From my mahaan random sense of Observation n Understanding!

Here’s a collection of some random mad thoughts that have occurred to my great mind in routine observation n experience. If anyone benefits by these, the owner takes no liability for it n any resemblance to sense is purely coincidental n not intentional!

First love is the hardest to give up...
Unless you get married to him, that is!

Men mentally undress women...
Women, mentally post-mortem them!

You don’t need to throw away the knives of the kitchens...
I may be super sharp...but I don’t cut!

There are two ways of doing something...
Do it my way or let someone else do it!

I was not born with a silver spoon in my mouth...
Damn it mom, you could have at least swallowed some utensil to give me a kick start in more ways than one!

When most men are “checking” out a potential chick...
They are also “cheque-ing” her out!

All relations should come with a ‘mute’ button setting and also the Facebook’s ‘invisible mode’ when you are for too long at the receiving end!

They say ‘Dance like no one’s watching’...wtf!
Then how would we know the difference between the loo n the dance floor?

‘We live only once’...
Thank the lord for THAT!

I have yet to see a man who matches my standards...
I have now stopped seeing...Better blind than never!

Most men like to listen...
To their own voices, that is!

Try yourself...you can never be too stupid, too trusting n too dependent!
You are bound to break your own record, time and again!

Making love requires lesser effort than making money
And derives better dividends!

It takes just a little something to shift focus from “life rocks” to “life sucks” and vice versa!

There is nothing sexier than a short skirt on a hot woman...
Yeah, read it right... “nothing” is sexier than even a short skirt!

Our ancestors were monkeys...
Would that explain why we chatter so much or why we grin without reasons sometimes or why we imitate?

I don’t believe in love at first sight....
Neither in love at first night!

‘And they lived happily ever after’...but after “what”?

The most sure shot first flirt line researched and concluded is:
“You have beautiful lips”.
What a mouth-watering way to open something!

The grapes are never sour...
They just aren’t worth it...when there are bananas n oranges n a plethora of other options available!

When I was a little child, I had big dreams and many aspirations...
Now I am a bigger and I remain that child still!

A funny line a man could say to a woman in bed:
“Make effort not an excuse”
A funny retort back:
“Make love with what’s defused?”

Since my skin is as smooth as butter...
I prefer men as sharp as knives!

A lonely woman’s mail to Santa:
Dear Santa,
Please don’t be the only man
To “come” to me at Christmas...
And “give” just gifts...
And “do” only ho ho...
And get stuck “in” the chimney instead of better places!

‘Dream a little dream for me’...
Ya rite...coz I have better things to do with my night!

Never trust a secretary that says: “What’s up?”
And a boss who replies: “Get down to it!”

P.S. Sorry to all my blogger friends...haven’t been able to read your amazing blogs or comment on them...or even on my own comment box.
Winters is keeping Seeya’s health on a see-saw n me on toes. Hopefully would soon be back in action!

Blanket blah-blah!

December and the freezing cold climate has kinda frozen my imagination or rather added sparks to its multi-faceted dimensions*still in the process of deciding which phenomenon is occurring really.
Work is process...watch this space*
I seem to be looking alluringly, greedily, almost lustily at
....
.......
............
My double bed blanket!
This after the fact that I just need five hours of sleep a day to keep me the way that I am but winters stretch that susceptible to availability of leisure n pleasure.

I mean is there anything cosier to venture into than a jumbo sized, satin draped, frilly infringed, quilted warm n soothing blanket?*for accurate conclusions here please rest your double toned minds otherwise what do you think “I” could not think of cosier things;-)*

Ladies n gentlemen, boys n gals,
Let me proudly introduce you here to my very own Mr Big blanket.
If extended to its full length n breadth, it would cover the entire bed space.
It is chocolaty brown n golden beige in colour...double fibre quilted with delicate velvet flowers embroidered in blocks.
I got it in my wedding from my dear parents who thought the idea of gifting a ‘single’ huge blanket would foster quicker relations between their coy daughter n shy son-in-law...hehehoho*devilish laughter*!
Little did they know that the duo in question need to blanket up the desires instead of fanning them with such casing notions!

But after the flames have simmered and it is time to rest in peace...The poor blanket then becomes a sort of bone of contention-A little (e)state over which two countries seem to be fighting like cats n dogs, being very careful not to tear the bone into shreds.

For the first year we behaved like newly-weds are supposed to behave.
We slept in this one blanket...within grasping reach of each other or subconsciously perhaps, neither of us was willing to sacrifice the prospect of giving up on this leisure cloud to settle for ordinary mortals...er...blankets.
With the passing years though, soon at night this would inevitably lead to a tug of war.
My dear beloved has a very annoying habit of wanting something to be kept under his legs while he sojourns into the exotic land of sleep.
And when my own legs*god help the poor souls*are not available to be crushed under the towering masses...two poor pillows on either side have to bear the brunt.

Actually to think of it now...sounds like Seeya needing two cushioned bolsters on either side of her crib when she is put to sleep to prevent her from bumping or falling.
But then what is my G afraid of-falling?
Anyways, me being too afraid of his “falling into” me...I let him torture the poor pillows so that all three of them can live happily ever after till it is wakey-wakey time again.

Actually to think of it now again a second time...reminds me of this ad of some Cadbury balls where this guy assumes in a thought bubble, having a girl on one side when he puts a pillow under one leg and then turns to take a karvat on the other pillow and another laddoo “footos” in his head assuming a threesome*that’s also me assuming by the way*...
Knowing G...quite possible!

Anyways...where were we again?
Ah...the tug of war at night!
So there was this one big blanket covering two big bodies*of G n me* and two big pillows in between. Not to mention G’s legs going high up n spreading like ‘a horse about to gallop over a rod’ position through most of the night and hence me being the Bharatiya abla naari...sufficing with whatever little space he would leave me with!
Eventually I only had to give the balidan...
I settled for a normal single fibre sad looking thing given by my mom-in-law...
I tell you the things bahus have to suffer still!
N every night I would get a few minutes into Mr Big n till my beloved’s bed was warm enough*if we translate that in Hindi, it sounds so gross...so I’ll refrain in public interest* n we cuddled enough to not lead to anything further...I would sneak back to my cold side of the bed. Tch, tch!

So like I mentioned in the last post...come December, I would almost wait for G’s touring, to trespass on that big thing without being prosecuted.
I would wriggle into n pat Mr. Big then, feeling the unabashed pride of having him all to myself.
I am not exaggerating...this blanket keeps so you comfortably warm that even if you sneaked in without clothes you’d feel well wrapped.
The offer is not open to demonstration so let me burst any thought bubble that may have surfaced.

Er...what is the purpose of this post again?
1. Just introducing you to a very special part of my winter life!
2. Mentioning the prospects of a good, healthy, in the sack life thanks to a good n robust blanket.
3. Sharing with you the disadvantages of being too magnanimous in your abla naari role n hence living shivering ever after.
4. Making a general plea to do good to humanity by giving me a cuddle now...blanket na sahi, friends to hain ek warm group hug ke liye.
Time to sneak in again...before Seeya pulls me out of it or gets into it for a feel too...somethings I tell you, they just don't change!

I miss You December!

Christmas is round the corner and this Christmas is making me kinda nostalgic.
From the last ten years, December has been a month that I spend in indulging n self pampering because my beloved is heavily touring during most of the peak winters*yes, I do wonder at his sense of timing too*.

December is the month then, when I would go out for coffee with friends...shop at the onset of “sale” across the counters...spend more time than usual with my students n get connected.
It also marks nights of me loving me.

I take out my double bed*got in dahej waale* soft satin cosy blanket and dig deep into it at the stroke of nine-ish each night for everyone would know her husband is not in town so she’ll retire early for the day.
I would have already checked in the morning in the newspapers*yes, that was THE only reason why I read them* what flicks would show on HBO or Star Movies*the only reason I view the idiot box* or if nothing suited my taste...get DVD’s of what did.
And from 9-11 n then again 11-1 n sometimes in sheer madness 1-3...I would sit before the television screen watching mush or suspense or simply nonsensical comedies.
I would even try semi horror is desperation days and then spend the last hour before falling into slumber in checking if someone is peeping from the other end of the bed or not.

There would be a big bowl of Act 2 popcorn or Lays chips sometimes*yes, the secret of me being in the shape that I am, is finally out ladies n gentlemen*...
Or a plateful of Maggie with Diet Coke loaded with ice*er..diet coz I would be on a supposed “diet”*
The lights would be dimmed...
There would also be my laptop on one side of the bed to write some blog post in case I feel inspired or to chat up with some lonely soul on Facebook after splashing all my madness on statuses.
Whoa...I would even do stupid quizes like ‘How sexy is your name?’ ‘When would you die?’ ‘What is your true calling?’ along with other insanities n even publish them to display how in need of a life I was!

A phone on one end*to yack with friends in case the ears n mouth felt too left out of the action while the eyes gulping down all the glory*...
The mobile on the other*btw conversing on sms when you get 500 msgs per day free is a great deterent to normal human social behaviour*...
A remote on my lap...for a CD playing in the backdrop...or visions appearing exotically on the screen...
I was almost a techie...hehe...well, almost!

N then at the day’s end*or rather the night’s* I would slowly cuddle up my own self n slide into a warm bed...missing my G a bit but feeling the ultimate pleasure of a week night well spent. It would be quite a contrary mood if the week day was substituted by a weekend n I’d be alone in the four walls then and in the mood of “life’s-not-fair”.

And often than never Life takes such a turn!
It’s been over five months of having Seeya.
One year now of she being on this planet!
No movies watched on the television during all these months of her sauntering into our lives.
Just four movies caught in the theatre*we watched a movie every Sunday n also during the weekdays if there were choices available...n now the average of one movie a month...tch, tch...ghor kalyug*
We have left Seeya alone just one night in five months for a party n two nights*half night actually* to watch two out of the four movies mentioned above.

Why am I relating all this here?
Coz December does not feel like December anymore...
No more bothered about how to look hot at the New year’s bash as I am so bothered round the clock about how to keep Seeya warm each moment.
No longer cuddling into the quilt but getting out of it every hour through the night to settle her layers in the crib, when she moans in sleep, to check if all is okay, feed her and make her cosy again.

No more luxury of taking steam baths at gym or sitting and frittering away time in the sun reading a best seller doing the rounds.
No more wearing new nail paints and watching them take their time to dry.
No more changing earrings to match with an outfit while going out or bothering to complement my purse to let it also breathe in fresh air out of the cupboard.

Yes, December has made me nostalgic!
December this year is not the same.
If you hear my sigh...I don’t know if I also ought to make you watch me hold my hand to my heart when she smiles n starts a new drama of her own.
I miss the stars on the screen or the narratives of authors opening the portals of my vivid imagination...
But then my little star twinkles a bit longer and suddenly the galaxy seems lit enough for now!:-)
But yes, good old days...
Often we do not realize how good a life we had till it swishes out of our hands for good!
Often we do not realize how good a life we are leading at present, till it also would swish out of our hand some day!

A Question that needs answers

What I am going to relate here is based on a true curious case that a very dear friend of mine is going through.
My aim in this narration is not just to come to a solution for him but also to perhaps seek larger answers that might help someone else in a similar situation. I have often maintained that the internet is a very dirty place to be in and this is another validation for the same.
Also dear friend, this in no way is an attempt to seek any kind of mileage through your misery.
It is in your greater interest and also my attempt to ask my wise readers if I have rightly or wrongly guided n guarded you in this case.

My friend *let’s call him Atul* comes from a largely traditional family...you may even call them orthodox and of the old school.
He is a young boy in his early twenties living in old Delhi. He is simple, god-fearing, homely and extremely gullible for he is good with others and naively believes everything in the world is basically n essentially nice. He has just this year started his career which looks promising owing to the fact that he is very dedicated, honest n hard working.

Atul is also a bit of an introvert.
I am surprised how I was allowed to let in on his confidence for he hardly mingles much even with a handful of his friends, let alone random strangers on the net. I got in touch with him through his blog n it’s been more than a good one year since we have been kinda best of friends.
I was the only second person he had added on his Facebook friends list whom he did not know personally after another guy-friend who shares similar interests with him, as he is a musician n Atul learns n practices music himself.
He is like a kid brother whom I feel very protective of for he is so out of the way nice that it is easy for others to take advantage of him.

A few months back Atul made a big disclosure to me.
He had been troubled often by some “problem” that he would refuse to discuss and after a lot of pestering I would give up for not wanting to invade his private space*though he himself would admit that he has no reserves with me*

Atul wrote a long mail to me in all his simplicity, for he felt he had no courage to tell this to me over the phone and since we are separated by many states, it is impossible to meet him to discuss what had been gnawing his mind.

Atul revealed to me that he might be a bisexual or perhaps gay.
I was shocked...not because I have any reservations against a person’s sexual preferences...but because someone who has never had much of an exposure to the outside world, would so emphatically come to this conclusion that he just might be different from the other boys. He has never been in any relationship, is shy of girls and boys both, let alone be in an intimate situation with anyone. But rather than arguing as to how he knows it so decidedly, I chose to first make him come to terms with it*I know my fault therein*.

He said he felt it was a "curse" and he had often cried about it alone at night and felt like running away to an unknown place.
He had not disclosed this to anyone out of fear of social malice n was almost certain that I would stop communicating with him after this revelation.
I was aghast at this ridiculous assumption!
I mean in this century and in these times...someone could still feel like THAT!
It is not a curse...it is not AIDS*n even if it was*...it is not contagious...it is not devilry or treachery!
Why the f@#% would I want to break my friendship with you because of what or whom you might like to get intimate with, in your personal space?

It took a huge amount of conviction from my end to make him feel that it was normal. If he felt like that, he should come to terms with it instead of burying himself in shame, though he would have to put up a facade before the social backdrop he came from, as they would never accept it. But that does not mean he should stop being what he was. Well I said a whole lot more...which is a separate issue altogether.
After hours and days of reasoning...he felt at peace in being who he was instead of cringing at the mere thought*I should have then only realized that something was wrong but I was more to comfort him than reason with him then*
But surely he knew what he wanted.

Then last month then came another news.
He told me he was going on a ten days trip with the foreigner friend of his who was coming to India and wanted to travel around.
Atul had mentioned this very dear friend*his first internet connect* on many occasions and how having similar interests as his, Atul was taught much by this friend, let’s name him Justin.

The moment Atul said he was going away alone with Justin, is when the thunderbolt struck me.
Atul n Justin were in a relationship.
N me being me, I confronted Atul full on and asked if my suspicions were true.
Reluctantly, he agreed that they were.
There was more than just friendship.

My dilemma now is that I am thoroughly convinced that Atul is absolutely straight.
He has no gay-ish or bisexual tendencies what-so-ever.
He has been convinced by Justin with whom he has been communicating on Skype, etc through the last two years that there is more than just friendship in this case.

Justin came in Atul’s life, when he had no friends and no social life really. Justin is older, in his mid thirties, a confirmed bisexual, been in many relationships and virtually jobless for he works only when he gets assignments.
Hence he was always online for Atul to feel Justin was the friend in need n indeed.
Atul avoided Justin’s initial advances and even expressed the impossibility of the situation.
But Justin was no new bird to be fooled by chaff.
He loomed around, long enough n persuasive enough to slowly impress upon the vulnerable sensibilities of my dear friend.
He showered attention n affection on this innocent soul when he struggled to fight that void in his life and soon got led into the belief that they were meant to be together.

Atul is a conformist of the ideology that says there can be only one special someone in life and of course he is now assured that he has found that someone.
So torn between his family’s pressures to get married to a suitable girl of his community and his desire to escape, he accepted the proposal of a get-away and even got his super simple family convinced that they should let him have one trip to live his life before he gets churned by the domesticity of a nuptial knot.

He has confronted me with the information of his travelling partner after many of the arrangements already done. His parents have given a nod since his son has never asked for anything before and they feel that perhaps this might help him come out of his shell. They probably have never even heard of the “ridiculous” idea that a boy can fall in love with another boy. His elder brother is apprehensive but I am sure he feels extremely awkward about mentioning it directly to him.

I have told Atul a firm NO from my side for the trip.
I feel that he is being used by his so-called friend and Atul has a 100% chance of leading a “normal” life if he does not allow this deviation to cross his path.
Justin being a whole lot more experienced knows how to get young boys to believe that this is a soul mate thingy.

Even if his feelings are genuine, he’s been with scores of people before.
On the internet we show others only what we want them to see!
We don’t know what diseases or drugs he is bringing on board.
We know that Atul is not strong enough to resist his advances and being in closed rooms of hotels with him for ten days is like walking ahead on the axe.
His family would never accept his living with another boy, so there is no future in this what-so-ever.
And he is so morally sound n family rooted, that he would not be able to live with the idea of his family resenting him for anything.

If he goes for this trip, I fear he would return even more confused about his sexuality. It could mar his susceptible mind for good.
It might spoil his chances of trusting again.
He has had crushes on girls through college life, though never had the guts to approach anyone even for basic friendship.
He has not been attracted to any other boy except Justin.
Justin could be with boys whomever he likes...Atul is just a virginal, pure soul that is difficult to find in the modern times and hence the attraction there.
Atul has already given his consent to his parents to look for a match for him, partly due to which they agreed to send him on the trip.

Please tell me if I am over reacting or over fearing for this dear friend.
Please tell me if this trip scheduled in January would actually do him good and I should just shut up?

You!

A harried morning and a rude awakening...
The skirmish with cold, biting wind,
The empty coffee-jar manifesting my hollowness...
Even biscuits turning away to go soggy,
The water not running n the head still groggy,
The dependent baby wailing
And the dust laden railings
All needing attention urgently
All glaring demandingly...
And in between it all...
YOU!

Work deadlines bulldozing the rising waves of living
The clock scampering too fast,
The same drab clothes in the wardrobe
The glum n lumpy almost synonymous bag!
The mirror telling me to stop and breathe,
Invisible reflections of better days appear mockingly.
A wry smile n worried lines few,
The eyebrow not done, n a shampoo over due...
N yet after this all...
YOU!

The world pointing fingers
Expectations turning to dust,
Self introspection getting nastier
And games of people dirtier,
When one wonders at the sagacity of it all...
Wonders what one did wrong.
Futile searches numbing the senses
When the all pervading fake gets nauseating,
A million questions, a zillion confusions,
And only rising in it all
YOU!

When faith becomes just a word,
When perseverance a test
When laughter an illusion
When emotions get meshed
When I analyse should I go on or just give up?

YOU rise from among the ashes, with zest you ooze
Like a Phoenix raising its engulfing wings to soothe!

You grip my hand firmly just when I am about to gaffe,
You wipe that tear just when it is about to blur my vision.
You tell me it will be okay, when you know it is beyond repair
You show me the ways of hope when I languish in despair.
You hold me tight, you treat me right, you teach me to fight.
You give me smiles, just when I am about to lose them to the infinite.
You guide n lecture...worse than a parson, cause you get me so convinced
You make me realize time n again
That my life is worthwhile...

YOU MAKE MY LIFE WORTHWHILE!

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!