RANDOM THOUGHTS

Forgotten

2009-09-22T14:26:00.000+05:30

The sky burst into numerous colors displaying, amongst them, the most beautiful ones. Each of them fought with one another to be more visible and the result was an eclectic mix of all. Suddenly, as if angry by the chaos the colors were causing, the sun burst out diffusing his sunlight, erasing the kaleidoscope the hues had made. Now there was only one color, the bright yellow.

Grisha watched the sight with awe, wondering how she had missed such a sight in so many years. She still lay in her bed, with droopy eyes, a light smile on her face, thoughts encircling the many wonders of god. The sleep god invited her once more into his reign, but Grisha knew, she would miss school if she slept again. School wasn’t particularly loved by her, but such a beautiful sight today had made her so happy, that she could endure anything. And today was a very special day. It was her birthday. It was HER day.

She got out of her bed hurriedly and went straight to her parents. They hugged and wished her and her mother gave Grisha her favorite sweet. She almost gulped the entire sweet in delirium. Grisha asked if she could treat her best friends Shagun and Leela with Jalebis.

Hopping on into the bathroom, she scrubbed and cleansed herself leisurely, one thing she would usually avoid and do in haste, as though bathing today would make her more beautiful. She then saw herself in the mirror, combed her hair carefully and smiled. The village school in the village didn’t permit them to wear any other dress other than the uniform. She frowned a bit at the thought, but she had bought these flying little winged butterfly clips, a current rage in the village melas amongst the girls, and put them on. She chuckled in glee and wished she could be photographed.

Birthdays never meant so much for her until she was invited for Harish’s birthday celebration, the son of the head of the village. The entire village was invited and everyone had brought some or the other thing for Harish. From then birthdays assumed great importance. She wished she could celebrate like him. She didn’t quite understand what they were meant for, but she knew, that on birthdays, you could get whatever you wanted.

Carrying her bag, she marched her way to the school imagining her day, her friends wishing her, she handing over the toffees to them, Shagun and Leela relishing with delight, the Jalebis treated by Grisha all the while touching and adjusting her pink butterfly clips.
She almost broke into a jig, but contained herself.

As she reached the school gates, it was evident that she was late, because usually the children would have been playing outside. Her classroom was on the ground floor itself and as she reached there, she saw Masterji had already begun the lessons. She asked for permission. The master nodded in approval. And then he asked, “So children, did you do your math homework?”

The words hit upon her, sounding like heavy bricks, only they didn’t make a sound. Ten minutes later, she saw herself as the only one being beaten by a cane right on the knuckles and thrown out of the classroom. Mind was nature’s biggest chameleon. A little while ago she felt like dancing and now she didn’t want to move. She let her tears find her way, drop onto the ground and stood there till they evaporated. She had remembered, yet she had forgotten.

Clouds' Play.

2009-09-03T18:50:00.000+05:30

The clouds play,

with the sunshine,

an innocuous game,

of hide and seek,

thus,

inviting the sun's wrath,

and the sun,

in his anger,

burns them,

to pitch black,

ant then the clouds,

roar,

cry sweet tears,

leaving behind,

a seven hued,

sad smile.

SEASON OF THE BALD HEAD

2009-07-10T20:13:00.000+05:30

Weak roots,
Hair leaves,
Autumn.

An Ode

2009-07-06T23:14:00.000+05:30

We sat in the evenings, relishing tea,
Did I read you or did you read me?

And then,
On the mountains I flew,
Amidst the clouds I grew,
In the valleys I slept,
By the rivers I wept.

In beautiful kingdoms I stayed,
With unicorns, dinosaurs and goblins I played,
Oh! What treasures and riches did I see?
You created an unimaginable world for me.

Lost I was in your words,
As the king drew out their swords,
You saw me wonder, you saw me gape,
Not an emotion did you escape.

I slept with your dreams in my eyes,
As unfinished conquest of where the truth lies,
And I woke up with you in my hand,
And where will you take me, oh book, today,
In which land?

EPIPHANY

2009-05-30T22:53:00.000+05:30

Moon Das couldn’t have been more vacillating-between-thoughts than she was today. She still didn’t seem to weigh the moral grounds of what she was doing or rather going to do. For alternative seconds, it seemed wrong and for some it seemed right.

It seemed ages waiting for him. She remembered Mrs. Chatterjee’s words. He was the best she was sending. “The best”…Moon thought whether Chatterjee had been with others as well. She had been lately confiding into Chatterjee a lot. After marriage Arun had been out on business tours lately. And marriage to Arun had catapulted her from a middle class background to an uber rich one.

Maybe he was nice, caring and all that but they’d never spent any quality time together after marriage. Something she had always dreamed about. There was something amiss.

“Look Moon, I know this feeling of helplessness, this emotion of not knowing where-I-am., whom-to-go-to. The worst part about loneliness is that it makes you feel more forlorn. Instead it should make you want to come out, talk to everybody, enjoy life. Instead it pushes you back deeper and deeper, into this really secluded corner where you begin to enjoy this solitude. Don’t let it happen to you. Enjoy life. Let me give a suggestion…” Chatterjee blurted out nonchalantly.

Chatterjee had coaxed and cajoled until every word of hers soaked into Moon’s mind and everything had seemed reasonable enough to be done. One night was innocuous. How would that matter? Besides, Arun wouldn’t come to know.

A soft knock brought her back. She opened the door with an incubus of thoughts.
“Hi”, he said smiling.
She gave him a furtive glance. Maybe he sensed that to which he said, “Hey you can look at me. After all you are gonna pay me for being with you tonight.”
Somehow his proximity made him appealing and repelling at once. He stared at her and said, “Well…..”
And something in her mind told her to stop. Something really strong.
Moon said, “Can we just…errrr….talk?”
Moon had expected a surprise, but all he said was, “Okay, if that’s what you are paying me for!”

Moon heaved a sigh of relief.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”, he asked.
“Oh, nothing…I mean anything in general.”, she replied. She was never a great talker with strangers. And with a stranger like that it was impossible to think about anything.

“Okay. So what makes you call me here. I mean a married woman calling a gigolo?”
To moon, it sounded harsh. But it was practical, a rational question that Mrs.Chatterjee had answered for her, not herself.

“I really don’t know. I mean I never wanted to. But something just happened to me. I was so capricious. It has something to do with solitude….my loneliness…maybe…I…I…really don’t know.” She stammered.

“Why do people make such a big fuss about their loneliness and then use heavy words like “solitude” and “desolation”, I will never know.”, he replied.

Moon almost thought, he was here to mock her. But she had at least come in terms of talking to this “gigolo”.

“Why re you so preachy? I never thought someone of your profession could be so thoughtful.”
“Madam, aren’t we human beings? And as far as profession goes, let me tell you about myself. I am a student. In a good reputed college, mind you. And I like to do things which normal people do, read books, write, play….etc.”

“Normal people don’t sleep around with girls for money.”

“So now you get the point. I am doing this for money. To be honest, I am a money freak. It’s a burning desire you know, to get rich.”

“So that’s how…you are here…but there are other ways too where you can earn money. Why chose this?”

“Easy money. Quick. And I don’t need any extra skill for that.” , he chuckled and gave her a teasing look.

“Ya but somehow to me, it doesn’t feel right, what you are doing.”

“To each, his own. Every profession demands you to do something bad. And tell me one thing. What exactly is bad about my profession?”

She gave him a thoughtful look. Somehow, she didn’t find an answer. A valid answer.

“It’s unethical.”
“There are so many things which are unethical! I believe wasting electricity, cutting trees…is much more unethical than what I am doing right now.”
“You know, an intelligent guy like you…..I mean this just doesn’t suit you. To be here.”
“And neither to a woman like you.”
“I meant. Your profession.” She cast him an angry look.
“Okay. Can we stop all this verbal duels! So tell me, ….”

And they talked and talked for the next 2 hours. Something Moon hadn’t done with a man since years. She didn’t know what to make out of this. It was all weird. A gigolo…a married woman and ‘just talks’. Who would believe this! As far as the guy was concerned, moon thought of him as a thought catcher. He would just pick up her thoughts and interpret them and leave her speechless. Maybe that was because he was around women…

“Okay…time to take your leave mam!”
“Ya….thanks, you were a great company.”
“You still amuse me… I mean I am so delectable and irresistible..” he gave her a wide grin.

“Ya an irresistible….. talker…yes!”
She couldn’t remember when she was so comfortable with any one whom she had met for the first time. Maybe this was because of the fact that she knew they wouldn’t meet after that. And she wanted to pour out her feelings, to someone unbiased, someone who hadn’t known who she was….some one who could judge her purely on the basis of what she was “now”, not on what she had “been”.

“A penny for your thoughts.” He filliped his fingers.
“I was just thinking…..you know you really shouldn’t be here. You are a good guy.”
“No comments. But you take care! Don’t be confused the way you are….and the solitude thing just chuck it off…..”
How could he know more about her than herself in just these short moments? Or did she take them convincingly because nobody had ever judged her feelings or even tried to? And he had sounded so soothing and mainly so sure of himself…so justified…
Something that seemed immoral to her suddenly made sense…maybe this one rendezvous could change her outlook…she could think and act upon what “he” had said. That would keep her happy. She thought as she saw him trail off….

Maybe Arun wasn’t that bad. Why did she have so many expectations from a man who never even had time for himself. After all, he was doing this for “them” and not him alone. He had his own ways of showing love which she thought wasn’t enough for her. And she had always complained to Arun about this. And he never did. Almost never.. And did something called loneliness really exist. Or it was just another creation of mankind! After such a long time had she felt she existed as “moon”….bright, casting away darkness….

And it took a stranger to do that…
It was a revelation…about her…an epiphany…

Fart Fart Away...

2008-11-19T21:30:00.000+05:30

A note by the author:

“Fart Fart Away is my first ever short travelogue. Though I say it is a travelogue, I have tried to encompass the sarcastic realities of the world. I would like to mention here, that the place I visited was a very mystic one, the existence of which is known to a few. I got to know about this place by a friend of mine and after hearing his delirious narrations, I decided I would follow suit.”

Foreword:

by shamanth huddar
Farting away all my gas without having to worry about keeping it silent, the smile on my face with my eyes closed, clearly reflect the serenity I attain every time I visit Fart Fart Away. After having read this spectacular travelogue by Manisha, I couldn't wait a minute longer to pack my shorts and set off to Fart Fart Away. Every word in here by the author paints such a vivid picture of the aforementioned land, that it makes me want to plan another trip to Farty Land and relieve my ass off! I sincerely request the readers of this wonderful travelogue to leave all their prejudices behind and open up to a refreshing experience unlike anything before.
May you fart all you want!

The friend said I should visit this land on the World Environment Day, so I did. I received a warm welcome from the people of the land named “Fart fart away”.

Curiosity gripped me, for the name was so unusual. I think the people sensed the curiosity and a person told me that he would be my guide for the tour.

On entering I was given a mask to be worn around my nose. I asked, when no one did, why should I? The guide told me that the air here smelled of fart, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it. No questions asked, I did so. Everything seemed so weird…

The guide started.
Legend says, that the people of the world had ousted a woman, since she propagated the uses (what?) of farting extensively, and never took any treatment for her fart-problems. Primeval texts say that her fart was the cause of many people’s death and since her aggression couldn’t be curbed and since there was no law, under which she could be tried for ‘death by fart’, she was thrown out of this world.

Avenging her insult, she proclaimed a land of her own, somewhere near the vicinity of the earth. Initially, she built her empire with the help of cows whom she named as co-warriors (sfart….er…I mean smart, eh?). Any one restraining her efforts would be killed under excess release of methane by cows. Away from the prying eyes, she brought her followers from the World to the historic land, which she named, so aptly, Fart Fart Away, in the year 3000E.F.(Era Of Fart) (since A,B,C & D was already taken by World).

Ok, now I ask him why they said I should visit on the world environment day. He said, “we have grown up in the world. It is our onus to do our bit by stopping methane emissions to celebrate this day, though our emissions don’t reach the world, we have to do our bit.”

What do you people do over here except farting freely, I ask. The guide says, “We still are in cahoots with the worldly people. Prisoners who have committed grave crimes are deported here (I never knew that!) for life sentence and here, we put them in a cell with ahem fart-gas!! They die rotting.” He gives a wicked smile. I check whether my mask is in place. I come to know that even people here are trained as executors to kill the prisoners. People with high levels of acidity who can’t stop farting are specialized in this work. (ridiculous, it may seem but true).

Well as I move around this scarcely populated land, I see there are ‘no fart zones’ too. I give out a loud snort. The guide gives me an angry stare. Why are these for? He describes. Even these guys can’t live with their own body defilement day in and day out. These zones are a way to relax and cost a lot per stay.

I stop a man on his tracks and ask him about his history. “Those humans, why do they call themselves that? I was ridiculed by my own people in the world. They used to laugh at me, point fingers at me and say, this is the man who farted when he was asked what special skills he had. What they didn’t see was, it was a way of expressing myself, and not everyone could do it. I am happy and satisfied here. This is my shelter.”

Teary eyed he walks off.

Then my guide takes me to the most sought after place in this whole land- Farty Time!

I enter in this eerie club, and what I hear sweeps me off my feet. They play an orchestra. No, not with pianos, no guitars……with their butts!!! Yes, the different range of tempos, the different density and variation of farts, take me to an altogether different musical ecstasy.

Well, since the day is about to end, my guide says I should leave. I wonder, a fart by any other name would smell as ghastly, but these people give it a beautiful name (at least after the musical wonder). Ever heard any other beautiful example of ‘restoring the honor’?

Fuck the name!!!

2008-07-01T16:17:00.000+05:30

“Fuck- The Name” is a satirical autobiography of the boy, whose parents monikered him with the name “Fuck”. Only 25 years old, Fuck is already soaring high with cool laurels and various awards to his account, with the release of his book. Already a movie in progress too!!!
This book traces his journey of living with the name, understanding the fact that why his parents named him this and thus enjoying whatever the ramifications were.

Infinitely stupid, refreshingly insane and increasingly demented, this book is a must read.

AN EXTRACT:

I was named “Fuck” by my parents. In the initial years, somehow I never understood why people would give me very curious and undecipherable expressions on knowing my name was “Fuck”.

I remember I was six years old when I confronted my parents for the first time regarding my name. I was browsing through the dictionary and happened to pass by the meaning of “Fuck”. I was stunned. Why me, was the first thought that came to me? I felt so dumb, so stupid and so insulted. Why would any parent want their child to be named after a swear word, why? What made them so proud? How? Why? When? Where? These questions were spinning in to my mind, imagine, a six year old, contemplating so much….

I ran to my mom. I asked her:
“Mommy, (showed the dictionary) why?”
“Oh, son, we were about to tell you this…”
I started crying. My father said to my mom, “Mary, tell him.”
My mom began. “Son, when you were delivered, I said “Fuck” indicating a sigh of relief. And that is when your father suggested, lets name him that…I said what? Are you crazy. But then he told me it’s different, its unique and no one has it…”

“But mom, you could have named me Adam, Dick,Jack…anything why this???”. I was ashamed to say even my name.

My mom replied, “What is so special in those names? Nothing. A man is known by his name. Look if you were named Jack, peopled would add an “Ass” and call you Jackass, if it was dick, you know what a “dick” means? And Adam is the oldest name on the face of this earth. Why do you want such common names. And besides an astrologer told me to name you something different so that you would be famous.” (here I am writing my own autobiography at the age of 25!!)

Slowly but surely I gulped down the fact. One day I happened to hear the lecture of Rajnish (Osho). He was speaking about the use of word “Fuck”!!! Here’s what he said:

“I feel soft when you use the word fuck. What to do? It is one of the most beautiful words. English language should be proud of it. I don’t think any other language has any such beautiful word. It is one magical word. Just by its sound it can describe pain, pleasure, hate and love.

In lingo it falls into many grammatical categories, it can be used as a verb , both transitive and intransitive. John fucked Eve. Eve was fucked by John. And as a noun. Mary is a fine fuck. It can be used as an adjective. Mary is fucking beautiful as you can see there are not many words with the versatility of fuck. Besides these meaning there are following uses.

Ignorance : Fuck if I know
Trouble: I guess I’m fucked now
Aggression : Fuck u
Displeasure : What the fuck is going on here?
Difficulty : I can’t understand dis fucking job
Incompetence: He is a fuck off.
Suspicion : What the fuck are you doing?
Enjoyment : I had a fucking time.
Request: Get the fuck outta here
Hostility : I am going to knock your fucking head off
Greeting: How the fuck are you?
Apathy: who gives a fuck?
Surprise:fuck u scared d shit outta me
Anxiety: m fuckingly nervous bout exams

And it is very healthy too. If every morning you do it as a transcendental meditation just when you get up d 1st thing, repeat the mantra “fuck u” 5 times.’’

You saw that? Wasn’t what he said really cool? Now who wouldn’t love such a name!!!
Today I am in a position to say I love my name and wouldn’t change it for anything.
And I have learnt that my name is very therapeutic. How do people remove their aggression?? Don’t they call me??

Now, I don’t understand why people restrict the use of this word in public places, especially in front of girls? How would these people call me then? Why is it banned? Why are there three asterisks at the end? What is so objectionable about this word that movies and sitcoms have to edit it???

I hope my name removes this usage barrier…
No parents were born to show such inexplicable courage to name their kid “Fuck” and no son was born to display unfathomable ability to “live” with this name!!!

THE PAINTING MAN

2008-06-03T16:38:00.000+05:30

Sudha had told her about the painting thing. Sheila sat at the steps of the Ganpati temple with flowers in her hand, ready to be offered. She got up and entered the temple, feeling the divinity immensely around her. But today, her prayers were interspersed due to what Sudha had told her in the morning. She had told her to meet the so-called Joshi Sir in The Arts School, the painting man, at least once.

She left her prayers halfway. It was best to pray only when your mind was clear of every clutter of the soul. Sheila decided she would meet the man. Married to an alcoholic husband, who sat in a corner of the house, drinking and then puking, this was the best way out. She needed money desperately, to eke out a living.

The peon ushered her into the room. ‘The painting man’ smiled at her.
“Sudha has sent you, if I believe.”
“Yes, she told me about this thing in the morning.”
“So can we get started?”
“Sir, can I know what kind of work exactly is this? What do I have to do, though I have a faint notion from Sudha’s words.”
“Seven days alternatively you will have to come here, strip and I will paint you. I will tell you what postures I want. You sit/stand accordingly. For every painting you get 300 bucks. And the timings will depend on when I finish painting you.”
“Strip….??”
“That’s something called as nude paintings. So Sheila, give me your word so that I can start my work.”
“Yes sir, I’ll come from tomorrow.”

As she walked out, her mind wasn’t clear of exactly what she had done. What would she tell her husband? That she was supposed to pose naked in front of a man, who would then paint her? Would he believe that any man who saw a woman, bare in front of him, would only restrict himself ‘to paint’ her? Would he believe, that the painting man was harmless? She then understood that these were the questions, not only her husband would ask her, but she was asking this to herself. Was it safe?

That night she felt claustrophobic. She needed some air to vent out her fears, her reservations. She went outside and sat on the stairs of her chawl. Sleep was as distant as the moon. Apprehension had filled her to the core…

-----
“Why aren’t you ready yet?”, the painting man asked, with a slight presence of irritation in his tone.
“Am I supposed to strip all of my garments?”, she asked in a disapproving sort of way, even thought she knew, that she was supposed to. She did.
“Ok now, lie down on the support of you elbow, facing me. And be still.”

She did what she was asked to, becoming aware of her unclothed body, in the presence of a man.
-----

She was loving each and every moment of what she was doing. The painting man was amazing. The first time she had seen herself on the canvass, she couldn’t believe that it was her body, that was replicated with human hands on a mere piece of paper. How had she NOT known, in all of her 27 years that she was so beautiful?

Mr.Joshi had made her look like a princess. The second day he had asked her to cover her breasts with her hands, and sit in crossed leg position for a particular posture. Why had he asked to do that when the same can be done by wearing clothes. But when he saw the portrait she knew. He had added a sensuality to the portrait. There was a certain nudity that wasn’t vulgar, but was simply aesthetic. What it revealed about her was a woman enjoying her body, the beautiful structure of it and experiencing the pleasures of touching and sensing herself…she understood looks didn’t matter…

Initially it was cumbersome for her to bear the gaze of the man on her body, but slowly she began enjoying it. She loved the way the man put the end of the brush in his mouth and viewed her body with an intense interest. Her husband had never did that. Never made her felt that she was beautiful. But here he was, the man, totally unknown to her making her feel special.

Sometimes he would say, “beautiful posture”, “excellent”, “you were beautiful today, look”….and she would feel a surge of hormones..bliss..happiness.

-----
“No, Sheila I can’t. Here’s your money.”
“Sir, please. I need money. I will pose for you for many hours without complaining. Please take me in once again.” She prodded the door trying to come inside the room.

She knew her ‘posing period’ had ended. But she wanted money. What was she hiding from herself? Did she need the money, or did she need him?

“I need a different muse every time Sudha. Now go” he slammed the door.

She felt lifeless. New muse? Did he mean he painted many women like he had painted her? Wasn’t she special? Hadn’t he said she was beautiful? Hadn’t he ‘seen’ her?

Her existence came back to nil once again. The fifteen days she had spent…. Now who would make her happy? Who would make her jump with bliss again? Who would paint her again? Was there any other painting man?

Lifeless Love

2008-06-02T17:23:00.000+05:30

Liz walked out of her room into the garden, welcoming the usual beautiful and chirpy morning. She spent her mornings usually in the company of her self-grown flowers and herbs. She eyed Luke watering her plants. She felt a sudden gush of affection for him.

Liz remembered the time she had wanted a servant so that she could pass on her household work, and thus spend that time doing her translation work. A linguist she was.

Luke was amazing. He could do every work with miraculous perfection. Sometimes she wondered whether it was appropriate to call him a servant. More than that, he was a companion to her. Listening to her problems, woes, just about anything without ever interrupting her, but he never provided her with any suggestions, he just listened aptly.

She had always fallen for men who had looks. Luke was just that. Chiseled looks, perfect jaw line, very kissable lips. All clichés….and she was floored. It should be a sin to look that hunky, she thought. All thanks to Marie who had given her the idea of only one time investment on a house servant and what more, on spending a few more pennies, you could buy one on the basis of looks!! And it was 2030, you had to have one of such types. So here he was, Luke.

As he finished his garden work, Liz eyed him with rapt attention. As he entered the room, Liz took him by hand to her bedroom. She touched his face, praising this uncanny perfection of beauty. She kissed him, softly. It was for a few seconds. Although what Liz did was momentary and spontaneous, Luke was calm.

To Liz, it was saddening to note that there was no exchange of saliva, no rolling of tongues for that added sensuality, no sucking of each others breath and the amorous want of going deep inside one another’s soul and sensing every movement of each others body…

She glanced him from the corner of her eyes and started laughing at her own imbecility, her own daftness. Overcome by such schmaltz and maudlin attitude, she asked herself how could she fall for a robot?

SHOVE IT UP YOUR NOSE...

2008-04-13T21:16:00.000+05:30

An interview with the most famous nose digger of all times: Mr. Leon. He is considered a legend in the field of nose-digging and as a pioneer of the same. His 18,900 page thesis on nose digging has successfully found its place in The Indian Library. Here’s a tête-à-tête with “The Snout Prodigy.”

Me : What are the possible ways in which one can dig their nose?

Leon: Having researched on this topic for 20 years, I have found that with the evolution of man there was also an evolution in nose digging methods. While the Neanderthal man who didn’t have enough tools used their index finger most of the time, it is found that the modern day man uses fingers, pens, pencils and other round objects which can comfortably be shoved up into the noses.

Me: (itch in my nose): Aren’t pens and pencils supposed to be tools for writing?

Leon: Of course they are still!!! Now, imagine you are in the middle of some very important work which requires the use of pen in it. And then the itch begins. And you know how horrendous it can be, to bear the prickle in your nose. You feel like going inside your nose, and scratch and scuff until you are satiated. At the same time, you don’t want to smear your hands. What is the best next alternative? Do it with your pen!!!

Me: (restrains): Such amazing observation, I must tell. But tell me, isn’t it embarrassing to dig your nose in someone’s presence?

Leon: Well, the world has advanced so much, you know. People no longer think what others will think of them. I don’t know why “ethics” are attached to “nose-digging”. I consider it as a natural process. Still you would be surprised to know, according to my statistics, 25% of the people prefer digging their noses in toilets, 10% by placing their heads down, 15% when they are alone in their homes, 20% while traveling especially in buses, 5% while reading and talking on the phone,5% sniff hard so that the itch goes away and 20% in front of everyone.. You know a student of mine said an amazing thing on nose digging:

Nose digging, as it is termed as dishonorable and immoral and unethical when you are in a social congregation, is in fact just a way of cleansing the body of all the defilement one has. Don’t you shit? I would also like to mention that it is much better than farting in public. While farting has its own disadvantages like polluting the ambience and the emission of Methane, whose stench we all know is excruciating, Nose digging has no such effects.

Me: (sniffs with the hope that the itch will go away): Very well said. What is it in nose digging that attracts you so much?
Leon: Oh, there are so many aspects!!! I can just go on raving about this topic!!
I love the expressions on people’s faces when they dig their nose. I have so many snaps taken!! They are hilarious, most of the people widen their eyes, while their faces are elongated, the mouth gapes and voila, the finger is in the nose!! Then I observe in which direction they throw the removed dreg. Some of them just throw it carelessly, some throw it wherever they are seated, some will wipe it up on their clothes, and others will “introspect” the dreg as if it is some object of exploration!! Now you say, isn’t this all so mesmerizing?

Me (grows restless): Indeed, it is!! What happens to the noses of people who don’t have hands?
Leon: *Tears well up in his eyes * : I have so much sympathy for these people, the poor things are devoid of the pleasure of digging noses with their own hands and have to be dependent on others. Tell me, what satisfaction do these people get? But I am taking the help of technology for providing the liberation from “itch” for these people…

Me (gets up): Thank you for the interview!!! I didn’t know nose digging was such a dynamic topic.
Leon: My pleasure, if at all you wish to study on this topic, I have three institutes for a certified course on nose digging.

Me( runs to the toilet!!!)…..

Title courtesy : (Om Prakash Makhija)

The Congenital Feminist…

2008-04-13T21:05:00.000+05:30

Yet again, a feminist post after “why Mumbai hates its women?” and “the pee thing..”….I am sorry!!! I just can’t let go my feminist side off..!!

I am increasingly going ballistic over the rampant surge in eve teasing..Grrrr…* clenches fist!!* …just about everywhere you walk. anywhere!!!

a) The first types of eve teasers are those who will eye you with the most lecherous eye ever and then when you are near, they will pass the most lewd comments like “item”, “rocking babe”, “sexy”, “wah wah”, “kya maal hai”, “oiee hoye chikni” and some will take the hard work of Ahem-ing Ahem-ing their throat and shower you with not-likeable-at-all-and-death-of-the-ear-on-hearing songs!! Yes… its unbearable…it really is…I sometimes feel like smashing their skull out and giving it to them in their own hands, twisting their arms and kicking their unmentionables!!..aarghhhh..and and whip them in public *wow *....

b) The second types are the oh-so-sophisticated types!!! How?? Ok..so a girl approaches..passes…and they blurt out “oh god…Pamela Anderson”. I told you the high society types!!! They will stare at you right there. Guys, the tee won’t just pop down!! For god’s sake…and when your “behind” is “in front” of them, they will be singing “Jlo”. * feels like putting them to the Gallows*….shouts *you skunk scented human…pig’s shit…having izzzat worse than a fly sitting on a hippopotamus, flea on dog’s hair, a germ worse than pseudomonas. blah blah blah.. *

No this doesn’t mean that girls feel they are the aishwaryas of the world, to think that every guy on the street catch a glimpse of them..nmnm..actually they do. They will “turn around” and look at you. And the guys on bikes..they are so in danger to lose their lives..one wink and lo, they are “la la la”. They seriously look at you while riding bikes!!! Nothing in world matters!!! And if you are wearing a really body hugging tee and a mini, they are surely meeting the Yamraj!! * ho ho ho* …(Oooops sorry, its for Santa Claus, whats for Yamraj??)

How does it feel to Adam tease, sometimes I wonder, now the phrase is gaining so much popularity!! *

*Yeah, girls do eye guys, but their statements, yes I say statements, not comments, are much more…mnmn..i don’t know…we are like “oh, what a hunk..” or something like “ Shit, he is amazing” or “He is so cute (by the girly girly types)” or “wow” or ( add more!! )…see…we are decent!!! Decently er….amorous!!!!……nothing like “chikne” and all!!! *eeekkss *…..

The Weeping Couch Potatoes

2008-03-24T20:05:00.000+05:30

They are the propagators of various anti-cultural and stupid and unbelievable and illegal acts like polygamy ( still no one gets caught), pre-nuptial sex (everyone in the family does that, its hereditary, genetic and a tradition), and the most hip girl of the family running off with her driver.
They slap one another, kill one another(yes, they do that, without anyone finding out !!) Their lives have more twists than a packet of pretzels with that ear splitting music in the background!!

The male members of their family can make an ulti-multi-multi million crore rupees deal with a wave of their hand (Whoever said that Ambani was the richest man on earth?) and other day they are in slum..trying to eke out a living.

And on the other side, the female members are portrayed as so “full” of “moral” and “ethical” values, that they can make a nun look like a whore(apologies, only humor content)…and then the next day, one of the unmarried girl is pregnant…

Crying is their passion, sometimes you can’t distinguish whether they are tears of happiness or glum!!…their glycerin purchase and usage charges are more than the production cost of the entire set, even after its burnt and destroyed

200 years-yes my fellas, 200 is the life expectancy of every member in the family ( well, science IS progressing and how!!!) unless and until they are assassinated by their own brothers and sisters or maybe they fall off a cliff… and then….

Every month a member of a family dies, then “resurrects” in their own avatar, but with plastic surgery done. (Yes, ladies and gentleman, present generation plastic surgery is very cheap and affordable, so much that you can have them done every month!! And peepuls, this is not it, you can feasibly alter your height and weight too!!! Really!!)

They celebrate something everyday…. So to save their time to adorn themselves again and again, they sleep and wake up in the festive saris and make-up too…Did any one say that sleeping with make-up is harmful…?? Not for them…in their families, even a sixty year old woman wont get a freckle on her face.

A villain who has a long hair, a typical identity habit, like sniffing or an ‘aha’ in background for women…main female protagonist wear earrings akin to clothes hanging on a hanger…and even if this is not enough for gaining TRP’s, they introduce a gay character…

They have Hindi dialogs which make no sense(to me), even Premchand can be put to shame…

Arrrgghhhh….
Enough…
bangs head

(well you know who I am talking about, cant reveal the name man…for security purposes…;) and the people who see these sitcoms are referred to as the weeping couch potatoes..)

Graffiti

2008-03-24T20:04:00.000+05:30

· What’s with our National Insignia? Hockey is going to pits and national animal is dying!! I guess PETA ambassadors posing naked isn’t helping much….

· Finished with my exams!! Two months of long vacation. I am in a dire dire need of freelancing job…anyone hiring?? I read of a Japanese bar dancer who used to blog, becoming an actress or something…she gets 20,000 visitors every week…

· Why are novels being sold on such high prices? Why? And when I buy from streets, people say I encourage piracy (as if the authors aren’t getting enough royalty..d’uh) Ah, Chidambaram, do something about this also yaar!!

· Finally, I have decided to do MBA *sighs *

· Its 500 degrees outside…please peepuls, use sunscreen ;)

· Please, please pray my German class begins…I was never so desperate to study!!

· I have been thinking of hitting the gym since the past 8 months and not once did my fake determination turn into a reality. On being repeatedly asked by my dad for not exercising- Dad, I don’t have tracks!!..when he bought me tracks, Dad, I have no company..L..other excuses-Dad, I got up late (as if people don’t go to the gym in eves!!)…ugh, dad I got exams coming up…Dad, er..i worry if the guys will start ogling me (oh yeah, I am this really doe eyed beauty with amazing lush great hair), Dad, I hear the instructor is a big flirt…*winks *….I don’t understand whats wrong with taking a walk in the garden rather than on that electric machine, sans fresh air!!

· Everyone’s talking about roadies!! Hope Prabhjot wins..!!!

Tagonomics

2008-03-24T19:57:00.000+05:30

I don’t go with Zahid telling- every tag is special!!! Every blog I visit, someone is tagging and someone is being tagged!!! And I have practically stopped reading tags, I am actually saturated!!

8 facts tag will tell you that the person is oh-so-drooling about chocolates, cant live without them, loves music, likes sleeping, loves books, is a movie buff, is an orkut addict, hates something, loves something/one excessively, hates studying, wants to be something…yeah I know that…tell me something really really eerie and weird bout yourself!!!

Then there’s this musical tag which will never give any proper answers to what has been asked..(sorry Zahid, the harder I tried to synchronize the shuffled songs with the questions, the more stupid answers I wrote!!)..and this tag gives you the chance to display your oh-so-I-listen-to-rock-and-only-rock-and-no-Hindi-songs-please erudition!!

Oh then there are those “book” tags asking what books you are reading currently,* oh-you-know-I-read-booker-prize-nominees-and-winners-and-even-though-I-don’t-understand-what-the-book-meant-I-loved-it-WHAT???-YOU HAVENT HEARD OF IT?-Well-then-you-are-such-a-geek-who-hasn’t-surpassed-Enid-and-Nancy-grow-up-kid * which books touched your heart and soul *no, I didn’t like THE Alchemist, in fact, I got so bored, I couldn’t even complete it *….and then the “blog” tag with questions like do your parents know about your blog(there are many many things parents shouldn’t know!!)

Why does someone want to know where a scar of a person is? And WHY does someone want to know HOW he got it? Now tell me, what if the scar is in an unmentionable part of your body, what do you tell? And how did you get that??…What what what??

Why does someone want to know whether I believe in gay marriages? Now, what does “believe” mean? A friend of mine once pointed out what a priest would say during such marriages, “I now pronounce you as husband and husband/ wife and wife” !!!

Now, if someone says “Is this okay” what do you say?…..what kind of a freaking question is this? “what is 2+2”,…d’uh…shit, its so damn difficult yar…I find derivatives and integration so much easier!! *!@#$$%^&* I lost my calculator!!*

Tall story-The Not-So Nano Experience

2008-02-08T16:41:00.000+05:30

Rudraksh gave a quick look to the man sitting in the car to his left. The man wore a terrible and horrendous looking shirt, some orange colored floral design with blue hued leaves. The man glanced at him pompously. And gave him an ‘I-have-a-car-too’ look. Yes, he was an average looking man and perhaps with a middle class stature. But Rudraksh thought why he was comparing his Nano with Rudraksh’s Skoda. Nearing five hours, he was stuck at the same place, moving not even at a snail’s pace.

With the advent of Nano, the traffic scene of Mumbai had totally changed, he estimated. Three years had passed by and the Nano-fever didn’t die down. He heard a buzz that the cost was being reduced to fifty thousand. Now, how ridiculous was that? And incredible!! Penguin-ed taxis and rickshaws had once ruled the lanes of Mumbai. Now they had become as extinct as horse ridden chariots. Now it was Nano…

He heard a woman screaming loudly. Someone said she was in her labors. Well, nothing to fret about, there were mobile hospitals everywhere, considering the frequent traffic jams at every nook and corner of Mumbai. To his left, he saw this couple kissing amorously. Who could wait now-a-days?

Yesterday he himself had indulged in car flirting. Stuck at the same place for hours, he had seen this gorgeous looking gal and had the most shortest affair of his life. He had even implanted a mobile coffee maker in his car!! Just in case… They hadn’t concealed anything personal as such, but then four hours didn’t seem like eternity with her, as they seemed today.

Peeping ahead he saw a noble woman sharing her food with a beggar. Queer, he thought but not as bizarre as some people starting up classes like ‘learn basic German in just two hours. Just Rs.500. Credit facilities unavailable. Advanced can be learnt provided you meet us at the same place and same time.’

As he looked up, he saw at least a dozen of Nanocopters flying away, making unbearable noises. Maybe Mr. Tata or Bajaj… Perched at sky-scraping heights were the Nano-pads for the landing. Well, even the helicopters went cheaper!!! He himself was in a process to buy one. Why endure this agony every single day? He overheard someone say that there had been an accident just 2 minutes ago, which was really eccentric because a vehicle has to have a ‘movement’ to cause a mishap!!! He adjusted his seat, pulled it backwards and decided to catch up on his lost sleep……

TALL STORY-THE INVASION

2008-02-08T16:38:00.000+05:30

There was a buzz of apprehension in the air. The feeling was contagious. Every member of Mr. Srinivasan’s four headed family had their eyes stuck upon the door.
Mr. Srinivasan had so much craved for a good storage place, so that his small house could look somewhat spacious. Clothes were strewn around, books stacked one upon another, toys always coming in way making them fall at every step.

As soon as he had laid his eyes on the cupboard, he had vowed himself to work hard and endeavor like a Trojan. After some four or five months he had succeeded in arranging three months installments for the much awaited purchase.

He had paid them the amount today morning and they had assured him that the cupboard would be home delivered by 5 in the evening. It was nearing to 4.59 as the members had their eyes and ears alarmed. A sound of bell and every one gave a sigh of jubilation. The men placed the furniture at the said place. It was their moment of bliss. But Mrs. Srinivasan saw that her husband had a pensive look on his face. She asked him and his reply in one word “The Invasion” alarmed her too. But she said, “Don’t worry, that won’t happen again. It happened four years ago. All the bad things which had to happen have transpired.”

This brought a feeling of relief in his mind and soon after the “happiness intoxication”, the family slept peacefully. Mr. Srinivasan woke up and wanted his first sight to be his new acquisition. What he saw was a heap of dust and he cried….it was the invasion again, yet again…the invasion of white ants….

UN-REST IN ‘PEE’S

2008-02-08T16:36:00.000+05:30

Men pee anywhere and everywhere.

Bus stops, railway stations, in and around gutters, at the back of a wall, behind a BIG tree- you name a place in India and some man must must must have ‘pee’d there.

THE SITUATION: Controlling the flow becomes so impossible, it must pass out…glance around…a ‘pee’k-a-boo… is anyone seeing ???…turn your back…a hand on a side of waist…zip off the fly and yeah,…suddenly everything is paradise…heaven…

I hate it..I hate it…I hate it..and I don’t know why I am making such a big fuss out of men peeing anywhere…

Maybe I have been seeing this really disgusting site almost everyday…I go to my bus stop and there’s this big tree near-by…every time I go there. I see a man peeing..behind that poor tree. I mean look at it. Why do they have to do this? There are so many public toilets around or what they call as ‘shauchalyas’, and at least in Mumbai I can assure, you will find a public toilet at every railway station. Now is that too difficult? Why do these people have to get so desperate? Why?

That stench I have to bear everyday!!! Wall-written messages and Graffiti end up in fumes!!! Every wall in Mumbai bears this message ( Now, now not every wall but sporadically if you consider) – ‘Yaha toilet karna mana hai’ and for the ease of it, its written in Hindi and a much worse term is used for ‘toilet’. Still, men will pee on that message!!! Pee, pee, pee till that ‘mana’ vanishes!! Yeah…talk about being sadists in their own way…

When will someone do something about it?? Do you find any woman doing this? I mean, see consider that a woman did do this, what would have been the reaction?? She would have been in jail, or she would have been made to pay some high penalty for sure. Peeing in public for women would essentially be considered as an attempt at ‘nudity’..d’uh!!!!
(sorry for the diversion, I didn’t mean to take this topic to gender issues, but this is one!!!)

I showed this article to my dad and he said- Let ‘pee’s prevail
I said- Let ‘pee’s be with you….

I LIVE ON THE STREET

2008-02-08T16:31:00.000+05:30

Morbid fears pull me apart,
As I count the stars in the sky,
I know I won’t sleep tonight,
Hunger and thirst make me cry.

Morsels of food, I pick up from lanes,
Cos my stomach cries out in pain.

Tatters of rags, I pick up at random,
As they are fragile, I wear them seldom.

I sink everyday in my siblings’ tears,
In act of defiance, I pretend I don’t hear.

My throat parches up, as the summer heat grows,
I have no water to drink,
Is anyone listening to my woes?

I am drenched, as the sky pours down,
No canopy, no shelter above my head,
And in the maelstrom, am about to drown.

Praying fervently, that something thaws me,
I clatter, I shiver and turn blue in winter,
Do you feel? Do you see?

I live on street,
My abode’s my sky,
I live on street,
Someday, someone will run a car over me and lemme die!!

THE GOOD OLD WORLD OF CARTOONS

2008-02-08T16:24:00.000+05:30

There’s nothing in this world, nothing which can be compared to the times we spent as a child…aah childhood!!! I guess as we grow old, we let some things pass by, we leave some things behind, like throwing tantrums, licking the melted chocolate that ran down the elbow, the fake tears could accomplish almost anything in the world, the incessant pampering by grannies, the rampant litanies to god praying him to make us ‘old’ enough to be independent and yeah,cartoon cartoons!!!

Cartoons-gee, I loved them so much!! Back from school, just sit before the television!!…and get lost amidst the web of cartoons. Wish there was such thing as TOONLAND...
And TODAY I became so nostalgic that I listed my favorite cartoons of all times:

· DEXTER’S LABORATORY: Remember ‘deedee’? This cartoon was based upon the child prodigy Dexter, who was repeatedly irritated by his sis ‘deedee’. It was so funny to see how his sister tortured him at every moment and ruined his experiments!! Didn’t we all sisters kind of learn from her? To make our sibling’s life miserable?

· X-MEN: I was totally in love with that laser eyes mutated guy!! Shit, I don’t even remember his name!!

· JUSTICE LEAGUE: the greatest amalgamation of all the superheroes. I totally loved this series!! And if you can remember the theme music, wasn’t it melodious? The series was so much filled with everything-action, love, and humor!!

· SPIDERMAN: Don’t ask me why!!

· CAPTAIN PLANET: I can still sing the song you know!! Captain planet, he’s the hero!! What cool fight he laid against environment degrading monsters!!

· THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JOHNNY QUEST: What I remember of this cartoon is that, there was a bunch of guys and gal and even a dog, who used to wear some goggles that would transfer them into another world and were they would wage a war against their enemies!! And I also remember that I was totally hooked to this cartoon… the theme music was excellent.

· THE BUGS BUNNY: The mere mention of the name makes me laugh!! Extremely funny, hilarious to the core, with a bunch of one-liners, this was sure to die for.

· THE ROAD RUNNER: Bee-beep. I used to sympathize with the opponent. Poor thing!!

· RICHIE RICH: I always thought if I had a boyfriend like him…. ;)

Well, there’s nothing like those genre of cartoons they used to make those days. Present day cartoons have reduced to an unbearable, ludicrous, and illogical heap of shit..except for some cartoons like Sponge bob Square pants and Avatar. And if this is not enough, they have this dumb Hindi translation(Gawd, they call Griffindor-Garud-dwar in Hindi...yuk!!! They can stick to the original names na??) The Avatar (If you haven’t seen it, see it now!! Trust me) was fantastic. They stopped showing even that…..pch….pch….

So which cartoons did u love or still do????CIAO!!

TAGGED AGAIN!!!- BY ZAHID

2008-02-08T16:19:00.000+05:30

1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it –
I have a scar on my left leg, below the knee. Don’t remember how I got it!!

2. What does your phone look like? –
Hmmmm…it’s a 5200!!! Blue and White in color

3. What is on the walls of your bedroom? –
My brother’s guitar, my book shelf (containing my beloved German books), a good luck charm of an oval shape bought specially from Germany!!

4. What is your current desktop picture? –
A picture of Dilwara temples ( Since I had been to Udaipur this year)

5. . Do you believe in gay marriage? –
Am ambivalent about it..

6. What do you want more than anything right now? –
A freelance journalist’s job!! A novel which I can call mine!! then…ahggh…there are many things right now in my mind…

7. Are your parents still together? –
In fact, they will be celebrating their silver jubilee coming May!!

8. Last person who made you cry? –
Sophiel!! She’s my best friend..we had a real bad fight…so I cried

9. What is your favorite perfume/cologne?
Ah!! Perfumes…I love them!! My favorites are Tommy Girl and Azalee. And yes I also like what they call as ‘itra’

10. What are you listening to? –
My mom screaming at me!!!

11. Do you get scared of the dark? –
If I see some spooky movie, then I do. Otherwise nopes!!

12. Do you like pain killers? –
You ask as if it’s some kind of cuisine!!! Why should you ‘like’ them!!
13. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
No, I am not.

14. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be? –
Nothing to eat, but right now I am craving for a glass of iced tea!!!

15. . Who was the last person who made you mad? –
My 3 year old cousin named Divyash!! Gawd, the mischievous sprite he is!!

16. Who was the last person who made you smile?
Same person!! I love him so much!!! I bought a T-Shirt for him (He can be quite a sycophantic when he wants something!!), and he gave me a big wide smile…

17. Is someone in love with you? –
Everyone around me is!! Well, if not, I like to think that!!

Thae tag passes to anyone who hasnt been tagged yet!! cheers!!

Deja Brew

2008-01-10T14:46:00.000+05:30

I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee. ~Carly Simon

There’s much more to coffee than it being called just a “beverage”. A sorcerer beverage it should be called.

I mean look at the coffee shops today, a lot can happen over a cup of coffee(I am totally “for” this CCD brand statement), coffee and conversations…
CCD, Mochas, Brio, and Barista et al….have you ever heard of “tea” parlors??( Even though it being the most consumed beverage in India)

They are here to stay man!! Look at the precincts….cool jukeboxes with the most soothing songs playing on them, they make coffee all the more sumptuous…and even if certain shops don’t play songs, they make sure they have a live band which is more effective I suppose….wide assortments of daily newspapers….comfy cushion seats…widest array of coffees from around the world…and all of them at “reasonable” rates.. the aroma can compete with the fragrance of first-rain-wet-mud whiff…I mean, you never feel outta place at these coffee kiosks…all just for “coffee”??

And you know what, King Charles was so much miffed with the idea of coffee kiosks that he passed the following resolution way back in 1675:
"A PROCLAMATION FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF COFFEE HOUSES: Whereas it is most apparent that the multitude of Coffee Houses of late years set up and kept within this Kingdom...and the great resort of idle and disaffected persons to them, have produced very evil and dangerous effects; as well for that many tradesmen and others, do herein misspend much of their time, which might and probably would be employed in and about their Lawful Calling and Affairs; but also for that in such houses...divers, false, malicious, and scandalous reports are devised and spread abroad to the Defamation of His Majesty's Government, and to the disturbance of the Peace and Quiet of the Realm; his Majesty hath though it fit and necessary, that the said Coffee Houses be (for the Future) put down and suppressed..."
King Charles II of England, December 23, 1675
This rule was revoked on January 8, due to widespread citizen protest.

Okay…coffee….. as I said, a magical drink!! There IS something very very sensual attached to this drink…..say, does anyone invite someone on a “tea” meeting? Or directly dinner?? First step towards seducing anyone…..first dates- always coffee..I have “bean” there buddies..:P
And who keeps you awake when your futile attempts to keep off your eyes from drooping fails..?? They say, sleep is the ramification of caffeine deficiency ;)
Forget your troubles with a cup of coffee, drown your sorrows in the coffee mug..it works, trust me..
And didn’t someone say, drinking coffee comes with a lot of health benefits??? Our great Pope’s frequent ailment was persistent head aches which he cured by inhaling steam of coffee, said Dr. Johnson in The Life Of Pope.

Abhi ke liye itna hi “coffee” hai….

So Be a coffee-drinking individual - espresso yourself!

Does Mumbai Hate Its Women?

2008-01-10T14:35:00.000+05:30

The following article was my response to a personal poll conducted in a daily newspaper. There were six people interviewed. The question here was: What are the reasons for increasing number of rapes in Mumbai? Four out of them said that the reason for a rise in this crime is the provocative dressing style of girls now-a-days. They said that girls willingly expose their assets and under such circumstances how can women think that they wont be raped. On being questioned about what measures would they suggest to put hold on the crime, one of them said that ‘purdah’ should be made compulsory, not only for Muslim women but also for others. This is what I replied them back:

In response to: Does Mumbai hate its women?

The responses to your above article dated 8th November,2007 were really beyond belief but still predictable. Four out of your six people surveyed suggested that the whole fault lies on the ‘modern’ girl alone and she is the only one responsible to invite trouble for herself.

This is yet another stronghold of male chauvinism epitomizing the fact that these people want to protect their male fraternity against the rampant increasing heinous crimes subjected to women and girls. This may sound like a really feminist and biased attitude, considering the fact that I am a girl, but the responses have really evoked me to show up my feminist side.

Have they ever considered the fact that women in purdah too are raped and tortured equally? Now will they defend themselves by saying that women shouldn’t come out of their houses and should be confined into the four walls of the houses, live and die there? Speaking about the skin show, the mere subject is totally baseless. People talk as if women are roaming around wearing bikinis. The question is, why can’t men stop drooling all over the place? They are the ones who will keep on staring at you even if you wear a sleeveless dress.

I would also like to highlight the fact that all of those who think that exposure is the main raison d'être for increasing rapes and similar appalling treatment against girls, they have this solitary reason-EXPOSURE. They are visibly unable to present any other reason that can hide the fact that what they are doing is wrong and consequently tend to refute the style of feminine dressing. The recent rape of a BPO employee also goes against this. What could have been a feasible explanation? EXPOSURE? I don’t think so.

No one wants to blame the film industry for depicting such provocative things under the U/A label, no one wants to stand against the open selling of porn movies in Mumbai markets. Aren't these films one of the main factors for "directly" seducing masculine minds? Every one just wants to blame, blame and blame. Yes, even i am doing the same thing.Yes, I understand that to some extent, women are responsible, you can’t clap with one hand. But this crime shows a striking imbalance of attitudes.

It is also seen that most of the girls who are brutally raped mostly belong to poor and lower middle class societies, who have no reason to expose whatsoever. It should be accepted, that rapes are the outburst of men’s barbaric, carnal and sexual desires, nothing more.
Through centuries, this important and relevant topic has been merely reduced to a blame game. Men accuse women and always will and vice versa. Battle of sexes, as they say will persist. Sadly, no one wants to do anything about it.
No one wants to stand up for this fight, no one wants to device the panacea for this. Rapists all over India are roaming at large. It’s high time we stop this warfare and do something to stop this offense and help the poor victims.

MANISHA BHANDARI

There are only cons of being a pros !!!

2008-01-06T23:14:00.000+05:30

"Every night meant death and every morning resurrection of her spirits. ‘People die once, I die every night,’ she thought. She moved ahead, plucking up a rose and smelling it and realized that she almost forgot how it smelled. What she remembered was the smell of the dingy cottage she was given, where every night men reincarnated in the form of hounds would pounce upon her, their starving claws boring callously in her body. The only good part about the job was that she was paid for it-the only thing that could support her three member family."

We know who we are talking about !!! She is always written about as like this. I wanted to name it Pros and cons of being a pros but then we know.....

Go for the news, news papers and stuff that wants to prove an ideal society you will find things written against her...they raise the point of banning prostitution...This that ...If Some womenz caught they want her on their live exclusive and sensational telecast. Lest some legal problem arise they blur the face part and thats it nothing more....Conduct interviews and stuff and big people will discuss upon arising indian problems and finally itz frgotten until another one is caught !!!

Come to the blogs and movies, you will find compassionate scripts dedicated to them... She is dedicated an ample vocabulary. Given a mike to voice her opinion... to say why she has had to choose teh esteemed profession and how she has 3 illegitimate children with 30+ strangers and yet survived to earn a living and sometimes even for a drunkard jobless niggard man !!! Sometimes she recites a poem of her daily schedule and sometimes she simply shares a word and sometimes her dream of bein normal...here normal meant a woman !!!!

There is a boy who comes every evening selling parathas to college students. Child labour is bad as well...We entertain it...Cant ban him on child labour reasons...He will loose earning...Best thing was buy things from him and give money... Who will give money jus like that and for how long if he doesnt sell them and simply begs??? Similarly a pros has to do something more than beg...She does pretty much the same as the little boy....But we hear the boy is termed as runnin a family of 5 and the woman nymphomaniac !!! How unjust !!!

People usually associate brash language, vulgar dressing and the body language with the word BAD and hence you will also find their attitude unsociable and hence rule them out as Unchangable and they had always wanted that and so on..... But dont think even for a while that they had to change with the time...C'mon they couldnt go upon thier job with sensitivity and gentleness which would have made their situation worser !!! They fail to trust you even if you try to make them trustable

These woman were so very unlucky that they couldnt earn a job being a house-maid or a school Aaya.... If only ...they were that.... they could get away with terms like low class and other lesser cruel words !!!

The Portrait Of A Lady

2008-01-01T18:25:00.001+05:30

Her hands weaved the magic,
Not with the wand but with a brush,
With using words laconic,
The fingers moved, without a hush.

Slowly, the brushed touched the paint,
Transforming her figment of imagination onto the canvass,
Her smiling sober face reminded me of a saint,
As she stood on the dais.

With eyes, to her, god didn’t grant,
With every stroke that created a masterpiece, none so great,
She said,
Sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want,
Coz it wants to give you something better.

To My Mother, My God

2008-01-01T18:21:00.000+05:30

Why was my mother being indifferent?
I asked myself,
As she left my hand at the gate of my school,
Tears welling down,
My cheeks turning hot,
Didn’t she care enough?

Why was she being rude?
I asked myself,
When she explained me gamut of DONOTS-
Do not play,
Do not hang out with your friends for too long,
Do not bunk lectures, et al,
Didn’t she care enough for my privacy?

What I failed to see was,
Why was she being so patient?
When I blabbered every small thing about my school, friend, and teachers,
Why was she being my mentor?
When I easily gave up,
Why was she my pillar of strength?
When I cried for hours on her shoulder,
Why would her heart bleed?
When I would hurt myself,
Why was she being my angel?
Putting wings to my dreams,
Filling me with optimism,
Turning them into reality.

Now, did I care enough?
Did I ever think that she needed to be thanked for it?
Did I ever thank god for gifting me a mother,
While others were dying so that god could bestow them with
An angel called mother?
It’s true
God cannot be everywhere,
Hence he made a mother,
Now I really want to thank god and my mom,
For, when she brightened my hope in despair,
I didn’t even bother.

There's So Much To Live For

2008-01-01T18:15:00.000+05:30

Walking through the boulevard, green precincts, under the faint and but mind captivating moonlight, the cool zephyr blowing her curls-That’s what she enjoyed. Much to her resentment there was only solitude that lacked. She wanted to be just alone, forlorn, away from the hungry eyes of men.

Yes, she thought to herself, that she herself had chosen this path. Sleeping with men and earning something in return only for her children’s survival. Poor children, with the stigma of "illegtimacy" . She didn’t even know who their father was. She desperately wanted to be with herself. She wanted to feel the air that touched her, she wanted to breath, and most importantly she wanted to live. Live a life that she only dreamed of.

Every night meant death and every morning resurrection of her spirits. ‘People die once, I die every night,’ she thought. She moved ahead, plucking up a rose and smelling it and realized that she almost forgot how it smelled. What she remembered was the smell of the dingy cottage she was given, where every night men reincarnated in the form of hounds would pounce upon her, their starving claws boring callously in her body. The only good part about the job was that she was paid for it-the only thing that could support her three member family.

She knew people like her had no respect in the society. What was she-a prostitute, slut, hooker, or a whore? Why wasn’t she called a woman? A simple word-woman. So deep and meaningful. So considerate and respectful. The society has always had this preconceived notion about woman- married, housewife and the caretaker of their children. Wasn’t she a woman? This unanswered question drove her crazy.

Walking with these inescapable thoughts she reached a deep valley. Maybe I have no reason to live, otherwise why would god lead me to this road? Her children’s face came across her mind in a flash.

Dream.

She felt some harsh movements of fingers on her body. She opened her eyes. The same ravenous eyes.
“Who sent you?” she asked.
“Does that matter?” he asked flinging a big bunch of money on her face.
“No, but…” she continued.
“Pecuniary interest… think ..u can’t refuse this much money...can you?”
"I can't do this....uh...."
…………..she remembered her daughter telling her how much she wanted a new dress to wear…….and she died again that night….

She resisted the temptation,
But she still gave in,
She realized what she did was wrong,
She realized what she did,
was against every proposed good thing,
She wished to look into the eyes of death,
then it struck-
THERE’S SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR…

Yearpost!!!!!

2007-12-30T19:21:00.000+05:30

· What had you done in 2007 that you had never done before?
Read loads of books, surfed the net a lot....and had lots of fun!!

· What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
I would love to have many many friends...would love to blog more...and yeah study!!!

· What do you wish you had done more of 2007?
Study....

· What song(s) will always remind you of 2007?
Sham hai, jam hai (Don), tumse hi(jab we met), and for some reasons, drops of jupiter (Train) and what i've done(LP)

· What date from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory and why?
I dont remember the date, but the month was August....and you dont need to know why..:P

· What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Well, there were so many moments like the first time my poem was published in DNA and i got a prize for it(Free accomodation in Goa-i didnt go..:( ), then when i laid my hands on HP7, when i first got my first ever german novels (four of them).....

· What was the best thing you got in 2007?
A Wrist watch and a jacket

· What places did you visit this year?
Rajasthan-The Dilwara temples were beautiful

· What was the best book you read in 2007?
It was Five Past Midnight In Bhopal(Dominique Lappiere) and A Thousand Splendid Suns(Khaled Hosseini)

· What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I spent my day at my favourite place-Asangaon. There's a Jain temple over there which i love to visit. I am eighteen.

· What do you wish you had done less of in 2007?
Sleep less and less orkuting!!

· What was your favorite film this year?
Jab We Met, Simpsons....me not a movie buff....so can't even remember what i saw..

· Who did you miss the most among relatives and friends?
My four cousins who live in Andheri

· What did you hate most about yourself this year?
Being indecisive and moody

· Did you do anything you are ashamed of this year?
I dont think so

· If you could go back in time to any moment of 2007 and change something, what would that be?
The date has to be 28th November. That day was my German exam and unbelievably the entire batch of ours failed, so i would go back to that moment and write the paper again and pass this time!! :)

· Did you do any act of benevolence this year?
Sadly, no

· My 2008 wish list:
1.Read loads of books
2.Love more..
3.Play some sport
4.Be more social
5.And lastly be happy!!

I wish to see the yearpost of Pallav,Zahid,Busywriter,Jagadeesh,Matty and Patchez.

My 'Priced' Tag

2007-12-21T11:42:00.000+05:30

1. I am a self confessed narcissistic, soon on the threshold of becoming a megalomaniac. Shit!! I am so good at hyperboles!!

2. I am eighteen years old and my future profession keeps on changing. This time I noted the degree of transition in my professions:
On 11th December, 2007 I wanted to be a freelance journalist and even dreamed of writing a novel. I almost, almost got the Pulitzer and the Booker!! :P was so close….shyah!!
On 12th, a German to English and vice versa translator.
On 13th , a movie director, preferably a director of short films and yes you get it right this time I WAS kissing my Oscar trophy..
On 14th , a social service worker…*sigh*…I had this reverie of being in an orphanage, playing with those under-privileged children…the best dream so far!!
And on 15th it was IIM ….ufffff…

3. On very important and crucial appointments, I have this inexplicable ability to entice a bird’s blah-blah and trust me it STINKS.

4.I love perfumes. I hate it when people don’t use them…

5. Courtesy to me and my friends (Abha, Chris) we have formed this theory named “The Intellectual Rubbish” which states that there are two types of people existing in this world : a) The intellectually dumb ones and b) the dumbly dumb ones!! Now you may ask why?? After a certain amount of observations, we came to a conclusion that everyone in this world is prone to doing something really, really dumb at some point of their lives, be it when they were alone (this is really important) or in front of everyone, at least at one point of time, they were really embarrassed na? So even if you are an intellectual, you ARE dumb!!! Understood??
(All rights reserved. No part of this really short and comprehensible and “intellectual” theses may be reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission. COPYRIGHT)

6. Why do people start talking about their own “hard and testing times they had to face” when you go to them to share your ado?? “oh ye to kuch nahi, jab me tere umar ki thi, mujhe to kitne dukh dekhne pade, tera to mere samne kuch nahi!!!” This attitude sucks!!!

7. People have abundant reasons to be happy. Why do they search things which make them depressed and then sulk over it for a lifetime? Why cant they see that there’s so much joy and happiness around us?

8. If you, at any point of time, want to kill me, just shove me in a room full of cockroaches, lizards or any flying insects…and yes make sure you have sound-proof glasses in that room!!!

The tag passes to abha and siddharth joshi.

umnmnmn....

2007-12-08T21:31:00.001+05:30

THE ECSTATIC ADDICTION

The craving seems endless,
The taste buds just starve,
Beholding those chocolates,
It’s impossible to stop drooling!!
The condition may turn hapless,
If I don’t pick up a snicker,
My hands just grab it,
The bar is naked in no time,
My lips rest on the bar,
Slowly, but eagerly,
I take my time,
To let it melt,
To experience what’s in the crust,
To let the soft fluid ooze out itself,
THAT’S something I don’t wanna miss,
And after that it’s just a heavenly bliss……..

ZIT SHIT!!!

2007-12-08T21:21:00.001+05:30

Zit shit
(zit=pimple *slang*)

Mom : Why are you trying to burst that pimple out?

Me : Huh!?! What kind of a question is that? Why shouldn’t I?

Mom : It will get worse and you might develop a scar.

Me : So what do you want me to do? Let it be there so that my friends notice that and point it out to me-hey Manu, see there’s a pimple on your nose…how did you get it?

Mom : So? Let them tell that…why does it matter?

Me : Do you see this *pointing my finger at the tip of my nose* . you know how embarrassing this is? This pimple..you know you can extract enough oil from it to cook your dinner tonight!

Mom : Yeah, I thought that too. But will it taste good? *my mom..huh!!..talk bout adding oil to the fire*

Me : Mom…you know there’s a party tonight… how do I go there with this mountain adorning my nose!… *tears, tears and more of them* I can compete with Mt.Everest now!

Mom :Acha, try applying toothpaste, maybe it will subside by evening…

Me : What haven’t I tried?? Sandalwood, neem paste, some stupid gel, everything…I have tried everything…it’s just the hill that it was yesterday…and yes there’s snow on the top too..and now you tell me bout this toothpaste??
Mom :*sniggers* Yeah it’s winter no?? By the way it’s the pus *do I come across as such a moron? Huh?!?*It will work…trust me.

Me :*disgusted look* Mom? I am not giving this thing any other chance to survive…I am gonna kill it…and mom don’t try to stop me…

Mom :You know what I wonder sometimes, why are pimples always ‘round’ in shape? Why can’t they be triangular, square, rectangle….
*I interrupt*

Me : Mom what hogwash are you talking about? This is pretty serious…this thing is perched upon my nose since last four days…four days…I am confined in this house since last four days…I haven’t stepped out…this is so embarrassing…like a house arrest! *tears, tears, tears…..*

Mom : Wasting your tears for such petty matter…you have gone crazy…

Me :holy cow, ok….am off to sleep…am not touching it…I will sleep whole day so that I can’t think bout it!!

I wake up to see that ‘thing’ bigger than ever… and the next day there’s another one on my cheek…as they say-a drowning man is not troubled by rain……

The Fate Of Infidelity

2007-12-08T21:19:00.000+05:30

Abhishek sat there, with his eyes opened in utter shock and terror. He couldn’t well digest or believe it what he was reading. His wife could do this to him? Arundhati? The world started spinning around him. He wanted this revelation to be a concealment that he could hide from himself. He didn’t want it to be accepted as a truth. This jungle of thoughts made him go ballistic. Suddenly an air of nostalgia grew thick….

They lay on the beach, the warm zephyr blowing Arundhati’s curls. Their gazes met. Abhishek could hardly deny that he had ever been this deep in someone’s eyes. This depth though gave a floating feeling to him. A feeling he didn’t want to come out of, not even if the world ended. They epitomized a pure form of love that could not get tainted by betraying any laws of the society, because their parents were in strong opposition of their love.

“Marry me. And ya, I am not asking you. That’s an order.” She laughed. He found her response in her tears of happiness.

Both being doctors, they found solace only when they came home. Being together was the thing they craved for. As they say happiness doesn’t last longer. Abhishek met with an accident that resulted in the amputation of his right hand. A gynecologist. His world ended before him. Down the years he became more and more reclusive, indicating no signs of happiness on his face. Arundhati’s futile efforts to cheer him up, left her starve for a feeling of belonging, love and care.
That day she came in home a little agitated.
He said, “I have made a decision. I am joining a call center. I can’t live on your expense day in and day out. It’s eating me, this feeling of dependence. I hope you don’t mind. Now I think we will be meeting only on weekends.”
Why couldn’t he find another job. she didn’t dare to ask him.

Their communication grew drastically less. He seemed to be always busy and even her concern for him deteriorated. Even on weekends, they would struggle for words. Even their eyes stopped speaking. They saw their relationship going nowhere, but none of them had any reasons for why it should end.
They let it fade, naturally.
---------------------------------**************-----------------------------------
She entered the room. Least had she expected that Abhishek would be in her room and that too with her personal diary in his hand. His look of terror made her ask-“have you been reading my personal diary??”

“Yes, and I want you out of my house. Now.”
“Who are you to tell me that. I too live here.”

“I don’t want to live with a bitch like you. Do you realize that Aruna is a woman? A woman? You are going around with a woman??”
“THAT was just an accident. You have to understand and trust me. She was the one who made advances. I totally avoided her.”
“Wasn’t she one of your fucking patients? Just get lost. I am getting creeps, seeing you in front of my eyes.”
“But try to understand me… why cant you believe me?”
“I have got no reason to believe you. You have shown what you are. GET LOST.”
“Fine. I too am sick of your cloistered behavior.”

She left the house….not with tears but with a big grin on her face. Along the corner, she was waiting. Aruna. “You are ingenious aruna. He read the diary. Our plan worked. It was flawless. I knew he would read the diary that was kept open!! Getting out of his life I feel like a bird. Its good to be out of confinement. Now I am all yours.”

There Abhishek sat with a phone in his hand,” Come over Anne darling, there’s no one in the house, forever.”

When i began to understand the beauty of words...

2007-12-08T21:08:00.000+05:30

Lately, I have been bitten by this bug of writing. Four years back this was the same thing I abhorred intensely…why? Only because I wasn’t good at it! Just the thought of writing 300 words essays gave me creeps and my hands started sweating…and the result would be some crap that resembled the writing of a fifth standard student.

Here’s an example…yeah, yeah have a good laugh..

The essay title is “A visit to a historical monument”…written way back when I was in 9th std.

This Diwali vacation our school arranged a picnic to Taj Mahal. We had to pay two hundred rupees for that.(only??) We traveled by train. It was a journey of fun and frolic. (I know the start’s miserable and you guys are guffawing..more fun ahead)
The arrival time of the train was at morning 7 a.m. We went by Taj express. The wonderful scenery enticed me (my futile attempts to use good vocab) and others. Time went by and we didn’t even realize that it was time to sleep. We slept comfortably. We reached Agra in the morning, the next day. (this is so pathetic!!! Full of grammatical errors…d’uh. Did I really write this? )

Taj Mahal was built at the expensive rate of more than 6 crore rupees ( who said that? Such a pheku I was ). It took more than 300 years to be constructed. (300??? I could I write such a dumb thing???what on earth was i thinking?)

Okay back to some serious business. My ma’am used to laugh at this and insult me. Soon before I knew she used to avoid my doubts, and pretend that she was imbibed in teaching other students. That taught me one thing- make a resolution and most importantly abide by it.

So I poured over my oxford dictionary for hours and hours together…learning the meanings, the structure, the origin, the usage…everything…read numerous novels…ransacked the newspapers for any new word I could find..I never used to read until I faced this disgrace…and then I fell in love….with words…I never imagined how an assimilation of words could weave such beautiful stories…it was like opening an Aladdin’s cave. ..

And then I started writing…I had left my tuitions after the shame. The first time I faced her after my transition…she was extremely pleased…and that certainly was a boost…"Nanjangud ma’am (my English tutor) wherever you are I owe everything to you…" I wish I could meet her and tell her how thankful I am to her…for she was the one who taught me, of course unknowingly, the beauty of words…

Here I would like to quote a paragraph from a book called “Totto-Chan” –
‘ Down through the ages, Watt and Newton cannot have been the only ones to notice the steam from a boiling kettle or observe an apple fall. Having eyes, but not seeing beauty; having ears, but not hearing music; having eyes, but not perceiving the truth; having hearts, but never set on fire.’

She set my heart on fire and made me see the beauty…and yes there’s lot remaining to be explored……..

I made an alien happy!!!

2007-12-02T20:25:00.000+05:30

Thanks to the alien!!!
From Manisha

Fellow readers and bloggers of my “much acclaimed, highly praised, much admired, applauded, celebrated, infinitely extolled, beautifully adorned and commended” blog (the narcissist I am :P )…..

Zahid is such a wonderful person and blogger and friend and a saintly soul as much as he is an alien with a mind as witty, satiric, stupid and nonsensical as a fox

He has such a beautiful mind, you know…
Always ready to help others…
Always empathizing with someone,
Always a good son, a friend and in future the best dad and best husband,
Always on the pinnacle, whatever it is-academics, sports…

P.S. I was drugged into writing this…he creates this hypnosis…sends an e-mail with a virus that flies off your pc and attacks your cerebral system and voila! there u are hallucinating about all the self-proclaimed good qualities of Zahid. Well I didn’t erase this as I thought about not letting his hypnosis fail and the good soul I am, I wont let anything’ bad’ happen to anyone…only the’ worst’ :P…

And yes Zahid, we won’t burn your effigies and shout the dethroning slogan. Neither will you be taken to the gallows!! Instead, I would like to say-
“If humor were dollar, if satire cent and words penny, Zahid would have been a millionaire”

Relax, zzzz..zzzzzz…*yawns* ..ahid… I’m aware how much you love exaggeration…so don’t start whooping and getting delirious with joy…and stop dancing like a monkey

I can be very benevolent at times.
Adieu for now!!

P.S. oiee…when are we directing the movie??

Aliens invading Manisha's blog !!!!

2007-11-30T01:53:00.000+05:30

Dear People!!! This is not MANISHA. Let me first make it clear that I did not hack manisha's account and made a mess of her Nice Blog !!! I was invited to write here !!! (And Yipee !!!! i am so happy) So, please frenz and fellow homo sapiens dont hate me and ( register a police complaint and burn my effigies and shout 'dethrone zahid' slogans !!! )

Am I supposed to make a legal statement of some kind ( Puttin my hand upon the Holy Book ) "I , in the name of god solemnly declare that I'll write only nice things and nothing but the nice things " and then before i am taken to gallows for the crime of posting this crap my last wish would be to have a comment on this post by whom but manisha herself !!!!

First let me show you her orkut profile.It reads :

" A BAFFLED DONKEY LIVIN IN A STRANGE LAND OF ECCENTRICITY, CUCKOOS HAVE MADE ME STAND AMIDST THE SOPORIFIC HUMAN BEINGS, AND ALL THE YEARS I WAS IN UTOPIA I WAS BELIEVIN LIFE IS MATHS AND THE CONICS AND NOW THAT I AM TETHERED IN THE LABYRINTH OF THIS WORLD I AM LEFT WITH NOTHING TO DO EXCEPT OPENING PANDORAS BOXES"

Oops !!!! sorry !! It somehow got jumbled up!!!! ( You see i couldnt remember all that vocabulary...may be it would be better if i just copy and paste !!! )

It actually is :

"BAFFLED AMIDST THE LABYRINTH OF THIS WORLD, IT TOOK ME DONKEY YEARS TO KNOW MYSELF.ALWAYS LIVIN IN A CLOUD CUCKOO LAND OF UTOPIA,THE ECCENTRICITY OF HUMAN BEINGS AND MATHS(IF U KNOW BOUT THE SOPORIFIC CONICS!!!) HAVE MADE ME STAND AT MY TETHER. PERSONALLY BELIEVIN LIFE IS A PANDORAS BOX WHICH V ALL OPEN IN A STRANGE WAY"

Ahem......
.
.
.
So, What do i write?? It is difficult to write in other's blogs with the same freedom you have for your own. You take into account 'will this go down well with the owner' and other such thoughts !! (The difficulties of being a tenant). But somehow i am very happy writing this post !!!

So, all you lovers of manisha's blog who hav come on this page to read her penning, hope i havent disappointed you !!!

- - - - - > Z a H ! D

SOPORIFIC..

2007-11-24T21:34:00.000+05:30

i am bored of da same fonts...d'uh!!.....no innovations ...da same old 8 type of fonts....da stupidd colors...wich if u use u cant read a thing...boo hoo hoo.....dnt u think "blogspot" shud be UPDATED!!

THE TRUE MARTYR

2007-11-23T21:36:00.000+05:30

The true Martyr

He entered through the door,
With an infectious smile on his face,
Seeing the empty seats galore,
He entered the class with a daze!

Glancing the professor, the only human in class,
He took his seat, embarrassing his own ‘bunker’ fame,
Feeling like a total jackass,
He said to himself-God, I take thy name.

‘Help me from the haplessness that’s gonna come,
let my heart not cease breathing,
lemme not yield to boredom,
with this book in my hand, I am not leaving.‘

He thought about sex,
He thought about gals,
Nevertheless, his weariness he couldn’t vex,
As he was forlorn, without his pals.

Then the bell rung dong ding,
But, he succumbed to his boredom,
At the funeral they said,
‘He was at heart a fighter,
so,
This bench is dedicated to the famous martyr,
Who died, waiting for the bell to ring.’

THE GLACIERS FALL...

2007-11-23T21:34:00.000+05:30

THE GLACIERS FALL…

We stood tall,
We were white,
We were beautiful,
You were in awe, seeing all our might.

Now we die,
Now we melt,
You cite one cause,
“It’s global warming around the world belt!”

it’s so easy, for you to say,
none of you want to take the blame,
you shout,” keep pollution at bay”
we see our mother nature crying in pain.

You will die one day,
You will perish too,
Mitigate your comforts,
Alleviate your luxury,
Yes, we say so, while it’s true,
Do it for the cause of humanity,
Do it for you!

ARACHNOPHOBIA

2007-11-23T21:32:00.000+05:30

Arachnophobia

The twisted fans, which were askewed at wrong angles made me think or better assured me that the class must have produced many historic and famed hooligans. The benches were dusty and there was this miasmic ambience in the class!! Who will guess that this petrifying place was my exam center?? The eerie atmosphere gave me a premonition that something bad was going to happen!!

With trembling hands I picked up my copy of question and answer. Not before I finished the first question I felt a tickling sensation on my hand. Ignoring it at the first sight, I realized what I missed to see. You know what it was??? A BIG SPIDER!! How I strangulated a scream arising from my vocal chords god only knows! I was dumbstruck, totally. My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t help notice that it was crawling on me…ME??

I couldn’t get off it!! Thank god it ran down to my..err…answer paper!! Forgetting that I had an exam to write I started chanting fervently…name of my god, which was intervened by my thoughts about spiders.

Why couldn’t have god made them having only four legs?? A normal species has four legs. But spiders, spiders have 8 legs…how many??? 8!! So damn disgusting!! At the same time I started to think about people who could rescue me out of this situation.

1. Remember our own ol’ Garfield?? Didn’t he used to kill and gulp them down?? Why couldn’t he be here with me?? Wasn’t this spider appetizing enough?

2. OR the heartthrob Ronald Weasley!!! Remember he hates and fears spiders like anything. If he were here he could have shared this testing times…with me. Don’t you guys think Rowling attaches much importance to spiders in her novels?? Remember The Chamber Of Secrets?? And the Triwizard Tournament where Harry has to give an answer to the sphinx?? And the answer is SPIDER!! Now can she help me

3. Even the legendary Spiderman!! Does he even care for me?? What if this spider bites me and I turn into a Spiderwoman?? Why can’t he come and take off with his own tribe?? Or come to save me??

Why couldn’t this spider transcend a normal behavior and just GO?? Then something happened that I couldn’t even imagine in my wildest dream!! I just smacked it!!!! Why that killing (or gory, I would prefer) gave me a sense of happiness I can’t tell ya!! Maybe a sadistic pleasure!! That thing was dead now!! Kudos to me!! Glancing upon the rigor mortis that lay on my desk, I started writing my paper with a sigh of relief!

P.S: For all ya people who don’t know what Arachnophobia is-its fear of spiders!!

The EMU halt

2007-11-23T21:31:00.000+05:30

The EMU halt
(Enduring and murdering under trial)

Ok. I am prepared for the battle. I hang my bag in the front, tie my stole, adjust my hair and await the arrival of Mumbai’s lifeline- a cliché it may sound but is the most apt one for our local trains.

And if you think I am exaggerating the STEPPING IN process of entering a local train, you get it wrong. Entering a local train is synonymous with going to a battle except that you have no one feeding you curd with sugar and the worst-you go to the battlefield without any weapons…
So, I am at the station. The train arrives as swiftly as a gust of a wind. Comes to a halt. I push, pull, drag, haul, and lug. And what happens?? A lady getting down knocks me right off my way and I see my train bidding me farewell…
Hmmm. Right then, with a strong determination, with a MIGHTY HEART, I try convincing myself that the next train will be seized by me. Let the worse situations turn up. I will fight. (Remember I told ya bout battlefield??!!?)

The queen comes. Yippee I am the first IN-GOER (coined by me). But all things do not come with ease. Either you fight them or you succumb to them. I select the first one.
What happens is, the knot of my stole comes off, strangulates me (until I die..), the chain of my bag gets stuck up somewhere, I am totally unknown of the fact as to who’s stamping on my foot as if callously killing a cockroach. I try to breathe but instead of oxygen I manage breathing the horrible sweaty odor. So two rules if you are an amateur in a train-

1. Never wear a stole, unless you want to suicide!!
2. Always spray a whiff of perfume on you before leaving home unless you want to faint smelling yourself (I know that sounds disgusting, but that’s true!!)
At last, I clear my way out. Time to celebrate. Victory smells so good!! Seat anywhere??? I see two fatsos. Do I ask them to move?? I do. A ray of hope brightens my prospects of getting a seat and relaxing my cockroach-crushed and almost strangulated neck. I tell them to move. They do. In the sense of just swinging their bodies and expressing themselves as being such sacrificing women giving a part of their seat to me.

I can’t sit there!!!! Damn it! I get up and move towards the window so that I can at least stand easily. The ladies glare at me and say –“please hat jayie. Hawa nahi aa rahi hai.”What?????? Fine. Lets make a deal. I throw you out of the window and then you inhale as much hawa you want… yesno??
But trains are good entertainers as much as they are ‘suffering givers’. You get to listen to some really interesting gossip about the neighbor’s son’s wife’s brother’s girlfriend. Phew!! And some really terrifying and obviously unbelievable stories about ghost haunting this train. And if you are in the gent’s compartment and if you are goddamn lucky, you get to ogle at those handsome hunks. What a visual treat!!
The antaksharis, the talks about the new cool dude in your neighborhood, your latest break up…all of them reveal their personal diaries here!!

My station arrives. I glance a look of myself in the mirror. I look close to a zombie with entangled hair, beads of sweat dripping down my skin making squirrel lines on my face and crumpled up clothes!!

P.S: Wonder who’s getting in next to face a similar situation like mine!!

P.P.S: Also wondering how many more fights I have to fight….and win!!!!

BLOW, BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND

2007-11-23T21:29:00.000+05:30

Blow,blow,blow thou winter wind

"Perhaps I am a bear,
or some hibernating animal underneath,
for the instinct to be half asleep all winter
is so strong in me."
~~By Anne Morrow Lindbergh.~~

Ooohh…here we go again! Its winter! I just wish it snowed here! Till then, I am showering cotton around my house..he he..

Ugh..the saddest part however is..the tree in front of my house…*cries..sniff..sobs*…there are no leaves left on it..not even a single one..just three weeks ago..there were striking parakeets and parrots and squirrels fluttering here and there….how it looks withered…poor thing..how I stared it for hours when I had nothing to do!!

Now I hear the swish-swoosh of cold winds, sometimes unbearable but inevitable..

Nevertheless……I am loving it!! *No, no I am not eating a burger!!* ……Aagh the cold mornings….just the perfect time when you love your blankets more than anything else in the world!
And and…when the warm sunbeams fall on me, I feel…mnmn…paradise!!!!…..never did I love the sun sooooo much!!
What more? The only season when you save electricity..(no, I don’t use heaters!!)

And and….the insects and animals hibernate……what a relief from those troublesome pests..(Do you remember the grasshopper and the ant story..i don’t why I mentioned…I just remembered..:P)

Four months of sheer bliss for me….yeah!!!…I even love the clatter of my teeth….and those wintry nights…try cuddling up to someone you are affectionate with…da best panacea….cold buster you know…mesmerizing and divine….

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure in the
landscape - the loneliness of it - the dead feeling of winter.
Something waits beneath it - the whole story doesn't show.
- Andrew W

2007-06-24T12:17:00.000+05:30

THE FORTY WINKS STORY…

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”
“What?”
“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.”
“How?”
“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.”
“Huh?”
“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?”
“Dunno.”
************************************************************************************
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.”
______________________________*********__________________________________

2007-06-24T12:14:00.000+05:30

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...

2007-06-24T12:12:00.000+05:30

OF WATER AND SENTIMENTS….

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…

2007-06-24T12:09:00.000+05:30

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!!!!

2007-06-24T12:06:00.000+05:30

THE RESOLUTION
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.”

ACT OF DEFIANCE:
MORAL: Resolutions are meant to be broken. And burnt.

2007-06-24T12:04:00.000+05:30

THE ETERNAL WAIT

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.”

2007-06-24T12:02:00.001+05:30

THE INHERITANCE OF LOSS

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.”

2007-06-24T11:34:00.000+05:30

The infatuated crush

2007-06-24T11:31:00.000+05:30

SET ABLAZED ON MY MEMORY
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?”

2007-06-03T18:02:00.000+05:30

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!!
*********
END OF THE DAY!!
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??