Hmmm....

Ugggghhh...

2011-04-08T19:49:00.000+05:30

Placed an order for my own birthday cake.

Didn't realize what it meant till the cake lady burst out laughing...

Choices

2010-04-17T21:41:00.000+05:30

Somewhere along the line, he forgot that she liked making choices just as much he did.Apologies.

All about him

2009-10-27T11:41:00.004+05:30

He takes up most of the bed.. and most of my thoughts.. so i think i'll stop resisting the urge to write about it.. :D

Art

2009-02-26T14:45:00.002+05:30

SCENE : (Coast to Coast restaurant in Koramangala.
A quick weekday lunch to beat being bored at work.
Waiting for our order of chicken sukka and neer dosa)

me : (pointing to one of the posters on the wall)
Do you know what that is?

him: Yakshagana

me: Yup... didn't think you'd know :)

him: I've performed.

-pause-

me: You've WHAT?

him: Performed.

me: Performed?

him: Yup.

-pause-

him:(caving in to my 'yeah right' look)
Performed.. as in.. "helped" them perform..

me:( laughing).. oh i see.. and thats the same thing..

-after a couple of minutes-

him: Actually.. we used to get drunk and then 'perform' on the terrace in our hostel

me:!!!!!!!!!! (berating myself for assuming there was a possibility of truth
in the idea that he could have helped someone perform yakshagaana
, since his college was in suratkal)

- pause -

him: I've also done Kathakali..

me: Drunk? on the terrace?

him: Yup

- another couple of minutes -

me: (looking at the yakshagana poster on the wall)
S0... when you're drunk and performing yakshagaana and kathakali on the terrace...
how would you know the difference?

him: The Mudras... (ofcourse)

------------

.

The girl with a million faces...

2008-12-16T15:42:00.004+05:30

Welcome Home G!

Wanted : Person

2008-09-24T12:54:00.002+05:30

To watch me bawl my eyes out, pour shots to get me pitch drunk, make sure i pass out, tuck me in, feed my dog. Applicants should not ask any damn questions. Smokers preferred. Will write note to make sure you get dropped back home.

Really...

2008-09-01T15:22:00.001+05:30

How do you tell people that new born babies are NOT cute?
Give it a couple of months and then we'll decide..

P.S: Are they? Is there something wrong with me?

24-08-08

2008-08-27T14:17:00.005+05:30

I am the engaged ...

These are a few of his favourite things...

2008-07-22T11:26:00.001+05:30

Stones, Ants, Bras, Socks, Shoes, Chappals, Underwear, Handkerchiefs, Mobile phones, Mobile phone chargers, Sticks, Bottles, Plastic bags, Boxes, Books, Tissues, Caps, Plants, Pillows, Soft Toys, Tennis Balls, Bedsheets, Coconuts, Mugs, Brooms, Dustpans, Doormats, Spoons, Forks, Leaves, Bones, Ice cubes, Flowers and Hands (occasionally)..

...TO CHEW UP and destroy (occasionally).

Thankyou....

2008-05-27T12:58:00.009+05:30

To momentary distractions that give you a second to pose before you once again lunge at your photographer and try to eat her Canon EOS 400 D.

Quotes...

2008-05-05T14:44:00.003+05:30

There are many ways to love someone. Sometimes we want love so much, we're not too choosy about who we love. Other times, we make love such a pure and noble thing, no poor human can ever meet our vision. But for the most part, love is a recognition, an opportunity to say, "There is something about you I cherish." It doesn't entail marriage, or even physical love. There's love of parents, love of city or nation, love of life, and love of people. All different, all love.

P.S.: Sometimes you read something that makes sense to you.. It maybe a very obvious idea.. but the words fit together and ring a bell in your mind.. Reason enough to write it down somewhere.

New Year so far..

2008-04-11T23:32:00.002+05:30

Typhoid for Jan.. Relapse for Feb.. Ruptured appendix for March..
Three months medical leave at home sweet home..
Life is good. Certainly leaves no room for complaints :D

Letters...

2007-11-29T18:03:00.000+05:30

There's a plastic file in a cupboard back home. I see it sometimes when I'm searching for something. A file full of letters that I've read so many times I used to know them by heart. I don't open it anymore.. I never read the letters.. It just sits there.. To catch my eye when I'm searching for something in the cupboard back home.. To remind me of someone I used to be.. of someone who used to write to me.. some love that still lingers on in a file full of letters..

I have..

2007-10-15T16:13:00.000+05:30

Fawn coloured hair all over my floors.
Taped my electrical cords to the wall.
Stopped looking for pairs of my chappals.
Hands that smell of Dog food and milk.
Blocked off my kitchen with a huge suitcase.
Wake up 'whines' at six thirty a.m.
No more need for a vacuum cleaner.
Newspapers spread out blotting up pee.
Dustbin hanging from a cord on the wall.
Teething marks all over my arms.
Parts of my walls being chewed off.
No time to go out.
To sneak up to anything that is 'food'.
My feet 'licked' dry after a bath.
Nothing to write in a blog.
Never been happier.
A puppy.

Coffee..

2007-09-28T14:54:00.007+05:30

At his best .. :)

Casual Leave..

2007-08-06T14:05:00.000+05:30

Take a Friday off from work to snuggle up in the old Tom and Jerry quilt, with a Historical Romance, home delivered baked chicken and no guilty conscience...

Very very good for the soul.

:)

Meera..

2007-07-05T20:28:00.000+05:30

Meera is a senior of mine who's number i dial sometimes... and never get through.. coz she's almost always gone .. I got this link in my mail today..
WOW!

Retrospect....

2007-07-04T15:20:00.000+05:30

" I need u, my family, books, good house, puppy, lots of travelling, bourbon whiskey, good music system, a sexy car..nice kids..thats all.
To hell with everything else.. "

-- Liar.

Waking Up..

2007-06-29T15:46:00.000+05:30

Couple of weeks back, M. told me that my blog was dead.. A. told me it looked like the last step of a virtual suicide.. And I started thinking of nice 'last posts' to put up....
'This blog is dead. I have nothing more to say' sorts of posts.... but I never got around to it.. Today, I got a card in my mail. My birthday was two months back and there's no reason anybody should be sending me a card unless its someone sending me a marriage invite.. As stupid as it sounds (I sound).. I was thrilled!! Somebody sent me a card .It was most probably an invite.. But still..
So I got to my desk.. opened it and saw the girliest card ever, wishing me a happy 13th birthday.. This had to be the work of some psycho or some absent minded dodo who didnt even bother what card they were getting me... But still some nice absent minded dodo who went to the pains of writing down my address and all :) (Yes.. its been very very very long since I got mail)
Inside the glittery birthday card, it says '23-Jun-2007'.. and that most defenitely IS NOT MY BIRTHDAY.. But it is the day i first joined work.. One look at the handwriting and I know this is the work of a major psycho.... we have common parents.. :D
It made me laugh.. and it made me happy.. which is not something I've been in a long time.. So I'm putting this here..

"Hey,
Associate Consultant.. Congrats!
I'm gonna write you a few encouraging words, hope they make sense, not just to you, to me and everyone else too. I really appreciate all the hard work, especially for fighting the ODDS and for being ON TIME for work Everyday... For being my 'ORACLE' too!!

...The times when you put yourself together and proceeded for work, despite all the ODDS being against you!! Having all those things in your world go loco.. those terrible terrible colds, insane loose motions, diarrhoeas, those arrogant auto waalas, having to take that pink tiffin box to office, YES.. pink tiffin box to Prestige Towers, boyfriend fights, leaving a mohanlal movie halfway through and so many other ODDS that you have had to overcome to complete two years of being employed...

Alright.. basically means that I'm proud of you Chechi.. Keep Going.. Cheers!"

Its a 'Happy 13th birthday' card for a 23 year old on her second anniversary of joining work.. All nutty, sarcastic and nonsensical but still .. Made my day.

Thankyou Rahul. :)

Rain...

2007-04-23T13:12:00.000+05:30

Yesterday, it rained. I opened my red umbrella, rolled up my jeans, held my bag close and walked. People rushed by in a hurry.. to get out of the rain, opening umbrellas, holding plastic bags over their heads, some holding their hands out of their umbrellas, some getting thoroughly drenched, and I wasn't all that dry either.. It felt good though.. like there was some sort of curtain around me and my red umbrella.. Time and space for my thoughts.. and it would all stay within.. I remembered an sms conversation from last year.. when it had started to rain just like this..

R: Hows Bangalore?
M: It was hot till yesterday and all of a sudden its raining cats and dogs.
R: Are you complaining?
M: I'm not sure.
R: I always thought you were the sort of person who'd like rain.

M likes that R thinks that thought.. She leaves it at that..

As the wind blew the rain straight into me and messed with my umbrella I wondered if I should be smiling at all.. because i was.

To Me..

2007-04-10T23:08:00.000+05:30

A pair of black stilettos, an aroma therapy set, silver earrings, a locket, a ring, a new dress, a box of beetroot halwa, a painting, a surprise party, chocolate cake, a bottle of white wine, a blue sleeveless kurta, a giant book on crafts, twenty three white roses, anklets, a book of handmade paper, a glass jewelry box, sweet and salt lime soda, tandoori platter at Legends of Rock, hearing a firang sing Roobaaroo, and a lesson learnt about feeling good about myself..

A VERRRY Happy Materialistic Birthday...

TO ME!!

:)

Note to self..

2007-03-30T16:18:00.000+05:30

Promises -- Get them in writing.

Death..

2007-03-29T19:06:00.000+05:30

Predicted.

Know this..

2007-03-09T12:36:00.000+05:30

Here's all you have to know about men and women: women are crazy, men are stupid. And the main reason women are crazy is that men are stupid.

-- George Carlin

Battle..

2007-02-20T15:28:00.000+05:30

They have been silent for over two minutes now.. both holding onto the phone waiting for the other person to say something....
She knows he will ask, "Dont you have anything to say?".. And if she says no.. he will say, "Fine." and hang up... most probably without saying, "Bye"..
She could beat him to it.. She could be the one to ask, "Dont you have anything to say?".. and it would be his problem.. to say "No" and be the reason for the end of the conversation.. or to come up with something to say and acknowledge that he needs it to continue....
It shouldn't be difficult for two people like them to come up with something to say.. But the routine is such, that after the two minutes of the 'I-dont-care-to-say-anything' silence, inorder to continue the conversation, you must let go of all pride and acknowledge that continuing the conversation is important to you even if it isnt for the other person.. and in that lies the deflating of the ego which built up over the two minutes of silently wondering who will be the first to ask the question...
"Dont you have anything to say?" he wins.
"No" .. she wins.
"Fine." he hangs up.. (and yes.. wins)

Vacation..

2007-01-05T16:33:00.000+05:30

Here's a picture that I took while I was there..

Here's what I couldn't take pictures of..
1. mummy's cooking
2. green apples
3. grapefruit juice
4. laughter
5. blissful sleep

I want to go back :(

Closest..

2006-12-15T12:43:00.000+05:30

'Hey, tell me something..' she said,' and only one thing thats really close to your heart.. closest.. can be a person also.'

And I felt happy... that somebody wanted to know.
I thought of the people that I love.... and I couldn't make up my mind... And yet I wanted to come up with something that wouldn't disappoint this person.. this person who made me happy because she wanted to know something about me.

So I thought.. of the e-mails my brother writes me.. of songs that make me happy.. of home.. my mom's cooking.. my father walking around with his glass of scotch.. a bunch of unsent letters to a teenage crush.. of late night phone conversations .. early morning scooter rides when the whole city is asleep... of just being allowed to be myself and being loved.. I went on a trip thinking.. and felt good about all the things that I held close to my heart.. and then deciding that none of my thoughts were good enough, for the 'closest thing'... I kept thinking...

I finally told her,that if I were to think of a person that I held close to my heart, there are four that I cannot choose from.. And I cannot think of a 'thing' that would ever compare to them.. I knew it wasn't an impressive answer, but atleast it was honest..

I asked her what her answer would be.. And she said, 'My dreams are the closest to my heart.. I can't pick people or things.. All my dreams are the closest to my heart..'

And I smiled, impressed... but still happy that she had asked me...

Just Friends..

2006-12-13T13:19:00.000+05:30

They're just friends.
Even though most love songs remind him of her...

A thought..

2006-12-12T13:50:00.000+05:30

When I was in college, I used to pray every morning.. and I had this perfect prayer worked out.. with no loopholes.. It covered everything...I prayed for 'long, happy , healthy' lives for my family, and that I would die before any of them.. And then I had one line for each of them.. Generally covering their health, what they dreamed for and wishing something nice for them. Then there were friends who needed to get placed, backs cleared, a CAT aspirant who i wished would get into IIM A, B or C or anywhere else that God thought would be perfect for him. Then for myself.. that I wouldn't get caught sleeping in class, that i wouldn't be asked any questions and generally that sessionals would go well, exams would be cleared and that I would never disappoint my parents. And after all this I'd put in a line for the 'general good of humanity'.. whatever that implied. I thought it was perfect.. my perfect prayer with no loopholes.. That if I protect the tiny world around me with prayers everything would be fine.. And I know there are times when things don't really work out and there's disappointment.. But I was better off that way.. I realize now that praying everyday is something that I learnt and left in college.. With sessionals and placements and getting caught sleeping in class and so many things to worry about, it was something I needed.. And somehow now, its taken a back seat... I have stopped praying everyday.. its sort of sad to admit this.. but I forget!.. Its as if I have settled into some complacent little routine where I've stopped worrying about things other than what to wear.. or whether the meter on the rick is showing exactly 25 rupees to get till office.. or whether I'll be able to deliver the code.. Thats it.. and none of that calls for daily prayer.. But I should still be praying for my family.. and I convince myself that my mom does enough of it to compensate for me.. So that leaves me with just once in a while emergency-prayers for when somebody wants something real bad or is worried about something.. And I don't know where this is taking me, but I've just settled into it and I cant seem to break out of it.. and its beginning to worry me.. :)

Believe it or not...

2006-11-28T11:21:00.000+05:30

Someone I know once went to drop off his girlfriend at the railway station.
They held hands ALL THE TIME and since they didn't have much to talk about, they concentrated on, and perfected, the art of looking at each other dreamily, like a pair of love-sick cows.. I mean doves. So anyways, story is, they were at the railway station and he was supposed to see her off. They were holding hands as usual. He didn't want to let go. So he took another ticket and travelled all the way to Kottayam (65 km away) because he couldn't 'bear' to let go..
Aaaah Love!.... * puke *

P.S.:All characters and events portrayed are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental, but if you know what i'm talking about, then Hey! How are you? See I wrote a post about you.. :)

2006-11-21T14:03:00.000+05:30

WHAT???

Seriously.. WHAAA.. ?!?

She ask, me write 2

2006-11-06T11:46:00.000+05:30

G doesn't think this is as good. But still...

She ask : You haven't spoken to your best friend Jalajasri for nearly two years. Do you remember what caused the rift between the two of you?

My take :

"New School !" they told me. "English medium!" , "ICSE !" , "Quality" , "Standard".. I heard them say.."New friends," They tried to convince me.. I would love it.. They were sure.. And I did not. I hated it. A class of 23 snotty 12 year olds who gave me one look and collectively dismissed me.. for wearing two plaits folded up with dark blue ribbon, for wearing my anklets over my socks, for smelling like coconut oil, and for bringing curd rice for lunch instead of cheese sandwiches. Being ignored.. For a whole month. They wouldn't look at me if I stood in their path, not that I dared to. I hated it. I hated the school. I hated them and I had begun to hate myself.
Until Jalajasri talked to me.
After a month in that horrible class, she smiled at me, and we walked home together that day, holding hands. She was kind. She didn't care what the other girls thought. She liked me the way I was, not that I knew very well.. We could talk about anything.. We had nicknames for all the snotty girls in class.. We rolled our eyes imitating them and burst out laughing.. I was finally happy. She was my best friend, my confidante, my sister almost, the best thing that had happened to me. I didn't feel miserable anymore.
Then they caught us whispering in class. I remember how the teacher stared at us, and the whole class turned to look at the two of us.. in the back bench.. "Atleast they were looking at me, finally!", I whispered to her once class resumed. I don't know whether they heard me again, coz they all stopped and stared again. The teacher looked upset when I refused to tell her who I was talking to.. As if I would betray my best friend!
Then Papa took me to the doctor. I think they thought I was mad. They said she was imaginary! Jalajasri! As if I was stupid! I don't know when I stopped talking to her.. I think it was the night Amma held me to her chest and sobbed. I didn't want her to cry. She made me promise I wouldn't talk to Jalajasri. Ever.

----------------

She ask, me write

2006-11-02T10:18:00.000+05:30

"Okay, here's the idea," she said. "I ask you a question and you write a short story explaining it."
And everybody's attempt would be a 'take' in the comments box...

She ask:She knew he wouldn't approve. So why did Visalakshi go ahead and do it anyway?

and
'my take':

She watched with her chin in her palm, elbow resting on the table, as her mother-in-law gobbled up her dinner noisily. Visalakshi was used to this. She would eat up everything drenched in buttermilk, tilt the plate and slurp up what was left, wipe the plate clean with her fingers, lick each one of them, sit back in her chair and burp loudly. Then she would make a face at Visa, tell her there was too much salt or too less or something and walk off leaving a mess at the table. Then she had to be read to and finally her feet massaged till she fell asleep. And she took forever to fall asleep, nagging and complaining about every thing that fell in front of her myopic eyes. She had heard it a million times and could almost... almost tune it out. Except when the old lady started off about how Venky should have agreed to marry his uncle's daughter Mythili, and how much better off they would have all been if that match had worked out!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaargh!! They had been married 6 years and they had two kids and the old lady was still thinking about his marriage proposals. Nobody and nothing was good enough for her and her precious catch of a son!! Every time Venky's mother came to stay with them, Visalakshi would be walking a tight rope, gritting her teeth, being 'polite', 'civil', 'respectful', slaving away at the kitchen to feed the old woman's enormous appetite, cleaning up after her, washing her clothes and massaging her legs forever. The kids steered clear of their mother, stifling their laughter when she threw them warning looks.

As she wiped the table clean, she heard her mother-in-law call her, and she rolled her eyes at the hours of feet massaging that would undoubtedly ensue. She sat on the floor rubbing Tiger balm onto those hated legs, tuned in reluctantly now and then to hear the name 'Mythili' and songs of her glory, and felt miserable at the thought that there was no way out of this. Every now and then, she would come for her 'visit' and things would be the same, if not worse. To get away, just once, and have Venky do this instead of her. That'd be a dream!

She heard her snore and got up, ran to the bedroom, packed two bags; one for her, one for the kids. As she stood in front of the mirror, combing her hair in a hurry.. She paused and practised her lines...
" Hello Venky? I had a call from home.. Amma is not feeling well.. I have to go right away.. I'm taking the kids.. Vacation time no.. so its ok.. I've called the maid from nextdoor.. She'll stay with your mother till you come.. Yes.. I know.. You might have to take leave while she's here.. But .. you understand right?"

He might not approve.. But what the hell .. She grinned.

----------------

P.S.: In the excitement of finally having a 'take', I forgot that she'd asked to keep it short. :D

Let go..

2006-10-26T12:03:00.000+05:30

Yesterday he asked me how she's doing. I said I don't know... I wish I'd bothered to find out.. atleast so I'd have something to tell him when he asked me..
But then.. I never thought he'd ask me.
I used to wish she'd just let go of him.. Yesterday I wished she hadn't.
I wish he hadn't let her.

Condolences..

2006-10-10T15:02:00.000+05:30

I wish I knew what to say to you.... I wish I had the guts to call you up.. But no matter what everyone tells me.. I'm sure you don't want to talk to anyone right now... I'm sure you're least interested in people's condolences.. What is it actually? Someone expressing their sympathy for your loss? I'm sure they're grateful it didn't happen to them... It sounds evil.. but I know I'm praying it doesn't happen to me... I'm praying that I won't have to lose anybody I love.. When I tell you that I'll pray for you.. What will I be praying for? I guess I could pray that you have the strength to come through this and go on without him.. But I can't possibly tell you that.. What should I say? What can I possibly say that you would want to hear right now? It doesn't make sense...

In a car...

2006-10-04T12:22:00.000+05:30

To answer the lesser known , "HOW did the chicken cross the road?"

Angel..

2006-09-11T14:51:00.000+05:30

You make my heart melt everytime I look at you.. the cutest thing I've ever set eyes on..

Can't help wishing you were mine..

tea..

2006-09-01T12:47:00.000+05:30

I was on my way out, trying to strap the velcro of my floaters on, running down the stairs.. and something about the scene in front of me made me slow down.. the two old friends sitting on the sofa.. at right angles to each other.. with their legs stretched out on the small centre table.. talking about old times and motor cycle days and retirements and knee ailments.. I've seen pictures of them from their bell bottom days.. one with a french beard and shades.. and the other with a thick pointy edged mouche and a cowboy hat.. And now here they sit.. with their stretched out legs on the centre table.. the french beard has disappeared.. he has a pot belly now and his knees are giving him trouble.. The other has skinnied down... balding slightly.. his moustache trimmed and almost entirely grey... She brings in tea and sliced plum cake.. Black tea for her husband, the other one for his friend.. She pushes the plate of cakes towards their guest. As he sips his tea, he thanks her and even though she tilts her head and raises her eyebrows as if to say, 'There's no need'.. I can see she's pleased.. She sits down with them as her husband reaches out for the cakes.. and I'm on my way out smiling at the trio..

funny..

2006-08-24T15:54:00.000+05:30

" I can see the carrot at the end of the tunnel "
-- Stuart Pearce

No.. I don't know who he is.. but seems he's got something to do with footbal..
Whatever.. it cracked me up :)

For me..

2006-08-23T12:31:00.000+05:30

I decided at some point that i wouldn't put anything about myself in here... It all goes back to the first blog feeling about why would anyone write down their thoughts for the world to read and judge.. But somedays you couldn't care less. What does it matter if what I have to say is interesting or whether someone liked it or not.. There's a billion things we do everyday so that its the right thing and what is expected of you.. Basically I just want to rant today.. I woke up with swollen eyes and a stuffy nose from my sinuses acting up overnight... I decided to lie around in bed for a while and read this novel i got .. Its 'Lucia, Lucia' and I don't know if the author is famous or whether the book is famous.. I just found it and am happy that I've got something to read.. Anyway.. so early in the morning, I read that Lucia's newly born two week old baby neice dies... And I'm not generally carried away by things that happen in novels.. But still it got me thinking about how and why things like that happen.. Whats the need for a woman to carry a baby for nine months and go through all that.. For the family that surrounds her to be expecting the baby, for everybody to look forward to something so much that they love it even before its born.. and then have it die in two weeks? I guess it happens all around the world.. And if I start listing out events there are more than enough calamities and unfairness all over for me to get worked up and depressed about.. And I don't know if thats what went wrong.. I put the book down, had breakfast, bathed, got ready, watered the plants and came off thinking that something is wrong.. Something's bogging me down.. and I can't stop thinking that something is wrong but i dont' know what it is.. And its still like that.. Something is wrong.. or its going to go wrong.. I know.. and I hate feeling like this...

Romance?

2006-08-09T13:48:00.000+05:30

Girl: Why can't you be romantic?
Guy: What do you want me to do?
[very short pause]
Girl: Forget it.. You ruined it already.. Why do i bother asking!
Guy: Ok.. tell me what you mean by 'romance'..
Girl: Its about doing something beautiful for someone without being motivated by sex.
Guy: You mean I have a romantic relationship with my mom?
Girl: Aaaaaaaaaaaargh! bye.
..
Later on 'Girl' goes to google, answers.com, webster's and wikipedia..

P.S: Decided NOT to send him a link to this

To be.. or not (hopefully)

2006-08-08T20:56:00.000+05:30

His 'true calling' in life.. changes every month..

He wants to be:

. Sachin Tendulkar's secretary
. A commercial pilot
. A restaurant owner with well endowed waitresses
. A scuba diving instructor
. An actor
. A movie producer/director (what kind.. i'm not sure)
. A professor giving lectures on narcotics
. Rich enough to own a Mercedes McLaren SLR
. A travel journalist
. A sports car driver
. A rapper
. An arms trader

. Married to her (she hopes)

An SMS

2006-08-03T09:39:00.000+05:30

Life without love ... is like a boob without a nipple..

Pointless.

(Yeah it made me smile and yeah i was bored brain dead)

Closed...

2006-07-25T15:13:00.000+05:30

I wish I were a shop.. with those big metal shutters...
I'd pull down the shutters, put a big brass lock on it and hang a sign that says 'CLOSED'.
And I'd stay inside shut out from everything.
I wouldn't have to deal with anything.
Not even myself.

She's changing..

2006-06-30T21:40:00.000+05:30

She thinks I haven't noticed...
The newly bought pumice stone.. The daily 'foot scrub'...
Finishing off the bottle of moisturizer on her feet..
The new anklet .. and her toes painted silver...
Right after I told her I've seen him judge women by their feet..

And she thinks I haven't noticed.. :)

Objects in the mirror

2006-06-29T23:58:00.000+05:30

Are closer than they appear....

Ego..

2006-06-01T13:30:00.000+05:30

I will not call him.

Just remembered..

2006-05-17T15:22:00.000+05:30

I don't know how this came to me today.. or why.. I was on my way to work.. and I remembered this happening a long time back.. I think I was in first grade then.. and I think the class was Social Studies or something of the sort.. We were learning either about Family or Professions.. or something.. Can't remember.. But there was this part where I had to write down my Dad's profession.. and I didn't know what that was.. He was working for Schindler Elevators then, and I remember him telling me that Elevators were the same as 'Lifts' .. like the one in our building.. And I don't know how I came up with the term 'Lift Operator'.. I felt really proud of my Dad for being someone so cool, and of myself for having come up with such a cool profession amongst all the Doctors and Engineers and Bank Managers.. My teacher raised her eyebrows when she saw what I'd written.. smiled and asked me if I was sure.. I nodded .... and when my turn came to read it aloud in class.. I don't think it made an impact on anybody.. except I think the teacher.. and yes... my mom when I got home.. I think she was struck .. she probably imagined my Dad wearing a red coat with two parallel rows of round silver buttons and a cap and standing in a corner of a lift asking people which floor they'd like to go to... She told me Daddy wasn't a Lift operator.. and to my disappointment erased it and made me write 'Engineer'.. which, I consoled myself, was something like a Train operator...

Crush...

2006-05-09T11:21:00.000+05:30

He had a beard and I'd seen him twice... I don't remember if I heard people talk about him, but I have a feeling I did. There was no other way for me to form an impression about someone I had seen twice. He's the sort of guy who probably writes well...Listens to music I've never heard of, or will ever understand.. done drugs, probably still does... sketches, draws or paints in abstract ways he doesn't care to explain.. Probably cooks.. Not sure he bathes very often .. Must've had plenty of affairs with like minded unconventional women.. He could be gay.. But I like to think that he isn't... Doubt he believes in marriage.... Surely likes photography.. probably black and white.. Can't imagine him in formals.. Must be the sort that loves to travel.. Doesn't care too much about money... Probably gives the nicest gifts for special people.. Probably likes dogs.. maybe cats too..

Hate..

2006-04-03T17:14:00.000+05:30

I am convinced that she hates me.. Its not news.. Or is it? If its something that I was always aware of, then there's no reason for me to feel so bad about it.. All I want to do is escape it.. I don't need to lash out at her.. She's not someone I know or have done anything to intentionally.. And yet she hates me and I felt it today.. and I want to escape it.. escape her hatred.. or defend myself and hate her right back.. But that wouldn't hurt her.. She wouldn't care.. So why should I? I cannot sit here and feel all that she is knowingly or unknowingly making me feel.. I have to escape it.. But there is no getting about her.. The only way to escape her is to do without him and I can't do that..

Grumble Grumble...

2006-01-28T15:54:00.000+05:30

That day.. we were at Shivasamudra.. I forgot when.. But it wasn't very long back.. The ride was terrible.. the roads barely defined and the hours it took to get there took its toll on bladders and backs.... And if not for this one boat ride (in the picture) I would've killed everyone who convinced and dragged me along on the trip.. We got into these little round boats and got around twenty minutes of screaming, laughing, getting drenched under a waterfall, watching the world spin from a round boat and five seconds of dazedly watching a Canon digi cam fall into knee deep water...

And today.. I'm in the office... %$#&%!!

Something..

2005-12-30T15:53:00.000+05:30

Team lunches from the office had always been boring. But surprisingly, she was enjoying this one. The new guy on their team was quite attractive upclose.
"What do you do on weekends?" he'd asked.
"Oh, I laze around at home and catch up on my reading" she'd lied and smiled...
"Wow. Sounds wonderful. I get dragged along on my wife's shopping sprees.."
"Oh .. you're married?"
"Yes.. We met in college.. both big time Jack Nicholson fans.. She was the only girl I knew who'd seen all his movies."
She smiled again and realized she was thinking too many things somewhere in her mind to reply.
Somebody else at the table asked him something.. As he turned to answer, she racked her brain for something to ask him, to get their conversation going again.....

She got off work early that day and headed to the video store."I need all the Jack Nicholson movies you've got" she heard herself say... and smiled somewhere in her mind.

Love..

2005-12-26T12:30:00.000+05:30

He was Inconsiderate. She was Unreasonable.

But they lived Happily Ever After.

I WANT..

2005-11-28T16:30:00.000+05:30

1. To get out of the office right now.
2. To listen to something I can holler along with.
3. To meet a friend and walk around (someplace thats not a mall) when its windy.
4. Time to take photos when there's sunlight.
5. To have the guts to drive my scooter in Bangalore traffic.
6. To be single.
7. To be able to put two dots at the end of sentences and not have it called 'girlie'.
8. To have Lime soda with salt and sugar.
9. To sleep on anything that is not a mattress on a cold floor.
10. To watch a movie on my comp, sitting on the floor, leaning on the knees of whoever's behind me, in my hostel room in college, with the lights switched off and 13 pairs of chappals outside the door.
11. N and G to get married.
12. To eat green apples and lie on a couch reading.
13. Forever... now.
14. To talk to somebody who's actually heard (and liked ?) 'You were meant for me' by Jewel.
15. To read something I enjoy and yet have it count in the list of 'must-reads'.
16. To go home and taste my mom's chicken curry and appam.

Thats her...

2005-11-24T18:11:00.000+05:30

I-gon..

2005-11-24T18:00:00.000+05:30

Her name, they told me, was I-gon... She was a month old. All I could see was a brown furry bundle in a shoe box. Someone had torn out her eye and thrown her in a gunny bag on the road. She'd been picked up and taken to Krupa Animal Care.
I'd never held a puppy before and been scared of dogs forever...didn't even know why I'd volunteered for the Pet Adoption camp... didn't know anything about pets or adoption.. Being a whiner, I've always whined about not finding any 'meaning' in work and what I'm doing and all. So a volunteer programme sounded like the best way to test the waters for 'meaning' in doing something. I guess I was hoping to find something that would make sense to me, but honestly I had no clue what I'd do there or how I'd make myself useful.
She was the first puppy they brought out. I watched as some of the volunteers held and handled the pups like they'd been doing it all their lives.. I leaned over and watched with my hands tied behind my back (the perfect volunteer) as they put them in little baskets, tucked rugs around them, fed them and tied ribbons around their necks. I-gon, they told me wasn't running around coz she was dizzy and tired from the surgery and the medicines. Stroking a sleepy, tired, dizzy puppy didn't seem too dangerous a task and I decided I was up for it.. She was all curled up with her tiny tail brought around her to cover her nose...
Eventually people started coming in to look at the pups.. Somehow I-gon was returned pretty quick back to the hands that held her out and they'd move on to look at the other puppies.. Somebody handed her to me and seconds later she was sleeping in my lap and didn't seem to mind that nobody wanted to take her home coz she wasn't perfect enough... And thats when the picture started forming in my mind.. Sitting at home with a sleeping pup curled in my lap..
I called up my roomies and begged them to come take a look at her.. and then pushed my luck and wondered if WE could take her home.. Prompt refusals and reminders of my general carelessness and the impracticality of the whole idea were drilled into me in a matter of seconds.. Moped around the whole day coz I couldn't have her and nobody would take her home .. actually mostly because I couldn't have her.. All my promises to be a changed responsible adult fell on deaf ears.. They'd known me too long to believe I wouldn't get bored of something in a week...
Its amazing how an idea can get into your head and root itself there and then no matter how many times people tell you its not practical and that its not going to happen.. you still keep wanting it.. And I wanted it.. I wanted to take her home and I wanted it to not matter that nobody else wanted her coz of her eye... Stupid shallow dumb blind people... Nobody took her and the Camp was over.. Some of the pups had been adopted and the ones that were not were put back into the van to be taken back to the shelter..
Sometimes its really difficult to remember you're too grown up to cry over a puppy. And I don't care if that sounds silly or brainless or girlie or immature.. I don't care.. And now that I think about it, somebody told me a while back that if you want something badly enough, the whole world conspires to get it for you.. It was supposedly from 'The Alchemist' (which I haven't read) ..I guess I must have wanted her badly enough for fate to hand her over to me to keep her till she got properly adopted. The people from Krupa didn't want to take her back to the shelter after all that she'd been through. I alternated between laughing and grinning and promising that I'd take good care of her and asking them how I should do that.. Bread, diluted milk, biscuits.. newspapers on the floor.. water.. it all seemed simple..
Warned my roomies, caught an auto in the rain with a basket in my hand and a puppy sleeping inside and felt like a very lucky special person who'd just been granted a wish from a genie .... Got home and spent hours cleaning up after she'd messed the floor for fear my roomies would throw the two of us out... She's the sleepiest pup I've ever seen.. she'd wake up every now and then.. and we'd play with her.. She looked like one of those brown and white toy dogs that run and jump and roll over .. She'd chase anything you dangled in front of her nose.. No barking.. no sounds.. just running after things and climbing into the nearest available lap and curling up and falling asleep in a second... Nobody wanted to call her 'I-gon' .. even if we didn't get to keep her for more than a week.. We decided we were going to change her name.. For now she was'Puppy', 'Chakkumani', 'Kingini', 'Da', 'Di','Tutu' and an assortment of several other little squeaky noices...
She slept in the hall in her basket with newspapers over the whole floor and I put my bed a little away from her.. prayed she wouldn't wake up and pee on me and fell asleep planning toilet training lessons for her and wondering at how amazing it was that she'd been hurt so badly and yet she trusted us to take care of her and protect her while she fell asleep in our laps.. The fastest I'd ever fallen in love...
She was taken back for a visit to the vet the next day and adopted the day after that. Hadn't thought it'd be so soon. I'd hoped for atleast a week to watch her play and grow healthy and get toilet trained and run around and come to me when I called her.. I promised myself I'd keep visiting her and watch her grow up and she'd recognize me and I'd do it after I came back from my hols.. But I couldn't... coz she'd died. They explained that she'd been sick. Had an intestinal infection. I guess she's not a big loss to anybody. Just a puppy.. A one eyed puppy even sounds like a joke. So does a 21 year old female crying over a one eyed puppy she'd seen for a day..
I guess there's something funny about it, when you tell somebody (some of the more macho of my good friends) the puppy's dead, that makes them burst out laughing and then quickly stifle it.. Its funny I guess that I'd gone totally nuts about her overnight and then she'd died.. I guess Its funny that I make such a big deal over something thats of no significance to anybody.. Maybe there's something here I'm not seeing... But they're right in a way .. I'm not mourning her forever.. She wasn't a person.. She's not a big loss..
There's a picture in my mind I can't forget.. I hope I never do.. The night that I'd slept next to the newspapers spread out in the hall with a basket in the corner, I'd woken up at night with something pawing on my face and I opened my eyes to a furry one eyed monster that was looking at me.. Even before I gained my senses and lifted myself up onto my elbow.. there was a brown furry ball curled up by my chest burrowing her nose under her tail waiting for me to pull the blanket around us.. I know it doesn't make sense to get mushy .. Its not a big loss.. Its no big deal.. Just a puppy.

Happening People in a Happening Place....

2005-11-15T12:05:00.000+05:30

Sunday morning .. ok Sunday just before noon.. three people push off their underwear washing for sometime later.. and walk out to have lunch from some cheap place.. Fort Cochin.. sounds like home.. maybe there'll be Fish Fry.. its been forever since Fish Fry and Cochin.... So the place is shut down.. no probs.. we'll walk till we find some other cheap place... After half an hour of searching for cheap places in the heat.. we settle for mediocre (expensive when you're broke) place.. Spend another half an hour choosing the most economical dishes from the menu card... But its hard to resist descriptions of rich creamy sauces and sauteed mushrooms and grilled in red wine and that sort of crap... ok.. successfully stretched lunch for two hours.. now what? standing outside the restaurant looking at each other and then at the road and trying to think of a place to go to.. Anywhere other than Forum (on a weekend? No way!).. after another half hour of contemplation and giving directions to happening people in happening cars who need to go to happening places but don't know how to get there (aaargh!).. we walk to the nearest baskin robbins... and sit there trying to lick the ice cream as slow as possible so they don't throw us out... coz they have the luxury of a TV there... Channel? Very Happening.. 'Zee Cinema'.. Movie??? 'Saajan Chale Sasural'... Do we ask them to change the channel? Not when we're through with our ice creams and risk being thrown out.. Ok.. so we'll just sit here and watch Govinda manage two wives.. What??? Ok.. No probs... we can do this.. Ok.. one of us can't.. She's staring at us like we're nuts.. watching a Govinda movie at Baskin Robbins on a Sunday afternoon for lack of anything better to do... But looking at her is making me sleepy.. I look at the other one.. Oh, he doesn't care.. He's absorbed in Karishma calling up Tabu over the phone and saying, 'Divya behen.. Mujhe lagta hai Aapka pati Mera pati hai'!!! WHAAA???? Interesting.. Poor Karishma behen looks .. distraught? Not really.. I guess its not too much trauma to suspect you've got the same husband as 'Divya behen' .. So Tabu invites Karishma and her husband Govinda over to lunch (for which Tabu's Govinda hasn't turned up) and tells her that she'd dropped a candle on her husbands thigh the previous night so if they've got the same husband.. they've got to have the same thigh!!! Dont' ask me how but Karishma doesn't find the same thigh... (she drags him into a bedroom at somebody's house and takes off his pants).. Govinda leaves and returns in very very Govinda clothes as Tabu's guy.. strips.. shows a burnt thigh to everybody but Karishma who's finally covered her (perpetually wide open blue) eyes in typical Indian woman fashion and by then the two of us enjoying the movie are dragged out by the one who isn't.. Fine!!! where to? Shopping.. The girls agree.. the guy groans.. We pull him into the auto and put him in a corner of Fab India looking through magazines.. Two hours and we're done.. Once again.. no plan.. we're sitting there wondering where to head next.. Its felt like that all day.. the only time we've been smiling was probably inside an auto coz we're headed somewhere or moving without effort.. Ugh! Ok.. Lets go see a movie.. Which one? The only English one left to watch is probably 'Things to do before you're 30'.. Fine.. where's it playing? Closest place is PVR.. (gulp) Forum? Hmmmm.. Ok.. Whatever .. its for a movie.. not to 'Hang Out' and be part of the weekends-at-Forum gang. We're in an auto again!.. Yipppeeee.... 'Things to do before you're 30': sold out!! UGH!! Who on earth would want to watch THAT? What next? Back to alternating between moping around bored and looking at people walking by bored and looking at each other bored.. Now we're not even asking questions? Its all understood.. The question in a Raised eyebrow.. The answer in a shrug.. the consensus in a sigh.. Do we give up? Its almost evening.. The same movie is running at INOX.. All the way there for THAT movie?? Ok.. we've got nothing better to do.. In an auto again!!! And seriously by now we're all really happy in the auto.. talking and laughing about how its defenitely going to be Sold out at the INOX and sure enough after half an hour's traffic jam, haggling with the auto driver and going up all the escalators ... its sold out.. and no.. there are no other funny english movies.. Hmm.. REX? Ok.. We all know there's a Hindi movie playing there.. but we've come this far.. lets walk.. atleast we'll reach Brigade.. and then we can be part of the crowd that does weekends-at-Brigade.. :) Paani puri in front of Rex.. and then.. we're weekends-at-Barista... Are we going to order? Not yet.. No money... So lets just sit.. and.. ummm... talk? Thank God for glossy newspapers.. Three of us reading three copies of the same paper.. All these pictures of people wearing skimpy glittery clothes with coloured hair and glasses of something posing for pictures.. And there's all these comments about how what they're wearing went out of fashion two minutes back.. and WHAAA??? WHo cares? People who have nothing to do on a Sunday I guess.. Atleast we have something to talk about now... Its getting late.. we should probably get home coz there's not much money left to pay for the autos if they start charging double... But.. ummm.. we can't possibly leave without ordering anything.. we've been sitting there reading the paper for hours.... So we order.. Pay through our teeth.. and count out coins to make sure there's enough to get back home.. Walk to an ATM? Not today.. And by the time we're in the auto again... we're smiling.. Dont' ask me why.. Its been a nice day...

Books? Ummm.. Lets see..

2005-11-10T11:26:00.000+05:30

Wanted to get a book for a friend yesterday. The problem with not being very well read is that you feel absolutely lost when you enter a bookstore.. The people walking in and out looked so sure about what they were looking for and what they'd bought. How do they know they're going to like it unless they've read it? What if you've bought a book.. take it home and got bored to death after the first few pages? What then? So whats the solution? Buying books that you've already read and liked? Anyways I guess it probably helps to read reviews and know the authors and the awards and accolades and all.. But when you don't do any of those, and you're trying to get a book for someone who probably does all that, then you're lost... as I was.. and had to ruin the 'gift' by calling him up and asking him what he wanted.. I got the regular load of 'No.. forget it.. don't want anything.. don't celebrate birthdays' dialogue but finally got him to admit he liked humour and something contemporary.. which didn't really help much.. and finally heard him say the word 'Booker Prize'.. Ah! that should make it simple.. So I asked him which of the Booker Prize books he'd read and went back to looking around the store for a 'Booker Prize' section.. which there wasn't.. and abandoned the idea to go and ask someone .. (that would blow my 'intellectual-on-comfortable-territory' look).. and decided to locate 'The God of Small Things'.. (the only Booker Prize winner I've ever read).. and there it was on the cover.. 'Winner of the Booker Prize'.. Ok.. so that made it simpler.. All I had to do was look through all the books and they'd have it written on the cover that they'd won something.. another hour of feeling like an idiot goes by.... and finally I called up a quizzer friend and asked him to name a bunch of Booker Prize winners.. (Thank God for quizzer friends).. and out came a long list from God knows when... and finally he suggested 'The Moor's Last Sigh'... Sulman Rushdie.. and I found the book! I did turn around to make sure it'd won the Booker and then confirmed the word 'funny' was there on the review.. and paid up and felt like I'd just worked through some complicated algebraic sum or something.. And then for the slightest second.. I wondered if I should do something about this.. If I should pick up a good book with a good review and start reading.. to catch up on all the reading the well read of the world my age would have read by now.. But I've never been able to read the 'must-reads'.. I don't know why.. I've tried.. A friend of mine sent me the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.. I tried reading it.. It was funny I guess.. but I kept falling asleep.. (distasteful.. I know).. couldn't help it.. All the rave reviews and the zillions of people who'd read it didn't make a difference.. It can't be psychological.. maybe it is..

For as long as I can remember, whenever I've been asked about a hobby, the first thing that comes to me is 'reading'.. but I stopped saying that a long time back..
I don't remember when this was, but I think somewhere in first grade, I remember looking forward to the 'Library' period... all the kids queing up in a line according to height and being led by the teacher to the library.. What did I read there? 'Noddy!!'.. They had a lot of those and some of the pages had pictures.. I used to think the author was 'Gnid Blyton' coz of the unfamiliar way 'E' was printed... I can't remember a thing about it now except that I did read them all ... And so when we learnt the word 'hobby', mine was reading.. As school life progressed, I decided to ditch Hardy Boys and Secret Seven because everybody was reading them.. We then had a new rule about being allowed to issue only classics from the library.. I started and finished with Jane Eyre.. Took me two weeks.. liked it a lot and quit going to the library. And then there was a Danielle Steele now and then.. a Sydney Sheldon that classmates passed around.. and then finally somebody gave me a Historical Romance.. (yes.. now is when you roll your eyes).. Chivalry, castles, battles, dukes, earls, lords, knights.. totally swept away an entire class of girls who were by then the 'Science' girls ..We were the 'Science' stream.. the girls with good grades on their way to pursue Engineering or Medicine .. the girls who looked down their noses at the 'Commerce' girls who were by then experts on what exact shade of eyeshadow went with what exact shade of blue contact lenses.. what was in and what was out.. and had no qualms about walking through the forbidden Boys' section of our school.. So while the Commerce girls went out and had a gala time with the guys, we sat and read Historical romances.. And NO! A historical romance is not just an ordinary romance.. There's all the chivalry and the castles and the battles and the titled heroes and the balls and the ballgowns and fluttering fans.. It was basically the same thing all the time.. Handsome titled hero is betrothed to wild unruly female with gorgeous bod who can't stand the guy or the norms of society (then).. They meet.. hate each other and then are over come by the usual hot desire, ecstasy, wild passion.. blah blah.. and happily ever after.. And that was the end of my 'reading'.. By the time I came to college, people were reading and discussing authors I'd never heard of.. and then staring at me open mouthed when I asked them about the 'must-reads'.. I couldn't possibly catch up on all the reading they'd been doing by then.. so I gave up.. I quit reading all together.. and now.. I can't even pick a book for a friend..
Resolution time???

My Surprise...

2005-11-09T10:11:00.000+05:30

A perfectly normal dull day.. Hadn't bothered to shampoo my hair ( a usual attempt to create an illusion of volume).. Had a perfectly boring day at work.. Major fight with G over her mood swings.. made up.. treated myself to two glasses of 'Butter' fruit juice.. which is what they call Avocado in all the juice shops here... High point of the day I guess would have been when lady drinking nice Watermelon juice next to me started staring at the green gook in my glass and looked ready to puke.... M called and asked us to have dinner with him.. So there we were, looking around for the most economical thing to eat at Transit... but they don't let people eat left overs from previous diners' tables... (i think).. And all of a sudden my eyes are covered by two hands.. First thing through my mind.. perfume-- its a girl?.. then the hands lead to two hairy arms--girl who doesn't wax?... very thick hands tilted upward-- fat, tall girl who doesn't wax? Ever noticed how when you're blinded and trying to go through a list of all your fat tall girlfriends who don't wax, you give up real easy? So I did.. Turned around.. and there he was.. a familiar face that I almost didn't recognize because he was something I'd given up hope of ever seeing anytime in the future thanks to his busy schedules and lack of holidays and the 20 hours of travel it would take for him to put his hands around me and have me screaming and jumping and being dragged out of Transit by friends who were trying desperately to pretend they didn't know me.. I've always been a whiner.. and it almost depresses me that I can't whine about not getting any surprises.. I think surprises are the nicest things...The perfect gift.. You can't keep it on a shelf, put it between the pages of a book or frame it.. But you can put it in your head and think about it and smile wistfully everytime you're having an ordinary dull normal day...

So Unsure...

2005-11-08T15:53:00.000+05:30

I've been wanting to do this forever.. tempted by the little 'Get your own Blog' button..
Finally.. I'm here.. and now.. ummm.. what?
Wrote a complete post and deleted it coz it felt like rubbish..
I feel overwhelmed coz I have no idea what I'm doing here or why I'm doing this..
Impulse.. Curiosity.. probably a couple more factors which will make me sound like a complete idiot.... Getting all worked up about writing a blog..
The thing is.. ummm.. probably lack of confidence.. but then admitting that is probably unfashionable.. but then since 'fashionable' is there on my list of things-that-i'm-not, I guess its all ok.. And the lack of confidence .. that comes from reading too many impressive blogs and the gnawing feeling that this is sure to turn out not-so-impressive... Why? Because I put too many dots between my sentences.... because I'm rambling most of the time.. I have no abstract poetry, no awesome photos that I took myself, no great ideas to share, no beliefs to declare, no comments on IIPM, no amazing vocabulary to flourish my writing with.. Which brings me back to why I'm doing this.. besides the temptation of the 'Get your own Blog' button.. I don't know.
Used to wonder why people wrote blogs.. Why'd they write down their innermost thoughts and then put them up on the internet for random people to read and judge and comment on... But then there's always the comfort of anonymity.. (forced anonymity if the blog turns out like this)..
And then there's the fact that not many of my innermost thoughts are criminal in nature.. atleast not to a very dangerous level... (ignoring tendency for slight bits of evil..)... so I guess its all ok.. Anyways.. here goes..