My Outlandish Dream!

What is life without an outlandish dream!
Here’s the most materialistic and frenzied one of mine*yaaa...one of those days when I would wish this comes true apart from all the other days when I would shudder n pray that it would not*:

I am the Princess of a big palace of infinite wishes*I can’t do with one unit of anything in life. Yup...I am born this way...so sue me!*

Let me rise from my velvet based n laced, ancient Victorian bed to take you around:
My maid-in-waiting has kept a bowl full of milk soaked rose petals for my feet to dip in, as soon as I decide to get off my feather soft bed! I raise my arms in a sort of angdai like the Hindi film actresses, which exuberates more of nakhra of fragile bones than actual unknotting of the sleepy ones!
Passing the costing-a-bomb ottoman and custom made limited edition oriental upholstery, in an ambience straight out of a chic interior decoration magazine, I move towards my bathing arena that spreads over one floor of my huge house*huge as in I often need a car to be driven around on each floor*.



‘The Bathing Ghats’ is a big, round, colourful pebble-edged pool, dipped in milk again with flower extracts for the whole of me this time.
I throw off my robe and languish in the soft feel while five women watch me in waiting *Err...watching me is not such a good idea. I’ll tell them and you to wait outside and would clap for you when needed! So shoo!*
I then stand under the waterfall of sparkling clean water, created between mounds of man-made mountains and feel all my pores open to life! The other rituals of cleaning my teeth n emitting out last night’s edible treat off my entrails or rather the butt are equally grand, but I would spare you the gory details.

I then go through my walk-in-wardrobe on the next floor, where all the clothes on the line, from Gucci to Channel and DKNY to Burberry, move past me at the behest of a remote control...with accessories matched to precision. Did I tell you about the complete bags range that Louis Vitton made exclusively for me?
I press*the remote of course* to pick out what I like!
Adorned like a million bucks, I step out into the other chambers of my castle.



Okay, the first section*let’s get over with the scandalising bit first* is my very own cute harem. I know it sounds gross, but please, please let me have it...it is only in a dream anyways and it has been my dream like forever! I have here at the press of button...anyone and everyone who would appear before my eyes for my pleasure*visual and other senses inclusive*! There are Hugh Grant, Mathew Maccoughany*whatever is his spelling now*, Ashton Kutcher, Keanu Reeves, Johnny Depp, young Robert Redford and also Ranbir Kapoor, John Abrahim, Abhishek Bachchan, Rahul Gandhi, Zaheer Khan, Roger Frederer, etc, etc...Just to add some variety and thereby spice to my life! Needless to say all of them love me as though their life depended on it!

There is of course another button whereby Enrique Iglesias, Justin Timberlake, Ronan Keating, George Michael, Mohit Chauhan, Atif Aslam and the likes rise and come out to perform*strictly musically...unless specified otherwise by me*!

After my physical pleasures are met...I move on to the physical healing!
I go into my rejuvenating spa cubical which has magical n mysterious connotations!
Here there is one room in which my wrinkles*which would come anyways only after about 15-20 years...or maybe 30-40...acha zyaada ho gaya...20-30 years* are ironed out with my blink...
Another in which I get a *more* sparkling and smooth skin...
A third which would burn all my fat*yes, ALL of it...yiyee yiyee yiyee...look what you make me do The Weirdo Guy* in seconds by merely lying down with eyes closed for five minutes and many more of the likes!



So I become 36-24-36 and emerge!
*Alright...if wishes are coming true then why not imagine 38-22-34 here!
Butt long, cascading soft hair, 5 feet 10 inches height with toned loooooooooooong legs...
Milk white n satin soft skin, almond shaped blue eyes...perfect Angelina Jolie pout...ass to die for n rack to kill for...okay, okay...even in a dream there is a control button...so I would stop at JUST these!*

I then move on to my food section. Here there are exotic delicacies from round the world*do chocolates n chowmein, McDonald’s burger n KFC, get added in the ‘exotic’ list? Don’t bother to answer...they now do!*
About a thousand options*yes, ones which don’t even look like food or could be pronounced by the tongue* can be gulped n savoured n ‘mmmmm-ed’ with zero calories added, no matter how much butter n ghee went in their making*that should make you happy The Bald Guy*



What’s next?
There are rooms where you enter and they serve as a direct link to the place you want to go to within again a blink of an eye*I love that expression...I blink my eyelids innocently and get away often with as wondrous of things*!
Okay, Europe mein backpacking...Thailand mein scuba diving...just a door away!
So if I enter the Switzerland room...no prizes for guessing, I am now in my pure fur*sorry PETA* outfit sliding down the Swiss Alps in my Cheopard sunshades!*living in a material world and I am a material girl...you know it baby*
And then I may have entered the Australian reef beaches...would you care to rub some sun tan lotion on my back?




Another room full of books...a separate room full of music...a floor each for all my relatives on the planet*of course only those whom I can bear*...a personal home-theatre*not a music system with big speakers, like my dad fooled me with, but a proper 70mm screen room*...a floor full of cars that cost a country each...my own helipad *with helicopters naturally...duh-huh?*
A floor for my own designer, chef, beautician, photographer*yup, I’d still be fixated on clicking pictures*
Ooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Now, now...the rest I would leave for your imagination!
After all you do have a fair idea by all that’s related so far!

I know this has been the most madcap, preposterous, barmy, ludicrous, bonkers, farcical*okay the thesaurus has run out of synonyms now* ride!
This is my very own wish-cube cum magic box cum timeless zone cum material bliss all rolled into one!
Too bad Mr. Mukesh Ambani stole my idea n luck to realize even a bit of it!
Phew!



Awwwww....time to get up...wash my not so perfect face...clean my not so luscious body...do up my not so lavish room...love my not so dishy*yet awesome*husband...spend my not so full purse...please my not so flattering little list of fans...

And live my almost perfect, no-complaints life!
After all dream a little dream away!

*Mush*Letter Writing!

Did you know Jawaharlal Nehru was having a torrid affair with Lady Mountbatten, the wife to the last Viceroy of British India...and Lord Mountbatten had full knowledge of it?

And also that over a period of many years, Nehru wrote a letter everyday to his lady...a suitcase filled with which was discovered eventually from her possessions!

A letter EVERY day!
My god, that is HUGE!

Imagine the sense of the feeling of holding a sheet of paper in the hand with scribbles of someone you love, the handwriting baring a familiarity and also perhaps a not-so-moist now imprint of lips that would have touched it before sealing it in the envelope...

Mails then don’t just remain sheets of papers and envelops!
Mails then contain a beating heart! The feelings and emotions of those sending it as well as those waiting with bated breath to receive it!

How I miss receiving letters delivered by the postman*other than receipts, e-notifications n reminders now*!
Thankfully, my generation still has an inkling of how it felt.

While I was growing up, I was extremely fond of purchasing cards and sending them to people, even those whom I only remotely knew, on their birthdays and anniversaries and even on New Year’s, etc.
I would write long mails to my cousins and friends who parted ways after leaving school and went to hostels.
*Sadly those tendencies still continue...I can’t write ANYTHING short!*
I still have a stack full of mails from those times, neatly and chronologically piled! When I read them...there’s a great sense of nostalgia!

I guess my writing skills were honed from the fact that I regularly would pour out all that was happening with me in these mails!
The anticipation of checking the mail box every day also reminds me of the foolish game of watching those little black birds, teeming in the surroundings and us chanting:
1 for sorrow
2 for joy
3 for letter
4 for toy/boy*depending upon the age I guess*
5 for silver
6 for gold
7 for a secret never to be told!
And you were supposed to give flying kisses to these birds while counting them to make the rule come true! Although all of us pined to spot the adventure-dipped 7...sighting any number except 1*which was mercilessly cursed*, was enough to satiate the simple hearts!

Needless to say, when I would espy 3 birds, my urge to reach home from school would become more intense, as I would be kissing weirdly through the bus window at them*thankfully the pouts were never misconstrued by those who watched this ritual being performed by every other girl moving past in school buses*

*Psst...Let me also share here how we screwed up this poor rhyme one notorious day:
1 for a hug
2 for a kiss
3 for a boyfriend, never to be missed!
4 for a love bite
5 for a sad fight
6 for flirting with few
7 for smooches just for you!
Oh yeah...we were a completely focussed bunch of teenagers!*

Coming back,
Yes, letter writing was an art...
The frustration when you would write one word wrong, spoiling the beautiful alignment of all the others...often motivated me to crumble the entire sheet into the bin and begin all over again!
The keenness of viewing your name on the envelope and following it with the guess game of who could it be from!
Writing neatly and painstakingly every word, for the reader to feel you, while he read what you wrote!
And if the envelope was scented or heavier than usual...the lub-dub of the heart beat reaching the levels of Mt. Everest!

Being impressed by the handwriting, the lucid flow, a cartoon here and there, a smiley face, the signature...it all bore immense significance, which perhaps the generations after us would not be able to experience!
You may have computer memory full of chats saved...but no paper that you just randomly pick up from the shelf and hold it close to feel how your beloved would have held that very sheet before sending it to you! And moving your fingers over the very words!
Yes, letter writing was a symbol of much romantic concoction!

I recently overheard of a letter written by the famous Romantic poet John Keats, in a movie called Bright Star! He had fallen head over heels in love with a lady called Fanny Brown, inspiring many of his immortal poetic creations! However their togetherness was short lived as Keats died an unfortunate death, succumbing to illness and in the belief that he was a failure.
The world now marvels, reads, quote his creations to soothe the burning hearts of lovers! I have jotted down here whatever I remembered of it with a few additions of my own...for love always gets me carried away!

Dear Love,
The day today is very fine...
I would have had the pleasure of enjoying it, if the remembrance of you had not weighed upon me...

Ask yourself my love,
Was it not so cruel of you to enchant me so?
To destroy my freedom?

I don’t know how to express my emotions to so fair a woman...
Find a brighter word than bright...
A fairer word than fair!

I almost wish we were butterflies...
To live but three days!
And three such wonderful days with you,
I could feel much delight than fifty common years could ever give me!

And as I write, I kiss the softest words that mark the paper here...
You kiss them too...
So I get the feeling that your lips have been where mine were...
John



Inspired by Keats...here’s a little attempt of my own*wish there was somebody to send this to also...sigh!*

Dear beloved,
It is a cruel conspiracy of eternal forces to have brought us together, made us realize how deep and fulfilling love can be and yet keep us apart!

To make us feel what true and doubt-free feelings are!
Emote the fierce emotions, we never thought existed!
Express the words, which erupt effortlessly from the unknown cores of our desires!

Had I not known you...I would have carried on in the hum drums of life believing love to be a fabrication of good writers and an outcome of pregnant imagination!
I would have continued to think of the heart as just an organ!
I would have enjoyed moments of solitude, riches of books, reaped the joys of friendships, and gloated in the pride of ornaments...all of which hold no significance or lustre now!
For now I have not a moment that is mine alone...without you!
Moments become experiences when they are marked by your presence in my thoughts and miracles when you are actually there!

It is ironic that I desire to merge into you to understand my true identity and purpose of coming into this world!
It is unfortunate that we can visualise each other all day, but the moment we reach out a hand to touch what seems so real...you are just not there!

I pine for you, but painful how so ever it is...it is also comforting!
I burn in desire and do so willingly, to re-emerge from the ashes!

I look forward to being alone not to think about you...for I do that all the while...but so that I can smile thinking about you!

Love you more than me and more than you,
Breathing till I see you again and thereafter start to live,
Yours only!

Looking for a Reason!

They say there is a reason behind everything...
Reason why India is hostile towards Pakistan and vice versa...
Reason why a baby is cranky in the middle of the night...
Reason why some marriages work and others don’t!

But then, is a reason really that important?
Must all our actions be reactions?
Must we always know the whys and hows and what fors?
Imagine a world, where we could just shut up our brains for a while, to enjoy what is coming our way?
Like they say... ‘Aam khao...gutliyan mat gino!’

How do I find a reason for these?
The feeling for wanting to be a child again!
The need to love someone 24*7 or expect to be loved back just the same!
The void I feel within just like that in the middle of a hectic day!
The urge to call up a friend, with a sinking feeling for his/her well being!
The mind being never at rest, even when the body is!
How there is an excited gut feeling for a first time meeting with one and none what so ever even after meeting many times over with another!
The tiredness that encompasses my body even before I have kept down my first step from the bed in the morning!

Even if I do find a reason, my next quest is how to explain it to my heart, get it around to accepting it with a complete consensus and get over it?
The mind nagging continues...with or without stumbling upon reasons!

How can one explain these?
Digging for logic in the smile that curls at the corners of our mouth when we see a loved one?
Why a mother is more biased towards one child than another born out of her own womb?
Why sometimes silence speaks greater volumes than words?

What can be said about the worry gripping our heart when we see someone we love in pain?
We reflect an equal amount of pain with no making even injury!
You may say, it is love....but then what is love?
That’s the biggest reason defying phenomenon of all!

Why does it take just a few seconds for it to develop and even fewer for it to be killed?
Why is it more with someone met so fleetingly and not there at all for another, even after burning the midnight oil, day in and day out with them?

What could possibly be the reason?
Why someone wants to hear someone else’s voice each day?
Why we feel a heart-ache beyond logic or convention?
What we hate in someone we hate becomes what we love in someone we love?
Then also why we get tired of the same things that we loved once?
Why we can’t believe someone can love us so much or why and how can we love someone to the point of self forgetfulness?
Why little gestures sometimes become big and huge considerations fail to impress?
Try as you may, there would be no plausible or pragmatic explanation!

Where do I find a reason for-
The act of a mother walking down a road holding the palm of her little child, shifting herself towards the road to avoid the zooming vehicles which are still a good ten steps away!
The rationale why a rich man pulls down his Mercedes car window to watch the street urchins play in the monsoon gifted street puddle!
Why we give up on time spent together to earn more money and when earned enough, we use it to buy time?

For some questions there are no answers...
It is like me asking you why the sun is so hot or the night so dark?
It is...for it is supposed to be like that!
Has been and will be!
Beyond logic or scientific analysis!
Even if we find reasons, we can’t find alterations...even if we alter everything around us to perfection...we still find something else irking the eye or boggling the senses! Then why resist? Why not succumb?

Sometimes accepting things as they are becomes the key to solving n resolving the most complicated issues!
Sometimes not taking a decision when in a dilemma is the best decision taken!
Saying I am not closing my mind’s door...if ‘this’ happens, I welcome it with open arms...if ‘that’ does, I’ll be equally convinced that something better is in store!
Sometimes reasons kill spontaneity!
Logic defies nature!
For nature tells you to just be!

It does not give logic to the little flower why it should bloom only when spring comes or reasons why mountains must remain strong even in the face of all disasters! They just do so like following a natural law!
It does not allow clouds to fret for being uprooted and carried away like the weeds and having no base to cling to!
Nature will not let snow argue with it to justify why it should lose its identity just to make someone else fuller!
It will not tell the harsh wind to blow in another direction to save its beloved!
It accepts things as it is!
It teaches us to just be as we are meant to be!
Not fight...not fret...not resist...not insist!
Go with the flow like the river...no matter how much the meandering...how many rocks to stumble on...how much slackness in its path...there is no other outcome, except to reach its destination if it just keeps moving on!



Stop asking ‘Why me?’
Start saying ‘What next?’
Stop looking for their motives...
Start searching for your motivations!

Don’t be scared of confusion...welcome it to lead to flow of thoughts...channelize it!
Don’t deny the presence of voids...attempt to fill them!

There are many things to do, to feel, to ask, to tell, to live, to show, to share, to build, to destroy, to care, to enjoy, to hold on, to give up, to celebrate, to own...
All this to be done...just for the mere “reason” that they must be!

And after my volley of questions, I am sure you have one to ask me too:
What is the sense of this post?
I don’t know!
I am still trying to find a reason!

My Childhood Goof-ups!

Okay this one goes in memory of how weird I was as a child...
That would kinda explain the way I am as an adult!
Thank you Mohit for the inspiration!

Picture this:
I am ten years old...sitting at a table in a restaurant having ordered my favourite chicken noodles soup...
I have besides me my parents, a handful of married couples and bunches of kids*yup family planning was not so much in action then or young couples my parents age were simply put-too horny*

Everyone was asked if they wanted soups and my dear papa had declined...
When my soup came...my eyes widened into little globes and mouth literally watered enough to create a farce that there can be no water scarcity till the world has me!
And my papa asked for tasting...
I scrunched my nose, took a long whiff of the aroma to make it stay with me while the bowl took a round and returned!

And I waited and waited...and waited...
Watching my father gulp down a spoonful and another and yet another...
*Just for the record, I was that kinda child, who would measure in a tray full of coke glasses which was closer to the brim or which plate looked more filled up with Maggie and then pick it up!*

So now my poor soup within the bowl was going deeper and deeper...when emptied by five spoonfuls, it was time to throw a fit!
Sitting hands folded on my chest and pouting like a kid*err...I was a kid then...anyways!*
I said firmly “Humph, I don’t want that soup...papa can have it all after saying he did not want soup!”
Everyone stopped dead at my comment n my father was red as a tomato!
Yup...I was born this dumb!

Now this is when I must be 5 years old and symptoms the symptoms were apparent till maybe 21*I know that does not categorise in “childhood” memories but my childhood got extended by a couple of decades*

This is about my mortal fear of lizards!
I just can’t stand *or even sit or lie* them!
No matter if it was my board paper the next day, I used to waste a complete hour in just looking by how many centimetres the wriggly character had budged! And if it won’t, I would scream at the top of my lungs for someone to enter the portals of my room and ‘shoo’ it out of the door! If I had to kiss a frog to turn him into Prince Charming, I could do so...but were it to be replaced by a lizzy, I’d rather never be kissed at all!



Again me in some blessed years when I was smaller*in age n width*. No matter where food was hidden I would find the way to reach it. I remember my grandma tugging the muffin box in between her clothes, in the ration shelf behind the pulses boxes, even in her undergarments drawers and I would find them, finish the contents and leave the empty box in exactly the same spot, to let her gloat for days in the belief that it is lying there untouched and safe! Till eventually we would hear a screech from her room one fine day and the theft was caught! I would have been a master at crime had those skills been aptly honed and encouraged in my tender years! Tch, what a waste!

How silly though I could get, does not really end here!
When my parents would go out for dinners n stuff, my sniffing would begin through in my mom’s cupboard too!
Now I was not a malicious or materialistic kid...just a perpetually hungry one, who seemed to think all the adults of the world have hoarded chocolates, dry fruits and the rest of the delicious sinful goodies in remote corners of their cupboards!

So I would get down to investigating, with my microscopic eyes and tong like fingers! And one day, just like that, my fingers groped upon a video cassette....

Now an ordinary kid would think that since it has been hidden in the piles of my mother’s suits, it is supposed to be untouched!

Naah! But not me!
Being all of fifteen and ALL of curious, I had to put it in the video player to realize that it was about what ‘adult’ people played when they applied the game of ‘hide and seek’ to the human body!



Ah! So this is what I am supposed to do when I grow up...I thought! Thankfully I soon got a bit scandalised and gave up on the idea of doing it all! Till of course better reasoning prevailed with maturity!

As a child I would get infatuated with every remotely interesting boy that came my way!
As a child, I would sing Michael Jackson songs holding the water pipe of our bath tub, blaring my lungs out and then suddenly switch to being a swimmer and make a dive full length in the poor 12 by 12 tub!
Needless to say, the poor tub suffered from having a big crack that never got repaired and it got transformed into a laundry basket thereafter!

As a child, I also wrote a little diary...but when it stopped being child like...I decided to stop at that too!

As children in our class rooms, we gang of girls would duck down while sitting on our school desks and take a peek n tease those behind us about the colour of undergarments they would be wearing or not be wearing at all! And then sit all glue-joined legs when we were at the receiving end!

As a child...okay a teenager, our gang would get together to make crank calls to hot looking dudes of the town! My friends were professionals at the task and would put any call centre bimbo to shame! The only time I tried it out, I was caught*I still don’t know how* and the boy ended up giving blank n crank calls to my house for months!

Again as a teenager, I was the gutsiest one in my gang and had gone to a video parlour alone to ask for a soft porn flick*this was prior to me discovering the one in my mom’s cupboard!*
That’s a different story that the parlour owner made me run for my dear life when he said, “Beta, pehle apne papa ka phone number dena...unse confirm kar loon!”

What else did I do as a kid?
Did I tell you I would pretend to be the latest n hottest actress of those times and stand before the mirror pretending to be talking to the hottest actor*yes, only talking...I was a kid then for Christ’s sake*?



Did I tell you I caught a friendly neighbour couple doing the act, one afternoon when we kids were supposed to be playing on their terrace?*I tell you some libidos*
Did I tell you I ran on the edge of a fountain pool in a public garden, thinking I was feather light and went thud into the algae infected water, much to the amusement of the throngs there?

Did I tell you I pricked a condom pack for my cousin brother’s wedding night, with a needle*although it left me miffed big time eventually as it didn’t materialize into a baby in exact nine months*?



Did I tell you...?

Oho...never mind if I did not!
These things aren’t worth telling either!
Some other time ;-)

The Sad Void of Youngsters!

Although every phase of life is beset with difficulties and its own set of issues...a sad trend is emerging in the young brigade-including teenagers to those till around 25-30 years of age and especially those who are single. One would think that getting a partner in today’s time is the simplest thing of all and just about everyone has a boyfriend/girlfriend!
Sadly it is not so!
There are too many frogs to be kissed before hitting upon the prince or princess!

The youngsters are most boggled by a sense of emptiness in their lives which they can’t put a finger on! Sometimes it is parental pressures, ambitious expectations and uncertainty of the future! Often it is lack of love or someone to share their thoughts with!
Of course it is not age binding, as the symptoms are being apparent in older generations also. However, the youngsters lacking the experience or appropriate support to handle it are getting sucked into a pathetic state of being in solitude even in a crowd!

The more I interact with those venturing into the threshold of youth, the more apparent it becomes how isolated is their existence. They have so much to say but refrain from the fear of not being understood or snubbed or laughed at! So on the surface they appear hale n hearty...but a little bit of scratching shows within a vulnerable grown-up child!

They may have friends, flashy lifestyles or good family back ups and yet somewhere down the line they are also harrowed by a gnawing sense of loneliness and a void, often a constant mind-nag that something or someone is missing!

The modern era has enabled us to communicate with a thousand people at the click of a button but not have one true soul to hear us just bare our guts out!
We may have three hundred people following us on our twitter account knowing:
-Have left for hostel!
-Mutton biryaani in lunch...mmm!
-Damn, these traffic jams!

Yet not even a handful who’d know
-That you had a pathetic fight with your parents before leaving for the hostel
-That the biryaani you may have made but have no one to accompany you to enjoy its pleasure and you shall be gulping it down alone, talking just to yourself or to a black hole called the internet.
-That while you stood there alone stranded in the traffic jam, the thought of being stuck in a life-rut drove you to the point of self destruction!

Busy schedules and just too many chores and deadlines at hand...wanting too many things too fast and then getting bored of them as easily as that....are not just the symptoms of this depressive tendency but also the factors that are preventing them from reaching out!
So it is all a viscous cycle at the end of it!
And before you know...you are whirling in a hurricane of your own emotions!

You get inclined and addicted to the first person who shows consolation and empathy towards you!
You get drawn irresistibly and addictively to any hint of empathy or understanding, isolating yourself even more from the real world!
So while our best friend may not know what’s bothering our mind...an internet buddy would not just know but also be guiding you through the mess! A puppet show, anyone? The strings slowly move out of our hands as we merely become slaves to our emotions! We feel crappy one day and happy at another for no apparent reason at all triggering them!

Everyone’s bored of just existing...
This despite that we now have at our disposal a host of technical facilities...a hundred channels on the television, the social networking sites providing you a throng of “friends” at the click of a button, mobiles to help you be tracked no matter what, blogs to vent out your deep n latent feelings and more hang outs in posh looking malls to kill time! You have the world at your feet and yet your feet refuse to budge...take you further!
What fetters are these?

And yet the boredom!
Is it justified?

Or is it the case of too much on the platter spoiling the fun out of enjoying each individually!
We are gulping down instead of relishing!
We are texting a “send to all” message instead of taking out time to spread out a sheet of paper n penning our thoughts!
We are now window shopping more than going to a favourite store to lovingly hand pick!
We prefer to sleep around instead of getting into the hassles of love...or some at the other extreme edge...keep waiting for true love so desperately that they forget to reach out altogether!

We create little cocoons to shelter us fearing too much revealed is too much putting at risk!
We show the world what they and we want them to see....not what we really are!
And hence the short-lived gratification of an achievement that is as quick to fall out as sand in the hand!

What should be done?
If we are all alone...aren’t we united then in our loneliness?

Is there a solution...a suggestion...or some help?
Or is it just a part of growing up that they must endure the hard way...be killed a little everyday...to feel alive*hypothetically* some day?

And Thus I fell!

Another one of my walk ventures, turning into misadventures...

Yup...I fell!

And I remember Shakespeare uncle’s words here in Julius Caesar:
“What a fall it was my friends!
Then not just he (here you read as-she), but you, I and the country fell”
*Well, I know that’s not an exact quote before you prepare to sue me for being an English teacher and not remembering this...helloooooooo I have better things to do than run after Shakespeare....err...better people too;-)*

Okay...so it was a fine evening!
I was oscillating between the idea of going for my signatory walk or going shopping!
And I chose the former!
Obviously a grave error of judgement!
Who the f@#$ chooses walk over shopping?
I had to pay for my sin against the reputation of women-kind and the dainty, well-manicured, well-shopped-minus-the-credit-cards fairies in the heavens were ready to show their wrath!

The weather was beautiful...frothy, cotton ball like black clouds were stretching on the horizon, Mr. Sun blanketed by them and a cool breeze was blowing transforming my little town of Kanpur into an industrialized version of Nainital!
To add to the awesome mausam was the greenery of the lush green campus of the college I walk in, just dipped clean by droplets of a shower!

So what the heck...I collected my paraphernalia!
My I-pod, my mobile, the head phones, my room key, the umbrella and all of myself...now you can imagine the burden on my not-so-tiny and yet fragile shoulders!

And I began my walk as though my life depended on it...picturing a mini romance waiting for me somewhere down any corner*I had even imagined a blog post after the events to unfold entitled “Woh Barsaat ke Ek Sham”* knowing full well, that there are greater odds of finding a dinosaur egg in that campus than a decent cute enough guy to flirt with!

Within 15 minutes, the drizzle became stronger!
The breeze seemed to be in a teasing mood instead, raising my Anarkali style kurta here and there. I was telling Indra Dev-
“Prabhu, go n woo some other apsara...
I am anyways wearing tights under my kurta!
It’s not like this is a skirt,
So stop being a flirt!”

But probably Indra Dev*is he related to Rahul Dev by any chance?* did not like my refusal to oblige...
He blew harder*it’s just the wind...don’t get excited*
And called upon his bro Megh Dev to assist in his not so decent designs!

It now began pouring n blowing and with me multi tasking in the middle of it all!
One hand holding the umbrella, tugging at my hands to join the gust...with another holding the I-pod and the key and another managing the cell phone!
Okay...error...I remember now I have just two hands...
Well, what the heck! They all assisted in the tasks...mushkil ke ghadi mein apne haath he saath dete hain...no puns intended!

In all this mess came a speeding youngster in his swanky car and whooshed past me with so much force that I had to step down the cemented road, one feet down on the muddy fringes and in between there somewhere, somehow, I slipped and fell!

Not like a thud-thud slip!
Just swish and swoosh slip!
Fell on one knee and before anybody could realize that a woman in their straight line vision suddenly went out of it and would have to lower the eye lids to find me bundled on the ground...I got up and began to saunter as though nothing happened at all!

Home was still 10 minutes away and I walked with my head held high, not even waiting to examine the damage done below till I reached home!

And when I did...
Voila...the tights which were relatively new and cost me bloody 320 bucks were gone from the knee...
It pained like the pain in the arse!
A big red patch, covering my entire knee ball had surfaced there instead and the remains of the cloth stuck to my wounds!
Was that white thing my bone actually?
Must be...there can’t be anything else possibly white, running along with my blood, no matter how pristinely white and pure my thoughts are!

OMG...I am injured...wounded...hurt!
I called my dearly beloved...
Me- Mein gir gaye:-(
My beloved- Oho...baby, is the road alright?

Grrr...I called my best friend...
Me- Mein gir gaye:-(
Best Friend- Tch, awww how did you come home?
Me*excited at the first dint of consolation*- On my own...just imagine!
BF- Oho...you should have called up the crane guys...they would have done it for free...considering you are a lighter burden than what they mostly carry!
Grrrrrrr..............

I put it up on my status on Face book:
“Mein gir gaye!”
My friends:
1. - Kiss par? Ab uske haalat kaise hain?
2. – Abhi recently they had built the campus roads...what a waste!
3. – Go in for a tetanus injection...I’ll pray the needle does not break before getting into your skin!
4. – Hopefully this would not affect your brain and you’d continue to remain....abnormal!
5. – I never thought that could happen...err...you meant physically na...mentally to we all know that’s your perpetual state!
6. –Mein Kaziranga Gaya!
7. – That can’t be the bone...that must be a layer of skin under the hypo...blah! Blah! Blah!
8. - Humpty Dumpty had a great fall!

:-(
Boo hoo...of course there were sweet responses too!
But then...
Mein Gir Gaye! :-(

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!