Sunday, June 24, 2007


Fifth. That was the fifth cup of espresso I was having. Never before was I so dependent on espresso for relieving my rampant thoughts! Fifth? I never had so much espresso in my entire life in one take. That too within interval of 15 minutes! It soothed me. Really. The strong and hot effect made my head clear of all the thoughts and soothed the churning effects I was having in my stomach from the past one-hour.

I was waiting. Waiting since the past hour. The jukebox was luckily playing some really delightful songs. End of Stairway to heaven start of Hotel California.

On my left was this couple canoodling from what seemed like ages!! Holding hands, staring at each other the same way I was to my seat in front of me, but I was sans emotions. An elderly woman was on my right. There was this peculiarity about her that I noticed. There were freckles on her skin but instead of marring her beauty they made her beautiful! Otherwise the café was empty apart from the workers. I asked for a sixth cup. The attendant eyed me as if eyeing a drug addict who was going on asking for another sniff!! What is it to do with him? He’s here only for doing his work. He went towards the café counter and placed the order. Even the man there saw me as if there was some zombie sitting in front of him and asking him to grant his blood so that I could drink his blood. No I want coffee!!!

He came in. Eyes. It was his eyes I saw first. There was something in them. Something I was desperate to know and he was desperate to tell. My brother? I never saw him like this!

“It’s raining pretty bad outside” he said.
“Oh, I didn’t notice actually. Now tell me. I have been waiting here for one hour.”
“Six? You had six espressos?”
“That’s unimportant. Talk.”
“I did it again”
“Stop the time”
“No one can stop time. No one. So just don’t kid. Tell me what’s wrong?”
“I can and I did. I really did. It’s impossible to believe but its true.”
“Ok. If you have called me here to tell me this crap I am leaving. Is this some kind of sick joke you wanna play?”
“I am serious. Damn serious. You will have to believe me. Please. Its only you who can help me.”
“What help do you want from me? I can’t do anything for this. Really.”
“See only you know about this. And I can’t possibly tell anyone.”
“So what do you want from me?”
“Nothing just get me rid of this power.”
“By taking it.”
“You sound like some prophet. This is all nincompoop and I am believing you.”
“Coz you have to. It does contain some truth.”
“Go on.”
“See, either you take it or help me destroy it.”
“Ok. I won’t take it but I can help destroy it. Tell me how”
“Just stop dreaming.”
“Pinch yourself you are dreaming. Just stop it.”
“No I am not. I am not dreaming.”
“I am telling you. I stopped time when you were dreaming and I entered your dream. This is why the dream isn’t ending. Now I have released time. All you have to do is break the dream. When you break your dream, you will return to the place where you were sleeping and I will be a free bird.”
“But why the hell did you have to enter my dream?”
“I don’t have an answer for that.””Ok can I pinch myself now? By the way where am I when I am seeing this dream?”
I pinch myself and wake up to find myself in Barista. And how? Sleepy eyed. It takes time for me to remember why I was here. Oh yes my brother. I am here to meet him. I see in front of me are five espressos. Huh???? How did I manage to SLEEP after having espressos?
He enters.
“Hey look at your eyes. Have you been sleeping all the while??”
“Didn’t you tell me you had powers of stopping the time? You had entered my dream.”
“Jeez!! U have gone nuts. What are you talking about? I am here to discuss my project on time management with you dear!!”
“Time management? Same thing.”

The irony of thoughts

‘Another bastion of male chauvinism’, I thought seeing the man seated on the seat reserved for ladies only. Couldn’t he have the courtesy to stand up and offer me a seat even though I was standing besides him? I couldn’t possibly tell him to stand up and offer me a seat.

First of all I hate traveling by bus and secondly that too in a male crowded bus where it is impossible to avoid their gazes and the disgusting smell of armpits. Thinking of all the sadistic pleasure I could derive by slapping him on his face and making him the cynosure of embarrassment in this bus, I pursued my journey.

On my return journey the same day the damned thing happened again. This time I didn’t stand besides the man but right in front of him hoping that he would offer me the seat.

My haplessness doesn’t end up here. That day while I was walking back from my classes towards the bus stop, the whole sole of my shoe came off. I had to fill them in my already bulging bag. Coz of this the hot floor of the bus made it unbearable to stand. There was a boy, much resembling to teenage urchin who was gazing at me since the time I was in the bus.

Suddenly this feeling of insecurity gripped me. Just as I thought of going somewhere else and stand he said not to me but to the man who was sitting on the ladies seat, “ chalo utho bhai ye ladies seat hai.” And then turned towards me and said,”aap baithiye na”.

I reluctantly agreed since I thought I didn’t need his favor. His modesty didn’t end. When he got a seat and was barely seated for 5min he got up and offered his seat to an old lady who had just got in. I realised after all not all of the male crowd are chauvinists or MAYBE my bare foot had aroused modesty in him!!!

P.S. Based upon my true story..he he...not fiction...


The thunder strikes….
The lightning bolts….
I do fear them…
Then it rains…
The pleasant and cool water…
There are no inhibitions left now…

I love rains. For the ecstasy and bliss it brings in our minds. The first rain-always mesmerizing. The cool showers seem to be like some blessing to the parched earth!! The aromatic zephyr of the wet mud!!! Even a Calvin Klein can be put to shame!!
I hate rains. For the disgust it brings out in me after the sight of those puddles, after the sight of those overflowing gutters!!

I love rains. For the nostalgic ambrosia it creates. The sweet and wet memories of childhood- getting wet in the first rains, playing in the mud until we became unrecognizable, displaying to our buddies our new set of brolly, new gumboots, et al.
I hate rains. For the sadness it brought around when it ended- no getting wet, no cool mud therapy, no splashing of water on way back home…

I love rains. For those lip smacking, worth-dying-for and hot bhajiyas and maize that you get to devour as you sit in your balcony with the special someone and behold the droplets falling from heaven and try to catch them and play with them!!! So very halcyon!!
I hate rains. For it brings an end to the mango season!! How you used to lick your elbow?? Oh mango-thy taste-utterly delicious!! Thy departure makes my heart cry out!!

I love rains. For you get the privilege of those endless holidays. Lethargy, languor, lazing around, a novel in one hand and a cuppa steamy tea in other!! Heaven. Just awesome!
I hate rains. For it brings havoc and holocaust to so many people’s lives, demolishing their homes, families…. While we were lazing around.

I love rains. For those rhythmic and romantic songs they play on the ghetto busters. Just a beautiful treat to your ears, they strike a chord with your heart…
I hate rains. For those horrendous lightning and thunder which make me shrink with fear. In the murkiness of the hours, my heart skips a beat as the rains splash.

I love rains. For they give me opportunities of those hot and steamy baths….I love the rainy evenings, love the harbinger of rains-cuckoo and lastly I love it coz right now its giving me food for writing…

On Being A Sleepoholic

DISCLAIMER: Insomniacs better don’t even glance at this!! Aha!! Someone’s turning green with J!!!

Ip ip ip!!!! That’s invented by me- SLEEPOHOLIC, cool na?? Now all ya sleep lovers can call yourself this!! Geeee I’m loving this word!!! Nothing can compare the satisfaction you derive on just beholding those soft and mushy bed, cozy blankets, and fluffy pillows*. Hmmmm heaven!!!

*Ooohh.. Those are the best. They give the hallucination- as if I have rested myself on the lap of cloud. Quiet poetic na?? Aha!! Can’t help it. Jus’ accentuating my literary skills!!!

And ya how can you ignore the company of those furry toys ha?? *

*Don’t ya gals love those teddy bears and giraffes ha??

I am in love. With sleep!! Sometimes it so happens that I am thinking and pondering ‘bout it-the whole day- beds, sheets and pillows constitute my reveries!! I completely love myself picturing all curled up in a blanket. Remember the famous dialogue by SRK *- I wish I had 48 hrs. in a day!! The only difference is I need them for sleep. Not for work!

*Is there anything called as sleepophobia?? He sleeps only for 3 hrs.!!

I have this recognition in my family of sleeping anytime, anywhere and anyhow!! Please I can’t possibly conceal my love for sleep*. There’s this thing called sleep intensities and sleep curves!!! Sleep curves measure my sleep intensity. My sleep curves and thereupon sleep intensity usually differ according to the circumstances!! Like the sleep curve achieves the zenith during studies of course!!

*I can put a 2month baby to shame!!!

What is sleep ha?? I often wonder… a subconscious state of your body?? A state when your whole body esp. eyes are put to rest? Huh?? Whatever those scientific definitions I think sleep is a necessity na?? Roti, kapda, makan aur sona!! Quite an irony na?? You jus’ can’t do without it!! (All you nay Sayers, go to hell)
I think I might have had some connection with a sleep conjurer and maybe I might have not adhered to his wishes and now he is back with vengeance- puts me to sleep anytime!! But I am loving the malediction (curse).

See people somehow success is directly related to the hours you sleep. Don’t laugh, you sillies. Read on…..
If you sleep more, evaporating all the tensions in your mind, you dream. You dream about being what you want to be in life. You dream of being rich, famous, beautiful, going to parties and blah blah blah…. Food for thought ha?? C’mon c’mon jus’ wake up and materialize your dreams!!

Okay. Before I put you guys and gals to sleep by my ‘not-so-intellectual’ theses on SLEEP wake up and listen to my crap rap. Tsk tsk. Wake up you lethargics.

Crap rap-
Call me a sleepoholic, cal me a sleepomaniac,
Call me whatever you want to,
But don’t call me an insomniac,
Coz that’s not true.

Coz I love sleep,
And it’s always deep,
One-day you’ll call me a creep,
Coz I don’t even wake up at the sound of the loudest beep

PS: I told ya it was a crap rap!! Don’t gimme a grin k??

Now adieu and my love to all you sleep penchanters!!!!

This damned summer heat; I think getting up to drink a glass of water to quench my thirst. I work hard all day. I deserve a good night’s sleep. Obviously. But the parch ness of my throat doesn’t allow me to! Damn!

As if I am the lethargy-bug-disease-stricken patient, I drag myself towards the kitchen. The not so intense light of the refrigerator blinds me but paradoxically the air has a soothing effect. This freshens me up. I drink the cold water. Bliss. My drooping eyelids open up just as a flower blooms. What?? Am I awake at this time? 6.a.m????? Hasn’t it been ages I woke up soooooo early? The message on the fable like painting reads- you have two options when you wake up, sleep and dream or get up and chase those dreams. The choice is yours………
It takes time for me to understand what the hell does that mean??? Then it takes time for me to choose what do I chose. Chase my dream, I decide. What dream??? Oh I decide to forget the oh-so-evangelical message.

I hear the birds chirping. Wow men they are better off than Madonna!! Coffee. Yup. That’s a great idea. Oh, the coffee brewing, I love that aroma. The frothy coffee. Only the sight of it makes me fresh as morning dew. I head towards the window.

Sunrise. Wow! I leap with joy. Mother nature. Isn’t she beautiful?? And here obviously I ain’t talking bout my mom. Her name is not nature (bad one??). The sky stained with the orangish colors. Pure beauty. I smell my coffee, take a sip my and swirl it round my tongue as if drinking wine. Hmmm that tang. Always makes me feel pleasant. Another cup will do.

Wasn’t this my New Year resolution? To wake up early? Yep. It feels wonderful to abide by your resolutions. Even my mom isn’t awake. Swell with pride. From now on she won’t have to waste her time waking me up. No stress to her vocal cords!! Cool, this waking up in the morning has a morphing effect on me. I should do this every day. It’s only 6.30. I can hit the gym early today. Study something (study????). And help my mom. (YES I DO THAT).

Why not start with preparing breakfast?? Won’t my mom be at a loss of words tasting the outcome of my culinary skills? What do I prepare? Parathas, upma, poha, pancakes??
Settled. Pancakes.
(After 15 minutes). They smell excellent. Ready to be put in the oven.
6.45p.m. They would be ready to attack after 15 minutes. Hmmm lip smacking. I am sure this would be the best breakfast my mom and brother might have had. 15 minutes at hand. Pick up the newspaper, I think. Settling on the beanbag I unfold it. The news: Angelina Jolie bit by a bee on her lips. Huh??? Aren’t they already pouted enough?? What should she be looking like? Still squishy and sexy or horrendous?? Michael schuh- scuhmacer-schuhmacher (uhhhh, whatever, what’s in name?) wins Ferrari. Himesh down with throat infection. Laryngitis Huh?? Wasn’t he since he was born? Next page……
“What?” I scream.
“What were you thinking?? Waking up early in the morning?” my mom teases.
“And to top it all trying your hand at cooking? Wanna see those burnt pancakes??” chuckles my brother.
“You better shut up your sweet mouth.” I reciprocate.
“Don’t ever try that again or you will end up leaving the house in flames.”

MORAL: Resolutions are meant to be broken. And burnt.


She decided to wait for him on the porch of her house, this time with a smile on her face.

Thinking of the fight they had, and he left the house fuming with fury, she felt she shouldn’t have harped on the subject.

After all, he was working like a Trojan to eke out his and his family’s living. He would wake up much earlier before her, drink tea and would head towards the farm. The farm was not a very big one. Only used for the cultivation of maize. He would sweat out every day and come back home only for lunch and dinner. The family usually didn’t have their breakfast since they couldn’t afford this luxury. Nowadays even eating two squared meals was becoming impossible. It wasn’t easy keeping the stomachs of six people fed. It would hurt a lot seeing her four children sleep without food. They wouldn’t even ask for it. Maybe they understood that their father couldn’t afford the privileges.

Water and clothing were extreme scarcity. She always used to tell him to work harder, take loans from the zamindars so that at least he could buy some tools for cultivation or ask them to provide water. Even the laborers had to be paid. He declined every time telling her if there is no enough production how will he repay his debts. But she told him to have a positive attitude and head towards the step. He did. He took loans, machinery, and cattle to help him. The rains never showed up despite his fervent litanies.

She always lamented about why the hell she married him coz she had turned down some really good marriage offers for him. He always reciprocated by,”why don’t you leave me and marry someone else?” .She would reply, who will take care of these four children. He would be speechless. His children were his greatest concern.

This time however the production was almost negligible compared to the last year, making him sink into already heavy debts that needed to be repaid. This day he came home looking very frustrated. She had cooked only dal for him. When he saw it he made a reluctant face and asked whether she couldn’t have made anything better. Her eyes devilish, she answered- bring some more money in the house and then tell me to cook dinner like raja-maharaja style. With the money you bring in the house it is impossible even to cook this dal for you. I already have sold all the jewellery I possessed. What more do you expect? Saying that she threw the dal on the floor.

Seeing her seething with rage he put on his slippers to go out. Where are you going now, she asked. That doesn’t concern you, he replied without looking at her. She didn’t care.

After that she realized she shouldn’t have behaved this way. He comes home to find solace and I treat him like some servant. She carefully opened the tin of bajra flour and made aromatic rotis and served them with ghee and mango pickle even though those were the last things that had filled her tins.
She decided to wait for him on the porch, this time with a smile on her face. Two men came running towards her. She recognized them as the laborers who worked in his field. They said, “he suicided. The police found his body near the village tank.”


Much to her agony, she didn’t mind lighting a cigarette, as the newspaper boy stood at the window of her car, begging her to buy a newspaper with awestruck eyes. She blew the puff of the smoke on him indicating him to run off.

She almost broke the horn honking it, thinking why couldn’t Mumbai have better infrastructural facilities.

The nostalgia of her childhood days in mahabaleshwar filled her. Oh what were those days! After coming back from the school she and her sister and friends would gleefully run off to the strawberry orchards and relished them till their stomachs began to ache! The strawberries assumed a different tang altogether when stolen. They would wander around the market buying imlis and would love to make the ittt sound with their tongue, eat the hot chanas et al

But the most she would become ecstatic about the monthly melas. She would wait eagerly to sit on the giant wheel so that she would beheld the magic of mahabaleshwar-the temples depicting the history of the years gone by, the mountains that would speak to the clouds, the waterfalls that were like blessings, the beautiful sunset and its shade which made her think that even god loves to color and the greenery that was the replica of heaven. And after that she would enjoy the dizziness and the whimsical feel of it.

Unfortunately or fortunately, her family moved to Mumbai, because of her dad’s transfer. The transfer bought in ‘the-raking-in-moolah’ lifestyle, the usual drinking of the high-class people and the dull and botox natured kitty parties. But somewhere this girl wished she could go to the same melas, wear those frilly frocks, lick the strawberry pulp that would run down her elbow, sleep on the green grasses and wake up to see the enticing dews that could reflect the entire ambience in it, watch the butterflies leave their colors when they sat on her finger tips, hear the humorous stories her grandpa told her till there were tears in her lachrymal glands and the horror ones at which she would get goose bumps and would cling to her grandpa the entire night!

The horn blowed from the back jerking her back to the reality. She drove her way to the Alzheimer’s home where her mother was admitted from the past 5 years. She thought it to be a good talisman that the doctors had told her that the disease was hereditary whereas she could remember everything about her childhood. She entered in and said to the receptionist-ROOM NO.302. I HAVE TO MEET MY MOTHER SHEILA RAMAKANT. The receptionist replied- “uh….. Ma’am you attended her funeral two weeks ago.”

The infatuated crush

My memory takes me back to one of those days I experienced puppy love. I went to live at my granny’s new house for a weekend.

The house was beautiful, spacious and overlook a garden and another building. When I arrived my cousins where not at home. I decided to read the novel I had brought. I sat comfortably on the beanbag at the balcony.

After an hour of strenuous and engrossed reading, I thought of resting my vitreous humor. I gazed at the front balcony of the apartment right in front of ours.

There he was on the treadmill. Sweat dripping down his muscular strong sinewy arms.
Tall, dark and handsome. 6 feet I suppose. Ruffled hair. Perfect. I could hear hips don’t lie in the background. Cool. Our choices match.

I sat there beholding the beauty. It might have been 5 minutes or so. No answer. Usually my gazes had the boomerang effect. I used to enjoy that. But this guy was different. Here I was giving him signals and he was on his treadmill. Busy. Attitude. Maybe he belongs to the category of handsome, full of attitude and dumb guys. Maybe.

Interrupting my theses on him, my cousins called me. Next day I decided to dress myself in the best outfit I had. Jeans, I thought was perfect combined with a blue sleeveless tee. Maybe NOW he would see me with those same eyes he had avoided me.

I saw him again. Dude. Black tee, blue faded jeans. The way I usually wanted all boys to dress. He was an angel. No freckles. No crow lines on his face. I again thought of giving a try to see the possible outcomes of the “stare effect”. Zilch. I was dumbstruck. Wasn’t he a guy? Why did it hurt? Why was my heart in my mouth? Why?

“What you looking at??“ enquired one of my cousins as if sensing my disappointment. I asked her,” you know the guy who lives in front of our balcony? Why is he so prudish?” I told her bout my feelings.
“Oh that poor thing, he’s blind. Didn’t u notice?”

Sunday, June 3, 2007

The Inhibitions Of An Unhoroscopic Mind

Normally, I am not of the type who religiously adheres to the quotidian horoscopes in the newspapers. What I do sometimes is, let the whole day pass and then read them and then find out whether there was an iota of truth in it!! What happens is I inadvertently end up matching the forecast with what happened during the day!! So talking of this forecast believing thing, I believe I am an atheist when the subject happens to be horoscopes!!
People have nothing to do except reading those nincompoop dumb forecasts and follow them? Huh? And ya what about the people who write them? Mixing and matching stars and planets and moons and suns and blah blah blah!!! To hell with numerologists, palmists, and stone gurus!!! Maybe they have nothing to do or maybe they are friends with stars, no, I mean galactic stars. I have seen people frantically turning pages of newspaper until they reach their destination-TODAY’S HOROSCOPE & IF IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY TODAY (Gee, I am reminded of the song it’s your birthday). They might even not give similar importance to the morning tea!!!! You know it seems like some kind of drug addiction!! Really.
So one day what happens is my eyes meet the much-discussed-topic-above-by-me column and I shy away from it as if I am seeing into the eyes of my lover and lowering my eyelids!! And again cast my eyes on him to read what’s in them!!
Curiosity is not a sin. Remember the famous dialogue by Dumbledore??
So why not give vent to my curiosities and read my horoscope?? What say?
So it reads-LIBRA. Your work will get fragile by egoism. Relationships may get tense. Take care while traveling (Does that mean I shouldn’t get out of my house??). Get lucky with colors black and white. (Does that mean that other colors will bring hapless situations for me?). Unlucky numbers-3, 9, 8. Ok. Crap!!! There are much more in the world going on in this world which I have to catch up and here I am reading what?? Horoscopes!!!
Okay. Its time for college. What do I wear? Pink tee. My favorite color!! I hear my conscious saying ‘that’s unlucky!’ OMG. I better wear something, which is black in color!! My dear friend calls. Tells me to meet up at CCD. But I am really busy. What do I tell her? If I naysay won’t our relationship get tense? So I agree!!
So I gotta catch the bus. It arrives. No.-398. Huh!!! No ways I am catching this bus! What if an accident takes place? So do I take an auto and shell out 20rs. instead of 4rs. in the bus?? Ya that’s better!!! But traveling can lead to bad situations!!! Nevertheless I catch an auto. A fly sits on me. Oh god, what if it bites me? What if I get malaria? No, mosquitoes cause malaria! Some female anofels no anopheles mosquito causes that! Yes, I studied that in eighth standard! A fly?? A FLY frightens me???????
Merlin’s beard!!! Why are all the things falling in places?? Why am I going nuts? Why are my Mars, Jupiters, and Venuses etc acting against me? Why are they catching me up in the whirlwind of bad luck? Am I supposed to be doomed? Today? God forbid, what if something happens?? I am only 17!!!!ONLY 17!!
Phew that was a bad day!!!! Really bad! How could a mere horoscope have such effect on me? On an unhoroscopic mind. How?
But now its time to shred all my inhibitions!!! And ya I promise never ever to glance at those! @#$%^&* Horoscopes!!!! Why don’t people name them horroroscopes ha??