I woke up this morning.....

Last day of the year and I couldn’t have had a more harrowing day. The last couple of days have been like some bumpy ride. I don’t even know why my eyes fill up with tears so very easily. Anyways guess what the icing on the cake is this momentous day? Well I left this really important file in a rick on Saturday and I haven’t been able to trace the guy as yet and now my job is in jeopardy. I can’t believe this is actually happening to me. All morning I have been at the auto stand outside my office trying to figure out who the guy was who dropped me off the N Block market on Saturday and in the process I am like firm friends with all the auto wallahs and I have to say that some of them are soooooo helpful. God bless them but I so want that file. Seems my life has been split into two parts, the life that was before I lost the file and the life that is threatening to take shape after I lost the file. I don’t know what to do. I am tired of crying, I am tired of sitting outside and talking on the phone to Shivi and my Mum. I am so tired of not being at my seat and the funny glances my boss keeps giving he. He knows I am acting strange but won’t say so. I don’t know how to tell him that the file is gone. I might have to give in my resignation letter a couple of days later and the aftermath of all this isn’t a pretty picture. I am sooooo scared. I don’t know why everything has to come tumbling down all at once. I don’t wanna crib, I don’t wanna sound like some drama queen.
Plus to top it all people I had forgotten make an appearance in my life. People who don’t matter at all. I have had the most random people calling me up last couple of days but the one person whose call I am waiting for hasn’t called. The one person who matters the most is clueless about this upheaval I am going through. I am stubborn too. I don’t like fair weather friends.I removed that lovely Christmassy Picture of ours from my desktop. We look so happyyyyy! I wonder what lesson god is trying to teach me this time. I was trying to comprehend what exactly is gonna come out of me loosing my job in such an ugly fashion. I mean really this is no way to exit. I know I don’t like my job, I know right now my finances are so so screwed that if I worry too much about it I’ll get into depression. But hell I don’t deserve this. Okie I think I have increasingly begun to sound like some cantankerous old maid. But no I am not like that. I am a lot of fun and naughtiness too. Last night I’d gone to a friends place for drinks. I hadn’t wanted to go initially cos the last time we’d met I was quite rude to him but gentleman that T is he invited me over. I have mentioned T in an old old post. He is Mister Hazel Eyes in my story titled The Mask.But yeah facts get blurred with fiction so don't know where I drew the line.We met the first time when P was leaving for UK and we’ve been friends since. T in someways is quite different from the guys I know. He is bloody well read, knows his history like the back of his hands, corrects my pronunciations, uses really interesting words and phrases like “et tu Brutus” and listens to me when I discuss poetry with him.

They don’t make too many men like this anymore hahaha! So there I was at his place with a bunch of people I don’t know and yeah all of them were from Mayo College. A was in town and I knew A in college and A and T were best friends in school so thats why the get together. I surprisingly had a nice time. I drank 3 glasses of white wine( Grover’s Vineyard) and it was way better than the Sula and Riviera I’d have. I met interesting people from colourful backgrounds. Met a lad who has just joined the same battalion my Dad was in and I was so gleeful when he said 3/8 GR. Had a conversation with this cute man who studied art history in Scotland. He was an army brat too. Bumped into an old friend and bonded over Pune times and T was kinda sweet and so hospitable. By the end of the evening I was happy high and all the women had left and I was the only one left. T was very affectionate despite me giving him the cold shoulder the last time we met. Yeah he had been so cheeky the last couple of times on G talk though. T would come hug me and kiss me on my head every now and then and I think I liked that. Damn how crazy am I! I was the last one to get dropped after we dropped young army boy to Dhaula Kuan and I insisted on Romeo and Juliet being played over and over again in the car while we got lost and drove aimlessly around while I had amusing conversations with T about how Radhi thinks he is too nice and why he never takes advantage of drunk women and why he thinks biting his ears ain’t that bad an idea.
I got up in the morning and the first thing on my mind was the file and yeah my mind cannot help think once in a while about T but then no I shall not do so. Oh god I hope I get that file. Damn I don’t wanna go anywhere tonite especially farmhouse parties. I am sure I shall freeze. Byeeee people. Thanks for bearing with this whimsical blogger who tries to make sense out of all the nonsense.See you on the other side of 2008 ! Happy Happy New Year!

Things I'll Never Say

I wonder how I'd think of us. I see us in everything even if tis been just a fraction of a liftime . Stooooopiidddd me,silly you, foolish us. Everytime they'd play our song be it "Dream On" or "That Thing You Do" the first glance would always be at you. Naaa I was wrong when I said I don't believe in fairytales, I do believe in them but I am scared of the endings, bloody scared of them. I believe in serendipity too but I don't seem to want to trust destiny. No I do not want to sound like some female chick lit writer hehehe! These days I think I am sounding like one increasingly. But seriously I do not want to be some cynical pessimistic woman who doesn't believe in magic. Wish I could be the happy me all the time. I'd love to capture it all in a plastic bubble and stay in it forever. Shielded from the world,oblivious to all the pain. Thats Utopia isn't it? I am too dreamy. These desires and castles in the air will someday bring the end of me hehehe!

Okie I am in Chennai now on a holiday with Mum, sis, uncle, aunt and cousin and it hasn't been as much fun as I thought it would be cos my cousin had to fall sick just the day after he landed from the US. Apparently the change in temperature hit him too badly. Well I would understand the difference between -25 and +25 degree celsius. So all I seem to be doing is listening to music, surfing the net and sneaking up to the terrace and smoking and yeah Mum has no idea and I do feel guilty but hell I have my own vices. They have this huge terrace and you could climb higher by getting up on the roof and last night I was having a smoke and happend to look at the moon and it was breathtaking, full moon and the moonlight was indeed playing tricks in my mind. The world surely seems enchanted in moonlight. I have too many memories of this terrace and the moon. I didn't wanna think of the past and how it had been, how it all crumbled down. I came back to my room. I don't give myself that luxury anymore. I try not to. Very hard to keep so much at bay. How do I trust people again? The closest people turn their back to you. I hate my gut feelings sometimes. I pray to god then asking him to take these nasty feelings from the middle of my stomach away.

Wished Libby Merry Christmas today. I miss her so much sometimes. Been hanging aound with Shivi and tis lovely. Keep reminscing the old times, our crazy Pondy Trip. Two of us went all the way to Pondicherry in a rickety old bus, just to chill and have fun all by ourselves. I remember drinking in those quaint french restaurants and walking down the road by the narrow beach, the white sands and the blue blue sea, brilliant shades of blue, turquoise and azure. Almost felt like a hippie after a long time. Sigh! The drudgery of routine life. Gotta get back again, yet again only to escape again.....

"Guess I am wishing my life away
Saying these things I'll never say"

Life or something like it.......

Is 24 really really old people? Mum makes me feel so sometimes. I mean why are we in hurry to marry me off. This has been the on going debate in my life with Mum and Dad these days. For christ’s sake I don’t wanna get married right now. I don’t even feel 24 to be honest about it. Sometimes when I am irritated I feel like a whiny 13 year old, when I am in a naughty mood me feels 8 again, when I feel the love filling me up I am all of 16 and most of the time I am almost 18 and there are instances or moments rather periods when I know I am way older than a lot of people around me. So how could you explain that? Why does marriage have to so high in my parents priority list. No I definitely do not wanna die an old maid, I mean come on who does? All those women who say so and pass statements like “Please I love my singledom and I don’t need anybody” are well living in denial and no I am not one of them. Yeah I do love living alone, been doing it for so long that this right now seems to be the only way of living. But that doesn’t mean I don’t crave for that companion, that friend, philosopher and guide. Okie these words sound too profound maybe. Actually I just want a friend and no I don’t think he’d be on shaadi.com or bharatmatrimony.com. Really strange how I keep hearing news about somebody or the other getting hitched day after day and I am like another one bites the dust. Then I bump into people on the social networking sites and they have all these happy pictures put up and you wonder “damn so does happily ever after actually exist?”. What happens after all these happy happy pictures are taken? What happens after you actually walk into the sunset with your prince? What if there isn’t a prince waiting for you somewhere? For people like me as each day progresses and we go about our lives living happily and moping around once in a while about being alone marriage is a scary word. I mean you know you want it eventually but not right now. I cannot imagine being saddled along with someone just for the sake of it. I am not anti marriage, I am not anti arranged marriages too. Some of the happiest couples I see didn’t know each other until mommy and daddy decided to take matters in their hands.

But hell I haven’t accepted the fact that I won’t meet someone the way I’d love to in this pathway of life. But realization does strike me sometimes that guess its not always like the movies. I guess sometime I would have to settle for the inevitable arranged marriage but now even the thought of meeting someone my parents ask me to gives me the creeps. They’d get some highly educated geek, with a thousand degrees and I would have to judge him based on a few meetings. If not few meetings then phone calls and chatting. It is like some deal which we enter into knowing fully well what the pros and cons can be. On second thoughts isn’t everything a deal? When I was younger and foolish I nursed these notions on how my dream guy should be. I wanted him to be well read, look kinda nice, intellectual till a certain extent and darn the list could go on and on. But in today’s day and age my notions have changed drastically. I just wanna be with someone who I could be the bestest friends with. Yup if you cannot be my best friend then hell I can’t be with you. Ofcourse he should be doing well for himself and decent family background and yadda yadda yadda! Isn’t that understood? Obviously I gave 5 very long years of my to that degree and I wanna study more. I wouldn’t be able to connect with just any village idiot. This one time I was so fixated with this amazing man who someways made me want more out of life, he was such a go getter, still is, dreams so big. I didn’t know him for too long, just a very short period of time in my life but I loved his drive, the tenacity that he is the best and is gonna get exactly where he wants to in life. He is still the same but in another world. But that was just a passing fancy I think or I just made myself believe something that wasn’t there. Today its different I guess. Never thought I’d say this but think we end up connecting with the last people we ever thought we would. Life is such an irony and with every single day I realize it a little more. The twists and turns astound me. I never know what is in store. Sometimes drunken prayers come true. Damn they do and you don’t know what hit you. Sometimes living in denial is the only way to live cos reality scares the living daylights out of you. Sometimes we should count our blessings and the loving people around you cos that’s the only thing which keeps me going. Sometimes the goofiest of people come out with the most classic retorts and you are left with your mouth wide open. I know I am not making too much sense. But then I seldom seem to make sense on my blog. And sometimes you get more than you thought you would and you are left with a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Like a B-52 shot. Hahaha!

Mum keeps telling me how there must be somebody so perfect for me somewhere and maybe he is on shaadi or jeevansathi.com and yeah right I should be the President of United States. No Mum there ain’t anybody perfect out there. I don’t believe in fairytales anymore, I don’t believe in soul mates too. I don’t believe in serendipity. I don’t even know much about happily ever afters and all the cliché Mum. I just don’t and no I am not a love sick looney Mum. Think you know me more than that. I know I pine for something that seems to be impossible right now and I feel sad that I cannot talk about it to you. For the first time in my life I cannot and it hurts. I wonder if you can sense it in my voice. Weren’t you my bestest and oldest friend? Then why would ya want me to compromise. Its never about perfection. Nothing is perfect ever Mum, not the sunshine, not the the raindrops, or the falling autumn leaves, not the snowflakes or even a beautiful sunny day. Sometimes it feels so right but is soooooo wrong and maybe some of us are just meant to love the wrong people and die.

A windmill that my mind seems to be....

Well I haven't put up a new post for more than 10 days now and I just realised that I haven't been writing anyone of my random stories for a little while now. I wonder how one time I could churn out one story after another and now I just cannot stop raving and ranting about the happenings in my life. Am I loosing the ability to create, imagine and spin my tales? Not that I was some out of the ordinary story teller and to be frank most of the pieces I had written were a reflection of my life, passing times, the wonderful and not so wonderful people I have had the good fortune or bad fortune to bump into and have in my life. In retrospect certain people I choose to write about have no idea that they had been written about or are being written about. I remember this conversation with Daddy Long Legs once on the phone when he’d said almost wistfully “Who would ever blog about me?” I chuckled and said “You never know.” I think he finally did read my blog but wouldn’t have read my old old posts to comprehend that I had actually written one whole silly almost poem on him.
What I marvel at the most is passing times and the changing abilities of people to affect you so much, affect every part of your life and “wooohooooooooo” swish of a wand and “abracadabra” and it has all changed, a different season, different times and I look back all dazed with wonderment asking myself did that ever happen, was that me, the me that is today, same old me. It is like I keep moving on and on and on and some people I always hold on to cos they are my anchors and I meet some beautiful people on the way that have driven home the belief that you are never too old to make new friends, to connect at unimaginable levels. It is bizarre really but aren’t we glad for surprises like this. I love surprises, blissful ones when I am taken unawares, when the last thing on your mind takes shape out of nowhere. Seems like God up there insists on astonishing me every once in a while, every time I give up hope, every time I am down and out and noooooo it is never gonna be perfect ever. I won’t have that perfect job the kind I’d be content doing every single day of my life too soon, or find the one love, the kinds I’ve been pining and craving for, tomorrow or have that perfectly sculpted body I have envied in other women, at the blink of an eyelid. It is gonna be a quest, has been a quest. I stumble, make silly mistakes, get blasted at work, become disillusioned, hate the world, hate everybody who has a job they love. I sometimes so hate happy couples and I am fascinated by what keeps them together, I cry, I whine, I drink too much and get oh so very sentimental, cry some more and get up miserable and guilty in the morning. I hate my body too on occasions, hate the sight of it in the mirror, feel my butt looks too big, I eat one piece of chocolate or 2 spoons of rice and get nightmares about becoming almost fat again. I pray to god then to give me some sanity and not be the emotional and nervous wreck I become sometimes.

So I get up in the mornings and tell myself no I am gonna give 100% to my job even if I hate it so what. I am not a shirker or a coward, if I have to learn the hard way then be it. There has to be light at the end of the tunnel right! When I feel despondent about S that teeny meeny little fairy inside me , the one who shows her face rarely whispers in my ears asking me to let him be and that what has to be will be and to cherish what he and I share now and dude believe me on days like this when I am content with wherever he and I are going are the days he calls up early in the morning just to say hi and laugh about the most ridiculous things with me. I went back to the gym the other day after 2 months. I had been jogging in this interim period and was dreading the prospect of checking out the weighing scales what my instructor would have to tell me. Hmmmmmm I have lost weight despite the random drinking binges. I was almost gleeful when I stepped on to the weighing scales. Yeayyyyyyyyyy! Maybe life isn’t as bad I make it out to be , maybe there is some magic at play somewhere . I’ll stumble and fall but get up again and hell I am learning, yes I am learning…….

I only have 5 minutes

Well well well I am supposed to be jotting down 5 minutes of my random thoughts and here I go. I can here the irritating ghati man from the accounts section screaming something about contracts and I hear the word "contracts" once again I swear I am gonna chuck my big black notebook on him. I am bloody bloody thirsty and dehydrated. Yeah I over did it last night. I was 11 down when I finally went home. We had an excessively emotional drinking session. Darn both of us cried, laughed, bitched to our heart's content heheeh! Oh my god I just remembered that drive we went for on the Greater Noida toll road and the blast of the icy wind on my face and the fog. It was bloody scary. I wonder how Rad drove the car through the dense fog and yeah I think she played "Dream On" to get some life into me who was on the throes of passing out. I got up this morning and as usal I did not feel like coming for work. But then I knew I'd would feel awful later if I wasted the day so here I am and its only 2.30 PM in the afternoon. Oh call me silly but I was checking out S and his girl's picture on facebook and dude I felt sooooooooooo miserable. All it takes is a glimpse of that picture and I can feel the prick of tears in my eyes. Enough of the sentimental me. Libby is having her first chemotherapy session today. I pray it goes fine. Love yaaaa woman. S came home the other day.He wanted to spend time with Libby before she left and she was so touched. Everytime I tell her "Darn he doesn't care, " She'd be like "Please he would never bother about me if you did not mean something to him." I've been reading "Istanbul" by orhan Pahmuk and it is beautiful. A little slow maybe but I love the descriptions of the various lanes and bylanes of the city, the little pictures he paints of his childhood and growing up years and the underlying sense of melancholy that has permeated that decadent city. Okie people I am done. I just realised that 5 mintues of randomness doesn't paint a pretty picture of me heheh!I sound like some drunkie, who is the founder member of the sop brigade and who cannot stop but mention S in every post. No more.

Someday we are gonna get so high.......

It was a chilly Tuesday evening last week when Libby and I were lying down on her bed and talking. I'd just come back from office and instead of sitting in the living room that we usually do we were in her dark bedroom sans any lights watching the shadows play tricks on the lone glass wall. She was about to start on her new job the coming Monday and was all excited about the new profile she'd got. I don't even remember what we were giggling about, or was it her customary lecture asking me to stop being so cynical about relationships or was I whining about S again to her? It could've been any one of those when all of a sudden she said "Pia think there is a lump in my breast." I said "What? Check properly. Maybe you are just imagining." A moment's pause and she said quietly" No it feels like a stone. I am not imagining." I had to agree finally because yup it did feel like a stone and it was huge.Radhi came home and we told her and she came to the same conclusion that there was something so not right in there. Radhi and I were adamant that Abby went to the gynacoelogist the next day but stubborn as Libby is she went into complete denial saying no she does not feel like it and we should let her be for a day etc etc.

Later that night I saw Libby reading up on breast cancer on the sly while trying to appear perfectly normal. I didn't utter a word. The next day too she did not mention a doctor until finally on Thursday Radhi managed to pull her to the gynaecologist. I was on the phone with them till they entered the doctor's chamber who advised them to get Libby's mammography and ultrasound report taken as it was clear that there was a lump in her breast but then the possibilities varied ranging from fibroids to fluids and the one word we did not want to hear cancer. Before long they headed to the pathology labs and within a couple hours they had got the reports. Radhi called me up and asked me to come home soon before she left for some sangeet ceremony. Sometimes I think whole of Delhi plans to have weddings the same day as it seems everybody I know has a some sangeet or mehendi or bhajan or bachelor party and the the penultimate great Indian punjabi shaadi to attend these days. Anyways I rushed home and as I turned my key and flung the door open I saw Libby with a tear streaked face as she tried to hide all and any traces of her tears. I walked in and hugged her tight. There was nothing to say really. Radhi was making chai and she asked me to help her with the cups and saucers and it was then when she said "Pia it is malignant. The radiologist confirmed that most likely it is stage 2 plus cancer.I haven't told Libby. We need to get a biopsy test taken as soon as possibly." Both of us were silent trying to come to terms with the fact that the ever smiling mother hen cum child woman Libby is probably afflicted with cancer. That evening at home was some scene right out of a movie and for the first time in my life as I spoke to myself I said noooo I don't want our lives to be right out of some make believe flick. We cried, laughed, smiled, tried to cheer her up, in the process cheer ourselves up. Radhi's whim again as she wanted to make tomato soup and now incidentally till a few weks back the mixer and the plug point were working perfectly fine in sync with each other. But that day the plug point would not work as Radhi tried to blanche the tomatoes so she used the plug point used for my TV. Well the outcome being there was hot tomato puree all over my dressing table, my TV, my new pink suit, Radhi was drenched in tomatoe puree and Libby who had been an innocent bystander got her stole bathed in those blanched tomatoes. We couldn't stop laughing. Atleast it made Libby smile.

The next few days were spent running around and trying to fit in office, court, doctors visits, blasting from irritating bosses, pathology labs and AIIMS everything at one go. Three of us just wanted to feel different. There was an air of gloom hanging around our happy abode. Libby wouldn’t sleep all night, Rad would get breathless and have panic attacks and I would get nightmares all night of death and cancer .Three of us got up each day looking like pale shadows of the people we were. I remember one day when I came home and both of them were sleeping and the house was dark, no music, not a sound coming. I went into my room and locked the door. I needed to get my mind off all this so even though I would not have done so on a normal day I called up S and spoke to him for precisely half a minute. He was like “What happened?” I said “Nothing just wanted to say Hi.” He giggled and said “Hi”. He was still in office. But that one “Hi” was enough for me.
However Libby composed herself too and took everything so well and in such a positive manner. They confirmed that it was cancer on Saturday and this woman has been so strong and has had a smile on her face almost continuously after that. Radhi and I felt so so much better after that. She planned her entire itinerary out as she has to go to a different city closer to home for her chemotherapy sessions. She told us laughingly about how hot she’d look after she comes back in a couple of months as she’d loose any excess weight she had and to top it all she’d be bald too. We’ve been talking and talking, she has burnt a couple of hundred songs on her lap top just so that she could listen to them and think of us and happy times, fun times, drunken times and even soppy times. One time when I called her up in the day to ask what she was up to she sends me a cocky message which said “Burning songs to make myself feel happy during the much awaited honeymoon in the hospital.”
Last night we spoke, exchanged some more stories, I told her my worst fears and she asked me not to worry. I believe her. She had her last drink too, shared her last smoke with me as she got ready for taking a long sabbatical from all these vices. I believe that she’ll be fine, some tiny little voice inside me tells that she will be all hale and hearty. It isn’t going to be easy but my Japanese Princess is a woman of substance and has immense strength and she’ll get over this and someday soon I’ll see her smiling face sitting on the corner sofa in the living room with the lap top , a beer bottle on the side table, giggling to herself as she chats with her many friends. As I type this down I dread the thought of going back to that empty house. I don’t remember the time how it was when she wasn’t staying with Radhi and me. But it shall get better. Life has so much more to it and the past one week has yet again made me realise that it is more important to count our blessings and thank god for giving us the people who love us in our lives than pining for those who did not bother to or chose not to.

If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart..we'll always be with you.”

Ahem what a journey it could've been....

My Japanese Princess and I were supposed to go to this small town in Punjab last week as Radhi had lovingly invited us home for Diwali. Sadly on D Day as the countdown to leave had just begun Jap Princess went into one of those pensive and thoughtful moods of hers and came up with statements like “Pia I don’t know why but I get a feeling something is gonna go drastically wrong today.” Darn I am bloody scared of this woman and her intuitions cause as long as her predictions are happy and cheerful it is all hunky dory but when they sound as unfortunate as this then one cannot really help but dread what is in store for them. Besides both of us had not exactly warmed up to the idea of an overnight journey across Punjab in a bus so I was doubly worried and to top it all my darlin’ is the sort who hasn’t even been on a train all her life, let alone a local bus that would carry her right into the heartland of rural Punjab. Anyways I had to act like Miss Know It All who has been living out for the last 7 years and that too in a state like Maharashtra. I also told her how I had been used to travelling by the General Class from Pune to Bombay and not to forget the local trains there. I remember the chaotic train stations especially Dadar and how I would get carried away with the fisher women and the vegetable vendors as they jostled and made their way through to get off at Dadar. That city had some zest for life. I can almost miss it sometimes. There I go again. I am the Queen of Nostalgia. This isn’t about Bombay and I am not a naive 21 year old anymore.
Sorry for digressing and to come back to my story Jap Princess and I had finished packing when Teddy volunteered to drop us to the Bus Stop. We were more than happy to accept the offer as going all the way to the “Purani Dilli” railway station a day before Diwali can be a tiresome experience as we live half the way across the city in South Delhi. We were dreading the traffic as a day before Delhi roads had been choked what with Diwali and Dhanwantary I think the entire city was in a race against time to purchase gold and gifts. Thankfully we got out of GK2 and proceeded to Khelgaon Marg and finally hit Ring road and yeah yeah yeah it was worse than we imagined. It took us an hour and half just to cross a 5km stretch and this journey was interspersed with frantic calls to the Bus guy asking him to make the bus wait. Finally we reached the bus stop only to see the bus leave right in front of our eyes. We ran across all the muck and the mire and screamed, waved our arms wildly and voila’ they actually stopped. After a hurried good bye to Teddy, Jap Princess and I boarded the bus and what a sight greeted us. It was a sleeper bus firstly and I don’t know why but I had nursed the idea that it would be like the luxurious Bombay Pune Volvos. I couldn’t have been more wrong. There were strange men sleeping on the top berths casting sly glances at us and moreover two of our seats were occupied by 4 men and they were delighted to make room for us.
Japanese princess was half in tears as she looked at me and said “Pia I can’t travel like this.” I was so relieved that she said it first before I did cos the idea did not appeal to me anymore and the men looked really shady and there was almost something devious about the entire set up with the dim lights and faded blue interiors. The last straw was when this oily haired man sitting on one of the top berths said “Come baby why don’t ya sleep with me up here”. I snarled at him and turned around and told Jap princess “We are getting down” and so we did promptly enough. We called Teddy at the nick of the time and asked him to wait, called up Radhi and apologised profusely for not coming but travelling in that bus would have been like swimming in a sea full of sharks. Teddy was so cute and Radhi silly as she is blamed herself for getting such bad tickets for us. We lost our way as we took a cycle rickshaw to where Teddy’s car was parked and on the way some drunkard came and tried to pull Jap Princess’s bag from her and she screamed“Piaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”. The Cycle Rickshaw driver pushed him away as he fell on the road given the inebriated state he was in. It was some adventure as we finally found Teddy and sat in the car. Both of us just wanted to go homeeeeeeeee. Mum called somewhere amidst all the hullaboo and I updated her on the eventful evening we’d had and instead of the sympathies I thought I would receive Mum was livid saying how could we ever think that two of us young women would travel across Punjab at night time minus any male escorts. Ahhhh well I have learnt my lesson. We came back home gleefully and three days were spent lazing around, going to card parties, shopping at Khan Market, catching up with my reading and thanking our lucky stars that we did not go ahead with the journey which might have been perilous heheh!
Alls well that ends well :).

Celebrate Light Celebrate Life

Heyyylllyooooo everybody! I wish all of you a Happy Happy Diwali. Let the lights shine and show you the way forever and ever. I have made a promise to myself this time, at least I shall try to. I shall not be pessimistic. I shall not delve in the darkness and thrive in self pity as I seem to be doing so often. I shall live life to the fullest, living life as if that is all there is. I am not gonna put my spirits down, I am gonna let it soar in the sky like it wants to. I shall not believe that dreams never come true. Maybe they do. Sometimes I feel the years go by so fast, wonder how I ever made it through. So many places, so many people, some mere faces, some etched in my memory eternally, some who find their way back time and time again and some who are still trying to tip toe their way into it or was I imagining?

To all the people we love at different time
In different ways the different lives lead
The lives we flee
The lives we dream
Hope all your dreams come true
And this time some of mine too.

WHAT IS BEHIND THAT MASK?

It was a masquerade party and the masks had to be bought. She wasn’t as excited she had been planning the party a week back. Life wasn’t as bright it had been a month ago. Was it a month really, just a month that she met him and now it was all over? But then was there a beginning ever or was she imagining it all? When they asked him how long had he known her he’d be surprised himself when he answered saying “a few weeks”. It did not feel like that, not at all. Sometimes he felt he had known her forever. Funny but they hadn’t exchanged more than a greeting all those years when they lead parallel lives so close to each other.
She had been taken aback when he had asked her to meet up for drinks on a Wednesday night but she went and came back all happy and giggly courtesy the three Bloody Mary’s . They hadn’t spoken as much but had just sat next to each other listening to the music in the pub and laughing every now and then. He’d clicked innumerable pictures that day of the both of them as they tried really hard to appear sober but failing miserably as their droopy eyes gave them away. She felt as if he couldn’t have enough of her as she tried really hard to fight those unwanted feelings away. He was taken, a long long time back. She met him too late and now he was Mira’s. Darn lucky woman she thought.
He’d been the one who’d started talking about him self as he spoke about his past, his family, his favourite cousins and even his childhood crushes. Where had he been all these years she thought. Time flew past by when she was with him, they spoke so much that often they wouldn’t be aware of the loud music being played as they exchanged story after story. One day he’d jokingly told her “Think we knew each other before. You are so bloody similar to what I am. “ She ‘d just smile and not say a word. She was happy, she hadn’t been this happy in years.
The most wonderful part about being with him was the laughter, they laughed a lot, both of them, they giggled and smiled, even when on the phone both of them would start their conversation on a fit of giggles and how could she ever forget all the music as they sang themselves hoarse in the car since it didn’t have a music system. It was pure sunshine after a rainy day. However at the back of her mind she always knew that Mira is coming back and that Mira was the closest to his heart. She’d ask god “Then who am I? Why do I feel the way I do?” His past was Mira’s , his future too was Mira’s then where did she fit in? They say live in the present and she did that.
Mira was back and she invited Mira too for the masquerade party. Mira was tiny with an elvish face and amazing zest for life. She loved the way Mira danced and the first time all of them met up after a while she became a silent spectator to the scene unfolding in front of her eyes. She bought masks for both of them that day when she went mask shopping. A pink and green for Mira and a yellow one for him as Mira had instructed her. Yeah how ironical this was a masquerade party and what better than a mask to hide all that she felt. But would these frivolous feathers be enough, what about the eyes, the eyes always gave her away. They filled up with her salty tears with such an ease.

The bell rang as the guests came in one by one, each wore beautiful masks in brilliant colours. He came too with Mira and she opened the door and greeted both of them warmly. “Where is my mask?” He whined like a little child. She handed him his mask. She was already wearing hers. It was a burnt orange one. He put his on as Mira was trying hard to fix hers. Mira looked like a little pixie with her mask as she clung on to him grinning, happiness radiating through her. She walked away, talking to the others, asking them if she could get them a drink, slowly she retrieved to the dark corner in the terrace . A lone tear glistened in her eyes as she looked up at the sky filled with stars. Another mask, the sky wore its gorgeous black velveteen mask sprinkled with stars. Maybe the sky too had much to hide from view of the world just like she did. “What is behind that mask?” somebody whispered softly behind in her ears. She turned around to find a masked stranger. She looked into his eyes, they were hazel in colour. It struck her then that two whole months spent with Neil but she didn’t know the colour of his eyes. She had never dared to look into them and he had never come that close. The fences had always been there, pristine white picket fences but she had chosen to be blind to them. Not anymore. Never again.

“So are you gonna tell me what is behind that mask or maybe I can see right through it.” Said the stranger. She chuckled as she was awaken silently from her reverie. He could see traces of her dimples as they the smile lit up her face , he could make out the cleft and the tiny mole under her lips. She smiled as she ripped the mask of her face .The mask was gone, lost somewhere in the darkness of the night.

Oh frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! :)"

It is so not like me to be putting up more than a post a week but I feel this urge to capture these reflections on life and passing times. Yes last night as we sat in my living room and chatted, reminiscing old days, happy days, the crazy us that used to be, hilarious anecdotes spread generously over five years spent together, for a fraction of a moment I felt like framing this evening and freezing it in time forever and ever. It is lovely to have Fido Dido around. Its lovely to see S and Fido Dido together high fiving on some stupid, amusing joke or just plain listening to their repertoire of stories. Speaking of which I had to, just had to share this small funny episode about S’s tomfoolery. This one time S was escorting a US returned cousin of his around his farm in Jammu. They had just walked into the driveway as a herd of buffaloes crossed the road after their customary evening dip in the pond nearby. Both S and his cousin did not pay much attention to the buffaloes, as S was busy pointing out the landmarks when they came across this water body. S’s cousin got very excited and started jumping around saying “Oh my gosh you guys have a pool too in the farm. Nobody told me. Could I please go for a swim?” S nodded his head well knowing that this wasn’t any swimming pool but just a pond for the animals to laze around in the hot summer evenings and that the buffaloes they had passed by a few moments ago on the road had just spent a merry summer afternoon there in the very same waters. But then the funny bone that S has he let his cousin swim in those filthy waters. I couldn’t stop laughing. I mean where does he hatch all these ideas and if one meets him on a normal day one would feel how prim, proper and well mannered this man is hahaha!
Incidentally I spent two very monotonous hours at the airport yesterday waiting for Fido Dido’s flight to land. I tried calling up people to kill time but they politely said no to me saying they cannot entertain me in the middle of the afternoon. I was loitering around listening to music on the radio and all of a sudden this man started making idle conversation with me. I tried to convey real graciously that I really was in no frame of mind to indulge in such social niceties but he refused to take the hint. I would turn my face away and he would come up with questions like “Yeah the Spice Jet flight from Calcutta is really late. So are you a native of Delhi?” I’d nod and look to the other side. Finally he asks me “ Aap yahan studies karti hain kya? ( Are you are studying over here?) I shook my head. “ Koi company mein kaam karti hain kya?” ( So you working in some company?) All this while I hadn’t bothered looking at his face and replying but this question was the last straw as I turned and looked at him in his eyes saying “Haanji main kaam karti hoon. Wakil hoon.” I saw the astonished look on his face and lo behold he was gone as he darted across the pavilion and disappeared into the crowd. Strange but all I needed to tell him was “Main wakil hoon.” and he knew that I wasn’t that innocent little thing I look like hahaah!

Finally I heaved a sigh of relief as all the 6ft 3 inches of Fido Dido walked out of the arrival lounge with his trolley. Fido Dido and S share the most amazing chemistry that best buddies share after spending half a decade in close contact and they have these famous and utterly idiotic arguments on which school is better as both of them went to boarding schools. S is from Mayo College and Fido Dido is from Doon School and darn it is me stuck in the middle as they try to outdo each other as S calls the Doscos “Gay Pansies” and Fido Dido has his retort ready screaming out aloud saying “ Looser Mayo Fuckers” hahaha! And then there is poor me who hasn’t spent a day of her life in any boarding school. Sigh! Coincidentally my roomie’s friend Gul was down from Calcutta too so last night after all of them came home after work we had a gala time as the alcohol bottles were gotten out after almost a week’s sabbatical. All thanks to Navratra I have been forced to convert into a staunch vegetarian sans’ any onion and garlic because Radhi fasts trying very hard to put on the garb of a religiously inclined person but failing quite miserably and gleefully heheh! I had wine after almost 2 weeks and yes yes I got all tipsy and happy and Fido Dido was a little surprised and he asked S “Does she drink this much? Cos in Pune she wouldn’t.” Now S and I were mere acquaintances in Pune and have started hanging around together only the last two months so as long as he has known me he has known the drunkie me and we call each other drunkie jokingly cos initially we bonded over alcohol before we finally figured that no we actually have a nice time without intoxicants too. S looked back at him saying “Yeah she always drinks an entire bottle of wine and trips on her own.” For christ’s sake those two men make it sound like I lead a life of debauchery hahah! Men I tell you are so judgemental :|. For the record I hate sharing my wine from the deepest core of my heart. I don’t give my wine bottle to no one heheh! Later we went to this new karaoke place called Acquafer in GK2 and sang our hearts out. I was so so happy as having my buddies from college around was an icing on the cake. I sang Ironic after such a long time and thoroughly enjoyed myself as I crooned “ its like meeting the man of your dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife. Isn’t it ironic?” S and I also sang his all time favourite song “That Thing You Do” . I hadn’t sung it the week before cos S couldn’t make it and I was waiting for him to be around and sing in unison :). T’was such a loweeeelllllllyyyyyy loweeeeellllllyyyyyyy evening with friends, lots of laughter, walks down the memory lanes, music, wine, singing a bit of dancing and yup plans too about the future that seems to have endless possibilties for each one of us :).

Cause I had a Bad Day

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep

Some of my most loved lines from my favourite poem since I was a child. Always gives me inspiration when I am down and out, when I feel there is nothing to look forward to in life, when I feel I need a reason to smile as I wake up each morning. I tell myself that there is so much more to do, so many places to see, new people to meet and this isn't the end. There shall be a new day, a new way, a new start and it shall be alright. Someday all of these higgeldy piggeldy pieces of jigsaw puzzle shall fit in perfectly into one complete picture. I know that I am stronger than what I think I am and that I can go on longer than I think I can. I really do not know what future has in store for me but I pray and hope that the past is not repeated. I hope that someday I'll have my story and I won't just be a bystander watching from outside. I hope that I won't get rude shocks that put an end to everything I believed in. I want something to believe in, I really need to be able to believe that I won't be on the receiving end time after time. I hope that someday this cynical me filled with negative feelings can let go of all the insecurities. I hope that someday there shall be stability which I crave for. I pray that someday this so called unfair life dishes out something marvellous for me that shall be mine forever.

Where is the moment when I need it the most?

I kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

Why is the blue sky fading to grey?

Why has the passion gone away?

And I don't need no carrying on....

DREAM ON

Anansi tagged me and as a rule I don’t like doing tags but this one was different and I just could not resist myself and my interpretation of this would be a chronicle of my changing dreams over the years. This has to be an account of some of my happiest and saddest memories, of wishes long forgotten, of moments that shall remain etched in my mind, of longings and disappointments, a delicious walk down the memory lane. Well dreams could be wishes too. So this is gonna be a comfortable mish mash of dreams, wishes and desires.

My earliest dream was as a 4 year old and I wanted my Dad to come back home and be with us as one whole family. Dad was hardly around except for the holidays as he was in the army and I always felt incomplete without him. I longed for him to be back so that we could be a family. Strangely I don’t think my Dad even has an inkling of how much I missed him all those years back as we graduated to having a tumultuous relationship in my mid teens and we’d have the most horrible fights just short of flinging pots and pans at each other. He disapproved of me going out as much as I did and I was as stubborn as he was and wouldn’t budge an inch. I was struggling with my own issues and inferiority complexes and trying to find my own footing in the changing world. But Dad just failed to understand that and he wanted me to be the model child, which I wasn’t. We’d fight like cats and dogs especially when I wanted to go to Pune for college until Mum made him understand that he has to let me go and live my life the way I want to. He gave in and it has been almost three quarters of a decade ever since and Dad and I made peace with each other. Now I can actually sit by his side and sip my wine as he has his customary peg of rum each evening and we’d happily exchange stories and varied experiences.

I also dreamt of being pretty and thin. I was plump as I ate like a pig all those years. I was never fat but plump yeah and my luck that all my friends were thin and slight and I was quite tall for my age and big built. I hated it so much, detested my body that time and I had such a negative body image that it has taken years for me to appreciate what I really have now. Weight has always been a tiny issue for me but in school it was such a big issue. Though if you ask my friends they’d never say I was fat but I don’t know why I always thought I was. I was pretty in my own way and if I’d known that guess I would have looked so much nicer. When I see my old pictures I always have that perpetual frown on my face or trying hard to smile. Now I smile entirely too much and some of my closest friends say that my smile is infectious. I know that weight is gonna be a struggle to maintain and even till the beginning of this year I had put on oodles of weight due to my nocturnal life style and nefarious activities that would include drinking binges a little too often. But 6 months and I lost it all and I am still working at it. Mum was so surprised when she met me this time. I am even taking part in the Delhi Half Marathon on the 28th of October cos when I was 20 and I’d first started jogging I dreamt of participating in the Mumbai International Marathon. Life took me a different way altogether but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to do the same things, it maybe a different city and a different time and new people but it is still a marathon and it is still me who believes that running makes me feel good about myself and more in control, makes me believe that I can do it however impossible my goals might seem.


When I was 8 I dreamt of a time when my Dad would be a Brigadier and I could show of to the rest of the army brat pack as my Dad commanded a brigade and I got to travel in those fancy decorated cars with sirens and flags. That never happened cos my father got superceded and years later I promised myself that someday my younger sister and I would make him so proud of us and we would make up for what happened to him. My sister is one hell of a kid, and nobody ever thought she would do as well as she did as she faced her own failures and rose above all that and left all of us spell bound. I keep my fingers crossed as I write this because she is my dearest little prankster and all of 19. As for me I wanna study some more. Probably get a P.H.D and I wanna go abroad and see some more of the world. I lead quite a wandering life as a child as we shifted our base every two years and as an adult too I have been on the move since 18. But now I wanna give myself a chance to study something I love and I know I am passionate about. When I started working and hated my job as much as I did only the thought of studying some more kept me alive. I would be so disillusioned and dejected but I knew that there shall be a new tomorrow someday and that was hope enough. Everybody would be leaving but me and every time anyone gave his or her GRE I’d wonder when my time would come. Well my time is definitely coming next year and FALL 2009 I shall be in Boston COME WHAT MAY.

Not to forget I dreamt of being in love, being in love with someone who would love me for what I was. He would have to love the stupid me, the silly me, the child in me and understand where my insecurities come from. My dream of being in love has been fleeting and sometimes I think I have reveled in self-pity. I didn’t wanna get out of that phase. But I was 18 and utterly idiotic and bewildered. I didn’t even know where all those emotions were coming from. I use to believe in soul mates too but that myth has also been shattered. I don’t know what to believe in. This other plan I devised of keeping away from emotional trauma worked for a year until a little while back when my world turned topsy-turvy all of a sudden and I am left baffled and breathless and it is back to square one. There is no way out of this vicious circle and the ever-elusive love. I am back to writing sentimental, soppy posts and darn it comes so naturally. I like to believe I am a rational human being but apparently there is no logic that works with this. Sounds a wee bit melodramatic but S came out of nowhere and changed my life. I don’t even know what hit me. I dread to imagine how it shall be without him around. I was talking to one of my closest friends P in Bangalore today and she chuckled when she heard the whole story and when I said “I am like a falling star who has finally found her place next to another in a lovely constellation,
Sigh! I don’t even dare to dream how it can be if I ever get to be with s.

So that’s that. The dreams, which I wove, the castles in the air I built and life goes on and we dream some more and we dream on and on……

Dream On Dream On Dream On
Dream until your dreams come true
Dream On Dream On Dream On
Dream until your dream comes through
Dream On Dream On Dream On


I tag Raaji, Renovatio and She.

I WISH I KNEW YOU BEFORE

I wish I knew that someone so akin to me was living right next door all those years. I wish I knew that you liked blue over all the other colors and that you prefer pizza to Thai food. I wish I knew that you hated Chinese with the same passion with which I loved it and that my favorite storybook character is your favorite storybook character too. I wish I knew that you didn’t love what you were doing just as much as I didn’t.

I wish I knew that there is someone who dreams just as much as me. I wish I knew that there could be someone goofier than me. I wish I knew that there is actually someone who doesn’t understand my sarcasm and believes all the fairy stories I tell. I wish I knew that someone could go on and on singing those annoying songs in a half broken voice without a thought for my poor ears.

I wish I knew that Sundays could be as much fun, that one could get their car serviced, catch 2 movies, oscillate from one mall to another in the heat, eat brownies and drink gallons of iced teas and window shop all in one day. I wish I knew someone who’d ask me to purchase the weekly groceries when I am in the middle of an oh so important meeting. I wish I knew that some times haphazard plans with an almost stranger turns out to be a lively and charming affair.

I wish I knew someone who could spend hours and hours with me talking about the most innocuous things. I wish I knew that there could be someone who likes sharing childhood memories and funny family anecdotes with me. I wish I knew that someone would want to meet me as much as I want to meet that someone. I wish I knew that someone could walk into your life one fine day and some things would never be the same again.

Darn I wish I knew you, I so wish I knew you before.

"Like a firefly that burns bright...he came suddenly, out of the dark sky. He hovered around for a little while, he lit up my days with laughter and smiles. Then he vanished just as suddenly, my dear firefly."

I've been waiting for that bright sunshine to show up and shine in my back door someday.

Yesterday was probably one of my lowest days in the recent past. I got up in the morning with that sinking feeling at the pit of my stomach. That makes you feel all gloomy and morose, as if something is going to go wrong very soon. I hate those feelings, cos they are almost always correct or rather I like to believe it is. My first thought as I opened my eyes was how the hell am I supposed to last one whole day in the office feeling the way I do. I felt miserable that my castle of cards that I’d built with so much love is going to come crashing down very soon. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my tired face starring back at me, I had dark circles under my eyes, more so because I hadn’t bothered to remove the kajal properly the night before, my hair was tied untidily and my skin looked sallow. I couldn’t see even a trace of the rosy glow on my skin, which everyone had been talking about. I didn’t feel pretty. But again this isn’t about me being disappointed about the way I look. It doesn’t take too much of an effort to look nice really. A good shower and hair wash and its done.. I was content looking as haggard as I was looking. I felt depressed about my job. That thought has been eating away a part of my mind consistently for a while now. I am supposed to get confirmation of my employment after a year of working as a trainee and as the end of the week approaches I am getting jittery about being sent away to some other city. I don’t want to leave this city right now.
More than anything I am not in love with doing what I do and I find it hard explaining it to people that even though it doesn’t sound too bad I just do not like dealing with inanimate objects day in and day out. I have been getting nightmares about being handed my transfer orders by the end of the week. I was wondering if I should just look for a new job and I keep hearing about these tempting jobs that are offering so much more than I am earning. But changing jobs and starting from scratch again scares me a little. I know I will eventually. I cannot imagine working here forever. I wonder whom have I been trying to fool the last one year. I keep telling myself I like what I am doing. But I do not.

To top it all I have been on a hiatus to a different world lately. It was most unexpected. Its like bumping into some part of you which you didn’t even know existed. Someone that makes you get through the week. Like a treat that is yours for a brief period of time but is somebody else’s forever in reality. It’s a glorious feeling, its there but not there. You don’t want to loose it but you know you shall. The end was decided a long long time back. You wonder why do you feel the way you do. You question yourself and leave it at that. Doesn’t matter really. So if the first wretched thought in the morning also includes loosing the “happy and cheerful you” you have discovered then it does seem like life is so meaningless. What am I living for? Disappointing job, bye bye happiness, hullo loneliness. I don’t know how many phone calls I made last morning just trying to get over the morning blues. I called up Boss and said “I am not feeling well Sir so would it be alright if I don’t come in today.” He says “Yeah it is alright. Anyways what am I supposed to do if you aren’t feeling fine.”

How rude was that. Mind you I have taken only 8 days off the entire year. That made me doubly dejected. I called up Mum but she was in the midst of a class and cancelled my call. I sat and moped around all day, cried lots and lots, sent the longest mail to my best friend in Dubai pouring out my heart to her saying how I am about to loose everything that matters to me right now and I don’t even know how to build it all back. Can anyone teach me how to make sunshine, really the kinds that keeps you eternally happy? Would I need shine only or should I sprinkle some fairy dust into it too and a dash of happiness and a dollop of laughter, some gossamer too? I listened to “Romeo and Juliet” all morning like a complete fool only to realize that probably the song is making me feel even sadder. However as the day drew to an end making way for the evening I realized enough is enough. No more reveling in self-pity had to be woken up someday from this reverie and today had to be the day. I am going to face whatever has to be faced. If it means a change of job then be it, if it means loosing sunshine then be it. I’ll find some more some day. Someday I’ll come face to face with it again. There has to be a teeny meeny bit more sunshine hidden somewhere in this world. For dreamers like me there has to be more sunshine…

There Is Something In The Air

There is something in the air these days, wonder if it is the slightest bite of the nip. Yeah I can feel the winter coming, can feel it in my bones. Summer is finally coming to an end. Oh the hot and steamy summer, the blast of the heat, the endless sighs and whines, the shimmering whites,the pretty pinks, and the the cooling greens.


There is something in the air these days, wonder if its contentment. Maybe it is because I laid to rest a lot questions and made peace with the riot of emotions that threatened to spill them selves out of the maze of my mind. Or is it something wholly inane like how beautiful the old peepul tree looks in the evening time in light of the dying sun from my veranda.


There is something in the air these days, think it is autumn welcoming itself into this world grown weary with the summer. From the part of the world I left behind I can almost hear the approaching sound of the “dhak”( drums) and the priest’s voice chanting hymns aloud as the teeming millions come together to pay homage to the Goddess or maybe its the musky smell of the incense stick that overpowers everything that comes its way.


There is something in the air these days. Wonder if it’s magic or is it you who makes me so happy? Maybe it is the endless hours spent trying to be around each other or looking for excuses to be with you, feel your touch, or is it the conversations we have away from the prying eyes of the harsh world, revealing bits and pieces of our selves slowly and steadily or maybe it is the laughter I share with you and the dreams we weave.


There is something in the air these days. Wonder if it’s the shadows growing longer. Or is it the colorful pictures you keep clicking and transforming them into mellow sepia? Or is it me trying to live life to the fullest knowing that very soon this sojourn into my dreams will be over and we’ll go back to our ordinariness left with nothing but fragments of old forgotten conversations, and sepia tinted memories.

They Said

They said she was an adorable baby, apple of her mother’s eye, daddy’s darling.

They said she was a pretty kid blessed with a sunny disposition, mischievous, playing a million pranks and getting into a soup ever so often.

They said she was an awkward child with spectacles, her nose glued to the books, a stutter that showed its ugly face in every sentence she uttered.

They said she stammered and they ridiculed her in class. She’d never answer the questions asked despite knowing the answers. She didn’t wanna be laughed at.

They said she was unattractive, quite a dunce, flunking in Math and Chemistry with regularity. But she was passionate about History and Politics, had a love for English Literature. But that went unnoticed.

They said she was plump, graceless and uncoordinated and she can’t play basketball. She believed them and never tried.

They said she could barely talk without a stutter and showed no signs of any belief in herself. They didn’t know her who’d spend hours reciting Robert Frost’s poetry in front of the mirror, trying to perfect the art of talking in public without the stammer that put her down all the time. They didn’t know that she loved to sing too.

They thought she’d be a nobody. What would she do? She wasn’t half as smart or pretty as them.

And so they thought. Years passed by.

They saw her the other day. They couldn’t recognize the laughing, cheerful her. The one who looked so sure of herself. The one who seemed so different.

They don’t know and never will but she does stammer still, very slight. She struggles to accept the fact that she was born with a tiny speech handicap. But she tries, tries to overcome it. Maybe it’ll always be there. Paradox that life is, it did not stop her from going ahead and giving herself a chance to achieve her dreams. She did fail a lot of times. Adversity would always be there. However she charted her own course of life. Now she is trying, trying really hard to create that perfect balance. Most don’t realize that she stammers slightly. When she points it out to them they say it wasn’t conspicuous enough.

But its always there in her head, it’ll haunt her forever maybe. The resounding laughter of a bunch of schoolgirls echoes in her ears. The bane of her existence, the biggest chink in her armour. Sometimes she wonders if people notice the moments when she has to repeat the first half of the word twice or if they realize how breathless she gets during an argument. She strives to disguise it well, but was it good enough.
She detests it, loathes this weakness in her with a vengeance that is hard to understand. Some say she has a nice voice, sounds attractive, that she is witty and makes them laugh and comes across as someone oh so confident of herself. But there are bad days too, days when she feels miserable, days when everything threatens to fall apart, days when she feels that she’ll never be able to make it through and conquer this. On days like this the stammer takes on magnanimous proportions overshadowing everything happy in her life.

Words are a comfort, her pen is a balm on the mind that has grown old and tired trying to tame the speech that refuses to make peace with it. She loves writing, she has complete command on the words. She needn’t halt ever, she designs her own tempo, writes at her own pace. She ardently wished her speech could be like that unhindered, free, independent, fiery and tempestuous.

She dreams of a day when she’d be able to address a gathering with poise an élan that was the trademark of many an orator.

She dreams of a day when she’d be able to recite her favourite poetry unfettered, unbound like the swallow in the sky.

She dreams of a day when the remnants of this curse shall release all the words and set her soul free, her life and her being free, and set her spirit free forever and ever.


"They said you wouldn't make it so far a a
And ever since they've said it its been hard
With all your hopes and dreams you will believe
Even though it seems it's not for you
You won't give up, you'll keep it up
Looking to the sky
You will achieve on your knees
You will always believe that


I believe I can
I believe I will
I believe I know my dreams are real
I believe I'll chant
I believe I'll dance
I believe I'll grow real soon and
That is what I do believe"

YOU SAID GOODBYE AND HE SAYS HULLO

You are leaving this week. Seems this is a season of farewells. D left too without a word three weeks back. All he bothered sending me was an insipid reply to a message I sent him. He stopped talking to me slowly and steadily as the day for his departure came closer. I guess I stopped caring . I knew it was futile. Trying to hold on to something that was never there. Now you are leaving too. My best buddy for the last 6 months, someone who popped out of nowhere that day on g talk. I’d never thought that one evening of music, laughter, bloody mary’s and crispy lamb at TC would materialize into countless conversations, silly fights, drinking sessions, discussions on life, philosophizing, dreaming together, arguing, and bickering over trivialities. But then we always knew that this was the way it was gonna be. I adored the birthday present you gave me. You wanted to give me something different and so you thoughtfully bought me two pure silk scarves from the old shop where your grandmother use to purchase her silk sarees from. I am gonna treasure those notes you wrote for me during a drunken reverie swearing your undying affection . You were always leaving and you and I would make plans on how we’ll meet a few years later but this time in New York and we’d go drinking yet again to some shady little bar. Yeah even if you and I are married to different people we shall surely meet up and our spouses can go take a hike cos it would just be old friends bonding. Trust you to come up with such run of the mill ideas P.


The other day we finally managed meeting up after a week of misunderstandings and plans gone awry. I was looking forward to meeting you one last time. For a change I reached earlier and I was waiting patiently outside TGIF browsing through the menu, trying to make up my mind between Thai Spring Rolls and Pork Ribs when you said “BOOOOOO” and I turn around to find you standing; you had your backpack on and your funny shades. You were looking quite adorable although I refrained myself from saying so. Suddenly I noticed that there was someone standing beside you. You introduced him as your friend T and my first thought was hell couldn’t you have come alone since this was our last meeting for a long long time to come. Not that I wanted this to be a maudlin and weepy affair but again a stranger is not welcome at all at such inopportune instances. I gave a quick glance and said Hi as we went inside and sat on our table. I couldn’t really care because I was under the impression he’d be a non-participant in our conversations. Yeah those first few minutes T hardly spoke and I lambasted you for behaving in such a juvenile manner and sending me melodramatic messages. T was silent just smiling now and then. Then he started talking, with an exclamation here, a question there, passing some lewd joke about how much both of you loved each other and then both of you would yell “bitch” in unison to each other. I was so mortified as both of you made a mockery of each other confessing your eternal love in public. ( Feigning homosexuality is the flavour of the season ;) )

Somewhere in the course of the afternoon that wistful feeling in me that arose out of the endless goodbyes was replaced by something lighter and bubblier that threatend to come out on the surface, something that made me want to chuckle in delight as I got the better of T as we indulged in a fanciful repartee or ganged up against you and playfully ridiculed the female attention showered on you and he changed from P's friend to T for me. Bizarre as it sounds but meeting T was delightful , and left me with a smile long after both of you left. I can’t even point out what exactly it was or was it meeting a kindred soul in the last place I would expect to. Ironic isn’t it that our last meeting was the first time I met him. As if unknowingly you left me with a going away present. I know I’ll meet him again, I don’t know if we’ll be best pals like you and I were. But there is something. It is almost as if you said good-bye and he says hullo. Hullo, hullo, I don’t know why you said goodbye he says hullo.”

First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you. ~

Ahem a vice called alcohol. Well think I am the last person who should actually be talking about alcohol considering the fact that I didn’t start drinking until I was quite old. Na I never got drunk during my first few years in college. On the contrary I was the one who hadn't had a drop of alcohol ever. Everyone would be drinking, making merry and be all happy while I was the one who was completely under the iron controls of sanity and my senses would be wide alert doing a double take. All those years I’d wonder what makes my friends act giggly and even mellow after drinking. Strange as it sounds I didn’t even try experimenting as most young college goers would until much later well into my early twenties. However I’d be lying if I do not accept that sometimes I’d actually feel a little out of place because so many inebriated people around you when one is in a solemn state of mind does make you wish that you could feel the same. I’d have a few sips here and a few sips there and make faces like a child does and say "Arghhhhhhh".
But there were intoxicants I did try eventually. On my 20th birthday I got stoned for the first time in my life and wow that was such a hilarious trip I. I can still hear myself screaming “whoopsie daisies” at the top of my voice and the look on the faces of my surprised friends. No one had ever seen me inebriated before. I didn’t hear the end of it for the next few years. After that day I’d smoke up once in a while and enjoy my hiatus to the other world. I remember the craving for anything sweet after we were stoned and also a particular incident when this guy I smoked up with got me chocolate at 1 at night just to satisfy my sweet tooth. Those were heady days; we were students, perennially broke and counting pennies all the time. Maybe it was the state of our minds at that time in our lives that made us want to try weed and the likes of it. I recollect a time when I had one too many a joint and it was a wild, crazy trip when I felt I was flying. I remember distinctly lying on my bed and that uplifted feeling as if the bed was soaring high into the sky like Alladin’s magic carpet ( now I know that it definitely wouldn’t be as much fun as it does look like in the animated film)and I was praying to god so hard saying “Please please I promise not to smoke up for a long long time .”

I didn’t touch weed after that for a while. The next time when I did start smoking up was a hard time in my life when I was trying to put a part of my past behind. Weed was my way out, made me forget those feelings that didn’t seem to go away in the light of the day, feelings that haunted me and made life miserable for me. So I’d smoke a joint everyday at night and go to sleep with this heightened sense of superficial happiness that faded away in the brightness of the morning sunshine and made me feel all hollow and empty from inside. I’d do that day after day, I’d be all cuckoo at night and in the morning I’d be in tears trying to hide my sobs under the quilt. That phase of mine ended too when one fine day I confessed to my Mum about how dejected I was and she took it so well. She asked me to stop and come home for a bit. By the time I came back I was a different person. I realized smoking up was never the answer. I’ve seen too many people destroy their lives due to their addiction to weed. I’ve seen the smartest of men just waste them selves doing substances.

Drinking on the other hand has been amusing. Drunken soiress can be quite comical.Yeah sometimes I do drink a wee bit too much and I am woozy and happy and such a kid. The last party we had just before we graduated was a lively affair and I was so drunk, I’d been drinking with my best friend and her boyfriend and and I was on top of the world, rather the zenith. I gave a peck on the cheek to all the guys in the pub that night needless to say the next afternoon when I bumped into a few of them they had those secret smiles on their faces. I felt sooooo silly. I refrain from acting in such a ridiculous manner now but darn I do fail every once in a while. I have to mention all those phone calls one makes to your loved one(one sided) under the influence of alcohol. Damn in the recent past everytime I have done so all I have heard from the other side of the line is "You are drunk again.Don't drink too much.What is wrong with you? What are you doing with your life?"Huh!Where did that come from? My life is going on mighty fine. Thank you but your concern is totally not needed.I resent him for making me sound like an alcoholic.Men give themselves entirely too much credit.Seriously it isn't always traumatic as they would like to believe. I might be the cocktail queen , what with my fixation with bloody mary's, mojitos and strawberry daiqris in different periods and very recently my love for wine but hell i ain't no alcoholic.

Who can ever forget the drunken singing, the drunken bonding, the confessions et al. It is another story that in the morning one would get up and all of that would appear downright ludicrous hahah! I took a sabbatical from drinking in the middle and apparently I’d become quite spiritless and stodgy according to my roomie. No body is as cute and entertaining ( in a nice way mind you) as me when drunk so I don’t deprive my friends anymore. Cheers to all of you :).

Now, I just want to play on my panpipes,
I just want to drink me some wine,
As soon as you’re born, you start dying,
So you might as well have a good time

To You

To the you I knew then

To the you I know now

To the you who made me deliriously happy at 18

To the you I shed tears and tears on

To the you who did not talk to me for 4 very long years

To the you who smiled at me one rainy day

To the you I got to know all over again to my utter surprise

To the you who fell ardently in love with someone who was so dear to both of us

To the you I pined for yet once more

To the both of you who were gloriously happy together

To the you who has this uncanny ability to make an appearnce in my life unannounced

To the you who astounded us all by pulling of no ordinary feat

To the you who is going through a trying time

To the you who is such a child at heart

To the you who is one of those very last one woman men

To the you who giggles at the most inoppurtune moments and thwarts my perfectly silly attempts at trying to make you smile

To the you who deserves all the joy, laughter and sunny days

To the you who can be the man I know you can be

For that you I wish for majestic lights in this dark night

For that you I say a silent prayer

Up, Up and Away

Minty did not want to sleep, not one bit, not at all. But Ma insisted that she slept for the customary 2 hours every afternoon. Poor Ma, the thought that for those two hours her very own, wanton of an elder daughter would be asleep leaving her with a few stolen moments of peace were a haven for her. Minty was irrepressible, a joyous concoction of energy, wit, mischief, and playfulness all rolled into one. All of 8 years old she was a voracious reader and often surprised her mother with her vocabulary and not to forget the seemingly endless questions.

“Ma is Grand Mamma 100 years old?”

“Who told you so Minty?”

“Raghu said that since her hair is as white as Cinderella’s Godmother in the fairy story then she has to be a hundred years old at least.”Ma hid the beginnings of a smile on her face as she turned her face away and replied rather nonchalantly “Yes Minty she is 100 years old.”

“If that’s what makes her happy.” Thought Ma.

It was a hot summer afternoon and Minty couldn’t think of a single reason why Ma would confine her within the four walls of the house when the whole world seemed to be beckoning her outside to come and play with them. If not for Ma she could climb the mulberry tree in the garden that lead to the roof of the garage and sit there all afternoon eating mulberries to her heart’s content, till her lips and hands turned purple with smudges of the violet mulberry juice and make faces at the ugly Pomeranian next door. She loved throwing stones at him and provoking him from the roof, getting a thrill out of the fact that he couldn’t get her and would have to be content barking at her while she did a little dance for him . She could have also run around the neighborhood in the dead of the afternoon when all the grown ups would be enjoying their siesta after a meal of fish curry and rice, and happily ring various door bells in succession and run away. What followed after that like a knee jerk reaction was a unanimous shout sounding like “Minnnnntyyyyyyyyyyyyyy”.

The whole neighbourhood knew Minty. She came down each year to visit her grandmother at her huge and ancient turn of the century house during summer holidays. She breathed life and joy into the 70-year-old mansion that had weathered many a storm and stood at the corner of the road living its twilight years. Grandmamma adored her elder grand child but couldn’t quite comprehend where her restlessness and naughty ideas originated from when neither Minty’s mother or Grandmamma herself had been particularly mischievous as kids. Grandmamma remembered rather proudly about the model little girl she had been except for an aberration here and there, she had always listened to her parents, praying twice a day, wearing sarees as soon as she turned 10 years old and playing houses with the china figurines her father gifted her from his trips to London.

Minty’s best friend was the gardener Nathu’s grandson Raghu. Nathu had worked at the Guha household for years together and Grandmamma was particularly fond of him because he knew just the right way to take tender care of her dahlias and managed growing her favorite green roses every winter. Nathu and Grandmamma shared a history too as they had been playmates when they were children. Grandmamma had been forbidden to play with boys as a child when one day she and Nathu were seen reenacting a wedding scene whilst going round and round an imaginary sacred fire. Grandmamma’s mother had freaked seeing that comical scene and thinking how her somber and solemn husband who had been bestowed with a particularly serious disposition, would react to his only daughter playing with a servant boy. From that day onwards-poor Grandmamma saw Nathu every evening only from her veranda roaming around in the garden all alone, cutting a sorry figure of a little boy missing his playmate while Grandmamma looked longingly at the garden and then at Nathu.

Strangely Minty and Nathu’s grandson Minty forged a friendship when Nathu got Raghu along with him to the house to help him with the chores in the garden. Raghu challenged her to climb the tallest tree in the garden and Minty never said no to such challenges that questioned her ability to outdo boys in any field.

“Of course I can climb that tree. I’ll climb it and show you, I’ll go up, up and away.”

“No you can’t. Girls can’t climb trees. Girls are sissies.”

“Just you wait and see. I’ll go up, up and awayyyyyyyyy.”

Minty followed by Raghu close to her heels frisked along the cobble stoned path and made her way to the jackfruit tree that stood in the middle of the garden towering over all the other trees. She surprised him and the whole household by climbing the highest branch in a matter of minutes and before long there was utter chaos as one of the servants complained to Grandmamma who rushed out to the garden to be greeted by the horrifying sight of Minty who had now been joined by Raghu entertaining the entire army of servants by their acrobatics of jumping from one branch to the other.

“See Grandmamma I am going up, up and away.” Minty shouted as she swung from one branch to another.

“Minty and Raghu come down right now at this very moment.”
Grandmamma was appalled by the public spectacle her grand daughter had made of herself.

“But Grandmamma we are having ever so much fun. I don’t wanna come down and nor does Raghu.” Minty looked at Raghu and he nodded in approval.

“Minty please come. God will punish you. Pious little girls do not climb jackfruit trees.” Wailed an exasperated Grandmamma hoping to instill the fear of God in Minty.

“ I am not scared of God. Besides I am sure he’d have fun too climbing this tree with me.”
“Minty come down right now or else Ma won’t let you play for the next 5 days.”
Now that was a possible threat and Minty couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to play for 5 whole days. Her little soul shuddered.

“Okie I’ll come down but only on the condition that you’ll make my favorite rice pudding with cashews and raisins and that you won’t tell Ma a word of this. “

“Yes I shall make the pudding and won’t tell your Ma either.” said a harassed Grandmamma. Minty and Raghu finally made their way down and received a hero’s welcome with shouts and claps as they were united with mother earth . Grandmamma took her grubby little grand child indoors and shooed the servants away asking them to get back to their work. Raghu was sent off home only to receive a thrashing from his nagging mother who had been at her wits end wondering where her son had vanished. Later that night after dinner content in her little world, Minty sat on the steps of the veranda with her bowl of rice pudding trying to find the raisins and cashews. She thought heard she something and she looked up at the sky just in time to see a shooting star zoom across. She smiled and softly whispered into the night “Up up and away.”

MYRIAD OF THOUGHTS

A myriad of thoughts running through my mind. Have to finish writing all these articles before that idiot pounces upon me yet again. I even have to finish drafting those unexciting lease agreements. Why does work seem to increase by leaps and bounds everyday? Wish I didn’t have to do this utterly ridiculous web content writing but I really need the money. I wish my salary was enough to suffice all my needs but sadly it ain’t and so I am compelled to do free lance writing that too content writing. It’s not even remotely close to the sort of writing I’d like to do. I earn peanuts compared to my former college mates and don’t even ask me why. I don’t have any rational answer to that. Oh I got an E Book of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and I am eager to read it but it has got to be at the cost of my eyes. Sigh! I am short sighted. My Mum was aghast when I called her up oh so gleefully in the morning telling her about my latest find only to be lambasted by her yet again saying “You’ll ruin your eyes. As if having bad eyesight wasn’t bad enough and having to sit online 9 hours a day besides all the hours you spend writing and surfing the net wasn’t worse now you wanna read a 638 page book on the desktop. You seem to have made semi blindness of your eyes a personal mission” I kept my mouth shut. I was of the opinion that Ma being the Harry Potter fan that she was would understand my jubilation but it was not to be. Sometimes it is just so pointless arguing with her and trying to make her understand that hell I cannot afford to shell out a thousand bucks in buying the book and that the e book was a boon from heaven. I was looking for this all time favourite quote of mine by Khalil Gibran, I found it all thanks to google. Sometimes I marvel at the amount of information available at the click of a mouse. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be for us to work without google, especially in doing the work I do when I have to sift through information day in and day out google is a blessing.

Very recently I fell in love with Sylvia Plath’s poetry and it is beautiful. Sadly she got all the recognition she had always craved for during her lifetime only after her sordid death. I was intrigued by her life with Ted Hughes . Assia Wevil’s entry into their picture perfect life changed it forever. Sylvia and Assia’s Dance Macabre was tragic. Anyways I am off now. My thoughts don’t seem to be following a particular pattern today.

Damn I have to go to Chandigarh today for arbitration and there was this particularly fun party I was looking forward to and it just happens to be today. I mean every Saturday I call up my house mates and say “Woman I can’t come out tonight since I have so and so work in office.” She doesn’t force me as she knows it is futile and so many of those times I actually sneak out with my college pals to TC or some other place. But this Saturday I actually wanted to go for this fancy dress theme party. [ yeah yeah call me a kidL]I wanted to be a gypsy woman with my colourful skirt bought from Pondicherry and a bandana with tassels and a peasant top. But no now I actually have super important work and I must say life is unfair. Why oh why sometimes does it seems that some people have it so easy while I seem to be running a race against time trying to manage so many things at the same time while I know a couple of people who do nothing but “drink wine and make merry”. No I wouldn’t wanna do just that ever. But sometimes, just sometimes I wish I was born rich. No not cos of the wine but for other dreams, that are oh so dear to my heart, dreams which if actually shape would get me where I want to in life. Yeah but drinking wine along the way definitely wouldn’t hurt ;).

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd

Sigh! I love Pope's poetry. Good Byee people. Hope you have a great weekend.