienced, because I promised a post about Rohhmance and because it is raining outside, I am tempted to write about the things I like about romance, about being in love. No doubt this post will serve as a 'notes to myself' kind of thingy and it is more or less like a laundry list, but what the hell! Here I go...

The state of constant trance
Holding hands
Secret Jokes that only you two share
Locking eyes for long 4/5 sec when in a group and then smiling
Stolen Kisses in elevator/parking lot/dressing rooms in malls
Crazy pictures you take on every occasion and every non-occasion
Remembering all dates without any aid - you just get clever with romance
The new impractical, irrational and crazy you
Blushing (Well, sometimes)
The no-harm-intended caresses that are anything but harmless :)
The sincere appreciation that you get on your lamest possible creation - cooking, idea, text msg
Sharing a slice of pizza from last night
Constantly saying silly yet important things "Dinner's awful. I love you. The day was a bitch. Lowe you. Vegetables kill. I loooooove you. I'll skip work tomorrow. I lurv you. Blah Blah Blah. I love you."
Dressing up -with and extra effort - and actually enjoying it
Feeing his gaze on you when you are among friends
Watching him sleep
Counting his heart beats
Wearing his perfume
Roaming around in his clothes - over sized, full of his feel and warmness
Collecting the otherwise senseless stuff that suddenly comes in the 'collectibles' category - like chocolate wrappers and restaurant bills
A new emotion called insecurity (better when it is from the other side)
Finally, as someone has said "One of the best things about love is just recognizing a man's step when he climbs the stairs."

That's it I guess. Is it very unlike me? hmmm...did I ever tell you about my schizophrenia? This is my 'other' self. I call her Trish. Trish wrote this. Not me.
Next time I will give a full description of Trish, or maybe she'll again take over and gloat about herself on my blog - she knows all the passwords. So off I go to pull over the blinds, its raining outside again.

Paintings by Kids

2008-05-19T19:51:00.000+05:30

-(Not mine - the Paintings, neither the Kids)
"Who the hell makes a living by painting?" was what my parents yelled at me when I expressed the wish to be a painter when I grow up. I was 12 years of age - and fairly dumb as compared to 12 year olds of today - and had completely irritated my mom and dad with the becoming-a-painter thingy. They were scared like hell that their first born would be nothing more than a shabby shady backstreet painter who is high on dope throughout the day and whose only reason to be born is to dream and paint. (Tempting, huh?) I wanted to be one of those easy going - life enjoying 'artistic' people so that rather than worrying about demeaning things like money and career and studies, I could be happily settled in colors and dreams. But noooooo. Life has to have a different agenda!! I got all worked up with the career thingy and goodbye happy life of a painter!!

I have long given up on that dream and I'm in the Advertising World and I behave like I am using my 'creativity' to its most. That's average life for you. Sigh. Anyway, that's not the point of this post - and yes, this one has a point after all, thank you. So I went to this Mall called Ambiance Mall in Gurgaon and as soon as the elevator gates opened, I was exposed to an array of colorful pictures, canvases and even clay pottery all over! A creative workshop was being conducted and was amazed to see the bright paintings by little children that were showcased there. Lots of children were excitedly rubbing crayons on paper and making their imagination alive. A truely amazing site. I lurked around for a lot of time and had small chats with a few kids. Strangely none of them wanted to become a 'painter' when they grow up. The answers ranged form teacher to astronaut to Doctor to dancer...but no painter. Sad. Wonder if this is what we call being mature...or maybe materialistic? Whateverrrr happened to the dreamer breed? Are they not manufacturing it any more? Hello? Hmph. Besides this fact, a few of the paintings were really interesting and it is a crime not to share it with you. So I went click-click and here you go...
(lemmi know which one of these should win)

Predict-Everyone’s-Future Day

2008-05-04T22:22:00.001+05:30

I have survived a 3rd degree sun burn while rafting, I have emerged from a ‘who am I?’ kind of reflective phase and have dealt with a bitch from a client company. The only good things being the fun I had on the raft and a special interest. (Okay I won’t say more about it). All in all the month has been a bitch. So here I am with one more of my mean-est cruel-est and hyper-dramatic posts. This is not an original idea, let me confess. My creative director, Shubho, Gave me this idea. This is about celebrating a day of predicting everyone’s future as you see it. No homework required. Just take a deep breath and start talking. Trust me!

Well, I’ll start with my own future prediction, courtesy Shubho. No matter how much I hate being so serious about myself and hate bringing up the subject “ME!!” all the time, I can’t seem to help it often. Anyway, I have to start with someone so it’s me. Without giving any special treatment to my future, here’s my funny yet strange prediction. If there is a sad-strange-discomforting thing about it, I've made myself believe that people around me barely know the ‘real’ me. The prediction: No matter how big or small I think about my future and what rules I have in life, I will finally land up in a big plush house in GK-2, Delhi (right behind M-Block) with a very loving husband and a bright kid. The life of insane richness and luxury- I will have a big social circle. At 40, I will say ‘I hate Indians!’ and move to the Bahamas for a year or two and live a life of complete bliss. At 60 I will have a nervous breakdown, when the most expensive doctors of the world will give me most expensive therapies but it won’t help – I will scream that all my life I’ve been a people’s person, I’ve been smiling, being super good with people, working hard, trying to make people happy, being bubbly, being a good friend but actually, I hate people and all I ever wanted to do was to kill people. And then, with all therapies failing, I will go about killing people.

(Cruel laughter)Okay, that’s it for my illusive future. It is fun to predict future for people, and it really is fun. No science.

Okay so here we go – some examples and some guidelines.
Abhishek, my really good friend and colleague, has a future prediction too. A little background – he is generally a happy go lucky chap. Very ambitious and passionate. Very popular among girls as well. Prediction for him is – one night, between hailstorm and thunder, there will be a knock on my posh GK-2 house. On opening the door I will see a dishevelled and drunk guy, with overgrown beard and long unkempt hair, falling down on my doorsteps. Abhishek. He will look up and say “Adi, It’s not working out!” and will pass out. Hahahah. Abhishek was so alarmed all of a sudden on listening to this one and in a low voice, he asked me ‘Why such a disaster for me?’ lol

A college friend, Vibha, who, like me, always wanted to get into the Advertising world and pretended to be with me in the search of internships and/or contacts in the ad world and one day went and joined Mudra all alone without even caring to tell me about her lucky chance and my disaster. She ditched me. She apologised later after getting drunk in a college party and we were laughing and talking again. For some reason, she was forced to leave the internship in less than 2 months on account of her ‘unhealthy’ attitude and – her story – a senior guy prepositioning her bluntly on the face by asking her to sleep with him. No, I don’t believe it either. (Deep breath) Too much for the background. She is working in some bank now and we still talk on phone once in a while. Today was her turn for my prediction and obviously she begged to listen to it and I started off. ‘You will make it big in the Ad World even if you have stopped thinking about it. You will get this fat chance after your marriage. Maybe you’ll get married to the guy who sacked you for not sleeping with him, after his divorce? Anyway, the world will realize that your talent towards advertising is beyond compare. You will rule the Ad World. You will be the ‘next big thing’ in Advertising and I, being in advertising world already, will proudly tell people about our strong bond and old days when we started off by searching for internships. How nice, isn’t it?’

She had to go somewhere urgently so she didn’t answer and excused herself.

Another friend, who has had a much talked about breakup recently and hooked up with a random guy almost the next second, was with me for a coffee. I wanted to do some general bitching, not thinking about predictions when she started telling me about this tarot card reading she got recently. That was my golden chance. God of cheap thrills was helping me. So her prediction was – ‘You will make up with your first boyfriend – who is my friend as well – because there will be no one else left in our age brackets that you didn’t date. Both of you will live together and rekindle the fire but will be afraid to commit marriage. You will live in Hyderabad (dunno where it came from!) with 2 kids, but unmarried and will be iconic single parents (Single parents here means both together but not married, so both single, correct? Correct.) A happy life.’ I think I got her thinking. I tell you, I can rake some sleeping brains at times with my brilliant insights. She called up the guy (1st boyfriend) that night and of what I know, they are on considering getting back already. Oh, I am the home-maker of the year! Thankyou!

Then I went o get a sun-burn moisturizer from a shop near my office, where I told the shopkeeper that I see his own aryurvedic products earning him a lot of money. At planet-M, I told the guy that he will be a picked up in some band soon but he will have to look out for back-stabbers and avoid them. He looked pleased and already alert. At the FCUK store in Ambiance Mall, Guragon, the hideous choice of the girl there made me tell her that she will end up sewing her own clothes when she is 30 years of age. She went red in the cheeks and I escaped that very second before she could strangle me with a slimy snake-ish yellow-silvery fur top thingy she was recommending for me. Aagrh!

Some random predictions made people happy, like ‘you’ll get a husband like Garfield’ made my roomie Sheetal shout with glee and kiss me, ‘You’ll probably go to the Himalayas with nothing but a huge carton of Wills Milds and will achieve nirvana’ made another colleague of mine feel in terms with a sucking job and laugh after like 14 hours, while some– okay more than half – predictions made people think deeply and left them confused. Example: ‘Schizophrenia is your future. You’ll have 2 split personalities – one of a small senseless girl and another of a spaced out old lady- which will show conflict in all your decisions’, that made the same bitch I mentioned really mad at me. She probably figured out what I was pointing at. Hehe. Serves her good. Silly people. And I am anyway not known for my compassion.

Anyway I had my fun. The sadist pleasure I got is beyond compare. Hehe. Now you also go ahead and observe and offer predictions to people – to everyone you meet. Be funny and be mean, sound convincing and intellectual and have fun and thank me. And I promise y' all to write about romance in my next post. :)

Elegantly Wasted...

2008-04-03T18:32:00.000+05:30

Oh, Come on now! In all fairness how long does it really take to be back in your mind’s creative gear and write a plain simple blog post? Why is it that when your complete no-show makes people curious and make them inquire, you are brain dead and can’t even think of a decent answer? Why-why-why? Have I lost it? “IT” being my creative streak (Yes, I had it at one point of time. Thank you.). Or is it some kind of a looong-dark-glum hibernation period that my grey cell have gone and settled into...? Some freaking brain disease? Holy shit, it is fatal? Tell me, please!!

Okay, I’m done with the drama, ladies and gentlemen. If I irritated you, please forgive me – I have this tendency to get a lil’ melodramatic at times. But trust me, and this part is true, my angelic creativity, my ethereal writing skills have fled and refuse to return. The confusing patterns of life have stabbed me, and though I survived – I’m starting to have a history of surviving the most cruel stuff life does to me, by the way! – my art ran away. Sigh. It feels sad and helpless, like those regrettable times when sleazy men approach you in clubs and are misguided enough to think that they are every-girl’s-knight-in-shining-Armani and you can sense all your mannerisms and smiles and girlie-demeanour slipping away...away...away.... leaving behind the ferocious and rude you – not that I’m against it anyway, such men should be treated like this and worse, if possible – and with a few more such incidents you know that you’ll never be the same well mannered and dainty girlie girl again. Okay, maybe it happens only with me, not every girl, but what the hell! Atleast you got my point that I am elegantly wasted. Right.

So all I’m trying to say here is that inspite of many good and bad things happening – more bad less good – I haven’t been able to write anything and I think this qualifies for being a situation of concern. Not that I ever was very regular with the blog thing, I cannot do the “Dear-Diary” sloppy thing with my blog ever. But this time, something has happened....I tried thinking of something that is funny and interesting but I was held back by the twin evils of inertia and blank-mindedness. Phew. I can see the happy and chirpy ‘Updated!’ word on my blogroll against many blogs, and how it makes me feel shallow. I was reading a few blog posts. One of them had such a happening life to write about and in such a wonderful language you’ll never want to stop reading. Another girl has such a deep take on life, love and the universe that I felt so cheap and debated if I live on the same planet at all. Good guys. I hate them.

I had/have a full social life too! I had a great tour to Agra and saw the Taj Mahal for the 1st freaking time in my life, but did I blog about it? No. I met the cricket stars Adam Gilchrist, Robin and Yuvraj Singh at Wills Lifestyle India Fashion Week and fell in love with Gilchrist (remember my date-a-firang thingy?) but did I share it here? No again. And did I ever mention the cute puppy who is grabbing all my attention at home (actually, outside my house, in an empty land under a drain cover) these days? Big NO. See? ??

Anyway, because of loss of words/art/enthu/energy/skills/please help yourself to think of any derogatory adjective, I’ll try and make up with a few pictures. One is Taj Mahal and one is Gilly posing only for me. Honest. One is my stray puppy also, awwww I love him! Lemmi know what do you think of my photographic talent and pray for me so that I can write something meaningful (?) and witty and funny.

Until then, Ciao!

Pictures:

Email Faux Pas

2008-02-12T15:28:00.000+05:30

I would have gotten straight to the point only if if IF- 1. I knew how to manage my flair of being unfocused AND 2. I didn’t fell off my chair laughing on a major “email faux pas” – an outrageous email signature. (hahahahahha) I hate to impose, but some people really need to get their email-signature thingy right. I mean, c’mon! You cannot have your official email signature that is out rightly brainless and dodo. Jesus! Okay, so I thought of this - another educating and informative and enlightening post - when on a day like today, that is a work-loaded everyone-is-out-to-get-me Tuesday, I got a strictly official mail giving me dead and banal “internet brand activity” idea for one of my high fashion brands. (huh!) Skimming through the mail, and swearing at the general lack of creativity in the industry, I saw the bold navy blue signature (which was quite a contrast to the “plain text format and Times New Roman font” email) at the bottom of the mail. OhMYGod! It said “Never knock on Death's door. Ring the doorbell and run away (he hates that)". HAHAHA. Very funny, this one. Don’t get me wrong, I laughed on the person, not because the line was funny. This?? On an official email?? You must be kidding me! I mean hello! What kind of a dud would write that as a sig.? Lol. This is so funny, my stomach is aching because of the uncontrollable giggling and the people in the office are staring too. I think I should take a print out and pin this email up on my desk. Hehehehe. Call me a fool, but it amazes me how prosaic people become in order to appear clever and entertaining. So much for the effort! It is okay to do so in a personal email, but an official mail with a signature like this is a big no-no. Have something sensible there, if you must. Uff. While they say it’s good to be funny, give me a break already. What good can it do to be silly, especially when it is work related ? I’m still smiling at the silly signature, while I share with you a few more amusing email Faux Pas I’ve come across and I remember. My comments in italics.

"To do is to be" - Socrates "To be is to do" - Descartes "Do be do be do" – Sinatra

Oh Wow. It rhymes too!

“Curse the software!”

Hahaha. And hit the hardware.

“Close your eyes and this sentence will disappear. - Ron Quill”

Amazing. Ron Quill rocks!

“'Did you sleep well?' 'No, I made a couple of mistakes.' - Steve Wright”

Hahahaha. Steve Wright is as funny as Ron Quills! Lol

“No-one suspects the butterfly!”

WTF?

“And God said "Let there be light." But then the program crashed because he was trying to access the 'light' property of a NULL universe pointer.”

Geeky. Ugh.

“Anything too stupid to be said... is sung.”

And anything even more stupid makes it to your email signature, is it?

“Do Lipton employees take coffee breaks?”

Clever indeed.

“If all the world is a stage, where is the audience sitting?”

Sigh.

And coming up last is:-

“Become who you are.”

No. I’ll become Paris Hilton.

Funny for office emails? You bet!

ROTFL

Let me know if you have a funny email signature too and I’ll design a “My email Signature is the Funniest!” badge for you to flaunt on the awards section on your blog. Deal. :)

Ta!

Barkha Dutt and Blogging: Utter Dismay

2008-01-14T17:40:00.000+05:30

Barka Dutt. I'm sure as hell none of you needs to be reminded who she is. Some really nice work and independent opinion and spunk to question the existing and non-existing. That's Barkha Dutt for you. I thought decently of her journalistic capabilities, till yesterday, when I stumbled upon a talk show hosted by the lady herself, on a very touchy-ouchy topic - Blogging in India. Now, let me announce here - if you didnt know already - that I take blogging as a wholesome entity, not as a Post Script in a soliloquy. My domian, my space is really important to me, as I'm sure yours would be to you, and no matter how much I fool around by writing just about anything here, I know that this is a serious part of me. More reasons? Well, I am the leading lady in here for godssake! I love it. Watching this talk show, trust me, I felt like a loser trying to prove an inane point to a biased audiences. Phew. I agree I am not one of the high and mighty celebrity bloggers around, but hello, I have an identity and I share a common interest with all of them. No matter how small a part, but I add to the volume of the community and I feel good about it. If I am told that blogs are only and ONLY about sex and booze and being single, I'd probably punch in the person's nose. Pity, one cannot do that to a TV. The show was a holy mess, in terms of content. There were a few famous bloggers on the show - bloggers who's claim to fame were things like - beat this - being gay and accepting it on a public domain called "blog"(big deal?), being a journlist or something (sorry, I dont remember the gentelman's work interests completely - I was busy waiting eagerly for Barkha to make at least one sane point throughout the show), and being one of the most celebrated girl bloggers who candidly talks about boyfriends and drinking and sex but safely keep her idintity a secret (an open secret of course, and I personally love her blog). Only a lady called Jhomoor Bose was the one who stoop up for herself and made her point loud and clear. Rest were duds. Barkha had their blogs on the big screen, showing a few lines like "I havent had sex in a long time...." and asked them things like "awwww...you actually wrote that? *warm smile* Didnt you feel insecure writing about such things on a public place?*genuine concern with a tag smile*" and "Ohmigod!*excitement* What did your friends say abut this?" She had wierd theories like with blogs, life on internet is nowhere remotely close to privacy. Excuse me! The discussion never went anywhere and was concluded abruptly after accusing blogs, in a subtel and thus very-unlike-Barkha-way, for revolving around sex as a singular theme. Well, not exactly singular, getting drunk was also on the list. I felt strange and as small and as insignificant as humanly possible. And all this for some thought-less crap that I refuse to buy!! I have a decent blogroll and not one is obsene. Every blog is creative and exciting and yes, inspring. Not at all objectionable. I like loads of other blogs and I devour on a million others but strangly, I still have to reach that level where I will *remote possibility* coincide with what Ms.Dutt has to say *I'll rather be dead than believe it*. The discussins could have been informative and worthwhile, but they chose to cruely dissect it with the exactly wrong instrument. I ask, if you dont like it, why read it? Despite tendencies to immediately ostracize whatever doesnt make sense to your-mighty-self, I believe people who think like Barkha can actually do themselves a huge favor by fully embracing the activity of blogging, particularly for themselves and not for the world to see and react and record and deduce characters based on it. Enough! Also, *and you thought it was over?lol* apparantly thereare more people who think like me. I came across Shubho's blog. Here's what he has to say - This is the transcript of a letter I sent Barkha Dutt, a TV journalist of some repute, after watching her programme on Indian bloggers last night: Dear Barkha, Two words that sums up my feelings after watching your programme on Indian bloggers: utter dismay.While I didn’t have a stopwatch at hand, my guess is about 80% of your programme had sex as the central theme. Sex as titillation, not liberation.This was of course a direct result of your questions to three participants, concerning their personal blogs. The entire tone of your questions was ‘Wow! You said all this in the public domain, weren’t you worried?’There were sage asides on the above from some participants, including a lady with an impeccable hairdo who claimed ‘Blogs are like graffiti, no one takes them seriously.’A mild-mannered gentleman (I think he runs some kind of platform for bloggers in India, much too mild for his own and other bloggers’ good) tried to tell you there were many kinds of blogs, including corporate blogs, but you chose to bring in a commercial break almost on cue.A few points I would have made, had I been on your programme (even with the commercial breaks): 1. It was clear you have a personal bias against blogs, perhaps from your Kargil experience when some bloggers spread alleged untruths – something you mentioned on the programme. 2. There are many kinds of blogs, personal and non-personal, sometimes they’re both. 3. There are news blogs which have a bigger reader base than established newssites. There are tech blogs which companies like Apple and Microsoft regularly quote. There are very successful corporate blogs where users/stakeholders interact with the company. And so on. 4. If the issue is privacy, then I would worry more about the mainstream media – I suspect the Govt. of India agrees, going by recent events. 5. The content of blogs are subject to the law of the land – and there is such a thing called an IP address. 6. While it’s true that it’s easy to start a canard, they don’t have a shelf life. Truth prevails, more sooner than later. Your experience would be a good example. 7. A blog is ultimately about enabling an unheard voice to be heard. To me, it seems to be a constitutional right. Finally, Barkha, my respect for your journalistic prowess took a bit of a beating last night. I sincerely hope it recovers soon. Best wishes, Shubho Sengupta, 21speed.blogspot.com Well said Shubho. I'm glad we have a mind of our own. Update: Link to the show is here.

Tell-a-Stranger-Your-Story Day

2008-01-11T18:35:00.000+05:30

This is for one of your confessional days. This is for days when you are suddenly sure that if not told today, your grand story dies with you. This is so much fun. And exciting. And new. And fresh. And it gives you an amazing thrill. Trust me. Imagine telling a tale – real or made up – to someone who has no or very less idea about who you really are. He expects nothing and can easily accept you as you want him to, because he is unaware of your reputation of oh-here-she-comes-to-unfurl-another-story------yetttttt-again.

You see? It’s easy. And oh-so-damn-relaxing! Did someone mentioned Yoga? Try talking to a stranger. Who said it’ll be boring and confusing; you can talk about interesting things – made-up interesting things. Any average human being will always be interested in stories like heartbreaking break-ups including a suicide attempt, insider gossip stories about someone really famous who you happen to know very very well, infidelity in marriages these days or about the misbehaving males in the society. Don’t hold back, just make up some story and feed their hunger for knowledge. Just be confident and talk animatedly, throwing your hands in the air, raising your voice at an instance or two, wiping a tear of excitement off your wide eyes and the works. These are embellishments that add to the grace and truth-quotient of the story. You want an example? No problem.

What?

Yes, I actually did this. (straight face)

The person actually was not a “stranger” stranger, we’ve known each other professionally since a few months and I talk to him on the phone almost 5 times daily, and chase him for media plans and media buying and similar stuff. So, last night, after breaking my cell phone screen into 3 and a half pieces and not having any-bloody-one to share views on cruelties of life and brood upon the games life play – well, hello! I was hurt! My cell phone for chrisssssake!!! – I browsed my phone book and saw Vivek’s (Yes, that’s him) number in last dialled. I had this urgent impulse to call and tell him how my cell phone broke and how I am sad in life and how I think I am overworking but under-performing and how life is treating me so harshly and blah blah blah...But obviously I recollected my senses and realized I couldn’t possibly call him – at 12 in the night – for no reason at all. Hmm. Idea! Why not text him something weird, something incoherent and pointless – say something like “Not at all! Don’t even try to force me! Now you have royally put, not one, but both your feet in your own mouth. I HATE YOUUUU!”? Ta Da. Yes??? What do you say?? :) Well, whatever you say, I did send this text message to him and immediately called him to tell him that the text was not for him, but was meant for someone else and I accidently sent it to him. Ummm...actually, the “immediately” was so damn immediate that I called him up before he received my text message. Reliance sucks. Anyway, I started with the rehearsed lines of the-text-you-just-got-was-for-a-friend-I’m-sorry-did-I-disturb-you?-aww and quickly got to the topic – broken cell phone and life - ignoring his lack of response. I said “Oh Vivek, you know what? My cell phone fell down and broke! This is insane! I am so pathetic right now. I looooowed this darling cell phone man! It was my partner in solitude. When other girls in the PG I once lived, used to talk non stop on phone, me and my cell phone took pride in being able to rest & relax. When those obscene girls used to blow kisses on the phones, I used to keep mine warm and safe under my pillow. You’re not busy by any chance, are you? Awww...We were a happy couple – me and the phone. Man, I’m so hurt, I don’t know what to do.....” Vivek – confused at the sudden outpour- said “oh!....Man!.....ah....errr.....awww....No...yes, actually I am a bit bussieee........oh don’t worry....Oh.....oh no....ya?....awww....hmmmm” Nice guy. :)

So you noticed how he gave me the lead to keep talking. Don’t blame me now. He seemed interested. I quickly made a mental note of things I wanted to say aloud and say to “someone” and quickly prioritized them. You never know when the guy hangs up, right? It pays to be prepared. Yes, so I told him how broke I am at the moment – financially – and how my funds are becoming seemingly tiny day by day. Then I went to other well chosen subjects like life, global warming, benefits of drinking warm water, how much SRK sucks, why Bhajji didn’t slap Symmonds and who killed Benazir. Hey, I suddenly remembered – I must share this amazing India Australia Cartoon with you guys – must watch! It is here. Go see and tell me how did u find it. :) so I had this amazing stress-relieving and encouraging conversation (actually a monologue, I think he kept the phone somewhere and got back to work somewhere in between the warm- water-to-drink discussion.)

Whatever. I am so much relieved. The conflict of being the person I’m supposed to be and the person I actually am gets to me sometimes and my stranger helped me brush that off. Now you go try it out and lemmi know. Find someone at work, at a disc, a bar or coffee shop. All the best!!