The Work-Out Express!

The gymnasium can prove to be the epicentre of loads of action!
*And by that I do not mean just lifting weights or performing with the rod!* It is a full blown gossip monger’s paradise!

My gym is abuzz with some scandal or LOL moment always!
It’s like going every morning to your very own news weekly or daily!

There’s this late 30 something guy who comes there...I call him Mr. Blackie!
Dark as ash, with moustache...and somehow living in the conviction that the vest style uppers were made for just his kind of drop dead looks*yes, one can actually die after looking at him*
Pssssssst...my dear, those multi coloured vests are awful...wish I could tell you that...but to do that I would have to actually TALK to you...and I wish THAT never happens! A torture for the eyes is preferable to the torture to the entire system!

Of course the blessing there is, he is so dark n sweaty that the bunch of ugly gnawing patch of underarms’ hair get hidden in his skin colour*nope, I don’t stop my regime to look at that but the very things that you pray life does not show you, end up becoming the very things that surface before you, more than often-like lizards mating- ewwwwwwwwwww!*

And this obnoxious guy*he has sparkling white teeth, by the way* the other day was checking himself out in the huge mirrors put up on all the walls. Suddenly the music changed to a lively number and he broke out in a Mika-style head rotation along with springing jumps and actually continuing to do so for full one minute!!!!!!!!!
Had he done it for half a minute more, I would have for sure needed an ambulance for sudden and irreparable cardiac arrest! The jarring moves leave me in shudders even now and I dread the number being played again in the gym!

There’s another specimen! He’s Mr. Stud!
Lean, tall again mid 30’s*that’s the dangerous age bracket it seems* and some would call him handsome!
When he moves it feels as though his body is screaming, “Oh look at me! I am god’s gift to mankind!”
He wears the hosiery material shorts and t-shirt that cling to his physique worse than that white saree in the waterfall, on Mandakini’s body in the flick ‘Ram Tere Ganga Maile’! The scene here is equally obscene my friends, or perhaps that is his very aim! If you have it, flaunt it syndrome! And by now, every boy and girl, instructor and helper, receptionist and watchman in the gym knows he has it!
Thank god for small err big err...whatever mercies!

He would work out and then check out*himself and the handful of women around* and then raise his leg or protrude out his butt!
He’s almost Menkah in action, thinking we all lesser mortals are Vishwamitras!

Then there is another nerd...a Punjab Da Puttar*PDP* who insists on wearing Capri pants to work out!
Twice they have torn during leg lunges, yet not deterring him to alter his path...I think he likes the idea of his trouser slitting...
He believes in that tagline
“It is not right to always pull someone’s leg...
It is not right to always pull someone’s leg...
You should also spread them sometimes ;-)”
Does anyone here comes actually to work out*except me of course*?

And then there would be the aerobic sessions!
These are revelations in themselves!
If you happen to be standing in the third or fourth line, you are bound to be a victim of ‘Dhrishti-atyachaar’-the screwing up of your vision!

People would bend forward in their teeny weenie t-shirts, giving you a full view of their lower inners peeking out unapologetically at the first hint of public glory!
And now my dearies...brand does matter!
They’d be a VIP or an Amul gazing in our faces...
They’d also be Jockey’s and Tommy Hilfiger’s!
And you’d be surprised to know how famous bright red and fluorescent yellows are with men here in Uttar Pradesh...or is it just another one of bizarre Kanpur traits or worse still...is it actually a men-all-over-the-world fetish?

Animal prints too, eh? Hmm...I discovered these at the gym...where else!
But sometimes I get confused...not in the exercise step silly, in the dilemma, if it was the same print tit bit worn yesterday, covering my predecessor’s butt, as of now!
And please would people stop wearing low waist undergarments...it can be so bloody disturbing in so bloody everything!



As for women...they are pretty much the same here as anywhere else!
There are items of these species with full make up on at 6.30 a.m.*yes, in the morning*
There are a couple who exercise for 15 minutes and make the male trainer press their bodies for the next 15 minutes in the name of stretches to relax! You should watch them close their eyes and smile with pleasure while in this act. I would give my right hand, right leg and right everything to know what they’d be thinking at that moment!

There is one who emerged out of a cubicle in the changing room recently and when I tried to venture in, much to my surprise a full bloodied man somehow squeezed his way out too from the same 6 feet by 6 feet box!
Something inside me warned not to rush out screaming “Magic, magic...8th wonder just happened in there!”
I soon found out that both are happily married...to separate spouses of course!

There is another lady who one day rushed into the changing room with tears in her eyes. Out of concern, I followed her*yes, only concern...my gossipy antennas were resting in peace...at least till then!*
She was screaming to someone over the mobile phone...
“What do you think of yourself? You would give that bitch more attention than me? You think I don’t understand these games? How dare you touch her waist?”

I sneaked out thinking I can’t help in this...only to bump into the new six-packs instructor in the corridor explaining over his mobile, “I am so sorry...I will not touch any female again...I promise...come out baby...I’d touch you and heal my mistake!”
OHH MYYY GOOOOOD GODDD!

Then there is an enthusiast with holes in track pants that are begging termination of their lives, but the hostess holds on to them as though her own dear life depended on it!
There are some who come with hair neatly tied in a plat the first day, but seeing the heat quotient soon come with their zulfein laharaaoing in the ceiling fans!
Some ooze of the most expensive perfumes, others make you pray that you could keep your nose at home and come there for training!

There are some who wipe their sweat in slow motion format of movies and others who drench their chiselled countenances with cold water in full public view!

There are those who lift the 1 kg dumb bells as though they are obliging it and some again who would increase the kgs going by the number of onlookers admiring it*no matter if they can barely walk out on their own legs after that*

You can spot the best of cat walks on the tread mill and the craziest of moans and screams coming from the weight section! Since there are just men in that domain, we do not rush to aid or speculate!
There are many who letch and many who are being letched at, both categories feeling their paisa was vasool-ed!

It’s a fun world of work out...you just need to work out the way to fun!

And now in writing this, another significant revelation has dawned upon me...I now know why I am bloody not losing any weight! :(

How safe are Internet Friendships?

It’s a fragile world out there...
And even more fragile is our reputation and lives!

This morning a piece of news in the paper quite got me into my thinking mode:
Two girls, aged 18 and 19, belonging to the small town of Mughal Sarai, travelled all the way alone by train, to reach Greater Noida at 6 p.m.
*That’s not the news, by the way!*

They told their parents they had to give a scholarship exam in Delhi!

The truth was they had befriended two boys...rather men over the internet, had several chats and phone conversations, following which they dared coming all the way to a big, unknown city, to meet and stay with their so-thought boyfriends over the weekend!

The two girls were gang raped repeatedly over the night...left physically and emotionally scarred for life!

They were raped not just by these two men in question, but also by two more of their drunken friends, all of whom were waiting for these girls to arrive and tear them apart!

Next morning, meaning to drop them at a bus stop to sneak the girls back home, the culprits were caught, when the victims raised an alarm, noticing a police van!

It made me wonder for a long, long time after reading this short piece:
How safe are net friendships?
Are Facebook, Orkut, Myspace and the whole other plethora of social networking sites, making indecent proposals easier?
Is love the convenient excuse now to get free and hassle-less sex?
Is everyone out here projecting what they really are, or how they want the world to view them?

In this case above...
Of course the boys are to be largely blamed for playing with the innocence and humility of young, dreamy eyed girls...
Misleading these little ones, just out of school, with mush talk and convince them they were their Prince Charming!

But then what about the girls? How much is this their fault?
I questioned and cross questioned my own notions and judgements:
They were just small town kids...easily fooled...love struck n wanting some adventure!

And then again...
18 is not a small age!
You can legally vote or get married at 18!
The constitution seems to think you are old enough to take your decisions but that newspaper seems to project, also stupid enough to not know what awaited you once you reached over to someone’s apartment to live with two random strangers!

And these girls cannot really be termed ignorant or stupid....for they managed to travel so far alone and also dupe their unsuspecting parents, didn’t they?

It’s a bad and dangerous world out there and one wrong step could get a vulnerable soul sinking into a bottomless pit!

People operating with false identities...
People sending all kind of sexed up addendums on these sites...
People indulging in mindless double meaning talk on their status or inboxes...
How much is really too much?
When should we be alarmed that someone’s crossing the line on the pretext of just having fun and when should we ignore thinking that’s the way the modern world works?

Is it very difficult to trust anyone who wants things/information to remain hidden about him.
No real name on the account!
Maybe even fake pictures!
Not ready to openly communicate!
Why?
When you don’t have the guts to show your real self to the world...stay hidden...we don’t really wanna see you either!
A few bad fish spoil the whole pond!

We jeopardise the chance of forging genuinely nice friendships because generally not so nice people use the medium for cheap thrills!
The gift of the gab hides their evil countenance and murkier intentions!



Personally speaking, I have met and made great friends for life through the internet!
Friends who make everyday happier n brighter by their mere but constant virtual presence!
But I also would like to quote here a not so good experience I had, with the hope that it might help someone somewhere get more cautious!

I added a girl-Shupriya on to my Facebook friend’s list after I interacted with her a couple of times on a common girl-friend’s status!
She seemed nice and sweet and very appreciative of me!
She often commented on my status and sometimes sent me random messages to come online and chat!
I avoided for a long time having no inclination or time for it...but then not to sound arrogant and pompous, I gave in after a while and we chatted a couple of times!

She had put up some 80 pictures of hers and said she lived in the States!
She wore tiny clothes and well displayed her assets!
She also liked to talk about them, her boyfriends and gradually asked me about my life with my husband and how I seemed to keep him so happy?

In all my dumb magnanimity and feeling poor-lost-helpless-girl, I told her a few random bits. She also more than unabashedly praised my looks and body!
I felt uncomfortable and avoided her thinking she was a lesbian!

She soon added more of my girlfriends onto her list! I always felt a twinge of unease about this but refrained from doing anything thinking I was probably over reacting and also that if I’d ignore, she’d remain normal.

Then one day, I got a message from one of my school friends that madam Shupriya was having pictures of some other girl on her account named Divya- a resident of Bangalore and known to her common friend.

My friend asked how I knew Shupriya, what all I know of her and what should we do now! I realized then that I knew nothing except what she told me!

Before the shock could register in, another message came from her, within seconds that the Facebook profile in the name of Shupriya Sirkaar had been deleted. Somehow Shupriya had got to know that her game was out n disappeared without a trace! After that all the other girls whom she had befriended on my list were suitably warned by me. Now they all came up with retorts like ‘yes, she was kinda weird and kinky’!
In all probability Shupriya Sirkar was a man!

She had easy access to our lives, pictures, friends and family and everything else that we put up on those social networking sites!

Such is the risk that we put ourselves to!
Such are the risks we must be aware of before jumping onto the bandwagon of creating more and more friendships with random strangers!

It is called the world wide web...and perhaps for a good reason!

~~Love 2050~~

Okay here I am...it is 2050 A.D....I am seventy two years old*hopefully young* and life...well, this is how one morning in my life then would be!

Me: Suno G, it is 8 a.m.! High time you got up!
G*moaning in short trebles*: What! You expect me to get UP at this age? And still with YOU? Old age is causing you to hallucinate my dear!
Me: Ya, ya for sure...as if you’d be able to get up on anything now even if we provided you with supporters! You should thank your lucky stars that I am still healthy enough to take all your weight and also WAIT for you to COME around!

G: Whoa...and what about me! No points for my sufferance when you decide to get on top of me and I almost hear your knees crack every time you even try to shake!
Me: At least you get to know that I am in some action! When I look at your face, I still have to decide if you are actually pouting for a kiss or plain simple trembling with over excitement about managing to get one!
G: Baby, to actually “look” you need to wear your spectacles na...otherwise you’d go again hugging the milk man and later pretend that you didn’t realize it wasn’t me!
Me: That’s enough! I think today I would put some of your sleeping pills in your breakfast so that I can rest and have less of this nonsense to hear!
G: The kind of breakfast you make now, even after five decades of doing so, is enough to put a person to rest in peace forever...it’s me who is a superman to have survived so far!

Me: Oh why did you get up, you obnoxious man...cooking up weird stories like a mentally disabled!
G: Don’t talk to me about stories you old hag! You know when we were just married...I had to tell you a story, to get you to bed...then after a few years, you began to tell me a story to take me to bed...
After 20 years, I began to tell a story to avoid taking you to bed and then some years later, I began to stay in bed to avoid your stories!
And you know what the situation now is?
Me: Go on blabber like a buffoon and blast me with another stupid theory!
G: Now if I take you to bed, that’s the end of a story...my story!

Me: Now look who’s talking...so much sex-sobbing from a man who got an average of 5 times a week for all his prolonged youth days!
G: Whoa...exaggeration queen...more like 5 times a month and that too after I had to put up with your ‘oh, I have a headache’ ‘oh I am so tired tonight’ ‘oh it’s too late/too early’...and eventually ‘oh I am obliging you now and don’t come near me for another week’!
Me: We should have shown you to a doctor for it is abnormal to demand so much sex!
G: We should have shown YOU to a doctor, for it is abnormal to demand so much abstinence!

Me: Oooo hellooooo...did it occur to you, that maybe you didn’t turn me on?
G: Ya baby, but did it occur to you that maybe we could plug an entire power-house into you and yet not be able to turn you on!
Me: You are so hot...not as in OMG hawwwt but OMG-so-hot-headed, all the bloody time that sometimes I feel, you only triggered the bloody global warming!
G: You are so frigid half the bloody time that sometimes I feel we survived the global warming ‘end of the world’ predictions because of you!

Me: Hmphf...Why is it always about sex with you?
G: Why is it always about no-sex with you?
Me: Look at that...your pyjamas are falling off...even they refuse to stick by your side!
G: Maybe they are hinting to you asking when you would fall off for good too.
Me: Ah...you wish! When I’ll be gone, you’d miss me to madness!
G: Yup I will...only in madness would I miss you. Who wants to be sane anyways!
Me: Who will then wipe off your face after the curry drips down your lips and your hands shake too much to hit the spot?
G: Don’t you worry...I would get some hot babe to lick it off!
Me: Na, na...don’t you even try to try that. At your age, over excitement could lead to a heart attack!
G: Better to die of overuse than underuse!

Me: Very funny! Remember to plug in your hearing aid while she’s doing it so that you can hear her calling you a ‘tharki buddha’...
G: I’ll do so...and would you please tell your wadding spirit, visiting us not to wear your dentures after that for a year...I would like to bask in peace finally!

Me: Lift your feet and walk would you? It’s just 10 steps to the bathroom and you’ve already taken 15 minutes to reach there!
G: I like it slow and steady! Not like you wanting to hurry up with just about everything! Like taking a bath in 5 minutes and emerging out making me wonder if you used any water at all!
Me: Acha, then why do you wriggle around my neck trying to sniff the fresh as a daisy smell I exuberate?
G: Baby that is to check if you stink still, ensuring that you did really bathe!

Me: Ha ha...you think you are still funny, you old man? And please once inside don’t go all confused again about which is the bucket and which is the toilet seat?
G: I won’t as long as you promise to stay not confused about which is the salt and which is the sugar, now that you are going to get my tea!

Me*knocking the bathroom door*: It’s been an hour inside...I hope the fast flow of the shower water has not bogged you down on the floor!
G: Nope...I have survived the flow of blows of your long tongue*though they weren’t the kinds that I wanted*...I am now game even for a Tsunami!
You know sometimes I think you want me to die just so you could flirt with that forty year old widower next door!
Me: Oh...you “think” too...must be an old age development...didn’t spot you doing that when you were young. Anyways, why should I want you to die for that? I could get him minus your sympathy votes! And how you have the nerve to tell me this after you bought a 1000 rupees worth of raffle tickets from that Kimi in short skirts and kept saying even long after she had gone “let me know if I can do anything else dear!” Bah!

G*emerging out*: That girl is very sweet...she says she would prefer a man with the integrity like mine as her life partner!
Me: She says that to all old dodos who oblige by opening up their pockets since they don’t get to open their zips!
G: You horrible woman! How dirty is your mind! And what’s with this dress that you are wearing? You know, you are little too old for red now. And OMG you’ve even painted your nails red! Ewwww...you should warn me before scaring me like that!
Me: But I thought you always liked red on me...always! Okay, I’ll go and change. *now spirits sunk completely and finally!*

G*breaking into a smile and extending into a big hug*: Awwwww...I still do! And I also thought you still like a chocolate cake with loads of red cherries on top*reveals a cake platter hidden underneath the bed*I got up at 7.30...half an hour before you, just to get it under the bed!

Happy Fiftieth Anniversary my love!
You are still my precious little baby and always would be!
Me*all teary eyed*: Look what you did to my eyes...now I can’t see even with my spectacles on! And what’s with these new blue jeans and white shirt that you are wearing! If I said you looked drop dead gorgeous in this when you were 25, do you think you’d still do even at 75?
Well...you know what...you still do...and that next door widower neighbour would burn in envy to see you holding my arm!



G: What say...we go for a walk or hit the bed again!
Me: What? Again? But we just did it last night!
G: We did? Baby I think you are now getting the Alzhiemer too...
Let me take you to bed and rectify some misconceptions for you!
Me: You still tell me stories babu to take me to bed! And I still hear and believe them like a three years old child! Let’s do it before the friends and family pour in!


And what are you doing here still dear readers...?
Oho...
You still want details...
How about the sound of a shaky bed...rattly rat...two flowers hitting each other...prut prut...and the light of the lamp getting dimmer n dimmer till darkness envelops it all!
Well we aren’t 30 anymore...so this should take sometime...hop around some other blogs for a while and check us out later again for how steamy it got!
Adios!

For you Dear Pimples...So that you feel flattered and Get Lost!

This is in dedication to pimples!
Yes you read it right-those fat, ugly outpourings through the skin which seem like over enthusiast nosey characters bursting out from confinement to seek what’s happening outside, for how dare we not include them in all the action! Those very thingies who are never welcome anywhere yet are touched most gently to ascertain if they are still there!
Those very bloody pimples!

And why am I bothering to dedicate my blog space to them?
Because they have bothered my skin space and encroached upon my once-upon-a-time-beautiful, flawless skin!
I am angry, vindictive, helpless and hence this outpour of my own!

In any case study, one must know the background before venturing into the present scenario...so let me trace my pimple history!

Cut to school:
One or two pimples every one or two months and mom getting frantic with all the home made recipes to experiment with on my face. So I’d be smelling of neem or cinnamon or sandalwood or multani mitti*no wonder I didn’t end up with a boyfriend then...the aromatic flavours caused by eventual intimacy with me, would have reminded anyone of the sweltering...as in hot n not hawwwwt environment of his mother’s kitchen*

Cut to college:
Tell my ears/body of a big club night or about gatherings where teenagers accumulate in large numbers to flirt or like hungry predators pick a possible prey for gobbling...and my subconscious mind would immediately get down to havoc!
Just before the big night would pop out one in the most strategic of places. You don’t believe me...let you have a pimple at the very end of your nose where the two nostrils conspire to meet and then I’ll ask you!

Cut to after marriage:
My marriage period went off uneventfully*that is to say without any skin outbursts so as to trap the unsuspecting poor soul...my beloved, into believing that I am actually flawless in more ways than one*

Maybe finally the gods up there decided to let me be!
Or maybe finally all that excessive ‘release of heat’ from within my insides cooled down the pimples into believing that yes, I have grown up now so just f@#$ off!

Thereby for nine years, I managed without them...all glowing and soft n touch me and I’d get dirty types...my beloved says I am like makkhan or butter, for his fingers would slide down on their own*of course now I realize it’s not just sliding DOWN to the cheeks, is what he meant*

Till last year more revelation came on this issue!
My dearly beloved and I were separated from each other for a period of one month due to unavoidable circumstances and soon popped out three of them in proof of the fact that I missed him!
I was getting more n more convinced now that sex...err...love and pimples are directly co-related!
Sex is like a mistress whose presence excites the husband=pimples, to stay in control...and the lack of it makes them all grrr-y and eruptive!
*Of course when he returned back from the travel, he had no pimples to give evidence of me being missed and that raised all my suspicious antennas while settling down the flare-up!*

Cut to now:
Three days before my ten years wedding celebrations...I was given the company of three pimples again, screwing up my Regular-Sex-Causes-No-Pimples theory! Anyways that is not meant for teenagers, so all you little ones...okay little ones by brain n not by size...kindly don’t experiment at home! These actions are performed by experts and can be highly dangerous if done without proper adult*that could be me* supervision!

So I panicked!
My party...my 80 odd guests...out of which 40 are full bloodied males, who have spent the last ten years admiring the glow of my skin!
This was not happening! Oh someone pinch me back to reality! *Okay okay...don’t get too excited by the pinching bit there!*

I uploaded a status on my face book account:
“Do or die situation just three days before the big day...outbreak of three monster pimples*two little peas and one big white ugly ball* Suggest disaster recovery programme ASAP”

And my well meaning friends and followers came up with some 45 comments on that one...
I was suggested everything from toothpaste application to ice packs, Clearasil to Saafi, neem water wash to coconut water flush, own spit applying to cucumber drying...
I got down to a little experimenting but the three refused to budge!
Like stubborn guests who nibble slowly on all that yours!

The D day arrived...and I survived...thanks to a ‘first time in ten years’ parlour visit that concealed with make-up, those obnoxious titbits*I still mean pimples, by the way*
I glowed again, eyes settled on my little dimples instead of pimples and I danced the night away in the intoxication of my triumph of still looking worth a head turn!

Cut to the next day of the D-day:
Three more came to give company to the first three ones*I fear it’s some kind of sex racket here...the three male pimples called upon three female ones and together they are f@#$ing (on) my face...and you wonder now...how do I know the gender differentiation...three were fat and reddish and standing erect while other three are curvier, whitish and dumpy...



So now the countdown had reached six...
The highest so far at a time!
My dearly beloved begged me to let him burst one. Now, I have always had the suspicion that he was some fierce violent African tribe chief in his previous birth, judging by his super excitement at the prospect of the appearance of a pimple on my face and he getting consent to burst them with his fingers.
Yup, you can even imagine him doing the jhinga-lala dance with a spear in his hand after I succumbed to his pleading in my own desperation*well, actually it was a rip off of my own yippee dance...but when done my me, it looks kinda sexy and when done by him...well, he got on to my nerves for a change, instead of on me!*

I dreaded watching myself in the mirror and sped up the antiseptic application...the day passed in silent sighs...
And the next day I slipped out of the bed hoping to see the subsided remains on my surface....
And voila!
They have bloody reproduced*Nothing can be done about the Indian mentality...even the damned Indian pimples can’t keep their libidos in check!*

Now there are FOUR MORE adorning my surface*one couple must have had twins*!

My dearly beloved is now teasing me to find one inch of skin space on my face to kiss and even suggests keeping a cloth over my face when we get into the act...you should hear him guffaw after such obnoxious suggestions and me doubt why am I tolerating this man from ten years!:-(

In conclusion, I would leave you with a note...nope it’s not a 1000 rupees note, so stop copying my yippee dance:
Dear Tumblers*thanks Cin for the term Intelligentsians for your blog...made me coin Tumblers for my own readers...and please tell your bua that she is no longer entitled to keep the tag of “Pimple Queen” for I have stolen it from right under her assumingly pretty nose*

So, Dear Tumblers*sexy tumblers at that*,
Please pray for me...it is said that mass prayers help in getting past any tragedy and this is a life threatening situation...
Warna mein kisse ko mooh dikhaane ke laayak nahi rahonge!
Boo hoo...
Yours faithfully,
Tumbled Over!

If I were...*tagged again!*

This tag is from dear Neeraj from Masalla Lemonade...you really got me in the “what if” mode, which is anyways my permanent abode...Thank you!

If I were a Bird, I'd be a Parrot...so that I don’t miss my yappings!

If I were a Colour, I'd be Red or Black, clinging to hot people’s bodies!

If I were a Leader, I'd be Bill Clinton...I’d finally know what all EXACTLY Monica Lewinsky did!

If I were a Musical Instrument, I’d be a Piano...for besides I love its sound...I’d actually still be throwing my weight around!

If I were a Time, I'd be 12 Midnight...suits my confused personality...na idhar ke a udhar ke! And also for it’s the time when the lights go out*wink, wink*!

If I were an Electronic, I’d be a Cellphone...kept in the best of places, pressed on my right buttons and always clutched firmly*as good as a human hug* and be close to some delicious lips*you better brush though regularly*!

If I were a Watch, I'd be an Omega...due to my super revengeful attitude... ‘If you can’t own one, be one!’

If I were a Car, I'd be a Limousine...at least I’d be witness to more action within that outside;-)!

If I were an Artist, I'd be Leonardo De Vinci*though cleaner, sexier version of him and definitely not gay...like Weirdo Guy told me recently much to me OMG*...I would at least be enlightened about WTF is Monalisa smiling about!

If I were a Voice, I'd be a Singer’s!

If I were an Emotion, I'd be Contentment...for everything else follows this little fella!

If I were a Facial Expression, I'd be a Grin...what’s a smile without some teeth peeking out! Also if I were a smile...I’d be a permanent fixture on your face! :-)

If I were a Water, I'd be so Shapeless*which I already am :-(* Okay...if I were water, I’d be of the River Ganges...so even if I am dirty, I don’t need to take a bath...yiyee...yiyee! *I can’t help remember here what you said Blunt Edges...If I were a liquid, I’d be wet...lolz...by those standards then I’d be wet and wild ;-)!*

If I were a Direction, I’d be South...for I am always going down! :-(

If I were an Investor, I'd put all my money on ‘My Tumbling Thoughts to the World’...it’s destined to rise to fame! *don’t look around all puzzled at WTF am I talking...for more details read the URL link above dim head*

If I were a Kind of Weather, I’d be Winter...the cosier the better!

If I were an Item of Clothing, I’d be Sexy Lingerie*okay, okay I know ALL lingerie are anyways sexy...otherwise they’d be called Undergarments*...I’d be satiny or lacy, reveal more than hide, pop out at the best of moments, handled with so much care or just ripped apart* I hate the middle path*

If I were a Subject, I'd be English...cause that’s the only one I know and most English teachers are sexy and less weird!*hint, hint...just look at me for example*

If I were a Flower, I'd be Rose*pata hain boring choice...but I didn’t know any of the exotic names so easy pick*...always available, symbolic, living among thorns, soft, fragrant, short life, bright and tender...oh so me!

If I were a Dessert, I’d be a Chocolate...so I can smell and lick myself and still not make you feel I am creepy!

If I were a Medicine, I’d be Brufen...for firstly it is round and pink*so that should make me feel homely* and also for since I’d be a pain killer, I’d be less of a pain for others*or so you’d think*!

If I were a Body Part, I’d be Fingers...you never know what possibilities they can reach!

If I were Food, I’d be Slithery like Maggie or some Noodles...I hate to be chomped and bitten into like other edible products...just slurp me down!

If I were an Emotion, I’d be Confusion or Passion...or err...Confused Passion!

If I were a Television Programme, I’d be ‘Sex and the City’...at least then I won’t have to force people to mouth that I am sex-y!

If I were a Word, I’d be 'Yes'!

If I were a Fragrance, I’d be Channel No.5...out of reach, most desired and alluring...would also perhaps get to know what’s all that fuss about it!

If I were a Sound, I’d be Awwww!

If I were a Life, I'd be Princess Diana’s...been there, done that...and looked like a million bucks while doing it!

If I were a Place, I’d be Goa...I sooooooooooooooo love it!

If I were an Actress, I’d be Marilyn Manroe...I always wanted to know how it feels to have your dress rise high, while standing over an air vent and shy coyly as though to say ‘OMG...I never realized this would happen!”...ya right...@#$%

If I were a State, I’d be Dreamy!

& finally

If I were a Missing Thing in world, I'd be My Life in School...Boo hoo...someone gimme back my teens...guys in their teens these days are so much hotter than they were 10 years ago*Life is unfair...unfair...UNFAIR!*

The Shackles of the 'Modern' Woman!

Despite all the calm that appears on the surface...there’s hardly a woman who does not have a storm hidden below!

I quote here some examples of myriad emotions and silent misery of the fairer sex, women whom I have been fortunate enough in knowing and who for me personify sometimes the strength of the Himalayas, the purity of the Ganges, the serenity of a silence and the fragility of the flowers on their way to being crushed! These are people who have confided in me with all the trust in their heart and I share this with you, in the hope that it helps someone out there in some way! Thank you The Bald Guy for your write up that motivated me to write something like this also...beyond the giggles and our colourful frames of perceptions!

These are real people and lives actually happening about in the world somewhere as we speak...names have been changed to respect their privacy!

Astha- The Nervous Wreck!
Astha is a 26 year old married woman living in a metropolitan town. She was a career woman till four years ago when she fell in love and within a few months of giddy romance gave up her everything to settle down with her fairy tale Prince Charming!

But harsh realities of living together every day, caused the bubble of romance to burst sooner than she expected. She was on her toes perpetually to keep her husband happy but mean-makes were discovered on every step of the way! Everything he liked about her became a distant memory as what all he disliked came to the fore! Her follies accentuated and glories diminished...a strong, independent woman lost all confidence in herself, to be able to even purchase an outfit without someone’s consent and approval! Although a full time mom to her only son, she was blamed for the concentration disorder perceived in the child at school! Today she is bullied not just by her spouse but also the child for he sees his father do so!

It is sad to see how her chirpy self in now relegated to the backdrop because she fears perpetually that she’d blurt out something inappropriate or laugh where she should not or stay quiet where she should burst with fake glee! So a passive and no-expression state is her expression now of all times.

The issue:
Low self esteem is as serious a malady in today’s time as any of the fatal diseases that you can come up with!
It not only sucks the life breath out of you but makes you a pathetic vegetable...you are living and around but not better than a backdrop that is barely noticed! A difference of five years between the couple gets her to be treated like a kid and reprimanded in that way too...which is certainly beyond the respectability demanded in a marriage!

My constant struggle with her:
I tell her to move out and mingle with people...watch what they are doing and wearing and then comparatively realize first if her taste is actually bad or has she been convinced of the same to be cut off from the mainstream and unable to flutter her wings and dare to fly away someday!

It’s not that her husband does not love her...it’s just that he considers her to be his acquired property and till she’d silently bear all he throws at her, she would go on to prove that he is right about her being an object!

I tell her to insist on her going back to work and she was doing fine till the marriage came along*although she used to then cling on to her cousin sister every time she wanted to run errands*

I see her all ready to shake up in fear by a mere loud sound, hesitant in voicing her opinion and calling up someone for every small decision to be taken and it breaks my heart! I fear she would never grow up like this!



Meghna- The Lost Wife!
Meghna too began as an independent woman*it’s scary at the rate such sufferings are borne by educated and independent women...I shudder to think how the lower classes must be accepting just about any torture*

Meghna also fell in love with a boy in her MBA class and decided to settle down soon! Her father being very affluent and suffering with cancer, she easily got the consent for it all!

But as always happens, after the wedding the realities began to draw in.
All material comforts or rather the lack of them that she was so eager to overlook before walking the aisle, suddenly became conspicuous by their absence. It was not that her husband’s side was poor...they just didn’t want to spend! The mother-in-law came up with stories that they didn’t have enough money for the furnishings knowing full well that Meghna’s father had left her a hefty amount, enough to sail her through life. He had provided three flats in her name in different posh localities of her erstwhile home New Delhi and also many LIC policies that matured at regular intervals to ensure her sufficient liquidity for many years to come!

Meghna began to spend her own money on the renovations and soon the eyes that squinted at the prospect of a possible cash flow became enlarged like ostrich’s eggs viewing the wealth-well that had suddenly sprung open at their disposal. The subsequent deliveries of her two children, her own personal expenses, managing the kitchen budget and the like soon came to her own head and the mother-in-law even asked for “loans” from her!

She would have borne that too had the husband not turned cold all of a sudden after the father’s death, realizing she had no family now to turn to in case she would decide she had had enough here! Also accidently discovered was a monthly recurring deposit of a lofty sum being credited to the sister-in-law’s name, when pocket money to her was refused, on the pretext of deficits!

The issue:
Often being gullible fools, women fail to understand the motives of prospective love proposals. They are so eager to become one with the new fabric of their married life that they barely realize how completely their identities and belongings are being merged too! They are ready to give up the jewellery they brought with them and succumb to off-hand remarks about requirements of new electronics, etc in the house, made in all awareness and deliberation so that it would be well conveyed to the parents and suitably presented on the next festive occasion!

My struggle with her:
I often tell her to let things be as they are! If the monthly ration has not come...don’t get it yourself! When there would be no food...they’d have to arrange for it! But she becomes helpless as her two children’s demands are at stake! She works at the family’s office too and demanded no pay till we friends insisted upon her to do so. She continues to stay underpaid now, as an MBA hired from outside, would have to be given thrice the same amount!

All the property that she had got renovated to an absolutely changed house now, is in the mother-in-law’s name, who is a widow. She has been refusing to transfer the house even in her son’s name, citing the fear that she’d be ignored if that happened! After repeated discussions I have got her around to insist the house being transferred to the grandchildren’s name to avoid the bias towards the sister-in-law. She has now stopped using the joint bank account with her husband, for funds were deposited there by her but withdrawn by her husband, sometimes even without her knowledge!

She uses a separate account, has all her policies edited to make her sons the nominees and not her husband, has refused to get the kitchen and households items and takes her sons out for lunch when there is nothing at home to cook with! She makes a list of all items that she spends on and hands it over to the husband to meet the household expenses. Yet she is often emotionally blackmailed and still exploited of her own money often without any reasonable security!




Sugandha-the mother-in-waiting!
Sugandha is a college lecturer, a topper in all fields and a go getter that her college boasts of as an indelible asset! She has also been married from seven years into one of the most illustrious families of her town! And out of these seven, she has spent six in trying to produce a baby! Her in-laws are educated and civilised in every sense of the word and there is a grandchild already from the elder brother-in-law!

Sugandha has been taken to pundits, tantriks, palmists, horoscope makers, astrologists and even babas who ward off evil shadows. She has eaten balls made of cow dung on the pretext of that being a Prasad, brushed with the holy broom based on the argument that there is an evil spirit within her stopping her from the conception! She has bent her forehead at the feet of any holy man whose name is mentioned before the mother-in-law. She’s been to a gurudwara in Amritsar, a temple in Meerut, a dargah in Rajasthan and many other places where well-wishers deemed that she’d be blessed with a baby!

Not just that she has been poked by at least two dozen doctors all over the nation, been on severe and strong injections leading to complete hormone turmoil within her and removing any little faith that she had in the god!

She shudders at the idea of going even to the temple because she’d be singled out there again and asked before a hundred prying eyes to be given special blessings as though she was cursed! She puts her career at hold each time she undergoes a monthly treatment and stays on bed rest till bad news breaks again and is yet blamed for not making child rearing her priority.

The issue:
Bearing a child is considered as the next logical step in Indian marriages and the inability to do so is deemed as a curse. Even if you are happy in a particular set up, the society makes it a point to emphasize this to you that you are incomplete. Although meant in good terms but even random strangers stay travelling in the train with you or chit chatting in the gym may end up advising you on what to do or not to have baby and leave you with the card of another doctor, who is known for sure shot success. As a result, Sugandha may appear to be moving on face value...but she is rotting inside being in stagnant water of indifferent thought and unable to walk away!

My struggle with her:
I have time and again told her that having children is a part of life and not the end of life! It is a silly argument to give that whom should I earn or save for?
Why not do that for yourself? How many parents are there in this world, whose children go abroad and settle and never turn back to find out about the parents except send a cheque each month!
Create your own cheques for your old age!

Do we want children for our selfish needs of later life?
Can’t two people be happy just with each other? Her husband is supportive of the misery and stands by her in times of tears...but he too feels helpless before his overpowering urge to have successors to carry forward his name! She wants to stop the circus going around her but feels pressurised by the expectations of those that qualify under 'near n dear ones'! I also tell her for adoption but the urge to have a baby has slowly died within her!

Issues like these may not make headlines, yet they make a woman silently suffer and crush within.
Have we really moved forward?
Education is said to be the key...but then it does not work on all kinds of locks, does it?
The most rational step is to put your foot down and say "NO"!
But then sometimes the invisible shackles of emotions become stronger than the physical, visible will to break free of them!

I read this in the newspaper the other day by motivational speaker Deepak Chopra and it made so much sense, that I wanted to share it:
-Confront the following beliefs that turn women into victims:
-I am less than a man
-Without a man I am nothing on my own
-Suffering in silence is something that a woman is born to do
-It’s saintly for me to be miserable so that someone else can be happy
-Life is unfair...all I can do is put up with my misfortunes!

You were not put here to be a saint, martyr or a victim!
You were put here to claim your life as your own and to pursue your own vision of fulfilment!

Playing Stupid Cupid!

Ask me if I remember any mythological character and watch me with your stupefied expressions quoting ‘Cupid’!
Tell me then ‘Stupid...Cupid’s not mythological!’
Tell you back then ‘But why not? He does a better job of creating histories as well as futures!’

Point made, I guess!

I have always been fascinated by Cupid...a little fella with stout calf muscles, pretty ‘to the point of gay’ wings, curly girly hair, that famous bow and arrow and let me not even start about his bare top half, for that is irrelevant to the discussion! *I am trying to be holy and pure here and you are not helping me by giving me that look!*

I hope to God, that’s the description of Cupid actually because I have a mind-blasting tendency of getting mixed up with characters...like I keep forgetting the distinction between Newton, Einstein n Galileo! *Wtf, at the end of the day...Aren’t they all just scientists? Why do we humans create such barriers?*

Okay...back to Cupid! I was introduced to him in some Shakespearean play in Standard 8th *now that was him only, wasn’t he?*and when we learnt that he could make someone fall in love with anyone just by hitting him with his arrow...don’t even ask how that impressed the little, hormones-induced, just bloomed minds of us giggly girls!

You could hear so many hot sighs from our classroom that it was enough to cause a mini global warming of sorts!
Thankfully we realized soon that buying all those flimsy teer-kamaans from Ramayana fairs or wishful thinking do not lead to procurement of targets*seduction does!*

As for me...after longing for a while to get arrows pierced into the butts of cute victims that I had shortlisted...I gave up on my ardent prayers to Cupid dearie.
My new mantra became:
“Not everybody gets love in life...some have to settle for sex instead!”
*Just kidding...please don’t faint with a cultural shock...Breathe...breathe...ask someone to give you mouth to mouth respiration...I would have done it myself to save your life...but then even BSNL can’t make THIS distance shorter!*

So where was I? Yup, mush and its rush, once they enter your blood stream, they do not leave easily! I became a hopeless romantic for life and began seeing beating hearts in de-shaped tomatoes, love arrows in knitting needles, hugs in XOXO remarks of teachers on my maths answer sheets and self-convinced latent, “loUve” agendas in every innocent or even lust induced glare. This sprint of blood, pressing against the walls of my insides became so pleasurable that it eventually culminated into an urge to perpetuate it, which was only possible by becoming Cupid himself/herself!
My super dumb attitude at work all over again ‘If you can’t own one...be one!’

I was evolving and evolving how? By becoming the self proclaimed Love Guru and Agony Sister*I was just 14 then...call me aunt at that stage and watch me take you to court! By the way call me aunt at any bloody stage and watch me court ;-)*

So, I was spending half my energies*please don’t ask me what I did with the other half...a teenager has a life after all* in advising love struck buffoons on what to do and what not to do and tell me how they do it so anyone else who wants to do it, knows what to do and do it well!
Yup, that simple!

And that tendency has kinda stuck on!
Whenever I see someone desirable, adorable, delicious...my first urge is..............never mind what my first urge is!
My second urge is to get him hooked: “Mera bhala nahi ho raha to kisse ka to ho!” And thus my magnanimous and big heart sacrifices self interest to do good for humanity!
Phew! And that too without any bloody Nobel Prize recognition for my noble intentions and articulations!
I know...I know what you are thinking....Ah! She’s Mother Teresa of Kalyug!*ya, right, almost...and I so feel the pressure sometimes!*

I begin to push and shove!
Hey Bhagwan!
I mean almost instinctively, I begin to motivate all singles to mingle!
Tempt them, lure them and beckon them to the ‘Garden of Eden’!
*sadist could be...Why should just ‘the half of the committed population of the world’ suffer alone?*

No, seriously!
Why do I do that?
And sometimes I even and almost rotate the lust rear view mirror into a love front view one! *Do I need to mention every time ‘no puns intended’? By now, you guys have become smart enough!*

I make people believe in love that makes Cinderella dance without her slippers or Sleeping Beauty get herself kissed into consciousness of a dream world within the realms of reality!*hey, why aren’t there any fairy tales with guys as central characters...I’m racking my puny brains but can’t seem to remember any dude in distress relieved in a fairy tale-ish way! Damn you male macho-ism!*

I love seeing people in love...young blooming romance...makes you so wanna trade places with them!
Makes you believe that someday a knight in shining armour (like a dear blogger friend likes to say for modernity’s sake- a knight in faded denims) would come and make you see stars even in broad daylight!
*Otherwise all the stars that we see now are those that are drawn over caricatures in cartoon strips, when one has bumped into a pacing truck!*

I love the idea of being in love!
I seem to feel that it makes people happier and hence snappier!
It provides a sense of belonging and a sense of possession!
Being in love makes you dream and smile...both states that look good on just about any individual!



So I spread the good word!
1. Notice it harder if someone gets a glint in her eyes upon watching you!
No she is not Lady Dracula...that’s love interest shining silly! Don’t laugh off any attention that you are getting! Women are better at secrecy initially in a relationship than James Bond! It’s always better to find out than keep guessing!

2. Initiate conversation! Its bloody first come first served basis everywhere! So if you don’t decide to come fast here...you’d be coming alone for a long, long time!

3. Compliment generously! Nothing makes her smile more than knowing what her smile does to you! Keep telling her between suitable breaks how awesome she is! Trust me no woman has died due to overdose of being praised, but even the mightiest have almost always fallen to sophisticated wooing!

4. Speak, look, act to impress! Look neat, talk smooth, have words/phrases she dotes on, show that you need love*we love to protect even more than the NYPD*Look in her eyes, open your heart to her*not the shirt baba*, laugh wholeheartedly, listen and tell!

5. Act chivalrous, decent and sometimes pun-ny! We love you for treating us like a lady, we love to have doors opened, chairs pulled for us to be seated and men footing the bill. We love men who make us laugh! We like a guy who admires a beautiful woman pass by and not one who has his tongue licking his shoes because it’s popping so deep!

6. Tell that special someone how you feel...even if there’s a rejection...the friendship continues after you can laugh it off casually! You spend hours together then or courting someone else instead of hours wasted in just thinking about possibilities!

What the heck!
Everyone must fall for that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love at least 4-5 times!

I've been Tagged*Nope, I am not on Sale!*

Phew! I never understood the tagging business...though I do realize that it is supposed to be something pious and followed very religiously or else you’d be burning in hell*that’s how you people make it sound*.
So here I have been tagged thrice and gradually would try to rise to the occasion despite my pitfalls!

Kindly bare/bear...whatever!

This tag is from Sakshi and The Bald Guy *double conspiracy*.Thanks people for feeling I could do a good job at this...if by ‘good job’ you thought I’d be more guilty than you...you are damn right...guilty as charged!

Your Rules:
RULE 1- You can only say Guilty or Innocent*...aa...err...mm...WTF!*
RULE 2- You are not allowed to explain anything unless someone messages you and asks!*hint, hint...message, message and ask, ask!*
RULE 3- Copy and paste this into your notes, delete my answers, type in your answers and tag up friends to answer this*people please tag yourselves, I find this kinda difficult...yes, even for someone like me!*

My rules:
I am sorry, take me to court but answering in monosyllables is just NOT humanly possible in my case...I am just not made that way. I shall explode for lack of eruptions of words vying within to get out...but I promise I would try to be as much in brief (briefs nahi brief) as possible. Anyways mentioning thought bubbles in asterix do not qualify as “saying”...they are just reactions n not explanations...and the rest is your destiny my friend!

• Asked someone to marry you? Guilty*Sigh! Sigh!*
• Ever kissed someone of the same sex? Guilty*OMG, OMG!*
• Danced on a table in a bar? Innocent*always think of the poor table n give up*
• Ever told a lie? Guilty*remember what Krishan ji said in Geeta or was it in Mahabharat?*
• Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have back? Guilty*hmm...all the bloody time. Why can’t I “have” all that I want...or at least some of the ALL!*
• Kissed a picture? Guilty*sometimes even my own during those bouts of ‘nobody loves me’*
• Slept in until 5 PM? Innocent*how can one miss out the action for so long?*
• Fallen asleep at work/school? Guilty*ask my students ;-)*
• Acting like Cupid? Guilty*if I can’t have them...well at least let someone else have fun!*
• Been suspended from school? Innocent
• Flirted openly? Guilty*now if not ‘openly’ then ‘behind closed doors’ would account for something else only, won’t it? ;-)*



• Stolen from a store? Guilty*okay sue me now!*
• Been fired from a job? Innocent*I fire things I don’t get fired...fried sometimes though I do get due to my big mouth!*
• Done something you regret? Guilty
• Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Guilty*actually it was the nose only...but to save my face...aaa...you know what I mean!*
• Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Innocent*unless aapke gaon mein “usse” snowflakes kehte hain ;-)*
• Kissed in the rain? Innocent :-(
• Made out in a public place? Innocent :-( :-(
• Kissed someone you shouldn’t? Innocent/Guilty*go figure that out Einstein*
• Sang in the shower? Guilty*my shower like Megh Devta erupts only after I scream...err...sing...maybe to shut my mouth with water*
• Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? Guilty/Innocent


• Had a weird haircut? Guilty*that says “had” by the way...no relation to present tense*
• Had a crush on more than one person at a time? Guilty*ek se mera kya hoga?*
• Initiated friendship with a stranger? Guilty*wise-ass...every friend is a stranger at some point!*
• Been an Agony aunt? Guilty*bloody all the time...if I charged for this...I could buy Bill Gates off*
• Fallen flat on your face before a crowd? Guilty*oho...what a moment...err...fall that was!*
• Donated Blood? Guilty
• Teased or whistled at a guy? Guilty ;-)
• Burnt food while cooking? Guilty*ho ho...and you don’t wanna know what I did with the burnt food!*
• Still love someone you shouldn’t? Guilty
• Wished you had magical powers? Guilty*evil grin*




• Have/had a tattoo? Innocent*so wanna be guilty :-(*
• Liked someone, but will never tell who? Guilty
• Been too honest? Guilty*hmm...Raja Harishchandra would have been proud of me for carrying his legacy to the point of dumbness*
• Thrown in a surprise party? Guilty*but why do I always ‘throw’...when would I be thrown for? :-(*
• Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you couldn’t walk afterward? Innocent*is there scope for MORE bloating? :-(*
• Erased someone in your friends list? Guilty
• Dressed in a woman’s clothes (if you’re a guy) or man’s clothes (if you’re a girl)?Guilty
• Joined a pageant? Guilty*and I even won...yiyee...yiyee*
• Been told that you’re handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? Guilty*blush, blush!*
• Had dreams about film stars getting cosy with you? Guilty*oh why did I wake up! @#$%*
• Got totally drunk on the night before exam? Innocent*unless you count in 5-6 bottles of water in this*
• Got totally angry that you cried so hard? Guilty

An Ode to Ten Years of U n Me!

I was asked if I could sustain without wealth...
I said I could and I would if I had enough love to nourish my soul’s health!
I was asked what I cherished the most- riches, fame or experiences of joy...
I said it were the times when you held me, when all I wanted to do was cry!
I was asked if I would change any moment of us being together...
I said yes I would...those moments when we were together but not side by side and change them to forever!

Ten years of a marital union...
And when I look back the journey is overwhelming!
We began as strangers...
Hesitant, faltering and dubious!
You can call it an arranged love...but then can love be arranged?
Yes, it can...it’s the larger set up of someone up above who is a romantic fool at heart!
He likes the idea of binding two unknown souls with a cord of matrimony and watches them tumble and up rise each day of their journey of self discovery and evolution!

I look back and try to find the reasons why you love me....

Is it because you always find your cupboards neatly done...all in layered piles stacked one above the other in a synchrony of a perfect balance or because you’ve never packed your luggage?
Yes, it must be because I strive each day to keep them in line and pack your stuff in my way, so you don’t miss me when I am not there!



Is it because never in ten years had you to see the doctor’s prescription, for all the medicines came arranged to you whenever and whatever you needed? Never bought groceries!
Yes, it must be, for I try to save you the effort of using your brain anywhere else but in knowing me!
*You know you don’t even know what vest size you wear or how often your toothbrush is changed on its own when it outlives its life or that your powder gets refilled before you have to ask!*

Is it because for years I would lay out your clothes on the bed before you emerged out of the washroom...from the handkerchief to your vest...from spotless clean shoes to your belt...all waiting to get on to your body like me?
Yes, it was for you slowly realized you could never choose what to wear to office or buy at a store, if I were not there to pick it out for you!

Is it because every moment that you spend at home, I have tried to be in front of your eyes...stay within arm’s distance in case you would need anything...and never let your eyes wander too far?
Yes, for sure, for I gave royalty a new meaning and you realized you were the king of good times!

Is it because I never cribbed or moaned when you woke me up at 4 a.m.*yes at night* because you were hungry and the Chinese food that you had shown to savour only to please me, digested sooner than you expected?
Yes, I think so, by the way you gobble down my namak-ajjwain ke parathas one after another at a go, which is proof enough!



Is it because men give you the look*damn you are a lucky dude*?
I can say so as when last week someone told me instead and in front of you that “I” was lucky to have you I watched with pure pleasure how you gloated with unmatched joy that someone said that to me instead of you, yet showered your pride at having me!

Is it because I am soft yet tough*please let me go on...I rarely go on a self praise trip...okay don’t make that face....going there after a loooooooong time*, I am sensible and yet a child...I praise yet criticize, I give you space and yet pry?
Must be because it is ten years and you still smile by just looking at me!

And now you make your typical baby face, grimacing at the idea that there it goes ALL about ME again!
Hang in there baby...I am coming to you only!

WHY DO I LOVE YOU? I INTROSPECT AT THAT TOO!

Is it because you kept giving me undying love in the initial years of togetherness, when I acted as a stuck up dumb head thinking arranged marriage was for our “mothers”?
Yes, I think so because when and how I fell in love with you became such a pleasant surprise which I received in bits and parts everyday!
You grew on me like the ivy clings!
You merged into me like sugar in water to make life taste so sweet!



Is it because you are so humble and noble and belong to the clan of humans who come with a tag “Send me for the noble prize and watch me win hands down”?
For sure, because the more I see you in everyday, the more I feel the awe that how can one person be so selfless? How can one man always think of others before himself? How can you forget about “you” to make me enjoy “me”?

Is it because I see you always cheerful and smiling and never ever have you raised your voice on me no matter how much I provoked you...which I did?
Yes, it is because you make me realize that smiles can be better than a 500 bucks massage and battles are won not with thunder but with just a hug! You make me feel that good was never so better and bad is not so worse!

Is it because you call me instantly from work if you leave seeing a little frown line on my forehead?
Because you never forget to get me chocolates on Karva Chauth to break my fast?
Because you hug me every day before going to work and I get a little kiss every time you return?
Because you feel my arm with your palm often forgetting where we are despite all your objections to public display of affection?

Because you would do just about ANYTHING to make me happy?
Because you love my family more than maybe I love them?
Because you keep ranting to everyone about what an amazing teacher or blogger I am despite having no first-hand experience of either with me?



Because you keep looking out for me even in a crowd of people at a party just to make sure I am having fun or not and if I am not, you come by my side and stay there?
Because you still call me “baby” although my size would put the entire children-dom to shame!
Because you make me thank my lucky stars*every time and ever so often that we make love* for you still being so super excited about me!
For giving me half of the chappatti off your plate even after knowing the next one would come to the table in another minute!
For always saying that I could have found someone better than you but telling me no one could love me better than you!

I love you...and always will...and these ten years just whooshed past because you loved me every single day...so today always feels like the day after tomorrow...and time flows by!

The Awesome Twosome!

It was an interesting night out with friends yesterday and a moment of revelation for me, which often happens when I am forced to sit in the women’s ONLY section (@#$%) and I survive it! All of my grown up life, I have lived with the belief that men are the most obsessed lots with boobs don’t raise a questioning eye brow now-of course women’s boobs and not their own, unless they have them too-ewww. But hellooooooooooo, wake up time! I was proved wrong yesterday! If there is anyone most obsessed with women’s breast on this planet-It’s the women themselves. Stop gloating “man”kind! You are only getting a peek here, a peek into the discussion that is, so no need there to rub-those eyes so much.

We now had a gang of women discussing the usual ‘blah, blah’ when the hostess suddenly asked...

Woman 1: Ladies, am I looking too flat in this T-shirt? (taking all the searching pairs of watchful eyes to her top half or the lack of it rather!)

Me: Oh not at all yaar, with a waist like yours (I sometimes think if I put my palms together in a circle, with my finger tips touching each other, her so-called waist just might fit into it. I get such an anxiety fit at the possibility of the idea coming true that I never end up trying to find out) and those long sexy legs, who cares what’s on top?

W2:  Hehe, yup and men don’t really care what’s on top, as long as it’s a woman up there! (followed by a wink)

W3(she’s the ‘big’ woman, who is now getting a chance to flaunt at least something big about her positively and feel proud): Oh no, no! Men do care gurls! I mean for all your great size zero fetish, doesn’t your guy really complain sometime? (raising her fingers expertly and seductively down her line-cleavage line dim heads or would that be the cleavage circle...er...whatever!) Mine would be so lost without them! Ouch!

W1(very seriously looking down at her little cleavage now): But I’m not THAT flat I hope? Suruchi, you touch me and tell? And before I can vouch for my lack of qualifications or express my opinion to govern where my “handy” movements should or should not be extended to without permission, my palm has been manually grasped and put on her breast!

Me: Hmm...aaaa...mmmm no, I am not moaning with pleasure...I am thinking of a suitable retort to please all those watchful eyes of female predators-to please them all with one answer. Yup, I was trying to go where no man had gone before!

My mental maths:

Should I say they are good?-But that would mean I have an under nourished choice!

Should I say they are good enough?-But that would mean I have a liking for them!

Should I say they could have been bigger?-But that would mean that I am trying to flaunt my own!

Should I say ‘who am I to tell’?-But that would mean I’d rather do other things with them than tell about it!

Should I say....?-@#$%^@#$$ Ugh-Time up!

Time to say now and get my hands off them!

Me: Err...not at all! What size are you by the way?

W1 (chin up n facial expressions tightened, the kind that you’d probably see on Shaheed Bhagat Singh’s face in movies when he’d say ‘I am an Indian’): I am a 33.

And she smiles expectantly for me to say if I approve of a 33 or not. Bloody hell, I never even knew there was a 33. I thought there was a Clearasil n then 32 and then 34 and then 36 and then 38 and then unnecessary-excessive-madness and fake beyond that. And who the f@#$ am I to say if 33 is bloody good enough or not? It’s not as if I am seeking some pleasures from it or that I have a degree in BVR-Breast Validity Recognition!

W5 (in an expression of half disbelief and half offended and full don’t-you-dare-mess-with-me): Oh come on, that’s not true! If you are 33 then how on earth can I be 34, with mine way lot bigger than yours? (eyes glowering with challenge now) Suruchi, now you feel mine too and prove it!

OH MY BLOODY GOODNESS!!!!!

Where the bloody hell is my lawyer? I have some rights and now I intend to sue some people here for woman/man handling me. For heaven’s sake-my preferences and public display/perception of it is at stake here! But poor me, I end up getting stuck in situations where I least expect, yes, like in between women’s breasts! Here I was, sitting between two hot looking women-my hands outstretched like a scarecrow’s-each cupping one out of two pairs of womanly breast and I don’t know where to look and how much to grasp and please don’t even begin to ask how I was feeling as in emotions and not feeling-feeling! Phew!

As though by divine intervention to screw my case further, these women realized perhaps I am ‘holding’ them too lightly and this might lead to a miscalculation of a final inference. So they made me press well and tight! There is no bloody respect of a public place in the youth today! Tch, tch, this coming from me who has always advocated PDA-public display of affection! Little did I know that both genders might get involved in the term ‘public’!

And there I also spotted my beloved sitting at the other end of the hall, almost tilting dangerously his chair backwards to look through the crowds at what I was up to with an expression of...

Not “What the f@#$!”

Not “Someone help my wife!”

Not “Khabardaar jo kisse ne mere biwi ko haath lagaya...err...se haath lagwaaya!”

But “Do u need help in there honey? It looks like you have quite a ‘handful’ to do just by yourself?”

Me (in my thought bubble in return): @#$%$#@@&!

Me: Girls, girls, how does it matter? At the end of the day, for these men, it is not important how much you juggle, but more vital how THEY make you wriggle! (Looking at others for a thunderous applause at my philosophical insight. But as it seems, I was stuck in the in‘sides’ still and the dumb women just watched me gaping, with their mouths of course!

And so slowly, inconspicuously, I got my hands down. Thanked the father up in heaven!

Oye, down bole to, down to my own sides!

W4 (now with her arms in an akimbo and her upper half jutting out threateningly at me): Since you are testing everyone else, you must feel me too and tell. My husband would hate it of he knew I were left out!

Holy freaking shit! I need to wash my hands with Dettol today or perhaps Ariel multi wash would do. I had to get the scent of these women off me! If you had to put me through the test my Lord, why couldn’t I be doing the men? Err...I mean I could tell by touching who had the better muscles...on their arms or softest hair...on their heads! (What gross things you people just thought here a line before, na? Ram, Ram, Ram...ghoor kalyug!)

Hmmm, I always dreamt that people would queue up before me someday-little did I know it would be for a Breast Awareness Camp that I didn’t even set up in the first place! By now a little crowd had gathered around our table for word had got out. (Ji nahi...hamaare gaon mein “usse” word nahi kehte!)

I got many men to shower curious glances at me, smirk with all their charm in the mighty hopes that I might leak some of my new found depth of the ultimate truth. Some even shook hands with me again, even though they had tested the softness of my palms upon arrival. I had to remind them that I am not a touch phone and this is not a touch-pass-vibration therapy!

And then the men in their truest dumb fashion began to boast and fling uncalled-for proposals as volunteers that thankfully ended my whole role as the tester. I feel the world can get to the cure of AIDS, discover new planets and achieve all the rest of scientific blah, blah that they are struggling to reach at, if only the men would just stop proposing, presenting and selling themselves at every bloody occasion!

Man 1: To judge this you must call someone from the opposite gender to get the whole idea? Hey, your bloody good luck today coz I am available!

M2: Is there a confusion? Ask me, I am an expert in these things? I can even tell you how you can upgrade!

M3: You girls, don’t listen to these perverts. All they wanna do is touch you. Let me come to the rescue. You all just stand in line here and I would just watch intently and tell. Problem solved!

All the W’s finally in unity (in our thought bubbles): @##$$#@@%^&!

Needless to say you can fathom what happened after this!

The group dispersed. Some went to their husbands/ secret admirers to confirm, some went in a corner and tightened the hooks of their push up bras, some others bitched about some others’ assets and few were seen walking about with their front out in the rest of the party!

And what about “Me” you wonder? Well, I just had too much of a “touchy” experience to be able to say more here!