Whistleblower…who lost the whistle!

What do you do when you chance upon an explosive piece of information that can stir things up in an already chaotic environment? Do you believe in your own luck or start questioning it…do you share it with anyone… or sit on it till the time is ripe… how do you know that the time is ripe anyways?

If you have any sense of morality, you approach the authorities and let fate/law take its own course of action…what do you do if your morality needs a crash course in counseling? Do you drown yourself in the elixir of life or rummage through tech handbooks for that button camera?

If you are yours truly, you very lamely present it to the top brass without any corroborating evidence and hope that the genius of your luck sandblasts the film of mediocrity coursing through your veins…failing which there is always the infinite digital space to rant and rave!

But what if that explosive piece explodes into nothing more than a whimper and hushed even further by watchdogs of the corrupt? Do sit back and lament how your luck has run out or how you were not smart enough to cash in or how you had no morals that your conscience didn’t even prick a teeny weeny bit?

Nah! You just move on… put everything in perspective and give in to fate! Or post an ambiguous status on Facebook? Or buy a real whistle like me?

Restraining Order

In this age of dime a dozen Fatwas, PILS, RTI acts and eons of such legal babble, it is quite common to hear the phrase Restraining Order or Gag Order. Everyone, right from a delivery boy of trans-fat laden fast food to the waited at hand and feet heir knows the legal parlance made with a quest to confuse.

After immersing myself in the dusty and busy bylanes of Google and Wikipedia, at the cost of much needed sleep and an urge to dash to the toilet for empting myself of bodily fluids every 15 minutes, I completed my research and restrained myself to jump about and celebrate.

But what does this Restraining Order do? According to the heavy and dusty law books - A restraining order or order of protection is a form of legal injunction. The term is most commonly used in reference to domestic violence, harassment, stalking or sexual assault.

While there are differences from state to state or case to case, the bottom line is for the abuser to stay away from someone, their home, their workplace or their school and to stop contacting them. Victims generally also can ask the court to order that all contact, whether by telephone, notes, mail, fax, email or delivery of flowers or gifts, is prohibited.

I have been always been accused of being restrained in my behavior…in the sense that my emotions don’t display themselves in full force. This has always been at variant with my self-belief of being a highly sensitive person.

So when a restraining order was slapped on me by my seniors, I like most Indians jumped in glee …finally here is my road to glory, atleast now everyone will remember me with that faint aftertaste of disdain…. “Oh…she, the one with a restraining order….she was horrible at her work, we all thought she was gonna get under the pressure and with like the others, but she managed to do the unthinkable….like a rabbit out of the hat, she pulled a restraining order and is now the toast of all and sundry…remind me to ask her how she managed to do it”

But I am slightly confused about the Do’s and Don’ts of this order. According to my instructions, I am …

1. Not supposed to interact with the victim
2. Not supposed to make eye contact with the victim
3. Not supposed to greet the victim in a friendly fashion
4. Not supposed to breathe in the general direction of the victim

But does that mean that ….

1. I cannot offer them a hand if they slip on a banana peel (of course they will, I will put the peel for them)
2. I cannot get up and offer a chair in a crowded room (after having made sure that the room has just one less chair than needed)
3. I cannot crack jokes within earshot of the victim
4. I cannot re-interrupt the interruption caused by the victim

Maybe I should just take a hike and dismiss all these as playful imagination as a result of a hectic and unpredictable soirée of Khel Khel Mein.

Tears!

Slowly silently they flow, traversing through various layers of makeup and emotions. They have a mission too… they need to know if they are the real McCoy’s or cheap replicas found at the click of a reality camera crew.
Like everything under the sun, they also have a fixed rate of growth and undergo yearly appraisals. Nowadays with high level of stress, they are also frequently under the scanner of a shrink who will analyze them and rate them and label them. Some of them are starting a union against such random commercialization of the humble fluid. So they have put together a list of the various forms that they can manifest itself and hereby declare that all others are fake!
1. The Silent Trickle – Associated with the strong and silent types, this happens under extreme emotions, usually in public…often without the help of any other bodily movements as the entire nervous system concentrates to stop the trickle.

2. The Unstoppable Gush-These ones always come with loud sound effects which some may call crying but is actually a lot of incoherence. It is always advisable to have someone nearby to hold and comfort otherwise it dies it’s naturally death in 6-7 sec.

3. The Slow Drip or the Chinese Drip – This is usually reserved for people who have a huge load to carry and have no time to express their real self so caught up they are in day to day existence. Like the Chinese water torture, they torture they come to haunt in regular intervals.

4. The Treacherous Torrent – This is somewhat similar to the Unstoppable Gush but is much greater in magnitude, it can cause the heartbeats to completely stop.

5. Crocodile Ooze – This is the common variant that everyone is exposed to. It is easily acceptable and identified. However, it is only effective in getting attention, for real catharsis one has to try the above four.

Of course various permutations and combination of the five can always happen and each of the five sects have their own level of intensities.
These Socio-chemical fluids which emotions bring forth are a rather strange breed. One never knows when they will strike and when they will fade. The anticipation is enough to reduce one to tears. But like most emotions, they are just looking for an outlet …to escape …to breakout from the confines of these so called emotions… coz once they reach the atmospheric world they can either sublime into vapor or seep right back into the folds of the epidermis. It is their choice.
Unlike humans, who cannot choose which way to shed them… when one really wants to go full throttle, the silent’s trickle out…when one wants to hush the trickles, the torrents are unleashed. It’s like they have a mind of their own. Only the crocodile is submissive. It listens and does exactly as it is told. But then who wants a crocodile anyways.
Just for that one torrent to wash away all the worries, just for that one gush to unclog all the memories… so that new ones can be stored… so that happy ones can be displayed … so that one be free.

I was rejected

For the first time, I felt very humbled in my life… and all for a few kilos….I had just been thinking that I need to lose all that flab from my midriff… and while I am at it, maybe work on my upper arms …few inches less would be nice….but the attendant killed my self-image… no not just killed, but twisted the knife also.
I had thought that I was invincible …what with my never say die attitude and positive outlook and staunch faith in the adage that “karm kar phal ka asha mat rakh”…so then how did I get rejected… I am the perfect modern day single independent woman…who has the world at her feet…how dare he reject me??
All I wanted was to go and do my two-bit for this kid who was battling blood cancer… she needed blood… blood I had… am human ....not an avatar….but apparently not…my blood was not good enough.
I never felt so humbled in my life… it was as if God was saying… “Smruti, you have been taking things for granted… especially your life… you have had it easy… now is the time to pull up your socks… let this be a warning”.
And I really am a bit scared… what if my other friends and colleagues were like me…then the poor kid would have not gotten her doze of O+ve, just because we modern day independent people like our daily tipple… luckily it was not an emergency situation…. Luckily my friends are not as cocky and stupid as me.
That’s it, I have decided, I will try and lead a much healthier life…will exercise not to lose the flab, but to increase my stamina and will try and kick my other bad habits.
Thank you, Anu, Mariam, Unni, Ankush, Vatsala, Priya, Sidharth and Radhika for coming to my rescue…and thank you God for sending that attendant to save my life.

Of Movies, Musings and Mixed Feelings

After a long time I watched 2 movies back to back--- Raat gayi, Baat Gayi? and 3 idiots… now am feeling compelled to write about them. It’s not a film review…I am not qualified to be a film critic (although as my friend Varun says, being a film critic is now the “in” thing, everybody with a blog is one!). I just want to write whether I got my money’s worth in those 6 hours that I spent in the theatre munching popcorn.
Everybody has some expectations when they go for a movie… my expectation is to be entertained by the audio visuals playing on the screen –be it through comedy, action, drama, romance, etc… as long as I feel that I didn’t waste my time, as long as I wish that I was rather doing something else, I wouldn’t dish a movie.
No No, I am not dishing either of the movies… both were good … I didn’t feel like I was wasting my time. Although one was a slice of life peppered with some smart observations and witty repartees, the other was larger than life with great locations. I remember Rajkumar Hirani’s munnabhai series and how I’d loved them and I was equally impressed with this one… he manages to take the simplest, everyday theme (loved the argument of the pen is space… many students do ask that including me) and turn it into a magnum opus with ease (barring the recent credit controversies). That’s what I call telling a story is (compared to a recent blockbuster that I saw that had everyone raving about which was to me only a techfest with all fancy special effects and nothing more).
However, I am a little concerned why the other movie Raat Gayi, Baat Gayi only had 6 other people in the theatre as compared to all the idiots who crammed up the entire auditorium for the other one. RGBG was also a story well told, however I guess, it was a niche idea…appealing only to those who lead such lives, there was nothing aspirational about any of the characters…nobody would have liked to be the suave and successful Rahul Kapoor (Rajat Kapoor), the wimpy, sleazy, cute Amit (Vinay Pathak), the discreet Saxsena (Dillip Tahil) juxtaposed with their respective wives housewife seeking her identity Mitali (Iravati Harshe), dealing with wayward husband Nandita (Anu Menon) or the resigned trying to fit in Jolly (Navneet Nishaan) or the catalyst amongst them all the mysterious, sexy, seductive Sophiya/Archana (Neha Dhupia). Although deep down, many would have identified themselves with atleast one of the characters, few would want to be known as one.
Both the stories were told using past and present tense, both the movies had good actors who did justice to the characters they were portraying, however one is successful and the other is not. And the only reason that I find is that where one holds up a mirror and shows the reality as it is, the other wraps up the mirror in layers of hope. Where both end with a positive and hopeful note, one does it subtlety the other with fanfare.
And that is the difference Mr. Bhagat, whereas your book was witty, cynical and concentrated on the lives of the protagonists; the movie was funny, hopeful and sent a message to all through the protagonist. Although, I don’t know if justifies the makers/producers of the movie to dole out credits at the beginning or at the end, it is purely their call, since IT IS their product.
However, two things which made me feel a bit cheated were the Sanskrit shloks about farting and the drive from Delhi to Leh…just for the fact that the very same shloks were popular during my salad days (I would have liked to see some new forms) and the drive to Manali to Leh is 20 hours backbreaking journey and having done that recently was a bit upset with the ease with which the 2 idiots found the 3 rd one without any altitude sickness!
The mixed feelings are completely not related to the movies or musings on the same… they are about my own self…which is so selfish that it would rather enjoy watching the movie instead of going back home to be in time for a bro, who is tired after a long vigil at the hospital to nurse a ten year olds battle against cancer. Is that the power that Mr. Hirani wove over me and millions of other audiences to get the cash registers on fire or is it my dysfunctional life that finds solace in celluloid than in real life?

How I got Leh'ed

In a nutshell...It all happened one drunken night...alcohol is one of the greatest stimulants of the creative juices... and coupled with the fact that my project was ending, me and my equally notorious 'out of work' friend decided to make this trip.
So with bags packed for about a month we left our cozy homes and unpaid bills and landed up in Delhi with nothing more than eager anticipation to get Leh'ed, the tickets and bookings be damned.
Apart from the obvious turn-on of the arduous trip through majestic peaks and succulent valleys, capturing the same on camera was a major thrill.... maybe we would get angles that no one has managed so far!
The preparation was not anything to write home about... it was the usual game ... but reaching the first base was the clincher... once you have reached the first base then making a touchdown is not a big deal (I mean how difficult can it get?)
Well the first leg was easy but then it was all uphill (literally) with at least 5 passes to cross…and boy was the ride rough and smooth in bursts…just when you thought that you had conquered one peak, then rose another majestic one… the whole journey was one overwhelming experience… you didn’t know where to look …you were surrounded by such beauty….certainly God was taking his time when he was creating this one!
Before starting on this ride, like a proverbial expert, I had thought I would finish it off in one day with a few hours to spare…but even before halfway through it I was tired… I was tired of the overwhelming feeling …tired of being so inadequate in front of such majestic beauty… tired of anticipating the climax. I was not sure if I wanted to continue… I wanted out… I chickened… I was not sure anymore if I wanted to be Leh’ed ;)
But then once in, you cannot opt out… it’s a one way ticket… so I geared myself and shrunk deep down in my jacket...peeping out once in a while to see if it was really there or I was hallucinating.
As soon as darkness fell, the ride became even bumpier… God’s sense of humour! And to make matters worse, we lost our way in those undulating trails and kept going around in circles. By the time we reached anywhere closer to touchdown, we were battered, bruised, exhausted, looked like something that the cat had dragged but our spirits were high… we were more than excited to get a first glimpse of what we had heard was one of the greatest. The high it gave me on was almost enough to make me breathless on that snowy night… or it could actually be the low oxygen content in that thin mountain air.
Well, what can I say, the first time was not good enough for me … the build-up makes it inaccessible. You would want it to respond to you, but like all first timers, I fumbled my way through it… the pressure just makes it stressfull…that and coupled with a brain freeze, closed road signs and snow all over.
Untill next time, and I will make sure that it is the season of love and not some harebrained wild goose chase up sinewy mountainous track. And yes, will take care of the brain freeze next time. So I will be Leh’ed nice and proper in the old fashioned way, eh…what.

Leaving on a Jet Plane….Dont Know when I will be Back Again!

Well…not exactly leaving on a jet plane… but what the heck the rest of it is true… I am going to LEH-LADDAK….finally……..YAAAY!!!!!!!!

Just two friends who have no work (one by choice, the other by laziness) no money (no work no money), no plan (we believe in figuring out stuff on the way---naah, we are just lazy).

So the woolens are packed, the resolute steady…coz everything else is awry…. No bookings, no tickets, no backup plan, no knight in shining armour to rescue 2 distressed damsels (may happen), no angel to guide two adventurous city girls through the dark cold lonely desert!

Well…we both have different motives on going on this trip… and that has made me think why do people travel? Why do they pack their lives in 2 suitcases and hang a camera on their necks and go to places far far away and then call home and tell their family that they miss them? Why do people travel…so that they can click pictures, put them on facebook so that the whole world can see them??

Is it to get away from the mundane life … is it to explore that adventurous side of them, is it to see the beauty of another terrain-the culture, the food…to explore oneself …to find answers to life’s mysteries?

Well… I will only know after I have made that trip… maybe I will clear my head… maybe I will find answers to what I am looking for…but I am sure to have memories that make this trip special… stories to tell everyone.. and pictures that capture these moments (of course I will upload them!)…so Julley!

Go Green!

The environmentalists are waking up now, I have been following the green bandwagon even before it was fashionable for the size zeroes to say 'kareena'. Although my love for the colour green had more to do with hormonal changes where in instead of checking out the fuzz on a man's face I preferred to study the designs of his cobbler.

Little did I know that the fad would put in an unusual spot in the future.

So when God with that twisted humour of his decided to spice things up ... few inglourious basterds came into the picture and saved the day.

I was left wondering how and why this whole situation arose... and am left with no answers... its one of those cosmic capers that make life so wonderful and confused at the same time... the confusion is solely the fault of my cynical nature and has nothing to do with the winged creature with the angelic smile.

Many have commented on the strangeness of the choice including yours truly, but strange are the ways of the estrogen and I have learned to live with it by now I guess.

Although the icing of the cake is that the bloke in question has moved from green to blue!

MySpace

Finally I am on My Space... no no ... not the networking site, but My Space literally... I moved from my PG digs to a rented apartment which I can call my own...since I am the only person stayin there... nobody else... Its me and meri tanhai...

So let me describe the new place for once and for all... Its a small cozy place with a small bedroom and a living room and kitchen together... of course there is a bathroom attached to the bedroom --- and thats it... thats the end of my well... now I can happily sit in my well and croak away to glory.

So my day begins by waking up and realizing that I can hog the newspaper, dont have to make breakfast according to somebody else's taste buds... since this is a great start to the day, the rest of the day passes equally brilliant.

So, here's to MySpace...where I can pretend to be Superman, Charlies Angels (all 3), Jamie Oliver, Jackie Chan, Ellen Degeneres, Chandler, Monica (more often) while cooking, cleaning and enjoy this new found independence!

Do Miracles Happen??

Please say they do...coz I desperately need one right now.... I left my handycam in the cab... now all God needs to do is ensure that the cabbie sees it, overcomes the lure of easy money and notices his golden heart and comes back to return it. Can something like this happen??

Well, I don't know... all I can do is kick myself and believe that miracles happen...

But how conditional is my love for God... I will start believing in miracles if and only if my handycam finds its way back to me somehow, but if I dont get my handycam back, then I will turn a cynical eye to all the mysterious ways of God.

Why are we so conditional... why are we so attached to materialistic things... I don't remember feeling so miserable when my cousin bro passed away 5 days ago, at a very young age. How come a piece of engineered goods means more than a human life, how come miracles start making sense only when we lose any other hope of logic?

I have no answers yet... but now I do know that I am as conditional and materialistic as the next person... its a double blow to me... first the loss, second the realization.

Well, the good thing is that all these philosophical musings may take my mind off the loss.

However, if anyone finds a sony handycam with 2 GB memory stick (newly bought - thats why I was carrying the bloody camera in an amchi mumbai cab) in a black travel bag with a chance that my visiting card inside, please do return it back.

God....I do believe in you... I always have ... and I do believe in miracles as well...

Terrific Thirties

I know it... my thirties will be terrific... As only few hours are left for me to be pushed into the whirlwind of responsibilities... I somehow feel liberated... free and eager...

All things that could have gone wrong with me has gone wrong... but that has not bothered me yet...I see it as a new beginning.

I have resigned from my current job with no offer in hand, I have a family to support, I don't have enough savings, I don't have a place to call my own, I don't have a name which is worth reckoning yet, I do not have a godfather... yet I anticipate that my thirties will be terrific... a far cry from my troublesome twenties...

But was my twenties troublesome?? I had the most amazing time working, studying, travelling, heart break, responsibilities ... it was quite a learning experience... I don't regret it ...infact I had so many new experiences in my twenties that I don't think the thirties will be able to beat that... there were so many firsts...

The moving out from parents, the first kiss ever (ok ok...so I was not exactly twenty...but I was closer to it ...felt as if I was in my twenties rather than in my teens), my first proper job not an odd job (I started earning in my teens), my first joint, first time drinking alone, first relationship, first trip alone, first huge fight to assert my independence, first time realization that I am all alone, first time elation in realising that I am all alone, first time booked for drunken driving, first time tattoo... wow that's some list that I am not ashamed off...

My plan for the thirties??? No plan... just live life ... listen to self...

Well, now that I have some idea what I want in life, I am excited... besides in my mind I was already 35, so the whole idea of entering the thirties doesn't scare me... or bother me...

I know that my thirties are going to be even wilder and unpredictable than my twenties... even though bills have to be paid, responsibilities have to be fulfilled, dreams have to be realized... I am upto it...

Bring it on... I am ready!

Commitment

I did what everybody dreams of ...I quit on Monday... I really had no big reason to quit... but little small reasons... but all these are irrelevant...

During my chat with my Boss, where he asked me the reason for quitting... and we had a long discussion (oh how painful it was... It was similar to a break up with a boyfriend... I could almost predict his responses and the next questions) and we parted ways amicably... but the one phrase that stayed back with from the entire 2 hour conversation is that... " You are not Committed".... I wasn't expecting this... I was expecting something like "you are too arrogant" or "you are not a good leader", or "you cannot take criticism" or "you are not professional", etc ... but where on earth did this commitment thingy come from....

I seriously didnt get what he meant?? I still don't... never got it when my ex-BF had accused me of the same crime... I actually don't understand the meaning of the word commitment...people use it in sentences, and while judging someone .... but what does it mean???

Webster Dictionary Says ---
commitment
One entry found.
Main Entry:
com·mit·ment
Pronunciation:
\kə-ˈmit-mənt\
Function:
noun
1 a: an act of committing to a charge or trust: as (1): a consignment to a penal or mental institution (2): an act of referring a matter to a legislative committee b: mittimus2 a: an agreement or pledge to do something in the future ; especially : an engagement to assume a financial obligation at a future date b: something pledged c: the state or an instance of being obligated or emotionally impelled

Since, point (2) a: is not applicable to me... I would like to analyse the rest of the points vis a vis my boss's & exBF's statements....

I. EX BF -- "why can't you commit to me??"

ME -- what do you mean?? I like you, I want to be with you ... is that not enough...what the hell do you mean by commitment... do I need to sign on some dotted line??

Analysis - Lets refer to point 1 a: an act of committing to a charge or trust: as (1): a consignment to a penal or mental institution.

Well, committing to my BF as far as I had tried to understand was to be loyal to him physically while I could go and have an orgy with 20 men in my mind...I was free to ogle as long as I did it discreetly, I was free to lust as long as I didnt lunge at the object of lust. It was not ok that I wanted to play it by the ear in the future vis a vis our relationship, coz I didnt know what the future held but was willing to go through it with an open mind, but that was not acceptable to him. What however was acceptable to him was that I promise now and later go back in my words... aka the great Indian politician...

According to the dictionary, we are supposed to act accordingly to the trust bestowed upon us... hmmm, if there is trust then why this whole commitment word... in this shrinking world, doesn't saving even one word or phrase mean anything?? Needless to say I almost paid a visit to a mental institution.

Coming Back to my Boss's statement...

Boss: - You lack committment

Me: - (with my now famous dumb expression, thinking in my head... this commitment business will never leave me) I didnt get it.

Analysis: Did he mean, continuing to see through a change of philosophy at the drop of a hat without any protest. Isnt the word commitment applicable when the same conditions are applicable... for eg - if I had a piece of chocolate that I was asked to preserve and I had to commit my entire life in trying to preserve it and if I couldn't take care of the chocolate even after investing in a refrigerator to keep it at an optimum temperature...bcoz power cuts played havoc, or bcoz there is a shelf life even to the humble chocolate and it became bad because it was meant to me...would that make me not committed....

When asking somebody to be committed, do we ensure that the rest of the physical, emotional, spiritual temperament remains the same??

I think that the word commitment came into use, when wise men started looking for a scapegoat to wash their hands off. Since, things change, situations change and priorities change, even commitments cease, that doesn't lessen anyones integrity. People decompose after death, even the healthy ones, doesnt mean that they did not take care of their health... all good things come to an end and so does commitment.

Ok Fine

Ok fine, I didn’t keep my word and didn’t keep my word on writing on so many events gone by...but what the heck, I will make it up with this one...it has everything...action, romance, mystery, comedy, etc...
So let’s start with work... (It is top of the list in my life anyways)... work has been hectic, deadlines to meet, new people in the team... have to manage them...diverse backgrounds and work experience...it’s been quite a task actually....explaining stuff to people who simply don’t get it and have a closed mind. I don’t understand why people hesitate to take risks...I have done that all my life... in fact last week I went for a hair cut which was not nice and in an effort to damage control I had to rebond my hair (it’s a fancy shumacy name for straightening the hair) and it cost me almost as my monthly house rent....that’s an obscene amount of money to spend on ones look (especially if you are not in the glamour industry and don’t have moneybags as your dad or BF)...but what the hell, the deed is done... no point in crying over it...even though I still have to come to terms with straight hair... I somehow think that I am more of a curly haired person... straight hair is simply not me... its straight and boring...maybe it’s the universe’s way of telling me that “straight is in”...not that I was any other way in my preferences...but i never clarified if anybody thought otherwise ;)
There was a bit of re-bonding with Anu as well... over wine and fondue ... really enjoyed it but was surprised at some of her revelations ...do such things happen?? (Can’t write them here, censored stuff ;))
Then there was the marathon meeting day (I’m jumping back to work...but hey work is 80% of my life) and I quite lost it with one of my associates... I guess they are called associates coz they are ‘asses’... btw I made an ass out of myself after watching the terrorists –hostage situation in Jammu the other day. I kind of imagined that I saw one of my friends there...and I was needlessly worried... he is a competent Major and can handle such situations easily... it’s the media which overhypes situations... but it was his unit which was there... so I guess I was not over imagining things...well gotta go now...loads of work piling up... even as I write this post in between work... (I am not shirking work... I am doing this during my lunch break...since these days I am fasting ...roza’s...so I can technically use my lunch break time for personal work ;))

No Ideas

I have been getting calls and queries on my apparent silence on the blogging scene…well… although a lot has happened in the last few days worth mentioning … I just don’t have the time to jot them down, maybe I am plain lazy…
Some of the things that should have been written down…
1. Failed Lonavla Trip
2. Eye Toy (this is the best game!)
3. Anu’s Bday
4. Me getting the ‘Best Entertainer of the Night’ alongwith Sorabh (how, when??)
5. Independence Day party at US Club (why do I go to such events?)
6. Being neglected by my friends (read Mousumi)
7. Watching 2 movies back to back so that we could sing the National Anthem at the beginning of the movie on independence day (movies were Bachna ye Haseeno and God Tussi Great Ho…why oh why)
Well I promise… as soon as I find time, I will definitely bore you guys with my rants.

Third Wheel

Every time I hang out with my friends for a fun session, I get the inevitable feeling of being a third wheel… this has been happening since the stone ages for me.

Jaya & Anand/Mayank
Amrit & Mitra
Guddi & Soumya
Pinky & Mayur
Mousumi & Siddhu
Anu & Cyril
Neha & Abhinav
Vineet & Pooja/Richa
Charu & Pankaj
Deepika & Vinod
Madhusmita & Navnit
Rachita & Anas
Ashu & Sonia
Ruchika & Gautam
Sam & Nitikaji
Reena & Manish
Runa & Vijay
Sumit & Pooja/Shruti
Utkalika & Siddhu
Ruhi & carlton

The list goes on…although all my friends do make sure that I don’t get bored but I can’t help getting the feeling of being a third wheel.
But is it really bad… I get to be on my own (something which I don’t mind) and at the same time, I have some company… although sometimes it does get a bit embarrassing when they get cozy. But the worst is when they pick a fight and I have to be a judge and choose… on the one hand, there is my friend (whom I have to support) and on the other, the partner who anyways hates me for piling on. However, most often than not my friend is usually on the wrong side and the partner usually correct. In such a scenario, it’s still dicey to pass a verdict in favor of the partner in case partner is a HE… then my girlfriend gets jealous and that opens up a different Pandora’s Box.
Oh my god… such complications… and all I wanted was to spend some quality time with my friends… but sadly they don’t have any time for me.
When I started writing this post, I had thought that being a third wheel is not so bad… and that I am a pro at it… after all my favorite mode of transport has three wheels… the humble rickshaw (mechanized or otherwise)! But after having written so far, I now realize that bikes are better…cozier and faster ;) So when will I get my bike??

Swimming with the Fishes

I want to do that… i.e. swim with the fishes…deep sea ones… without the burden of oxygen cylinders and tight fitting spandex with webbed feet. I want to do it without the trappings of nautical equipments and jargon.

How? Is what you are thinking… I have a solution which is so sublime that it is ridiculous to the average human. I want my body to be flung into the ocean (preferably Indian Ocean… patriotic to the end, eh?) once my heart ceases to beat.

Well, I was thinking about insurance and mediclaim and its benefits…after fighting with my CA (this is an annual July fight… last day of filing taxes is 31st July and my CA never bothers to do anything about it till I remind him… why in the name of God did I ever hire him beats me) and I realized that I have gone and invested my money in insurance and stuff… and put my parents & bro as benefactors automatically… thinking that I will outlive them and get all the money myself (I’m a born optimistic) but what if…I don’t… then apart from the money part there are a few details that needs to be taken care of… none of the policies have made any provisions for it…

Since I am a healthy individual (oh forget the smoking, drinking and non exercising part… I eat right and I am physically active …even though I don’t gym) I won’t just drop dead one fine day (that would please a whole lot of people). Most likely I will be done in through some freak accident (wholly stupid I am sure… I attract silliness for some reason). In such a case, I don’t want to bother my parents (I might recover!) till I am confirmed by a medical authority that I have walked over to the other side.

I don’t want my aging parents to make a long trip and fuss over me…besides its their time to be fussed over… it will be a whole lot of trouble for them. But if I do breathe my last, then I do want them and collect my things (books and some knick knacks collected over the years… mostly scrap but hey they mean a lot to me I guess) so that my landlady is not inconvenienced and my friends do not bumble around what to do. (Note to friends – do not inform my parents till the end… I am expecting you to make the call judiciously, don’t let me down on this, plz).

Then I am sure, that there will be a lot of unnecessary crying (oh how I would hate that) and debates over how to take my body back to my hometown and do the last rituals there.

I don’t want that. I want my body to be dumped into the Indian Ocean (let the environmentalists go to hell) and to be done so before it turns cold. Period. No debates no discussion, no confusion. Consider it my last wish. Maybe I should outsource this job to somebody as I am sure my parents would never agree to it.

Is there any such agency or person who can follow this to a T? Hmmm… I want to swim with the fishes…deep sea ones…

Awww, So Sweet …

Although I am not a huge fan of the Awwww moments in life, I can’t help but be a part of it sometimes… last night was one such ‘Awww’ filled experience. Anu (the love of my life) called me to chill out at her place. Since I am working for a start up these days and the office space is not yet ready, so there are 60 of us crammed in one place. What with all the noise of a newsroom and so many people around, at the end of the day I don’t want to meet any human beings after work.

But then when I was ticking off all the excuses in my book so as to avoid meeting her in a public place, Cyril (the lust of my life) came on line and I was instantly convinced to meet them at ‘Mia Cucina’.

Upon reaching there, I was given a huge bear hug by a bear of a man claiming to be Cyril, while Cyril was grinning from ear to ear at my discomfort. The papa bear turned out to be James another buddy of stud boy’s with beefy muscles and equally beefy vocal chords. I was impressed and so was Sorabh who has a thing going on with every guy that I like.

Anu was all decked up for some reason and looked quite cute and Cyril (ahhh… he looked divine in a brown shirt) and both of them looked so cute together, especially when stud boy addressed his lady love as ‘Sweetu’… that was definitely an Oscar winning ‘Awwww’ moment.

I just could not help noticing how good both my friends looked with each other and the chemistry that they shared, made me a bit jealous, made me wish I was not single, but hey this post is not about me.

The evening was great; it was hilarious, what with James pretending to be an Investment Banker, Cyril trying to be a refined gentleman and Sorabh trying to be funny as usual.

Then for some reason we went to meet a dog called Kaiser and everybody went ‘Awwww’ again…I tried to remain as far as is civilly possible but Kaiser looked at me with those lovelorn eyes and asked me why I haven’t petted him yet. So very reluctantly I petted him and repeated the codeword ‘Awww’ much to everyone’s surprise.

After fighting with each other for god knows what, we dropped beefcake James off and started chasing another car for some reason. Then I realized that the other car had some bags on the top and we were chasing it to tell them about it, good Samaritans that we were in out inebriated state. Then I totally got in the groove and kept on yelling ‘drive faster’ at stud boy who loves his car more than Anu, and after much yelling and confusion we finally caught up with the scared couple who were fleeing us. We did the last ‘Awwww’ deed of the day and headed home.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed the entire evening with the three stooges and the very beautiful Anu and I thank them for filling my life with some very memorable ‘Awww’ moments.

Dumbfounded!

Sages used to practice Maunvrat quite often. I don’t know the scientific reason behind this, but I am quite sure that there is one.

I had an option of practicing the same last week. I had a sore throat and I could not speak. As one of my editors remarked, that she is talking quite a lot despite losing her voice, I could not but help noticing how handicapped I had become at work. There is so much to communicate with colleagues, editors, bosses, office boys, housekeeping in a day that it is mind-boggling to say the least! However, apart from communicating at work, I detest getting into conversations these days.

The dumb state lasted a couple of hours, but I managed to stretch it for couple of days. Imagine not having to talk to anybody…it was nirvana. I have not been smarter than this ever. I hate talking to people nowadays and the worst is to be dragged into polite conversations in the name of being civil and courteous. I am not interested in knowing where Kareena and Saif went for a holiday or the side effects of botox or the pain of having a work at home hubby.

I am a simple soul who wants to do her work and keep communication to the minimum, monosyllables if at all.
I don’t have a need to communicate anything to anybody; I want to be left alone. Period.

I knowingly did not take my medicines hoping for a relapse of the condition without the bad cough… the cough was painful, it kept me up nights…but I didn’t mind the not talking part at all… why I can’t just go to a far off place where there is no other human being for miles… I guess I am in my unsociable best these days… I just want the least possible human contact both emotionally, physically and spiritually.

Mumbai Nightlife

The other night I gave in to my friends demands and went to a nightclub much against my wishes. Not that I don’t enjoy clubbing, but I was very tired that particular day. I had a very hectic work schedule and didn’t want to go through the whole rigmarole of the clubbing culture.

Yes, it is an art (something which I have yet to master), which clubbers follow religiously. There is the right group to go with, the right clothes and accessories, the right look, the right time to reach and the right time to leave, the right drinks to order and the right moves to make. Oh the pressure of partying right!

I used to do all of the above, and I’d say I took a certain pleasure if I managed to get at least one aspect right. But alas, those heady days are gone. Nowadays I don’t find clubbing exciting…am I becoming old? Or is it a case of ‘Been there done that’?

Maybe innovation is the keyword here…if there is something new, exciting than the usual (reach, find a good spot-not too far from the bar not too near the DJ console, balance a drink in one hand, smokes and clutch in the other, air kiss friends and their stooges, shake a leg, try to give a sultry look to the hottie, manage to escape the groping of the sleazy guy, give dirty looks to the DJ when ‘tenu kala chasma’ plays, dodge all the people making a bee-line to the bar or the washroom)… phew wasn’t I supposed to enjoy my drink and the music… what about the ambience for which I have shelled out thousands … cant see it due to the smoke and the crowd. Then when you have managed to fit in the groove, the DJ announces that it is the last song of the night and the club is shutting down. Then, either we go in search of food or another nightclub which is open… the options are really limited at that time. Mostly, we head home to pass out.

Maybe the next ‘In-Thing’ in the clubbing circuit would be no crowd, no smoke, no fancy ambience, no make-up, no loud music, no expensive drinks, no closing time. It’s the time of the house party.

Or maybe, just stop partying…and just concentrate on my work…but how do I unwind… any suggestions??

And She Lived Happily Ever After

The story in this post was actually used in http://www.solitaryreaping.blogspot.com/ by a very dear friend.

I am posting it here as I think that it is my story. Thanks Ragini ;)

The story goes:Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl 'Will you marry me?' The girl said: 'NO!' And the girl lived happily ever after.She went shopping, dancing, camping, drank martinis, always had a clean house, never had to cook, did whatever the hell she wanted, never argued, didn't get fat, traveled more, had many lovers, didn't save money, and had all the hot water to herself. She went to the theatre, never watched sports, never wore friggin' lacy lingerie, had high self esteem, never cried or yelled, felt and looked fabulous in sweat pants and was pleasant all the time.