This one’s for you...

“This one’s for you..” He smiled as the memory of that day flashed into his mind. How long has it been? Five years? Ten years? The memory was still as fresh in his mind as though it had happened just yesterday.

He was on his way back from work, and had taken a different route that day. That’s when he passed it, the International School, where he used to have music classes. Every Sunday afternoon, for two hours-that’s where he gave wings to his passion. He came alive in those two hours, transforming all his emotions into notes. His keyboard was his friend, lover, companion, everything.

“What’re you smiling at?” His wife’s words broke into his thoughts.

“Nothing.” He continued smiling.

“What?? Tell me...” She gently prodded.

He’d never told it to anyone, not even to his wife, who was his best friend and confidante. He felt that it was somehow too special to be shared, as though the beauty of it would get spoilt by just a narration. But, looking at his wife, he knew that no one else would understand it as well either. As he started talking, his mind flashed back to all those years.

***

Hunk, daredevil, hero, singer, rockstar- he had had a lot of tags attached to him during his youth. The star of his college, the heartthrob of girls, he was used to reducing girls to a simpering pile of mush with just a look. Passionate about music, he used to go for keyboard classes at the International School, certified by the Trinity College of Music, London.

It was the day of his final recital, and he had overslept. He woke up to his friend’s call, and rushed to the school, not bothering about the prescribed dress code. As he entered the recital hall, a shiver of excitement went through him. “This is it”, he thought to himself. “This is where years of my learning will be tested, and I will finally be certified.”

The hall was filled with nervous, hopeful musicians, waiting for their turn up on the stage. Some of them were familiar, some new. That’s when his eyes fell on her. He’d never seen her there before, so he assumed that she was probably among those NRI’s who’d come from the U.S to give their recital. She looked up at him, just a glance, and looked back down at the notes in her hand.

Now this was new. He was not used to this. Girls always gave him a second glance, and then a third, fourth, fifth glance.

But then, this girl, there was something different about her. She was totally unlike the usual bimbos he had met till now. Everything about her was delicate, feminine, beautiful. Her flawless complexion, pink lips, warm brown eyes, light brown silky hair pulled back from her angelic face in a ponytail- and no trace of make-up. She looked like Cindrella, he thought, and for the first time in his sixteen years, he had fallen for a girl.


The performances got over one by one, and then it was his turn. For the next fifteen minutes, he was lost- lost in the world of music. As the crescendo descended, he became aware of the sound of thunderous applause. He got down from the stage and wound his way through the rows of chairs to the only empty chair he could find. As he sat down and glanced at his neighbour, a jolt of excitement shot through him. It was her! His mind went blank. And then he heard a soft voice calling out to him.

“Nikhil, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Anamika. What you did up there, that was awesome.”

“Oh, thank you.” His senses seemed to have taken leave of him.

“Big fan...” She kept her hand over her heart as she said it.

“Thanks..” He gave a dimpled smile.

“Next performance is by Anamika”, came the announcement.

As she left her seat to go up on stage, Nikhil thought he heard her murmur something; something that sounded like “This one’s for you.”

“Did you hear something?” he asked his friend seated next to him, who said that he hadn’t. “I guess I must’ve imagined it”, he said to himself. There she was up on the stage, on the piano, and she was singing. He couldn’t recognize the song, but the lyrics went “I think of you...” And all throughout the performance, she didn’t take her eyes off him, and he didn’t attempt to look away either. It was as though someone had pressed the ‘Pause’ button on the rest of the world. There was magic in the air.

As she came down the stage, cheeks flushed a lovely red with excitement and joy, and resumed her seat next to him, he kept his hand over his heart and said, “You know what? Big fan..” The most innocent smile he’d ever seen lit up her face.

“Did you say something just before you went up on stage?”

“No...”

The show was over. Everyone had had their fifteen seconds of fame. As she got up to leave, she glanced back at him, and with the slightest hint of a smile, said “You heard right, you dumbo.” And then she was gone, just like that. He felt as though he was flying.

He eagerly waited for her the next Sunday, and yes, there she was. He experienced the same buoyant feeling in his heart that he’d felt when he first saw her. It was like his heart was a red balloon, floating up, up and away, sky the limit. Her smile seemed to light up the room.


“Hi, how’re you?” Her accented English blew him away more.

“I’m doing good.” He’d managed to untie his tongue.

“Ok...Umm..I’m just here for a few days actually. I live in the U.S, came down here just for my performance...”

“Oh...ok...” Somewhere up there, God was laughing at him.

They chatted for a while, two shy teenagers, blushing each time their eyes met. It was time for her to leave, she said. As she went down the stairs, she kept looking back at him, and he couldn’t move from where he stood.

“Nikhil, would you mind walking me till the gate?”

“Sure.” He had to be careful not to run too fast.

As they went down the driveway, neither of them spoke a word. And yet, there was something comfortable about that silence, as though neither wanted to spoil the beauty of that moment with meaningless chatter. The silence spoke volumes. They reached her car, and they looked at each other, warm brown eyes softening the intense black ones.

“So, bye then..I guess...” Maybe the soft voice lessened the blow the words had.

“Ya...bye. I’ll see you again soon, I hope.”

“Ya, hopefully.” She smiled.

And then she was gone.

***

“I never saw her again, you know. I searched for her the next Sunday, but she wasn’t there. And then my course got over, so I didn’t go back there.” He could sense that he had turned nostalgic. The boy who had yearned to see his angel for just one more time so that he could just sit with her, looking at her- the boy he’d hidden away somewhere, had resurfaced.

“You didn’t take her number, email id, anything?”

“Nope. Nothing. I tried searching for her on some sites, chat rooms, even Google-searched her name”. He laughed at the memory. “But I never found her. Maybe that’s why I still remember her. She came into my life like an angel, like a gentle breeze on a hot summer’s day, gave a little joy, made me aware of a side of me that I never knew existed, and then she vanished. I won’t call it love. No. It wasn’t even a crush. But whatever it was, it was beautiful. She touched my life like no one ever has.”

“Hey!!” His wife swatted him playfully on his head.


They were back home. He felt lighter, happier, that he’d shared it with his wife. Maybe the reason he’d never shared it was that it was inexplicable. He had gently packed it away in his heart, like he’d seen his mother pack away her silver, so that it remained pure, untarnished, without so much as a blemish. He went to his keyboard, and as he started playing his favourite composition, he said to himself, and to his Cinderella, “This one’s for you...”


***********************************

I wanted to write something special for my 100th post, but couldn't figure out what. So I decided to post the first ever short story I ever wrote, over a year back. So this is an amateur's attempt. Pardon me if it's not good enough. :)

Dedicated to the person whose true-life experience inspired this story...

All you need to do is look around you, and you'll find a story in every person, in every smile, behind every drop of tear, in every song, around every corner...

Of shades in the dark and my favourite post.

Have you guys ever laughed at one of those idiots who wears dark glasses/shades after dark? Come on, don't tell me you haven't. I know I have, many many times.

Well... I no longer will. That person could very well have been the victim of a lens blunder.

I'll explain.

I recently started wearing lenses. So I'm still getting used to the whole sticking-finger-into-my-eye ritual. I take about ten minutes to wear my lenses because each time I bring the lens near my eye, my head moves back on its own accord. So I have to keep an imaginary hand behind my head and push it forward. Then after a lot of rapid blinking, treating the lens as though it's the small ball of chapathi dough that your mom gives you to play with (to keep you out of her way mainly), and lot of eye-watering, it's finally in place.

But I was having trouble going out with it because dust would get in my eyes. So I went and bought a pair of shades. The other day, I was leaving from office in the evening, and a colleague of mine had offered to give me a lift. Since I was going on a bike, I thought it would be best to remove my lens and wear my specs. So I went to the washroom, removed my lens, placed them in the case, and took out my spectacles case.

Only to find that I had forgotten to put my specs in the case.

So I push the lens back into my kajal-laden eyes (if you're a lens-wearer, you'll know that it is advised to wear eye makeup after you've worn the lens, otherwise it'll get dirty), put on my shades, cover my head and half my face with my stole, and avoid looking at anyone the entire ride back home.

I'm telling you, don't EVER laugh at someone wearing shades after dark. It's NOT out fault. Well, maybe a little.
***

There's a small bit of news I wanted to share with you guys.

Sometime in 2010, a bunch of writers based in Bangalore had published a book called Mind Blogs 1.0- a collection of their blog posts collated into a book. They also have a blog for it. Earlier this year, they had invited guest posts from other bloggers, and I had sent one of mine in. Here it is.

So a few days back, one of the writers of Mind Blogs 1.0 mailed me and informed me that they're having a reading of the book, and that they're also inviting the guest bloggers to come and read aloud their posts, and whether I would want to join in. I was like 'Why not?!'. So it's happening in Bangalore this saturday. Do come down if you're in Bangalore and are jobless on Saturday evening. :)

Details of the event can be found here.

I know it's not all that big a deal, but for me it is, because that post is my favourite. It's the one I hold closest to my heart, and the way I see it, it's a fitting tribute to one of the most amazing human being I've ever known in my life (Originally published here).

So drop by if you can. :) And if you're planning to, just leave me a mail and let me know, so that I can watch out for you.

A small step for Divya. A giant leap for Divyakind.

Ok ok! I'm sorry! :/

Elevated...

Introducing PeeVee to bloggers is like introducing the Pope to christians. Or introducing Tarla Dalal to kitchen enthusiasts. Or introducing Rajnikant to God.

Err.. You get the point.

You all know her. You all read her. You all follow her. And you all love her.

She's one of those writers who can entertain people even if she writes only one small paragraph.

But right now, she's got more than a paragraph. She's got a little tale for us. One of those that never fails to delight us with it's simplicity, emotions, brilliance.

So here it is, a guest post from my fellow-blogger, friend, fellow foodie and FRIENDS-fanatic, and a kid sister- PeeVee (who I'm often tempted to call BeeVee, but then that would be just too gay), from Confessions of the chocolate obsessed.

Ta da!!

***

Elevators always give me the feeling of having left my stomach behind.

As this one went down, I checked my reflection in the mirror, more out of habit than anything else. While I earned a few snicker-filled glances for my supposed vanity, the good part was that I saw the perverted old man trying to look down my shirt stealthily. I gave him my best “fuck-off” stare and ignored him while the others in the lift wondered where my sudden rancor came from.

Not that I cared, the afternoon was dull and sluggish either way.

As the doors opened, I shrunk back to save myself from the melee; the way the others rushed out, it was almost as if the KFC had set up stalls of free chicken buckets outside. I waited till everyone was out; I was in no hurry, no specific planes to catch, worlds to save. That was when I noticed him.

He was by no means the cutest/hottest guy I’d ever seen; certainly not a Greek god – not even tall enough to pass off as one. Nor did he have the perfect body to drool over, what little I could see of it. He didn’t even stand out of the crowd, just another face… another person waiting to take the elevator.

But I had a slow-mo* moment. I saw him smile at something his friend said, deepening the dimples in his cheek into deeper grooves. His eyes sparkled with amusement, a feat very few men can genuinely achieve; smile with only their eyes, that is. His hair stood up at the back of his head like Harry Potter with such adorable charm that I could only stare. The light purple stripes on his shirt made him look almost handsome.

You know that feeling when you instantly crush on someone? The quick tightening of the intestines, a sudden awareness, to say silly things to him, a need bordering on desperation for him to respond, to at least notice?



I didn’t freeze nor did I fall head over heels for him at first sight. In this desert of cute-starved women, I was just another survivor who witnessed a mirage.
Mirage, I say, for he was gone before I could even process the words to make one sentence. Gone with the melee going into the elevator this time; almost as if God had destined us to go in opposite directions and never meet.

I shook my head to displace the stupid thoughts of God being jobless enough to sit and plot out scenarios to make my love life interesting and started walking but I couldn’t help looking back inside the elevator.

And tripped over the unused mannequin on the side.

As luck would have it, he was looking at me. With a grin. It was one of those moments when I wish I had Sita-like capabilities of being swallowed by Mother Earth.
Ah well. It wasn’t like he was going to marry me anyway, I thought to myself, plunking my slightly-hurting tush and slightly-bruised ego on the stool. As I ordered my chocolate crusher, I found myself still thinking thoughts about him.



Simple attraction. While the world had gone on and become muddled and tripped over its own tail about love and related maladies, these two simple words had lost their way. How about two people liking what they see of each other, acknowledging the same and moving on with their lives? Or in my case, ONE of us doing all the liking and acknowledging. But why couldn’t it be that simple? I wished it would be after wondering how he liked his coffee.

I wondered if I was making up the philosophical angle to explain away my own unusually flirtatious behavior, as uncharacteristic as it was, or if it actually held any weight. As I slurped my way to the rocky end of the crusher, the waiter placed a cup and a napkin on the table startling me out of my thoughts. I started protesting about not asking for the coffee when he pointed at the napkin.

Coffee?

I spun around to see the dimples firmly in place, eyes almost daring me to refuse. It was almost like he knew I didn’t crush like this often. I walked over and spent the four most prolific hours of my love life by that café window, right before he had to catch his flight.



Turns out it WAS that simple.

And I found out that he liked his coffee black.

P.S: Dedicated to that unknown cute guy outside the Kalyan Silks lift (with his girlfriend/wife) who didn’t quite meet my eye the second time :)

*slow mo moment – the part in movies when everything moved in slow motion and you can see everything in HD like the heroine flipping her hair and her ‘dancing’ eyes and the hero reaching for her hand and shit. You get the point. If you don’t, you obviously haven’t watched the prescribed amount of Bollywood.

***

Ra.Too-many

This festive season, bring home the new Whisper Ultra with wings, that soaks the extra dampness and keeps you dry and happy all through the day.
Just like G.One.


This festive season, bring home Pedigree dog food. It keeps your dog healthy and active.
Just like G.One.

This festive season, bring home the New Harpic toilet cleaner, which goes deep into your toilet and kills germs.
Just like G.One

This festive season, bring home the new range of undergarments from V.I.P. It gives your body parts the necessary support that it requires.
Just like G.One.

This festive season, bring home the new Pril Dishwash Liquid. It’s lemon formula goes into the gehraai of your barthan and cleans it, leaving it sparkling and khushbudaar.
Just like G.One.


This festive season, bring home Itchguard. It prevents you from facing embarrassing episodes of scratching.
Just like G.One.

This festive season, bring home anything. You’re sure to bring home either Ra.One or G.One along with it. And when you get them, please put them inside your attic and lock them in there.




At the risk of sounding like a lesbo, I must ask- doesn't Vidya Balan look absolutely delicious in the promo of 'The Dirty Picture'?


Saw 'Mujhse Fraandship Karoge' last night. One time watch. The two main leads have done a wonderful job (Saqib saleem and Saba Azad), especially Saqib. But no matter how 'youthful' YashRaj Films tries to be, the movie's got the 'Y' stamp of candy-floss romance and elaborate-dripping-with-drama endings imprinted on it clearly. I would give it 2.5/5. Raghu Dixit's bollywood debut is fair enough. I really liked the songs "Uh oh uh oh Pyaar hua (I guess I'm falling in love)" and "Dheon dheon".

P.S:- Will someone please help Esha Deol find her father? She’s been yelling “Mujhe mere dad ko dhoondhna hai.” ‘Mujhe mere dad ko dhoondhna hai!”, “MUJHE MERE DAD KO DHOONDNA HAI!!!” every time I switch on the T.V. All this yelling only must have driven him away. Bleddy.

And no, don’t even bother. I will continue to watch T.V and crib about it.

PeeVee's guest post is coming up in my next post. So you know you're going to stay tuned. :)

Images: G.Images

The too-long post with too many random things

I’m looking at the world through black-tinted eyes now…




No need to read anything deep or significant into it. I bought a new pair of shades, my first ever, and wanted to show off. That’s all.


May I take a moment to say ‘Thank god it’s Friday!’ *doing the very popular and trendy step that Himi grooves to in ‘Tandoori Nights’ from Karzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*




Isn't he just priceless? I want to marry him and have nasal-voiced cap-wearing babies with him.

I got another award! Yay!!!

I was given the ‘Your Blog is Great/Tell me about yourself’ Award by Ashwini. Thanks Ashwini!



And I have to write seven random things about myself, yet again. Random, you say? Alright. Random, I’ll write.

1) I hate it when people ask me the power of my spectacles. Keep in mind, people (note this down, if you want)- Never ask a girl her age and her chashme ka power.

2) I don’t watch T.V too much, but when I do watch something interesting, then I’m deaf and blind to the rest of the world. These days, if someone calls me at night in between 9:00 PM and 10:00 PM, this is how I reply. “HelloI’mwatchingMasterChefAustraliaI’llcallyoulaterokbye”. And if someone comes over, I mostly tell them on their face to get out soon, before the commercial break gets over.

3) I wish to give my voice for an animation feature at least once in my life. I used to do a lot of ads when I was in Red FM, and I also did other voice-over assignments (If you pick up your phone and it’s one of those IVR messages from a mobile service provider, don’t hang up immediately. That might just be my voice :/) It’s an art, knowing how to modulate your voice, bring emotion into it, maintain a pace, and sound pleasing to the ears. I used to absolutely love doing it. I had done a show for AIR long back, in college, and that’s when I fell in love with that whole exercise. But I lost touch with it once I quit Red. I really want to get back to it now. Before I spoil my voice with too much ice-cream and chilled Slice.

4) I drop my mobile phone on an average of two times per day. Once I got down from a cab and heard a crunch. I searched for my phone but couldn’t find it. There it was, safely wedged between my foot and the road.

5) I’m so confused, I could give Confucious a complex.

6) I love imli. I can sit and eat a whole packet full of imli candies at one go without so much as a wince. I used to finish off a whole dabba of Hajmola Imli in three days. And no, I didn’t kill anyone with toxic gases.

7) Umm.. Ok, this one’s a little embarrassing, but it’s time I admitted it and found a solution to this. I cannot sleep if there is anyone else on my bed next to me. I may drift off a bit, but I just cannot sleep. My mom once slept next to me, and in her sleep, put her arms around me. I woke up shouting “Ayyo ayyo! Somebody put their hands on me!” Amma doesn’t sleep next to me much anymore. Do you think I should put this on my matrimonial ad? "25, post graduate, has issues sharing bed with anyone."

What? Random only I wrote off no?

I’m supposed to give the award away to a few more bloggers. I thought I’ll take this opportunity to give it to some of the new blogs that I recently started reading and who I haven’t awarded yet. (No offence to the veterans. You guys still rock).

a) Krishna Sruthi Srivalsan- From the ashes

b) Sushmit- Blogwati

c) Atrocious Scribblings

d) Supernickkk- The devil’s workshop

e) Kalpak- Noises of my empty vessel

f) Darsh- Serenading Serendipity

g) Deepthi- Confessions of a life-a-holic

So there you go. Please do go over and read each of them if you already haven't.

# My current favoutire song of my jaanu Himi.



I keep humming "No touching no touching. Only seeing only seeing. No kissing no kissing. Only seeing only seeing." What lyrics, no? And I like how his mouth is constantly open in the song. So sesky.

Shake that biscuit baybe. Shake it for me!

Happy weekending!

The Effing blog

So ages ago, before even the wheel was invented, I asked Mr.Ranjith Raj, one of my favourite bloggers, to write a guest post for me.

The first thing that got me reading his blog was the blog name. I distinctly remember, when I opened his page, I did a quick check to look around and ensure that no one was around me, lest they think I'm surfing porn in the office. He's honest, funny, unpretentious (well, maybe a little, like all Mallu guys :P). And he writes awesomely. If only he would write more often. He's a celebrity of sorts, with his pic and blog being featured in a Bangalore daily recently(Ah!! So THAT's why you put up one 'sumukhan susheelan' pic in your birthday post!!)

So without further ado, presenting to you :-
R-A-J from fucklove!

And dude, just so you know, if I ever do get kicked out of my job for allegedly surfing porn, you'll have to pay me blogmony (the bloggers' version of alimony).

Over to you...

***

The future of the blogginzzz...

The news is that Divya the most useful, asked me, the most useless, to guest blog on her impressive site.

Her mandate was that my post should be funny. I suggested to her than in that case, I could write about my life plans; everyone seems to laugh at them, but then she said it also had to be sensible. (Damn! :( )

So as I thought about what to write on, I thought I could write on ‘time management’ considering that she told me that she needed this piece within a week. And I also faintly remember that she told me the same some two months back. Brilliant time management skills I have, I know, I know… :)

On blogspace, we follow each other. We’re avid bloggers and she’s more active on the blogspace than I am – while she posts, waits and posts more, I wait, post and wait more. Also, a good chunk of people come to my blog from hers.

And that’s when it struck me of the growing number of friends that I’m making because of the bloggingz, Divya being one of them. I mean, in my heart, I know that if these fellow bloggers had known me in real life, they’d probably have gunned me down by now because of my good behavior (like they say, some people are still alive cos it’s illegal to kill them!) But in blogspace, I’m making a lot of friends which is pretty much the opposite of what is happening in my real life. :)

So in the light of this new medium which has given me new friends, my bright idea is: - to write on …..The future of Indian bloggingz!!! (…tada…)

So what is the bloggingz? Well, like the poet once said, Bloggingz is one of the greater movements that has democratized the net – anybody with a keyboard, reasonable writing skills and varied levels of sanity can write about anyone, anyhow and anywhere. Of course, in India, Facebook provides a better means for this. But FB is still about one liners; but think you this about this really cool idea – people try really hard to come up with smart and witty facebook status updates but if you could take all the status messages that really awed u and collate it into one place, you’d have one absolutely great read! For example, when Steve Jobs passed away, the many facebook updates changed from the mere informative (“RIP Steve Jobs”) in the morning to more intellectual ones by afternoon (quoting his Stanford speech) to the creative ones in the evening (see cool pic here). Just collating all of these status updates would have created one hell of a great write up on Master Jobs! And a blog and the bloggingz are a lot similar! It’s a collation of thoughts, structured into a fine flow with the guiding force of its popularity always being – “the cooler the content, the better the blog”.

In the west, bloggingz went from proliferation, communities (a la Indiblogger) the eventual consolidation and the resurgence of niche blogs. In India, bloggingz is still in the nascent phase but as long as nothing can beat the magic of a great read, even Rajni agrees that the future of the bloggingz is supposedly secure.

So how is the bloggginz scene in the India? Well, people smarter than me say that in India, the whole bloggingz cycle has been going strong and is still in the proliferation phase. Sure there is attrition in the existing set of bloggers due to the inherent challenge of maintaining quality content, but more and more mango peoples are getting into the Indian bloggingz bandwagon through better net connectivity, lower net usage rates and to satisfy that innate need for self expression. Following are some of the trends that me thinkz shall impact the futurezz of the Indian bloggingz:

•The 4 Cs of any successful blog are content, content, content and content.

•Facebook, Twitter and other social media tools will empower bloggers, contrary to the naysayers’ view that social media will weaken bloggingz.

•Women bloggers are increasing – however at last count, men still outnumber women 3 to 1 in India.

•Majority of Indian bloggers still have a casual approach to bloggingz and with time, more will crack open the monetization angle, thereby increasing the incidence of bloggers who make money out of their blogs.

•The growing association of mainstream brands with bloggingz shall increase, though I’m not sure if they have yet figured out how to make the most of this medium.

•One’s blog will be another added facet to one’s personality in the future.

•And the bestest thing about the bloggingz is that people with abysmally low levels of intelligence like me, can use big, big words like democratized, proliferation , consolidation, moneti….etc and still get away with it… :)


And as for the funny in this post…..

Well, an old man walks into a saloon thinking it’s a restaurant.

So the old man, “What do you have?”. So the barber, “Cutting and Shaving”.

So the old man, “OK, bring me a plate of both then!” :)
(For the mallus out there, the real deal here.)

Bloggingz rules man! My jokes clearly don’t! :)

Just december dat!

:)


Research/plagiarism references: watblog.com, google, indiblogger, own gut.. :)

***

In case you were wondering why his blog is named so, here is why, from the man himself. And while you're there, read the rest of his blog too. When you've finished laughing, come thank me.

Random Monday

Ek fairness cream jo sab kuch karta hain.

Ha, sab kuch. Aapko gora banata hain, jawaan banata hain. Ghar saaf karta hain, barthan dhotha hai, kapde dhotha hain, khaana banata hai, jhaado-poncha martha hain, baccho ke sussu-potty dhotha hai, subah-subah aapko neend se jagaatha hai, aapke liye chai-naashta banata hai. Raat ko kahaniyaan bhi sunata hai. Zaroorat pade tho khujli bhi karke deta hain.

Aapka fairness cream kya karta hain?

Do you want it to be translated into Inglees? Alright then.

A fairness cream that does everything.

Yes, everything. It’ll make you fairer, make you look younger. Cleans your house, washes vessels, washes clothes, cooks, does sweeping-swabbing, cleans your kid’s sussu-potty, wakes you up in the morning, makes chai-breakfast for you. Tells you stories at bedtime. If required, it’ll do scratching also for you.

What does your fairness cream do?

P.S 1:- No, haven't gone bonkers. Have you seen the new Olay fairness cream ad? If they make anymore fairness creams, all Indian women are going to look like ghosts.

P.S 2:- Please go read this lady’s blog if you haven’t yet. Very different, very funny.

Just love this song.


Edited to add: Yippe! The Youtube thingy works! Thanks, you guys! :)

The 10-day 'You' Challenge- Seven Wants

I had almost forgotten about this.


1) Money
What? You thought I was some Mother Theresa types?

When I had just finished my M.A., I was one of those who didn’t consider money very important. I was all “What matters is whether I learn the job well and how much I love my job. Money is the last priority.” Ya, that lasted for like, four months. Being perpetually broke is not a great state of being, you see. And it’s not like I want crores and crores of money. No. I just want enough. And how much is enough? I guess that’s relative.

For me, enough would be- if I suddenly get the craving to eat something, I shouldn’t have to think twice about it. If I see a pretty saree and want to buy it for mom, I shouldn’t have to forego something else for it. If I want to buy a bottle of Scotch for dad, I should be able to do it without worrying about whether I’ll have enough money to buy ration for the month. There’s a pretty watch that I think my sister will like, I want to be able to buy it without any worry. If someone in my family falls ill, I want to be able to catch a flight and get there as soon as possible. Or if I fall ill, I should have enough for the hospital bills (which can be exorbitant) If a friend needs money, I want to be able to lend it to him/her. When I’m tired at the end of the day, I want to be able to take an auto without worrying that that’s my dinner money I’m spending and will now have to manage with Maggi.
Is this asking for too much?

2) My own house.
Beautiful houses take me to orgasmic heights (Oh c’mon. Loosen that muscle, will you?). I’m an absolute sucker for them. I’ve stared at houses on the road enough to make the watchmen suspicious of me. I have practically drooled over those coffee-table books that you find in bookstores which have pictures of gorgeous houses. And a house of my own is one of my fondest dreams. I have it all planned out in my head. What the rooms will look like, the verandah (very very important), a ‘nook’, a large airy bedroom with lots of windows- I have it all mapped out. Now all I need is lots of money- or a rich husband, whichever happens first. ;)

And if I want to paint my bedroom purple, I damn well will!!!

3) To travel
I want to see at least my own state properly. People here in Hyderabad tell me “Wow, Kerala is a beautiful place no? Aleppey, Munnar, etc..” And I’m like “Err..ya. So I’ve heard!” I haven’t seen my own state properly! I need to go back there as a tourist one day and roam around. And then I want to travel the rest of India. There’s so much to see, so little money (it’s amusing, isn’t it, how I connect everything to money. Or maybe not. Sigh…).

4) To open a bookstore.
No surprises here, since I love bookstores so much. I want to open one of those quaint little stores with stone benches outside and winding wooden staircase inside (yes, I’m a BIG fan of Enid Blyton). Not too big, but a cozy little place where people can come sit and read and unwind.

5) My own bakery
Isn’t it heavenly, the scent that greets you when you walk into a bakery? I love it. I’ve always been fascinated by cakes and pastries etc. And some day, I want to learn how to bake those wonderful things and start my own bakery. Of course, that I might end up eating most of the things myself is another matter.

6) To write a book.
Ha… someday.

7) To be an awesome cook. And have a fabulous kitchen.


I love cooking. Especially if there is someone else to cook for. If I’m alone, I’ll probably cook just Maggi or pasta or khichdi. But if there is someone I can cook for, I give it my best. It’s the second best feeling in the world when others appreciate my cooking, the first one being appreciation for my writing. And I’m not the kind who can manage with just three spoons and two utensils. I need specific vessels for everything. And I obsess for days if I mess up a dish. It’s the only positive trait I managed to inherit from Mumsy darling.


# Is anyone out there as much a lover of old Hindi songs as I am? Here's one of my all-time favourites.
By the way, how do I add a Youtube video to my post as not just a link, but the actual video?

In case you are scratching your head over what this is all about:-
Ten Secrets, Nine Loves and Eight Fears.

Shades of blue

FB is like this annoying ex-boyfriend who I have broken up with but still can’t stop talking about, even if it is to bitch about him. Remember Carrie obsessing over Big?

So while I’m happy that I deactivated my account, I leave no oppurtunity to tell people that I quit FB. I get some sort of weird pleasure when they get shocked and ask me why, and I answer “Because I got bored.” Some think I quit because ‘something happened’. Some think I’m just plain mental to have quit. Some others think I’ll be back sooner than I can say ‘I’m bored.’

So here’s the real reason why I quit.

I had absolutely nothing to do on it. I mean, I had stopped updating status messages (my creativity had shriveled down to the size of goat poop), I hardly uploaded pics, I never logged on to chat, I rarely changed my profile pic, I had stopped linking my blog posts also. And yet, I logged on every half an hour. For what joy? God knows. And then when I see that nothing new is happening, I would get pissed off all over again. I would worry over taking a good picture so that I would get a lot of likes and comments on it. Taking pics was not about preserving memories anymore. It was for the sole purpose of uploading it on FB. And the quirkier the picture, the better. Normal is boring, you see.

The worst part? I see my friends- girls I studied in school and college with- getting married and having babies. First the green-eyed monster rears its head. Then the blue-toned monster takes over- depression (what an irony that the colour of FB is also blue). Depression that I’m not married, that I’m not even close to getting married. That I don’t have a baby. That the only vacation I take is to TVM and B’lore. That I’m constantly broke by the end of the month. That I don’t have a kick-ass figure like that old friend who used to be fat in school. That I don’t have radiant skin and perfect hair like the wife of the most geeky guy in class. That compared to many people I had studied with, I've reached nowhere in life.

It was getting stressful. And frustrating. Honestly. I mean, ya, I know I should be thankful for a lot many things that I have in life. And I am thankful for all that.

But sometimes, I just go into one of those moods where I mope and mourn over what I don’t have and how badly I want it. Where it hits me real hard that I have absolutely no direction in life.

I’m sorry. I’m just going through a crappy phase right now. Will be back with less-depressing posts soon. If my creativity hasn’t shriveled down to the size of a mustard by then. I promise.