Naan-o-Sphere!

My Cinderella Story

2012-02-21T10:57:00.000+05:30

Just two weeks back I stepped into my thirty sixth year. Celebrations were low. Over the years I have started enjoying quiet birthdays. If four glasses of Chantilli white is "celebration" with Knopfler, Led Zepp & Floyd on the play list, then surely it was a good one.

Seriously I do not have a plan A or a plan B. Just go with the flow. This is so me. And when life throws lemons at me I rush to get the tequila bottle as fast as I can! Not that I enjoy drowning myself or get wasted but I definitely like to make best use of the lemons that are in question!

And then something interesting happened during the last two days. I would be lying if I say I was not expecting it but yes I was not expecting it to be so fulfilling, beautiful and never thought it would bring so much of contentment and happiness... I am still grinning ...

The chance meeting at last saw the broad day light on a Sunday evening when I decided to meet the Scorpion. And it took quite a while to let the feeling sink in. I had to keep re-assuring myself that this was real!

I bumped upon the Scorpio... hey let me get the facts straight and clear...

Okay... so it was him, the Scorpion who bumped into me thinking me to be someone he knew from his school days. And like a twisted story I was not the one he thought me to be. My name-sake he was in search for is but by the way related to me! Interesting things happen to interesting people. Though the Scorpion got the wrong lady in question, it did not matter much I believe when I look back and recollect our conversations. We instantly got along well and that's how our friendship developed.

All the chit-chats we have had over the years - either exchanging messages or texts or speaking on the phone or via Skype, I realized we are two very different people but there definitely was some mysterious sort of similarities as well which made our friendship so interesting.

And on Sunday we were finally meeting in person for the first time.

He called me to say that I should keep my eyes open looking out for a white Zen as I was waiting for him, and when he finally arrived a few minutes later and asked me to get inside, well honestly I don't recall what was going on in my mind. I mean I could not waste time and allow cars to honk mercilessly.

And then like I said earlier, we still didn't have a plan A or plan B what to do next or where to go!

So we took one of those roads with lesser traffic and started our conversation from where we left last.... I did not feel like I was meeting the Scorpion in person for the first time. I know this sounds too cliched' but still I must say, it felt as if we had met a thousand and one times prior to this rendezvous of ours. So driving along the Express way we talked like excited kids who had so much to tell ... you know clearing a huge back log! We stopped by a small tea stall. Sipped tea inside the car and kept updating each other about our lives with every minute detail possible. And then it was time to get back to reality. He dropped me home and I knew I just had one more chance of meeting him again and I did not want to the let that slip. So I asked him to have dinner with me the next day.

But the day started off on a bad note. I seriously did not wanted to screw up anything. But then there are moments when you don't have much to choose and you have no one to blame. First hiccup came in the form of all shops closed to my utter dismay. So the chicken I thought I'd cook got deleted from the list. Second was the caramel. I may sound as if I am bragging but I know I make good caramel custards. So confident I was that when I set it on the oven, electricity went off and I could feel the uneasiness on my nerves and pulse. I thought I was on my way to disaster.

But nothing went wrong. The caramel turned out the way I wanted it. Rest of the food I cooked was a simple dinner - rice, some dal, tomatoes & potatoes mashed and fried and some egg curry. And yes... there was a salad too but I happily forgot about it...

He arrived on time as he said. We decided to sit by the balcony and spent the entire evening there only... talking, talking & talking more. We laughed, we gossiped too and we discussed the other important issues of life, marriage & kids.

He is married for the last fifteen years (okay... I guessed that. I don't recall how long he has been married) with two grown up daughters. And I have been married for a decade now with a four year old daughter too.

We had an early dinner and after a cigarette each by that same balcony again, he took leave.

And till now I am grinning thinking about our chance meeting.

I have met so many men in my life, have dated when I was seventeen or eighteen years old and if my meeting the Scorpion could be termed as a "date" ... even if its an iota... let me tell you, its has been definitely the best date ever. It relaxed me. Both the evenings were so very beautiful. It was fun and yes it was just the right thing that happened to me... to break my otherwise so very mundane life.

As I woke up today morning, I had a smile on my face... I definitely thought it's going to be a good day today, everything looks bright and beautiful. This is usually not me when I wake up.

I don't know if a Thank You would be enough to let him know how much this means to me. I hope he does, I hope he's seen the woman in me ... the way I am and I would look forward to meet him again if luck be our side.

Here I am - a plain Jane... on the wrong side of thirty and the weighing machine too & there he was - tall, dark and handsome - you know the ones you usually read in Mills & Boon novels... :)

yes, when I told a friend about all this, he said I sounded like a little girl just back from her first date!

But then yes, this have been my bestest date .... so what if it took thirty six years, being married for a decade and with a four year old child in hand....

Good things happen when you expect the least...!

Splutter and Blubber – My Pilgrimage

2011-12-13T19:38:00.002+05:30

Standingamongst fifty thousand people watching the band play was one thing only to beseen and experienced. Words fall short. I can not describe it in one word or asentence.

“Awesome”is the closest I can get and to add spice to the awesome word I can equalizethat with the word “Aphrodisiac”.

“YesI am going to the concert”, is all I told Nirav when we read, “Datesare out! Metallica Indiagig on Oct 28, 30. Theband is slated to perform on October 28 and 30 in Delhiand Bangalore respectively during theirinaugural Indiatour.”

Bangalore wasthe place to be. It was decided.

Thatwas on a hot May day when I said I was all set to head bang. And in these fivemonths I had a lot to do… my daughter’s half yearly exams, a great summervacation and many birthdays to attend. And then there were the unexpectedhiccups… short trips … the unending rains… mugginess in the air … all to betermed simply as this that and etcetera.

Asdays passed, from dry summers to the humid Monsoons there were a few morepeople who said they too were looking forward to attend this concert. And thiswould be the only topic we’d discuss during weekends – binging on grilledchicken and cooling off with Budwisers. So it was six of us who’d finally go together. And it sounded so muchfun!

Andin these five months not only the excitement swelled but some people I trustedwithout a doubt showed that they had a nasty side too. For example there is A.An ardent Metallica enthusiast he took the responsibility to get the ticketsdone. At that point of time we had no clue that the tickets would be availableonline. He happily took the cash and till date I have not seen his face orheard his voice. But that’s one story we will continue later on.

Theday the courier came containing the concert tickets I was thrilled… excitedlike a teenager who just saw her crush pass by across the street. I looked atit for a long time. Read each and every word over and over again and it tookgood amount of time to let that feeling sink in.

Twodays before the concert we reached Bangalore.But instead of six we were four now but that did not matter. As long as we wereready to rock and roll I knew this would be an experience of a lifetime.

But atragic thing happened on the night of 28^th Oct. We were unaware ofit. It was a phone call from Lioness. She asked me to switch on the TV and justbrowse through any of the news channel. My heart roughly missed a beat when Ilearnt that the Metallica gig that was to be held in New Delhi got cancelled. There was a hell lotof mud slinging. Blame games. Angry people ransacking the stage. A nearstampede.

Wewere all silent. We just did not want to talk or discuss anything nasty andnegative. I just whispered a silent prayer to God. All I asked him was aperfect 30^th … a Sunday I’d always cherish. But there were a thousandpeople propagating too may things everywhere; be it in the social networkingsites, TV, elevators, malls. I just shut myself up amidst some good books,family and rum. For I know if nothing else work, rum surely does the trick!

Slowlythe time was drawing nearer. And I was hoping everything would be right.

Thenight before the concert – it was a Saturday and I was to meet up my cousin andthat planned collapsed too … well almost if I may say… we were supposed to meetat some pub over a few drinks and that was all. But he got stuck with his workand the next best thing I said was “let’s postpone our meeting.” Meeting him was also very important to bothof us as we’d see each other after twenty two years. The last time I saw himwas when I was in class six and he had just cleared his twelfth. After that wehave been in touch either through mails, phone calls and texts.

Butthe sweet fella he is, he took directions of the place we were staying and hedrove 25 kms. just to see me. Meeting him after such a long time has beenanother experience again.

Andwe spent the whole night talking and sipping scotch (for a change I shifted myloyalty) by the balcony. We were so engrossed in our conversation that we didnot realize slowly it was dawn! He left at 6.00 a.m in the morning.

Afterhe left I knew I had just an hour of sleep. Nior would be soon awake and Iwould get busy with her. But nothing happened as I planned. Nior woke up andshe never disturbed me (my sweet-heart… I don’t know how come she understandsme so well)… & Nirav was awake too. Infact the entire household was up andinto their own devises and the sun rays falling directly into my eyes would notlet the sleep come. So I too got up and a big mug of tea was all I needed.

Bynoon we decided to move. I made Nior understand that I would be out for somework and that she should behave like a good girl and stay with her aunt, uncleand elder sis and also Shamima (the girl who stays with us)… and she said shewould.

Wemet our friends at a junction and headed for Palace Grounds. There was a slightdrizzle but nobody cared a bit about it. The queue was a rather long one… andthis was just to step inside the Palace Grounds.

Once insidethe grounds there was no queue whatsoever. But there was a heavy rush of peopleat one direction only and we too stood somewhere close to the massive crowd. Thenwe heard the guys standing infornt of us say “Gates have opened”. I cannot tellyou how suffocating it was, to stand in that crowd which was swelling everymoment. You really did not have to walk, you could just move as you were beingpushed. At one point I thought I’d pass out. I looked into Nirav and said, “holdme as tight as you can”. And I asked one of the guys infront of me, “how longwill it take us to reach the gate?” He scratched his head; pressing on to theshoulders of another guy standing infront of him he arched himself up andreplied, “Roughly two meters”. Those two meters seemed an eternal journey. Ittook about forty five minutes to reach that two meter mark. I saw a very small “gate”through which only one person at a time could enter. The whole area was full ofthese huge and frightfully morose looking bouncers. Dare you create any nonsense!We walked for another few meters and there was another ordeal to be passed. Thistime around there were five rows. People were being frisked lest we smugglealcohol, cigarettes, lighters and cameras. And finally…finally I could see the arena.

Ilooked up my watch. It was 5.00 p.m and as I looked up on the stage there wasNikhil (Chinappa) introducing Guillotine a Delhi based band. As they took the stage itprompted a tongue-in-cheek “Delhi Sucks” chorus from the audience, the Delhi chaos and no-showstill fresh in memory.

Oncethey wrapped up a Scottish alt-rock act Biffy Clyro's took the stage for an hour and the crowd stoodexpectantly in the pouring rain.My back was slowly hurting and I sat on theground… I was lucky to be standing near the barracks. I had some clear place tosit… the rains had made the entire place slushy.

Soonthey were off the stage the crowd was getting frenzy. The wait was finallyover. We would see Hetfield & Co. in any minute. But to everyone’s surprisethere was this man on stage giving a sermon on safety. He urged the audience infront to look to their “left”, “right” and “behind” and then take “three stepsbackward”.

Andas obedient school children the crowd adhered to it without fuss.

Atabout 8.00 p.m as the band came finally took charge the whole Palace Ground goteuphoric. Hysteria set it and finally it was happening. I am sure everyonepresent there had the same feeling like the one I had. This was it… it tookthem so long but they finally arrived… the wait, the pain, the rain, hunger andthirst everything was forgotten.

From CreepingDeath to For Whom The Bells Toll people sang in chorus. Nothing matter at thattime. Seemed we were all one. Standing their in unison, head banging andenjoying each and every moment and soaking it all.

TheLED screens behind the two storied stage and on the sides is where you couldsee them giant size and the fire works added sparks to the whole ambience.

Andthen there was the anti-war song One when a fleet of doves flew above in the darknight sky and all I could say was “they were so well trained.”

Asthey belted out one hit after another I could not have thanked God enough formaking this so perfect for me and another few thousands too.

Andas they sang Master of Puppets, Hetfield gave out that evil laugh much to everyone’sdelight and there were so many like me I noticed who clutched their foreheadsin utter disbelief.

Andthen the time came I was waiting for… after a solo by Kirk Hammet for aboutfifteen minutes the music seemed familiar. Oh yeah… It was Nothing ElseMatters. The entire Palace Ground with fifty thousands metal heads singing thatsong was amazing. People came from every corner of the country and other partsof the world too. There were people of all ages… there were people in crutches,bandaged arms and heads too. But all were there… to see the Gods of Metal performlive. The finale was Enter Sandman… as he Hetfield chanted “And now I lay downto sleep… “ I just told myself, “this is insane… I can take no more”….

I hasbeen truly all the long travel… the back ache and all the wait …. I neverthought I could see these guys ever … but Jasoon Newstead you were sorelymissed…Lars seemed to have gone mellow… age suits him and what can I say aboutHetfield… he is just too much!

As wedecided to walk back to the nearest taxi stand I still could not believe what Ihad just seen… I knew it would take a hell lot of time to let that feeling sinkagain… like it happened to me when opened the courier and saw the concerttickets.

As wewere heading home I knew this was definitely a pilgrimage and also realizedthat I had not slept for the past twenty four hours.

So much for Mr. James Hetfield & Co.

And all that splutter and blubber...

2011-12-08T09:57:00.001+05:30

Without a doubt this is the way things happen when I try playing with words. Its been a long long time and a lot many things happened in the last few months...
And all these definitely would come out as "splutter and blubber" and I am excited as a kid like in a toy shop... from where to begin...

2011 has been a good year. So far so good... as the count down for the new year begins I can write this with confidence... and a smile steadily forming on my lips and eyes glittering with all the stories I have to tell...

I don't know who will read all this. Or will these ever be read.

I don't write to please anyone's whims and fancies. I write for myself. I write because it relaxes me. Writing to me is like speaking to a friend who would never judge me or be biased. But rather would be a good listener... nodding his head in agreement, squint his eyes at times, raise his eye-brows when he listens to all the mischief, would pat me on my shoulders and lend his arm to hold on to when I need the most.

So now that Nior's school is over and so are my duties I guess I will have enough time to write.

My bench mark - One story a day.

But then I have a case of forgetfulness...

This is a reminder note of all the things I should put down in plain simple words:

Milestones - Nior
Summer at Havelock
Notes on my ex factor
Transition from Old Monk to Khodays
My pilgrimage
My first crush (someone asked me about this yesterday and I really smiled a lot while I narrated this incident... so let us get this straight into the naanosphere page... I mean why not!)
Bonding & re-unions...
Late nights
Misunderstanding and ironing out the creases

& maybe something called Where there is a will....

INKED!

2011-03-26T21:33:00.001+05:30

Good tattoos aren't cheap and cheap tattoos aren't good.... Author Unknown!

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=162647023788522&comments

Conversations & Confessions.... Jab we sat … (& talked)

2011-03-21T21:57:00.000+05:30

I broke a promise.

It’s as simple as that.

I broke not only a promise but also broke someone’s trust and heart all at once.

Bad bad me…

I don’t know from where to begin… its one long story. And this is one story I would not like to muddle and mess or edit my lines. If you get an eye sore by the time you reach the last line, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you!

I knew I did something which would not be easily forgiven. But I had a plan. I wanted to make a confession and come out clean and assure that this would never happen again in the future.

But my plans did not see the light of the day. It died prematurely.

“Why are you in touch with that bastard again?” he asked me.

I didn’t have to ask who was being referred to. I knew this was coming. But never for once did I foresee the hatred which still remained undamaged. I thought with time opinions had altered. But no! I was so damn wrong.

He waited patiently for an answer looking into my eyes fixedly. Those few seconds seemed infinite while I managed to gather my voice and grit to answer that one simple question.

As I nodded my head in affirmation, I felt the soft, pendulous lower part of my external ear getting warmer and it had changed its hue to a shade of crimson (if only I could have seen my reflection). At the same time I also felt my eyes tearing unstoppably.

Man... I love to hate you

2011-03-18T20:56:00.001+05:30

Ajmal – I love to hate that man for reasons I really don’t know. A tall and dark fellow whose shrewdness oozes out from his gaze and smile; his side-burns and moustache with his jet black well oiled locks matches his personality as much as his olive like eyes which forever looks red and swollen.

The way I have described him might sound eerie and maddening. But he is exactly this; wait till you see him one fine; day if luck is by your side and you will thank me for telling you this well in advance!

And if his looks were not enough to characterize his persona, you will go bonkers when he opens his mouth. He possesses perhaps the ugliest set of teeth, stained almost in a shade of something seemingly yellowish and grayish layer of plaque with crimson lining on the edges for his mouth is eternally busy chewing tobacco. I wonder if he has ever brushed his teeth!

I’ve been seeing this man in our locality for a long time now. Not only does he despise me but even the hounds (the self-proclaimed kingpins) that wander about in the lanes are not too fond of him either. The very sight of him and they bark unstoppably.

I don’t remember the first conversation we had but I very well remember the last one we had a few days ago.

For the past few months Ajmal and I were not in talking terms. If his looks were not good enough reasons for me to hate him, he had the guts to actually siphon money from me in broad daylight! That was it. I asked him to “leave” immediately and never to step in our compound ever again. He tried his best to plead, persuade and assure me that it was “just a mistake” but I had no energy left to buy all the things he said in a bid to defend himself.

I hate stacking things. I firmly believe that if I don’t use a thing for a year; be it clothes or other stuff, I am sure I shall not be using this again in the near future. And hence I dispose off clutter. Old clothes, shoes, curtains etc mostly sees their way to Clothes Bank a local N.G.O but what do I do with old newspapers, beer bottles, cans etc?

That was precisely the moment when Ajmal stepped into my life as a big rescue.

Ajmal is a measly scrap and junk collector. Thus he made my life a whole lot easier and clutter free. I am a kind of someone who doesn’t remember faces too well, maybe it’s the Aquarius in me – the “out of sight out of mind” syndrome. But his face is one thing I could never miss for sure, even if that meant seeing him while going to the nearby market to buy vegetables. Years passed on and he knew his timings well. He would come gather all the junk and there have been times when I’d offer him tea and snacks. In a bid to return that favour he’d also tidy up the compound sometimes, brush off dried leaves from the lawn and also mow the lawn if he had time. And I was happy with this arrangement no matter how disgusting he looked.

But with time passing his behavior seemed had changed. He was no longer dedicated towards his work. He was disinterested in his chores. He would still say “yes” when I’d ask him if he’d like to have a cup of tea but he no longer would mow the lawn or brush up the dried leaves. I had no time to ponder into these trivial issues then. I was too busy mending my own life.

And one fine day Nirav casually tapped me on my shoulders and said, “Do you realize that this man is deceiving you?” He further said, “Have you ever crossed checked whether he weighs the newspapers correctly?”

All I had as an answer was a simple, “No”.

The next best thing Nirav did was to ask Ajmal weigh the entire heap of newspapers yet one more time. I wasn’t too happy about it, especially on a hot and humid afternoon. Ajmal could see the wrath in Nirav’s eyes for sure and he heeded with much fuss. Nirav made sure his scales were accurate and on the second count I realized that I was actually being duped by about five kilos of newspaper! And I wondered in the last nine years how many kilos of junk he had deceived me.

And that was it. I asked him to “leave” and keep the entire bundle of papers and other junk where it was and never to show his face or dare talk to me again.

For the last couple of months I’ve been throwing away all the junk in the garbage bin. But the pile of newspapers was getting larger and larger. I didn’t know what to do. There were other scarp collectors too, passing by our home and many a times I’ve had this desperate urge to call one of them and clear the mess. But then I thought of Ajmal and said to myself, “they are all the same”, and I let the heap get larger.

Day before yesterday, I was in the balcony watering my plants and Nirav was in the porch washing car. And from the corner of my eye I could sense someone was near the gate. As I looked down I saw Ajmal. As I looked into him, he sheepishly smiled at me. I did not respond. I looked away and kept watering my plants. I looked towards the gate again and saw him still standing there hoping I’d let him in. I came inside, got busy with preparing breakfast and about fifteen minutes later as I went to the balcony to call Nirav for breakfast I saw Ajmal still waiting. Nirav by then had finished his washing and was coming upstairs. As he stepped in I asked him, “Should I ask him to come and take away the newspapers?”

Nirav nodded his head and reminded me of what had happened about eight months ago.

I assured him, “I’ll be careful this time around”. And as walked towards the balcony to call Ajmal i could see a sheer excitement in this face, that shrewdness oozing out from his gaze and smile yet one more time…

As he weighed the newspapers he asked me if “dada” was around just in case he wanted to “check the scales” …

Maybe Ajmal again duped me. I am not sure. He assured me he did not. And I trust him. Not because he means much but because he helps me in tidying up my home.

Being me…

2011-03-09T10:51:00.000+05:30

Two decades back the only “days” that called for celebration were birthdays and anniversaries in the home turf and in school there were Teacher’s day, Children’s Day. Parent’s Day & something known as “Gratitude day”. Till now I have no clue about why we celebrated Gratitude day.

Because we went to a Convent School Christmas celebrations were always way ahead of the actual date, mostly on the last day of our Annual Exams which was around the first week of December.

In those days we had few greeting cards to choose… and with a limited pocket money we could not possibly splurge on buying a dozen cards for friends. I remember my mom getting really creative with me and it was always the hand made cards that I sent my friends for either birthdays or wishing them Happy Holidays as the school closed for vacation.

That one small thing remained with me for a long time. However it does not mean that I’ve made personalized cards for each and every soul with whom I have shared great rapport. Because by the time I landed in college Archies & Hallmark gave me a sheer complex with their bundle of greeting cards and that too for every occasion!

The last card I made was ten years ago, when I was in head over heels in love with someone and it was the only moment in my life when something in me said “ he is the one I should get married and settle down… so what if he doesn’t owns a pink Cadillac… did not possess a fat bank balance….” And a decade later I still don’t regret this decision.

So I made this card for the man who’s been with me for a decade now like a shadow, who knows me in and out and most of the times does things for me which I have in my mind only….

The card was one long chain of memos in square shapes tied with ribbons and in each memo I jotted down the reason why I loved him. There were hundred memos!

Prior or post marriage I don’t recall celebrating St. Valentine’s Day. Not because we as a couple are unromantic but then why single out a day to profess and show your love when you could possibly do with small gestures and big surprises everyday round the clock.

Yesterday a friend wished me Happy Woman’s Day. I thanked him for his wishes and for also reminding me about it.

Perhaps the best way I’ve celebrated Woman’s Day was during the period I was working. Being a product trainer for FMCGs especially cosmetics and toiletries, once we (me & my two colleagues) got a pleasant surprise when our H.R National Head said that we were free to choose any lip and nail colours we wanted on Woman’s Day. And our plight was like that of a mouse in front of a trap who didn’t know whether to choose the cheese or the bread! Better comparison would be an Assamese adage – “odhik masot bogoli kona” which translated would mean too many fish can make a crane go absolutely blind!

Another incident that flashed across my mind yesterday was a text message B sent me on Woman’s Day. Mornings are always a mad rush, when I was on job and even now as a stay at homebody.

I was rushing to go to work when my cell phoned beeped. I checked the message and it was one short and sweet message from B. It said, “Nappy Woman’s Day”!

I didn’t have to ask him what Nappy meant because I knew Nandini + Happy makes Nappy.

Its been a long time since that message but still I am fond about it….

Being me is perhaps Nappy!

Yeah!!!

Got the Grip

2011-03-01T22:28:00.000+05:30

Someone casually asked me “why are you obsessed about him?”

OBSESSED is too big a word. I never thought I have been obsessed with anything or anyone. And when I was making myself clear about this whole obsessed issue I was further told and made aware that I was “still stuck” with that!

I am an Aquarian, and that too a strong one. I believe in my instincts and major decisions of my life have been taken from the heart rather than my head. And I seriously have no qualms about it.

For me love has been always unconditional and unrestricted. That’s one of the foremost reasons why I have been the lousiest lover and a girlfriend for all my ex-boyfriends!

The two ex-boyfriends I have had would nod in agreement about this even if you were to ask them today. Because I’ve been a friend to all and worse I’ve always hanged out with boys and men more than women the poor souls were left clueless and insecure. They always doubted me and where they stood in my priority list!

Uncanny as I am for majority of people – friends and acquaintances, I know I have mostly scandalized people for all the wrong reasons. Its not that I am lazy but I don’t feel I really need to make people understand the “me” in me. A simple logic overrides this judgment of mine. If you know me than why gape… or why ogle at me with a strange expression… or why imagine me to be from a different solar system altogether?

And yes! I am still “stuck” in that one word “obsessed”. Not because I am but because I am not.

Heartbreak warfare…

2010-12-28T01:39:00.000+05:30

Every time I hear this particular word certain events burst across my eyes like a blitzkrieg. I thought there were just two major instances in my life when I cried my heart out and I had no one who’d listen to me without laughing. I guess even now I feel that way or else I wouldn’t be writing these lines in the very first place.

Okay… now being “almost” on the wrong side of thirty when I recall my past days I always thought there were just two major incidents and baby… I was wrong … the third stuck like an arrow when I thought nothing could move me…and to comfort my ego I tell myself off and on that there’s still a child in me which is alive and kicking!

And now I wonder before telling these three tales should I really name them or keep them the way I address them still? The later now seems to suit my sensibilities and here they are:

Tragedy one:

This happened around twenty years ago. Like any teenager even I had butterflies in my stomach every time I saw him! And I really don’t know for what reasons why I was so attracted to him. He was just an ordinary guy head banging to all the heavy metal stuff I could think of and every meeting and his head banging would make me rush to get the dispirins. But I liked it that way. He belonged to the tall, dark & “not so” handsome types and still I was happy. Things however changed when I told this to my closest friend. Women can never keep secrets… I nod in agreement to it hundred and one percent! I don’t know whether I should appreciate her hard work or hate her guts but the day she went and told him about me, from that instance our relationship s soured. And I was miffed. Suddenly I could feel the distance. I wanted to set things straight but as clumsy as I am luck abandoned me too. To add to my miseries my tall, dark & not so handsome fella, out of the blue met a cousin of mine and all hell broke lose. They set the stage on fire! And he asked my help! Can anybody beat that? I wish I had the nerve to tell him “Slap me damnit!” But in reality I did something more silly & stupid. I cried my heart out. And no… mind you, not in front of him. I felt so lonely. I cried & wept & cried & wept more all alone. I spent many sleepless nights. I’ve felt my heart ache and heaviness that pained me to bits. Though I was amidst a crowd yet I’d be the only lonely one and it took a long time for me to heal my wounds. And I don’t know where he got lost amidst that crowd.

Tragedy two:

I was just out of school and all ready to attend college. You know how it is to be in a Convent school for twelve odd years. The very thought of going to a co-ed college was superb! And I just waited for that day. But something else happened before that. Between the time after school and joining college I befriended my neighbour. He was my batch, but studied in an all boy’s school. We soon realized that we shared a lot of common friends and interests as well. One thing led to the other and soon we were the unofficial couple in our gang of friends. There was nothing between the two of us yet some amount of attraction was there for sure. Soon college started and though we were in different colleges yet we would make it a point to hang out together. One afternoon when I returned home I saw a chit on my study table. As I unfolded it, it wasn’t too neat actually to be termed as a “love letter”. As I opened the chit I realized it was from him and he scribbled a few lines defining his love for me! And boy! I thanked my lucky stars. All my friends had boyfriends and it would get utterly boring when they went out on dates. I was left alone. So now that I had him as a boyfriend I thought I was in the league of my friends too. A few days later when I visited him I was feeling quite giddy inside. I have been such a tomboy all my life that to behave like a teeny-weeny love struck girl was quite a task. As I walked into his room I saw a lot of friends and he didn’t even pay that “special” and “extra” attention to me. Rather I could sense that he was more than eager to prove his manliness to a skimpily clad girl. I knew something was wrong. So the one chance I think God granted me I called him aside and asked him “what was wrong?” His jaw dropped almost touching the floor. He didn’t have a clue why I was behaving like a nagging wife. So I called him to my place the next day and showed him the chit. As he read that I thought he would bury himself deep underground. He said it was not him who wrote those lovey-dovey lines. And I was equally shocked as him. We had a big argument and he left, leaving me in absolute tears. I felt my heart breaking yet one more time. That pain… that loneliness again crept in me and I buried myself in my shell. The next morning as I walked into my classroom I knew everyone was giving me strange looks… I had huge puffy and swollen eyes. I had cried the whole night. A few days later I solved this puzzle. A cousin of mine who weighed a ton and thousand, smelled like a pig and cribbed always played this crude and dirty game on me and I gave her my piece of mind. But by then my friend had already left hometown and got admitted to a different university and we lost touch.

Tragedy three:

I met this friend of mine in flesh and blood after a long long time. But the situation in which we met was different. We connect. We communicate even when no words are spoken. And just to see him I was happy. It was a very emotional moment for me. There has been no “attraction”, “crush”, “infatuation” between us, but I think what binds us together is the sheer madness. Our meeting was just for minutes and when he said he’d call me the next day I let go that sentence. I never thought he would actually.

And the next afternoon while having lunch as my phone buzzed I could not believe my eye when I saw his name flashing on the screen and the phone buzzing. Speaking to him has been a pleasure always. We decided to meet the next day. And as he asked I called him to check whether he’d be able to make it. He said he’ll let me know and the whole evening I kept waiting for this one call. And it never came. And again I was hurt, deep down somewhere. I was in a situation where I could not show it openly that I was hurt. I was weeping deep within and the heaviness I felt was as same as I felt when my first ever crush didn’t notice me and wanted me to help him getting fixed with my cousin!

Heartbreak warfare! Sure it was…and at this stage?????

The three men don’t have a clue to all this anyways. But now after all these years I feel so tempted to speak my heart out!

Would that do good? I don’t know nor do I care. Butthey have made me cry big time and they should better be aware of it….

Lost & Found

2010-11-24T20:15:00.000+05:30

I don’t know when or how but slowly and slowly I have learnt to “let go”. I wasn’t sure if letting go would be as easy as it seemed when I read in number of books. And I waited to apply it practically… but things like “let go”, “live and let live” doesn’t happen in a particular day or a time… it happens gradually and its only when you have time for yourself to look back into the days gone by that you realize it. And it never did seem tough at all. I said to myself, “… its time… its age… its maturity… letting go things is easy… not that dangerous…” Dangerous would be an overstatement… but a little pep-talk to oneself do no harm? Does it?

An incident however did override my much “let go” philosophy … momentarily … if not for eternity.

It dates back to the year 2006. My job meant I had to travel extensively. And the two constant companions I had with me always were – 1) my portable music player & 2) my hip flask. Being assaulted by jaundice once I vowed to carry water from home only.

I am not at all a morning person. And as much as I loved my job I hated to wake up early to catch a flight or rush to the cab waiting outside my home in the morning with the same integrity.

It was the month of June and even at five in the morning it looked as if half the day had already passed. I was on my way to Tezpur for a training session. I reached the bus stop and waited for about thirty minutes. It was such a mad rush waking up and getting all my bearings in places that there was no time for a cup of tea. As I enquired I was told the bus would be late. So I walked down to a nearby tea stall and had a cup of tea. It rejuvenated me instantly. By the time I was done with my tea, the bus reached and I hopped on it and soon was on my way to work. I put my earphones, pressed the “play” button on my mp3 player and soon I went off to sleep. After covering a distance roughly 180 kms and two and half hours later we reached Nogaon. The busses usually halted here for about 20 minutes. I was still not fully awake but I knew this route, the stoppages and my bag so well that i really didn’t have to open my eyes to put my hands inside my bag and take out the hip flask. But alas! There was something wrong this time. I couldn’t find it. By now I was fully awoke and I looked inside my bag yet I couldn’t find it… I took out all the things, yet the flask was nowhere in sight. I felt lost. I felt alone. I knew it was just a flask, but this same flask had been a great companion to me and now when it went missing I was almost devastated. I couldn’t recall where I left it. And I had to “let go”. Wasn’t that easy? No… not really… because I was so attached to it. But then I thought maybe it had served its purpose and it was time to let go the flask.

Days passed by and like a love story gone sour and eventually tasteless; memories of the hip flask too faded away.

Almost a year later, I was in the same bus stand, but this time I wasn’t going anywhere. I was there to receive somebody and it was late in the evening. The waiting game is surely a tough one especially when you have mosquitoes swarming all over you and you are surrounded with strange faces mostly gazing blankly into their cell phones.

I am a big time caffeine addict if you permit me to say. So I walked down to the same tea stall and ordered a cup of coffee. I sipped my coffee as slowly as I could because once this activity would be over I didn’t have anything interesting to do except wait for someone’s arrival. As I finished the last drop of coffee and settled the bill, the guy over the counter looked into me for a while and then asked, “Madam, I remember you. You have come to my tea stall earlier also.” I felt so important that moment! At least somebody so unknown too recognized me! I said I did. As he was handing me the change he asked me to wait for a while. “Is this yours?”, he continued saying as he took out a hip flask that looked like my long lost and almost forgotten buddy. I couldn’t believe my eyes… and I didn’t have to examine it like a pathologist in a lab. I recognized it as much I’d recognize my new born baby amidst hundreds of new-borns in a nursery. I said, “Yes, this is mine!”

The shopkeeper took out a cloth and wiped it proper and handed over to me. He told me, “I wanted to call you back to hand you the flask but you already had boarded the bus. I kept waiting and thought one day you’d come and looking for it. But it’s been a year or so now. But still I thought I’ll keep this and hand it over to its rightful owner no matter how long I’d have to wait. But today when I saw you walking down towards my shop, I wasn’t sure whether it was you. You look different. But then something in me said this must be you…”

I could not thank him enough. He just made my day. It was like finding back one’s lost love. The happiness and joy at that moment was far more than what would I have felt if I were gifted diamonds.

As I thanked him I bowed my head down slightly, a small gesture to let him know how much this meant to me.

As I write down this I must tell you, I haven’t been to that tea stall again. There hasn’t been a reason. But yes, I’ll still recognize the nice guy who kept my flask with such care for so long.

And if you are wondering what happened to the flask… well… something more interesting will follow soon…

The Old Monk Chronicles! part II

2010-11-17T16:53:00.004+05:30

SHE: Hey!

…. After 3 hours or so….

THE OLD MONK: Hey! Just woke up!

SHE: Half my day is over! Woke up at 5.30 and went for a walk too. Felt good.

THE OLD MONK: 5.30 is too early man! I think I too should do some physical.

SHE: You should. It’s the first day which is tough. Once you are off that stage its fun

THE OLD MONK: Yeah you are right.

SHE: What else?

THE OLD MONK: You tell me, my day had just started!

SHE: Nothing really! Maybe a :)) will do?

THE OLD MONK: :)) man!

SHE: No! I am a woman!

THE OLD MONK: Woman! Yes that’s what you are.

SHE: But I love the way you say “man”!

THE OLD MONK: Thanks! That’s my signature style.

SHE: No work?

THE OLD MONK: Will be here for another 15 mins…

SHE: Me too have to go out for some work. Won’t be here for too long.

THE OLD MONK: So tell me?

SHE: Tell you what?

THE OLD MONK: Whatever you wanted to tell me last night.

SHE: There are a lot of things.

THE OLD MONK: Tell me one by one!

SHE: 1.I don’t know what is happening

THE OLD MONK: I don’t what either

SHE: …

THE OLD MONK: …

THE OLD MONK: What is the next one?

SHE: Nothing… later…

THE OLD MONK: 3 more mins, please?

SHE: What will happen in 3 more mins?

THE OLD MONK: At least you’ll be with me…

The Old Monk Chronicles - part I

2010-11-15T11:56:00.000+05:30

What happens when an old monk talks? Sounds queer?

hey!

SHE: Y'day I logged out of the chat in a hurry my baby was crying in her sleep ... when I went to her I realized she had blocked nose and was finding difficult to breathe.... hope u understand... u do right?

THE OLD MONK: Come I am ok with it... your child is the first priority.. But I would have loved if the conversation continued …

SHE: we'll continue the story again... with u I almost forgot that I’m a mom & a wife!!!
Felt nice being "me" for a change!

THE OLD MONK: I liked the you in you.. I am kinda waiting for the next talk..

SHE : me in me is very mischievous!

THE OLD MONK: Hmm, I like mysteries... specially between you and me..

SHE : mysteries... especially between you and me...
lets keep it that way... I love this! u giving me butterflies in my stomach now :>>

THE OLD MONK: i am game sweets.. you have no idea how excited I am, Great feelings cannot be explained . There is one more thing that want to tell you

SHE: ... tell me what it is...

THE OLD MONK: the other day when you were here.. I kinda could feel there is some chemistry between you and me

SHE: really? How did I miss it? I did like u coz u seemed so quiet, a bit shy & not really loud...

THE OLD MONK: i am not shy... but I am not loud... did you get my text.. ?

SHE: no not shy I know... I like it... guys who brag & talk a lot... and boasts are such turn offs!

The road less travelled

2010-09-20T14:17:00.002+05:30

Part –I - Holiday begins

We as a state celebrate our day of independence shutting ourselves at home. A whole generation has been conditioned this way. But this time I knew things would be different. I was so looking forward to breathe some fresh mountain air, get away from dust and grime and do away with the mugginess that swallows us every summer, especially post monsoons.

As planned we decided to start as early as possible. We knew we had to cover a long stretch of the National Highway which we mostly cross by other means of transport other than a car.

So on Friday the thirteenth exactly at 8.00 a.m we left home. A few stopovers and an hour later we reached the outer edges of the city. The route we initially decided during our rounds of “idea-ting while guzzling down gallons of beer” to Siliguri from Guwahati was via Goalpara – crossing the Naranarayan Setu – Bongaigaon – Srirampur and finally enter North Bengal.

But like they say “Man proposes & God disposes”; a major chunk of the route we wanted to traverse was reeling under the influence of “Assam Bandh”. A few phone calls here & there made us change our route. We would still be traveling via Goalpara, crossing the Naranarayan Setu and then take a different path through the sleepy town of Jogihopa, by pass Dhubri, tread through Boxirhat and then enter North Bengal.

The drive till Paikan (the junction from where you can go to Tura from one side of the highway & the other was the one we were traversing) was an amazing one. The highway was more was like a runway with dense teak plantations on both sides. Greenery makes everyone poetic, well maybe. The two men I was traveling with never sounded so poetically correct until now!

Somewhere around Dhubri we halted at a roadside shack for a quick lunch. The place look deserted. As we parked the car and got down around five men came to greet us. We looked at each other and thought maybe we took a wrong decision in opting to have lunch here. The place looked abandoned and maybe it was so devoid of customers that the entire army which consisted of the chef, the helper, the “manager” (most probably) and two more aides came out to give us a warm reception!

Post lunch as we nearing Boxirhat the roads started deteriorating. We thought a little stretch of the broken highway was okay… but I was wrong. Traveling on that rough patch for some uncountable kilometers had an anti gravitational effect on my system and as we halted for a tea break all I could do was throw up! Upon asking a truck driver how long would be this stretch of road he casually said “120 kms”!

As we accelerated again I put my eye pads on and tried chanting Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, lest I throw up again!
By sundown we assumed we had covered at least half of the 120 kms “bad patch highway” and Nirav on the driver’s seat finally had reasons to release smile. We’d soon be on a better road where instead on traveling on the 2nd gear we’d be zooming on overdrive. But somehow the road did not look like a National Highway. There were no signs of any mile stones, no trucks or busses or lorries plying. We three guessed it but no one dared to speak it out loud & clear that we somehow took a wrong turn. So every crossing we reached we’d slow down and ask a passer by how long it would take us to reach Siliguri. And we got a bevy of replies. Sometimes it was “2 hours”; sometimes “20 kms” and sometimes a vague and blank stare as if the person was either possessed by an unseen spirit or maybe it was the effect of weed, smoked beyond the permissible limits!
We realized our folly when after about driving for 150 -200 odd kms we reached a crossing and saw some signs of civilization and a milestone too where it was written “Siliguri 120 kms”! Still??????
By the time we checked in at the hotel it was 10.00 p.m. A good shower and the most unappetizing food later we all crashed into a deep slumber.

A long silence

2010-09-20T13:12:00.002+05:30

Its indeed been quite a while that I haven't blogged...

To Be or Not To Be

2010-03-25T22:11:00.000+05:30

I grew up in an era when choices one had as a career option was limited. You were either a well qualified Doctor or an Engineer. That was it! Yes, there were a few other options too – a teacher or maybe join the administrative services.
And to cut a long story short none of these options interested me which seemed were hanging down like a pendulum ticking severely more than ever as I gradually ascended from primary to middle & finally high school.
My parents unlike rest of them (to be read as my overtly pushy aunts & uncles) never did pressurize me to death. I don’t know the reason behind this. But I remember Maa telling me off & on that as long as I turn out to be a sensible, mature and a loving person “all is well”. She herself being a teacher (for which I was a tad angry on numerous occasion, because I felt I was surrounded with this species called “Miss” both in school and home as well); she never allowed me to parrot read or like in school we were asked to “learn by heart”. Except for the poetry, rest she explained everything to me like a story. Even the ocean currents – a lesson in Geography I used to dread; she made it so easy for me that it seemed I too flowed with the mighty currents, at times warm and at times utterly cold clock-wise and anti-clock-wise in both the hemispheres.
And because as a kid I’d always see her being a “Miss” I decided I too shall become a fine teacher one day. So on holidays I’d make all my dolls sit in the classroom (read the lounge area we had just next to the kitchen), make best use of the wall as my black board and there I was – the teacher. This fascination lasted me for quite some time until I stumbled upon a lady (I don’t remember her name); she was not a regular visitor to our place, but I recognized the other woman with whom she came. She was my granny’s friend. This “first time I met” lady had a bag full of candies and two big bottles of aerated drinks – one cola and one orange for me and boy I was bemused and thrilled all at once! I realized that she was an “air hostess”. And the next thing I wanted to be was an air hostess! My teacher-giri bit ended prematurely! Maa would smile whenever she saw me playing “Air Hostess” but granny would get slightly alarmed. She would keep reminding me that only people who couldn’t excel in studies would opt for doing things like these! I would get scared as a ten year old. I didn’t understand why she said so. But her statement would ring like an alarm every time I’d sit with her to revise my Assamese lessons on the dining table while she’d be either cooking the regular meal or baking one thing or the other.
So there went my air hostess bit too. I was sad but could I do anything? Nothing came up and I thought like the rest of my cousins I too shall end up being a Doctor or an Engineer. But the path to these two profession required Science and Math which were my least favourite. Thus I felt being trapped. I was throttled and I could do nothing about it.
As a teenager I wanted to become a musician. Dad taking a cue called a music teacher too. But No! Hindustani Classical music was not something I was zeroing onto. I wanted to be a Jon Bon Jovi! Couldn’t he possibly understand that? One day gathering all the courage I did manage to speak him about this utter confusing state of affairs. He listened patiently and said, “Even Jon Bon Jovi did learn his basics the way you are doing now”. Now who could give me first hand info if my idol too had a sicko & disgusting music teacher like the one I had! Nevertheless my musical journey continued for about three long and appalling years. One day I finally said I had enough of music and bid adieu to my music teacher. Dad was angry and I took all what he had to say with a pinch of salt.
By the time I had cleared my tenth board exams most of my cousins were busy preparing for various entrance/competitive exams. I visualized them as docs & engineers building bridges and somewhere deep inside me I still wasn’t prepared for all this.
So the next best thing I did was take up Commerce stream and decided to wait and watch. During those five glorious years of bunking & partying one thing that I got interested was the world of advertising. As a management student advertising & marketing was one of the key papers and I loved it. So this is my call. I thought to myself.
But wait, during the same time cable TV first hit the Indian television and I was bestowed my Danny McGill’s charms & charisma and I felt I was deviating from my advertising world. I wanted to become a VJ!
Before I graduated with a B.Com degree I had lost my parents and for my granny it was all to “Greek” when I told her that I had cleared my MAT (Management Aptitude Tests) side by side with my B.Com and would like to do a course in advertising. She said she had no idea what I was saying. I continued further by saying I need to go to New Delhi to clear a few GDs (group discussions) and interviews in a few institutes.
A few interviews and G.Ds later I knew I’d be in DSC (Delhi School of Coomunication) for the next two years studying advertising. I was just a matter of few months away. And as planned I found myself in the New Delhi railway station one hot June afternoon.

I was so sure I’d be working in an ad. agency in the creative department that it seemed too good to be true.

Yes! I did! I did manage to work for an agency but it was nothing the way I had imagined. Instead of doing some fun filled copy writing, here I was typing tender notices in Adobe PageMaker! I waited. I said to myself, “the best is yet to come”. But it didn’t happen or maybe I was impatient or maybe I was lured to a fatter pay packet and thus I bid adieu to my whatever-little-I-got-to-do advertising world.

I started working as a product trainer for one of the world’s most reputed and oldest brand. And shamelessly I never did miss my advertising days, not even once. I traveled extensively; met a whole lot of people and got to see places which otherwise I’d never write in my “must visit” travel itinerary.

Now I am a very much “stay at home” wife & mom. As I look back I don’t repent nor do I have regrets. I got a chance to dabble about brand building and doing my teacher-giri bit again as a trainer. Plus my job meant I was on a vacation forever!

But only if we had alternative career options during the growing up years. I guess kids today are much more luckier to have such a wide range of opportunities.

When I look at my doc & engineer cousins I feel they live such a rigid life. Doc are forever studying even now… & the engineers… well they too are doing fine (I just guess as I am not in touch with them)…

And for me I know I’ve done my parents proud. I as a parent would be the way my parents have been to be. Would love to see Nior as a mature, well groomed, compassionate and a good human being more than anything.

My Side

2010-03-10T11:59:00.000+05:30

My dear Bhai,

It has been one long day and I am tired as a dog. There are things I should tell you now. Maybe I'll feel better and maybe you'll lose some sleep. I simply need to vent out my feelings, have bottled up myself for too long. Honesty is the best policy, remember our Moral Science classes? Oh My Gosh! I still exclaim now at the very thought of the subject. I cannot vouch for you but I personally felt it was an overdose of the omnipresent, the conscience and the truth. Today as I sit down to write to you, I pray and hope I'll be honest enough. Being honest is not a child's play; even if it means being honest to oneself. O.K. let me give myself the benefit of doubt and rephrase honesty - let me confess!

Sapna delivered a cute little baby girl today afternoon. I was at the nursing home with Sanjeev all throughout. It was amazing to watch Sanjeev. His expressions changed with every second passing by. A would be father that he was, he was an assortment of every possible emotions -excitement, fear, worry, edginess, anxiety, impatience and hope.

"Its worse than waiting for the Board Results!", he said to me.

Board results. It automatically connected me with you Bhai. Suddenly I realized that you are the only one with whom Iâ€™ve remained bonded since school. It was after Boards, we decided to part ways “ to find greener pastures. Do you recall those hostel days, when we shared every possible thing under the sun? The pickles, biscuits and cakes which came from home, notes and text books, tee shirts and jackets and at High School we shared cigarettes also! I even remember sharing your toothbrush once! I know it gives the jitters now but I guess that's precisely why we have been Bhaito each other than best friends.

When the nurse came out of the O.T. to break the news of the newborn, the happiness, the satisfaction and the pride was far much greater than what Sanjeev might have felt when his Board Results were out! "The mother and the baby are doing fine" the nurse informed us. We were allowed to visit Sapna, once she was shifted to her room.

Sapna looked calm and peaceful in her slumber. Somehow she looked more ravishing now. There was newness in her face. Her skin glowed as the afternoon sunrays fell on her tenderly from the venetian blinds. Sanjeev was right next to her, caressing her forehead softly. I left them in their own seclusion and came out of the nursing home. An uneasy feeling crept inside me. I searched my pockets for the cigarettes and the lighter. I lit one and took a heavy drag. It felt fine. I decided to have a cup of tea too from the nearby tea stall. Nicotine and caffeine does wonders to tired nerves, you do agree with me Bhai, don't you?

I met the couple “ Sapna & Sanjeev some three years ago when my work brought me to this sleepy town down south in Kottayam. Our friendship clicked right from the very start. My house is just two houses away from theirs. I bumped into them one evening when Sanjeev was changing the flat tyre of their car right in front of my gate. I had just returned from work and the first thing I noticed was Sapna looking absent-mindedly towards the old banyan tree.
'Look at the bark of the tree. Doesn't it resemble an old lady with a wrinkled skin!", she exclaimed. "Sorry Sanjeev, that was rather a poor joke!" Sanjeev winked his eyes and nodded saying nothing. He was engrossed adjusting the jack. It was then I went forward and lent Sanjeev a helping hand. By the time the car was ready we really got talking. I invited them to my place, Sanjeev to wash his hands. That's how our friendship started.

But Sapna, she was and will always be a cute little thing to me. She is so child like, shy, nervous, reluctant and yet needy. Sapna “ the woman I have always dreamt of"! We never spoke much. Or maybe I talk less. Or maybe I could read her mind by looking at those expressive eyes. Or maybe I simply loved listening to her. She is an amazing woman.

Let me tell you this incident Bhai. It was one of those Sunday summer afternoons when Sanjeev and I decided to chill out with a beer each before the lunch. Sanjeev asked me to get the bottles from the fridge. As I entered the kitchen, Sapna was busy cooking. I said nothing and headed straight for the fridge. She turned around when she sensed there was someone else besides her in the kitchen. She saw me and heaved and before she could say anything I cut her short. "So you got scared, huh?" She looked at me for a moment, trying to study me and said, "No, I wasn't. There are only two things I am scared of. Reptiles and ghosts", she again looked at me closely, "and you resemble none!" I knew she would come up with something as weird as this. She was as passionate about nature and the homeless the way she was about tattoos and bungee jumping. These are perhaps a few things, which brought me closer to her. No matter how hard I tried to erase, her thoughts kept hitting me on my mind. The more I tried to refrain my feelings the more difficult it felt.

I was in love with her and I couldn't help myself. I was walking on the razor's edge and it was difficult to hold on to the reins. And I couldn't betray the trust and faith Sanjeev bestowed upon me. He was a buddy and I know what a buddy means and I swear on my life I wasn't eyeing my buddy's wife. I started distancing myself. I gave professional excuses to be away from them. Sanjeev would never accept these excuses and would off and on say that he wanted his old buddy back; the same old chap who helped him in changing the flat tyre. I never thought love came with such complications. I loved Sapna. Couldn't it sound simple? Couldn't it feel easy? Hell! No it wouldn't. My love and respect for her wasn't an attraction, a lust, a carnal desire or a lure. It was LOVE “ undiluted and pure". But could anybody understand? For it would be Sapna at the receiving end of all the unpleasant and derogatory remarks. For the woman of my dreams was already married. The standards and norms that we set and use as benchmarks for ourselves make us nothing but civilized beasts.

Sapna somehow sensed it. I am sure Bhai, for it always takes two to tango. Somewhere in some corner of her heart she felt the same, the way I did. But I never took it as a healthy sign. For a change I asked my God, not to be generous and kind to me. But Bhai, there has been times and instances when I've put my head and heart on the balance and found my heart on the heavier side. And that's when I slipped. I couldn't hold on to the reins at all. And it didn't matter whether it was right or wrong. It didn't matter if the sun didn't shine the next morning. All that mattered was the moment; it was real; “ the moment when she was lying close to me; the moment when I felt her warm breath on my skin; the moment when our heartbeats were synchronized. The truth.

My love and respect for Sapna is all the same. I can still look straight into her eyes the way I do always. How I wish things were as easy as said!

The cell phone rang and it was Sanjeev. "Where have you been?"he asked.
"I am outside, came down for a smoke. Will be there soon.", I said. I took out some change to pay for my tea “ I drank four cups! Amazing!

As I entered the room I saw the newborn on a cradle next to Sapna's bed. Sapna was still asleep. The tranquilizers were still going strong on her. I carefully lifted the baby in my arms. The baby felt like her mother. Maybe I was holding a part of my flesh; a part of my blood; a part of my love and a part of me. I don't know. I don't want to either. And the baby is too small to bear any or explain her resemblance.

It's only a feeling. Not a guilty one though.

Bhai, I don't want you to curse me. I wanted to confess and that's what I did. And now I know for sure, being honest is not at all a child's play.

Lovingly yours,
Bhai.

Hop, Skip & Bump!

2010-03-08T19:59:00.000+05:30

The winter was setting in; the sun didn't burn your skin anymore. On such a lazy afternoon I was enjoying homemade food Maa had prepared so lovingly and painstakingly for me. I was back home after a year and half. And I was enjoying the pampering and all the attention that was showered on me, it was good to be home and relaxing. Living alone can be tiresome at times. But right now things were sailing rather smoothly, I had not a care in the world and I thought no thing could go wrong. But as the old adage goes "Man proposes, God disposes“ fate unfortunately had different plans altogether for me. And just then I could hear the phone ringing, my father picked it up “ there was a call for me from my boss “ I was informed. I knew instantly what would follow next. As I feared I had to call off my vacation and report to my H.O. A.S.A.P. that is As Soon As Possible.

So despite my reluctance to tear myself off from this laidback cozy situation I found myself in I had to pack up my bags and get going. Under ordinary circumstances I would have happily boarded a train. But things were different now. I had orders. I should be at the H.O. A.S.A.P. That left me with just one alternative, one mode of transportation “ taking the earliest possible flight. The ticket was duly organized but it wasn't a direct flight, the route was Guwahati-Calcutta-Hyderabad. From Hyderabad I would have to take a bus or a train to my workstation in Bangalore.

I said my Good Byes with a heavy heart, boarded the flight and reached Calcutta exactly 45 minutes later, on schedule. Wait a minute; Kolkata I guess is the right way to say it nowadays. Somehow I always wonder why do we need to change the names of places we are so familiar with, we grew up with. Calcutta seemed smarter, Bombay sounds better than Mumbai as does Madras over Chennai. God knows one of these days New Delhi will become Nayee Dilli or something similar. But then these controversial issues certainly make good topics for discussion, Thank God.

Anyway, getting back to where I was. I reached Kolkata by 1.00 p.m. The scheduled stopover was 20 minutes at Kolkata, but we found ourselves stranded there for over an hour. Thankfully the flight took off again, but much to my fellow passengers and my astonishment the flight was diverted midway to Bhubaneshwar. We were stranded again for God knows how many hours! Reasons for the diversion were best known to the pilots, the air traffic control, the authorities and perhaps God! We were kept in the dark, the passengers were not important; we were not informed. Eventually the flight took off again and we reached Hyderabad, the watch showed the time as 11.00 p.m.

The delay was frustrating enough, but there was more in store for me to add my miseries. Waiting for my luggage near the luggage conveyor belt I spied luggage of various shapes and sizes rolling in, suddenly something caught my eye! As I stood there I couldn't help but make a joke about a dilapidated suitcase with its handle broken coming towards me and gave a slight laugh even as I sympathized with the unfortunate owner. But as the suitcase came nearer and nearer I realized to my horror, that the owner with whom I so sympathized was none other than myself! The airline staff had broken the handle. I was angry. I wanted to yell at the airline authorities and let them have my piece of mind. But regrettably I had other priorities that I had to attend to; the suitcase could wait till later. Alas I had no other choice but to carry the suitcase like a musician would carry his harmonium and left!

Coming out of the airport, I took an auto and asked the driver to take me to the bus terminus. He of course took the longest possible route that he could master, as if he was showing me the info-tech city in the dead of the night. I felt like an alien in a new place as I realized the modus operandi of the local transport services â€“ the way the tourist are duped when they come to a new place. Finally on arrival I found the bus terminus to be practically empty. I went into the enquiry counter and inquired whether I could get a bus to Bangalore. The man informed me in a cold matter of fact way that there weren't any direct bus services at that hour of the night to Bangalore, however, I could get one bus that would cover at least half the distance. Consoling myself that something is better than nothing, I hoped into the half way bus. It was an old bus, maybe older than even my father! We were just seven people in the bus. We took off and the moment the bus was in motion it felt as if it would break all my bones and as if I was riding a horse that had suddenly gone absolute berserk!

We reached a small town around 4.00 a.m. in the morning and if you were to ask me the name of the town, I swear, for the life of me I cannot recall the name. As we reached the terminus the bus came to a halt, I got down and sat on one of the plastic chairs clutching the handbag and with my suitcase sitting next to me. Sleep was of course impossible I couldn't get a wink. An army of angry mosquitoes came charging towards me, hovered and then attacked me from all sides making my plight all the more miserable.

Soon it was daylight, the terminus with gradually increasing activities seem to wake up. A young lad of about ten years of age walked up to me and asked if I wanted to have my shoes polished. "Polish my shoes?"! After the mammoth marathon, it really didn't matter whether my shoes shone or not! All that I could think of was to reach Bangalore by hook or by crook. But then I changed my mind. There was something about this lad, which beckoned me “ I gave in and he cheerfully started polishing my shoes. I observed he did his work really well; poor chap having to earn his living from such a tender age, I thought. Yet, he didn't seem to mind. I started narrating my woeful stories of the day to him. He seemed to listen well with the occasional grunt, the nod of his head although, I am sure none of this was of any interest to him nor was it really his business “ but he was a really good listener, he made his customers feel good.

The lad really impressed me. I wanted to freshen up and I asked him to look after my belongings for a while, as I reasoned, who else could I ask in this God forsaken place and that too at this hour. Although at the back of my mind, I knew very well that I was not doing the right thing, it was wrong to trust a stranger even a tiny one with your belongings in a strange place. But it was a risk I had to take. To my relief the lad had guarded my luggage like an obedient watchman. After I freshened up I gave him some money requesting him to get two cups of tea. "TWO"? He looked surprised. "Yes", I said, "for both of us". Initially he refused but when I said that he had really impressed and pleased me and that I was thankful for his help he reluctantly accepted it. The caffeine eased my tensed nerves somewhat and I was ready to board a bus to Bangalore again.

At last I reached Bangalore by 10.00 a.m. and resumed my duties A.S.A.P.- back to the grind, the same old routine started. Unlike at home where everything is so laid back, here the scene is just the reverse. Sometimes it seems twenty-four hours in a day is not enough. The most terrible thing about the whole situation is cooking my own meal, as you may well imagine after enjoying homemade food for a fortnight¦ my cooking skills waned even further! I had to brush upon that too! I swear, this is the only reason why I don't like living alone. But I am not complaining as I get a lot of space to do my own thing, my own way. Well, let us be philosophical “ you gain some and you loose some“ that's life “ that's the way it is!

When I was unpacking the suitcase at the weekend notice the broken handle again. I called the airlines office, a female voice answered and I lodged the complaint. She informed me very politely that I should visit their office with the suitcase and they would then look into the matter and do the needful. After I hung up the phone I thought for a while, by no stretch of imagination can one say that the airlines office is near my home or for that matter even my workstation. I realized I would have to take a days leave from my work just to take the suitcase to the airlines office, let alone the expenses involved. The odds were stacked high against me, it was better to be pragmatic and have it repaired myself.

The Commercial Street is quite near my place. I waited for the next weekend and took the suitcase to a small shop, repaired it giving it a much-needed face-lift. It felt good, now I have a suitcase perfectly useable on another sojourn to the Northeast, to my near and dear ones. But, that will have to wait for another day; now I have work to do, please the Boss, and obey his orders.

Its been two years now. I haven't taken a vacation since my last adventure or was it a mishap?! Whenever I call home, my folks ask me when do I intend to visit them? I hem and haw never giving a direct answer. The very thought of the journey gives me the jitters; I do not know whether to laugh or to cry! I get vivid pictures of the broken handle, the endless delays, the ways of the auto drivers (duping me), the bus ride and the bevy of mosquitoes! Yes, I do prefer to sit back now. And oh yes, I do miss my mother's cooking, the love and nearness of the family too, very very much.

If I have to another journey again and find myself having to overcome such odds, I'll definitely put down everything in a journal, record every detail in black and white hoping that it will someday provide some guidelines to innocent travelers who is about to walk into such a trap or at least make a good reading material for some during such a sojourn. I wish them all the very best of luck as I wish myself the same and hope that someone up there will always look after them and not abandon them.

A little bit of this & a little bit of that.

2010-03-01T11:52:00.000+05:30

It’s been a while that I wrote something.
Maybe I’ve been in simple words “just lazy” to write.
Maybe I was getting too busy being a mom and a housewife.
Whatever the reasons be; today I just felt like doing the thing which feels so relaxing. And just as I sat down on my couch with the earphones plugged to my ears setting my all time favourite music on the playlist, distraction started pouring in left right and centre!
First it was my daughter who wanted to get cozy. You might think this is so cute but if truth be told her main intention was to play havoc with the laptop! After sending her off to her dad, I sat down again trying to go back to that same frame of mind as I longed. And the phone started buzzing! After speaking for about five odd minutes with my aunt I just lost track of what I was supposed to do. So I walked straight to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator expecting to find something special to nibble when I know well that its all the leftovers that are there! So I just popped a small piece of chocolate which is my daughter’s possession! Thank God she doesn’t know to count!
Chocolate sure is a mood lifter. I decided to go back to my writing mood. But I guess nothing was in my stride today evening. The door bell rang and it was a friend, who got married very recently and just back in town after a ten day honeymooning in Bangkok. And no matter how much I wanted to say a quick hello and come back to my laptop and start typing I could not. It would look rather discourteous not because he had a bag full of goodies for us but because he is like “family”! So there went some more precious moment and I could feel I was losing my grip, I had such a wonderful spin to yarn but now that seemed slowly fading. I excused myself and left them the guys with their scotches and crabs & shark meat crunchies and the men talk.
As I sat down for the nth time, I heard Mougli (one of our pet dog) barking unstoppably and I knew there was someone else on the door!
Ok! Now it was more than I could handle. There was this other friend of ours who came along with his cousin. By the time they arrived I had almost completed a few lines of what I was writing and I didn’t want to mess this nor miss the opportunity of finishing whatever mindless things that I was typing. So whether I was being impolite or rude I don’t know. My hellos to them was at the door only and I asked them to head straight to the kitchen where all the action was happening and I said I’d join them in a bit, “just need to complete something really important that I am writing at the moment!”
So this is where my writing ends today evening. Will get back with a fresh frame of mind and ample “my time” and so some really serious writing some other time!
Ciao!

Half Nelson- Not just another teen movie - www.youthcomm.org

2010-01-30T15:56:00.000+05:30

Half Nelson
Not Just Another Teen Movie
By Daniela Castillo
When I heard about Half Nelson, a new movie about a white teacher in Brooklyn who befriends one of his black students, I thought of Dangerous Minds and The Principal-other movies about troubled white educators who reform minority rebels in poor neighborhoods. Those movies showed wonderful white adults saving the poor black and Latino kids, assuming, of course, that they needed to be saved.
Crisscrossing Lives
Half Nelson isn't so simple. Unlike those other movies, it doesn't give a black and white, right or wrong picture about morals, class or race. It's an honest story about a teacher and student whose lives crisscross through an unlikely event.
Half Nelson features a junior high school history teacher, Dan Dunne, played by Ryan Gosling, who plays the role with conviction and honesty. Everything in his performance is brilliantly simple-he plays an easygoing teacher and passionate dreamer who genuinely wants to teach his mostly black students something worth knowing.
But his personality outside the classroom is completely different. With his students he's assertive and strong, but back home, he's weak and pathetic.
Teacher Has a Secret
The twist is that he's part of something that plagues many inner city kids-Mr. Dunne smokes crack.
One day, 13-year-old Drey (played by Shareeka Epps) finds him barely conscious in the girls' bathroom, holding a crack pipe. Instead of panicking, Drey becomes intrigued by the vulnerability of her teacher and begins to seek him out to learn more about his problem.
Drey knows the drug game first hand. Her brother is in jail for dealing drugs and the man he worked for, the charming dealer Frank, helps Drey and her mom financially. Frank (played by Anthony Mackie) is also Mr. Dunne's dealer.
Meanwhile, Mr. Dunne's downward spiral with drugs continues. Hoping to clean up his act, he tries to pick up his grubby apartment and even does a brief 10-minute workout in a feeble attempt to repair his health.
But his hypocrisy confronts him when he goes back to class every day, talking about history while nursing his drug and booze hangover from the night before.
And in that classroom is Drey, reminding him why he teaches in the first place.
Shareeka Epps holds up in her performance playing a 13-year-old tough girl. I saw her first in the short film Gowanus, Brooklyn, on which this movie was based. Three years later, her more adult voice and growth only strengthen the character's key attributes-her maturity and coolness.
Not Just Blowing Bubbles
As she befriends Mr. Dunne, we see that Drey's not always in calm Blow Pop eating mode. Sometimes when she's with her teacher, she breaks out into corny jokes and a shy smile, showing that kid side-which makes her performance even more impressive.
Mr. Dunne awkwardly but honestly opens himself up to Drey, giving her rides home and showing her the civil rights books at his apartment. And he finds the chance to redeem himself when he finds out that Frank has his eye on Drey to replace her brother. Mr. Dunne makes several attempts to confront Frank, but addiction gets the best of him and his plan goes awry.
Teens Will Relate
Although Half Nelson is nothing like the typical teen movie-where the football player falls in love with the nerd-turned-prom queen-I think teens will relate to it. I went to a junior high school like the school in the movie, and the scenes in the classroom-with kids shouting out silly answers-were so on point.
Half Nelson is one of those rare films that explores the idea of redemption without seeming heroic or righteous. And the film's flawed characters and heavy themes actually make the movie feel inspirational and optimistic to me.
Half Nelson was directed by Ryan Fleck, who also co-wrote Gowanus, Brooklyn, with Anna Boden. It's rated R for drug use and tough language

Strange Questions

2009-12-28T19:17:00.000+05:30

This is something I found in FB and it was so interesting decided to put it here as well:

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
No…

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU Cried?
yesterday when Nior got her dose of vaccine, I cried too!

3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
I used to, but now I type more that write!

4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
I usually stick to veggies for lunch.

5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Nior is my lifeine… & so is Nirav, at times he is more babyish!

6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
of course yes!

7. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
….yep…. & with those who deserve that type of lingo!

8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
yep and everything else I was born with

9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
aaah! YES!
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Nothing as such…. But oats is ok.

11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
yeah

13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM
chocolate chip

14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
shoes… & women with sandals … how well groomed the feet are.

15. RED OR PINK?
Can I say orange?

16. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
I tend to trust people too soon.

17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST ?
My family

18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO COMPLETE THIS LIST?
As long as it sounds interesting why not?

19. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Black corduroy & blue bedroom slippers

21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
Give me some sunshine from 3 Idiots

22. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Green

23. FAVORITE SMELL?
Nior’s is a mix of Johnson’s Baby powder... Lactogen… her sweat…

Otherwise its Miracle by Lancome or Pleasures by Estee Lauder

24.THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Boon

25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?
No one sent me this, was surfing here & there when I came across this.

26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Swimming & Diving, Golf, Tennis & Soccer.

27. HAIR COLOR?
Dark Brown

28. EYE COLOR?
Dark brown

29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
No, I enter them on my phone -hehe

30. FAVORITE FOOD?
Mixed grill sizzlers!

31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings… in reel & real life.

32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
3 Idiots

33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Dark blue

34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
Both… but summers are good for swimming & winters are good for great outdoor adventures.

35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs & Kisses… & lots of it!

36. FAVORITE DESSERT?
chocolate soufflé.

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
all.

38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
dunno!

39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Barrack Obama’s Dreams from my Father.

40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
it’s a lappy…

41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?
Chris Angel’s Mind Freak!

42. FAVORITE SOUND(S)?
walking on a wooden floor.

43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles… Rolling Stones… Bread… Metallica…. Def Leppard… Scorpions…

44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Been always at home no matter where I am!

45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I guess so…

46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Guwahati.

47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
Everyone’s

48. HOW DID YOU MEET YOUR SPOUSE/SIGNIFICANT OTHER?
…. Haahaaaa!.... met him thru my then supposedly bf!

49. IS THE CUP HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY?
Half Full …

50. IF YOU COULD SIT DOWN TO DINNER WITH FIVE PEOPLE WHO WOULD YOU CHOOSE?

Nirav, Nior as of now…

Twenty Five Random Things about me

2009-05-12T10:56:00.000+05:30

I live life King Size… at least I try, but there are times when I get miserable; when things don’t go the way I wished…
I think the saying “if there’s light, there is darkness too; if there’s good there’s evil and if there’s God then there’s Satan too”… hold true!
If life had been a vacation I’d love to be in Fiji!
I listen to advices but might not necessarily implement each and every one… I’d rather filter it and take those which satisfy my own rationale!
Life sure has been a roller coaster ride for me, but I’ve been through it without giving up and looking back now I think I’ve enjoyed that roller coaster ride.
There are some people I wish I never met and then there are those I wished I had met them earlier then I did!
Never thought motherhood would change the meaning of my life until I became one!
If God grants me a second life I’d love to be the way I am now… aah! Maybe could do with a less extra pounds on my waistline!
That I am lucky to have Nirav & he is equally lucky to have me is mutually exclusive!
If I was a musician I’d surely be a bass guitarist … or a drummer!
If I had taken the game of tennis seriously when my dad insisted I wish I had listened to him… now it’s no point mulling over it!
Sketching is not my forte. I am hopeless!
One thing I’ve realized is if you look before you leap, you may never have to leap at all.
Waking up early in the morning is not as terrible as I always thought.
Life might not always give me a second chance, so why not grab those opportunities coming my way?
A simple equation always seems “too much math” for me!
Multi Tasking is a way of life.
Cooking is actually not rocket science at all!
I wish I was a bit more diplomatic when it comes to handling relationships.
For me its either black or white. There ain’t room for grey areas.
If it hadn’t been for my parents I’d never been here writing this in the first place… lots of love to them always.
Meditation is a great stress buster.
It’s a small world and Face Book testifies that!
If I could punch someone on the face I’d definitely knock a few people down!
I am not an anti social but somehow the very idea of visiting relatives and gossiping over hot cuppa teas & samosas isn’t my idea of spending quality time!

$#@%^&&* bleep...@#$%^$@ Bleep PLEASE!

2009-04-12T21:42:00.001+05:30

Rakhi Sawant will find her Mr. Right through a Reality Show! Man that sounds too cheesy!

Then we have a bunch of lads & ladies on Splitsvilla trying to find love while strangulating, swearing, hitting each other…

Then there are the Roadies… so much of poli-tickling…. Bitching… ! They surely deserve a seat amidst our Netas!

I haven’t had much time to catch up with another set of individuals in another reality show called Sarkar Ki Duniya… the few minutes I’ve seen, they act crazy… lunatic to be more precise!

And why am I complaining? Don’t I enjoy to see these same people fighting each other, abusing … abusing and much more abusing…. BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP… goes the audio….

And I also have the last laugh when one of them is voted out they cry as if it is the end of the road! Weren’t they the same people who had voted????

April Agenda

2009-04-12T21:18:00.000+05:30

April means summer. Stupid… Stupid… Stupid… it means SPRING… the trees with the new foliage, flowers blooming… it seems fine…

This April fooling someone was not on my mind, not even remotely. And its only the 1^st of April that one is supposed to play dirty pranks on everyone … for me the day came and went by just like any other day.

It was just the other day when Boon was about to leave when I did the much belated April Fool thing to him!

Its very routine for Boon to come to our home directly after work and share a few drinks & smoke with Nirav and leaves by nine-ish.

On that day he decided to leave early as he had to take back home some chicken. And then the devil in me came up! I asked him to finish of his drink before leaving. He was certain that he had done the “bottoms up” to his drink but I insisted that he hadn’t finished. After adjusting his ear phones to his cells phone he turned around took the glass and gulped it only to realize that it was empty! And I shouted APRIL FOOL!!!

We all had a good laugh and he left…

I was thrilled like a kid to have played a prank after so long.

I completely forgot about this episode and got back to my regular life as the days passed. Yesterday afternoon I received an sms from him. He seemed annoyed with me. He mentioned in his sms that if I don’t like his coming to our house so regularly I should tell him on his face directly. I was taken aback to read this and thought of all the possibilities, if I had something rudely in the last few days. I thought for a long time and couldn’t find any reason. I immediately buzzed him. He took a long time to answer. And when he did he just said one thing, “Are you the only one who can fool people in April?”!!!!!!

That was fun! Its like the saying….what goes around … comes around!

Notes on a Sunday evening

2009-03-15T19:54:00.000+05:30

Why does it take so long for me to write the next blog? It must be the Blogger’s block! I guess it happens to all. There are plenty of things on my mind, things I wanna let out but when it actually comes down to do the needful I just let it pass by. And then out of the blue when I am into something else; for example maybe when chopping onions this thought creeps back and tells me that I should have written it and not leave behind in my thoughts only!

A few things that calls my immediate attention are –

1. Need to collect music again… songs I grew up listening… need to compile as mp3s or buy the CDs … starting from Beatles, Bread, Dire Straits, Bon Jovi, Floyd… will continue this list as & when I recall…

2. Start collecting the movies too…

3. Books….

… just wondering how with time we let go things we loved so much… is it the responsibility … ?

my views

2009-03-02T18:30:00.000+05:30

CHILDREN OF THE

IDIOT BOX

By Mamta Sen

Maharashtra Labour Minister Nawab Malik has created a stir in the entertainment industry by sending notices to all television producers through the labour commissioner about the safety norms for child artistes working on the sets and the long hours they put in. Most television channels declined to comment on the notice, with some claiming that they had not even received it. But measures are being put in place to ensure that the child actors do not disclose information about their work conditions and schedules.

Television channel Colors which is airing at least four serials with children in the lead — Balika Vadhu, Uttaran, Jai Sri Krishna and Chhote Miyan — was not particularly forthcoming on this. Programming head Ashvini Yardi pointed out that these serials try to focus on social issues that have never before been dealt with on Indian television. “Our single biggest priority is to offer programming that will help break through the clutter and this is why you will see us deliver a strong proposition of differentiation and distinctive content,” she said.

The channel has ensured that children acting in its serials do not interact with the media. This has reportedly been incorporated in formal agreements, according to a family friend of Balika Vadhu’s lead character Avika Gor who plays the role of Anandi.

Eleven-year-old Avika is today the most sought after face on Indian television. She has won an award for Best Female Child Artiste, as well as for Best Female Newcomer, Best Female Artiste, and Best Fresh Face, outdoing senior actresses. Rumours are, Avika, who is earning lakhs of rupees, has stopped going to school. Numerous calls to her father Sameer by this correspondent went unanswered. Avika has also started modelling and recently walked the ramp for an imitation jewellery designer at a five-star hotel. She is also making her debut in a movie Paathshala with actor Shahid Kapoor. It also stars her “rival”, ten-year-old Swini Khara.

Swini had made audiences sit up with her crisp performance in Balki’s Cheeni Kum starring Amitabh Bachchan, where she played the role a terminally ill patient. She began her career as a three-year-old modelling for Ajanta toothpaste and hit the big screen with Kalpana Lajmi’s Chingari and Hari Puttar. Her forthcoming films include Paathshala [with Avika] and Kaalo, as well as a voice over in Nikhil Advani’s Ab Delhi Door Nahin. Swini, who was nominated for Best Child Artiste [female] along with Avika for her role in Baa Bahoo aur Baby on Star Plus, confesses that though she does get tired, it is the sheer enjoyment of acting that keeps her going. Her mother Shilpa though believes work schedules often differ with each production house. “Swini generally does shooting after school, but we prefer commercials to films or serials since they wrap up pretty fast. We often tend to bunk school for commercials since they usually take up an entire day,” the mother said, adding that children too should be compensated since school is kind of “work” for them. “Juggling school and shootings together often takes a toll, but Swini carries her school books to the film sets and studies between shots,” said Shilpa, refusing to answer how much her daughter is paid for her long hours of work. She admitted, however, that the competition was getting extremely stiff.

Casting director Mona Irani, who has been working with child actors for the last 16 years, said, “Earlier there used to be a mere ten kids auditioning for one role. Now around 150-200 kids land up, out of which only one will probably be selected.” She said that this increase in numbers has become noticeable over the past five years. “There is a lot of talent, it is just a question of getting the right break,” she said. Mona was of the view that more than producers, parents need to be pulled up by the Government for pushing their children to the brink.

“Parents themselves give permission for their kids to shoot for 14 hours at a stretch. The notice should have been sent to them instead. Most parents want their kids to be mini-stars. Once the child gets a taste of fame they stop him or her from going to school. Quick money and instant recognition is what drives parents to push their children to such limits. They are trying to live their dreams through the child,” said Mona, adding that the remuneration ranges between Rs 5,000 to Rs 1 lakh a day.

Money, and not safety, is of utmost importance, according to several coordinators in the entertainment industry. A modelling coordinator confided that film sets were often not safe for child actors. “You often have men, specially technicians, landing up drunk on the sets and I have seen kids left alone by parents to fend for themselves, with no separate rooms for them to relax. So yes, they are vulnerable and it is almost as if we are waiting for a disaster to happen,” he said.

Hansika Motwani, a former child artiste who made her debut opposite Himesh Reshammiya in Aap Kaa Surroor: The Real Luv Story last year, is a case in point. “Her mother used to call the shots. The child at eleven years was even made to act as a rape victim in a movie called Jaago based on a real life incident. This movie catapulted her to the status of the highest paid child actor then. Though the girl is only 18 years old today, she looks over 30 and has hardly made an impact as a heroine,” insiders point out.

“The child should be given an opportunity to decide,” according to theatre artiste Debashish Chanda whose two daughters Swarna and Prothoma have been acting in serials since three years old. While Swarna [9] has acted in Neelanjana on 9X, Prothoma [6] is busy doing commercials. “Work only depends on the number of scenes per day and yes, though juggling school and shooting is tiresome, one cannot help it,” Debashish said. He admitted to being disappointed if his children failed the auditions, adding, “Favouritism is rampant here as well; which is why I have registered my kids in the Cine Artiste Association as members to protect them from being taken for a ride.”

Swarna, of course, did not know what the fuss was all about. “Sometimes I do get tired but it’s okay. In school I am the only one who is famous and I love it when everyone notices me,” she said with a big smile [¼]

REALITY BITES FILM STARS

The small screen has always been regarded as the last hope for resurrecting one’s acting career. Amitabh Bachchan gave a shot to his career with Kaun Banega Crorepati?, a lead that several actors followed. TRP ratings for Salman Khan’s Dus Ka Dum, Shah Rukh Khan’s Kya Aap Panchvi Pass Se Tez Hai? and Akshay Kumar’s Fear Factor remained low and dissuaded others from anchoring similar shows. Instead, film personalities decided to play the role of celebrity judges in several song and dance reality shows, rather than actually acting in teleserials as was the case over a decade ago. Indian Idol, Sa Re Ga Ma Pa Challenge, Star Voice of India, Nach Baliye and Jhalak Dhikhhla Jaa are some of the more popular shows where celebrities take on the role of strict judges, often relaxing sufficiently to sing or dance with the contestants.

To spice up their shows, the channels are wooing film personalities who are in great demand. Nach Baliye 4 has Farah Khan, Arjun Rampal and Karisma Kapoor as its judges, while the relatively new dance show, Dancing Queen has Hema Malini and Jeetendra.

Rajesh Kamat, chief executive officer of Colors, says that proper weekend programming along with a good choice of celebrities as anchors is the formula for a successful show. However, as sources pointed out, for many of the film personalities the show becomes an opportunity to project their ongoing films. For instance, Deepika Padukone has paired up with MTV Roadies with the return benefit of publicising her new movie Chandni Chowk to China. “I too have been an avid watcher of the show and I think it is a complete blast,” she said when asked about this.

Makarand Wadekar, principal consultant for I Search which tracks TRP points, said that several reality shows were running on advertising revenue and a celebrity was taken on as a judge simply to raise the ratings. “But if the script and idea of a particular show are clear and bold enough to pass on the real message then celebrities are not used for the show,” he said giving the example of Sony TV where the song-based shows enjoy the highest TRP ratings currently.

As for reality channels, two will be launched by CNBC-TV 18 and Turner International on 1 January 2009. The total investment for these over the next three years is expected to be US $39 billion of which $12 billion has already been invested in India. Sports 18 of CNBC will also start operating with an adventure reality show called Volvo Ocean Rally.

I agree what casting director Mona Irani has to say – it’s the parents who need to be pulled by the Govt. more than the channel producers.
When we were kids competition existed only in school – debate, song & dance, extempore, in the field – sports… and it was healthy. It managed to keep a balance between studies & other co-curricular activities.
When Sony started with Boogie Woogie years back it wasn’t a reality show of sorts. It was a kind of competition and aired on television.
The entire country was swept with the reality bug with the launch of shows like The Great Indian Laughter Challenge, Indian Idol, Sa Re Ga Ma… and soon every channel had its own version of song, dance, drama shows without being too much different from one another. At the end it all seemed same.
Reality show has exploited the middle class urban Indians, soon everyone wanted to become a millionaire by answering a few questions thrown to them at random; everyone wished to get their three seconds of fame and would go to any extent to grab it. Some of the contestants were so dumb in the quiz shows! It’s such a pity!
As far as children are concerned; we all love kids but like everything else even an overdose of kids makes the experience insipid.
Hansika Motwani who appeared on a TV series Desh Mein Nikla Hoga Chand first was a delight but such a cry baby and overgrown she was it surely was overkill.
We all loved Jugal Hansraj as the super cute Rahul in Massom but he hardly made an impact as an actor later.
Urmilla Matondkar (another child actor whom we adored in Masoom) became the hot favourite in everybody’s list perhaps after the Rangeela makeover. I wonder if anyone remembers her prior Rangeela.
When I first saw Avika as Anandi in Balika Vadhu I loved her instantly. Her performance would light up those thirty minutes of the series. But once while surfing channels I caught her in some award function where she was being nominated and was performing as well on stage. When questioned about her likes, dislikes and the rest; it didn’t take me long to realize that this little Anandi has lost her innocence somewhere in all the adulation, fame as well as the moolah.
It’s very sad.
My own niece did a couple of press advertisement and TV commercials. It started only as a fun thing. She was barely 5 or 6 years then. But like any other job this too demanded a lot of focus and time and neither my sis-in-law or her husband had time to tag along with her for the shoots. Many a times she missed school. Yes her parents were proud to see their daughter – huge billboards, centerspreads featuring her but they were very right in taking the decision that studies come first and she has to do that first. So now my niece who is 10 is no longer the “glam babe”. She neither her parents regrets this.
I only wish if all parents were as sensible as them.
Another drawback about serials today is the fact that they are infinite! Had it been just the thirteen episodes like the good old Doordarshan days maybe it’d be a lot easier for the kids to balance their school and appearing on the idiot box.
As for TRP rate thinning, there are so many channels and so little to watch. And whatever there is on the platter; it’s the same everywhere. So TRPs would definitely fall.
We need a change. We need real comedies and not slapstick ones like Taarak Mehta Ka Oolta Chasma. We need good stories which should end in a stipulated time and not stretch for years. Fox History airs Bhanwar and I love watching this series and don’t mind being a repeat watch. We need series like Katha Sagar. Such lovely stories it had to tell. We need comic relief from the likes of Pankaj Kapur’s Office Office and wouldn’t mind a Rajni as well. We could perhaps welcome Byomkesh Bakhsi than seeing the CID guys being so dull, blatantly moronic – anyone watching the CSI series on AXN would regard our Desi CIDs to be such buffoons.
Is anyone listing?

Shillong Revisited

2009-02-12T18:26:00.000+05:30

I’ve always considered Shillong to be my second home. I have fond memories of the place and my childhood. My summer vacations always meant Shillong. As we ascended the altitude the breeze would get cooler, the air would smell fresh and it seemed the pine trees welcomed me in their folds with love and warmth.

Those endless walks – be it in the Ward’s Lake, the Beaver Road, the golf links… the shop hopping in Police Bazaar, jalebis from Dilli Mistan, the road side alu tikkis & chole and roasted corns! And also sometimes it was a quick dip in the Crinoline pool. We’d always walk, take the zigzag short cuts and never did it tire me nor did my feet ache.

It was the perfect holiday for me year after year and I never got bored of this yearly custom!

I never realized that this once a year rendezvous wouldn’t last a lifetime.

With my studies taking the better of me and Maa’s passing away it almost stopped. Because Shillong without my Maa wasn’t fun you see. It’s always been with her that I prized every moment of Shillong. My Shillong Aita was still there but for some raison d'être which I never understood my Guwahati Aita prevented me from visiting her. I never asked her, it seemed so useless to ask the woman because I know she’d never tell me the truth or the rationale behind her decision.

Thus ended my Shillong rendezvous leaving me morose.

It however doesn’t mean that I never visited this place again. I did. I did it with my friends and during my Unilever days as a trainer; too many times impossible to count now. But it never felt the same. Yes, the breeze did get pleasant as we climbed the hills, the air still felt fresh, I still felt the pine trees welcoming me, but somehow the warmth and love was missing. It didn’t feel like “home coming”. I felt like an alien in midst of strangers and sightseers.

One thought constantly haunted me in my every visit. I wanted to meet Aita, just see her once, but I was so psyched with Guwahati Aita’s “sermons” that I stopped myself form going to my second home, leaving me bitterer every time I came back from there.

Years passed by, almost a decade, in fact a decade and two years… it was the month of August of 2008. We again decided to go to Shillong for a day. It was Neeyor’s first trip to this wonderland. We packed our picnic basket and got going. As we stepped out of home, I made up my mind that whatever it costs I’ll visit Aita. And throughout the hundred kilometers of the journey the only thing on my mind was how Aita would react, was she cross with me for not visiting her for so long, would she let me inside the house, would she reprimand me. I knew it was useless to ponder over these. All I could do was face the situation as it would unfold.

Once we reached Shillong we strolled through Police Bazaar, bought a few knick knacks and then proceeded towards Upper Shillong for lunch. My mind all the while was affixed to Aita’s thoughts only. Post lunch we were back in town and it was the moment I had waited for so long.

Nirav didn’t know the place; I gave him the directions to Aita’s house. As I stepped out of the car and walked towards the gate the compound looked unfamiliar. The gates were locked, I banged on it but no one opened. Having no other option left I went to the neighbour’s house on the opposite. The lady who’s Aita’s friend was amazed to see me, she hugged me like her own child and when I said the gates were locked she ordered her servant to accompany me to Aita’s house. She looked somewhat bewildered but I let pass by. I thought it was all but natural to look bemused to see me after such a long time.

I realized my folly when the servant let me in through a smaller gate. Once inside the compound I also realized that the main house had been converted to a pre-nursery school and Aita was perhaps staying only in one part of that huge house. The servant left and I knocked the door. A few seconds later a young lad looked me through the glass pane and then opened. I asked about Aita and he let me in. As I went inside I saw her seated on the bed. She turned around as I entered the room and said “Nandini, why did it take you so long to come?” I stood froze. She recognized me I thought! As per everyone who has met her prior to me told that she recognizes nobody.

She looked so much the same except for her hair which had turned into a shade of silvery white and her skin had fine wrinkles. Never has a woman looked so good in wrinkles. Her hair was neatly tied into a bun. As I hugged her she still smelt the usual of Pond’s talcum powder. I didn’t even realize when tears started dripping from my eyes. And I didn’t have an answer to her question. I couldn’t tell her that I was “very busy with work, married life and a baby”. I couldn’t tell her my Guwahati Aita “psyched” me not to visit her. I simply didn’t have an answer. I never felt as culpable as the way I felt then. I introduced Nirav and Neeyor to her. She spoke to Nirav for a long time and then she touched Neeyor’s little feet and said, “Everyone says babies are God’s replica, can this little one tell me when will I die? Can she bless me so that I die soon?”

I felt heavy, the lump in my throat felt painful. I felt so silly and stupid to have thought whether she’d let me inside the house, scold me or not talk to me. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes.
She again started talking. She told me the same things she had told Nirav. I thought maybe she had forgotten and hence repeating those to me. But I was wrong. For all the time we spent with her, she kept narrating those few lines of her life over and over again. Her sorrows, her misgivings and her loneliness. Then she started speaking about my Maa, my Aunt and my cousins. But the irony is she could not realize that I am her daughter’s daughter. She spoke about Dipli (my cousin) but failed to picture her and my Aunt as mother –daughter.

I felt so sorry for her. I wanted to bring her back to Guwahati with me. But that wasn’t possible. She couldn’t walk; she’s on a wheelchair when she’s not on the bed. The lad who opened the door stays with her and there’s another woman who cooks for her and nurses her.

As we left Shillong, meandering through the pine groves, descending the altitude, I still felt heavy, I still cried and tried to hide those tears when Nirav or Boon looked back to talk to me. But the guiltiness gradually faded and it was almost gone by the time we were home.

Visiting her truly seemed “home coming”.

It’s just a few days ago I heard from someone in the family that Aita’s no more. I don’t even know exactly when that was. I was casually sms-ing Loya when she sms-ed me back “Sorry to hear about your grandmother.”

At that moment I only prayed and wished maybe she passed away in silence and in peace. This is what she wanted so desperately. I hope she finds solace wherever her spirits are now. At least I saw her once, for a few minutes and even if she remembers nothing she did ask me why I took so long to visit her…

I don’t know if Shillong would feel the same again. If those pine trees would ever wrap me in their love and warmth, if the Oakland house would be the same without her, would I ever get the feeling of “home coming”…

Three weeks and three movies:My Reviews

2009-02-10T21:40:00.000+05:30

The year started with a big bang for a movie buff like me. Never has good movies and of different genres hit the screens uniformly in succession. I was still in the Ghajini miasma, appreciating the Mr. Perfectionist for playing the role of an amnesiac so believably, for being so organized in his daily chores making a note of everything he does and I must also mention here he played the corporate bigwig with equal élan. Never has he looked so somber yet stylish.

Still in that haze I let pass Chandni Chowk to China. For some reasons or for that intuitive Aquarian in me I never wished to watch Mr. Action Kumar for 180 odd minutes bashing up goons or trying to be a buffoon or romancing a certain Ms. Padukone who looked so silly with her fringe in a desperate attempt to look like a Chinese damsel!

And then came the much awaited Slumdog Millionaire. I watched the movie out of curiosity. The only likeable actor for me in Slumdog was Irrfan but he had such a small role to play.
The movie was good. (It has to be since its been sweeping awards in all the big award circuit) but I wouldn’t take it back with me like the way I took Ghajini. The movie's got everything - the pulse of the slums, the people and their lifestyles, typical Bollywood masalas but somehow it didn’t move me. The only scene I think it made me sit up is when Jamal jumps into a pool of shit to escape from the loo so that he can get an autograph of Big B! The Taj Mahal scene was hilarious - especially the way the duo - Jamal and Salim steal shoes and fake as tourist guides rewriting the lives of Shah Jahan & Mumtaz! And also commendable is the scene where the call center employees gather around the TV to watch "Who wants to be a millionaire" and when they see Jamal in the hot seat; some of them exclaim "The Chaiwala!"
Yes there were moments, but too few and too far.

Next week it was Luck By Chance. I have enjoyed Farhan’s Dil Chahta Hai as a director and in Rock On he was true rock star. (But I still prefer Mr. Arjun “hot” Rampal in the movie – sorry Farhan!).
I went to watch it since there wasn’t anything else to do on a Sunday evening. Starting from the name casting the movie managed to get hold of my attention in totality! One could actually feel the pulse of what goes behind making a movie. The struggle, the plotting to surpass a fellow struggler, the life of a young single woman and a man in an urban city, the quirkiness of pampered actors is shown with all the fine points intact.

And then came Dev D. Its one movie I’ll count as my evergreen favourites. The movie is not about sex, alcohol and drugs. It’s not about the dialogues being right on your face. It’s not about always being on a perpetual high.
It’s about the unrequited love, the pain of not being with the person you love because you let her go. It’s about finding solace in someone else. The moment you think you love her but find it difficult to acknowledge it because you think you love someone else who cannot be with you.
It’s also not about ending your life because you are a loser and everything has gone wrong. It’s about reformation.
The best scene is perhaps when Dev consoles Chanda like one does to his child.
I wonder if there will be any other Hindi movie like Dev D.
I don’t know if any other actor would fit in Dev D’s shoes as did Abhay Deol and Chanda … she seemed like a young girl next door caught in between the turbulence of life and womanhood too early.

Cheers to Dev D!

Sorry Shah Rukh!

2009-02-09T22:57:00.000+05:30

(I hate to write this piece of blog. But if I don’t, things would go in circles inside my brain and drive me into a state of insanity! Well a bit of exaggeration here but that would do no harm to me or to the man in question, for I know there is a possibility of one is to a zillion chances that Shah Rukh would ever read this.)

Dear Shah Rukh,

I am one among the million fans you have. I remember first seeing you as Abhimanyu in a serial called Fauji. You were so young then. For me it was love at first sight. I was a bit disappointed when the series ended. Those were the good old days of Doordarshan and serials would not go beyond thirteen episodes with a few exceptions however.

You came back again as a delightful surprise in another series named Circus. For some reasons I didn’t enjoy this as much as I did your Fauji. But nevertheless I’d wait every week for that one episode to catch a glimpse of you.

And suddenly you were gone. Out of sight is out of mind. Yes I do agree, but you were not really out of my mind, somewhere you still existed. And I was happy with it.

Following a hiatus your blockbusters knocked the movie halls one after another. I have enjoyed most of your movies. But my very favourites have been Baazigar, Darr, Kabhi Haa Kabhi Naa, Yes Boss, Kuch Kuch Hota Hai… to name a few. But you looked absolutely stylish and gave a brilliant performance in Kal Ho Na Ho and you were beyond my expectations in Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. I don’t know how many times I’ve watched this movie and cried at the same time. But every time I saw the film it always felt like the first time.

But you know what? You had grown… grown very big, you became a Superstar… the King Khan… and no longer I could relate to you.

All of a sudden you were everywhere – from biscuits to talcum powder, hair oil to cars, computers to watches….pheew! And if that was not enough there you were as the Quiz Master; not once but twice! First luring middle class Indians to become millionaire by making them answer questions ranging from history, mythology, movies and the entire jing band one could possibly think of. The second time seemed a bit eerie at least to me; I didn’t enjoy the way people were made to admit that they were not smarter than a fifth grader! I am sure the four kids who were their to assist the contestants would mug up all the answers before the show!

You have a statue in Madam Tussuad, you also had a fragrance to your name.

And yes off course I almost forgot to mention about the business man inside you when your Kolkata Knight Riders made the maximum profit more than they did as a team in the field.

Wasn’t it funny to find you in the sports section of all the newspaper? I guess it was!

All this while I’ve remained loyal to you like a spouse until a few movies happened to me in the recent times and now I have second thoughts about you, sad but true!

I waited the entire 2008 for Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi, but at the same time I also loved Rock On, Ghajini, Luck By Chance & Dev D.

My loyalties have slowly shifted SRK… you’ve been reduced to a mere brand. I’ve seen so much of you and so often that it gets a bit stifling at times.

You know what; I guess its time for you to make way for the Rampals, Farhans & off course the new Devdas…. Ahem… DEV D… Abhay.

Take this with a pinch of salt Shah Rukh, but I guess with time I have moved on. I would still love to see you in My Name is Khan. I still love you as Abhimanyu in Fauji but at the same time I’d love to see the new boys too…

Regards,

Still an enthusiast!

All about parenting

2009-01-31T21:27:00.000+05:30

Neeyor will complete a year on 25th Feb. It seems just like yesterday when I first got my pregnancy confirmed. For everyone around us it was “good news” but to be brutally truthful my feelings were mixed and so was Nirav’s.
Yes! I was happy but I wasn’t elated. There were so many things in my priority list that my pregnancy almost overshadowed those. I was in the prime of my career and loved every minute of it. There were so many things in my itinerary. And now this report!
I thought to myself. I was a tad selfish to think like that and when Neeyor grows up and reads all this I know it’ll be hard for her to forgive me.
The first three months passed peacefully and I didn’t even feel there was something growing inside me. It’s only after the fifth month more or less that things started changing gradually. The slight swell in my tummy looked kinda cute you see! It’s perhaps the only time in my life that I ate like a horse; I indulged on those yummy chicken burgers from Beatrix, egg & cheese roll from Food Exx and masala dosas from Jb’s and never felt guilty even for a second about putting on weight! It was amazing to feel the kicks in my tummy. And as my pregnancy advanced at times my tummy felt like a water bed, I could see my baby move from one side to the other and it’s the most wonderful experience on earth I must say.
Neeyor came to us without many complications. I was in the hospital for only two days. Once home little did I realize that many things would change! It left me bewildered to see that a tiny little thing could bring the house down literally! She was so small, when I look at her new born pictures and the home videos I recollect every moment.
One thing I understood is giving birth is just the prelude. The actual story begins post birth!
The worse thing is perhaps the “advices” one gets from all and sundry. And poor me! I thought people gave advices only during pregnancy. Gosh! It almost made me mad.
The only time I got a no-nonsense advice is from my brother-in-law. We were in Bangalore and seated across the dining table. He told me “the moment you choose to be patient with your child in reality means you’ve already lost it!”
And on another occasion he said “give Neeyor the liberty to make mistakes. That’s how she’ll learn”.
Neeyor’ll be a year old soon and believe me folks these are the only two advises I’ve remembered.
And for the new parents or the soon to be parents reading this besides these two sturdy advices you’ve got to trust

- your gynecologist
- your baby’s pediatrician
- and of course your instincts.
You can never go wrong. – believe me …

Food for Thought!

2008-09-09T22:21:00.000+05:30

Without trying to sound like an elitist and nor being snooty I was just wondering why do we rape a language so easily and don't even feel ashamed about it?

Why does Pen becomes pain?
Chair becomes seear?
Function becomes phunkson?
Cell changes to sale?
Wood sounds ood or for that matter any word starting with w sounds like oo... Eg; wool transforms to ool?
Shoe is soo? Infact like the w any word that has sh is gets only the s... more egs; shirt- sart; Shillong- sillong; and so on...
Ch is not far behind - chinese or china is syna or synese; change is sanze; and well zero is jiro; sizzler is sijlar!!
Have u noticed rubber becoming robor or better lobor! Butter is battar! Virus is bhairas; fanta is phanta; pantaloons is panthaloon...
Shania Twain getting rechristened as Sanya Twins!
Sign language becoming Fingering!
Wait till you hear this- someone once said 'I am not drunkard. I am chemically off-balance'!

Friens got any more interesting & funny lines or words???

Rock On truely ROCKED!

2008-08-31T00:29:00.000+05:30

I wanted to blog this yesterday right after I reached home from the movie hall but the net was not accessible ... so here I am...

It was a friday I was eagerly looking forward to. Rock On hit the screens and I scanned the newspaper's movie section. Going to Cinema Max didn't seem much feasible, so I made up my mind to settle for Anuradha. Nirav called me in the afternoon to ask where to book the tickets. Anuradha I said and then without any puntuation I said ' I can wait till sunday 5.00 p.m show. But I knew I couldn't wait that long... So what the heck! I decided to watch the movie today itself ; the 8.00 p.m show. And alone... Somebody has got to babysit Neeyor ... Though I have a nanny for her... Yet its a big gamble to think both me & Nirav away for three hours away from her...

I was lucky enough to have Amit as a company ... So we were in Anuradha right on dot. Now about the movie...
Farhan's directorial debut Dil Chahta Hai became a cult film and his first film as an actor is no different. Its a movie which any music lover will thoroughly enjoy. Jhankar Beats was another musical but the genre of Rock On is different. The guys look so convincing as wannabe rock musicians ... When Farhan sings he truely looks like a vocalist of a band; Purab is comfortable with his drum sticks; don't have to doubt about Luke Kenny's ability on the keyboard & Arjun Rampal ... Man he looked more like a guitarist than an actor...
The movie is also about bonding & friendship ... The best part is the time when they actually get to perform in a big concert... The guys look mellowed... There is a maturity in their attitude and when they take the stage... Man... They truely ROCKED!!! ROCKED!!!

My Bucket List

2008-08-25T23:41:00.000+05:30

Everybody has wishes no matter how silly or serious - things they wanna do before kicking the bucket.

And these are mine; all at random off course!
Travel, travel & more travel. I am a traveller than a tourist. The places on my itenenary are - Laddakh; Tibet; Sri Lanka; Tahiti; South American coast ...
Scuba diving in Lakshadweep.
Spend some time in the Osho commune Pune.
Learn to play the guitar & drums.
Try LSD!
Adopt Buddhism.
Write a novel. Harold Robbins wrote his first novel at the age of 41. So I guess I still have time!
Watch Mark Knofpler performing live.

The weekend that was

2008-08-24T20:16:00.000+05:30

It was a quiet weekend; just the three of us, myself, Nirav & Boon. Sitting in our backyard guzzling beer our discussion wasn't really what you might call 'mind over matters'.

Whatever the topics we discussed it all zeroed down to a certain Mr. Ram Gopal Verma's latest horror flick Phoonk and all the hype, challenge doing the rounds.

Boon infact tried left right & centre to make me accompany him to the late night show today but to cut a long story short I consider myself to be an ordinary mortal posessing neither the guts nor daring myself to anything spooky.

Though I must mention here that I did a brave act and watched Mr. RGV's Bhoot and for many days I couldn't dare to be in the home alone, look into the mirror and even avoided any article or program where Ms Urmila Matondker was featured!

Talking about movies the one I'm eagerly waiting is the next friday release Rock On...

The music is not the tyoical Bollywood category or rather 'filmy'. It has the ensemble of four guys who are talented and intelligent.

Farhan Akhtar is so good behind the camera so I just wanna see his acting as well vocal skills. He trained his vocal chords with Shankar Mahadevan and has sung six out of the nine tracks... And man... He does have the looks too...

Purab Kohli learned drums and he is a fine VJ and did a good job in My brother Nikhil and the guy looks kinda cute with a good comic timing. And secretly I've always wished to learn playing drums!!!

Luke Kenny is apt with keyboards and his role in the movie Bombay Boys is worth mentioning. An ex VJ he looks so damn stylish with his long mane. Its rare to find guys with long mane so cool & well... Secsee! Oooooch!

And last but not the least is My all time favourite Arjun Rampal.... Gosh!!! What do I say about him... His looks, the hoarseness in his voice, the intensity in his eyes and well... Everything about Mr. Rampal is hot...hot...hot!!! Didn't he look desirable in Om Shanti Om with those grey strands? He is a guitarist in the movie and besides my secret wish of learning the drums I also desired to strum the guitar.

So next friday its again at the cinema hall after about seven months.

My Fashion Fundas

2008-08-18T13:24:00.000+05:30

my fav outfit - Cotton kurtas teamed with comfy churis & kolhapuries.
outfit for a formal dinner - maybe a trouser with well fitted shirts.

outfit for clubbing - am not too much into it now... but my preferred wear would be denims & tee.

outfit for formal occasion - a mekhala chadar can never go wrong.

I like to sleep in my - pyjamas & tee.

fav designer - none. but am a brand loyal when it comes to picking up a few stuff.

fav brand - Benetton, Levi's; Fab India & Bath&Body works.

fav colour - white & orange

fav fabrics - cotton & lycra.

have a fetish for - perfumes & shoes.

my wardrobe is incomplete without - a few good perfumes.

I look best in - orange & white.

fav accessory - perfumes.

the watch I wear - not too much into watches - infact never bought one, all gifted. right now its either my Timex sport or D.K.N.Y

in shoes the brand I prefer - Reebok for trainers, else am not too brand conscious but would love to own a pair each of Prada & Jimmy Choo.

fav perfume - chanel no.V
estee lauder - pleasures; lancome - miracle, dior - dune & mark&spencers - true red.

shampoo & conditioner - elvive- Loreal & rest of my toileteries are Bath&Body works.

best dressed men - among friends its Pranti & my cousin Abhimanyu ... celebs - brad pitt, john abraham

best dressed women - among friends... manashi has a good dressing sense, also dipli has elegance; both are not too OTT; celebs... julia roberts & priety zinta

someone who needs a crash course in dressing - boon for sure... in celebs its vidya balan & tanushree dutta!

Fashion mistake that cannot be forgiven - formal trousers & a pair of sneakers !!!

a few good men

2008-08-02T23:32:00.000+05:30

The title of this blog & its characters has got no resemblance to the Jack Nicholson & Tom Cruise starrerHollywood classic bearing the same title.

Four men takes up this entire blog space; about whom I carry memories fond & fun.

Your guess is wrong if you think its about my crushes, ex-boyfriends, my dad, uncles, brothers or my husband. These men are the indispensable lots in any Office. Well you guessed it wrong again if you thought its the Big Boss! These men are a kind of monarchs in their own right- the Office Peon!

My first job in Guwahati was in a local Graphics company. I took up the job because nothing better was on offer , was near my home, just opposite my gym & I would be engaged in something 'positive' rather than surfing the www day in & day out.

Barman was the guy who opened the Office right on dot At nine. I was always the first one to reach as all I had to do was cross the road. By the time the offuce would fill up, Barman & I exchanged small conversations for the very few minutes we got to ourselves. A tall, dark, lean fellow with cropped hair, Barman's cuppa tea was the most refreshing thing At ten in the morning. I noticed he was apt in management - be it time, people, relations, saving office stationaries & even packing parcels meticulously. I had learnt more than a thing or two from him.

He often smuggled a few bites of my lunch and later besides the Thank Yous he'd treat me to the lip smacking veggie chops available near our office.

I was the first person he confided in when his wedding got fixed. And he blushed when he said it! I disappointed him by quitting my job during the same time. Couldn't attend his wedding either as I had another job in hand & I had to join immediately.

Quite opposite to Barman was Rupan. He was shor, thin, with ioiled hair & as sly as a fox! And I must mention here that he too knew his management skills well. As a Peon of a tea company he did make good tea but then it also depended on his mood! If he had a bad hair day it reflected in the cuppa tea. So every time he entered the kitchen to brew some I would follow him, give a light pat on his shoulders and tell him to think about all the pleasant things while on the job!!!

His conveyance bills at times would sky rocket; and I would pass these as justified because many a times he has saved my **s when I reached office late and when boss called up & asked for me he covered up by saying i'm in the washroom or am filing papers or my extension is busy. Having said that he'd immediately buzz me on my cell & relay the SOS!!!
Boss knew about his exhorbitant vouchers & ased me once if he siphoned money. I didn't say yes nor did I lie. All I said was 'Maybe his salary wasn't enoughto support him & his family. In the next appraisal Rupan's salary doubled and he also enjoyed the benefits of a tea company employee on a permanent roll.

But his conveyance vouchers never receded!

And then I chanced upon to come across Mahanta. He was a very quite fellow. He did his job deligently & in his free time read newspapers thoroughly. When he didn't understood a word or a sentence he would come to me & clarify his doubts.

I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer and one day I asked him why he remaied so lost all the time. Mahanta said someone duped him promising a career in the Army and also robbed fifteen thousand. He had argued with his parents, pressurised his father to mortgage their land for the money and once he handed the money to the fellow, that was the last he saw or heard from him! I felt sorry for Mahanta. I decided to use my networking skills; got in touch with a Captain from the Army & Mahanta was soon absorbed in.

Finally its Arun. He was not a Peon but a warehouse in charge & he literally gave me a complex for he was well versed with all the lip & nail colours; compacts; foundations, eye shadows; shampoos etc! Being the oldest employee in our branch he had all the data stored in his brain like a comp!

Arun was of average height, heavily oiled hair, bulging eyes, dark complexioned ( he tried all the fairness creams & sunscreens which were either damaged or unsold in the warehouse!) & tobacco chewing.

Basically a nice guy he got into ugly brawls on his way home - well just a shot of extra whiskey more than he could handle. every morning his first half would be spent trying to recover the hangover & nursing the bruises and the second half swearing never to touch the booze again... only to go back to where it all started. Many a times his condition would be so bad that he'd call up office and inform about the expiry of his grandmother. God knows how many times he has killed her!! And when his grandmother actually hit the grave, Arun called up boss directly on his mobile and said, 'Sir, my grandmother expired and this time its for real!'

And well, Arun was not a tea guy but brewed some amazing hot, creamy & frothy coffee.

At the movies

2008-07-20T14:04:00.000+05:30

I am a big movie freak. I love watching good sensible movies. And when I say good & sensibile it might be utterly boring & nonsense for someone else.

Movies are best watched in a big-screen. I don't enjoy movies in the 21inch screen but then even this 21inch screen has come as a respite in my otherwise mundane days. To get a feel of that let me begin by saying this- everytime i've watched Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna i've wept inconsolably; even if it meant watching it for the nth time while travelling in a night bus from Itanagar to Guwahati!

As a kid I remember how my Ma would coax me to an afternoon nap so that I could tag along with my folks for the late night shows in Vandana. Vandana during those days was the only hall which screened English movies. I don't recall the movies; the only attraction was the Car ride, munching potato wafers & sipping Gold Spot!

Its in the blood I guess, we were a bunch of movie manics. One incident I recall as I write this. Aita and three of her friends decided to go to Anuradha for the 2.00pm show. Her three friends arrived much early. They gossiped, lunched & as they were about to leave, they all filled their mouth with a jolly good amount of Tamul. One of them out of excitement or in haste swallowed more than the required amount of zarda and almost immediately she collasped! The other three screamed their lungs out in chorus 'KAMLA!' Hearing this we rushed to the living room. KAMLA aita was still on the floor in a state of dizziness; Hemi, our maid fetched her salted water. As the old woman was regaining her sense, the other three were getting impatient. My aita could not hold it any longer and she finally let out her disappointment. 'Could'nt you find some other time to faint KAMLA? We're getting late for the movie.'
With KAMLA aita finally back on her feet the gang of four somehow managed to reach Anuradha in the nick of time only to discover that they left the tickers behind! The cinema hall manager came to their rescue and let them in!

Talking about my ownself; during college days sometimes the fun was more than the actual movie - we would not be less than a dozen going together! Imagine the chaos!!!
I am a die hard Shah Rukh Khan fan, since his Fauji & Circus days. I had already watched Baazigar twice with Indrani. Then on the last day of our exams we decided to go for the movie once more. The movie was being screened in Meghdoot and somehow we were not too keen to go that far. Partha coolly announced that the hall belonged to his uncle. At once our gang dispersed into groups of twos & threes. Some zoomed in bikes, some in rickshaw & the rest hopped in Arupa's Car. Once in the hall, Partha & Sam got the tickets. As we stepped inside and were about to ascend to the first floor, Partha like an Army General commanded 'Follow me' and so we did like ants in a single file, only to realise that we would not get the upper stall seats but the lower stall; but then its not that bad though from the rear! So much for Mr. S.R.K! By the time we reached our seats we were at our wits end! It was the second row! And before we could accuse Partha, he cut us short, 'All you SRK fans can see him from a close range'!
By interval my head was throbbing & eyes sored! Those wooden seats could make life most painful! I walked out of the hall feelig sorry to leave SRK midway!
It was months later that Partha confessed the hall did not belong to any of his uncle... Not even a distant one! He made that up so that we would give in to going to Meghdoot!

For the records we were more well versed with the movie schedule than our class routine!
Once Indrani & I decided to bunk the morning classes to go and watch Andaz Apna Apna. We didn't tell soul about it since our attendance were at an all time low and didn't want the others to go as astray as us. We spotted Saif, Partha & Navin already in the hall; a bit later Sam & Rishi arrived and much later Mita & Moumita made the gang complete! No one said a word but we had our usual doze of fun again!

As of now my movie going status is on hold. With a four & half month old baby its impossible to venture out to a hall.

My last movie in the big screen was Taare Zameen Par. I was 34 weeks pregnant and everytime the audio amplified I could feel my baby kicking & punching me hard.

This blog would be incomplete if I don't mention about another movie maniac - she lives, breathes, sleeps, eats movies! You name it and she's seen it! She's Pri. Don't take my word? Check her 2007 movie list in her blog www.priyankascribbles.blogspot.com
We have seen movies together whenever possible; we've seen movies back to back!
We went to see Dus Kahaniya the last time she was in Guwahati. We were so worried that we would not get tickets that I drove my almost brand new car(not even a month old) with the hand brakes on! I realised my folly only when I smelt something burning! But i've been lucky enough not to have done any damage to the car nor to Pri & nor to myself. I was then 28 weeks pregnant! When I called Nirav who was in Shillong attending the Scorpion concert and told him about my suicidal attempt he was devasted! He later said he had to start with fresh pegs again to reach that high!!!

So much for the sake of movies.

neeyor

2008-07-09T17:02:00.000+05:30

my baby!

2008-05-18T14:26:00.000+05:30

The Delhi Times - Part VI

2008-05-11T22:22:00.000+05:30

Ten years ago e-mail was just the "in thing". There were just a handful of us who possessed this incredible thing called "e-mail" and such was our plight that each time we sent an e-mail we actually informed the person to whom the mail was sent so that he/she would check it and send a reply back!
But then again there were a few of them who still continued to "snail mail"... and even now I feel the snail mails are better than the e-mails... at least we took the pain of thinking and putting our thoughts into paper and ... how can one ever forget the excitement to recieve a mail... wasn't that better than the forwarded mails that we recieve now?
But its not the postives vs negatives of e-mails and snail mails that I wanna write here... its something else and more interesting!
OK... So the year was 1998 and there were a few people (read friends, grand mom, cousin... not necessarily in this order) with whom I was still snail mailing.
Just before the Dusshera break I received a snail mail from Labroy... it was his usual stuff ... about his job... his confusion related to the girl he was seeing then and all that jazz... but what was important in this mail was he mentioned something that he wanted a few medicines for his sister which was not available in Guwahati and he wanted me to get those and also mentioned that he needed 20 strips each... the medicines were -spasmo proxyvan and rellipen.
So on the last day before I'd hop on the North East express I went in search for the medicines. i don't recall how many pharmacies I went but none of them wanted to hande those wretched pills - that too without a proper prescription... not knowing what to do I asked my local grocery store guy and he said he'd get it for me and boy he did!
I had this feeling that the medswould cost me a fortune because Labroy mentioned that these meds are not available in Guwahati, but to utter surpirze it costedme around 450/- bucks...
Once back home I called Labroy and asked him to collect his meds...
Labroy came the very same evening to my place and he gave me a 500/- Rs note but I didn't have the change to which he said I could keep that and he ran out like a excited school kid winning a gold medal...
I never had a clue to what was the reason behind his excitment...
After a ten day break I was back in the New Friends Colony room... one weekend we all met in South EX I for some tandoori chicken & beer...
I was sitting near Mac's table and was just browisng through his things when my eyes fell on these strips of tablets which resembled the ones I took for Labroy a fortnight back... I couldn't hold my curiosity and asked him straight what was thepurpose of those tablets....
Mac didn't mince words amd actually told me what were the purpose of those and how some people misused them...
I felt "used"

I am back & blogging again!

2008-05-11T22:18:00.000+05:30

Right now there are 10001 things running in my mind but I'll continue with my Delhi times series amd then get back to something else

The Final countdown begins

2008-02-13T10:07:00.000+05:30

So I had this terrible pain day before yesterday night, I got worried and called up my Doc and exactly told her how I felt, the intensity, irritation and everything else. She asked me to visit her the next morning and also advised that if needed I shold be admitted and get the baby out!
By morning the pain was gone and I was feeling better. Nevertheless I visted my Doc and she said that we still can wait for a week or so, so there I was shopping a few things - oil cloth, daipers, baby powder and yes a cute little "HOT PANT" for the baby!
Last whole week I was in a state of terrible depression and I thought I was eithjer over reacting...or maybe I didn't have much patience ...or better I was too selfish...but once I let the cat out of the bag I realized that I was not the "only one"! There are the others also who's been in this "guilt trip" for so long... and talking does help... at least we all knew what was pinching us and now we see things from a totally different side...
will blog about the "guilt trip" someother day...
as for now, I don't know when can I be online next...
maybe after the bay arrives...

My friends- REVISITED

2008-02-04T18:34:00.000+05:30

Once I blogged about my friends and here's the link:
http://inxanadu.bihu.in/entry.php?u=inxanadu&e_id=608

That was a blog written in April 2006.
It was nice to go through the entire list but there are a few add ons and changes that needs to be done...

(...on Top of Mind recall basis!)
Janti - JANTI AFTER ALL THESE YEARS IS STIIL THE SAME TO ME!
Pranti - AND SO IS PRANTI!
Amar - NOW AMAR REALIZES THAT IT IS HIGH TIME TO GET MARRIED SO IS TRYING HARD TO GETTHAT LIST OF GIRL FRIENDS SHORTENED BUT EVERY TIME HE DOES IT HE FAILS MISERABLY!
Raja - AND YES! HE GOT MARRIED JUST A FEW DAYS BACK AND IS ADJUSTING TO HIS NEW RESPONSIBILITIES…
Munna & Esther -BUT ESTHER HAS LEFT GUWAHATI AND IS IN DIMAPUR NOW, THEIR RELATIONSHIOP IS IN STATUS-QUO.
Rana - SOME PEOPLE NEVER CHANGE & RANA IS ONE FOR SURE!
Anupama - DON’T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO HER…SHE INVITED NONE OF US TO HER WEDDING ALSO!
Nivee - LOST TOUCH
Farida - SHE’S STILL SUCKS…ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO JANTI!
Mickey - HE’S BUSY WITH HIS MBA, WE ONLY ORKUT NOW!
Reema - SHE’S LOST HER MIND SOMEWHERE….& I DON’T BLAME HER…THERE ARE A PLENTY OF REASONS FOR IT…
DEEP IS AS GOOD AS DEAD… HE IS IN EVERYONE’S “HATE LIST” FOR GOSSIPING SO MUCH!
Meren - HER WORK HAS OVER TAKEN HER LIFE!
Biplob - IN HIBERNATION AGAIN!
Bhaity & Mits -PRIORITIES CHANGE
Arupa - I STILL DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS, DIDN’T FIND HER IN ORKUT OR FACEBOOK TOO
Pranab....HE IS AGING FAST AND IT REFLECTS IN HIS ATTITUDE
Manashi & Sam - THEY STILL ROCK!
Indrani - I AM STILL HUNG OVER FROM OUR LAST CONVERSATION!
Dimpi & Sanjeev -NOT MUCH IN TOUCH
Lobita - SHE’S CRAZIER NOW!
Priyanka - WE HAVE BONDED STRONGER THAN ALL THESE YEARS EVER
Suro - STILL THE SAME
Dhyan - HE ‘S A BUSY BEE NOW
Boon - HE SUCKS!

The Delhi Times - Part V

2008-02-04T18:24:00.000+05:30

I had a lousy boyfriend all for myself while I was in Delhi!
He was a slimy, disgusting and greasy character who supposedly was the guy I was seeing!
First thing first, looking back to those days I still curse, ridicule and poke my brains to find out what were the reasons which made me jump into this relationship in the very first place!
Looks?
Attitude?
Personality?
AWWWWWEEEE GAWWWWWWWWWWD!
He had none!
What did this guy have in him that attracted me?!
I mean he was such a terrible kisser too!!!
Anyways that’s beside the point.
More importantly this boyfriend of mine made my already hectic life all the more miserable.
He would suspect me with every male species, he would make me “gift” him things (read shirts, trousers…. All those “end of season” sale stuff), he would literally live on my expense!
All my friends directly or indirectly would advise me to snap ties with him and they said “sooner the better”… but the bastard and sucker that he was, I don’t understand how he read my mind. Every time I withdrew myself, he’d at his romantic best! He would do his best to woo me… make me feel special and wanted!
I remember once Silver & I were going back to Delhi in the North East Express and we both decided that we should make a trip to Goa to do away with the agonizing Delhi winters. As we planned the Goa trip I completely forgot about my lousy boyfriend and reality struck me only when we reached Delhi! I asked him straight, “Are you interested to go for a vacation in Goa? If you are then please get your tickets done!”
And the guy did pile on with us!
But then I truly believe in destiny….
Had it not been for him, I’d never meet Nirav with whom I fell in love left right and centre… got married and have no regrets!

The Delhi Times – Part IV

2008-01-30T14:15:00.000+05:30

Staying away from home kinda makes you homesick. The tendency to sulk and brood over the comforts of your home, craving for home cooked food, love, caring and attention accentuated every time I returned Delhi after a break and promised myself to cut down on my home coming trips so that I could do away with this lingering feeling of missing home so much. So strong was this feeling that once me and a couple of friends literally screamed in sheer delight when we spotted a Maruti 800 bearing Assam registration near India Gate!
The episode which made me scribble this in the first place is rather interesting.
It’s about a person called Tamuli. Tamuli is my Aita’s tenant; he still is a tenant as on date. He frequented Delhi quite often and Aita would send me cakes, biscuits, pickles, pithas and sometimes even vegetable tenga through him. During those days I had a pager and he would send me the weirdest of message to come and collect my things from him. He usually stayed in one particular hotel in Ashoka Road. I burst out laughing out loud and so did my class mate Pooja when my pager beeped and I read this “Please meet me at room no.102 after 6.00 p.m. – Tamuli”!
It was so amusing that the message was relayed to everyone in the class and we all had a good laugh. As I got ready to visit Tamuli, by the grace of God I chanced upon to meet Silver! I tagged Silver along with me, I told him that I had some urgent work and that if he’d accompany me I’d treat him to momos in Dilli Haat later in the evening. Silver readily agreed and we hopped in a DTC bus to meet Tamuli.
Tamuli was in the lobby and was walking up and down the aisle impatiently. As he saw me with Silver tagged along his smile slightly paled!
He said, “I thought you’d come alone”.
“Well, we had some work together and so thought of dropping here and meeting you, why?” I asked
He didn’t say anything and suggested that we either go to his room or sit in the restaurant. He asked “Are you people hungry?”
Before I could say anything Silver said “Oh! Yes! We are famished”.
So we went to the restaurant – Coconut Grove which incidentally was famous for its South Indian cuisine during those days. I don’t know whether it still holds true after these long years. We ordered chicken dosas and filter coffee. The dosas, I must tell you were one of the best I’ve ever tasted and it was big enough for three people actually!
Tamuli’s wallet was slimmer by a thousand rupees for three dosas and three filter coffees. Having filled our appetite as we walked out of the restaurant I asked Tamuli if Aita had sent anything.
He sheepishly looked at me and said “No”. He further added that he “wanted to meet me”; that I should take him “shopping” and also earnestly urged me not to tell a soul (read Aita & his WIFE) that he had met me in this visit of his. The reason was simple, my semester exams were approaching. Aita knew it and hence she didn’t send anything this time.
We decided to meet the next day since I didn’t have classes. I said I’d arrive by noon and would show him around.
The next day as promised I reached the hotel right on dot. I called him from the reception and within ten minutes or so he came. This time he was rather pleased to find that Silver was not tagging along with me. I took him to the British Council Library first where I had to return a few books and he was left speechless to see the library. Our very own District library was the only one he thought was a magnum opus!
Then I took him shopping. We first walked through Janpath, since he couldn’t make up his mind what to pick and what not to we headed to Sarojini market where he picked up a few odd stuff. And he kept suggesting me that I should buy something for myself too. I kept declining this offer. From Sarojini we went to Ansal Plaza and finally to Dilli Haat where he bought a few bed covers. He handed me one inspite of me repeated Nos. he said he wouldn’t have my No as an answer and we parted our ways, though I am hundred and one percent sure he would have loved to kept me latched on to him longer.
When I narrated this to my friends they were amused and at the same time they said I was an “Idiot” not to have shopped at his expense!
The story doesn’t ends here.
I kept recalling how he pleaded me not to tell anyone back home that he met me in his this visit. I didn’t understand what was wrong in telling Aita about it.
My exams were over and I decided to visit home before our summer projects started, very gleefully forgetting about the “homesick” part!
It was good to be home again. I t was good to be treated like a princess and all I did the whole day was eat, sleep and meet friends or go for long drives.
It was quite “routine” for Tamuli and his wife to have a cuppa tea with Aita at 7.30 p.m. I never understood this arrangement and I was never keen to be part of their conversations in any ways.
It was just this routine thing going on when I reached home after meeting some friends. Aita asked to me sit down with them and try the “kata nimkis” Tamuli’s wife had made. I tasted them and I must appreciate that she did a fairly nice job.
Suddenly the Devil in me came to the forefront. I asked Tamuli’s wife offhandedly “Bou, has the colour of the bed covers faded?”
She asked me “Which bed covers?”
“The ones Tamuli da bought the last time he was in Delhi, in fact he gave me one and when I washed the colours came out.” I also advised her to wash the bed spreads separately just in case!
To this date I’ll never forget how constipated and cramped Tamuli’s face looked, the erroneous hunch on his wife’s look and my poor Aita all bewildered!

And as for my own self I never thought I could get this bitchy!

Bou – in Assamese brother’s wife is referred as bou
Da: short form for dada – brother.Aita: Grandmother

The Delhi Times - Part III

2008-01-29T13:02:00.000+05:30

As a part of the course, internships/ apprenticeships were compulsory for us. My classes started at 2.00 p.m and it continued till 8.00 p.m, six days a week. We had two classes everyday – a set of two classes stretching for three grueling hours.

I thoroughly enjoyed a few classes – especially the ones in Creative taken by Mr Sujit Sanyal, we never looked in our watches no matter even if the class stretched beyond 8.00 p.m. But that was not the case always, our craving for bunking classes were at its highest when we had our Market Research or Statistics classes. And it was simple to do that. Our classrooms were on the ground floor and the windows had no iron grills or railings whatsoever. So what we did was when we had a stats class at the 5.00p.m-8.00p.m slot, we’d attend the first half i.e. from 5.00 p.m to 6.30 p.m – after which we had a ten minutes break to freshen up. In this ten minutes we did stash our bags out off the windows, go out and before anyone could get a hold of a thing or two we were as free as birds!

Our mornings were kept free for our apprenticeships.

I remember my first assignment. Someone form the Indian Express Group came over to brief us about the Company and explained us what we were required to do. The publication had some sets of tabloids (the Business publication division) which were not on the stands for sale but one had to subscribe those – example there was one called Express Computers, then there was one for Hotels, one on beverages so on and so forth. So our job was to get subscriptions for these tabloids.

http://www.expressbusinesspublications.com/

We were handed a kit with a bunch of papers – a track sheet to keep a list of people visited, daily sales record, daily traveling expenses and a pack of visiting cards with the Indian Express logo where we had to write our names ourselves in the “Represented by…………………….” space.

I was elated. My first job, so what it was just part time termed as “Apprenticeship”. When I called home and told my people they couldn’t believe their ears. Just two months in Delhi and I have a job with such a renowned publication…

So every morning I would take out the map and read the Connaught Place carefully and then make my visits – one day it was the Barakhamba Road, the next day it was Kasturba Gandhi Marg and the next was Janpath - it was here in Janpath that for a moment I lost my interest towards my job and the lines of shop – be it clothes, accessories and all the jing bang which lured me! And I decided that the next Sunday that was on its way would be spent exploring the beauty of Janpath – of the shops, of gorging on the road side veggie burgers and cold coffees and yes indulging on those aromatic essential oils and perfumes…

The Indian Express work continued till our classes ended for the Diwali break. I got ready to come home after five rigorous months of living on my own.

It was the last day before our Diwali break, when our Dean surprised us by handing us chocolate boxes when we all anticipated she would give us our 1^st term mark sheets as well as a dressing down! The icing on the cake was when we all received our pays, a cheque of HSBC bank – the sum was nominal – it was around 2800/- but its worth was more than the figures it reflected.

It was after all my first pay cheque!

The Delhi Times – Part II

2008-01-05T18:12:00.000+05:30

I remember Dipli (my cousin again who was doing her Literature studies & working for Katha) advising me not to join any sort of associations when in Delhi. I didn't ask her why she said that, she must have had her good reasons to caution me and at the same time even I am not the type of some who’d be interested to join any groups!
During those days the number of Kharkhowas was quite less compared to what it is now. I chanced to meet a few whacko’s who camped behind NDSE-I – they stayed on the fifth floor of a building – it was a big open space with two rooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. They were seven of them – two girls and five guys – a bunch of crazy people who lived life totally on the razor’s edge.
During those days cell phones were by no means a commodity as common as it is now. Only the rich and the affluent owned these gadgets. The seven wretched souls who lived on that terrace had a fine arrangement made – there was a PCO in the ground floor. The agreement was made that whenever a call was made to any of the seven fellas, the PCO guy should press a bell which rang on the fifth floor. And if that wasn’t enough, they had a chart stuck on the PCO with their names written and the number of times the PCO guy should ring the bell. For example if the bell was buzzed once it was for Mac, if it was buzzed twice it was for Partha, if buzzed thrice it was for Pomi…. so on… till it buzzed for seven times! It was funny to see them listen to the annoying buzz attentively and then run down hurriedly the entire flight of stairs to speak to whoever called…!
Many a weekends were spent partying on that terrace. There had been times when all of a sudden the gas cylinder would be exhausted in the middle of our partying sessions and the guys would burn stacks of newspapers to cook the food! They used the same set of bucket and immersion rod to heat water for a bath as well as boil pork! And I’ve seen Mac washing and cleaning cabbage with a scrubber!
Mac is one of those rare people I could go on and on writing – he has made us walk to Chanakya cinema to watch movies… he once took me & another girl called pinky for snacks and tea in Bengali sweets in NDSE-I and as we were through Mac asked both of us very seriously “Are you girls wearing high heel?”
“No” came the reply from both of us.
“Good” said Mac. He further added, “How fast can you girls run?”
We got an inkling of what he would suggest next, so both Pinki and me decided to pay the bill!

Nothing to lose- Part I

2008-01-05T16:56:00.000+05:30

For the last year and half I had a job to die for… a job my friends envied… being associated and working for one of the most renowned and oldest brand not only of India but of overseas as well, I thought nothing could go wrong, I mean nothing could be more perfect than this. But somehow the world does not stop revolving there.

People acknowledged me with a new found respect when I said I was with Hindustan Lever Ltd (then) and later it was Unilever. A company as big and mighty as Unilever surely knows how to keep employees happy and satisfied.

I’ve come across people who’d ask for my visiting card not because they wanted to know about my official details but because of the Company logo that glittered on the right hand top corner of the 3x2 card!

And when I finally said goodbye to my job, people in the immediate circle were left perplexed. The reason I shall come in due course, but at first let me tell you about the job I loved so much.

My job was that of a product trainer. Though I didn’t have targets every month, it was all the trainings and workshops we did that finally showed the rise in the excel sheets every month end in terms of products sold and revenue earned. So I was indirectly helping increase sales. The scenario is different now, there are four or five T.Os (training Officers) now, but when I was around I was solely responsible for the NESA region. This meant extensive and rigorous traveling.

Travelling is perhaps a major criterion why I accepted the job with a glee. I got to see many places… some places which otherwise would have never even occurred in my travel itinerary to have a “dekho”.

Traveling also meant facing all odds when not at all expected- be it unanticipated delays, road blockades, landslides, getting stuck in knee deep water, missing the last bus home, finding the hotel room not up to the standards.. you name it and I’ve faced it! But it’s these odds which have turned me more practical and logical for once, persuaded me to think of the box because no two situations were alike and I was on my own amidst a swarm of total strangers. A big lesson I learnt was having cash not necessarily comes in rescue. It’s the 3 Cs which has helped me overcome unforeseen situations – the 3 Cs rightly being COOL … CALM… & COLLECTED… and oh yes! I forgot to mention my portable MP3 who like a loyal spouse kept me company in my numerous sojourns and during that phase of my life when I felt I was actually living a life out of a suitcase!

And during these sojourns some faces I saw quite regularly, so much that except for their names I knew them by their faces and vice versa! The drivers & conductors of two Volvos – Dibrugarh & Itabnagar route. Infact once my mother-in-law was traveling to Khima and Nirav went to drop her at the Volvo point. The driver came up to Nirav and asked him “Aji baideo najai?” He further explained Nirav that usually he driven on the Guwahati-Itanagar route but henceforth his route has been changed to Guwahati-Kohima!

And how cold I forget the guy sitting behind the cash counter in Nahar restaurant where the Volvos stop for midnight meals? Then there are the two Marwari brothers of Jain Hotel in Jagiroad where you get the lip smacking poori-sabji – especially if you travel early morning and make it to Jain Hotel by 7.00 am. That was my regular halt if I traveled by Company cab to Tezpur or other places…. Here’s also this famous shop where you get the best of pedas in Bokakhat, thanks to Bimal ji… even if I go to Bokakhat after a gap of ten years I just need to make all to him and my wishes will be granted…(pedas off course!). And there were the lobby managers – Subansiri in Itanagar, Kristina in Imphal, Saramati in Dimapur… and a few bell boys! Every time I checked in these hotels their smiles would be same as welcoming a family member home!

My Resolutions

2008-01-04T19:56:00.000+05:30

I was browsing through Pri's blog www.priyankascribbles.blogspot.com which urged and forced me to think about my New Year Resolutions...
I haven't made a single one as yet...but nevertheless
Since my bundle of joy is arriving by Feb end or early March, I hope can can be a good mommy...
I need to shed off all those extra kilos that I have deposited...
A complete wardrobe revamp is much essential
Try to be more tolerant towards my so called jethai...
Get back to swimming
Get a hair makeover done at the newly opened Schwarzkorf salon
By year end i.e Dec 2008 maybe celebrate an extended New Years with Sanjeev & Michelle in Pondicherry

When ADVICE is not solicited

2008-01-04T18:16:00.000+05:30

There is this advertisement of Reliance Telecom where it is shown people being adviced left, right and centre… and the line which hold my fancy is when the voice over says “aur pregnant hone par advise hi advise”!

This is for all those women who have been pregnant at least once... and also for those who still have time for this major life changing experience.

I am close to my due date, just nine more weeks to go but advise nevertheless ceases...

Not all of them crazy and weired. Some were logical but its not the logical or the practical ones that I can think of or recall.. its the stupidest and the whackiest of them all that I am about to make a note of.

And yes! These come from a very good friend of mine...

I called her up one fine morning to give the "good news"... that was right after my reoprts were confirmed... she was happy to hear that... and why not... even she has a daughter who's about five years and at least now she could discuss her "motherly blues" with me as well...

Her mother did advise me about this & that whenever I chanced to speak to her and it was well appreciated.

Things I thought got out of poportion about ten days back when I had called her again just for a chit chat and one thing led to the other and it came to the inevitable - "the would be baby".

Like all first time expectant mothers I am spending sleepless nights dreaming how my baby would turn out to be... the things I will do... the joy the baby would bring...

And naturally I told my friend how regularly I was following "Baby Story, Runaway Moms, Amazing Baby Videos, Baby its You" on the Discovery Channel and how Dr. Benjamin Spock's Baby And Child Carebecame my Holy Bible... Granth...Gita... Koran...

Her "Ohh Nooooooo" was so loud and high pitched that I distanced myself away from the phone for a minute or so.

According to my friend -

"We are a race rooted with age old traditon... to watch programmes on TV dealing with expectant moms is a big mistake... I should not read books like Baby And Child Care because it won't be as per our customs..." If that wasn't enough... she continued in the same monotonous preacher like voice...

"... I should not decide on the name of the baby... be not prepared with a single piece of cloth also to wrap the new born... should not touch knife, switch on lights or fans, should not touch needles, should not cut my hair.... blah... blah... blah..."

She would have loved to continue her sermon but I felt so claustrophobic that I cut the conversation short - I didn't bid her "adieu" also. Just disconnected and even took out my battery and kept the phone out of my sight until my frustration subsided.

All her Advice didn't make any sense to me ... not even an iota of it...

If I am not supposed to touch a knife then how the hell would I make meals? If I am not supposed to swich on the lights, am I supposed to stay in the dark until Nirav reaches home? And imagine sitting in total darkness especially in these winters when the sun sets as early as four!

And possibly how could I harm myself or the would be baby if I watch those baby stories in Discovery?

Come On! I mean the baby was well planned... since both Nirav and I decided that we needed one we went ahead with baby palnning...

Unlike our mythological relics, the baby won't be bestowed upon me by the omnipresent one fine day when I am expecting the least! So why should I act so awestruck?

When Nirav reached home that evening he asked me why I had kept my phone in the switch of mode, I narrated him the entire day's event and also told him how much it left me mentally drained!

Nirav gave a slight naughty smile... looked at me and simply told me in one uncomplicated sentence,

"For some motherhood is all about joy and smiles and for the rest its as bad a disease, take your pick baby"

The year that was

2008-01-04T17:45:00.000+05:30

2007 came and 2007 went... in a jiffy off course... so many things happened in so little time.
I don't want to blog in depth about all the things that occured but some of the things that I remember are
... the beginning of a new year i.e 1st Jan 2007! whataway to start the year...!
... vacationing with Pri in Daman...
... meeting an old freind... met Biplab after a gap of almost 13 years...
... ade some very good friends too...Dipti & Plabita ...
... watched some good movies... Cheeni Kum... Om Shanti Om, Taare Zameen Par, Shootout At Lokhandwala... others I don't remember the names....
... swimming a kilometer a day during the summer season...
... Multiplexes opening in Guwahati came in as a breather...
... left my job for good... (the reasons I shall blog some other day...)
...and last but not the least... preparing myself to be a mom by the beginning of 2008!

& the biggest Miss of the year - Missing the German band in action performing in Shillong ...:((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

The Delhi Times - Part I

2007-11-03T18:00:00.000+05:30

Winters make me nostalgic and remind me of my days in Delhi. I loved the winters in Delhi. Chilling cold and good enough to make you forget the gory summers plus an opportunity to smartly adorn jackets, pullovers and oh yes! Gorging tandoori chicken with shots of “Rums-Up” (that is rum & Thums Up)!
There are numerous incidents, instances and experiences which makes those moments truly some of the “best days of my life”.
I landed in the New Dlehi Railway Station one hot June afternoon. Getting down from the Rajdhani Express, the heat seemed to rip me and my senses off for at least some time. The train was on time and I spotted Ron & Rupa Pehi waiting for me. This was however now my first time, it was the second.
The first visit to this capital city was four months earlier in the month of February to clear my psychometric tests, group discussions and one grueling round of interview to get myself admitted into Delhi School of Communication for my PG studies. It was a two day visit and I didn’t have much time in hand. All I did was visit PVR in Saket and watched Air Force 1 with another cousin of mine Viki and his friend, both of whom were doing their MBAs from MDI Gurgaon.
But things would be different this time. My stay would not be mere 2 days. It would be counted in years and I knew I had to make the best use of it.

The year was 1998. I had just completed my B.com and awaited results. But I had cleared my MAT even before appearing for my B.com finals for I didn’t wanted to waste time thinking hard what to do next. Advertising was my call and DSC was the institute I knew I could not go wrong in choosing.
I was feeling quite at home because I was camping with my cousins for a few days in GK Enclave1, until my Preeti my would be room mate (someone I’d known since my Gauhati Commerce College days, senior to me by two years with a big crush on Niki- another Guwahati Cousin) arrived from her vacation. Preeti was doing her MBA from EMPI Business School and stayed in a PG accommodation in the K block of South Extention II.
She called me once she was back i.e about two days after I had arrived. I hadn’t seen much of Delhi, but just passed by the Ring Road every morning when Ron & I went to drop Ron’s sister Paro to IP College I kept my own landmarks – just in case I found myself lost!
I moved into K2, NDSEII and lucky enough I was just a walking distance from my institute if I took the short cut through Masjid Moth. And the swanky shops and malls in the either side of the Ring Road – NDSEI & NDSE II would keep me quite occupied I pacified myself. Preeti and I shared a room with another girl called Juhi who was a Gujrati and an architect. But I hardly got to see her much as our timings were set in such a way that when she was in the room I was attending my classes and when I was indoors she was out on her assignments!
The next room had two more girls – their names I cannot recall now but they were good. And very soon this place became my home. We shared all our day’s experiences, we laughed, bullied each other, came to each other’s rescue when any one of the girls exceeded the “curfew” time!
There was one more lesson to be learnt though. I realized that spending time with friends’ everyday for a few hours and staying with the same friends together were quite different! I am not complaining.
My stay in K2 NDSEII lasted for about three months. I knew I had to move out when one fine day I found the unimaginable – there was a scratchy feeling in my head and to my utter horror i realized that the ugly little devils also known as “lice” had built their nest on my mane and when I took up this issue others seemed okay with it! For them it was something very mundane. And for you it might seem a bit over the top but I decided to pack my bags and move out!

In Retrospective

2007-11-02T18:46:00.000+05:30

All the newspapers and regional news channel had some space reserved to highlight the bits and pieces for the forthcoming one-day series between India-Pak to be held on 5th Nov here in Guwahati.
It was a pity to see and hear that cricket buffs queued from the previous night to grab a ticket in the Latasil playground! Snapshots showed police using the cane to control the “mob-like” crowd and much later the ones who failed to managed to procure a ticket “gheraoed” the premises of UCO Bank blaming the bank personnel for mismanagement. So much for a game!
I am not a cricket buff, not even a dot in me has any inkling towards the game.
But all these news and frenzy reminds me of the day I watched my first and last (as I am not much inclined towards it) cricket match in the Nehru Stadium.
Times were different, I was young and the only constant remaining that even then and as of now I don’t understand much about the game!
My father was a great sports buff – cricket, swimming, tennis or even fishing. He was just game for anything “sporty”.
I accompanied him on that fine morning.
The year was 1985 or 1986, and I must have been in class four or five. I don’t even remember with whom India was pitted against. Maybe Australia. I clearly remember the Indian team was there because I got a very clear sight of Ravi Shastri. He was the nation’s heart throb at that time. So even before the match begun I had my dose of cricket; seeing the “Indain Idol” as we walked down towards the stadium and the bus which carried the players had just passed us by.
We woke up early – early by my standards and by 5.30 we were ready to head towards the stadium, we decided to walk as taking the car wasn’t practical. And the stadium wasn’t that far also.
Unlike now when let alone mobile phones, you are not supposed to carry a bottle of water, Aita & Maa had packed lunch for us – boiled eggs neatly coated with a batter of “maida?” (am not sure now) and fried, sandwiches, cakes and in the other basket were oranges, apples, bananas and also two flasks – one with water and the other with tea!
As we sat down to watch and the match got going, my father took out his pocket transistor and this tiny little devise (the size was just same to the Oxford Pocket Dictionary) was constantly glued to his ears. According to him it was getting best of both the worlds!
I don’t know whether the home team won or lost but by the time we returned home I was dog tired. Aita & Maa had a disappointed look on their faces. The two ladies watched the entire match without understanding a word of it. They were disappointed because they could not locate us in the TV! My father before venturing out of the house had casually told both the ladies that they better keep watching TV “in case” they saw us in TV live!!!
Those were the good old days…
After cricket I need to discuss something which pleases my senses more.
Side by side the cricket hype and glory, there was this small paragraph in the bottom of the Telegraph – page 4 or 6. The head lines said Scorpions to rock Shillong!
Now this is interesting. It slated for December 12th. And I need to go! For me watching these guys performing is as good as a holy dip in the Ganges!

And this is how the cookie crumbles!

2007-10-26T18:46:00.000+05:30

Getting married is perhaps one of the most amazing experiences in one’s life. It’s the same I guess with everyone…
It’s not only about the final moments when both the bride and the groom finally tie themselves into holy matrimony, but the excitement starts much before that.
For me excitement began as soon as the date was fixed.
There were numerous things to be taken care of… choosing the right invitation cards, the content of the invitation, preparing the guest list, fixing the menu, the numerous shopping sprees – be it for jewellery, clothes, shoes to other knick knacks like hair pins!
Nirav accompanied in my shopping rendezvous, drove with me to invite people! Elders in both our families were quite shocked to see the would be husband & wife together shopping!
And as the D-Day was just twenty four hours away I was strictly told by borma & aita that I should not go out of the house nor dare meet Nirav! But I actually did meet him outside my gate and also had a dekho of all the clothes & jewelleries I’d receive next day in Juroon!
I was in cloud nine… and seventh heaven!
The actual wedding day was one big affair… and at the same time tiring. It was the only time when smiling seemed to be a pain! To smile at all the people – many of whom I didn’t recognize even after my jethais & borma leaving no stones unturned to introduce a certain “Baideo” or “Bou” as so and so wife … sister-in-law…or whatever the case was!
My wedding was a one day affair.
By the tie everything was over I was dog tired, my legs aching so was my neck and every muscle in my body! Removing the make-p never seemed such a ordeal as it was then! And taking off those hair pins! Whoof!
The next morning when I woke up nothing had changes, everything was same except for one simple thing, I applied sindoor for the first time in my life, my hands bit shaking!
Nirav as promised came over for lunch. Now this again is interesting. It is said that after marriage the bride & groom should not speak or meet until the bride goes to the groom’s place the next day. But in this case things were rather different. Both Nirav & me had decided on the menu so seriously that he was left quite disillusioned when he realized that on the D-day he couldn’t have a single morsel of food! So he asked borma to keep a bit of all the items and next day he was in my doorstep right on time for lunch! And during lunch time when I told all around that I actually had a peek-a-boo of all the stuff I received much before Joroon all hell broke loose! Everyone said that they had never seen such an impatient would be bride like me!
The next day was the dinner laid by Nirav’s family for all their guests and for me it was my last moments at my own home. And suddenly I felt I should stay back! I cried and cried and cried! But what was done could not be undone… I was to go to my new home… a home which will be mine and a feeling of nervousness and anxiety crept in….
During the dinner I met Nirav’s extended family and their circle of people but all the while my thoughts were a heady mix of excitement as well as fretfulness….
On one hand I’d be spending the rest of my life with someone I was so much madly in love with… on the other it was only him that I knew… but what about the rest of his people?
Shrugging my thoughts aside we got into the car and reached our home.
Like a typical Bollywood flick I anticipated to spend the first few moments of togetherness in sheer bliss but how wrong I was!
Even before I could let the feeling sink in that I’ll be spending the rest of my life in this home, sleeping with this man, cooking in this kitchen…. there I saw Nirav… in his usual faded tee and boxer shorts ready to hit the bed and snooze away to glory!

The Hate Page!

2007-10-17T19:32:00.000+05:30

Soon there'll be another blog along with this one - it will be the Hate Page! Sounds funny? Whatever the case be... just need to vent out some pressing thoughts which otherwise is driving me up the wall:))

still more passing thought...

2007-10-17T17:33:00.000+05:30

I was too engrossed in a word game cracking my all time high score, so much that my fingers are paining on account of clicking the mouse for the last two hours constantly! So I decided to sign off from the web site and do something else.
I chekced my yahoo just in case I had any mails to be replied, but no! Guess everyone is too busy with work piled up too sleeves unlike me who's taking a jolly good break.
So right now I am plugged to my ear phones with Shakira's Underneath your clothes...
That's a pretty old song.
Wish I could have downloaded Hey oh! by Red Hot Chilli Peppers - well listening to it now in you tube and have also saved it...and like me there are many out there who've loved this song immesely - as many asComments: 348 Favorited: 1446 Views: 352,969 times attcahed with the video...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9xCCjL1RZE
I read the lyrics too but it didn't make much sense.
I heard this song for the first time in world Space - channel Radio Voyager exactly a year ago when I got a Worldspace.
The funny thing about Radio is you can't repeat the songs you like and canoot possibly fast forward the music you don't have much ears for!
And the worse part - if you by chance fail to listen attentively to the RJ, you miss the opportunity of knowing what song is being played, who is the singer!
This is what happened to me with this song! Its after quite sometime and channel surfing - both voyager & top 40 that I got to know its Hey Oh!

Just a few passing thoughts...

2007-10-17T17:14:00.000+05:30

Only Moon dada understood my situation. People like him are rare to find. I didn’t have to say much, just a few words I uttered and he got the whole picture.
Wish everyone was as sensible as he is!
I need to relax a bit now and with the kind of work I was into there wasn’t any time at my disposal to do things I loved. My work included extensive traveling which kept me out of home on average 22-25 days a month. I always had two sets of toiletries, two sets of washed & ironed clothes ready and also two travel bags. No! I am not complaining. I enjoyed every moment of it. I got to see and visit all the places which otherwise would have never been in my travel plans.
But things have changed now. Another twenty weeks to go and there will be a newcomer in my life. So I need to prepare myself well for its arrival!

Begging Glorified

2007-10-11T18:35:00.000+05:30

I was aimlessly surfing the net, replying to some mails and wondering what to do next (my life is sailing quite smoothly without Orkut!) when four apparently disdainful gentlemen walked into the room. They didn’t look more worn out than ordinary mortals and their appearance clearly epitomized the fact that “hooligans” forever prevails everywhere.
The two of them who looked liked leaders took the chairs opposite Nirav and the “chamchas” sat behind.
“We are members of a newspaper, we are closely associated with Kanak Sen Deka & Mamoni Raisom Goswami. We are organizing a function soon and we seek donation”!
Their introduction was as snappish and snooty as was their attitude.
When Nirav said that a branch office had no power to sanction money and that if they provide with some written proposal he might as well send it to the Head Office and if the Head Office gives a nod then maybe he can consider something, the one on the heavier side quickly responded “This is the state of affairs in Axom, we don’t have the power even to donate money, why do you have to ask bosses sitting outside Axom, personally can’t you give us some donation, in cash or in Cheque?”
I was listening to all this gibberish and my temper was amplifying within. I kept my cool because I was not a part of their conversation; I had just come to Nirav’s office to check my mails.
They handed out a letter to them. The name of the organization is GRAMYA SISHU BIKASH PARISHAD (ASOM) & AROHAN ARTIST GUILD.
The letter head further had printed on its left hand side a logo and in contrasting red and green were the following lines: RAJJICK SISHU BIKASH SAMAROH, SRIMANTA SANKARDEV KALAKSHETRA (ASSAM) 27TH & 28TH OCTOBER, PRIZE DISTRIBUTION, FELICITATION & CULTURAL NITE, “PRAGJYOTI “COMPLEX, MACHKHOWA GHY (ASSAM).
Then was the subject line :”prayer for financial assistance/ advertisement to the Rajjick Sishu Bikash Samaroh (*th Annual meet)
By now you must have guessed what is the content of the letter.
Below were the mentioned rates for “financial assistance”: there is a wide range to choose from – from Rs.500/- to Rs.10,000/- you can take your pick.
My point here is how genuine are these Sansthas? Do they have records of all the money they receive being spent for the said purpose and not flaunted in booze and filling their own pockets? Can’t these Sansthas be more organized and seek financial assistance by their own means? And this is not the only group. There are hundreds of them representing one Sanstha or the other and making rounds of offices and seeking donations.
Or maybe this is perhaps the next course our fellow humans have taken resort to when pointing the gun, asking for ransom has become futile – welcome to the age of “Glorified Begging”

Bye Bye Orkut!

2007-10-07T13:25:00.000+05:30

Orkut is addictive. So much that my regular e-mails to friends took a back seat. Messengers - be it yahoo or others seemed insignificant. The first time I logged in Orkut I had no idea what was it and what to do and what not to do. I was sent an orkut invitation by a friend of mine Pooja, more specifically my sis-in-law. I did accept her invitaion, duly registered myself but didn't have the energy to search for friends because all my friends were within my reach - be in my school buddies or friends gathered in all the professional years ... they were maybe just a phone call and sms away.

That was a year and half ago.

And soon it happened that if you are not in orkut or if you are not orkutting then people looked at you as some kind of out dated and worn out pice of furniture. And I wasn't too happy to have this kind of image. So I too started logging in Orkut regularly and gradually I discovered the joys of finding familiar faces from possibly all corners of this universe!

Some of them were so long lost fellas that I was prompted to write testimonials on then at the very instant. And when a few old friends wrote testimonials on me I felt like a princess!

There are two sides to every coin, if there is darkness there has to be light and if there is God then there has to be a devil somewhere. And so were the hazards in Orkut.

Being a private person and not to comfortable letting my feelings out too soon to unknown people, I felt jumpy and jittery when I knew there were thousand and one souls visiting each others profile, reading scarps at random and gaping and gawking at personal albums. And it was more annoying to recieve scraps from people you don't even know!

But at the same time I did meet a few genuine people - one or two maybe with whom I shared my daily chronicle of activities and vice versa....

Then one fine day I decided to do the unimaginable...

I logged in, read the scraps posted in my scrap book, read the testimonials for the one last time .. & VOILA! I pressed the "Delete Profile" button!

Friends am sure will miss me ... but let me be out of Orkut for a while... miss my 700 odd scraps... and get addictied to something newer...

Rantings of a restless mind

2007-08-11T19:45:00.000+05:30

Off late there have been upheavals more than I would anticipate. Feelings have taken turns and twists like a tornado.
The last few days have been some of my lowest low, or I may be exaggerating!
Does it happen to just me or to everyone that suddenly you start disliking everyone, every passer by… everything becomes a monotony and you wish you were some place else?
And you also feel that everyone is conniving against you?

A few moments worth

2007-06-21T11:20:00.000+05:30

He said he was in the railway station looking form me.
“Railway Station! Out of all places”; you may wonder.
But I wasn’t surprised. Nor was I bowled over. So what if it was about midnight?
Our last meeting was in this same station where I bid him goodbye with a heavy heart, running nose, watery eyes and a hoarse voice! And it was one of those rare occasion when I realized I’d miss him much.
He had these feeling running in him much before than me… I was seeing him off in the airport and I could feel the salty tears trickling from his eyes on to my cheeks as we hugged each other firmly. This was during one of our first few meetings.
We bumped into each other during Bhai’s wedding. He was Bhai’s best man.
Even before meeting him I had heard enough of him and I had a picture of him in my mind made. It’s altogether a different story that the picture I had in my mind and the way he looked quite didn’t match. It’s a different story because his namesake is the one who’d come to my mind every time he would be in our discussion.
But one thing was sure right from day one. We knew that we would be in each other’s good books. We never tried to impress, we didn’t try to act smart or for that matter woo each other. Not because we ran out of ideas but because in the back of our minds we knew exactly well that all this would lead to nowhere.
They say there is a time, place and age for everything… and without a doubt I adhere to it. Because there has been times and instances when we were lost in our own world of dreams, a world we had made for ourselves only, where it was ghastly to be sad, terrifying to be lonely and horrible to feel old! And it made both of us happy. We would giggle like fifteen year olds in love for the first time, our heart pulsating more than it usually did, we lived for the moment and we lived like there would be no tomorrow.
We were fulfilling each other’s vacuum; we didn’t have to ask reasons. We spoke to each other round the clock, be it on the phone or in our silence. We were together day in and day out updating ourselves with our minutest of details. It’s again a different story that we were thousands of miles away.
For a change the world looked beautiful. Everything around us seemed bright, happy and cheerful. And this momentary chapter in our lives termed as “happiness” was unquestionably a treasure for a lifetime.
Was everything going too smooth? Are tales with twists and turns better than mundane affairs of life?
Everything seemed smooth for us because we listened to only those tunes we wanted, we saw only those images we wished and erased all the ground realities without much fuss. We were both running away from reality.

This is not a love story with a happy ending; it’s not something you’d term as “tragic comic” either. It’s about two sane people meeting in very ordinary circumstances and gradually realizing that they had somehow missed the bus!
He was hurt and lonely and so was she. But they had different reasons to be so alike.
A broken relation, friends drifting offshore and coming back to an empty home-his only solace was his music, he rightfully treated his music as his loyal wife!
Yet he knew he could not be with her…
While she looked happy and was the life everywhere she went, deep inside she was hollow and empty. Something had died. She stopped dreaming about the good things in life. Life seemed so perfect for her, yet there was something terribly wrong.
Her marriage…
And perhaps this brought them so close to each other.
It was just being there which mattered. Plain friendship, where one could be just his or her own self, without a mask, sans the veil.
But everyone got it so damn wrong. Everyone had an opinion about it, they felt
jaded and they tried reading between the lines when there wasn’t anything any and when things were as clear as crystal water. Or perhaps they felt left out!
… and that’s how it goes.. and it’s a few moments worth….

Three sides to a story: mine...his...& the Truth

2007-04-25T19:57:00.000+05:30

Part I – Mine

I was sore. I was miffed. And I had reasons to be. Somehow I managed to put up a spirited and nonchalant image. But deep within the wounds weren’t nursed back to health as yet. And I knew this would take time. I tried to do things that would deviate my thoughts. And I tried hard not to go back in time, and I must admit that I failed pathetically. Friends were concerned and worried; thought I had gone bizarre; they said I “kinda look lost”. I knew what they meant and that they meant well. But apparently this was one stubborn hangover that refused to get off my brains!

It was raining heavily. My bus was at 9.30 p.m. It would be my first visit to Lakhimpur. I had traveled extensively across Assam but Lakhimpur always was left out for one reason or the other. I cross checked my bag to see if I had taken my ticket, cell phone, dairy and other junks as I said one short, quick and final prayer to God before embarking on my journey. 24 – it was written quite bluntly on the ticket. I roughly calculated in my mind where would I be unerringly seated. I assumed that it would be on the either side of the sixth row. Only if this was some calculations dealing with rocket science!

As I swaggered through the narrow corridor of the bus, I saw a stranger on the aisle seat. I placed my bags and took my seat and once again breathed heavily. I have a mental block traveling in AC; it’s similar to a bee getting stuck on a windowpane. I said one more prayer under my breath, though this time it was an earnest request to the bus conductor not to repeat the same lousy and dreadful movies they show! The bus soon paced on the sopping wet streets and I was out of city limits soon.

I gave one passing look at my co-passenger. Not because I had any purpose, but because isn’t it natural, most likely and expected to look at least once who is the person sitting next to you and will be traveling with you for the next eight to ten hours?

One momentary look at my co-passenger and the moment froze ceaselessly for me. The hairdo, height, posture, the stare behind those glasses, the pair of glasses and even the Adam’s apple! He looked identical, like peas in a pod. It was impossible to tell apart whether I was sitting opposite to a complete stranger or was he the stubborn hangover that refused to get off my brains! I did not have the nerve to look at him again. Turning my face to the extreme left towards the window I gawked into the darkness and the rains. I felt throttled. I wanted to get off the bus into the open and soak in the rains and fill my senses with some fresh air.

The bruises not mended as yet were again brushed by a fresh coat of bittersweet feelings, which were delightfully agonizing. The temptation to call him was high. I wanted to let him know that though we were some thousands of miles apart, I was here traveling with some total stranger who seemed to be his mirror image.

But I had a promise to keep… to myself and to someone who mattered more. I dropped the idea of calling him and stuck on to my vow… but to console my battered spirit I again looked at this stranger for reasons I cannot comprehend and oddly I felt secure traveling with this stranger whose name, whereabouts and everything else was not known to me… nor did it matter… after all he was just a stranger … its just a different story that he resembled someone and brought back to me memories and an ache so enjoyable…

Part II - His

I reached the bus terminus much ahead; not because I am a kind of a person who knows the value of time but because I didn’t want to get myself caught in the annoying downpour or an antagonizing traffic snarl. I didn’t have much luggage with me, just a knapsack and a bottle of water. I was on the sixth row and the 23rd seat. A wait can be quite excruciating, especially when you are much ahead of time, like the way I am today. The moment the door opened I hopped inside the bus and made myself comfortably seated. I had no idea who would take the window seat, nor did I fancy the window seat. But secretly I wished I had someone interesting to travel with. Only five more minutes were left and yet there was no sign of my co-passenger. The ignition of the bus was switched on and the cool breeze of the AC enveloped the bus. People were filling inside and taking their seats. Yet the seat next to me still remained unoccupied. As I was giving up all my hopes – well honestly I didn’t have any preferences of a co-passenger. But clandestinely I wanted someone who’d mind his/her own business and not prod into my life or that matter shrug elbow to occupy the great divide or the handle that divided the seats!
I was absorbed in making guess-estimates about my co-passenger so much that I didn’t even realize when did she hop inside the bus. It was the courteous request to “excuse” myself to let her in her seat that I woke up to reality and tally if my intuition and reality match.
She did not look as if she was going home on holiday; she looked much more like a student doing her apprenticeship. Or maybe a backpacker. But did I really care? I wished and hoped she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d pester at the slightest pretext! Not that I mean anything impolite.

She was lost in her own world. She looked vulnerable. There was something invisibly discrete yet innocent about her. I wanted to initiate a conversation with her but for some strange reasons I stopped myself. She was too occupied in her thoughts. I could gather it from the look in her dreamy eyes. I however took note that she looked at me with a strange gaze and turned herself completely against me. I wondered if I looked so disdainful and terrible! I got busy with myself and let this woman be herself, do whatever she pleased, in my thoughts off course.

I dozed off for sometime and the screeching brakes woke me up. I looked to my left; she was in a slumber, her head tilted to one side and arms wrapped around herself. Was she cold? Why was I worried about her? Why was I inviting trouble for myself. I am not a person to muddle with a stranger’s life, but why was I concerned for this strange woman whose name I didn’t even know? I wanted to hear her voice, I also wished she’d speak to someone on the phone. But I didn’t see a cell phone with her. Maybe it was inside her bag, maybe it was switched off, maybe she was one of those rare breed who didn’t believe in mobile phones… why was this happening to me? Why did I have this urge to wrap her a shawl and keep her warm in my arms?

I reached my destination way ahead than hers. I wanted to bid her farewell. Wanted her to tell to take good care of herself. She was in a deep slumber and for the sake of sanity and civility I drooped my idea of being the super hero… after all she was just a co-passenger… its just a different story that she seemed so familiar… I felt a certain degree of bonding … and some reasons only Heaven would know.

Part III – The Truth

This is a work of pure fiction. It bears resemblance to nobody, living or otherwise. Any similarity with the characters is purely co-incidental!

rummaged thoughts

2007-04-20T20:37:00.000+05:30

I had heard so much about him that when on one fine wintry evening I chanced upon to meet him, I felt I was meeting someone I had always known. Except for one dismal factor. He didn’t quite exactly look the way I had thought. Only if that was something of a major concern, for if looks could kill, I’d be dead! (…. Whichever way you take it)
To get to the basics is difficult. I realized that we shared common interest and views, however we did not bombard each other with question that seems cliché. Like for instance, getting to one’s zodiac sign, favourite food, colour, hobbies etc all!

Un-sung Heros

2007-04-10T20:29:00.000+05:30

You see there is something known as "love as first sight". But do you really believe in? Am I asking you? You betcha! I am! And I ask myself the same thing. Do I really believe in love at first sight? .... uummmm! well I never did... it really didn't happen to me except for a few ocassions.... like Bips office... It was love at first sight... Its the best office I've ever seen... or maybe a haiku painting has attracted me ... but if you ask me about a person and me falling left right & centre .... well I guess not.

But is this love at first sight and having a crush is the same thing? Or maybe there is a thin line of difference between the two similar to the very thin line that differentiates between euphoria and insanity.

And if that be the case, as in the love at first sight & having a crush being and meaning quite similar I got this list of un-sung heros I've secrelty admired for so long ad yet I didn't have the courage to speak about it.!

I faked it !

2007-04-10T20:01:00.000+05:30

I had to!... didn't feel like goin to work...seeing the same old faces..listening to the same old complaints... attending the same old calls... smiling seepishly at the same old people .... makeing those same old reports.... & sipping the same old cuppacinno in Cafe Coffe day....

So I faked a fever.... kept both my phones off hook & spent some quality time with my flowers. ...

Its nice to see the orchids ... the cactus flower.... its also nice to watch the rain.... the new foliage... Its nice to be home sometimes.. to be doing things without an agenda... the afternoon siesta.... the lazing around... the late lunch & the much later shower....

Right now I wanna drive on the highway listening to Rahul Sharma or maybe Anouskha Shankar. My music sense has taken a 360deg trun! Someone who listened to Deff leppard & Scorpions all day & night..now into so much of fusion music....!

too much and too less!

2007-03-31T19:46:00.000+05:30

Nothing in life seems enough, we want more of everything. no matter if that means choking our throats!

Inside Out by Bryan Adams - Unplugged by Me!

2007-02-02T21:14:00.000+05:30

the lyrics:
THE BIGGEST LIE YOU EVER TOLD:
THE DEEPEST FEAR ’BOUT GROWIN OLD:
THE LONGEST NIGHT YOU EVER SPENT:
THE ANGRIEST LETTER YOU NEVER SENT:
THE BOY YOU SWORE YOU’D NEVER LEAVE:
THE ONE YOU KISSED ON NEW YEAR’S EVE:
THE SWEETEST DREAM YOU HAD LAST NIGHT:
YOUR DARKEST HOUR:
YOUR HARDEST FIGHT:
THE SADDEST SONG YOU EVER HEARD:
THE MOST YOU SAID WITH JUST ONE WORD:
THE LONELIEST PRAYER YOU EVER PRAYED:
THE TRUEST VOW YOU EVER MADE:
WHAT MAKE YOU LAUGH:
WHAT MAKE YOU CRY:
WHAT MAKES YOU MAD:
WHAT GETS YOU BY:
YOUR HIGHEST HIGH:
YOUR LOWEST LOW:

THESE ARE THE THINGS I WANNA KNOW…..

And so goes this song....

One of the best songs Bryan Adams has crooned. At least for me.

And this is just a small exercise to unplug me through his words, which are so simple yet meaningful.

Everyone can give it a try!

THE BIGGEST LIE YOU EVER TOLD:
I HATE POISON, BUT ACTUALLY SHE WAS MY STRENGTH.

THE DEEPEST FEAR ’BOUT GROWIN OLD:
THERE AIN’T NO FEAR ABOUT GETTING OLD… THE ONLY FEAR I HAVE – I DON’T WANNA BE MISS-UNDA-STOOD!

THE LONGEST NIGHT YOU EVER SPENT:
OUTSIDE THE ICU OF DOWN TOWN HOSP, SITTING ON THE STAIRS. A COLD JANUARY NIGHT. WAS COUNTING THE TICK…TICK…TICK..AS AITA WAS PUT UNDER VENTILLATION… WAS ABOUT QUARTER TO FOUR WHEN THE TICK…TICK..TICK STOPPED AND I KNEW I LOST HER FOREVER.

THE ANGRIEST LETTER YOU NEVER SENT:
I NEVER SENT THE LETTER TO NIKI. IT WANS’T A LETTER. WAS VENTING OUT MY ANGER, HATERED AND WRATH, BUT THE LUICKY BASTARD FOUND IT, COZ HIS HAS THIS NASTY AND ANNOYING HABIT OF DIGGING DEEPER UNDERGROUND.

THE BOY YOU SWORE YOU’D NEVER LEAVE:
G!

THE ONE YOU KISSED ON NEW YEAR’S EVE:
LAST NEW YEAR’S EVE WAS THE GUY ISIS LOVES!

THE SWEETEST DREAM YOU HAD LAST NIGHT:
WAS SO REAL… I WISH IT COULD LAST FOREVER!

YOUR DARKEST HOUR:
REALIZING ONE FINE DAY THAT I WAS SINGLED OUT.

YOUR HARDEST FIGHT:
KEEPING MY SANITY INTACT EVEN WHEN I WAS GOING THRU HELL.

THE SADDEST SONG YOU EVER HEARD:
INSIDE OUT – BRYAN ADAMS, THE ONE I AM EXPERIMENTING NOW.

THE MOST YOU SAID WITH JUST ONE WORD:
MOMO!

THE LONELIEST PRAYER YOU EVER PRAYED:
PRAYING FOR A LIFE THAT WAS SLIPPING OUT AND I COULD DO NOTHING MORE. PRAYING FOR ALL THE ONES I’VE LOVED AND EVENTUALLY LOST.

THE TRUEST VOW YOU EVER MADE:
WHEN I SAID “I DO”. ..but almost broken now

WHAT MAKE YOU LAUGH:
ALL THE SILLY GOOF-UPS I MAKE, GUTU’S ANTICS, INNOCENT BLUNDERS, TOM & JERRY!
WHAT MAKE YOU CRY:
HONESTY, TRUTH, LOVE, BONDING, ATTACHMENT, EMOTONS…. AND PEELING ONIONS TOO!

WHAT MAKES YOU MAD:
DEADLINES, WHEN I AM BROKE, REJECTIONS, DENIAL, FAILURE.

WHAT GETS YOU BY:
EASY COME EASY GO! A LIFE WITH NO FIXED ADDRESS AND DESTINATION … FOR HE WHO DOESN’T ENJOY THE JOURNEY CAN NEVER REACH HIS DESTINATION!

YOUR HIGHEST HIGH:
47000 FEET ABOVE THE SEA LEVEL CHANTING OM MANI PADME HUM! AND YEAH! BEING ONE OF THE GOLD MEDALIST IN MY COMPANY IN THREE MONTHS!!! PHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWW!!!!

YOUR LOWEST LOW:
WHEN I THOUGHT I’D BE DEAD IN MY SLEEP AND NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW! I WAS GOING THROUGH A MAJOR DEPRESSION. I WAS PARANOID AND WAS ABSOLUTELY LONELY. I WAS A LIVING DEAD. I FELT THERE WAS NO REASONS FOR MY EXISTENCE. BUT THAT’S A LONG GONE EPISODE NOW, THANKS TO MY MENTOR SANGITA GOSWAMI, DID I THANK HER ENOUGH? I GUESS I DID!

AIR BORNE!

2007-01-23T14:34:00.000+05:30

I am not brand loyal to any of the airlines! I travel as per my convenience. It’s not about getting the best deals. It’s more about getting a better bargain in respect to my time and travel itinerary. I have a Jet Privilege & also applied for Cosmos in Sahara but those plastics don’t keep me glued to one airline only.
But secretly I always prefer Jet and close to it comes Sahara. Jet is a safe bet especially in winters because rarely they are cancelled. Jet is again a personal choice because Maini is always in the airport and she makes sure I get the PRIORITY! Be it tele-check in, front row seats & all the extra care she gives! Maini…. Well my cousin. So whenever I fill up the feedback forms I write her name as the best airport ground staff!
The Guwahati-Kolkata circuit sees a sumptuous meal. And if you think it’s the best kinda food you had on flight wait till you fly the Kolkata-Mumbai sector or the Mumbai-Delhi sector. It’s excellent! The salamis… sausages… the puddings…. Hhhmmmm! The Delhi-Guwahati sector also sees a delightful meal.
Sahara is again a great airlines to fly. But the only problem it has or maybe I’ve been twice unlucky… flights have a greater chance of getting delayed and cancelled. But like Maini I got Meren in Sahara to provide me with the PRIORITIES!
Sahara has good looking guys on board! Well I mean to say all the flight attendants are so damn handsome… and well even the dames are a pretty lot.
Food wise Sahara is also good… but honestly I detest the vada-sambar they serve! It’s too messy to eat – especially if you get to sit in between the aisle and window!
I always prefer front aisle seats. But slowly I’ve shifted to the window seats now. It’s only in rare occasions – either once or twice that I’ve found myself sandwiched either between desperate housewives or horny bastards!
If you were to ask me about my best flights, I’ve always enjoyed the GAU-DEL or the GAU-MUMBAI sector. The flights are long. Its 2 ½ hours to Delhi and its 3 ½ - 4 hours to Mumbai (keep in mind the Kolkata stopover). When the flights are short you don’t get time to relax – to unwind – to stretch your toes – and to meditate on OM MANI PADME HUM in between 31000 – 47000 feet above the sea level! But a flight that’s more than 2 hours you get time to do your own Goddamn thing!
And did I tell you about the GAU-IMPHAL sector? I didn’t?! Well… you see you can take an Indigo…Deccan or Jet to Imphal. And taking the Jet is the wisest thing you can do. Deccan I don’t believe in and Indigo – well I shall be flying it for the first time today evening at 19.30 hrs when I take the flight to Kolkata. It’s the convenience of time and Indigo seemed the best bet for a change.
Alright! Now coming to the Imphal sector, the flight takes exactly 31 minutes. 31 leaves me bemused and perplexed! Couldn’t they accelerate the speed and make it 30 …? I always wonder! Now in a flight of 31 minutes, what could the “light snacks” be? Don’t let your imagination paint pictures of food from Taj… don’t go by the brochures … the advertisements…. or catalogues!
All you will be handed will be two pieces of biscuits (either Thin Arrowroot… Marie) and a slice of cake! The very sight of it makes my hunger come to a total halt! Whenever Utpal (my boss) and I travel I pass it to him! Coz I know that the food served is not enough for him, nor would a second helping would be served and nor do I feel like choking my throat with that slice of cake and sleepy looking biscuits!
On my last trip to Impahl, I remember this incident very vividly!
A middle-aged gentleman got up from his seat and was walking towards the washroom, when an airhostess came rushing after him. He was stopped mid way and asked where he was heading. He said he wanted to use the washroom and to the absolute amazement to all the people like me (who were watching the whole scene not because we are peeping toms but because in a 31 minutes flight there’s nothing much or nothing better you can do) the airhostess casually said “Sir could you hold on for a while, as we shall land in a couple of minutes”!!!!!!!!!
Hold on … what????? !

Love & longings in Delhi

2007-01-10T18:13:00.000+05:30

It all started when B called me one wintry evening just as I was returning back attending training. I was upset for I had to sacrifice one lazy Sunday on account of my work. All said and done B’s call came in like a breather in my otherwise unexciting journey. I was speaking to him after quite a while – we both term it as the “hibernation” period! He suggested that G & me join him in Delhi during the New Year’s. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know whether I would get leave from my work and at the same time if things would work out smooth. I needed to discuss this with G and so I did when I got home. G said there was still ample of time left to decide for the New Year’s and I had a tedious routine for the next fortnight. So the Delhi trip remained a distant dream for the time being.
And in the mean time my work took me to Mumbai, Kohima, Imphal… well that’s my job you see, I travel & travel & travel and I don’t complain!
So finally it was decided that we would go to Delhi and join B for the New Year’s bash. In the mean time T, M & C with family had already reached.
This is not a travelogue. Its plain simple me & my feelings for these will remain as some of the best days of my otherwise mundane existence!

DAY 1 – THE TRAVEL:
I reached Delhi on the 27th of Dec at about 20.00 hrs. All the flights were delayed due to fog and zero visibility. Taking a cab as we zoomed out of the I.G.I. Airport I was on the streets of Delhi after six long years. The first thing I noticed were the kiosks at the arrival lounge, which remained unchanged. How many cups of coffee I drank there when I went to the airport everyday in one of my market research projects. The roads looked the same until we reached a crossing. I knew we had to go straight to reach Dhaula Kuan and then take the right turn to touch the Ring Road. But to my utter amazement it was flyovers everywhere! I was completely at loss of words. And all this while I thought I knew Delhi so well! We were camping in South Ex-I, opposite Def Col. and the moment we got down form the taxi I realized that I would be staying exactly opposite to the C block of Def Col which was my home when I was in Delhi then! I wanted to take G for a walk and show him around but the time was not proper. And we had almost a week to explore Delhi my style & my way!
As we unpacked I started calling up friends and everyone were surprised to know that “finally I had come to Delhi”. There is a story to this. Some of the closest friends I have are all based in Delhi and after I came back to Guwahati (for good?) they frequently kept calling me to join them. My answer was always “Yes” but things never materialized and soon they too ceased from calling me to Delhi! It was about 23.00 hrs and we were about to have dinner when I got a call from B. He was downstairs and wanted us to come down for some chitchat! Well the chitchat was more than that and we took a long drive to Mehrauli, then towards Okhla and back to Def. Col. By the time I went upstairs my food was still in the plate untouched and freezing cold. But I had lost my appetite. There was some kind of sheer excitement running all over me; I knew sleep would not be easy; I wanted to wake up in the broad day light and visit places which means a lot to me.
I had two priorities to visit Delhi. First I wanted to watch all the latest releases in PVR Saket and second all my meals would be Mc Donalds only! And that’s the routine I tried to follow strictly!

DAY 2 – BACK TO SQUARE ONE:
After relishing on a Maharaja Mac, it was time I showed G the 232C in Def Col, then K2 in South Ex II and also narrate the thousands and one incident that flashed across my mind all at the same time. B & the rest of the two (T & MB) were to meet us at Ansal Plaza. By the time those three got ready I took G & C to Father Agnel’s School where I did my Mass Comm. I simply got nostalgic; it reminded me of guys like Pooja, Mansi, Raghu… GOD where must they be. We reached Ansal’s and did helluva window shoppin till the guys arrived.…. I bought Notes of a Madman by Osho and did some reading basking under the sun while G & C got groovy with Mary-Jane! It took B & gang almost 2 hours to reach Khel Gaon. But then when you hang around with guys like B you must take things as they come and also leave them upto their own devices! Every one was in the mood to shop and that’s what they did. We went to Monastery.
We called it a day around 1.00 a.m. Late? But then who cares! Do I stick to my tight regime when I am holidaying and freaking out? Guess naah!

DAY 3 – SOME MORE FUN IN JANPATH & PVR
C & his wife are total shop-o-holics! I mean I could have never done so much of shopping like the way they did. I took them to Janpath and also to Central Market in Lajpat Nagar. While they were shopping memoirs kept hitting me – of the days spent – of the times that would never come back – both good & utterly disgusting!
I called up Dhyan and we decided to meet in PVR. Dhyan! Well! A friend I’m so close to but it was the first time we would meet! Sounds weird? But that’s what I am! A Weirdo! Sipped coffee at Barissta and exchanged all the latest and hot gossips! B joined us … maybe an hour later. We got planning what to do next but G & C wanted to call it early since they planned to visit Taj Mahal the next day. However we went on a drive and no matter how early we decided to make, we were dropped at Def.Col at around 1.00 a.m.!

DAY 4 – SOME DOWNERS & SOUL SEARCHING ON MY OWN
The first downer of the day came from me! I was feeling too lazy to get out of my bed in that cold and visit Agra! I made up hundred and one excuses. And above all I had visited the Taj once and I guess that’s enough!
I went to the British Council – took a walk on the Kasturba Gandhi Marg and then came back to my fav hang out zone – PVR Saket. I strolled along the sidewalks and bought the Buddha Lounge CD. The music still reverberates on my mind. By the time I was half way through my movie I got a trifled bored? B was on his way back from office since there wasn’t much work on the second last day of the year. He came to PVR and I left Audi 1 when the suspense had just begun! B I knew would love the Buddha Lounge and do I have to say more? He was like a kid in an absolute frenzy in a toy shop! No wonder I call him b-lounge!
With B around its always “Destination Nowhere”. He kept driving and I kept listening to Budda and at times it was Rahul Sharma & Laddakh mesmerizing us. We headed towards Noida and he showed me around Centrestage Mall. Window shopping is actually not me. So we came out in the freezing cold after munching on sandwiches and sipping hot coffee in Barissta. There was no agenda set and we headed straight to B’s den. Minutes before we reached Malviya Nagar, M woke up from his slumber and T was glued to some cricket match on the ESPN and rock & roll playing on the 10000W stereo! What a cacophony! I freshened up, had some juice and we went on a mission called “ARRANGING FOR 31ST” which sadly didn’t live to our expectations. We hanged around in the Def.Col Market. It was for the first time that M and me were actually talking and strangely we ended up realizing the fact that we have the commonest of friends.
G & C had reached Delhi from Agra by the time we went to Saket! This time M wanted to collect some Rizla papers. And consciously or unconsciously I was terribly missing a female company! Pri! Gosh! She was in Goa and would reach Delhi only on 31st. That was just a couple of hours, yet it seemed too long a wait.
As we caught up with G & C, I realized not going to Agra was perhaps one of the smartest and best decisions I had made! Their horrific tales left the rest of us amused!

DAY 5 – THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR & THE MOST WEIRD TOO!
The first thing I did as I woke up was call Pri. Well I was more than happy now. For I had a girlfriend to tag along with! Pri & me had to do a lot of catching up. We kept blabbering non-stop sipping Port Wine & Goan Sausages she brought from Goa. There wasn’t anything planned as yet for 31st and we ultimately decided we’d head-bang in B’s den while Pri would keep shifting parties – not to disappoint her other pals too! It was for the first time in the last 5 days that I applied makeup and took some time getting dressed. I wanted to look good! But plans had changed. We were heading towards Greater Noida to catch some friends there. This sudden shift made Pri stayed back with her bunch of pals and we headed towards Greater Noida.
The drive was a crazy one! Things started getting crazier and confusing when we crossed the express highway. The crossings were identical & so were the landmarks! We kept on moving in circles over and over again and by the time we reached the main gates of the Apartments the clock struck midnight and suddenly the sky went ablaze with sky shots! Phone started buzzing and wishes poured in from left, right and centre! Yet the 6 of us had not even arrived at the party venue… didn’t even disembark from the car!
We caught up with two more couples there and the party was not what I was expecting. I was looking for some solid rocking time with ear deafening music and an unlimited supply of all the stuff that made the senses more sensible! But here we were – in a cozy ambience – with a feeling of home coming and celebrating the New Year in a very mature way – relishing on home made khana (after the regular Mc Donald’s)… sipping beer! Quite out of the ordinary yet so relaxing and comforting.
We headed to Delhi post dinner. We were warned over and over again to go slow and that’s what we did. Infact there was no other way what-so-ever! Thick layers of fog enveloped us. The visibility was almost zero and B who was driving used the sidewalks as his navigation tool. Sometimes when we hit a crossing, G & T would get down walk a few steps and then guide the car…. We got lost… we drove in circles and we avoided ghastly accidents too!
Things were fine inspite of the strangest of situation we found ourselves in. its just another story that M & T got into an unpleasant brawl which left all of us bitter for some time. And G who was driving now did the only practical thing that was available. Once we were inside Delhi, we headed straight to Malviya Nagar and dropped T & M. we drove off to Def.Col as C was getting edgy and cranky too!! (overdose? Or the lack of it?!)
I looked at my watch at it was exactly 5.30 a.m.

DAY 6 - THE LAST DAY & THE PARTY STILL CONTINUES….
B made up his mind that he would not go home nor would let me or G go too! We headed to New Delhi Railway Station for cuppa tea! All the adventures left us fresh with no hangovers! We kept sipping teas listening to Laddakh & Buddha. G was left irritated coz B & I have a crazy music sense!
For us the party had not ended. We smoked, had tea and had more of both till we got bored in N.D.R.S. We headed towards Khan Market and it was all closed. Boy! It was only 7.00 a.m! I was getting the “Down Trip” syndrome. My system wanted some more caffeine and the nearest was I.N.A. we lounged at the I.N.A. till about 9.30 and then we went to Malviya Nagar once again. B & G has a particular shop from where they buy fags! Crazy! But then we actually are!
Nowhere else to go we went to B’s office and man! It was love at first sight for me! With the office I mean!
Pri I guess got frantic and she called me. I was on my way back to Pri’s and also packed breakfast, when actually the time was around 2.00 p.m! We hogged on the spring rolls once we reached Pri’s zone. Both B & G left and we got blabbering again till my eyes as well as mouth wanted to shut down for a while. By 8.30 p.m G & B came back again! For them the party was still on! We went out for dinner.
I don’t know how many times I have repeated this line, but with B around its always “Destination Nowhere”. This is something I missed to tell Pri. She went mad! She said she wasn’t amused! Nor we were! But we are like this only and she didn’t quite get the joke! Not her fault! Its us! Its us!!! Its us & our non-stop trips full throttle!!
We were back again in New Delhi Railway Station! And I guess we were lucky enough that we managed to find a decent place to eat!

DAY 7 – ADIEU I SAID & FOR UNKNOWN REASONS I WEPT!
I woke up to find Pri making breakfast. She had already warmed water for me. She is a darling I have and I love her so. As I got ready she handed me the cash I needed. For a moment I felt she was mothering me! And on second thoughts I knew I was getting plain emotional! She asked me to stay back. Said we could share her space and live together happy!
I came back with a heavy heart. I still had to pack my bags. G was ready and in the mean time Moonmoon was quite upset that I didn’t meet her! Well! Honest! Moon & me made plans – cancelled – made more plans and finally it didn’t work out!
I had less than two hours at my disposal before I go on board Rajdhani.
B drove us (G & me) to the station.
How I wish I could have stayed a few more days! But every good thing must come to an end and so was this vacation. The drives were fun. M & G took the driver’s seat while B or better me navigated! And how many times I’ve done silly goof ups! Those “u-turns” & the “merry go rounds”! Ohmigosh! B has a fetish for these “GOL CHAKKARS” which we termed as Merry go rounds!
I was already receiving official calls and I felt a bit disoriented. I knew it would take sometime for me to get back to my routine – to my daily life – to my job and back to the ground realities.

2006-12-18T18:11:00.000+05:30

The count down for the new year's has already begun. Friends & folks have already chalked out elaborate plans about New Year's Eve. Ask me that and hopnestly I haven't really thought about it as yet. I just dont know what I want to - I am in a state of confusion - should I say Bye-Bye to a year which has been a heady coktail of adventure, mishaps, fun and rewards or do I welcome yet another set of another 12 months or 52 weeks or 365&1/4th day with a lousy hangover?!

I've been on the move since 8th of Dec.

One day I was conducting the leadership meet in the Brahmaputra Jungle Resort & a few hours later I find myself waking up in a 5 star hotel in Mumbai... and just when I got used to the late nights like a typical Mumbai-ite (not to forget the lingo too!).... I found myself in yet another palce where the town shuts down by four in the evening! I was in Kohima!!!

I took out my dairy and looked at the Indian Map and within twenty four hours I was from the west coast to the north easten side of the country! Wheras Mumbai I slept with the AC on ; Kohima was too cold to be bear!!!!

Even now the phone buzzed - "New Year Eve Plans Ki??"

Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooossssssssssssssssssssssssh!!!!!!!!

All I wanna do is sleep in my own damn room!

For God's sake don't ask me out on a date!

My itchy lettle feet!

2006-11-29T20:12:00.001+05:30

The best part about my job is that it lets me go to places, which I would have never even remotely thought about traveling otherwise. These travels have been either an hour’s drive from my domicile or at other times have been one unending and meandering expedition. Whatever be the roads like or whatever be season, one thing which has left me perplexed is that every place has it own beauty – it’s just another matter that people don’t observe or realize.

Travels have been ample. Some have been adventurous, some dull; and some left me gripping and mad. In three months I have traveled more than I had in the thirty years of my existence! They say business and pleasure do not mix. And sure it doesn’t. But then to look the other way round if I keep my work just to work and try to enjoy the rest of whatever little time I get; it sure becomes a travel so much like me – a freebee… a soul with itchy feet!

Kolkata was one classic example of a roller- coaster ride.
My boss called me one morning and asked me to get my bags packed and check with our travel agent for the earliest possible flight. Within the next twenty-four hours I was airborne. We touched down exactly forty-five minutes later and I was in Kolkata after nearly a decade. As I passed the streets everything had changed. The picture of Kolkata I had in my mind was certainly not the one I was seeing. Well off course for one factor that remains constant – the traffic snarls – that is perhaps one antagonizing phase of this colossal metro.

The driver took a long time to locate the 9 Shakespeare Sarani. As we waited in one long jam the driver popped out his head and asked a passer by in the local dialect where exactly was the 9 Shakespeare Sarani. The passer by looked at me and asked “Aap ko Brook House jana hai?” (Do you want to go to Brook House?) & I affirmed. He explained the driver something. The driver nodded his head and looked at me and said, “Madam, aap ne pehle kyun nahin kaha aapko Hindustan Lever office jana hia”?! (Madam why didn’t you tell me before that you want to go to the Hindustan Lever office?)

I felt like an idiot for reasons I may perhaps never comprehend! But nevertheless!

I reached 9 Shakespeare Sarani and almost immediately I was in the most posh, stylish & sleek office. This is the second office I’ve even seen so very chic. One was the Hughes office in New Delhi. I went there when I was doing my apprenticeship during my mass communication days – a story I will tell some other rainy day! The whole day went by and I didn’t even realize that it was time to call it a day. I was to stay in Camac Street; the hotel booked by the travel desk guys of the Kolkata office. It’s just a five-minute walk from the office. I reached the hotel and was dog-tired. My limbs I knew wanted to relax. I was not here to relax and I had only fifteen minutes in hand to freshen up and get going for the mega programme. Minto Park is again a ten-minute walk from my hotel and I trotted down the aisle rapidly. The awards function was a long one and I excused myself by nine. Ma’am (my boss) understood that I need to unwind and she let me go with a reminder that I should be back at 9 Shakespeare Sarani sharp ten the next day.

The next day I woke up and found a slight drizzle. I had not carried an umbrella. I waited in the lobby of my hotel for a few minutes but there was no respite and the minutes were passing by. I thought of taking a cab but that would not settle my state of affairs as the entire passage is a one-way route and the five-minute would become a nerve wrecking half an hour! So I decided to walk down no matter if I got faintly drenched.

By the time I walked out of office the drizzle was a downpour now. I wanted to rush back to the hotel but the aroma of the kebabs and rolls lured me to stop by in of the take away counters. I looked at the menu and ordered one double egg, chicken and cheese roll. This was sure indulgence but then this is again something I am up-to everyday.

I was soaking wet by the time I arrived the hotel. I asked the receptionist to get the bills ready, as I would be out of the place early next day. I waited for an hour or so but the bills did not arrive. I called up the reception and I was informed that I could settle it the next morning before leaving. No! I insisted that I settle my accounts now, as I don’t like last minute snags. But I was moderately pacified that I could settle the bills the next day.

I woke up much before the bellboy came (he had assured that he would give me a wake-up call at six thirty) to knock my door with the bed tea. I asked him to get my bills while in the mean time I freshened up and got ready. The bills came and I handed out my credit card.

The adventure began from here!

Well let me take back to that day again when my Boss called and asked me to fly to Kolkat. I was dead broke, my bank account showed meager 1500/- cash! I had no time to ponder about by finances. I had to travel. The tickets were no issue as they were booked on credit; I did a wise thing by calling the hotel where I was to stay and confirmed the fact that the hotel accepted credit card. So this made the 1500/- cash quite a big amount.

As I handed the credit card, the bellboy said that they would not accept credit card and I need to pay cash. My irritation, which otherwise remains passive amplified! I took the credit card and hurried towards the elevator. I wanted to speak to the manager. The elevator was out of order. I walked down three floors and as I reached the last ten stairs I was horrified to see the entire reception counter submerged! The water went knee deep and the people on the ground floor rooms had been shifted elsewhere. There was no electricity either. I had to report at the airport by 9.00 a.m and it was past seven thirty now. The nearest ATM was in Minto Park but there the water reached up till the waist. I was advised not to go. Time was running out and I decided to cancel my flight. That was the only thing I could do lest I miss my flight and burn some cash for not canceling the tickets too. But then how do I call! My mobile was not working; there was no electricity; the telephones went dead and I could not move out either. The bellboy I guess could feel the dilemma I was in and he handed me his cell phone. He said he would charge five bucks per call – outgoing or incoming and I agreed blindly to this deal! Besides the rickety cell phone with the most astounding ring tones I ever heard there was no other way I could communicate. I called home; boss (well in this order only) and airlines office to cancel my flight. And in the mean time the corridor on the first floor was turned into a reception counter. The printer was not squealing; rather every work was being done manually. Many got stranded. Some acted smart and checked out but they could never make it to the station or the airport and when they came back even the rooms were occupied! The plight of everyone was dismal. Good that I had not checked out. I knew I had the room to spend the night; yet I was tensed, as I didn’t know how to make my payments in cash! The dilemma still persisted. I went back to my room and I actually I had done a good thing by saving a bucket of water! I don’t know why I did! But I knew this is the only bucket of water I had to use for the next twenty-four hours! Someone knocked my door and it was just another bellboy who came to take order for lunch. Well! Since the kitchen was almost under water the lunch was the basic rice, dal and veggies. I tried to get some sleep but nothing could make my eyes or my mind rest. I went back to the first floor; peeped through the window. The level of water had not gone down nor the rains stopped. The Manager did not seem busy and we started chatting. In the due course I told the manger that in no way I could make cash payment until and unless I swam to the ATM counter at Minto Park! The manager devised one option and since there was nothing else I could do I agreed to his suggestion. He said that if I trusted him with my credit card he could swipe it elsewhere on his way back home and return it to me the next morning. Well! I know it’s not healthy to trust strangers you started speaking just ten minutes ago with your credit card but then what the heck!

I went back to my room, got my card and handed it to the Manager. It was late evening and almost everyone had gathered in the corridor and it seemed like we were one excursion team! Candles were lit everywhere. Every room was sanctioned two candles but I smuggled four. I cannot sleep when the room is pitch dark; I hoped the four would last me as long as I didn’t fell fast asleep. Dinner was no better. And I made it early to bed for I expected the worse for the next morning.

The next morning the knock on my door was my wake up call. I opened the door and saw one of the bellboys (who had given me his cell phone) with tea and my credit card and the settled bills. Suddenly everything seemed to fall in places. The rains hadn’t stopped, but the level of water had subsided. I knew I had to walk on the mud-spattered and grimy water hence taking a shower was out of question. Still in my shorts and tee and slippers I swaggered towards the main road and I negotiated with a cab driver to go to the airport. The driver asked me what time the flight was and I replied I didn’t have a ticket! I picked my bags and hopped in the cab. It took me around forty-five minutes to reach the airport. I checked the entire airline counters and booked the earliest flight back to Guwahati. As I handed my credit card I prayed and hope in the back of my mind nothing would go wrong and boy! It didn’t! I walked in though the security, checked in and as I looked at my watch I still had an hour at my disposal. I ordered for a cup of coffee and as I was waiting I for the coffee to arrive I realized that I was still tee/shorts & sandals clad! My baggage had already been checked; marked and sealed and there was nothing I could do but board the flight without trying to look too conscious!

As I took my seat and looked up The Telegraph it read that Kolkata witnessed heaviest downpour since 1971! I didn’t really want to read that news. I was trapped for twenty-four hours in hotel with my life thrown out of gear.

As the airplane ascended I reclined and closed my eyes and got calculating about my next training session scheduled to be in Nagaland within the next two days….

The Great Indian Snack!

2006-08-29T14:01:00.000+05:30

I am not a foodie at all. Rather I am not a good eater. There are many things I don’t eat or I don’t like than the ones I love to gorge! I don’t live to eat but I eat to live.
The morning rush leaves me with little time to prepare breakfast. The practical readers may suggest that I wake up an hour or half early to prepare breakfast, but waking up early is the toughest in my agenda. I don’t even remember waking up early during the most painstaking examinations (read – science & math & oxomiya!...thanx heavens I didn’t flunk…well that’s altogether a different story & one more reason to blog!)
So preparing the dinner is upto me. I decide what should be eaten for dinner. But almost 90% of the times I am between the devil & the deep sea. I end up asking Nirav the menu & that’s how it goes.
The usual gourmet leaves me disillusioned. But talk about JUNK food!!! And there where my loyalties are!
I can never get tired of the sweet & sour, hot & tangy chutneys served with the samosas! The hotter the better. Infact I’ve been such a brand loyal to this great Indian snack that I’ve got some specific outlets from where I have it. I’ve experimented enough with it & now I know what my taste-buds desires & what are my gastronome delights!
Keeping in mind all the ill effects the samosa has on one’s health, it could never make me pay heed to those! How much Aita would tell me to opt for something more “healthier” , Be it the ones from Guwahati Dairy, or from Dilli Mistan or from Bengali Sweets & Nathu’s…. well, they are just finger licking yummy! The very smell of the deep fried samosa would make me pine for just one bite!
There has been times and instances when this very great Indian snack has left me petrified. It’s because of this very samosa that I’ve had two assaults of food poisoning! The first time I was down ill, I promised myself that I’d never touch the “Wretched” snack again! How angry I had been. But with the antibiotics doing the magic and me getting back in shape, there I was in one of my favourite outlet ready to toss down yet one more! As I was about to gulp I saw Boon standing at the Pan shop and looking at me snidely. He couldn’t imagine even in wildest of his nightmares that after such a ghastly experience I’d get back to where I left!
The second attack was no better! The routine followed – only the time was different. And this time when Boon got the news that I was bed ridden he didn’t even wish me “A QUICK RECOVERY….!!!”
Well that’s been a pretty long time now. Six months, maybe. I don’t like to recall dates that are not pleasant.
But though my devotion still remains with the samosa I’ve not had one for a long time now. I have not done it consciously. Or maybe it’s kinda Passé now. I am not sure about it. Let me try one. Let me see if I get the same feelings and also let me be sure that I am not attacked by another bout of food poisoning again!
But all said & done my loyalties ceases to dither & wither!

The Deepest Fear That's Getting Old!

2006-08-29T13:37:00.000+05:30

Finally I realized what it takes to be in an MNC!

Well I was just a usual professional in a Tea Company. I knew my job so well that it was kinda monotony. The adrenaline failed to give me the rush and I guess I was getting to comfy with my space and my ass being glued to my seat!

One thing led to other and one fine day I find myself being called for an interview in one of the world's biggest MNCs! Whhhoaaaa! Sounds too good to be true right? But then it took three rounds of interviews - both personal and telephonic to get me thru! That was quite an ordeal... not that I depised it... but it surely was nerve wrecking!

The biggest fear - stage fright! I dread the very thought of standing up and speaking to an audience.... but the fright waned bit by bit when I was teaching business communication & English in an MBA school .... then came the time when I was asked by the Dean & also the Directors of the Institute to anchor their seminars and orientation programmes...

Somehow I completely forgot about my deepest fear "STAGE FRIGHT"!

And now when I will be working day in and day out in this new company I shall be doing rounds and rounds of talking to an audience and making presentations! And the FEAR is not about giving presentations in front of a large audience here.. but its something else - I cannot let UB down! UB- don't know how he "hand picked" me to join his team and work.. so I cannot let UB down! And to make sure I don't let him down I will give all that it takes to be deligent in my new job.

So what goes around comes around! This might not make sense here but then again - I shall be doing something which would make me have complete blackouts as a kid!

And the best part is I shall get to travel a lot... travelling - now that's like a paid holiday throughout my working hours!.... and well the icing on the cake - well I'll get to use some of the most reknown products for my hair... skin.... and also fragrances!

Now that things are stream-lining ... I guess I should get back to my blogging again!

Not a nightmare

2006-08-07T14:18:00.000+05:30

Some dreams are so real it seems scary. Scary because I relate to it.
I see dead people in my dreams. I see them always. Sometimes I am with them and sometimes I am watching them from a distance.
The scariest of them was when I came home the day Poison passed away.
Tales of Poison is again a different story. But for now let me begin where Poison’s life ends.
Poison’s death was unexpected and I was utterly shocked. The whole world froze. My reaction was nothing. I could not express anything. I went to pay my last respects. I was accompanied with a few friends.
Suddenly I was tired. I felt alone all of a sudden. The whole world seemed hostile. I felt there was no one left to call “family. Nevertheless! What’s done cannot be undone.
I stayed there till the body was carried away for the last rites and cremation. I don’t recall who dropped me home or whether I drove home myself. But I found myself in the confines of my room. The next moment I was sound asleep.
It was then something bizarre happened. An experience my feelings says is close to the para-normal.
I was asleep but I felt something dragging me forcefully, it was for real. When I tried to free myself from its clutches I felt as if a very heavy load was placed on me. It was so heavy I could not breathe. I felt chocked and I woke up I was covered with sweat, though it was the month of October and it was marginally cold around that time of the year. I felt so gagged that I couldn’t even speak. I tried to speak but seemed I had lost my voice somewhere.
The cell phone was near me and I gave a missed call to Nirav who was upstairs with Janti & Pranti (our bedroom is more of a cellar).
After giving three missed calls Nirav came down. He was surprised to see me.The colors drained from my face and I was in a state of shock.
At first the guys thought I was upto a prank and hence was giving missed calls. But repeated missed calls for three times told them things were otherwise.
Nirav helped me walk upstairs and when I narrated the incident the guys took it lightly. They said it was because of the emotional turmoil I was going through.

I don’t know.

I don’t have an answer to this. It’s only an assumption and surely does not leave me with a good feeling.

The worst weekend that I ever had!

2006-08-07T10:42:00.000+05:30

Work wasn’t too hectic, so surfed the whole day either reading blogs or looking for Egyptian mythologies. Having spent my time leisurely in office which I hardly get to do, we (me & two of my juniors) went window shopping to this newly opened mall. There were road shows, print ads., hoarding – all that and much more to make us decide to go and have a dekho what the mall had to offer.

Except for the cool air conditioned comfort there wasn’t anything else! The hand bags on the shelves were a replica of what I’d get in the road side stalls of Fancy Bazaar. The collections of shoes were limited. Then came the garments section – nothing in particular that would make me shell out a few bucks out of my pockets. Seemed the entire Sarojini collection was being shifted to this mall!

Having browsed thorough we came out of the mall and I treated the girls choco-vanilla ice creams from the Kwality Ice Cream Vendor.

We crossed Barista and I instantly knew one of these days this outlet must be tried… and then compare with its rival Café Coffee Day. Believe me folks! Café Coffee Day has never been a good experience with me! Either they don’t have the edibles I order or they serve forty five minutes late or simply they are running short in the supply of milk or better the music is so damn loud that you cannot have a peaceful time.

I reached home by 6.30 p.m. and got ready for my swimming session. Swimming for me is meditation. The one hour I am in the water I forget everything. I detach myself form the worries, tensions, apprehensions, anxieties. I just have one thing in mind – to reach my target – I set targets everyday – Saturday was set for one kilometer and I swam 842 mts! Not bad though I knew 158 mts remained!

Nothing was planned for the evening. Nirav’s friend Jyoti had come down to Guwahati for some business meeting. So we decided to visit him. We reached his hotel and then we decided to go to a restaurant for some drinks and dinner.

Everything seemed picture perfect till then.

The problem cropped when I saw this other guy piling on with us three i.e. the colleague of Jyoti’s.

We went to a restaurant nearby and decided to sit in the open, A.C’s can get suffocating especially with people smoking and a poor ventilation. The guys ordered their drinks. I didn’t want any, but thought of sipping a chilled Fosters (… guess I had swam good today…so why not indulge?)….

The pile – on tried had impress to us. He began by this by boasting that he & Debojit (excuse me……. Debojit…… who?) were bum chums. He even called up someone – and then informed us that Debojit was currently in the U.S. of A doing shows.

As we three (Nirav, Jyoti & me) were immersed in our own talks, though the corner of my eye I could see this bastard speaking in a very low tone to someone over phone. I know eaves dropping is real baaaaaaaaaaaaaad! But then there is something called womanly instincts & shamelessly I was paying a closer attention to what he was narrating over phone. And I was horrified when I realized that my sixth sense was so damn right!

That motherfucker was discussing about me…..“………….. she is wearing a sleeveless top & jeans………………….. works in a tea company……………. Beer… beer…” and then looks at me and asks me loudly “Aapka beer finish ho gaya?”……….. “smoking……………”
Well... I knew I had to put the brakes and I did it so.
I cut him short by asking him “Excuse me… Hello!.. are you discussing about me?”… the guy was silent for a moment and denied.
I didn’t buy that as an answer and asked him “how does it bother him if I smoke … I drink… I wear jeans? If my husband is comfortable with me then who the hell is he? If he had a problem with my habits he should have told me right in the very beginning? And how would he fee if someone discussed about his wife like this?”… By that time this bastard was absolutely red on his face and he told to whomever he was talking that he will call back later.
He apologized me said “ I am sorry BABHI”…
Babhi? Balls to guys like him!
For such chauvinist a woman is just a mere object to satisfy their own thirsts.
Nirav & Jyoti at first couldn’t decipher what was going on and when I set the accounts straight, this guy was so embarrassed that he didn’t know how to face Nirav!

Well I don’t know how many guys can I shut up but why do guys have a problem?

Why do they have such double standards?

Gosh!

The Shillong Times!

2006-07-29T15:19:00.001+05:30

Shillong has been a great escape always. I’ve regarded Shillong as my second home. Every summer right after the half yearly exams we would pack our bags (…Maa made sure I carry all my holiday home work too) and be away from the maddening heat of Guwahati.

Shillong Aita & Koka were not like my Aita & Koka at home. They were poles apart. The Shillong grand parents made sure I was doubly spoilt and never rebuked me nor encouraged Maa to do that!

Aita was a cuddly little thing! I loved to huddle & burrow close to her. She was an avid paan eater and the smell of the zarda is something that still reminds me of her.

The house in Shillong was quite similar to my house in Guwahati – the basics were similar – the big verandahs, the sitting area near the kitchen which was better to lounge around.

And the best thing about Shillong was perhaps walking on the wooden floor. How much I loved the reverberating sound that it made!

Next to it was the soft quilts. There could be no other place on earth better than Shillong to sleep…. that’s very me & my judgment.

Aita’s house was very nearby the Ward’s Lake. So taking long walks in the Lake, admiring the flowers in full bloom, feeding the fishes… (I still remember there was a big, fat, well sized fish and it was orange in colour.), relishing those noga tengas sprinkled with kola nimak was but natural!

Occasionally my mama would also take me on treks – not really treks but at that age it surely meant a hike to walk down to Golf Links.

And then there were the numerous rounds we did in Police Bazaar. Aita had some particulars shops – Radharani, Floury’s… there was this other old shop quite close to Radharani – I don’t recall the name now – Maa & me despised the very thought of going to that shop. But seemed Aita was quite friendly with everyone in that shop, so she would get all her stuff from that particular shop.

Besides these, Aita had one more favourite hang out zone. And it was the fish & veggie bazaar in the Jail Road! Now there again! Fish! I tagged along with her to this bazaar only because I loved watching those kongs cleaning & cutting the fish with such proficiency and fineness.

Well we also had rounds of social calls to make. Many a times I would invent a “me & my headache” and stay back chatting with Koka. Koka loved steamed corns with a little bit butter and he would prepare that soon after Aita & Maa would leave. We would chat for hours – Koka would tell me stories from books and his personal life and whatever he said was so interesting that I’ve treasured them so long. Or if Mama would be around we’d play ludo and how shamelessly Mama cheated!

Like Guwahati Aiat, even Shillong Aita had a whole bunch of Aitas who’d come for a game or two of cards – RUMMY?? Maa would be out with her friends at times and it was during those moments I’d take out my bald headed dolls.

But the same Shillong trips were different whenever Dity accompanied us. Many a times it has happened that he would take us to the bus terminus and then instead of dropping us there he would drive all the way to Shillong. But when he would be stuck up in Guwahati, he made it a point to join us later. And it would be always a surprise for me. I would be kept under dark about his plans!

With Dity around, I’d find myself in the billiards room of the Shillong club, or munching those lovely club sandwiches at the Golf club or maybe simply run around in the kitchen of Pine Wood!

And there would be the rides to the Elephant Falls, Shillong Peak or back track to Barapani for leisurely picnics.

Didn’t I love to gorge on those mutton singaras from EeeCee? And jalebis & chole bhature from Delhi Mistan. And perhaps buying shoes from Shillong has remained one constant in my life. The designs and shapes and the different heels can leave any shoe crazed mortal like me quite baffled!

If nothing else was there to keep me busy, there was Jimmy & Lama – the two dashing dare devils! Their loyalty could never be questioned as were their laziness! They looked massive and fearless – but it was just their looks. Besides that there wasn’t anything to be afraid of the duo and they made great pals too. They were the two hounds – the local breed of course!

The story begins from here…

2006-07-28T12:48:00.000+05:30

I wasn’t able to comprehend why people were grief stricken and mourning. Koka rested in his bed, he was motionless and everyone paid their tributes by offering him flowers. Seeing this, I too ran outside and plucked a few flowers. I squirmed through the horde of people who made it quite impossible for me to go near the bed where Koka was resting with his eyes shut. I did manage to approach near Koka and like everyone else I too put the flowers on his body. Seeing this Aita went into hysteria and wept inconsolably. After some hours had passed and as the number of people augmented soon Koka was taken outside. I saw a Pandit chanting some verses and Dity was repeating those. I was more shocked to see Dity not in his usual attire but in dhoti and just sador. Things were happening too fast and too soon and no one seemed to have time for me to explain what was going on. Soon Koka was transferred to a sangi and he was carried away.

Everything happened in such a jiffy that I tried not to get too much into it. I thought once the people wouldleave us alone I’d ask Maa or Dity what actually was happening. But I never got a chance.
All that followed for the rest 15 days made me realize that Koka would never come back again. I could not see him nor talk to him ever. But why? No one had an answer to this.

Dity had shaved his head and the first time I saw him I gave a sharp cry! I didn’t like him this way. I wanted my Dity to be the way he was always – denim clad or in shorts or in kurta pajamas, not someone wearing dhotis and that too with his head shaved!

Soon the mourning days passed over. Things were back to normal –How much I missed my bed! (I had a bed to myself which Koka named it as “xoru khat”. It was basically a type of “charpoy”)

But something went terribly missing from our home. Something snapped. Something went wrong and all of a sudden happiness which was always around, now seemed to come in small packages.

But well, I had another set of Aita & Koka too…. So I knew at least there were people I could bank upon… and every summer I looked eagerly for my one month Shillong vacations….