Quick Sand

Trust

2011-10-25T18:07:00.001+05:30

Nice line & so true.

Agar aap kisi ko dhoka dene me kamyab ho jao.
To ye mat samajhna ke wo kitna bewakoof hai.
Balki ye sochna ke use tum par vishvas kitna tha.

Until next time...

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Learnings

2011-10-23T23:19:00.001+05:30

From the Guru Granth Sahib...

" teri kismat da likyha tere to koi kho nai skda .. Je usdi mehar hove ta tenu o v mil jaega jo tera ho nai skda"

Until next time...

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Understand

2011-10-22T23:42:00.001+05:30

If u can't understand my silence, how will u understand my words...

Until next time...

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Repeat after me...

2011-10-22T19:49:00.000+05:30

Inner peace. Inner peace. Inner peace. Inner peace.
-Po Panda.

Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Mind over matter. Mind over matter.
-Nimmy

Until next time...
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Who Knows

2011-10-21T18:34:00.001+05:30

There is a Chinese story of an old farmer who had an old horse for tilling his fields. One day the horse escaped into the hills and, when all the farmer's neighbors sympathized with the old man over his bad luck, the farmer replied, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who
knows?" A week later the horse returned with a herd of wild horses from the hills and this time the neighbours congratulated the farmer on his good luck. His reply was, "Good luck? Bad luck? Who knows" Then, when
the farmer's son attempted to tame one of the wild horses, he fell off its back and broke his leg. Everyone thought this very bad luck. Not the farmer, whose only reaction was, "Bad luck? Good luck? Who knows?" Some
weeks later the army marched into the village and conscripted every able-bodied youth they found there. When they saw the farmer's son with his broken leg they let him off. Now was that good luck? Bad luck? Who knows?
Until next time...

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Thank you Angel!!

2011-10-18T22:00:00.002+05:30

I have an angel. And she is taking care of me.

So its 10 clock at night. I'm at vishal nagar. And there's not a single auto fellow ready to go till my place which is about 4 kms away. I walk into the empty lane that leads to my house cursing pune and the bloody unfairness of it all.
Suddenly a biker stops right in front me and is staring at me.
I'm like - shit. Bad idea to walk on an empty road. But what choice did I have. It was walking or spending the night on the road. So. Anyways. He's got his helmet on and he's wildy gesturing for me to hop onto his bike. I'm in almost in tears just about to run the other way when he says "L! Get on the bike! Its me, P!"
Oh! I know this person! He's a casual friend and I know him very cursorily. But the joy that runs through me on seeing him and his simple kind act - its enormous. I run , but this time upto him, almost hug him and hop onto the bike.
Situation went from pathetic to lucky in a second! Better start leaving office earlier now...

Thank you, Angel. And thank you, God.

:)

Until next time...
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Beautiful Monday!

2011-10-17T06:46:00.001+05:30

Its a monday morning, and I'm on my way to work (which is in another land far far away).
Everywhere I see, I'm getting signs that its going to be a beautiful day!
And then, that all-knowing-inner-voice whispers "love, its going to be a beautiful life."
I like.
At least this monday, I like.

Until next time...
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God Knows

2011-10-14T17:02:00.000+05:30

Cigarette ke dhue ka challa bana ke
Collar ko thoda sa upar chadhake
Sochna hai kya
Jo hona hai hoga
Chal pade hain fikr yaaron dhue mein udake

Until next time...

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I'm OK. Hope u r ok.

2011-10-07T20:33:00.001+05:30

So I'm thinking on another track since evening.
I'm thinking that he was good to me. He loved me, cherished me, handled my tantrums, advised me genuinely. It was fun to be with him.
It wasn't that he was mean & rude to me all the time. He was never.
Its just that unfortunately he had to make a choice between me n the parents.
This entire episode must be difficult for him as well. For I know that I did mean something to him.

I hope he's okay. I wish all the worlds happiness for him.

I'll be okay. Eventually.
I hope he's ok.

Until next time...
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The Last Supper

2011-10-07T15:08:00.001+05:30

The last time we went for dinner it was at copakabanna. I clicked this off their menu, not knowing how apt it would be to me in another few days.
If only I'd known it was my last dinner with him...

Until next time...
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"NOT AS HAPPY AS YOU"

2011-10-07T11:00:00.001+05:30

Courtesy, dad.

"NOT AS HAPPY AS YOU"
Sometimes in life we feel so blue,
But someone, somewhere is not as happy as you...

Somewhere far at the border when a soldier sleeps,
Missing his loved ones he silently weeps...

Somewhere a mother painfully sighs,
Coz her new born baby didnt open her eyes...

Somewhere a poor dad silently cries,
When he sees his son begging for a bowl of rice...

Somewhere is an orphan a little girl's sad,
When she misses her mom n dad...

So at times a reason to smile you may not have any,
Say to yourself that you're happier than many....

Coz life is beautiful and
its not always blue,
And someone, somewhere is not as happy as you!

Right now I'm thinking no one is as sad as me :(

Until next time...
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Promise

2011-10-07T10:55:00.001+05:30

One day you will miss me, that's a promise.

Until next time...
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Morale booster (2)

2011-10-07T10:54:00.001+05:30

This one from Christina... Thanks girl.. Perfect timing u've got!

A well known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?"Hands started going up.He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this." He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up.He then asked, "Who still wants it?"Still the hands were up in the air."Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.He picked it up, now all crumpled and dirty. "Now who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air."My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way.We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. You are special - Don't ever forget it!

Another tweet...
No matter hw intelligent nd hw sorted u think u r evry once in a while a person cms into ur life to prove to u tht u r the biggest idiot evr

Lol. So true. I feel like a fucking idiot right now.

Until next time...
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Morale booster(1)

2011-10-07T10:47:00.001+05:30

A series of morale boosting quotes, smses, tweets and emails.
To help me remember my worth.

Every relationship has its own story,it might be bad or gud,it might be happiness or might sorrow,but u r the Author,u can end with tears or with smile..

Until next time...
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Not worth it

2011-10-07T09:24:00.001+05:30

So he was supposed to take this last chance kind of thing with the parents.
4th night - didn't happen.
5th night - didn't happen.
6th night - was the deadline.
The absence of a phone call from his end last night implies that either he didn't try or it was rejected.
I believe he didn't try.
I hadn't hoped for anything to change, but I did hope that he'd try. For all that we had, this one last chance.
He told me that the parents always asked him what he was getting out of this relationship - my circumstances were pathetic, I wasn't as pretty as aishwarya rai and hence circumstances couldn't be overlooked, I wasn't even the same caste.
Towards the end I felt that he too thought like that.
That for him, I wasn't worth taking that one last chance.
He did love me once, I can swear by that for I could feel it then.
But somewhere, sometime this love started diminishing.
He cares for me, but as a friend. Even his tone was like that of a friend in the last few phone calls. Gone was the love I could hear in his voice.
A fresh wave of memories assaults my mind.. Bringing with it fresh tears.

Until next time...

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Memories(3)

2011-10-06T21:41:00.000+05:30

I just found the tray of the old silver zen in the store room where I had hidden it.
Brings back memories of the first day we took delivery @ swar gate; how we slowly upgraded it with a new deck; got speakers fit; accessories & all that. Driving to aundh, sunny car and what not shops. The accident, the running around for insurance, the negotiations, the deal.
I remember screwing out the speakers from this tray for the new car.
As I throw this tray out today, I can't help but relate to it.
A thing that was once loved, but now useless. Its left in a corner & it stands there with a huge hole in it.

Until next time...

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Circumstances

2011-10-06T13:06:00.001+05:30

So, as a person, I'm supposedly good enough.
But its my circumstances that are the problem.
" I chose you, not your circumstances" he said.
Unfortunately, its a package deal. Me. My circumstances.
I didn't choose them either, my circumstances. I was a 20 year old kid. Wonder for how long that one incident will affect the rest of my life.
My friends are telling me that they will find me another. But I tell them no point.
No one is going to accept my circumstances.
I guess it I me & myself for the rest of my life.

Until next time...
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My Faith v/s The Rest of The World.

2011-10-06T10:24:00.001+05:30

Many people told me, warned me, that this is how it would end.
He himself told me a million times that this was the probable end.
But I didn't listen. I just heard it and ignored it.
For I had faith.
Faith in my love.
Faith in him.
Faith in his ability to give it a happy ending.
And I had faith in my God.
It was My Faith versus The Rest of The World.
Looks like The Rest of The World won this round.

Until next time...

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Memories (2)

2011-10-05T22:14:00.001+05:30

Cabbie is palying an apt song
"Lagjaa gale, ki fir ye haseen raat ho na ho.. Shayad fir is janam mein mulakat ho na no.."
Pheonix mills. Vile parle. Nm. Worli sea face. Nariman point. Activa. Zen. I10. Office. Wipro. College. S3. Pune. Blore. Mumbai. Bandra. Lonavala. Mahabaleshwar. Petrol. Mileage. Expressway. Gym. Diet.

There are no tears left inside of me. Today.
Tomorrow is a new day.
Good night, love u, sweet dreams. Bye.

Until next time...
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Memories (1)

2011-10-05T21:43:00.001+05:30

From belapur to Vashi. Vashi station. Vashi center one mall. Vashi bridge. Dates. Movies. Drives n lunches. Daily travel to CST. Chocolate brownie. Seems so long ago.
Every where I go I see only memories. How am I to suddenly forget all these memories?
From 13 feb 2006 to 30 sept 2011.
Every thought, every breath.
Now a void.

Until next time...
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The beginning

2011-10-05T21:20:00.001+05:30

Looking at the SBI Belapur building from the bus window.
Where it all started.
And wondering why it had to end like this.
I'd really hoped, prayed, wished for a happy ending.

Until next time...
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Goodbye

2011-10-05T18:37:00.000+05:30

I'm sitting in the bus, heading out to bombay. And as I leave pune today, I feel like I'm leaving behind a part of me.
A very important part.
I hate goodbyes.

Until next time...
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Compassion

2011-10-04T09:48:00.000+05:30

Someone sent this to me. Liked it, so here it is.

"When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now & then & I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of bread jam and extremely burnt biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my Mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember hearing my Mom apologize to Dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burnt biscuits." Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burnt. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your momma put in a long hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides... A burnt biscuit never hurt anyone but harsh words do!" You know, life is full of imperfect things... And imperfect people. I'm not the best at everything, I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. What I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each others faults and choosing to celebrate each other's differences, is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship. Life is too short to wake up with regrets... Love the people who treat you right and have compassion for the ones who don't. "

Until next time...

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Pretend

2011-10-02T18:59:00.000+05:30

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now, wish right now, wish right now...

For if we can, then we can also pretend that all is well. We can pretend that we are not hurting so bad that we can't even breath. We can pretend that every moment awake is not an effort to live. We can pretend that we get sound sleep at night. We can pretend that we didn't burn our hand cooking because our eyes were filled with tears. We can pretend that someone does love us. We can pretend that the phone will ring. We can pretend that someone does care enough to at least call once.
If only we could pretend.

Until next time...

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Stupid Crazy Love

2011-10-01T13:36:00.000+05:30

Unrequited love, whether in the initial stage of a relationship, or after five years of a relationship sucks. It hurts and it kills and it feels like someone has taken your insides and churned them through a food processor, shredding you to bits.
So, whose fault is it? The person who fell in love or the person who didn’t fall in (fell out of) love. I don’t think you can blame either side. Both are right, both are in a way hurting. Nothing that one does is enough for the other; for both are different people. What may mean the world to me may mean nothing to you; what may mean the world to you may mean nothing to me. It is all contextual, comparative. I may think that I have done so much; but you feel that you are getting nothing out of it. You may feel that you have been compelled to do so many things; but I may feel that I am getting nothing out of it.
Very difficult to do, but in such cases the only option is to move on.
Hurt.
Cry.
Blame God & Destiny.
But move on.
I used to think that somewhere one should keep the hope alive. Someday, the person will realize your worth; see you truly for what you are; understand what you mean to them. But then, sometimes there is no place for hope. If anything, it only hurts. For you hope & your hopes get dashed.
You can hope for a better tomorrow, yes. You can hope for a happier time in life, yes. But don’t hope for an unrequited love to change. You will only hurt yourself. Accept the reality and listen to what the other person is saying to you – you are not worth it for me. You are not what I want. You are not it, period.
But don’t worry, there is someone out there for whom you will be worth it, you will be what they want. You will be someone’s it. Someone. Somewhere. Who will love you to bits, for what you are. Accept you unconditionally. See, acknowledge and be grateful for what you do for them. Do things for you, because you want to do it, because you like to do it. For that is love, right?
Stupid Crazy Love.
Until next time…

Turn Right

2011-09-30T00:57:00.003+05:30

I know it’s very clichéd but the only way I can think of starting this post is with SRK dialogue from DDLJ when he tells Farida Jalal that he will not run away with Kajol; for his mother always said to him – “beta, zindagi ke har mod par tumhe do raaste milenge… ek sahi… ek galat. Galat raasta bohat asaan hoga, tumhein apni taraf kheechega. Aur sahi raasta bohat mushkil hoga. Us mein bohat si musibatein, bohat si pareshaniyaa hongi. Agar tum galat raaste pe chaloge, to ho sakta hai ki shuruat mein tumhein bohat kamyiabi mile, bohat khushiyan mile. Magar ant mein tumhaari haar hogi. Aur agar sahi raaste pe chaloge, to bhale shuruat mein kadam kadam pe tumhein thokre milen, musibaton ka saamna karna pade, pareshani ho. Magar ant mein, humesha jeet hogi.”
So true.
When faced with a problem, we most often chose the solution that is the easy one; compromising on the one that is the correct one. But then we wonder, would the outcome have been different if I had chosen the correct one? If one has to be in pain anyways, then why not be in pain and be correct as well? Why be in pain and then get even more pained regretting choosing this path as it is painful? Rather chose the correct path knowing that it is painful. At least it will give you the courage to face the pain that you know lies ahead.
Sometimes, it’s good to be correct. It’s good to know that you had the courage to be correct. It’s good to be hurting because of your own action rather than anyone else’s.
I lost today.
But it’s never too late, until your dead they say.
So today I move from the wrong way to the right way. Today I write this here to remind every time I wonder if it was the right decision choosing this right way – that yes it was; to bring me back into focus every time I waver.
Today, I turn Right.
Today, I move onto the correct path. Today I begin my journey towards the day I will definitely win.

Until next time…

Khamoshi

2011-07-30T09:32:00.000+05:30

Ek khamoshi hazaar batein keh jati hai
Kisi ko gham, kisi ko khushi de jati hai
Yu toh kehne ke liye kitna kuch hai zindagi mein
Par ye khamoshi hi sab kuch keh jaati hai

Kahan rehti hai ye khamoshi
Kisi ki nigaahon mein
Kisi ke dil mein
Kisi ke aasuon mein
Ek bhari mehfil mein

Bina bole sab raaz khol jaati hai
Ek khamoshi hazaar batein keh jati hai

Until next time...

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Time

2011-05-16T17:32:00.001+05:30

Today, after a very long time I just want to write. In these past months, it’s not as if I didn’t want to. There were thoughts in my head, there were things to write, there was everything; but no time. This Saturday, I actually realized that there never will be the time. I have to find time, make time. Because I don’t know when, suddenly one day, there will be no time. At all.
Today when I want to write, I don’t know what to write. There is a tumultuous riot of thoughts inside my head, completely opposite to the calm cloudy day outside. I’m cranky, I'm scared. I’m happy, I'm sad. I'm calm, I'm nervous. In short, I'm a wreck of nerves.
Wreck.
Wreckage.
Shattered glass, dented metal. A realization that this is for real. It is, isn’t it? Sirens. Cops. Towing machines and only one question – “are they alive?”
They are standing beside the car, each in their own world. One is hyperventilating. One is calculating the cost of damages. And one is wondering what will she tell mom. They are alive, thank god. They are alive.
The calm of those 10 seconds, the screeching noise of metal on cement mingled with the tinkle of shattering glass. The 2 seconds of silence and then the question – are you ok.
Are you ok? Am I ok? Are we ever going to be ok?

Until next time….

If or When

2011-03-06T01:48:00.001+05:30

If tomorrow never comes..
I lie awake and I wonder..
What will it be like;
If tomorrow never comes..

But then I realize.. its not "If", its "When".

When tomorrow comes..
I lie awake and I wonder..
What will it be like;
When tomorrow does come..

I know its been a long time, nevertheless..
Until next time.
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Jhoota

2011-01-06T12:16:00.000+05:30

Call me dil..
Call me baby..
Call me jo naam tu main wahi..
Call me dil..
Call me baby..
Call me jo naam tu main wahi.. Call me sach to main sachcha, Call me chahe jhoota hi sahin..

Until next time...

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363

2011-01-03T00:24:00.000+05:30

What a start to the new year.
Day one - foot broke.
Day two - heart broke.

363 days more to go. Shit.

Until next time...

(Sometimes, there is no next time... )
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Que sera, sera

2010-12-28T09:54:00.000+05:30

The year's drawing to a close again.

Inevitably, I look back at the year gone by.
Regrets.
Questions.
What-if's and maybe's.
Joy.
Success.
Trips to bars that were crazy.

And then, unavoidably, I read the numerous forecasts for the year ahead.
Marriage?
Money?
Property and cars?
Break-up?
Sickness?
Even crazier trips to even wackier bars?

I breath deeply, and put aside the nth article I was reading titled "Your Stars in 2011" or some such thing for I realize that there is no point.
Of looking back.
Or ahead.

"Que sera, sera,
Whatever will be, will be;
The future's not ours to see.
Que sera, sera,
What will be, will be."

Until next time...
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One more down

2010-12-15T21:50:00.000+05:30

Be grateful for what you have, not disgruntled for what you don't have. Life always evens out. You have something someone else would give their life to get. Look at that, for that's what matters.
Another year, another lesson.

Happy birthday, girl. 27 ain't that bad.

Until next time...
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The Last Look

2010-11-22T15:55:00.003+05:30

Willy & Pep
3rd Oct 2000 - 22 Nov 2010.
There is so much to say about you two. How you come - tiny 50 paise coin sized super scared little babies. How we all collectively raised you, walked with you, fed you, didn't sleep when you didn't, held you, crawled with you, saw you grow to quarter plate size, toko you to the vet, got bitten by you, got scratched by you, played nosey with you... the list is endless.
Today it all boils down to one word: Goodbye. I dont know if I will ever see you again. So.
Goodbye.
God bless you, and may you live a 1000 years.
I'll remember u, I'll pray for u and I'll miss u.
Always.

Until next time...

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A Beautiful Poem - By Paash - Sent to me by a friend

2010-11-19T11:46:00.002+05:30

Mehnat ki loot sabse khatarnak nahi hoti,
Police ki maar sabse khatarnak nahi hoti,
Gaddari, lobh ki mutthi sabse khatarnak nahi hoti.
Baithe bithaye pakde jana bura to hai,
Sahmi si chhup me jakde jana bura to hai,
Par sabse khatarnak nahi hoti.
Sabse khatarnak hota hai murda shanti se bhar jana,
Na hona tadap ka, sab kuch sahan kar jana,
Ghar se nikalna kaam par, aur kaam se loutkar ghar aana,
Sabse khatarnak hota hai,
Hamare sapno ka mar jana.

-- Paash

Until next time...

Bitter-Sweet

2010-11-19T01:09:00.000+05:30

Kahin to dil mein yaadon ki ek suli gad jaati hai...
Kahin har ek tasveer bohat hi dhundali pad jaati hai..
Koi nayi dunia ke naye rangon mein khush rehta hai..
Koi sab kuch pake bhi ye man hi man kehta hai..

Somewhere hearts meet.
Somewhere hearts break.
All in this world.
Simultaneously.
So much joy, so much pain.
Someone's loss, Someone's gain.
I'm happy.
I'm sad.
I'm amazed at this bitch called life, one moment so bitter and the next so sweet.

Until next time...
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Laughing laughing the roads we'll cut

2010-11-17T16:47:00.000+05:30

Hanste hanste, kat jaye raste,
Zindagi yuhii chalti rahe..
Khushi mile ya gum,
Badlenge na hum,
Duniya chahe badalti rahe..

Until next time...
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Dil tarasta hai ab, zindagi ke liye

2010-10-28T21:31:00.000+05:30

Ek khalish dil ki, kya se kya kar gayi,
khushiyon ki aankh mein baarishen bhar gayi,
log apno se bhi bekhabar ho gaye, khushboen chool ke shok mein kho gaye,
khushboen chool ke shok mein kho gaye…

Pak jugna zara roshni ke liye,
Dil tarasta hai ab zindagi ke liye…

Surk phoolon ke jo narm saye mile, apno ki shakl mein jo paraye mile…
Surk phoolon ke jo narm saye mile, apno ki shakl mein jo paraye mile…
inke peeche zara sochke bhagiye, kachche rangon ki hai titliya dekhiye,
kachche rangon ki hai titliya dekhiye…

Ek pal hi mila tha khushi ke liye
Dil tarasta hai ab zindagi ke liye…

Ek khwaish mein thee sekdon aandhiyan, pal mein bhikre sabhi rishton ke ashiyan.
Ek khwaish mein thee sekdon aandhiyan, pal mein bhikre sabhi rishton ke ashiyan.
pyase lab ka yahi sabko haasil mila, justjoo dariya thee khusk sahil mila…
justjoo dariya thee khusk sahil mila.

Khoke neende kisi ajnabee ke liye,
Dil tarasta hai ab zindagi ke liye…

Until next time…

Apt

2010-10-27T16:23:00.000+05:30

As the weather, so the mood.
Dark, gloomy, cold and wet.

Am in Blore and hating it again, but this time for a different reason.

Until next time

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What a start!

2010-09-17T08:52:00.002+05:30

Dagdu seth ganpati at 7 AM. What a start to the day!
Ganpatti Bappa Morya!!

Until next time...

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Barbaric

2010-09-14T21:33:00.001+05:30

Someone at the table next to mine is eating fish, and rice. And I can see the exact shape of the fish - tail fins and all.
Eeewww.

Until next time...

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

When

2010-09-14T20:23:00.001+05:30

When you have to pretend, when you have to keep up a facade, when you have to force yourself to talk to someone, when that someone used to be a good friend.
When you don't know what's up, when you don't know what will happen, when u can do nothing but sit and wait.
Then, it is Bloody. Fucking. Irritating.

Until next time...

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Boy

2010-08-28T12:33:00.000+05:30

For the first time in my life I wish I was a boy. I could then get into one of these sleazy looking cabs and be on my way to Bombay, instead of waiting endlessly for a bus.
Uff.

Until next time..

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Beautiful

2010-08-26T21:01:00.001+05:30

Here.
Posted on Tuesday, August 24, 2010.
By Bikram Snehi, soon-going-to-be-an-amazing-poet.

Until next time...

Once Upon a Time in Mumbai

2010-08-20T21:53:00.000+05:30

This movie is not for us bombay-lovers. Its for those people who don't- or rather can't- understand why we love this city so much.
The city with a heart so big, with a compassion so strong and with opportunities so many.
It gives u whatever u want - money, power ,fame - and then as easily, as instantly takes it back. Betrayal is as common here as are all the above mentioned and people here betray only for one reason - who will be the king of Mumbai.

Until next time..

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Children of a lesser God versus Children of the Devil

2010-08-20T11:09:00.000+05:30

From the past few days I have been noticing very strongly 2 different types of people in my world.
The sweeper in my office, the cleaning lady, the canteen boy who picks up my plate. Mild, unassuming they go about doing their work hoping to be inconspicous, not making eye contact and actually trying to not get noticed. When I say thank you, when I smile at them they get startled and scamper off hoping they didn't do anything wrong. These are the Children of a lesser God and my heart goes out to them. What did I do to get so much more then them in life? For them I wish abundant happines, prosperity and good luck - God knows they deserve it. For being so dedicated, so nice and so hardworking.

Then there is the second type of people - the autodrivers, the domestic help at home, the milkman. Aggressive, irritating and assholic they behave as if they own the world. They go about doing favors, not working. He is doing me a favor by letting me sit in his auto, she is doing me a favor by sweeping my floor - never mind that both are charging me exorbitant amounts of money for whatever it is that they are doing. These are the Children of the Devil and I wish with my whole heart that nothing good ever happens to them. May they live and die exactly like they are born - lowly guttural creatures. They don't deserve any better.

Until next time...

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Full Circle

2010-08-18T22:59:00.001+05:30

From TCS to Wipro, life seems to have come a full circle.
If only it would now have a sweet logical conclusion.
Sigh.

Until next time...
Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Time

2010-08-09T23:47:00.001+05:30

What I would give to turn back time,if only by a few hours..
I'd meet u again, and this time I wouldn't let the opportunity pass.

A happy time, an evening well spent,
Would replace the unfortunate evening that I so badly repent.
I see now, what it could have been:
A perfect evening just out of my dream.
Instaed I look back at what it was:
A squabble over an irrelevant cause.

The first moment, your uninhibited smile,
How could I not have seen that, how could I be so vile.

I have hurt u, and for that I apologise,
And I pray to God to make me a little more wise.

Thank you for tolerating my stupid tantrum,
And not making a dash - for loving me even when i behave dumb.

Oh, what I would give to turn back time, if only for a few hours,
I'd live an eternity in every moment, and make every moment last.

By the way

2010-07-30T15:04:00.001+05:30

By the way,
On the way,
Humko jo mili hai zindagi…
Gaati hai,
Hasti hai,
Badlii si hai zara!!
Roothe bhi,
Mane bhi,
Har lamha nayi hai zindagi…
Moody hai,
Ziddi hai,
Kya Kare kya pata!!

Rukte hain kahan hum roke se,
Chalte hain hawa ke jhonke se,
Apni to aisi hai zindagii – yeah!
Yahi apni adaa hai – kya Karen!
Koi bura jo mane – kya Karen!
Humse to hai khafa ab sabhi!

Jane do – chodho bhi!

Until next time…

Advertise

2010-07-21T18:22:00.002+05:30

Some MBA Gyaan -- Off an email i received:

Said a tiger to a lion as they drank beside a pool,
"Tell me, why do you roar like a fool?"
"That's not foolish," replied the lion with a twinkle in his eyes.
"They call me king of all the beasts because I advertise."

A rabbit heard them talking and ran home like a streak.
He thought he would try the lion's plan,
but his roar was a squeak.
A fox came to investigate - and had his lunch in the woods.

The moral: When you advertise, be sure you've got the goods!

Until next time...

Catch Up

2010-07-15T18:10:00.002+05:30

At home since Friday, doing nothing much. Been sick - cold, cough, sinus, fever. Eating more medicines than food. Reading about friends on blogs i didn't know existed. Wondering when things changed, when the jigsaw didn't fit together anymore. Thinking about reactions and over reactions. About expectations and disappointments. Reading "Rosie is my Relative" by Gerald Durell. Laughing. Crying. Sniffing. Coughing. Sleeping. Face-Booking. Had an Original @ MOD. Lied about it to Bubbles, Mom & Dad. Riding the bike (when the health permits). Finding new roommates. Enjoying Bombay Rains from inside my room. Smelling the Ocean. Watching TV. Fighting with Kiki. Laughing with Kiki. Kicking Kiki at night, when she doesnt realise it. Using the guest room every third day. Having tea and fries @ Mc D (VT).
Doing pretty much Nothing.
Thats me life for sometime now.
And u?

Until next time...

The Other Side Of The Coin

2010-06-22T21:27:00.001+05:30

While in South India, I would feel left out when two South Indians spoke in their mother tongue. I would think that these people have no basic manners, speaking in a language that I cannot understand, right in front of me, when I am present and a part of the group.
Today, I was on the other side. A colleague and I were speaking in Hindi for quite some time, when I suddenly realized that the third person walking with us was a Tamilian, and did not understand Hindi.
Of course I apologized, and we switched to English immediately, but I also realized that it’s not that people lack basic manners, but it’s that anyone just can’t help talking in their mother tongue.
My typical jumping to conclusions, proved wrong once again.
Until next time…

Bangalore: Butterflies, Bars & Buddies.

2010-06-12T09:52:00.005+05:30

This is for my memories. So that when I’m 80 and all alone, I can remember Blore, and my time there for what it was. Its lengthy, a recap of the exact 3 months, and took me over a week to complete.

I landed there on the 11th of March 2010, unsure, uncertain and unhappy. I was being pulled away from Bombay – my favoritest (yes, that’s a word. In my dictionary.) city in the world – with no idea when I’d be back (for good. I knew when I’d be back to Bombay – it was exactly after 15 days!) I still remember my drive from the airport to EC. I drank in the sights of the city, comparing every tiny detail to Bombay, and at the same time trying to familiarize myself with the place. When I saw the “Mojdi & Joothi” shop on Brigade Road Junction, I remember feeling slightly better: they had road-side shoes; it wasn’t as backward, remote and isolated a place as I’d thought it to be – I could shop for cheap shoes when I got really depressed (yes, I am a strong believer in the concept of Retail Therapy, and my friends in Bangalore will vouch for that!)

Friends in Bangalore.

Never thought I’d say those 3 words, together, in a sentence like that. When I came here, I was all prepared to be one of those hoity-toity-I’m-from-bombay-cold-bitch, prepared even to run up a huge phone bill talking to all my friends scattered all over the world. For me, a friend is someone who I can crib to endlessly (Cribbing, for me is a way of life now. Bad, I know. Should stop, I know. Am working on it? No! : P), one who I can talk to, endlessly, one who I can listen to, endlessly, one who I can fight with, one who I can call an asshole, and still not offend, one who I can sit in comfortable silence with (I cant do that with most of the people I know. I need to have a very, very strong comfort level with that person), one who I can eat with (sloppily), one who can call me fat- and not offend me, one who actually counts my calories for me – for everything I eat, and then shamelessly tells me, every time that I shouldn’t be eating that, one who goes ahead and shares their dessert with me anyways, one who calls me an emotional fool – exactly what I am – on my face, one who I can shop with, literally, till we drop, one who I can giggle with on every damn thing (it seems), and one who actually agrees that Sagittarians are the best!

I found all this, and much more.

My first seven days here were spent in the Wipro Technologies Guest House, a well maintained, almost three-starish hotel type accommodation, within the EC Campus. For the fear of living with some unknown (May I, at the expense of sounding racist, add South Indian?) entity, I chose my roommate as a Batch mate from NMIMS, Nimmy, and arm-twisted the receptionist, Chandru to allot us a room together. I was verbosely appalled at the fact that such a simple request was met with so much resistance. She was a South-Indian, I knew that, but her hair didn’t smell of (jasmine?) oil all the time, and that was good enough for me. However, the first thing she said to me was, “Oh, I have to share a room with you. I wanted one to myself actually. Anyways. ” Appalled again, I was at the snooty Mallu who spoke immaculate English without any trace of an accent, had the most beautiful curly hair and a red hand bag that I fell in live with at first sight! However, I went on to have very strong relations with the both these appalling people during my time here. The first weekend was spent finding potential room-mates (considering her opening remark to me, I had figured that my current one didn’t seem to like me very much) and of course livable accommodation. After a lot of contemplation, uncertainty and irritation I still hadn’t found either. But as with life, suddenly things fell into place, and I moved into SRK Samrudhii Suites with Nimmy (turns out, she did like me, after all!) as a roommate. Rather house mate, for it was a 1 bedroom, hall-kitchenette studio with a balcony overlooking, well, nothing much. But it had beds, a T.V with cable, a couch, a fridge, an AC, a swimming pool, a gym and was close to office. The fact that it was smack in the middle of no-where didn’t bother us too much after looking at all these things. And did I mention, it also had free, unlimited, internet, wi-fi enabled? Thus started my affair with Samrudhii that lasted for 2 month and 1 week and 1 day. And this period I feel I lived two different lives.

The first was when it was me Shveta, Geetanjali, and of course Nimmy. The four of us were like the power-puff girls, snooty, giggly, inseparable and totally unaware of the others around us. The numerous shopping expeditions, with Shveta, the late night chats about the right way of dieting with Nimmy , the boy-bashing sessions with Geetanjali (rather, Geethanjali!!) and one month passed in a blur that was fun all the time. I got to know more people during this period, but none was as close to me as these girls. There was Sanjeev the chef, Kabir, the kid, Punit the even bigger-kid, Raka (Rahul Kumar Aggarwal) the tourist, Amol - party hila denge!!, Adi (sigh), Divya the awesome dancer, Muthu, Archana, Arpita, Aabha… and the list is endless. We went partying to Fuga – fun time as it was Bombay Night! I danced late into the night, much to my heart’s content, and my parent’s distress. Got high on a single breezer( yes, I did!) and haven’t heard the end of it till date. We went for the Bombay versus Bangalore IPL Semi-final match to Extreme Sports Bar, and hooted an entire bar full of bangaloreans down, and finally, we went to Hint, the disco that on Fridays had a free entry for girls, and a 1000 buck eat-drink-all-you-want for guys. Let’s just sum that night up by saying that I had to get two very drunk guys home, I was soaking wet in water and vodka (some drunken asshole threw it on me) and there wasn’t Nimmy to get back home to.

These girls had moved out by now, all scattered, and I was left all alone. It was by sheer luck, absolute shamelessness, loads of chewing Kabir’s brains out and 4 nights of living “alone” and fighting the ghosts that I found Mansi: my next roommate. The last night that we four girls were together, we wanted to make it a night to remember, and so Nimmy and I went and sat by the pool, dipping our feet in the cold water, and reminiscing about the time gone by. Kabir joined us, and the three of us sat there for the longest time, chatting about random nonsense and giggling and just talking crap. These two tried, very unsuccessfully, to push me into the pool and I was so proud about the fact that I resisted them all the time! Whether it was by physical strength, or because of all the screaming and pleading and puppy-face making that I did every time they tried, I’ll never know, but I like to think it was the sheer physical strength. We were joined by Shveta, Sanjeev, Geetanjali, Amol and Abhinav soon after and we sat there like 8 year olds who dared only to dip their feet in a pool, and not jump in and swim. Everyone was daring the other one, promising that if one person jumped in, all would follow suit. Suddenly I realized that
A. I was the only one talking &
B. there was no one to my left or right.
A little too late I realized that all of them had crowded up behind me, and before I could do anything, I was unceremoniously pushed into the water.
Freezing cold water.
At 11-fucking-o’clock in the night.
It was so cold I could not breathe for two minutes and warmed up only after I swam two laps. I was, needless to say furious, until Abhinav jumped in, and suddenly everyone was in swimming, tryint to swim, shouting, splashing water and doing what not! The great ones like me who knew swimming gave swimming lessons to the lesser mortals who didn’t. In freezing cold water. At 11-fucking-thirty in the night. And boy, was it a fun night! Loads of splashing water at each other’s face (kabir, you loser, you lost miserably: P) and swimming competitions later I headed to my room, soaking wet but very, very content.
I guess Nimmy finally got her (pseudo) revenge for the April Fools Gag that i played on her by making her run un-necessarily for a flight that was 2 hours late!

The second life was a mix of living alone, testing my strength, Kabir's & Punit's patience and then living with Mansi and Archana. In the four days that I was alone, it came to a point, where if I mentioned that there were ghosts in the room, Sanjeev would say, “okay give the phone to the ghost, I’ll scare it away from my room only!” Then after 4 long days (and even longer nights) came Mansi, my second roommate. The first day she moved in was the day we had planned to go to Hint. She came along, and god, was she scandalized! The whole bar and their uncle was swooning over her, and poor girl didn’t know what to do. I had to physically fight off Sankalp and a 100 others and like literally protect her. To their defense, the whole bar and their uncle were highly drunk. Anyways.

By now at Wipro, we had moved into a smaller training batch, and I was making a new friend: our 60 year old trainer. We called him Daddu fondly, and he is a sweet eccentric 60 year old man, like a child who wants to have fun, but is scared of the system. Weekdays consisted of training (read: sleeping in the training room, surfing the net, finding bus routes to new local markets, blogging, giving tests randomly without studying and a little bit of trying to understand what was being taught), followed by power yoga, walking all the way to SRK with Kabir, dinner at the dhabha and talking to Mansi and watching Indian Idol on TV. I think the part that I minded most about living alone was that I had only myself for company, and that meant that I had to talk to myself, and I am not a listener, I’m a talker. So in short that meant that I didn’t have anyone to listen to my non-stop blabber. Well, not anyone. Kabir was there and so was Punit but they weren’t there all the time as they weren’t my roommates, and I didn’t want to be in their room all the time for the fear of over staying my welcome. With Mansi it was a classic case of two Saggis getting along instantly. In fact, sometimes we both had so much to talk about that we would actually be competing with each other so as to who will talk first!

The weekends during this period, at least the ones when I was in Bangalore, were spent almost always, and completely, with Nimmy, shopping, hanging out at Blossoms, Café Matteo, going to the Clarins Spa, lunching at Ebony and doing all other girly things. Nimmy, as I have already mentioned, is this super-uber-cool Mallu who perennially has a don’t-mess-with-me, rather don’t-even-talk-to-me-you-lowly-creature look. We did have a shaky start, but went on to build a real strong friendship discussing boyfriends and sex and weddings and calories and appetite and food and weight loss and god-knows-what. Once you get past her snooty attitude, she is this loveable girl who giggles at every damn thing, is a world-class negotiator and has the best curls in the whole wide world! Not to mention she gives good, practical, grounding advice. My time with her was fun, refreshing and uplifting. I don’t think she ever realized how much the weekends meant to me. I remember when she, Roshin (her sister) and I went shopping for salwaar kammez and sarees and I was stuck on i-want-something-that-is-south-indian so bad that the two of them had pretty much branded me as a racist by the end of that day. And that other time (my last time out shopping with her, infact my last time shopping in B’lore) when she and I went to Mysore Silk Palace (where I blew up 15k in 3 hours) she actually told her dad over the phone, “Dad, I’m shopping for suits and sarees with Lehar… no she’s not getting married… she’s just having an I’m-leaving-south-india-forver-panic-attack. I’d better go and stop her now, she’s buying the entire shop, it seems!” And there was this one weekend I couldn’t meet her at all, even though I was in B’lore, but I know she completely understands why! ;)

Towards the fag end of my and Mansi’s time at SRK ,Archana (Archie) joined us. Initially, she was wary of me (can you imagine, poor harmless me?) but as she understood my loveable, affable, adorable (ok I shall stop now) self, we bonded like petrol and fire. The day I was leaving, after I had said my good-bye to her, the penny dropped on why she was so wary of me! During training, very initially, we had a role play and were asked to play the personality type that we were. I was naturally a
Driver, someone who gets things done, and during the role play which consisted of me and her, I may have taken it too far. But by the end of it we were awesome buddies having our own code languge (hiss...) . In fact she even gifted me this awesome Pashmina Shawl as a good-bye gift for i was always feeling cold!

My last night there (the night of 11th June 2010) was exactly what I wanted it to be – wild, fun and crazy! Well, at least by my standards. My flight to Pune was at 6AM on the morning of 12th June which meant that I’d had to leave from EC (Electronic City) by 3 AM. We planned a cookout at Punit, Kabir and Natoo’s place, and I made aloo jeera, salad, masala papad & dessert (Jelly, milk maid, jujubes & bananas – yumm!)and Mansi made rice, and Punit made kadhii and dal. Suhas, Mansi and Nimmy were the only ones who ate as soon as the food was prepared. We finished making dinner by 11 o’clock but ate only around 2 as these guys started drinking (Green Apple Vodka with sprite) and then Kabir insisted that I have 1, chotu, really chotu, drink, and well, against all practical reasoning I agreed! Soon, I was just giggling non-stop and having the time of my life! We went to drop Mansi to her Villa and in the car Aabha was going on about some non sense on the phone and we were giggling. I don’t think I have giggled so much in my entire life, as much I did that night.
Some losers who couldn't hold their alchohol dozed off around 1 ish beacuse of which i couldn't say bye properly, but nevertheless, the night was definitely one of those once-in-a-lifetime-thigis for me.

Nimmy, thanks for coming to drop me all the way to the airport; I wouldn’t have liked to be alone in my last few minutes… And will always remember the Mind Over Matter Lesson that you gave me at 4 AM on that freezing morning! Will miss you, babe. (I was so damn late for my flight, and I had to run through the entire process, but girl, spending that one more hour with you - it was worth it!)

Kabir, thanks for listening to all my cribbing, for being my soundboard for most of the time. And yeah, thanks for finally, finally, getting me drunk.

Life's too long for good-bye's Archie... we shall meet agin and take our saggis-are-the-best conversation to another level altogether!

Today, on the 12th of june, exactly 3 months (1 quarter) later, I sit at Bombay Airport (the Pune flight got re-routed to Bombay as it couldn’t land there due to bad weather; can you believe my luck!) waiting for clearance etc leave, and I thank my stars, for giving me this opportunity to get out of Bombay, see Bangalore, hate it, fall in love with it and last but not the least, meet these awesome people, and make them a part of my life.

I had a picture of you in my mind...
never knew it could be so wrong...
why did it take me so long just to find,
the friend that I had all along...

Until next time…

Hi

2010-05-28T21:27:00.001+05:30

Once in a while during your day to day life, you are suddenly reminded of a very good friend, one who you cannot reach at that moment, but are missing terribly anyways.
This post is for my that friend.
The one who I could call randomly, even after 4 months, and get on like as if I spoke to him yesterday.
The one who I could ignore randomly and not call back for months at a time and then finally get a call and get yelled at and then feel bad.
The one who when ignored me for even four week’s I would scream and screech and make his life miserable.
The one who went one, two tree…!
The one who I could call when I was crying, because I couldn’t (or rather didn’t want to) call anyone else but I had to speak to someone comforting to make my tears stop.
The one who would call me honey, and I would be like, I’m not your honey!
The one who always made me laugh, either at his jokes or at him or at his silly laugh.
The one who made me cry. Once.( in 8 years of being my friend) And paid hell for it.
The one who I haven’t spoken to in really long, and am missing terribly today.
This one’s for you, Nikhil.
Hi.
Wherever you are.

Until next time…

Bombay

2010-05-28T18:11:00.000+05:30

A clear sky,
At dusk the first star.
A wish made,
For a time that seems very far.
A different city,
My home, my heart.
Go slow time,
With it I don’t want to part.
The noise, the smell,
My school, my bike.
Even though there are a thousand things wrong,
This place always seems so right.

Until next time...

The Gujrati Family

2010-05-24T15:49:00.009+05:30

Disclaimer: The views presented below are solely of the author and are in no way meant to hurt anyone intentionally. Read at your own will, and take nothing to heart. The author would also like to mention that she has a lot of close friends who are Gujratis and are awesome people, irrespective of the fact that they are Gujratis.

The Gujrati Family is a pack of the can-never-be-extinct genus Gujratis, also called as Gujjus. These creatures are members of HomoSapiens, the family of Homos (of the happy and gay variety) and Sapiens (close relatives of modern-day people.) They often (almost always) make a loud continuous chattering noise and, in some higher-strata species are equipped with the latest cellphone, a fake designer bag, an almost-as-good-as-the-original duplicate Rado/ Omega/Tissot each. They have been in existence from around 4.8 million to 4,500 years ago, ever since Speech as a form of communication was discovered. The word Gujrati comes from the region Gujrat, India, where this species is found in even larger numbers. They are usually always found in large numbers everywhere anyways. The Gujrati Family moves in packs of 10 Gujjus or more, and in multiples of 10 thereafter. If the pack size is less than 10, they are looked down upon by the other packs, and are commonly referred to as just Gujratis. They display clannish behavior by taking a keen interest even in the daily affairs of family that is up to three levels away in the family tree. The Gujrati Family has a very distinct structure and every member’s role in the pack is predefined. The pack is headed by the eldest living male, and each pack extends to at least four generations at a time. The males are the bread-winners of the pack, and (almost) all earn their living and lifestyle with the help of two major bourses namely, N.S.E and B.S.E. The females are the house makers and keepers, child bearers and child raisers. All women in The Gujrati Family in their spare time collect together to give / get update on all family members at least three levels away in the family tree and / or discuss jewellery. This is done on a regular (read: at least three times a day) basis.

It is very easy to identify The Gujrati Family mainly due to the loud constant chattering that goes on within the pack. Once The Gujrati Family has entered a restaurant, an aircraft, or even a train it is very difficult to hear anyone or anything else (yes, even the plane's engine noise is drowned out.) This constant chattering comes from their urge to communicate on a real time basis, and since they are very soft at heart, each member wants every other member of the pack on anything that it has just discoverd. They don;t like to be left out of any peice of information is shared between any two random people, however uselsess it may be to them. Like, if one member finds out there is Frooti available at the airport cafeteria, the entire pack will know either by being within hearing distance of the member who made the discovery, or by asking the most preferred question of the clan - WHAT. The Gujrati Family are highly emotional in nature and feel for even television characters and can take to crying at the drop of a hat (especially the females).

The next time you come across this species be sure to observe them, as it can be highly entertaining!

Until next time...

How to Kill 3 Hours (Alone )at Bangalore Airport

2010-05-21T22:31:00.004+05:30

1. Walk really slowly with your luggage to the check-in counter. Like in Slow-Mo.
2. While checking in, chat with the cute guy at the counter, flirt a bit, have some fun. ( fun is a subjective word, and the people in line behind you do not think of this as fun. irritating, boring, funless people, i tell you.)
3. Go through security check, and insist that even though all your luggage is cleared, each piece be opened, and each item micro-analysed.
4. Call up people you haven't spoken to in centuries (ok fine, decades will also do) and chat like you were their best friend and they were the last person on the earth to chat with.
5. Find a nice quiet corner with a plug-point nearby, plug in your laptop, and study SAP FI/CO for upcoming test on monday. (to get ALL of the above is an achievement and takes atleast an hour to accomplish!)
6. End up listening to, word by word, the conversation that the chick sitting behind you is having with her boyfriend. (named saurabh. the boyfriend, not the chick. the chick had an awwwful day becase she had nine bags - can u imagine saurabh, i had NINE bags!! and... well, it was a long conversation)
7. Read your sisters blog, and get a slap (virtual) on your face.
8.Sit like a zombie, in shock at what you just read.

Until next time...

GoodBye, My Love

2010-05-21T14:49:00.002+05:30

I hereby give you up, for a greater cause.
sigh...

Until next time...

Limits

2010-05-20T12:17:00.003+05:30

Why is it that people don't know where there limits end? Over the last 2 months I have been around people who really don't know when is a good time to stop. Every person has a tolerance limit, and while joking this should be kept in mind. And just because I am quiet, I take your jokes sportingly, I don't retaliate, doesn't mean i can't. I just choose not to, for it is beneath my dignity to fall to your levels. Yes, as friends we are allowed to make jokes at others expenses, but to a certain limit. Overly personal comments regarding families, or repeating the same shitty joke again and again and again does tend to get boring, if not irritating. It only reflects what your mentality is, and sick would be putting it mildly.
So, losers, grow up and get a life.
Oh, and a better sense of humour, while you are at it.

Until next time...

I Am...

2010-05-19T14:23:00.001+05:30

Until next time...

Dumass

2010-05-18T12:01:00.004+05:30

He's my Dumass.
And i love him!

Until next time...

Random Questions That I have No Answers For.

2010-05-18T10:18:00.003+05:30

1. When will I get out of Bangalore.
2. Where in the world’s fuck is Subodh Mallya.
3. Where in the world s fuck is Nikhil Fernandes.
4. Will I be able to attend Hardik’s sister’s wedding.
5. When will I attend my own wedding.
6. Will I even have a wedding.
7. When will I be rich enough to buy a Fiat 500.
8. When will kiki stop pestering me with really absurd (so absurd, they can even classify as bizarre) ideas.
9. How will I get home from the airport at 1 in the night.
10. Is mango milk shake fattening or healthy.
11. Is mango milk shake, had for lunch with a plain veg sandwich, healthy.
12. Is mango milk shake ever healthy.
13. Why does it rain everyday in Bangalore.
14. Why am I sleepy in class – strike that, I know the answer to that.
15. How do u strike out words in Blogger, like u can in Word.
16. Why can I not sleep in class.
17. When will I stop sitting in classes, and start working.
18. Why can i not comment on Psy's Blog.
19. Why do these ppl in my class have so many doubts.
20. Why cant I think of any more questions!

Until next time…

To be hanged till Death.

2010-05-07T13:04:00.001+05:30

Is it enough?
No.
But it is a closure.
Of sorts.

Until next time...

Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi...

2010-05-06T16:30:00.002+05:30

Hazaaron khwahishen aisi,
Ki har khwahish pe dam nikle.
Har ek pal dar dar ke jiye,
Ki kahin kisi ki nazar na lage.

Chuuna hai aasmaan,
Panaa hai har ek makaam.
Kya poori hogi har ek khwahish,
Milengi khushiyan tamaam?

Kehta hai dil, hazaaron khwahishen hai,
Par chahne se kya hota hai.
Kaun jane vhidhi ka vidhaan,
Likha hai jo, wohi milta hai.

Hazaaron khwahishen aisi,
Ki har khwahish pe dam nikle.
Jo bhi ho, dil yahi mane
Ki har khwahish poori hogi.

Until next time...

How.

2010-04-14T15:25:00.001+05:30

People think I crib too much, worry too much, complain too much.

How do I explain to them that I used to be a carefree, cheerful, not-a-worry-in-the-world girl who saw the world with rose-tinted glasses.

How do I make them understand that when I was like that, I had to become like this when the world was pulled out from under my feet; when the rose-tinted glasses shattered into a million pieces.

How do I explain to them why I am what I am, how I became what I am.

How do I make them realize that this is not what I wanted to be, ever.

How do I make see that this is a defense mechanism that I have built over the years to prevent getting any more unpleasant surprises.

How do I convince them that if you anticipate the worst and then getting something that’s not so bad, you are actually protecting yourself from the hurt of getting the worst.

How do I convey that if you have been hurt so badly, that you almost shattered, and you are still putting the pieces together, then one more tiny issue also feels like all that you put together is all going to fall apart all over again.

I don’t.

I can’t.

They won’t understand.

They can’t.

Until next time…

Momentous

2010-04-12T17:14:00.000+05:30

Momentous events have taken place since the last time I blogged. I have got another job, I have moved out of home, I have enjoyed living out of home, I have cried bcause I’m living out of home.

Today, now, I miss home.

Badly.

Until next time…

Why Women Are Ninjas

2010-02-09T11:13:00.001+05:30

A debate has been raging on for quite some time between me and a colleague, on whether Women can be Ninjas or no. His-royal-sexist-highness insists it’s a no.
Okay. Women can’t be Ninjas, you say. Fine. I agree. You know why? Because, Women ARE born Ninjas.
All of us.
Well, atleast the Indian ones.
Men have to undertake training to become a Ninja, but we women, we are born with the skills.
A Ninja is defined as “a covert agent or mercenary specializing in unorthodox arts of war. The functions of the ninja include espionage, sabotage, infiltration, and assassination, as well as open combat in certain situations.”
Now apply this definition to a woman, your average everyday woman.
Start from when she blossoms into a young teenage girl, covertly trying to win over her crush-of-the-season by unorthodox war methods like making sure he sees her competition with another rival boy, or wearing his favorite color (which she found out after a lot of snooping, and that too discretely)etc. As a wife, she infiltrates her husband’s home, and secretly plots various schemes of sabotage against her enemies (oh, I mean in-laws) so that she is accepted as the perfect bahu. As a mother she is a pro at espionage to make sure that when her teenage son says he is going to his friends house to study overnight, that’s exactly where he goes. She takes on the role of an assassin when her house is attacked by various dangerous creatures like cockroaches and rats and the likes. And open combat? Dude. Let anyone say anything ill about her errant husband or reprobate son, or abusive father or shrewd mother-in-law. She’ll take to arms and vehemently defend that person as if he were an Angel! Another form of open combat is when she sets her mind on something, anything, and things do not proceed that way. (Any husband will vouch for this one!) Hasn’t she covered all traits of a Ninja, in a lifetime, and that too without any training?
Men, on the other hand, just eat, sleep, fart, burp and talk/think about sex. Not very ninja-ish if you ask me.
Until next time…

Hope and a Second Chance

2010-01-15T15:58:00.001+05:30

Hope.

And a second chance.

That's all we need to give ourselves.

For if we have those two things, we pretty much have the world. Hope gives you dreams, aspirations, and a sense that you may just be able to achieve them. And a second chance, well, it gives you a second chance at that dream if you make a mistake somewhere along the way.

Imagine this: a life without hope and a second chance. A life without the option of making a mistakes – many mistakes – and saying sorry, learning from your mistakes and moving on. Even The God's make mistakes. Prime example- Shiva granting Bhasmasur his boon and then running to save his own life. He never gave up on himself (Shiv-jee, not Bhasmasur. Bhasmasur died)as a failed God. Then who are we, mere mortals, to give up on ourselves? To deny us that second chance?

It needn't be pointed out here that a mistake is an action committed, unmindful of its consequences. A deliberate action, which causes a certain expected reaction can't be classified as a mistake. A bike accident on a slippery road is a mistake; a drunk driver is not.

So we were awful once upon a time. We were mean to someone. We did something that we now realize we shouldn't have.

It's okay.

Don't murder yourself for it. (Literally; and figuratively!)

The realization that it was a mistake, that it is never to be done again, that it hurt someone and is hence bad, the repentance for that mistake are all punishments enough. The human mind is a fickle one. Specially one that has a guilty conscience. It eats away at the happiness slowly, leaving behind an empty frame of flesh and bones. Don't let that happen to you. The world is harsh enough on us, we need not help it by being harsh upon ourselves too.

I'm not saying that we should be arrogant and do whatever we feel like, and then say – oops, sorry! What I'm saying is that when you realize that you have committed a mistake, forgive yourself. For if you don't forgive yourself, how will the world? Understand and face the consequence of the mistake, for every mistake has a consequence. Learn from it, vow never to do it again, but also give yourself a second chance. Hope. Dare. Dream. Again. A new start, a fresh beginning. It's never too late until your dead. And you are not. So live. Again. Breathe. Deeply. Forgive yourself, and move on.

The more excess baggage we carry, the more burdensome life becomes for us. Life already has a 100 burdens thrown on us, don't add to that. Liberate yourself of all that you possibly can, and grab that chance, that second chance, at happiness.

As I said to AJ, As with Mutual Funds, so with life: Past performance is no guarantee for future performance…

Until next time…

Aal Izz Well… All Over Again.

2010-01-01T18:35:00.001+05:30

The first time I read this, I was in school and it was put up on the notice board. I still remember getting goose bumps after reading it that day. Thereafter I have read it on and off, but every time I read it, it hits me. It makes me want to ruffle up my feathers, draw my chest out, and sound the war cry.

Bring it on.

I'm not going to quit.

I'm putting it up here for a friend who is going through a tough time, one who loves poetry.

Don't Quit.

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When funds are low, and debts are high,
And you want to smile, but have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As everyone of us sometimes learns,
And many a failure turns about,
When he might have won had he stuck it out;
Don't give up though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It may be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit,
It's when thins seems worse, that you must not quit.

I read it every day now, and it helps me.

If nothing, it helps me feel better.

Hope it does something for you too.

Until next time…

Once Again

2009-12-26T23:26:00.001+05:30

All I need is a hug.

A big, warm, long, bear hug.

One that says, don't worry: all is well.

One that gives me a sense of security in this uncertain world.

One, that makes me feel. If only for those 2 minutes, that there is no problem that can't be solved.

Give me some sunshine…
Give me some rain…
Give me another chance,
I want to grow up once again…

That apart, 3 Idiots: a must watch.

Not only for all engineering students, but for all human beings.

Until next time…

2 States

2009-12-21T17:23:00.001+05:30

After two disasters called "One Night @ a Call Centre" and "3 Mistakes of My Life", I had pretty much given up on Chetan Bhagat and his writing. The standards he set with 5 Point Someone were not being met and when "2 States" hit the shelves, I didn't even bother to pick up and see what it was about.

The only reason I read it was because someone gifted it to me on my birthday.

And I was quite pleasantly surprised to realize that Chetan Bhagat and his real-life-like stories and characters are back along with his unique writing style. I actually laughed out loud at some bits in the book! His writing has the quality that makes the reader instantly identify with the character (which kinda disappeared in the last 2 books) which is important to make a book a good book.

And of course, the hidden implied meaning behind the gift.

Until next time…

Happy Birthday

2009-12-15T10:51:00.002+05:30

So much to say, but the words don't flow;
A whole journey to complete, but nowhere to go;
Look at this irony called life, Little joys in exchange for so much strife;
Shattered dreams like broken glass, no flowers; just an empty vase;
When will the clouds part, when will the sun shine;
When will that elusive happiness be mine.

Happy Birthday to me.

Until next time…

I Want…

2009-11-30T15:31:00.003+05:30

Until next time…

Wish List

2009-11-24T17:14:00.001+05:30

My birthday is coming up, yes, again, and for all those who want to give me something, for once I'll make your life simple. You need not rack your brains like every other year to think of what to give me.

Here's my wish list.

5 new, good SRK releases this year
An engagement ring (this is NOT for all readers)
A marriage proposal (ditto)
Annihilation of all cheaters in the world, specially like the ones who con gullible young women like me
My own train on the Western Railway that doesn't leave till I board it
Books that have Titles like "How to lose 20 kgs in 2 months, & Stay That Way" or "How to get your dream job & retain it" or even better, "how to travel everyday to andheri from South bombay in 1 piece & reach office on time"
The brand new pair of spectacles that I lost within 3 days of getting them (pink; pretty; bold)
More breakfasts at Leopold's with same / similar company
A portfolio that's in the Green
Age Reversal Medicines for my parents

Well, doesn't that make life simple for you? Just take your pick and make me happy!

Until next time…

On Demand

2009-11-24T15:50:00.001+05:30

Damn.

I can't write on demand.

Been wanting to write since when, but nothing happens inside of me that I can translate into words.

I hate this dependence.

How the hell will I ever write a complete book!

Until next time…

Friday

2009-11-13T10:29:00.001+05:30

The Thirteenth.

Supposed to be special and all that.

Apparently, only supposed to be; coz it's not actually.

Until next time…

The End of Dawn

2009-11-11T20:09:00.001+05:30

Sucks.

Until next time…

Shit Happens

2009-11-06T16:55:00.002+05:30

So I'm having a really bad day. I'm all tired and exhausted after work, and am ready to collapse after I trudge along for 25 minutes to the station with two, mind you – two, very heavy bags. I reach platform 5 for my regular 7.04 Churchgate Fast. I wait for about 2 minutes and when it's 7.03 and the lady sitting on the roof decides that now is a good time to announce that "platform krmank paanch pe aani waali local churchgate ke liye tej local hai. Ye local aaj platform paanch ke badle platform teen pe ayegi. Yatriyon ko hone wali asuvidha ke liye khed hai."

Right.

So I start running again, with two, mind you- two, very heavy bags to get to platform three, along with half of the city's population jostling to get there before me. A sidestep here – if you've ever travelled by the local trains of Bombay you would have noticed that the regular travelers stand at pre-decided places, everyday, and jump onto the train as it pulls in and before it completely halts. That's the reason they were jostling to get there as the train in question was already pulling into the platform. Anyways. Back to my story. I didn't bother jostling. Well, I couldn't. I just ran as if my backside was on fire and got to the platform just as the train halted.

One tiny detail that the lady sitting on the roof forgot to mention was that the Ladies First Class does not come at the same place on Platform Three as it does on Platform Five. I realized this belatedly as the train halted. I had two options: I could either get into the Non-Ladies First Class (I don't know what else to call it – General First Class? Gent's Firs Class? Whatever) or I could trudge back to Platform Five and wait 10 minutes for another train and get into the Ladies First Class.

No points for guessing what I did – any pea-brain could make that decision.

So I got into the General/Non-Ladies/Gent's/Whatever First Class and was lucky enough to get a seat (non-window, which I would have got for sure in the Ladies First Class and which was the main reason I wanted to travel in that compartment. I mean it's not as if men bite or something – Well, not all). Exhausted I wished that the fast train which thought it was a slow train but was actually moving at the speed of a bullock-cart would soon get the epiphany that it was actually a fast train and move at speeds suitable to that of a fast train. Somehow the train's wavelength and my wavelength didn't really match, and it crawled across Bombay.

And then I saw a friend.

An old, very good, long lost, I'm too busy with my work to meet you friend.

Catching up with friends is always refreshing, and what made it even more refreshing for me was that one, I wanted to catch up with this particular person since a very long time, and two, the updates that he gave me about his life.

He made me forget my horrible day, made me smile for a long time after we parted, and even carried one of my heavy bags! (Like a true friend, I must say)

Shit happens. And sometimes good shit happens. And well, as rightly said, it ought to be good if it's after 25 years of constipation!

So touch wood. And may the shit keep happening. : )

Until next time…

The moment when Dawn breaks out…

2009-11-01T21:39:00.001+05:30

Have you ever seen the sun at the exact moment that dawn breaks out?

I have.

It is an inexplicably happy feeling that overcomes you.

A dark night, and eager anticipation, and then, there it comes: the moment when the sun just, just breaks into the sky.

The end of the night.

The beginning of the day.

That moment symbolizes hope.

It is the moment that makes you realize that today is another day.

Another day with endless opportunities and possibilities.

That moment is life.

That moment is worth living for.

Until next time…

Will

2009-10-31T13:36:00.001+05:30

There is no will.

To do anything.

No will to talk.

No will to smile.

No will to blink.

No will to even to get up and eat something.

I blink and breathe because it's an automated process, I have to do nothing, it happens on its own.

I just sit and stare in space.

Blink.

Breathe.

And wonder.

What the hell am I doing in office on a Saturday!

Until next time…

Clipped

2009-10-08T15:22:00.001+05:30

The wings have been clipped, the freedom has been curbed.

The bird has been caged, not a sound anyone heard.

All that remains as evidence of something that-once-was,

Is a free-falling feather, slowly flittering across.

It falls on the ground, gets soaked in the wet mud.

The epitome of the biggest breakage, and not even a thud.

A freedom lost, a spirit broken, a heart that's down in despair.

The world goes on, and so does life, for no one seems to care.

Until next time…

Happy Birthday

2009-10-05T14:35:00.003+05:30

May you get all that your heart desires.

And then, some more.

: )

Until next time…

P.S. I Love You

2009-10-03T20:32:00.001+05:30

So I finally saw it.

I remember seeing the book at a bookstore years ago.

I remember wanting to read it, but never picking it up ever and actually reading it.

I remember seeing the promos of the movie when it released a few years later.

I remember wanting to watch it, but never buying tickets and actually watching it.

Because I have a death-phobia thingi.

What happens when someone dies? When that someone was your entire life. How do you move on? As Holly said, how do you breathe?

What do you when u lose the only thing that mattered in your life? The one that changed life as you knew it. The one who was irreplaceable.

The entire idea of someone dying on me freaks me out.

How, I mean how can life just go on?

News flash: it does.

Whether you like it or not, whether you want it to or not.

Someone told me that death is actually the destination that we're to get to after the journey called life. It is not the end, it is a beginning. Of another journey.

That's all fine when you're the person who died. But what if you're the one who's someone died. The one who got left behind? The one who still looks out for someone when she smells a certain food? The one those whose eyes moisten when she hears a certain song? The one who just can't breathe without a certain someone? The one who is left behind.

Alone.

There are a lot of people who lose someone in the blink of an eye. There are a lot of people who lost someone while you were reading this. Someone somewhere loses someone every second. There are a lot of people who are alone.

This is for all of them.

"The thing to remember is: If we're all alone, then we're together in that too." - Patricia in P.S. I Love You.

Until next time…

Dated

2009-09-09T14:39:00.001+05:30

Just wanted to stamp today's peculiar-never-to-be-repeated-in-a-century date somewhere.

Thought of waiting till 09.09.09 P.M. but it just wasn't worth the wait.

Anyways September is here.

Black Month.

Lets see what it brings this year.

Until next time…

Abyss

2009-08-27T13:46:00.001+05:30

You walk along the path of life and it feels like it's an abyss.

Deep.

Dark.

Unending.

And you never know what will come up next, what will happen next or what the outcome will be.

You just walk along, trot along or run along depending on how much you can manage. All you have to guide you in this abyss is your faith. Not because faith makes you strong and all that. But because it's all you've got: you have no other option.

It's like holding a rope - one you can't see, but feel - and walking in a dark, deep, unending cave. You walk / trot/ run with its help. There comes a rock, suddenly, and you slip. You arms flail, trying to use the rope to help you maintain your balance, help you to not fall. But you fall anyways, and end up letting go of the rope. You get up, dust your clothes and curse the rope: what frigging good was it anyways. You walk on for some time without the rope disgruntled with the entire idea of its being, but sooner or later, sometime eventually you flap your arms about in the dark to look for it. You search frantically till you can finally feel it again and then you resume your walk, holding onto it tightly.

For something is better than nothing, right?

Until next time…

They

2009-08-19T16:10:00.001+05:30

They say you should let life take its course, not worry too much, and relax for what has to happen will happen. And everything happens for the good.

They have had a very easy life, I'd say.

How can you just let it be? There are certain issues that nag you all the time: why did this happen? Or what will happen now? Etc and these issues consume your mind your energy your existence with a fervor so great you are pretty much incapable of doing or even thinking something else. How, then, are you supposed to just lay back and let whatever is happening, happen. How, then, can u just leave it up to God & Destiny & Fate?

Do They also not say that God helps those who help themselves?

Should we not then do something, anything that we can do to make sure that events turn out in our favor? Should we not then revisit events that happened, wonder why certain things happened and be better prepared for a next time if such a situation were to arise? Should we not learn from our mistakes? Should we not make sure that we try our best not to commit mistakes? There is a God, there is Fate and there is Destiny. But is that all that is there? Do we have no power over the outcome of our life? Is everything to the tiniest detail planned and plotted by God, Fate & Destiny?

They are conspicuously quiet now.

Until next time…

TableTop & FATAK!

2009-08-12T18:15:00.001+05:30

There is this guy that some of us have abhorrently named "TableTop"

It's best his actual identity and the reason for the name remain, well, hidden from public domain.

But the reason we gave him that name abhorrently, is because we ALL abhor him.

He's like this irritating buzzing noise that you can hear if you have a really bad TV set – one that try as hard as you may to ignore, it is so persistent that you just can't.

So he was there somewhere in the background and I wanted to drown out his abhorring voice so I put on the music and listen to the soundtrack of Kaminey (which BTW is another nice way of describing him – Kamina) and was listening to this nice number called fatak and there was that para which was so apt for TableTop!

A little backgrounder before the aforementioned para here: he has absolutely no work in life, he will never do his own work, he is always finding people to pakao & offload his work to etc, he walks around talking on his handsfree set (meant for cars???) smack in the middle of office, he talks really loudly, when he talks (to people) people scatter far away from him faster than pollen on a windy day (including the ones he was trying to talk to), since he has no work he always roaming the streets (so to say!) and bugging people who have genuine work in life, he self invites himself when a bunch is heading out for lunch, he doesn't get the hint when he Is purposely left behind!, he self invites himself to official events, his highlight of attending official events is the "imported beer" served there "for free yaar!!!!" , oh and since u must have figured out by now (even though I was trying to be professional and not mention it) that he is from my workplace I might as well mention he belongs to he senior management cadre.

Imagine.

The much amusing para:

"ginti na karna iski yaaron mei…
awara ghoomein galiyaron mein…
ye chipkoo hamesha satayega…
yeh jayega aur fir laut ayega!"

FATAK!!

Until next time…

The Mango People

2009-08-12T16:40:00.001+05:30

Yes, I know its clichéd and everybody and their aunt who has watched Love Aaj Kal loves it, including me.

But this post is about them, The Mango People, the aam junta.

Quirky behavior that only an aam aadmii can get away with.

Like wearing masks(or handkerchiefs daaku style, for the lack of masks) to protect themselves from the so called pandemic outbreak of swine flu. And looking paranoid, shit-scared, and funny all at the same time.

Like carrying a bottle of nilgiri oil to office and making the entire office smell like a hill station fresh out of a Yash Chopra (the old original ones, not the the new ones that just carry the YashRaj tag) movies. And tearing the head of the poor person who has a genuine cold (and nothing else) for coming to office and putting everyone else in "danger".

Like tapping the person standing at the door of a local and ask – "are you going to get off at the next station?"
(And why else would I be standing at the door otherwise???)

Like being practical, and then regretting it.

Like just posting crap like this and getting away with it!

Until next time…

Rains and a Cough

2009-07-28T16:11:00.001+05:30

So it's been raining. Sporadically. Its sunny one moment, & pouring the next. And this sporadicity (it's not a word, but I made it up coz it perfectly explains the point I'm tryin to make) has been continuous, pun intended. On Sunday I went with kiki for a bike ride, assuming a nice warm sunny morning was perfect for it. And on the way back, got caught in this –did I mention, sporadic- rainfall. More like bucket-fall of water. But whatever. Have been coughing since, shivering a bit at night, and still feeling hot when I wear my windcheater and walk in the rain. (Which by the way is a necessity, as you don't get a rick from andheri station to chakala, and I do have to get to work right?)

The cough has intensified into a relapse of the stomach infection I had last week (if ur thinking how, join the club) and I now currently am battling 2 infections with one very weak immunity system. Not to forget that my sinus usually acts up in the rain and is waiting for like the one more time that I get drenched (which is inevitable, as I have to not only walk to office from the station but also walk back from the office to the station in the evenings, each trip taking 25 minutes on an average; and I can't possibly be that optimistic to think that it will never rain at any of these 2 times on all the days left of the monsoon season) post which it too will unveil its ugly face.

It's good in a way. All the coughing has hurt my vocal cords and I now sound like a frog. Gives them poor lonely souls on the road some company.

Croak Croak

Until next time…

Kaisa khuda hai tu…

2009-07-13T16:03:00.001+05:30

Manga jo mera hai,

Jaataa kya tera hai,

Maine kaunsi tujhse jannat mang li.

Kaisa khuda hai tu,

Bas naam ka hai tu,

Rabba jo teri itni si bhi na chali.

Chahiye jo mujhe karde tu mujko adaa.

Jeeti rahe sultanat teri,

Jeeti rahe aashiqui meri,

Dede mujhe zindagi meri, tenu dil da vaasta…

Until next time…

Tenu Dil Da Vaastaa

2009-07-09T14:29:00.001+05:30

Baksha gunahon ko,

Sunke duaon ko,

Rabba pyaar hai tune sabko hi de diya.

Meri bhi aahon ko,

Sun le duaon ko,

Mujhko woh dila maine jisko hai dil diya.

Aas woh,

Pyas woh,

Usko de itna bata.

Who jo mujhe dekhke hase,

Panaa chahoon raat din jise,

Rabba mere naam kar use, tenu dil da vaastaa…

Until next time…

Affected

2009-07-03T10:39:00.001+05:30

An incident occurs in your life, and you get affected. You face it, what other choice do you have. So you face it, live with it, deal with it, accept it. You live through it, bear the brunt, face the side effects, and let it affect you. And then you think it over. You feel a joy at having survived it. You feel strong.

But it's a false alarm. That one incident can and will affect you for the rest of your life. It will come back to haunt you again and again, making you weaker at every instance, till it eventually breaks you down. It will make it a point to affect all the important issues/people in your life, obviously in a negative manner, and be at it regularly till you don't give up and bow down.

Till you don't break. Till you don't shatter.

Is this even legal? How many times is one incident allowed to affect your life? Is there no law protecting us against the atrocities of such incidents? Are people not allowed second chances anymore? How much does one thing you did in the past matter so much in your future? Isn't the past supposed to belong in the past, and the future be a new beginning?

Apparently not.

Until next time…

Parents

2009-07-01T10:38:00.001+05:30

Parents. The ones who raise us from tiny babies into full grown adults. The ones who feed us when we can't feed ourselves, the ones who fend for us when we are barely able to open our eyes.

Parents.

But then, we grow up. We have a mind of our own, choices of our own, decisions of our own, in short: a life of our own. And they have a plan of their own.

What we should eat, what we shouldn't eat, what we should study, what we shouldn't study, how we should study, how we shouldn't study, who we should be friends with, who we shouldn't associate with, who we should marry and who we shouldn't marry.

No matter, that it is our life that is in discussion here. What matters is their approval. I agree that they have our best interest at heart, but somewhere I feel that it is tainted with a bit of selfishness. "what will people think…" or "how could my child do this?"

How far should a parent control a child's life? Especially after the child has reached a certain age (25 good enough?) and is mature enough to make his/her own decisions. This is a debate that has raged on for ages, and is of more relevance in a country like India, where the culture doesn't permit a child to go too astray from the parent's aspiration. There are advocates on both sides. I'm not saying that a child should rebel all out and do what he pleases. But I'm also saying that some decisions should be left to children, especially after they reach a certain age.

I've been a victim of this parent-pressure many a times. Sometimes it's been my parents sometimes it's been someone else's parents. Either ways, it's my life, my mental peace, my happiness that gets affected in the end. When will they realize that?

Until next time…

A Bored Poem - Written long ago…

2009-06-15T16:59:00.001+05:30

Once upon a time

In a land far away

There was a sleepy village

Whose name was Jilmanway

The people of that village

Were always sleepy and droopy

And the children there had no toys to play with

So they played with dogs that had names like floopy

One fine day

When everyone was sleepy and taking a break,

A little boy called Andre

Suddenly became wide awake

The people then got worried

Wakefulness did not make them happy

For when someone awakened

They forgot to be sleepy

So they told little Andre

"Go to sleep, o little one"

For if u r awake in the day

For u night and day will become one!

But little Andre was adamant

He didn't like being sleepy

And so he went to the playground

And played with his cat Freepy

Andre and Freepy

Played the games of fun

And then evening came

And down went the sun

Tired and hungry Andre went home

And threw his dirty clothes in a heap

He then ate his supper: pasta from Rome

And promptly fell asleep.

Then the people of Jilmanway

Learnt an important lesson

That more than sleep, children need to play

And to discuss this, they had a discussion

"If Andre can play and then sleep

Then this the way I'd like to keep"

Said his father, his mother nodded and added too

"And I think this should be followed by you"

So everyone agreed to this one thing

And then every morning bells began to ring

All children went out to play

And the parents worked the entire day

The sleepy town of Jilmanway

Was not so sleepy anymore

The people went to work, the children to play

And so they renamed it as activity-ray.

Until next time…

Dalaa Kya?

2009-05-08T13:19:00.002+05:30

Dalaa.
Vote.

Until next time...

I Wish

2009-04-24T17:49:00.004+05:30

I wish i was there too, calling out "Motu",
Running away from your tickling fingers, running towards u to hug u.

http://bikramsnehi.blogspot.com/2009/04/revisiting-quad.html

Until next time...

Euphoria and a Gas Balloon

2009-04-09T18:09:00.003+05:30

There is a hope.
There is a begining.
There is a ray of light, in the the absolute darkness.
There is a life.

After all.

As the car stopped at a red light, she looked outside the window to see a blue gas balloon slowly float up to the dark sky. For a moment, it was her and the ballon. No noise. No euphoria. No music. No talking.
Just her, the ballon, and a feeling to finally, finally, coming home. Of being satisfied. Of being at peace.
As the light turned green, and the balloon faded from her sight, she was pulled back into the noise, the happiness, the din of a bunch of friends chattering away to glory. She dived back in, head-along. After all, she had the last 3 months of being quiet to make up for.

Until next time...

Belated Happy April Fool’s Day

2009-04-02T22:24:00.001+05:30

It was a dry one this year, April fool's day. No pranks, no fun. No mood, no need, no inclination.

But I made up for it.

It so happened that a friend of mine (promised him, wouldn't mention his name!) missed April fools day by one day when he was born. So I called him to wish him a very happy birthday today. And ended up giving myself a belated happy April fool's day instead! He didn't recognize my number (landline) and as the usual habit of making a fool of people who aren't smart enough to recognize my voice, I took his case too. I pretended to be a relationship executive from a well known MNC bank, and after identifying myself (with a pseudo-name, of course!) went on to wishing him a very happy birthday. After that, I informed him that he was chosen to become one of our esteemed HNI clients, and so I wanted to come and meet him today itself personally. I also mentioned that I would bring cake and flowers. This flattered the guy to no end, and he was all shy-blushy-flattered. To his credit I must mention that he said that there was no need for the cake etc, but he would like to know the features of this HNI-Account that I was offering him. I was on the verge of mentioning a free trip to Bangkok (his favorite holiday destination) when I couldn't hold it any longer and burst out laughing!

Needless to say the next 10 minutes were spent in him trying to convince me that he knew this was a prank and that he reacted in such a manner because he did know someone with the same name as the pseudo-name that I chose and that he was an HNI client with his bank already and also pointing out numerous times that he did refuse the cake and flowers; and me not believing one word of what he as saying and laughing non-stop!

After a long time I laughed. So hard, my stomach hurt because of it. And for once, I welcomed the pain in my stomach and the water flowing out of my eyes. I gave him only my best wishes, but in return he gave me a happy day in between these dark, gloomy days. For that I can never thank him enough. May god give him all that his heart desires, even if it is only a preeti (pretty) banker chick that brings him cake and flowers!

Here's wishing him a very happy birthday, and me a belated happy April fool's Day.

God knows, I needed it.

Until next time…

Bullshit

2009-03-28T12:27:00.001+05:30

There is no beginning, new or otherwise: it's all bullshit.

I was right earlier: It's the end.

And why not.

Who cares anyways.

People shouldn't pretend things they never meant.

It hurts more.

Bullshit.

All bullshit.

Until next time…

Slow

2009-03-26T13:32:00.000+05:30

Its a slow new begining...almost like a non begining..
:(

unti next time...