Seeya's update

Well, for all of you who’ve been asking me what Seeya’s upto...
Here’s a quick update*okay, I know you are wondering...since when is “quick” four pages long...but then you know me by now...I hate briefs*;-)

My bundle of joy has now turned 11 months n a half n still a mini tornado in the making!
All my life I have detested mothers who have nothing better to do than rant hysterically about their kids activities that helloooo we just might not be interested in listening. So to save my ass from being a pain for all those around me, I hereby tell you guys about her sweet nothings and get it off my chest.

Item numbers seem to be the flavour of the season...
Why I feel so...my daughter’s favourite songs at this time of the year are ‘Munni badnaam hue’ n now ‘Shiela ki jawani’
A wee bit restless at the development...I frown at her each time she watches these songs on the idiot box with rapt attention that could put even the best of my focused students to shame.
And when I say ‘Seeya...’-ignored.
‘Seeeyaa...’-disinterested.
‘Seeeeeyyaaaaa...’-deaf for all she cares.
‘Seeya, Seeya, Seeyaaaa...’
I finally get her to turn her head at me...but look at me with complete contempt as though thinking,
‘What mom...you made my eyes turn from THAT to YOU?’
And so she returns back shaking her bums on the beats or jerking her head in a surprisingly professional attempt of being the next hip hop star!
She just has to hear music and her lower half breaks into something that tells us that with time she’s going to break some bones in dancing her guts out.

I have been teaching her new words n actions n generally a whole lot of stuff so that I can flaunt her off to interested onlookers at how much she knows.
You know how automatically the class begins for the poor little ones, in front of family n friends because selfish parents want to beam with pride when people watch all amazed at the antics...our very own monkey show, that’s free of cost!
I do that too*sue me, judge me*
She can say a ‘Ram, Ram’ to you with folded hands*do I see a raised eyebrow in admiration?*
She says “Jai” in front of the temples n raises her hands high asking god ji to make her itnaaaaaaaaaaa bada!
*Not still impressed, are you? Where are my arsenals?*
Seeya has learnt how to nod her head in a ‘yes’ n not just once but at least three to four times in one go to make sure what she demands is presented to her at once or send her mommy to the deathly gallows or feed her to the hungry tiger types!

She also does a “no” movement with that same little head, but that comes at the misappropriate time when we ask her to eat and sleep or when we tell her to still sit or mum for a while.
She does a pat on her head to show “offo”
And a palm on her mouth to indicate “haaaw”*don’t ask on seeing what!*
*I am so loving this shameless display of my teaching skills*
She can tell you where her eyes n nose n ears n tummy n bums are*okay, no Einstein here, but try teaching something to an eleven months old...phew! I’d rather teach Shakespeare to my class 10th students*
And no one taught her to but she can put her hand in the ladies kurtas to look for I don’t know what! We’ll just have to wait her to grow up and unlock the mystery.

I had been teaching her from a while to put a finger on her lips and say “chup”.
But in vain...
Cut to last Sunday when we took her to a children’s zone called ‘Fun City’ and there she had a blast looking at the swings n rides n teddies n generally all the stuff that makes you feel ‘wtf did we do as children, without these’...
After almost an hour plus of the gallivanting there I asked my mini beloved,
“Seeya, ghar chalen?”
And she glares at me n with some split second Lara Croft jerky action says “chup” to me and looks away...
Omg...the nerve of you one footer n even less...
:-)

No one’s ever raised so much as a finger at her, but ask her mummy kaise pitai karte hain n she’d hit her head with her little palms...
Et tu brute...ah...never mind...yeh moh maya ke sansaar mein aur expect bhi kya kar sakte hain na!

She has the ability to watch the television non-stop without blinking her eyes for almost one minute...
Do you think I should contact Limca Book of Records?
Maybe she’s the youngest to do that the longest...
And I am sure if we push her with advertisement of teddies n 9XN ke really dumb promo cartoons...who knows, we might have a genius in the making!
Only this genius would be a little misinterpreted...
No one other than the mum would interpret her as one!

She’s not interested in dolls...they get their heads sloshed off by her.
She prefers animals instead...never mind if she eats up their tails or breaks their limbs.
Give her a toy with light n sound n see her smile.
Look away for a second n return to find her opening the back side to look for batteries n wires*omg, do you think she would carry forward the torch of technical brilliance that her mom enlightened the world with?
Okay, wishful thinking time over*

She’s a smart cookie too.
She knows when she is being forcefully made to put to sleep, as I curl her tight in my arms and swing her from side to side...
At that time, she would repeatedly croon “mumma” or smile at me or trace my nose with her tiny fingers to distract my lullaby*maybe the lullaby is so horribly pitched that it keeps her from sleeping...should look into that*
She would call “papa” or “mumma” again n again if she feels you are not giving her the attention that she deserves*that is keep all your eyes on her and talk to her or do some clowning around to entertain Her Highness without flinching even for a second*

She likes to put her hand in the powder puff box n spread it...
She likes to put her mouth into the baby cream nozzle n devour the extracts...
She loves the newspaper which she can tear into bits n parts suitable enough to go in her mouth.
If she meets a new kid, her way of greeting him or her is by putting her fingers in his eyes...whoa, some fixations! I need to remind her the upteenth time then that he is a living human being n not one of her blinking stuff toys.
I guess I still need to teach her the right usage of body parts and their functions.

I scolded her once*just once* with the maximum of a little raised tone when she was creating foam of spit in her mouth repeatedly..
Maharani ji went over to the pillows on the side of the bed and sprawled there tummy down and looked away from me with a hint of tear mixed with wrath in her eyes...
The modern day “kop bhawan” people!

Did I tell you how she has the habit if getting up at odd hours of the night for her rejuvenation is over and her batteries now need an hour of playing with her, no matter if the hands of the clock are stuck somewhere between 3 and 4 o’clock?

And please do not bring her within striking distance of dogs...
She might be injurious to their health...yes, even the most ferocious ones, for she might just cuddle them to death.
And beg n plead n groan as much as you may...she might give you a hugggy only if it suits her fancy or you have promised her to take her out for “ghoomy ghoomy” that is for an outing!
She views sleep as a waste of precious time as though she’ll miss some action n so at the first hint of a wake up time, she would not waste time in slowly opening her eyes or taking an angdai aka Hindi film heroines, but sit upright on her cot or stand in a jiffy holding her cot as though some Major of the army somewhere shouted “attention”!

That’s my Seeya, Ladies n Gentlemen, boys n girls...
She has the softest of cheeks
And the cutest of melting smiles.
She can do enough drama to make Shakespeare proud n befool us all.
She is the apple, cherry, banana n the entire fruit basket of our life.
So until further developments, watch this space!
:-)

The Trial Room!

This has to go down in my history as a landmark epiphany!
Somebody had once asked me...does madness trail me or I trail madness?
I still don’t know who is doing what...but I do know that I have the god’s grace n disgrace to find myself in situations that make me a butt of laughter for my cute readers that is thou, my friend.

Zooming into a mall...crowded n throbbing with activity and like I would relate to you...also some action!
I pick up loads of stuff to go and check them out in the trial rooms*one of those days when “50% off” signs on the counters make you lose your sense and rationality and you grab anything that touches your fingers*
The long moustached uniformed guy at the end of some six cubicles of the trial area looked questioningly at me seeing the stuff on my hand n shoulders and some even pinned under my chin, as though I would set up my own new shop in that stupid trial room.

He counted...
“Madam, you can’t take 14 pieces together...please take 3 at a time and I’ll hand over the rest!”*translated from Hindi to English*
But 3 multiplied by 5 makes it 15*yes, I distribute knowledge wherever possible*...at least let me take 5 at a time and that way just 3 trips and the whole mall profits by the time I save....
But how can you expect a security guard to understand accounts n economics...duh, I tell you!
I first take in the 3 “stuffs” that I wouldn’t want HIM to hand me over.

No amount of my smiling n whining n ‘phuleeze, I have a baby at home and I must do this fast’ worked on him...
Alrite, don’t look at me like that...these 14 pieces were the first 14 pieces of god made cloth that I would be taking to the trial room after six months...the first in my history of existence of sorts...
And this after I could get the vibrations of the malls sending me sighs n moans saying they missed me...

Anyways...so there I took the fifth cubicle, the second last one in that row and started to undress...
Oye...it was no ‘husn ke laakhon rang...kaun sa rang dekhoge’ types!
Nopes...not for what you think...or rather...what you don’t think...or then again...please don’t think...Mein hoon na...
Saare duniya ke liye sochne ko!

And suddenly I hear moans...
Not the mall moaning to me...
But an actual human being as though whimpering...
And I thought someone was gasping...emergency...someone’s dying...severely asthmatic...having a heart attack...claustrophobic*never mind if the cubicles were open from top*
Okay, okay...I didn’t really think any of that!
You know how I think by now...
Yup, I imagined someone being laid!
And then told myself to stop being so one track minded always...
This was the ladies trial area and these are all women out here and the mouschy guy would not let me take an extra piece of cloth, how would he let someone tag along an extra piece of male flesh inside?

So I gently tapped on the common wall...
“Excuse me, are you okay?”
And the moans stopped.
I thought whoever was in there...must be okay...or died or whatever as I have a baby at home remember...
So I must rush with my job out here n get out.

3 clothes n almost-clothes down n all rejected...
Why don’t they make clothes that make you look thin...er...thinner than you are?
I get out almost like Jhansi ke Rani at having precious little five minutes wasted on useless tops and having to dress back again n go to that nerdy guard and beg for the next 3.

I get back again n as soon as I take off my kurta...voila!
The moans reoccur...
My James Bondish instincts arouse as I look around for hidden cameras...yes, I can be duh enough to assume that someone has fixed a camera there and a microphone in his own cubicle so I can hear him moan while he sees me unclothed! I would put Einstein to shame, I tell you.
Sue me...I cannot be 100%brilliant at short notice all the bloody time...
I may have super-human abilities...but at the end of the day...I am also only a “human”!

Now that there were no cameras...and I was assured the moans were from the next cubicle...I decided to save the earth by taking the baton in my own hands...
In this case, the ‘baton’ was a small stool that was kept there and ‘my hands’ would be more like my feet... I decided to venture my magnanimous foot on it to take a giant leap for mankind and save a dying soul who is gasping so much that she can’t even squeak out for help.
So what if I can’t fly like Superwoman...I can at least peek...
It’s the thought that counts not the flying abilities anyways.

I get up and take a peek and...and...and....
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.....
Two human beings or so it seemed were crammed up or rather ‘up and down’ in that teeny weenie space doing what we normally need a bed space to do...
Nopes dodos...they were not sleeping n snoring...
They were actually making love...
Thankfully they were clothed on top and the bottom graphics were hazy due to top view that I was getting...
So I did not get grotesque imagery to live with me for the rest of my life...
Real life Indian, very F grade porn-F bole to fail n faltu...no, thank you!

But then...whoa! huh! How?
I use the stool to support humanity and they use the stool to support butts!
People...get a life...this is a trial room for crying out loud...
Try these kinda “fits” somewhere else...phuleeeeeeeeeeeeze!
Actually to think deeper about it*not that I want to but then I am so dedicated to your service of enlightment that I make these sacrifices always*maybe they were not making out...
But they WERE DOING SOMETHING....n to think any deeper would make this whole thing even worse!
A different deeper though...I am also wondering at the genders of those within, for I had jumped down in a split second after the sighting...too aghast to hold my ground!

So let’s just say...I shared another of my ewwww moment with you...
I rushed out n pointed towards the last cubicle saying...
“Wahan kuch hain?” for lack of any better exclamations...
And he tells me...
“Oho, madam aap baaki ke sab clothes ek saath le jaayeye....and yeh first waala khaali ho gaya...yahan jaayeye na!”
O MY GOOD GOD!
And needless to say, it was the first time I did not shop anything despite the 50% off tag beckoning alluringly at me!
I was in too much rush n distaste to get out of there!

Statutory warning: The stunts performed in this post are done by seemingly experts n professionals...trying them on your own without guidance can be extremely injurious to your health and those of peeping Toms around you!

Happy in Stereotypes, are we?

What would happen if men would think like women n women began to consider the man-view of aspects in life?

Imagine a wife eyeing her man lustily from top to bottom as though a mouth-watering chocolate dripping cake with a cherry on top*and yet a promise of no calories* has been alluringly put in sight!

Imagine then the husband says ‘Not today honey, I have a headache’

Imagine again the wife saying, ‘You always have that excuse. Why in God’s name have I married you then?’

Hypothetically again...a man remembering all dates of all kinds of insane anniversaries or a woman remembering routes while driving or even parking right between two vehicles just a few feet apart.

Or cut to a restaurant where the girl orders a hearty four course meal and the guy nibbles on the salad coz he’s on a diet to attain a zero figure.

A woman who is constantly on the mobile phone *not for gossiping*attending ‘urgent’ calls or emailing and a man cribbing about it or about the fact that she has too many girls night-outs while he sits around at home waiting for her!

The woman repairing the electric mains and the man telling you how to remove the haldi ke stains from a table cloth!

Actually such predicaments are not so difficult to imagine with modern day role reversals but instead of these being sporadic episodes, what if they become the scenario at large?

Certain roles have been pre-defined to suit the genders.

I am not averse to a duo going dutch to foot a restaurant bill or the idea of women initiating sex or proposing to a guy...

But certain stereotypes look cute as they are, don’t they?

It is sweet to have someone you’ve been eyeing come across the bar to ask you if he could buy you a drink*of course in a more innovative way*

Nice to have a boy fall on his knees to propose...

With a girl doing so thoda technical locha bhi ho sakta hain na...like the skirt getting lifted or if it is a mini skirt...too much excess being proposed than is intended.

Let men do the dirty work.

Ah the world where chivalrous men open doors for their better halves or even someone else’s better half or remove their coats to cover the slightly shivering petite form of their princesses in the harsh cold wind!

Rippling muscles adorning the Greek god like male form rather than the female’s.

Where men get ready to fist a loafer’s face blue if he raises so much as an eyelid at the girl on his arm...

Where long hair in ponytails, were strictly a woman’s domain and casing, bullet-proof looking leather jackets bore a ‘men-only’ tag.

Where men pay the bills when women shop!

Where women in sexy lingerie welcome home their husbands with a surprise and they live happily ever after in the room...at least for a few hours!

Where men are treated as gods and women as queens!

Where only women keep the KarvaChauth vrat*actually no point even in women keeping it but men observing this fast is a little too Karan Johar-ish!*

It is equally nice to have the man cuddling you for comfort more often than the woman doing the same round the clock.

Having a man cry once or twice in a movie is so cute, try living with a fully grown man-like something who is a cry baby!

It is better to have a woman tying up a neck tie than watch a man do his beloved’s sari...I mean like EVERY time!

I know of a working couple who stay alone in a metropolitan city and hence as need necessitate it to be...the husband gets up every morning to polish her and the children’s shoes and iron the clothes of the kiddos and his wife before he can do his own and go to office. Without intending to be prejudiced or high headed, but sorry, it is not a very pleasing sight for me...

I would like to give certain respects and benefits to the husbands by default just as women deserve certain pampering without having to ask for it.

I remember a while ago a tag doing the rounds of ‘What you do as opposed to your gender stereotype?’

I was tagged too...but couldn’t manage to do it then.

So here I go, on how though I love the basic stereotypes I equally adore breaking the moulds...

Oxymoron to the core!

I am not a normal girl...matlab ke sab straight hain magar kahin kahin crooked turns aa jaate hain:

1. I hate gossiping n talks about maids n mothers-in-law n children put me off like an electric short circuit darkening it all.

2. I absolutely like the idea of being a single or rather sole woman in a group of men*partying of course, you dirty minds* while the other men having their wives sitting in some corners and bitching.

Too many women in sight, is not a pleasant sight for me!

3. I can handle my man looking or admiring other women...I even join him to discuss some vital statistics...er...vital issues of it.

4. I don’t mind scurrying around getting the car repaired or paying mobile bills or circling the BSNL office to get my internet connection running*many women I know refuse to do such things as they consider them to be the men’s jobs*

5. I like ‘chedo-ing’ guys...not like a tapori whistle or ‘Aata kya?’ type ke sidey remarks...but a subtle tease works super duper with me! Sometimes I feel I flirt like a guy too...now how is that possible...we’d keep it for some other time.

6. I like to pay the bill at a restaurant once in a while or take all onus of a short holiday sometimes as a treat to my man... ‘Jao tum bhi kya yaad karoge ke kiss cheez se shaadi hue hain’ types ehsaan to his being.

7. I love action movies...though not the Jackie Chan kinds...I can’t stand the sounds they emit of ho-ha-wha*from their mouths of course* when they hit someone!

It’s like unpleasant noisy love making in the room next door when you aren’t getting any in your own.

8. I love driving fast...really fast...in fact I sometimes honk the life out of a youngster who drives at a snail pace ahead of me.

An oldie doing so is fine, but for a young blood...offo...move it!

9. I would love to someday get so drunk that I get onto a table and dance*hopefully the table would not give away n neither would I in the attempt to get over it*

10. Then there is the list of what I’d do if I were a man...have multiple girlfriends...walk bare chested on a very hot day...not bother about growing eyebrows...try to get into a wrestle game at least once n where the prospects of my winning are high...or punch someone hard on the face, without hurting my fist in the bargain...ride a Harley Davidson kinda bike...

Aaa....Actually not much else...

I am happier being a woman n batting the eyelids to get all these things done somehow anyways!

So while following the stereotypes is cool...deviating from the usual is sometimes ‘cooler’...now what concerns being AC*poor joke*is very much your take to be in life!

The Rainy Day of Love!

After five years she saw him again today in a similar rain dipped afternoon that they used to spend their dating days in. Crystal droplets of rain that wash clear all the dust-laden ‘things’ had been doing the same to their emotions and amalgamating their souls it seemed from eternity.

She pondered over as rain beat against the lonely roof with all its noisy ferocity...

Is it destined they come across each other when it rained or when one came upon the other it rained to felicitate the occasion?

But before she could reach the safe banks of any conclusion, the flood of past memories washed her down to the path of no return.

She saw herself back at the milestone as though she was never gone.

Sushant looked just as handsome as he did when they first met...the same chocolaty boyish disarming charm, the ease n sophistication of casual mannerism, pink as though lipstick-kissed puckered lips against his fair cheeks with silken wavy hair flirtishly covering a part of his forehead.

His eyes though a little deeper now, as if laden with grinding thoughts, had somehow lost the innocent mischief that used to perpetually play there.

His five feet eight inches frame could have passed off as just another face in the crowd had God in all his magnanimity, not bestowed on him the gift of gab by which he could convince anyone of the impossible and ended up being surrounded by drooling females.

He still would pass off as a fresher in college she thought and not as a thirty something soon-to-be father.

Ameesha had kept a tab on his life even though their ways had parted...not that she consciously wanted to stalk his existence but when someone somewhere mentioned the name of the renowned businessman Sushant, her ears would stand up a little more than usual.

They say first love is the hardest to get over and Ameesha had convinced herself of the accuracy of this theory.

Despite all the pretence of having moved on, she knew her life hung around him like tiny leaves clinging on to the tendril, in a terrible fear of being driven to the unknown by the wanton wind.

She clung to his memories as though her life depended on them.

It had been a weird kinda feeling when she had heard five years ago that he was getting married and that the girl was an extraordinarily pretty Punjabi kudi. Part of her that loved him n his happiness so dearly from years, had been happy for he was getting what he always wanted-a pretty girl to show off by her arm. Part of her pined n ached in envy that burnt her insides and charred her peace for days.

And after that they had not met...lived in different cities and their paths had never crossed.

But now when she was back home and as though conspiringly he appeared before her eyes like a mystical fantasy materialising irresistibly and within hurried seconds they had decided to meet again.

And she was leaving that evening for the States...

Was it fate that brought him to her just before she was to go away forever?

 She had spent many a rain soaked days sitting at the French window of her palatial abode remembering him.

They suited each other like the plug fits the socket for lack of a better allegory!

They hit off the day they were introduced...she was eighteen and the eighteenth girl*in the twenty one years of his eventful life* that he was trying to seduce into being his girlfriend.

He would tell her unabashedly and she would laugh at all the dumb blond-ish kinda lasses who fell for him...until that is she joined their ranks and got super convinced that she was made of the fabric that altered the indulgent hearts!

They were crazy about each other...he would follow her school bus just to catch a glimpse of her...or on a holiday visit her home and ring the bell on the pretext of asking an address. He would call every hour and be restless when he didn’t hear her voice. She filled up his loneliness and he filled up her senses like a mountain in spring time.

Ah! She remembered how he so wanted her to come to his big birthday celebration and she could not...he left his own party and was missing for an hour during which he had parked his car at a lonely corner and was talking to her over the newly introduced mobile phones spending almost forty bucks a minute on the call.

He cried, laughed, thought, felt and lived with and for her.

She smiled at the thought.

Then she sighed at another that why couldn’t she get over him despite five years coming in between them.

Why could she still feel his fingers on her arms and even their gentle press?

How could his smell fill up her senses still?

It was as though his lips never parted from hers and as she rolled her tongue over hers, she thought she tasted him all over again.

They say life ain’t a fairy tale and ‘happily ever after’ she now believed was the dumbest phrase ever coined.

For three years he was wrapped around her fingers and danced upon her whims until a pretty young thing got him to stray.

He was caught with the temptress by a mutual friend in the empty flat that belonged to his father, where Ameesha herself had spent many a love drenched moments of complete abandon with him.

Hearts that were addicted to each other trembled at the rude shaking of the foundation yet continued to beat for they knew no other way except to heave for each other.

Within a year she accepted her parents’ decision and got engaged to their choice.

He called...said she should have told him!

She heard him in silence!

Also heard that he banged his car into an electric pole the next day but she had committed and given her word.

He had his chance n blew it.

She didn’t know then that what she thought was her parting gift of torture to him with a sense of irreparable loss, would become an unbearable ache of life for her.

Her deep sighs would have been audible had battering rain not eaten them up.

Closing the leaves of the book of reminiscences, she got up from the chair.

Ameesha walked across to the other end of the table to the love of her life.

She put her fingers lovingly against the flaccid face of Sushant, the deepest of peaceful sleep spreading across his pallor.

Sushant would never be able to cheat on her again.

Sushant would never be able to bed another woman.

Sushant would never rise again.

He lay there dead before her and she stood there dead before him!

Death is so liberating, na?

Washes away the entire wrath you feel for someone.

Suddenly she felt love again for him after just moments ago of uncontrollable hatred.

She stacked away the poison bottle in her purse and cleaned the coffee mugs.

She looked around his same flat to dig up any traces of her that still remained.

The flat still looked very much the same as it did so many years ago.

Abandoned, not really furnished...away from the civilization and probably used as a den by his father and him to bring unsuspecting vulnerable souls there and crush them for life.

That’s why they never kept any servants or care-takers there.

Probably the wives didn’t even know of the existence of that house of doom.

Would anyone even discover his body?

Funny she thought that she should still think of his interest.

Funny he should ask her to meet him here, where his acts had terminated all relations that existed between them!

Funny he should coldly mock at how childish she was to hold one act of straying against him for life!

Funny how he should selfishly propose they sleep together once before she goes away forever!

Guilt is such an infectious thing!

And lack of it- even more contagious!

He was going to have a baby, she had thought for a split second.

But she could never manage to have one with her husband for she could never dig up any love for him, as Sushant had drained her of any vestiges of the same.

What goes around should come around too, right?

Ameesha hauled up his lifeless body to the French window of that two-storied flat and similar such windows adorned every room of her wedded home as they had always reminded her of him.

This French window would perhaps bring an end to this all!

She heaved him up full length, kissed him one last time and sent his body staggering down on the water blanketing the cemented floor of his weed- adorned backyard.

The boisterous rain gobbled up any thump that could have been immediately discovered and anyways the house was forgotten enough for anyone to realize for a couple of days even if dinosaur eggs breathed to life there.

Good thing she had insisted to take a cab to the flat.

Good thing she had found rat poison in the shelves of the coffee counter of that almost haunted house, before the flame of wrath in her could be simmered.

Good that he had admitted she was just another feather in his cap.

Good thing that all good things come to an end.

Good...bad...evil...divine...love...hate...guilt...isn’t it all relative?

Ameesha rushed outside to the waiting cab to take her to the airport.

It was time to go away...

Isn’t ‘the end’ always a beginning of something else?

The Hairy Story

Hair...here...hare...hire...okay the last one does not rhyme in the context...but homophonic-ally*I know that’s not a word either*it suits the tongue so, I’d let it stay!
For lesson No. 1 baby, whatever suits the tongue...you MUUUUUUUST let it stay! ;-)

Okay...back to the context...
What is it about hair that evokes so much hue n cry?
If they are not there*but most needed THERE!*
If they are there*but OMG not wanted THERE!*

If they are not enough*and create a trickle where there should be a cascade*
If they are more than enough*and create a bush in place of a twig...er...I meant the eyebrows here by the way*

If they are black*when the rest of your body screams you are pre-historic*
If they are white*when you haven’t even developed your wisdom tooth*
When they rise all over the place or fall all over one!
Ewwwww....

OMG...I think I am going to have hair-nightmares tonight...
Hair-scare, anyone?*what lengths I have to go to, to satisfy my readers...so many sacrifices n self torture...ah, someday my worth shall be learnt*

 Anywaysss...I would now take you through some hair adventures through my history and knowledge...I hope they do not turn into hair-raising ones!

I remember the first time my dearly beloved had come to “see” me, along with his jing-bang of a family*not that they believe in too much bang-bang...or do they...or whateeeeeeever...I intend to stay married dearies...so please don’t ask for details*

We were given some alone time by the pool side of this hotel to get to “know” each other better. I have mentioned earlier that mine is a purely arranged marriage...but let me restate it for those of you who were born late*well, that does not imply I am ‘ancient’ dodo, that states you were a douche-bag to be so non-updated on me*

Oooffo...where were we?
Ya, right...So, let me retell my tale of our first meeting!

We queried on our education*which our mothers had already told us about* then went on to hobbies*yes, it was like an appointment interview...thank god they do not ask about the ‘experience’*
And then about friends and hang outs*hmm...character assassination...oops...I mean assess-ion...what ass of words!*
And finally it melted...the ice of course!

So my beloved threw his volley, in his true blue Raja Harishchandra style...
“Let me tell you two things very clearly about myself...”
I am listening with very intent ears waiting to be audience to a very earth shattering revelation *and my mind’s thinking-he has an affair...he’s gay...he likes my mom better...aaaaaaah...shut up my mind!*

“Firstly, I have less hair on the head...”
And he bowed his cute head down to show me the commencement of his journey into eventual baldhood...baldism*okay stupid ‘Word Review’ tell me the god damn word* BALDNESS...phew...finally!*
But actually it was a sparsely spaced kinda mound in between...

“And secondly I like watching girls....”
Yes...yes...yes...I still walked the aisle with this guy!

His brutal honesty is a trait that I still cherish*alrite...remove that smug smile off your faces...I know what you are thinking...she agreed because the same was the case with her...Oye, hellooooooo...that does not imply that “I” was balding or that “I” liked watching GIRLS!!!!!!!!
Please get the drift for I don’t have much energy to explain!*I have to complete a long post here, remember!*

So there...my first real association with hair-bare talks!
Since then...it’s much ado about nothing on the head actually!

He carries a comb more dedicatedly than the most conscious of models...and before getting out of the car, he HAS to comb his hair although I tell him, darling not even one strand of what you have on your head has moved even by a centimetre...but talk about hair fetish!

Why I remember the hair today, you ask?
1. I saw a man this evening during my walk treading towards me in slow steps and I noticed something peculiar about him...He had abnormally large*no, not those*abnormally large*please stop picturing things till I give you details*
Abnormally large EARS!
I was watching him with wonder and as he came closer, much to my horror, I realized it was not an extension of his ears, but a spray of obnoxious hair forming a maze at the edges of both his ears!
You know, like a spool of thread wound in a messy bunch and stuck there!
Yes...it was a completely OM good G ewwwweee situation!

2. I have two dear friends who are bald...and they light up my facebook status often with their unbeatable humour and wit! So I have been researching with professional experimentation and inferences on a possible world altering premise that baldness is directly proportional to razor sharp intelligence!
I was so tempted to conduct this experiment is a greater degree outside the temples of Tirupati Balaji...but then on deeper speculation hopped into the conclusion that complete surrendering*or accepting destiny’s verdict of natural loss* of hair FOR LIFE alone, would lead to the desired consequences*just to make this sound more technical n hence believable*!
So there’s hope for all you dumb guys...and stop gloating The Bald Guy!

3. Baldness seems to be in vogue...my dear blogger hunk buddy Mohit, recently decided to go bare*relax, I mean just on the head...much to the disappointment of bevy of beauties* and he seems to be loving it!

And why wouldn’t someone? I mean:
You become a sure shot head turner...whatever the reasons...at least you don’t have to do weird things to stand out in a crowd!

You get to stay forever young...how you ask...well, the first indications of old age are white hair, right...so no hair...no tell tale...offo how duh can you be to not get that on your own!

It is also economically feasible:
No expenses on shampoos, oils, combs, hair spa, colouring or straightening, hair cut, dermatologists!
Heck you even weigh less on the weighing machine, minus the hair*what more can one ask for!*

4. I recently got a new hair cut...that makes people think I look younger and slimmer*wtf...and I blew so much money on gym and facials...if someone had told me it was THAT easy, how much of my khoon-pasene ka kamai would have still been with me...
So for the benefit of the rest of the world...I have hereby declared another breakthrough brain wave!
*you can send the thank you notes along with the cheques expressing gratitude on my email address above*

Enough on hair for today I suppose...
Before the hair fraternity decides to boycott me and send my luscious, cascading tresses on the extinction way!
Have a hairy life...I mean hari-bhari or rather black-bhari life*reminds me of the awesome ad of Blackberry boys*! :-)

Express Your Love Now!

Hmmm...I want to write something nice today...

Something that has the intention of making me feel good n not just my readers*READERS...ah! Sounds so flattering na, as though I have a million eyes glued to their computer screens just to catch a glimpse of my next post*

It’s been a while since I have written a post n felt proud about it.

With new roles in my life n the dimensions n perceptions changing, I am trying with all my main n might to hold on to the vestiges of the sensible madness that defined me...

But today I want to speak of n spread love.

I want to talk about love-expressed n unexpressed.

I have a very dear, very young friend of mine, who is in love with a pretty, young n wise thing*I mean a girl btw, just to clear the air* from a long while...say months, which is actually long enough by today’s standards...but he has been unable to express it.

True to my ‘playing Cupid’ syndrome...it took me excruciating months too n all my conviction but I convinced him to propose, he came around, she accepted and they finally live in love land happily ever after.

Now this development has had several repercussions for me:

1. I sooooooooooo wanna fall in love again now, for there is nothing in this world that gives you better kicks n highs than falling into a naya-naya pyar.

2. You can find me all puffed up*nopes, I have not put on weight* about my mahaan, world altering task of bringing ‘do pyaar karne waale’ together*don’t they give a Nobel or something for that?*

3. It got me thinking as to why people waste time in waiting to express how they feel...when they could have been wrapped in each other’s arms during this tenure sipping the nectar of sweet love?

I read somewhere that all of us have default minds like closed buds of flowers!

Sometimes circumstances or events that occur in the natural course help us to open our thinking and bloom to our true glory and the way nature makes us to be...

Otherwise we suffer from one of many such following syndromes:

“Since most common people do not do so, it is wrong for us to want to”

“If it was right as considered in my mother’s time, it is right still”

“What would people say? I can’t risk being seen in any other light except the one under which I am standing!”

“Expressing feelings n being rejected post it is the end-all of any expressions whatsoever and ever”

Etc....

Thankfully...some of us bloom, but sadly many of us remain confined in our outdated thinking...yes, even for life!

Same goes for love!

Although we see rash passionate commitments in today’s scenario, changing faster than the season’s fashion trend, there are yet a handful of youngsters who still believe in the old fashioned love...

Saving themselves along with the L-word for the special someone....

Taking all the time in and of the world in expressing even random bits of affection although the heart is pounding with mind numbing hammer beats of love!

And worst come worst, some even being content in their mute adoration of someone special with no aim of EVER exposing their love even to the target of it all!

Fearing what-if I am rejected...or laughed at...ridiculed?

Would it be the death knell of a good friendship?

I truly believe that whenever you like someone, you MUST let them know so.

All of us deserve to know if there is someone who secretly likes us a little more than a whole horde of our friends do.

It is such an amazing feeling to be loved!

I don’t know why people are horrified or embarrassed or cringy at the idea?*unless there is a complete jerk at the other end that is*

Even if you may not be able to love the person back, it would make you feel warm to know that you made an impact of some kinds and whatever you are doing is likeable enough*yiy, yiy, yiy!*

Furthermore my dear young souls in love, please remember that someone who coined the proverb ‘Early bird catches the worm’ did not do so in a state of dizzy drunkenness...he made n still makes sense!

If you would wait for the right moment in all probability, the right moment would come too late making it a wait forever!

Besides, any emotions if let unexpressed slowly start to gnaw within your being and rotten some vital domain of feelings.

You become so used to of hiding sentiments that even when one fine day you get into a committed relationship, you often leave gaps everywhere which you want to fill but find yourself unable to do so out of the dumb habit of being that way.

So let the world know...

Why do you think social networking sites ask you ‘What’s on your mind?’ in the garbs of status updates...because they know it helps to vent out!

What maximum can happen?

She would laugh at the idea?

Laugh about it along with her...pretend that it could have mattered a lot if she had said ‘yes’ but phew, alas now it does not!

You would know once n for all how she feels, so that you can either stop pining and getting on every one’s nerves being a heart rendered Majnu, or gear up to court her off her feet in either possibilities.

You’d know to channelize your energies of body n mind elsewhere on brighter prospects instead of wasting the precious years of your youth and emotions on someone who does not appreciate or care for it.

There is a plethora of ‘prospective’ girlfriends n boyfriends out there...and that stupid line that someone coined ‘We can truly love just one person in our life’ definitely did so in a state of dizzy drunkenness!

We all live post rejections...even if a friendship is lost, there is no way there can’t be more or better ones...

Nothing n no one in life is indispensible!

And that line... “Mein uske bina jee nahi sakta” is too cheesy even for films now!

In today’s time, even ‘young’ people are mature enough to handle the fact that someone has feelings for them...

One does not let things go awkward or go in hyper tension just coz she knows another person in that room once expressed his love to her.

She moves on by saying that she does not feel the same way and hence even after declining the love, she retains the friendship!

So express your love...say as you feel...love n be loved...for there is nothing else that matters on Mother Earth.

We were sent here not to raise empires, or create history.

But to love n let love...and let know when love lights the world by letting us love!

Thoda Aur Wish Karo-dream a little dream for me!

Life offers everyone life altering moments...
I have been waiting for mine...
Dreamt n enacted them...
Even happily lived ever after there!
These are images that don’t just come n go but stay with me as a deep down urge for life.
I know I have once before also enumerated my mad dreams...but this time my friends, I am dead serious*waise how on earth can someone be LIVE serious...beats me!*

Scene 1:
I am walking along the road as a commoner and a speeding truck comes from the other side...vrooooooooooom!
An old man is walking along with his stick, oblivious to his almost approaching end...tak...tak...tak...goes his stick*abhi sound effects ke bina narration looks pheeka-pheeka nahi?*
I look at the two extremes*in slow motion for your picturization but in Rajnikant lightening speed* and without any fear for my own life I rush forward, ekdum filmy ishtyle se saying ‘NAAAHIIIINNNN’ n push the oldie to safety, after almost risking my own life in the procedure*yes, I can be duh sometimes and that, if happens, would qualify as one such moment*

But how is this life altering you may ask?
Hellooooooooooow sweeties...That old man is among Forbes’*you can alter that to any other magazine* richest NRI in the U.K. and is here in India because he has cancer*you can alter that to whatever other disease as long as it is fatally fatal* n he wanted to visit his native town...
Voila! He meets his life saviour*yours truly* and is so impressed by my Jhansi Ki Rani instincts. So him having no family back home, signs his 5000*I don’t mind more zeroes there*million dollars to me as gratitude inheritance and dies in ONE week* oye...here you canNOT alter the time frame...sab kuch thode na aapke marzi se chalega*

So there I am now drenched in riches and counted among bitches!
What a spoilt n wonderful life that would be!
Why aren’t there more oldies like him, stupid speeding trucks that only threaten n do not kill n stupid old me at the right moment n right time?
Unfair, I tell you!

Scene 2:
This waking dream fulfilment wish has been with me since I have been with me...bole to since I have traversed the Mother Earth.
I am the girl next door that movies are made on.
The salwar kameez garbed seedhe saadhe kudi whom the hero bumps into n eventually takes home to his mom n never mind the vamps smouldering in the backdrop in their skimpy clothes n never mind if I don’t cook him parathe-sharathe n ghar ka khaana after that!

But now that I am no longer a girl-girl...as in married-sharried n old-shold...or rather older-sholder ho gaye...
So there’s an alteration to the hallucination.

Cut to the face-lifted scene:
I am a top writer...matlab not over the top waala but ‘Oh wow! What a top class writer she is!’ waala.
I write blogs that millions read*and that’s not the dream yet*
Somehow somewhere, there is this quiet anonymous admirer*yes, despite my stupid last post where I bashed the poor anonymous souls* who is a fanatic follower of all that I write and bowls me with his flattering comments...
I interact with him...beginning with harmless little coquettish conversations...and slowly he seems to be addicted to me!
He thinks I am the nicest person in the human race*now there I give you some semblance with reality*

Arre...don’t you dare look here n there or go to the bottom of the page...
Picture abhi baaki hain!

And then one fine day he reveals his identity to me...
He is Salman Khan...or Ranbir Kapoor...or Hrithik Roshan...
And has fallen madly, deeply, truly in love with MMMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE!

I am like no other woman he has come across*aisa mein nahi woh bolenge...mein kab apni taaref khud karte hoon?*
And he wants me to star in his film if not come into his life...
I tell him how mere paon mein baidiyaan bandhe hain...mangalsutra ki...
Er...I know gale mein bandhe hain should be more like it...but then it sounded more like a dog collar than a baide...so twisted the drama!

But somehow he comes to Kanpur with all the media*yes in Rakhi Sawaant tone...oh no the meddiyya*
And I agree to do a short film completed in ten days!
Voila...what do you know...in a month’s time I receive the National Award for Best Actress and Kareena n Priyanka n Katrina hate me coz all the eligible heroes want producers to cast me!

Ah! So there I am now again...
Being what posters are made of...what sells soaps n fans n juices...what twitters and breaks records of even Lady Gaga...what even Amit wants to act with romantically...arre, Amit bole to apna Amitabh Bachchan re!

Hehe...I guess I took Shahrukh uncle very seriously when he said...
Thoda aur wish karo!;-)

So koi oldie who is flithy...as in filthy rich n about to die...please do one kind deed before your end...inform me where you saunter about n let me oblige there with a truck taken from my father’s transport company!
Or if you are a celebrity n looking to fall in love...
Blush...blush...need I say more!

Anonymous Blogging!

I am often asked how I can be so blatantly blunt n brutally honest about stuff on my blog!
Sometimes I wonder too...
Is it because very few folks in family or friends-acquired not the through the net, actually read me?
*although I always link my posts on my Facebook page so that anyone out of the 400 odd people there can feel free to traverse down the lanes of my mind*
Or is it because on this platform I have made friends with individuals who know me through n through coz they hear/read me speak/rant my guts out about all my issues, which normally no one around me gets to?
*I actually feel no need to vent out my mind to any person once I have done it here to the laptop screen*
Or is it because all*most*of you, dear readers, have no access to my life directly and hence there is no real harm done...so I play a safe n snug game?

Whatever...
I take a long while to trust people with my feelings and opening up before them in actual life...I may do all the hee-haw’s n spend hours in mirth but never really disclose the gory details before them.
The net n blog provides me the breathing space to do so without inhibitions and with a recklessness that sometimes even I speculate on.
Like even I have my Omg moments...
Wtf!!!!!! I am mentioning the frequency of my sex life...or I am accepting that perhaps I may not be inbuilt to be an exemplary mother...or oye hoye, did I just tell the world that I have a big butt, when I could spend hours pondering on how to hide it*not literally hours there btw*!

I also wonder if I had been blogging anonymously, would I be any different.
Well, since I already mentioned the frequency...what worse...mention the poses n positions? Naaaaah...fat chance!
I already enumerated my crushes, my pangs, my desires, my anatomy...
Why the F@#% do I need anonymity when I can do all the damages being myself?

But on second thoughts...imagine the fun being anonymous...
I could mention my devious plans to seduce my object(s) of crush...
I could mention how fantasizing is good for well being...
I could be Agony Aunt...err...Agony Angel to love problems...
I could tell you how I was so good at dates*calendar waale nahi*
I could also be evil and a complete bitch for a change...
I could relate tried n tested formulas on what to do to make a man melt, literally n otherwise, that could save the world...
I could enumerate on the subtle art of evoking compliments from others...
And so much more gyan from my presumably now hypothetical world*eyes glint with devilry*

I spend so much effort n money*yup, the internet does not come for free dude* in trying to convince my dear anonymous blogger buddies to come out of the hiding...It is sometimes very frustrating to be flirting with a faceless person...to think of a blog page and screen words when you try to reminisce about a blogger!

While some have relented...others continue to play games*looking at you Bluntu with squinted eyes and wrath of a woman...okay of a cute woman*

I now enjoy beautiful friendships with a whole lot of my blogger friends on Facebook...
So thank you Pallavini, Amn, Rishi, Ria, Akshay, Achyut, Nico, Tamanna, Rahul, Bhavika, Menkah, Bikram, Hary, Persis, Lincoln, Sobhit, Amit, Ankur, Sulagna, Cathy, Saket, Shayon, Nil, Chandrakala, Vikram, Bishu, Prithwish, Sakshi, Shriti, Sayantan, Tanvi, Malpani, Smrithi and some more people I met on the blogosphere just like that and they now stand witnesses to my life in passing.
These are amazing writers, fashionistas, poets whom I get to know more each day through their statuses n pictures, besides the posts-who opened up their world to me.
*The Bald Guy n Bluntu...you don’t get counted in this list n you know why...but you do get counted in being two of my favourite writers n someday I’d succeed in knowing how u look...haah!*
Imagine my plight of may be someday just walking down your hometowns n passing you guys by...
You’d recognize me n I’ll not know that you were there*ahh...matlab no time to doll up to look delicious or at least act as one!*

I am still pondering upon anonymous blogging and its benefits though...
You can be downright dirty, mad, scheming, outrageous, breaking social norms and no one ever knows...
But then why tell the link to those who might know n judge?
Or better still, let them judge.
This is your space n you chose how to be...if they don’t like it, let them sit on the middle finger n spin!

It is better to reveal as you are instead of letting them live in a supposition of how you think they should discern you.
Imagine the burden of existing in apprehensions of them knowing the reality someday- Juggling between make-belief and the truth that is out there!

And then any sensible person who really knows you or is worth you thinking about his opinion would see through how much blabbering is just for fun, or to generate an opinion instead of the actual state of affairs.
Quoting my example, most people do not really take me seriously...like I’d say I am concerned about the growing ‘heat’ on the planet n they’d think I am making a sexual connotation instead of being genuinely hassled about global warming! Hah! Can you believe that?
Now I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad thing :-)

I don’t fear judgement... I invite it and that’s my defence!
I am like this only...take it or your loss and go for a toss!

Anyways, most writers suffer from hyper exaggeration syndrome or dramatization of descriptions...
They use words more to hide than to reveal...Hence a few writers often have disclaimers on their page.
They are smart enough to convince you of humour, when they are actually being truthful and make you cringe in their pain, when all they really want is sympathy.

So how sad it is when the humanity does not know or love you for who you are but for a phrase of URL that you project.
Is such a silent admiration really worth the effort?
Come out...say as you feel...be as you are...
And the world shall love you still the same...at least those would who are worth keeping would!

P.S. This is not a venture to get anyone out of the hiding...I love all my blogger friends whom I interact with whether they are anonymous or not...It is just a general expression of my bafflement to understand the contentment of an anonymous existence of any kind Vs a less glamorous but honest one!
The blogosphere is known for weird characters n thankfully none that I know here!

Statutory Warning:Laughing at others can be injurious to health!

Arre...don’t look at the screen with disbelief!
Yes really...it is!
Okay...lemme take you down my own memory n history lane to help you understand the true import of it!
You guys don’t really get it, till you see me ridiculed, do you?

Cut to my childhood:
I almost raised my eyebrow of disdain at my cousin who had her first baby at the age of 33...
Within my *then*limited knowledge n *then*immature brain, I presumed it was too late to be a mother...
*Oh sweet lord...why does common sense not come commonly early?*
Well...Look at me now!
All of 32, gearing to be 33 soon and just bestowed with Seeya!
*funny sense of justice haan, bhagwaan ji?*

I had this real funny neighbour with an even funnier butt!
And when I happened to walk behind her, I always amused myself with the way her left one would go up and then the right would fight to take its breathing space, like two water melons squeezed into a limited vibrating room n hence juggling to fit in!
I smirked to no end with unabashed amusement within my *then*tiny frame thinking ‘wtf is THAT following behind her?’
As I grew up, I realized much to my horror that if not water melons...there were some breed of musk melons at least developing behind my back...er...under it rather!
Don’t ask me my dread at the idea of a hot dude watching me go past with his eyes opened wide at the prospect of my so called ‘derriere’!
*If you are a “hot dude” ...kindly note, the writer here is prone to bouts of exaggeration n in reality ‘things’ don’t LOOK as bad as they are made to be*


Damn you Kareena Kapoor and some Kim ‘with-a-weird-surname’ for your super sexy bottoms that makes all the rest of us so pressurized that we often sit over it for hours...literally n otherwise!
Whoa...do u think names that begin with K lead by default to super sexy butts? How about Kuruchi, then...?
Naaaaah...will manage with whatever’s there of mine to turn heads...for whatever reasons!

I have always been super n magnetically prone to open my gyan ka pitaara...my generous, enlightment box*read that as the infinite grey advisory cells of my brain* for couples who spend rather limited time in the sack in doing....you know what!
Haaaaaw hai- n I would smile vainly in vanity of course!
And there would be delivered a speech on the importance of relations in bed for a happily ever after marital bliss!
Never mind if there are kids, it is the moral duty of a wife to help her man unwind*yes, you can sue me for my super duh principles and take some of these stupid grey cells as the penalty*
For cut to now...our browbeaten average in one month of having a baby has dipped worse than any sen‘sex’ crash!
I am not complaining though...but you can imagine who is doing so n that too big time with all the drama attached!
*if only someone had told me to keep my gap shut when it was most needed! Sigh!*

I used to be a snooty, judgemental bitch of kinds when I would see ill-mannered toddlers with their parents who’d provide the child with anything he demanded, just because he’d raise his voice to a scream or modulate it into a dramatic cry for it, even though there was no hint of any actual tear being formed! ‘What spoilt brats! Mom n dad ne kuch nahi sikhaya lagta hain’-my mind would reverberate...

And now, my dear Seeya is my all time test of patience n perseverance...
For when she wants something that is not handed over with complete obeisance to her....there is a thunder war cry like rolling of drums to proclaim the wrath of the heavens!
If she screams back at me...I consider it less painful to hand over the object of dispute than to give her a moral lecture on why she should not have it!
*thinking of course that there’s a lifetime left for that...let me survive first to manage it eventually!*

I once laughed my guts out when I saw a man toppling over on a scooter because he was maaro-ing style to screech it to a halt to impress a couple of prospective flirt interests in teeny weenie clothes!
I have mentioned this before and let me not leave another chance of self humiliation...how in my days of thunder*read that as when I was unmarried...any reference to me being super hot or sexy is coincidental and the writer takes no liability for it*...
Okay...so I fell in a ditch of the busiest street of my town, with a thud louder than the thunder, when it was pouring cats n dogs n even the rest of their families, right in front of two hot objects of my desire*in masculine gender of course*
Thadham I went into an open main hole, half floating in dirty water, with these two idiots of human forms laughing their guts out instead of being chivalrous enough to lend a helping hand and start a love story!
Anyways...my toss became their loss!

So I guess point made...
Next time, you feel the urge to spread the corners of your mouth into a monkey grin at someone else’s cost...please do remember that there is someone up there watching, as though He has no other work in this world n He’s got a funny sense of humour to get back to you in a way that would make you go ‘ouch!’

Issued in public interest!
Suruchi! :-)