Life in my Wormhole

2012-01-14T13:21:00.004+05:30

My new year was even worse than I expected.

The run up wasn't so bad...I decided to have some games for people in office on the 30th. Spent the money I'd been saving to party on prizes for the winners. I had fun but had an unexpected client call that evening and ended up stuck in office till almost 9. Went home, and around 11 after dinner, decided I was too tired to study. That's when things started to go south.

I planned to wake up at 5 am and study for 4 hours, take 30 minutes to get ready and an hour to actually get there in time for the 10:30 paper. After all it was Business Statistics - and our professor had assured us that the test would be a
practical one in the computer lab. Aanndd, I am pretty good at stats and
excel... soooo....I went to sleep. Nothing wrong with the plan but I did not leave room for things to go wrong. Which considering that this is my life was a BIG mistake.

I woke up at 2:45 am when my phone rang. My little sister was on the
phone, sobbing as if her heart would break. She'd had another run in with
my folks. I tried to calm her down but with a flair for drama, second to
none (not even me), and without saying the actual words, she managed to convince me that her bags were packed to run away. Terrified and remembering my parents
"tyranny" from my "childhood" (more about that later) I tried to convince
her not to take any drastic decisions while she was emotional. Finally I
had to tell her that I had to hang up on her cos I was almost crying
myself. It was about 4 am at that time. After that I enjoyed an hour or
two of crying until I realized that it was almost 6 am and I had not
studied anything. Sooo... I started looking through my excel files, had a
bath, drove the almost 40 kms to college, screwed up the paper so badly
that I still can't bear to think about it, drove home in a daze and
collapsed on my sofa to welcome the new year.

-*-*-*-

Funny thing is there was just one person in Pune that I wanted to meet that
day. And on the list of all the people who wanted to meet me... that name
was conspicuously missing.

After all it's one thing to actually be able or unable to do something. But
able or unable wasn't the question. The question was about the wanting to
be able. Very mixed up I know, but unfortunately crystal clear to me.

Trial and Error

2011-12-17T01:35:00.003+05:30

Okay, so I was wrong after all. My last miracle was a joke but one I badly needed at the time.

I need another one now. God, are you listening?

Folks heading home on the 25th. N me with exams till the 31st. Christmas has always sucked. This year it'll hit a new low and probably be joined by the New Year... the one occasion I've always enjoyed. The only thing that used to make up for the crap that went before.

This year I'll probably be home alone for the New Year. Growing up sucks. There was a time, not too many years ago, that I'd have been happy enough partying with a bunch of friends. This year, just friends aren't enough. I want my love around. Or at least my best friends, my connections. I want to bring in the New Year with someone I love. So I'll lie to my friends, and tell them I have plans. Pretend someone has come by from Goa or Mumbai. Anything to avoid partying with them.

And so I'll be bringing in 2012 alone. Life in Pune just turned rotten. Realising there's no one to spend New Years with will do that to you.

Maybe I'll fulfil another of my life's ambitions and get drunk. Drinking alone at home.... yay.... my first steps on the road to alcoholism and a nervous breakdown.

Head v. Heart

2011-07-19T00:03:00.003+05:30

My heart has never done a very good job of looking out for me. As long back as I can remember it takes great pleasure in getting me in trouble.

My head on the other hand would have me lead a very boring but 'safe' life.

I still don't know which of them is looking out for my best interests and sadly I don't think I'll figure it out in this lifetime. Maybe each of them should have a blog of their own. Maybe then I'd understand what they want from me.

At least my head speaks clearly. Right now it's chanting the same speech continuously. Don't trust peoples words. Trust their actions.

My heart is pitifully begging me to listen and believe one more time.

"Listen to what or who Mr. Heart? Did you hear something I didn't? Did you hear something that made you feel better? I didn't. So if you think you did, you must have been listening to the words of a different song."

Not a fairytale

2011-07-17T19:59:00.002+05:30

Once upon a time there was a girl. And she had a friend that she was very fond off. He stepped on her foot deliberately, and when she tried to explain that it hurt, he did not understand because you see no one had ever stepped on his feet (or maybe he just had strong feet). So the little girl, sad and lonely decided it would be better not to have any friends because she had very sensitive feet.

Then one day lo and behold she met a boy who had had his feet stepped on before. And she felt so safe. Finally she could risk her precious feet. He told her he understood how much it hurt when someone steps on your feet and he said he would never step on hers. They became best friends.

Last week he stepped on her feet.

And God Was On Holiday

2011-07-11T00:37:00.005+05:30

She lay on the bed, stuffing a blanket in her mouth to stifle the sounds. Not that anyone would hear her anyway. Her next door neighbours were 3 walls away. They wouldn't hear her unless she screamed.

You may wonder why she tried to hide the sounds of her crying. She wondered too. Maybe it was more dramatic that way. Also, that way she didn't shock herself out of her crying jag. She'd been crying off and on all day. Putting on a fine performance for the Lord. Only he didn't seem to be watching.

Earlier in life God had actually responded to her pleas. Maybe now she was too far across the line for Him to be interested. Or maybe He felt she only remembered Him when she was sad. But that wasn't it. And being God He should have known that. She prayed to Him even when she was happy. Maybe cos she was always scared it wouldn't last. After all, it never did.

But still she tried. She'd lost faith in people. If she also lost faith in Him what else was left for her? Poor miserable piece of trash that she was.

But only inside. And only to herself at times ike this. People who saw her never saw the trash. Some saw a snob. Others a slut. Still others saw a child. All of them were right but all of them were wrong.

So she cried. Because almost no one saw her for who she was. And the one person who did, no longer saw her at all. And that,my friends, was the most painful loss of all.

Love, money, friends.... she'd lost them and lived. But this was the first time she did not have a single soul to look at her and see her for who she was. And God was on holiday.

Where have all the smart people gone?

2011-07-03T13:29:00.002+05:30

I've just been reading random posts from my blog and here are my conclusions:

I need to blog more often. -> I need more blog-worthy material -> I need to stimulate my mind with interaction with mentally stimulating company ->

And that's where I get stuck.

Everyone in my life has their own little niche. With people from work I talk about the office, with my sister we grumble about family, with my non-office friends (a rapidly dwindling species heading for extinction) I talk about everyday life (ergo,their problems and mine).

This sucks. I need to get to know people who will help me rearrange my brain and who will not fit into any of my life's patterns. But I don't want someone who's too intellectual to have a nonsensical conversation with. See the problem?

Hmm.. the hunt is on... :)

Anger and Money and Nero Wolfe

2011-07-03T13:01:00.002+05:30

I'm angry. And the problem is that just one thing is keeping me happy these days... n that's Nero Wolfe books. Which means in addition to being angry I'm also spending an average of 300 bucks per day buying ebooks online. And there are about 42 books in the series!

:(

I need anger management therapy... It'd probably save me money in the long run...

Wanted: A friend

2011-02-16T07:01:00.001+05:30

Wanted: A friend

Sex/religion no bar.
Location: Pune. Viman Nagar preferred unless he/she is willing to travel to Viman Nagar every day.
Qualifications:
• Interested in unusual things
• Fed up of life
• Likes having a drink now and then
• Likes old rock music
• Will sit with me silently in a pub and have a drink every now and then
• Likes to travel
• Does not mind planning in advance
• Does not mind spur of the moment madness
• Has a lot of faith in a God but is not religious
• Age - 27-31
• Is not girl/guy obsessed
• Is not weight/health obsessed
• Is not anything-obsessed
• Has principles and is willing to stand by them
• Believes in right and wrong (and has the same concepts as me on the important things)
• Has opinions but is not interested in shoving them down anyone’s throat
• Can talk at times and can be silent at other times
• Likes to drive/ride about aimlessly
• Is not nursing a broken heart
• Is not cursed by life
• Is not fascinated by being popular. Someone who can see and laugh at the weird side of life.
• Does not smoke or do drugs
• Someone who is not broke
• Someone who is not chronically ill
• Someone who has no major tragedies currently in his/her life
• Likes learning about new things
• Someone who’s seen pain in life
• Someone who’s loved and lost someone
• Someone who will talk and express himself/herself rather than keep it inside and let it harm our friendship.

The Opthamologist and the Dentist

2010-06-01T22:11:00.003+05:30

One day I'll write more about this I promise... but today, I just have to say I once wrote this about an ophthalmologist. Well he has a brother who's a dentist. Who also has the same magic, the same effect on me.

So what the hell is their secret?

Bobby S.

2010-05-21T23:24:00.004+05:30

It's been a long time I've really cried my eyes out. But I'm close today. My heart is aching with the pain of it all. But I'm rationing the tears before they get too bad. There's no one I can message for support. All my friends are too far away to be of any help. Been a long time since I've been so alone. A stranger in a strange city.

I know everyone is supposed to have one or two things wrong with them... but I'm all wrong. I wish I was a simple uncomplicated soul, merrily skipping thru life with nary a worry. Or at the most worrying about what to wear to work or how to comb my hair.

Instead I'm me. And while I do love myself I wish I was easier for others to understand. Most days I'm happy I'm not part of the crowd, but on days like today I'd give a lot just to blend in. To fit in. For my life to chug along like everyone else's.

Why am I writing this here? Cos I haven't been writing here regularly so I know the chances of someone reading this are slight. So I can put out my feelings without worrying about giving out too much of myself.

Why does my nose run everytime I cry? I wish I could cry daintily...so people would feel bad and come running to make me feel better. As it is I am a mess. That's why I cry in the shadows. In private. When there's no one to wipe away my tears. But still hoping desperately that someone would.

A silent cry for help. So be it. Here God. Here's a prayer. I'm not going to pray for anything specific cos we both know that ain't going to happen. Instead, all I ask is that You show me what You want and help me do it with a minimum of fuss and pain.

Isn't it time you stop playing these games. Get on with it; or let me quit.

False friends and false memories

2010-05-03T09:13:00.001+05:30

I don't understand how people can cling to the past so much. I have a few friends who are still carrying the torch for their exes. Though they were cheated on / lied to / taken for granted / abused / misled... they still persist in absolving the other party of any of the blame. They continue to remember the "good times" and continue to enjoy memories of "the good old days when...".

I'm not like that.

When I was in college I had a friend I'll call Racheal. We had some good times together until I found that she was not really as fond of me as she pretended to me. I can no longer look back at the times I shared with her with any joy. Every time I remember the times we laughed together, my memories are tainted by the thought that maybe she was also laughing at me for not seeing through her. Each time I remember the secrets we shared I wonder at myself for not seeing through the facade faster.

I can never look back at a memory and see it untouched by what I know now.

Good, bad or ugly you decide.

2010 so far...

2010-02-24T13:07:00.001+05:30

2010 has been a revelation to me. It started with a bang. I had a blast but I also saw some things I did not want to see. Looking back at the year so far there have been three defining incidents.

First, I met a guy I once loved and was amazed by how indifferent I felt. I poked and prodded at my memories.... trying to remember the feelings I once had. Trying to recapture the glow. All to no avail. I've grown and changed. And so has he. And maybe that's the best answer to all those who say its best to fall in love and settle down at a young age. Yes, it's definitely easier to adjust. Yes, we are definitely not so rigid and fixed. But what if we do settle down... say at the ripe old age of 21 (that's how old I was when I loved that guy). And then say some years pass... and we grow and we discover that we have grown into two very different people....

A friend of mine argues that when you really care for someone you will both grow together.. but then... what of growing individually? If I was with him, would I have ever read Kahil Gibran, would I have learnt that I love upma and hate dosas, would I have learnt that beer only tastes good if you're dying of thirst..

Isn't it better that I learnt who I am and what I stand for before I set out to find my other half?

Who knows...

Hmm... what next...

I guess the next incident was falling sick. For the first time I felt cared for by someone other than family. And it felt good, though it only served to underscore the unmet expectations I've been carrying around.

Also my illness resulted in a looong visit from my dad. And somehow, without realising it, that looong visit taught me something important. It made me realise how much I valued something that had become such a part of my life that I was taking it for granted.

And still... still I remained blind.

The third incident was actually a series of incidents leading upto and beyond Valentine's day.

Someone I thought was my friend lied to me. And in such a way that it now makes me think back and wonder how many times he'd lied before. The tragedy of it was that the lies were all so unnecessary. What was the point? Did he do it for material profit? Maybe. Overall I'm about 20000 bucks poorer for that experience. But it was worth every penny to see the truth.
It doesn't hurt me, or at least I think it does not hurt me. Maybe I'm still in shock. Oh well, I wish I could say I've learnt my lesson and I will never trust someone like that again. I tried. I did try to stay bitter and distrusting. But then someone walked into my life. And taught me to trust him. I did not want to get close to him. But everytime I turned around he was there for me. How could I not learn to depend on him. I tried so hard to maintain a wall. But somehow, I don't know how, he got inside it.

Today I'm scared, but happy. Hurt, but joyful. I lost a fake friend, but thats the kind of loss that should be celebrated. I found someone precious, but thats the kind of joy that often brings pain.

So here I am once again. It's a new year. But the same old me. Once again I'm throwing myself off a cliff hoping I'll learn to fly. So what if I've crashed everytime till date. You only need to learn to fly once.

Back in the morning shift

2009-10-26T13:50:00.004+05:30

After 9 months in the evening shift everyone is back to a general 9 to 6 workday. All our families are happy. Are we?

Some of us, definitely are. Some would be happy if it wasn't for the drop in allowances. But many many others are missing the beauty of the night.

A nearly empty office, pin-drop silence, twinkling stars visible from the cafeteria, midnight walks to a nearby roadside stall... even the "slum" nearby looked lovely at night from our vantage point, high above the rest of the world.

It's the end of an era in a way. We now have one more thing to reminisce about.

I've been telling most of my friends that I feel that the end of this year will bring me some clarity on a problem that's been haunting me over the past 2 yrs.

I have this strong feeling that this is just one more necessary step on the road to enlightenment.

If so, I'm scared. I wish I had someone to stand by me at this point, someone to tell me it's all going to be alright.

I want someone to tell me whether I need to batten down the hatches... is there a storm approaching?

I don't want to worry needlessly, but I do so wish I knew whether I should be worrying at all.

Please God, if you're listening, send me a sign.

And if it's not good, give me the strength to handle it.

August 2009 & September 2009

2009-10-03T03:28:00.003+05:30

When I'm old and grey and I read through this blog, August 2009 is a month I'd like to remember.

It's the busiest month of my life so far.

I got promoted and I bought a flat. All in one month.

I still can't believe everything happened so fast. Finding a flat i liked, my folks giving me the go-ahead, getting the paperwork in place, getting my home loan approved, getting the registration done, and actually shifting into the flat. All in one month. And all this mind you just after i got new responsibilities at the start of the month that meant that i couldn't take time off and I had to show up and measure up at work!

As for September 2009... not such a good month. Been sick almost continuously. More importantly got to know somethings about certain people that I didn't like learning.

But hopefully by the end of this year I will clear all the junk out of my life and stick with things that are worth it.

Now that everything else is fine I need to clear my emotional life too.

I am seriously considering turning into an emotionally repressed person. The side effects of emotional repression (as seen on tv and in books) seem to be alcoholism and suicide. But thats usually a loooong process. I think I can pull of emotional repression for a year without doing any damage.

It'll be a break from the heightened emotional dramas I've been living through.

Food for thought...

Buying Books

2009-07-15T18:38:00.000+05:30

As children, books are usually harmless... Our parents usually choose which books we read. Since it's not really something we are investing much in, it doesn't matter how good or bad the books are.

A child does not have very high standards. Any book that is interesting stays with him through his life (atleast as a good memory), and any book thats not so good, disappears at some point, and he probably won't even notice. Of course some kids who are careless also lose the books they love, but it doesn't really bother them... they keep discovering new books...

But when you're older all this changes. You usually spend more time buying a good book. Only once in a while do you actually end up owning a book you have not chosen with care. Sometimes you buy strange books from the road side since they are cheap and not a big risk. Sometimes those unexpected books turn out to be winners, sometimes not.

But those are not the books I want to talk about today.

I want to talk about the books you buy after extensive research. The book with the lovely cover, the exciting back story, the book with the good reviews.... Maybe you spend a lot on that book. More than you thought you would.

And then after reading the book you discover you've been had. That it isn't worth 1/10th the cost.

What do you do with a book like that?

Do you throw it out? Remember you spent so much time and money on it.

Do you just keep it on your bookshelf? Keeping it on your bookshelf reminds you of how disappointing it was. Of how much you regretted buying that book.

I have a book I regret buying. I spent a lot on it. I thought it would give me a lot of happiness. And the beginning was good. But I'm nearing the end now and it's hard to keep reading... and once I'm done... there's still the problem of what to do with the book...

Things I liked this weekend...

2009-07-06T22:14:00.000+05:30

When I have a place of my own I will own...

Catchin' up...

2009-07-04T23:39:00.003+05:30

ok... where was I...

Hmm... after watching three seasons of Dexter, here's what's been keeping me busy...

Season 3 - Bones
Season 4 - Bones
Season 1 - Fringe
Season 1 - Highlander
Season 4 - House
Season 5 - House
Season 1 - Bones
...in that order.

In between I found time for...

the aftermath of Dad's bypass operation... (April 4th)
Sister's 21st Birthday... (May 13th)
buying a new tire for my bike...
sending my laptop for repairs and buying a netbook...
Downloading Dragon Speak Naturally 10 (since 9 didn't work) and actually getting it to work!!!...
a San Juao Rain dance...(28th June)
a good friend's b'day... (June 26th)
crazy SCR deadline at work... (May 18th to July 15th)...
Flat hunting in Pune... (seen 8 so far)...
Terminator 4
X-Men Origins: Wolverine
New York
Kambhakth Ishq
and many many downloaded movies which I can't go into...

ahhh....

now I feel better...

Dexter

2009-02-24T12:39:00.004+05:30

I've been busy the past 2 weeks watching Dexter. For those who haven't heard about Dexter, it's a tv series about a serial killer. It doesn't play here in India but I've heard about it from my friends so once I managed to get my hands on it I shut off the tv, cut down on my 'phone-time' and focused all my attention on it. The first season was the best I think. You felt connected to the characters (except Debra who is the most annoying character ever) and you enjoyed the denouement.

The second season left me conflicted. I don't like innocent people getting in trouble and the end of that season didn't really do anything to help. Also there was no real suspense. Definately the most boring season if it wasn't for Lila who apparently is the reason most of my male friends have been praising this show to the sky.

The third season, which I finished watching yesterday, changed the focus of the series a bit. It became less 'Dexter the serial killer' and more 'Dexter the character'. In the first two seasons it was the 'killing' part of the story line that got your attention. In the third season that became the background for Dexter's 'emotional journey' of sorts. Interesting, but not in the same way.

Overall verdict - Watch the first season.

uTorrent

2009-02-03T01:44:00.003+05:30

I was a big fan of Limewire. In fact somewhere in my archives I think there's a post called Limewire v. BitTorrent in which Limewire won hands down. Well I havent' been downloading for almost a year now. There just wasn't any space on my comp. Now with prices crashing I've bought lots of space and finally I can start downloading again.

I've started with Dragon Speak Naturally. And Changeling. Both took almost a day apiece. But now I'm down to the last 5 minutes... and soon I'll see if my patience has finally paid off.

And yeah... I'm using uTorrent now. N it's pretty neat.

Will watch the movie and review it tomorrow.

Ciao.

Last Chapter

2009-01-15T13:34:00.006+05:30

This is the final story in the set. The first three can be found by clicking on the 'Fiction' link on the left.

The only thing they have in common is my mood when I wrote them...

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last Chapter

This was the last chapter in the book. Ricky was determined to make it out alive. When they’d started out he’d been an insignificant character. But then the murders had started. And the characters had started to die, one by one. One or two in each chapter. But he’d made it. And he was determined to survive till the end. AND… he was also determined to be the guy that got the girl.

He frowned. Unless of course she turned out to be the murderess. No one else seemed to have noticed, but he’d had his eye on her right from the start and there were quite a few small indications here and there. Of course, at first his eye had been on her just because she was the most beautiful description around. Long silky hair, soulful eyes, a figure to die for… He sighed and tried not to get too engrossed in his dreams. That was the best way to get murdered around here. Be caught unawares and get a knife in your back.

He wandered out of the house. He’d just got a minor mention so far. The thought started worrying him. Maybe that was a warning. Maybe the next thing he knew he’d be found lying on the ground, dead.

He frowned. That didn’t seem right. How the hell would he know if he was dead?

He found his feet taking him towards the rose garden and brightened up immediately. SHE spent a lot of her time in the rose garden. That would be fun. He hoped the author would write the scene that followed. It was no fun being left untold. He couldn’t experience so many things because the author was trying to cater to a family audience.

If only he’d been a character in a porn book. Now that would be a rich field of experience.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Damn. Last he’d been walking towards the rose garden and HER. And now here he was back in his room. With her lipstick all over his shirt! A huge smile broke across his face. Apparently he’d finally gotten some action; but why oh why didn’t the author write it? Atleast he’d have had a memory to last him by even if he didn't wind up with her.

He showered and dressed, the smile still on his face. He was so engrossed in his thoughts he hardly heard the Butler knocking on the door. He went and opened the door and found that he was being summoned to a meeting downstairs. He hurried downstairs eagerly. New developments. Who was the new victim?

Downstairs the blue sitting room was full. The inspector had gathered together all the characters and the private investigator was about to launch into the denouement. Ricky shivered with anticipation, apparently he'd made it to the climax. He was standing at the end of the room. Not important enough to join the main characters up in front. But he was still happy just to be there. And then, before he could really start to enjoy himself, he heard the detective say that the Girl was missing. He felt a cold finger run down his spine. He'd been on his way to meet her. He'd woken up with her lipstick all over his shirt. The shirt that was still lying unwashed in the bathroom upstairs. What if this wasn't the climax after all. What if this was an attempt to mislead the readers. What if he was arrested and had to sit out the rest of the book in a prison cell until the real killer was captured... His worry for the Girl receded into the background as he started worrying about himself.

Then an even more horrifying thought struck him. What if he was actually the murderer. What if this book didn't have any scenes from the killers point of view, and the poor chap was going merrily about his life without realising what the author was making him do 'off-stage' so to speak. Ricky broke out into a cold sweat. He mustered up the courage to look directly at the detective and found that the detective was grazing steadily at him.

Panic stricken he muttered an excuse to the footman standing next to him and edged out of the room. He found himself hurrying upstairs, for the first time feeling like the helpless pawn that he was. He muttered angrily to himself, there was no point trying to flee. Only the killer would flee. He'd take that shirt and go down and talk to that detective. He'd tell him everything he'd observed and offer to help. A smile crept over his face. Maybe he'd become a major character now. If he actually did a real good job of it he might even be promoted to sidekick to the famous detective. He'd noticed that this detective was still working alone. Well it was only the second book of the series. It was the right time for introduction of a sidekick. He rushed to the bathroom and picked up the shirt from the laundry basket. As he straightened up he looked into the mirror in front of him just in time to see the knife come swooping down.

His last emotion was annoyance. Now he'd never know who the killer was...

HSBC Credit Card - Part Two

2009-01-08T23:06:00.004+05:30

Just a quick post to say that after a daily exchange of emails, (apparently sending an email full of expletives and threats of legal action works!) I got an email from HSBC today as follows:

We refer to your email message dated 06 January 2008 regarding your
credit card.

Regarding your query relating to annual fee, a Lifetime Free Credit card
would depend on the corporate tie up between HSBC and different
companies.

However, as a service gesture we have reversed the annual fee for INR
3000/- along with the service tax and the relevant credit will reflect
in the subsequent month statement.

We value your custom and request you to reconsider your decision to
cancel the card.

Please feel free to write to us if you require further clarification.

Yours sincerely,

Suman.A
Customer Service Executive
HSBC India

_____________________________________________________________

At which point I thanked them for the favour they seem to think they are doing me.

Pointed out that if I hadn't checked my statement I'd have been 3000 poorer like their other hapless customers

Asked how the hell I could return their cards and how long it would take.

And now I'm sure HSBC things everything's settled.

Yeah right! Their prompt action has taken them off the top spot on my hit list but they're there to stay...

HSBC Credit Card - Part One

2009-01-05T23:18:00.007+05:30

This is something I've got to share...

The sad saga started more than a year back. Some guy walked into our office and asked if we wanted LIFETIME FREE HSBC Credit Cards. I wasn't too keen but since everyone was applying for one I did too and soon I was the owner of a LIFETIME FREE HSBC Card. [The capitals are there for a reason.... read on]

I received a call even before I got the card saying that I would also receive a free add on card. I specifically said I DID NOT want an add on card. I mean, what would one of me do with 2 cards?

The person on the phone said okay, the add on card would be cancelled and yet after some time I found that 2 cards were delivered. I should have figured out how attention deficit they were right then. I would have refused the second card but I wasn't sure that it would be a good idea to leave the card with the delivery guy!

Anyway, I have no idea where the post office is so I never did send that card back. Why the hell should I have to pay and take trouble for their asininity.

-----

Fast forward a few months. I used the card a couple of times but found that it was a big hassle paying the dues. The card statements would come almost on the due date and then I'd have to scurry all the way to town since they didn't have any branches nearby. They also didn't have any cheque pick up facility... c'mon, how antiquated are they?!?

Anyway one time I was 1 day late with one payment. I was actually standing in their atm but could not pay since I didn't have my atm pin. So I'm on the phone with their customer executive and he's telling me there's nothing he can do to help me. Then the talk somehow turned to the fact that the card was a free card. I had this warning chill down my spine. I asked him point blank if I would have to suddenly pay something for the card. He asked when the expiry was I said towards the end of 2009. He said I might have to pay some charges then. I told him I didn't need a card and I'd sooner cancel it than choose to renew it.

Anyway, after that I got fed up with traipsing all over town to pay my dues so I paid them all off. In fact I paid about 172 bucks extra, and then I promptly forgot all about the damn thing.

Today I checked my email.. (thank you God)... and I found that they'd sent me a credit card statement. I opened it, something I'd ordinarily never do.... I mean why would I open a credit card statement for a card I haven't used for months. A card moreover where I have paid EXTRA!!!

But I opened the statement expecting to see what I'd seen last time... the pleasing sight of money owed to me by a credit card company.... BUT.... you know what's coming up right....
apparently I owed them 3000 bucks!!!!

I was shocked. My card was right in front of me. Had someone managed to get it out of my purse without my knowledge...

I frantically checked the details, only to find that they were as follows:

Membership fees - Rs. 2000
Add - on fees - Rs. 1000

I was furious at first. I called up their customer care line intending to rant and rave, but some poor SOB was lucky the damn thing was closed.

So I vented out my ire in an email.

Then I checked online and apparently this is a common scam of theirs. Promising "LIFETIME FREE" cards and then very quietly adding membership fees.

Now I feel it's my duty to see that someone who can't afford it doesn't become a victim.

So now... here I am... with a brand new 'new year' resolution... SCREW HSBC

Now I don't want their card or anything from them even if they paid me.

I'm strongly tempted to make a voodoo doll called HSBC and stick pins into it.

Christmas 2008

2008-12-25T16:06:00.005+05:30

Been in Goa less than two days but it seems like ages. Running around with decorations last minute, last minute Christmas shopping, midnight mass at Don Bosco's, it's just like almost every Christmas of my life.

And yet...so many things are different this year.

The deco was over really fast since we used an artificial fibre-optic tree this year. Till last year we kept up the tradition of driving to Campal, paying some guy to cut branches of pine trees, then dragging them behind the car all the way home n then struggling each year to find a new way of putting up the 'tree'. For the past few years we also used our new fibre-optic tree. This year finally we mutually decided that the new tree was good enough n no one missed the trek to Campal.

This year was the first time we were ready early for midnight mass.
This year we had to park far away from the chapel n stand in line to walk through metal detectors cos of the terrorist threat.
This year there was a new choir n though they did their best something just wasn't right.
This year my cousins were going to a dance n though they asked me to join them I preferred going home with my folks.
This year I'm on my way to Margao instead of sitting at home n entertaining all my friends who drop by.
This year I'm using my phone to surf cos we have visitors n I'm not getting any time to sit on my comp n take advantage of the great broadband speeds we get here.
This year I got a lot of Christmas gifts I really liked.
This year I gave a lot of gifts and realised I enjoy that even more.
This year I feel that I've outgrown who I was and I'm ready to be who I'll become.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Feni

2008-12-20T08:31:00.010+05:30

Found out something strange yesterday and just had to share.

For those who haven't heard of it, Feni is distilled liquor from cashews. It's loved by many, hated by even more, and Goa's most famous product.

For years Goans have been telling others about the 'undrinkableness' of Feni. The way it burns its way down your throat, the fact that it's the strongest drink around. For years Goans have stood back, watched as a non-goan took his first sip of cashew feni and then had a good laugh at the expression on his face.

Many Goan children are allowed a sip or two of feni at quite a young age as it's considered a miracle cure for colds and stomach upsets alike.

Yesterday I was chatting with a friend of mine (Suspect - for those who've been here before) and feni was mentioned. And he said he loved it. I was puzzled. How did an 18 year old Noida kid get a taste for feni. I knew he'd visited Goa once and figured that he'd tasted it then. But this trip of his was more than a year previously and was a 'family' vacation. I couldn't really see his parents giving him feni to drink!

Well I asked him about it and then the whole story came out... Apparently while I thought feni was safely at home in Goa its been kicking up its heels all over the place. It reached Noida! Thats not even one of the main metros.

Apparently feni is the drink of choice for anyone who wants to get drunk. It's 'cheap, great for getting drunk and tastes good with whatever cheap additive is around' in Suspect's own words.

According to Suspect, up north everyone is creating 'bastardized feni cocktails' with red bull / tetrapack orange juice / three week old coconut milk / and even pineapple juice!!

It's like a child I once knew grew up when my back was turned. And not only that, apparently the child has become a world traveller and is sleeping around with trash!

Feni, feni... roaming so far from home...

The Pillars of the Earth

2008-12-16T20:58:00.002+05:30

Ken Follett's best book is unquestionably the Pillars of the Earth.

I first read it around 10 years ago. I don't know why I ever picked up such a fat book. Guess I was so taken with 'Eye of the Needle' that I thought such a big book would be twice as good.

Well soon after I started I realised that this book was nothing like the other Ken Follett novels. This one had no spies, no cliff hangers, and yet... I kept reading. And when I finished I knew that one day, some day, I would buy the book.

I'd forgotten all about that thought, conceived so many years ago. But a fortuitous chain of incidents made me the owner of this 1076 page classic.

If you enjoy reading please go out and get this book. I thought I could no longer get lost in a book. This book showed me how wrong I was. I was away from my computer this weekend and I had a lot of catching up to do yesterday, BUT... I made the mistake of starting with the book. I didn't put it down till about 3 or 4 am. Today morning I was so engrossed in it I only realised the time when the driver gave me a buzz. I even skipped lunch just so I could focus on the book. And finally, it's finished. I can eat, drink and blog. :) Leave behind the 12th centuary and rejoin this one...

Damn.. now I wish it was twice as big...

Freedom of Religion

2008-12-09T21:55:00.003+05:30

I'm sick and tired of religion. And I don't care who knows it. I'm tired of the divisions it has caused, the pain it has brought, the barriers it has built.

Don't get me wrong. Religion has its strong points. It gives people a reason to be good, hope for a life after this one, a better life than this one.

But wait a minute. Is it religion that does all that or just belief in God?

As far as I'm concerned anyone who believes in God, believes in good and evil, and all the consequences that follow. All that religion should be, is the organised worship of that God. Not something that destroys the brotherhood of man.

Unfortunately, today religion has become a shortcut to war. I worship this way. So should you. Because of course God cares how we worship him. Just loving him and being good isn't enough anymore.

You don't believe in my God. And you follow such strange customs. Ofcourse you can't marry into my family. Though all of us are the children of one God, you call God by another name and he's so offended that he's excommunicated you.

I'm not letting my flat to those people. They have such disgusting habits.

I'm not working with that guy, he's a ______

All ______ can't be trusted.

I'm against the multiplicity of religions. And the ease with which new ones are created each day. Take Scientology for instance. Scientology is a way of life, a belief system, NOT a religion. And yet, because of the great privileges "religion" has, Scientology has happily carved itself a home under the umbrella of freedom of religion.

The concept of freedom of religion was created so that people could be FREE. Not forced into one particular mode of worship. And what it has become is something far different. An excuse for rituals and an excuse for rigidity. An excuse for finding fault and an excuse for intolerance.

People commit atrocities in the name of religion. Would the world be a haven of peace without religion? No, not particularly. Wars will always happens, neighbours will often fight. But at least no one would be insulting God by claiming to fight in His name.

What do we do next...

2008-12-02T20:18:00.000+05:30

3 points of view

2008-11-26T00:17:00.005+05:30

This is the third of a set of four stories I wrote over the past year and a half.

The first two are already up. They aren't connected so you don't need to read the other two, but if you want to, just click on the 'Fiction' label to the left.

Cheers!

______________________________________________________

Three Points of View

______________________________________________________

He walked slowly across the room. A man who looked twice as old as he actually was. He passed a mirror on the wall and grimaced as he saw his reflection. No wonder people shrank from him. Hollow cheeks, eyes too big for his face, he looked like a skeleton with skin stretched over his frame.

Maybe that’s why she’d killed herself. Tired of being married to a sick man. Tired of watching him die every day. In front of her eyes.

But the cops were so sure she’d been murdered... He shook his head angrily in disbelief. Murdered. Who’d want to murder her? It was ridiculous. He’d seen his fair share of murders when he’d been a young detective all those years ago. Greed, revenge, love. Those were the emotions that powered murders. And all three were absent here. Lydia had been penniless when they’d gotten married. Sure she’d get his money when he died but here he was. Alive and well. Ok, so maybe he wasn’t well, but he still was a long way from the grave.

Revenge? She was 23. Who could she have hurt so badly? Who could have been so angry at her to want to kill her?

That left love. He grimaced. That was probably on the cop’s minds from the moment they’d seen the body and met him. They were probably convinced she’d had a lover who’d killed her. Of course they wouldn’t tell him that. But that’s what they were thinking. He was sure of it. They’d paw through her personal diary and scheduler. Looking for evidence of an affair.

Lucky he’d found her diary and letters last night. Full of her love for him. Full of her sorrow at the lingering illness that would part them one day. He’d burnt them. The diary and every last letter. All her thoughts that she’d never intended to share with the world.

He smiled wistfully. If he’d ever doubted her love, reading the diary would have made him feel ashamed of himself. As it was, it had made him cry. A bitter reminder of all he’d had and all he’d lost.

He sat in his favourite chair and stared out the window.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Johnson looked across the room at the man in the easy chair looking out the window. A very poor actor. Trying to pretend he was grieving for his wife. Well they’d nail him. He was the only person with access to the apartment. None of the locks had been forced. Nothing was out of place. No unexpected fingerprints had been found. The poor fool had probably found out that she was planning to leave him. That must have been the last straw. Lucky the kid had blurted it out. Funny thing. A man with a 16 year old son marrying a woman of 23. The kid had been glad for his father’s sake until he found out that she was having an affair. He was so worried they’d think his dad did it; he’d gone out of his way to convince them that his father didn’t even know about the affair, not realizing that they themselves hadn’t known anything about it.

Funny the way things worked out. The kid had been trying to save his dad but had actually provided the missing link. The motive. Of course they’d look for a diary or something but he didn’t expect to find anything. She wrote regularly in her diary. That much he’d learnt from her friends and family. That was probably how the old man had found out. But he knew how these things worked. He’d probably burnt the dairy.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boy sat and watched the detective. What was he looking at? The boy couldn’t see. What was he thinking? The boy didn’t know.

Lydia was dead. He could hardly believe it. Lydia the bitch was dead. She’d taken his father away from him. His father would never have been as harsh as he’d become if it wasn’t for her. They’d refused to send him to the National academy of Drama. Said he’d be a terrible actor. And now they’d planned to send him away to military school. To instill some discipline into his life! Yeah right.

Well she’d gotten what she deserved. Now all he had to do was wait and watch. Anytime now the warrant would be issued against his old man. Based on his testimony. He would be shocked and horrified. He would run and hug his father and swear that he believed in his innocence. He would swear to do everything he could to free him.

He sat and prepared for the part of a lifetime.

-------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx----------------------------

Dostana sucks!

2008-11-24T21:35:00.003+05:30

I didn't intend to write this post until I read this. [I want to find the author of that review. I can't believe those are the views of a real live normal human...]

The only part of that review that I agreed with was that Abhishek Bachchan was fantastic. He was over-the-top and ridiculous and really great!!!

John Abraham is lucky he looks good, cos this movie proved once again that his acting range is limited to roles like Dhoom and Taxi 9211. He's terrible at making a fool of himself.

But that's not the worst by far. Your opinion of John Abraham will rocket sky high once you compare him with Bobby Deol. At least John Abraham has a limited acting range, Bobby Deol doesn't have any range at all. He can't act.

If you don't have to pay much, watch the first half. Don't bother with the second. It's not worth it at any price.

Airtel Broadband

2008-11-23T23:27:00.002+05:30

Ok, I'm sick and in bed but just had to post this...

My Airtel Broadband is up and running since yesterday.... the speed is decent so far.

May that continue....

Promotions

2008-10-28T11:37:00.003+05:30

I've been promoted. Good news anyone would say. I'm pretty happy about it, don't get me wrong, but the promotion unexpectedly brought home something I'd never realised.

I don't have a single person here in Pune who I'm very very close to and who will be happy for me no matter what.

There were many people who congratulated me and wished me well. But their words didn't mean all that much to me. They seemed to saying the words out of common courtesy and general rules of behaviour. No one here in Pune showed real jubilation. There are some people I'm close to. In particular a guy I'm going to call Axle. I'm sad when Axle is sad and happy when he's happy but I've not got a friend like that. Axle is too preoccupied with his own life and there's no one else.

To be fair I have to mention a guy I'll call Ray. Ray does seem to care. He's concerned, caring and seems truly happy for me. But it doesn't mean as much because it's something new. Time will tell if this concern and friendship will last.

So the day I got promoted I had no one to celebrate with.

While I've always known that it's important to have the people you're close to, with you to share your sorrows, this is the first time I've realised that joys don't count for much when you have no one to share them with.

EVANESCENCE - "My Immortal"

2008-05-14T08:48:00.004+05:30

I don't normally listen to lyrics. Usually when I like a song it's because it just sounds good.

However after some time I usually decide I should check what exactly the song is all about.

Here's the strange bit, many songs I've been listening to actually seem to apply to my life.

I've come up with three possible explanations for that:-

1. I'm so narcistic that I can link up any song I like to some part of my life.

2. I subconsciously gravitate towards songs that seem to be connected to my life, or that I fear will soon be connected to my life.

or

3. Listening to the songs again and again actually influences my actions so that I end up in the same situations in my life. Some kind of post hypnotic suggestion as it were.

Freaky.

Here's one such song and trust me no one would actually like this song to apply to their life.

___________________________________________________

"My Immortal"

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

[Chorus:]
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

[Chorus]

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

[Chorus]

Avril Lavigne - My Happy Ending

2008-05-13T09:27:00.002+05:30

I'm feeling very perky today for no good reason.

Maybe it's cos I've been listening to Avril Lavigne's "My Happy Ending".

With a little editing this song could say it all:

Oh oh, oh oh
So much for my happy ending

Oh oh, oh oh
So much for my happy ending

Oh oh, oh oh, oh oooooh....

Let's talk this over
It's not like we're dead
Was it something I did?
Was it something you said?

Don't leave me hangin'
In a city so dead
Held up so high
On such a breakable thread

......

All this time you were pretending
So much for my happy ending

......

It's nice to know that you were there,
Thanks for acting like you cared
And making me feel like I was the only one
It's nice to know we had it all
Thanks for watching as I fall
And letting me know we were done

......

All this time you were pretending
So much for my happy ending

Oh oh, oh oh
So much for my happy ending
Oh oh, oh oh
So much for my happy ending

Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh....
Oh oooooh....

Thank you Avril!

Birthdays

2008-05-09T13:16:00.002+05:30

Today is a collegue's birthday. She's become a pretty good friend over the past year but since my last birthday I find it very hard to rejoice over birthdays in general.

Guess I have too many bad memories.

I'm finding that it's not so easy to forget bad memories.
Everytime I think I've done it something comes up and the bad memories creep up and kick me where it hurts...

Nokia N82

2008-05-06T23:33:00.000+05:30

I bought the Nokia N82 yesterday evening.

I really wanted a camera phone. Went online and narrowed down my choices to the N82 and the LG Viewty.

Both have great cameras. The xenon flash of the Nokia is supposed to be marginally better than the Viewty's but the Viewty looks so much better. The N82 is virtually indistinguishable from its older, cheaper cousins.

The Nokia finally won cos of the gps.. which is really good, and even more cos it can be upgraded to 8 gb of memory while the best the Viewty can do is 2 gb.

And now that i've used it for 10 hours or so, since i've realised I can now blog from my mobile, since i've realised orkut is now accessible anytime anywhere...
I'm in love.

Friendship. . . of a kind

2008-04-29T10:52:00.004+05:30

Last week was the toughest week of my life, emotionally at least.

I realised friendship has different meaning to different people.
I learned that someone that I considered one of my best friends doesn't really care that much about me.
I realised that most people will only be friends with you when you're happy and gay and cheer them up.
I realised that your truest friends are those who will be there for you no matter how low and whiny you feel. No matter how much you cry and complain all day.
I learned that the only way I can protect myself from being hurt by friends is by drawing away so that I don't care for them more than they care for me.

The secret to any relationship for me would be balance.

I'm not one of those people who can carry all the weight of a one sided relationship, whether it is love, friendship or anything else.

And at the end of all this... nothing has changed on the surface. Anyone looking in at my life would say everything is the same.

But it isn't. I'll never be as naively happy as I was before.

2008-04-21T14:56:00.001+05:30

She sat at the window, her stomach churning. She could feel the storm building up. The air was full of it. She wondered where she would be when it hit town.

She heard the phone ring and her stomach clenched suddenly. There was another storm coming. But this one was in her life and whether she stayed or went away from town depended on how she handled it.

She tried meditating. Focusing on something other than the problem at hand made her body relax a bit though she could still feel the adrenalin coursing through her body.

Her body felt warm but her hands were freezing. Shock? Some chemicals overly sensitive people produced?

She didn't care. Her stomach was still flip flopping.

Something was coming. She wasn't quite sure what.

Appraisals!

2008-04-18T14:04:00.004+05:30

Appraisal time is here. And this is going to be my first ever 'proper' appraisal.

Or rather the time has come for everyone to find out the results of their appraisals. The actual appraisals were done in March. At that time I didn't have time to TALK to anyone, much less sit and update this blog. But it's all going to pay off now. Yippee!

I'm so excited. And just a bit worried. I've been building castles in the air the past few weeks and after endless discussions with others like me it seems that I have grossly over estimated the salary hike I'll be getting.

Not so good.

But who says they're right. I'll just cross my fingers and wait.

Almost everything else in my life is going to hell. This one thing has to be good. It... just... has... to... be... good...

-----------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't. (April 21st)

Quotes I love _ Faith

2007-09-18T19:28:00.000+05:30

These are two of my favourite quotes about 'Faith'

"Unthinking faith is a curious offering to be made to the creator of the human mind." ~ John A. Hutchinson

"In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't." ~ Blaise Pascal

Childhood

2007-09-13T19:29:00.000+05:30

People overrate childhood.

We passed a school today. Little kids in white PT uniforms were running inside probably scared they were going to be late. Everyone else in my cab had this fond, 'drooly' expression on their face. Fond memories they said.

What fond memories? Running to school worried that I was late? Worried that I wouldn't get there in time to melt into the background? Hurrying to be there in time for assembly. Half an hour of prayers, preachings, announcements, warnings. Singing the national anthem 5 days a week and the school anthem the sixth.

My day divided into 8 periods. Scurrying to complete the previous days homework. Realising with dismay that I'd left a book at home. Another remark on my calender. Third time unlucky, another walk to the principal's office where I would stand silently raging and promising myself that some day I wouldn't be that helpless. That someday I'd have more control over my life.

Forgetting to wear my white uniform on Thursdays. Having to stand in line for all the world to see. Feeling like an idiot for not remembering.

No control. At the mercy of people and their moods.
Adults and their moods.
Never sure exactly what was right and wrong.
And if it was wrong, WHY it was wrong.

I had a pretty good childhood. Good parents, a good life. I was pretty bright so I never failed in school. (Not that I was happy. Unfortunately I was in the top three in kindergarten and I even won a shield when I as in the first standard. That pretty much set the standard for the rest of my life. Once I was in the second standard, I never came in the top three again. So there I was at the age of 7, doomed to feel like a failure right through school.)

Yeah, I had a nice childhood but the difference between me and most people is that I remember it for what it was. I don't have a highly coloured version of my it running through my head.

I'm glad I'm not a child anymore.

Of lesbians and the Ellen DeGeneres show...

2007-06-21T16:05:00.000+05:30

Back in Bangalore after almost a year. Loads has changed. Made me sad. I don't like things changing behind my back. Love it when it happens right in front of me.

Atleast I think I do.

Oh well.

This isn't a proper post, just a comment I had to pass on the Ellen DeGeneres show. [If that's spelt wrong.... guess what, I don't care]

I've watched a total on maybe 20 minutes of the show so everything that follows is NOT a 'qualified' opinion.

The first day I watched about 15 minutes. Ellen struck me as a nervous self conscious wreck. She didn't speak confidently and in fact looked like she was up infront of an audience for the first time ever, with her eyes darting this way and that.
Then she started dancing! Or what passes for dancing. She ran up and down the stairs danced with a couple of women and then spread her legs and walked over a table... um.. I mean the table passed between her legs... or whatever.
Thats when I switched the TV off. I mean that table is so broad from one angle it looked like quite a feat except for the fact that she walked ?across? it from the other side.

The next day I switched on the TV again and was treated to the exact same scene. And it was not a repeat of the previous episode. I watched enough to make sure of that!
But trust me the dancing bit was exactly the same. The same running up the steps. the same dancing with an attractive woman (a different one this time). the same shimmying across that exact same table! C'mon!

I'm a little embarrassed to say I turned the TV off thinking only lesbians would enjoy her show. Very politically incorrect of me I know. And here I thought I didn't have any weird ideas about homosexuals in my head.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Speaking of lesbians... I think I met one the other day. I'm in Bangalore answering some exams and the very first day i got here I ran into a very friendly, very cute girl. For some reason I found myself wishing we were friends. Well I'm not so sure any more. I was watching TV in the TV room the other day and she came in and almost SNUGGLED up to me. I haven't told anyone this cos I'm sure they'll all say she was just being friendly but trust me I got this strange vibe from her.

One good thing that came of it is that I'm sure I'm not gay. Cos she is very cute and if I had any inclination that way I think I'd have felt something for her.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm back in Pune on Monday and somehow I'm not looking forward to it any more. Anyone who's been on the phone with me recently will find that strange cos all I've been doing the past 10 days is mourn about how much I'm missing Pune.
I think I know why the change has occured. Can't really go into it here but in brief there was a guy who intrigued me and I was looking forward to getting to know him, BUT... a couple of friends have since told me some stuff that's made me very ashamed of ever ebing interested in him. Why don't all shallow guys have some kind of sign printed to their heads? Why on earth do they have to act all deep and interesting and mysterious? Why am I always interested in all the wrong guys?

It would be so great if I grew up and started falling for nice safe guys.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[And T yes, I know I haven't corrected all the mistakes above. That's your job. Give me a list of the mistakes and I'll correct them... if I feel like it :) ]

A story in time...

2007-04-29T03:14:00.000+05:30

This is one of three short stories I wrote back when the electricity used to go out regularly at work. Now that we've shifted to a new office there's no chance of that happening.

Maybe that's a good thing. If they were pieces of paper, each would be more crumpled than the previous one. I could try and smooth them out but that wouldn't be any fun.

Disclaimer: I know two girls called 'Rowena'. This story has nothing to do with either of them. In fact after writing it I wanted to change the name, but somehow nothing else fits.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Rowena walked slowly home. There was no reason to hurry. Everything had been planned; everything anticipated. She stopped at the store at the corner from her flat and bought some crabs. Crabs were easy to make. Just boil them and they’re done. She knew John loved crabs. He’d complain about how long it took to eat them but… today he’d have a lot of time. The whole process of cracking the shell and removing the crab meat would probably soothe him.

Her thoughts continued to wander as she climbed up the stairs of her building. For once she didn’t think longingly of the other flat they’d considered buying on the outskirts of town. That had been on the 1st floor but John had pointed out that their 5th floor flat was quite a bit cheaper and closer to his workplace too. That would help them save quite a bit on fuel each month. And as for the stairs, he’d assured her that they’d adjust in less than a month.

It was almost a year now, and while he’d indeed adjusted in less than a month, Rowena still wasn’t sure if she’d ever adjust. Sure there were days when she’d run up and down but they were few and far between. Most days she dreaded the long slow climb.

As she reached her flat she shook her head in annoyance. She’d been determined to let nothing spoil her walk home. The last thing she needed to think about was all of John’s assurances and promises in their first few months of marriage. It wasn’t his fault. He was just a man. So full of good intentions that it left no room for understanding.

She washed the crabs and put them to boil with some seasoning. Soon they’d be done. All done.

She had a long slow bath. She’d been very fond of long hot water baths before marriage, but somehow she’d lost the habit in the months since. That wasn’t John’s fault. Was it? No. Not really. True he kept explaining that they would have to tighten their budget. True she often felt like a failure. But she couldn’t hold him responsible for the ways she’d punished herself, could she?

She shook her head again. Here she went again. Thinking about John. He was starting to take over her mind. Maybe love did that to you. For she did love him. So very much.

She dried herself and wore her best dress. With her very best underwear. Today of all days it wouldn’t do to wear something old and worn.

She laid the table, placing the dishes and cutlery with care. Everything had to be perfect. John would come in late as usual. Tired out from a busy day at work. He was so considerate. He wouldn’t even come into the bedroom because he knew she was a light sleeper. He’d eat his dinner, have a bath and read for a bit until finally he’d switch off all the lights and creep slowly into the bedroom where he’d crawl into bed silently so that she wouldn’t be disturbed. Well today she definitely wouldn’t be disturbed. She smiled at the thought.

The crabs were ready. She kept them in kitchen so they’d stay hot. Then she looked about the flat. Her home. She’d cleaned up earlier but she still went about re-checking everything. Everything had to be perfect.

Finally it was time for bed. She placed the bucket she’s bought by the left side of the bed and switched off the lights. Then she crawled in between the sheets as carefully as she could. She didn’t want to mess them up. There was still a little light coming in from the building next door. She didn’t mind. She knew that by the time John came home everything in the room would be pitch dark.

Then finally when everything was in place she looked around once more. She tried to think of anything she might have left undone. Nothing came to mind. So finally, happily, she placed her left arm over the bucket and carefully slit her wrist. It stung a bit, but the pain was much less than the pain she’d imagined. She threw the blade into the little dustbin that stood on her bed-side table and lay back. John wouldn’t be home for another four hours. By then everything would be over. Perfect.

Hmmm...

2007-04-29T02:53:00.000+05:30

There are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why.

--- William Barclay ---

The Feb that was...

2007-03-07T11:33:00.000+05:30

It's been almost a month and there's so much to tell and yet so much that has to remain untold. The trip to Bombay that I referred to in my last post went off really well. Loads of good memories; most of them work related. I met some really nice people and it was quite a wrench to say good bye at the end of the week.

I loved Bombay. Not for the reasons most people advance, but because if you could hit a pause button you'd find that it's a really beautiful place. Maybe it's just 'old' bombay that has this atmosphere. I don't know. But everywhere I went I felt like I was living with history. I saw the building my grandfather lived in when he was younger than I am now. It's amazing to walk the same paths people have walked over for centuries. I know that most cities have their own history but somehow in Bombay, with its decrepit buildings standing side by side with historic landmarks, you feel it more than you would in other places.

Coming back to Pune brought about loads of changes. Some of us were put in charge of some new joinees. My landlord got a better deal and gave my roommate and me just 2 days to find another place. We did a lot of walking around but didn't find anything even half way acceptable. Then like a miracle we found a place that seemed ok and we grabbed it. It's a pretty good deal but it's a bit in the interior which is causing other problems.

Also since I'm supposed to supervise the newcomers I don't feel like using the net at work for anything other than work. Trying to set a good example I guess. And since I'm usually not in the mood to connect to the net at home my email goes unread for days together. Lucky for me I have a friend who convinced me to take GPRS and then gave me software to access MSN and yahoo messenger on my phone. Now I'm connected almost all day though half the time the phone is on silent and I don't know when someone's IM'img me.

I've been feeling like writing these days. Short stories mainly. Maybe I'll put them up. Maybe I'll just ramble on like this. Guess it doesn't really matter as long as I'm a bit more regular here... :(

For all you people who used to read this blog regularly: Thanks. I'm still alive and so is this blog. Very busy and very cranky, but alive and well.

Thanks Peter!

2007-02-10T14:17:00.000+05:30

I now have internet at home on my laptop. All thanks to a guy called Peter who was intelligent enough, patient enough and persistant enough to talk me through the whole procedure of connecting to the net through my Airtel GPRS connection.

He doesn't read this blog. Pity. I'd have praised him until his ears turned red. As it is I now have a net connection and nothing to blog about. Life is fantastic.

Also this means that at the very least, I'll be able to check my email in Bombay. Maybe the trip won't be as bad as I thought it'd be :D

Off to Bombay

2007-02-09T15:47:00.000+05:30

Off to Bombay for a week. 11th to the 18th. A week when I'm expecting to be busier than I've ever been. A week in which I'll be expected to pay attention and focus, 12 hours a day. A week in which Valentines day will probably slip by unnoticed and hopefully unmissed [Yes I know that's not a word]. A week in which for the 3rd year in a row I won't be with my best friend on her birthday, though we're now roommates. A week in which I doub't I'll find time to check my email or read a book. A week in which I don't think I'll have time to meet any of my Bombay friends though I've been looking forward to that for months. A week in which hopefully my tolerance won't be stretched to new limits.

Though I'll have 9 others with me from the office, I have a feeling this week is going to be the loneliest week of my life.

I hate giving this guy attention but...

2007-02-06T13:59:00.001+05:30

Go read this.

You'll either howl with laughter or get really angry. I had a good laugh when I read it first cos I thought it was a joke. However by the time I went through the comments I realised that there is atleast a possibility that it's not a joke. I know people like that are supposed to exist. But in some way it feels weird finding them on blogger.

The way you make me feel...

2007-01-30T13:49:00.000+05:30

Been back in Goa the past two weekends but I didn’t get a chance to get on the net. Seems like every moment I spend in Goa has already been planned and scheduled. In fact I’m often double booked. Blame my ~~agent~~ mom.

Pune is very relaxing in comparison. Wake up, go to work, finish by 6 or 6.30 and then the day is yours. Watch a movie, read a book, call up a friend, or just sleep. Since I don’t have access to a kitchen I don’t even have to feel guilty about eating out every day. Life is good.

Another thing I like about being in Pune is that my continuous study of the male sex has got a big boost. My classification system is getting modified and refined. However right now there’s just one particular class that I’m curious about. Or rather I’m curious about the effect they have on me.

I’m quite comfortable around most men/boys. I won’t care a damn if my hair’s all blown about or if I’ve forgotten to wear any lipstick. I enjoy spending time with them. But… once in a while I see a guy who makes me feel very… feminine. It’s happens very rarely. But it does happen.

It’s hard to explain what I mean, but after my eye operation I wasn’t allowed to wash my hair for almost a month. In between I had to consult a new eye specialist and right before I entered his consulting room the last thing on my mind was how my hair looked. And yet… when I stepped in and looked at him, I forgot my eyes. I forgot to worry about whether they were healing on schedule, I forgot the restrictions I had to ask about; all I thought about was my unwashed hair and the fact that I hadn’t worn something attractive. And all this for a guy who didn’t even fit ‘my type’ and whose voice I’d not heard. [Those who know me well know how fussy I’m about voices.]

There are men like that. They might not look good, they might not be very ‘masculine’. They might even be metrosexual (Though I normally hate that term and what it implies). Their attractiveness lies in the way they make a girl feel. Feminine. Very conscious of the fact that she’s a woman and he’s a man. I’m not sure whether this is something some guys are born with or if it can be developed. I’m not even sure how many girls have felt something similar. Unfortunately further research has halted due to the scarcity of the subject matter.

I’m thinking about changing my eye doctor.

In Pune...

2007-01-11T11:54:00.000+05:30

I've been in Pune almost a week and this is the first time I've gotten near a computer. I'd have been really cranky if I wasn't having such a good time. :)

I'm living near the Pune station. Just a short walk away from INOX, Dholepatel road etc., and as anyone who's been to Pune would know, that's a nice place to be. My laptop is still in Goa. I was supposed to go get it this weekend but I have to go look over some flats this weekend, so I guess I'll have to do without it for another week. As for a proper Internet connection... that's a distant dream :(

Any Pune-ite who knows of a studio apt or a 1 BHK in the station area (and who's interested in being a good Samaritan) can find me here. Just leave a message and I'll get back to you.

I'm really missing all my online friends. I'll try and come online atleast once a week or so until I get a proper connection and I guess that will just have to be enough. It's really time I adjusted to living a normal life instead of focusing so much on the Internet. By the time I get a proper net connection I hope to have found a way to balance both. So much to do so little time. Life is good. :)

Seasons greetings...

2006-12-26T09:58:00.000+05:30

My Christmas's over the past few years have uniformly sucked. This year I decided I'd quit whining about what I couldn't have and make this Christmas really special. And I tried. I really did. But Christmas was Christmas as usual. Some nice moments, lots of hard work, and an amazing display of the power your family has to affect your mood.

That said, this Christmas was special for many other reasons. So many things have become clearer over the past few days. So many questions I've had, have been answered. Unexpectedly. Beautifully.

I don't normally write about religion. I do believe that everyone needs to believe in something, but that's for each one to find for themselves.

But this is Christmas. And I need to say this...

The world is going to hell and God isn't interfering. And I can understand His viewpoint. Most people today don't want him and don't believe in him. And as the world steps away from God, I can picture him sitting down resignedly and watching sadly as everything gets messed up. And I feel so sorry for Him. It must be so hard to see your baby turning away from you and telling you to keep out of his life. Because though the scrapes and cuts your baby gets when he's playing games with his friends don't matter in the end, it's hard to watch him fall and cry while you just stand by.

So this Christmas I'm praying for a little interference and a little meddling in my life in the year ahead. My life needs it.

This one is for the girls... especially for me...

2006-12-21T01:08:00.000+05:30

After this post, I intended to write a companion piece to give some advice to all the girls I know. I held back because I truly believed it would be useless. Most girls who need advice are those who'll never take it and I include myself in that category. While I'm normally sane and reasonable, I've been known to fall crazily in love in the past. [Emphasis on crazy] At times like that my common sense deserts me and I'm convinced that though everything everyone says is right, my case is different. Of course my case is different. Everything I've told everyone else a hundred times couldn't possibly apply to me. Could it?

Well now when I'm all sane and balanced and definitely not in love, the answer is a very clear YES, IT COULD. SO I'm writing this post for myself. So that IF I'm ever blind and deaf to everything my friends tell me, I can come back to this post and get a virtual kick on my butt.

1. If you're sad more than you're happy, the relationship is NOT worth it. He may be a sweetheart. Really. But no matter how nice he is, if you are not happy then walk away and find someone who can make you happy and let him go free to find someone who's more suited to him.

2. Don't blame the 'other' girl. [This one I haven't been guilty of so far but I've seen it happen far too often.] If your husband / boyfriend / fiancé isn't as faithful to you as you'd like him to be, lay the blame at his door. Don't say "it's all that bitch's fault. She chases him, etc, etc" There'll always be people out to cause trouble. There'll always be women who'll tempt him and men who'll tempt you. The responsibility for being faithful is his and yours alone. DON'T blame the third party for YOUR bad choice. Because that's what it comes down to. Choice. Choose someone who doesn't betray your trust the first chance he gets. If your boyfriend or fiancé does cheat on you, thank your lucky stars that you found out in time and MOVE ON! There'll be someone better out there. Almost anyone would be better than a cheater after all.

3. Never ever be in a relationship with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself and keeps running you down. If he meant it as a joke but it upset you, then tell him and ask him not to do it again. If he does it again and then says he was joking and that you're not a good sport, the relationship will survive only in two ways. Either you consciously decide to toughen up so that you no longer feel bad about what he says, or else he agrees to lighten up on the criticism. Nothing else will work. In the long run, comments that make you feel bad about yourself, will kill your spirit.

4. Try and have your own life. Try and have your own friends. If you're used to having a lot of male friends, don't suddenly cut them out of your life just cos you're in a relationship. You can't expect your partner to replace all your friends. He'll be in over his head and desperate for air in no time at all.

5. Decide which principles you CAN'T compromise on and make the rules you live by very clear. Be flexible about all the rest. Respect his rules and his principles too. If they clash with yours, then you're going to have some serious problems. It's easy to compromise verbally, but when push comes to shove, if the issue is something you're really passionate about, then it may be best to go very slow or call it quits right in the beginning, when it's easier to walk away. Don't bury your head in the sand like an ostrich and then wake up a year later realising that it's still bothering you.

6. DON'T EXPECT MIRACULOUS CHANGES AFTER MARRIAGE!!! I've seen many girls who've put up with crap, confident that life would be better once they're married. Well so far I've haven't seen any miraculous changes after marriage. Small changes here and there, yes. People who show their adaptability before marriage may change quite a lot after marriage. But people who're stubbornly clinging to something all through the courtship period before marriage are probably not going to be reformed afterwards.

7. Don't ask for more than you're willing to give. It wouldn't be fair and could lead to built up resentment over time. Vice versa, if you're feeling resentful cos you're giving more, then just take a break and stop being such a carpet for him to walk over. Most of your sacrifices are probably unasked for. In fact they may pass totally unnoticed. That DOES NOT mean (a)you should do something he never asked you to do and then (b) tell him about it and (c)expect him to do something equivalent. If you want to do something for him, do it out of love. When you are feeling angry or resentful, stop doing it.

8. Keep any promises you make and watch and see if he keeps his. Trust is the bedrock of any relationship and it's earned by your actions every day. Don't lie to him, even about the small things. If you don't want to talk about something, avoid the topic. But never ever lie. Because when you're caught, things will never be the same again. This applies equally to both, so notice these things. I don't care how dreamy things may be at first. If he lies to you, MAKE A NOTE OF IT. It's best to be alert about these things right at the start. You wouldn't want to wake up 5 years later realising that you can't depend on the guy you've just wasted half a decade on.

9. Take him at his word. Most guys are very literal. If he says he's not sure then HE'S NOT SURE. If he says he needs time to think about the relationship then HE'S NOT SURE. This is a good thing, as long as you don't allow your rose covered dreams to influence what you're hearing. If he says he's not ready for a relationship and needs time, then take him at his word. If you are willing to take the relationship at his pace then don't bitch about it everyday. Wait a reasonable amount of time. If things are not working you always have the option to walk away. If you think he's already had enough time to make up his mind then you can always say "sorry, but I think I have to move on."

10. This one is pretty much covered by the previous ones but I just had to say it again. YOU CAN ALWAYS WALK AWAY. Too many girls I know (and I've done this myself) stay in a bad relationship just out of habit and affection and yes, sometimes out of love. We have to remember that we're choosing our own life everyday. We're choosing to be miserable. We're choosing to get hurt. We're choosing to close ourselves to all the wonderful guys out there by remaining stuck in bad relationships.

Because that's the truth. There are so many wonderful guys out there. Guys who can make you smile. Guys who can be both, men you can rely on and boys who'll make you laugh. Guys who'll let you grow and who will grow with you. Who'll encourage your secret dreams and who'll make you feel like a part of them. I've always wanted a love that I didn't have to question. A love that was without any doubts. And there are many guys out there who are capable of such love. No one should have to settle for less.

Life is a choice. When you wake up some morning 20 years hence and look at who's lying next to you, I hope you'll find that you have a smile on your face. With that picture in your mind look long and hard at the guy in your life today. Have you chosen well?

Bitterness

2006-12-18T01:22:00.000+05:30

I'm tired of bitter people. I'm tired of trying to cheer them up. Fine. So I'm a happy person most of the time. That does not mean I have an inexhaustible amount of cheerfulness stored in me. That does not mean that some one can be bitter and sarcastic and not affect me.

I don't mind sad people. I feel bad for them but it doesn't drain me.

I don't mind sarcastic and funny people who think life is crap but who don't really give a damn. They'll just have fun in their own way. You won't find them moaning and looking enviously at others. You won't find them thinking the words "if only" a hundred times a day. They may smile at you mockingly but they have no bitterness in their eyes.

What I can't take any more are those souls out there who have been given a bad deal by life (or so they believe) and who refuse to ever forget it. And they refuse to let you forget it. Ever!

They give you a smile that tries to say "Look at me. Look how bravely I'm facing these trials life has thrown at me." Any chance they get they'll refer to the rough deal they're facing. Any attempt to cheer them up is met with "of course you wouldn't understand. You don't understand how the real world is. You think it's a good place. Well, you'll learn in time."

Bitterness is a futile feeling. A feeling of pain that often is twice as bad as the the pain that originally caused it. Hope can help you overcome it. But hope will find it tough to survive without the right atmosphere.

Like I said, there are those who'll say I don't know anything about it...

Well I have news for you, all you bitter, pathetic people out there. I may not have gone through the exact same crap you have gone through but I've gone through my fair share. And while there may be days when I cry, and there may be days when I want to sleep and never wake up, there are always other days. Better days. Days when life is good and clean. And if you try you can make the days balance out. But you have to try. You can't sit back and wait for life to make you happy. You have to grab every little bit of happiness life gives you. And you have to soak in it. Even if it's just a little drop of happiness,.. taste it, feel it,.. make much of it. That's the way it'll be entered in your memory. Then when things aren't so good you can take it out, unfold it carefully, and it'll help you carry on just a bit longer.

It'll help that little something called 'hope' survive in hostile territory.

And it'll make life a lot easier for those who care about you.

My Goth Name...

2006-12-15T02:06:00.000+05:30

Proof that I've got too much time on my hands...

I went here and found out that my Goth name is Beautiful Nightmare

I'm not even sure what a Goth is but I'm ready to join them immediately! Any group that calls me a beautiful nightmare has earned my loyalty.

LASIK surgery

2006-12-13T23:09:00.000+05:30

Back after more than a week... but with a really good excuse...

I had an eye operation.

See, told ya it was a good excuse.

So ok, the operation actually took just 10 minutes. 5 for each eye. So what? I've got to follow loads of special routines for one full month. ONE FULL MONTH.

The procedure is also known as:
1. Refractive surgery
2. Corneal reshaping
3. Vision correction

The past week has been hell. No reading/writing/watching t.v./using the computer/using the gas stove/washing my face...

Yes, I've had to wash my face in secret. So my mom doesn't see me. Because even if I try n explain that I'm just washing the bottom half of my face she'd just run on and on about how reckless I'm being. About how I shouldn't take chances. After I've already taken a really big one.

Lasik surgery is very safe. BUT... well there's always the chance that you could go blind if there's some instrument failure or through that good old standby - human error. And she didn't mind me taking a chance on that. Mother's!

Anyway, everyone's been demanding a special come-back post. I thought about writing about my fascination with guns/swords/bikes/guys who ride bikes/shaved heads/relationships/the purpose of life/inappropriate humour/death/sex/religion and ofcourse that old favourite - love.

But (yes,yes, heave a sigh of relief) I decided to stick to a very practical post for once. This is going to be a mere recital of how the surgery was carried out. Or as much as I could figure out. Every operation is shown on a T.V. screen outside the operation theatre so my folks could probably explain the whole thing a little better. I did try to watch an operation the day after mine, but my eyes kept tearing up. I think they didn't want to be reminded of the abuse they underwent. Or maybe it was just the strain of looking at the T.V. screen.

Ok, after running loads of tests the first day i was sent home with instructions to wash my hair and do everything I might want to do to my eyes. I'm not kidding. One doctor told me to do my eyebrows. Huh!

The next day they ran most of the tests again. I'm not sure if they thought my eyes would change overnight or if they didn't trust their equipment. I don't like either possibility.
They made me wear a green tie-around robe over my clothes and put plastic bags over my feet and my hair. (Maybe they weren't exactly plastic bags but that's what they felt like and I wasn't wearing my glasses so...)

Then they put anesthetic drops in my eyes and made me wait for the doctor. (Those drops really made a difference. I'm not sure how much actual pain they prevented but just thinking about them helped me convince my eyes they shouldn't be able to feel stuff they insisted on feeling.)
The damn chair didn't have arms and I was really surprised to find that I'd actually fallen asleep waiting for the doctor. The doctor was a really nice guy. The kind of guy who makes you scoff at the chance of the human error I mentioned above. Anyway, I was finally lying on the table, positioned properly under the machine, tucked in like a mummy. Then they covered my left eye and all I could think was 'just a few seconds, that's all it takes'.

They were very fast, I have to say. First they told me to hold my right eye open and they covered it with a clear plastic sheet/wrapper of some sort. My eye closed despite myself but they didn't seem to mind. I found I could still blink under the wrapper and I thought they'd have to do it again but the doc just started cutting through the plastic. It was scary enough when I was lying there, it was worse watching it on the T.V. the next day. I haven't seen scissors so close to an eye before.

Then he told me to focus on the pin point of green light above and told me I might feel some discomfort. I kept telling my eye it had been anaesthetised but I could still feel the pressure as he pressed down at the edges. As I saw the next day he'd put something round around the eyeball to prevent my eyelids from closing. Not a pleasant experience. My eyes started getting all teary immediately. I didn't know what he was doing the next minute but my folks said that's when he used a little brush or instrument of some kind to clean the surface of the eye.

Then came the worst bit. I saw it the next day and it looked almost as uncomfortable as it felt. The doctor told me to look straight at the green light and when my pupil was centered he put a suction thingy right over my poor pupil. It actually wasn't very uncomfortable when he did it to my right eye but but when he did it to the left eye, I had to focus pretty hard on the anesthetic drops.

After the suction came the best bit. The doctor had to cut a flap in the top layer of the cornea. This flap would be folded back so that the laser could be applied directly to the third layer. They'd warned me that everything would go black as the cut through and I'd expected to be scared but I can honestly say that I wasn't scared at all. My poor eye was so tired of all the bright lights and of being forced open that it was a relief when everything started to go black. It seemed to take quite some time and when they finally lifted the flap back and I could see again my eye was a bit rested and ready for what came next.

The next bit was the main part. I had to stay focused on the red light of the laser. Once or twice my eye started drifting but the doctor was a sweetheart and he kept telling me how well everything was going. It's so very hard to stay focused on one little light when your eyes are forced open. It's so damn tiring.

Anyway, getting back on track, the laser reshapes the thickness of the cornea by burning bits of it so I also had to put up with the burning smell. Again, they'd mentioned it before otherwise I'd have had a fit. In a way I enjoyed the burning smell. It seemed to carry with a it a promise that the whole ordeal was almost over.

After the laser bit my eye muscles were so tired of focusing on the red, I didn't really care what they did next. They put the flap back and then flushed my eyes with some liquid. I know I said the suction was bad but in a way this might have been worse. The liquid was so irritating I hardly noticed when they removed the clamp. I shut my eye and before I had time to let out a sigh of relief, they'd covered it and were moving on to my left eye.

The laser bit on my left eye seemed to take much longer because I focused so well, the doctor didn't stop at all. My folks said the left eye was faster but it seemed to take a looong time because the doctor stopped all his encouraging prattle, making me wonder if I would be blind in one eye and if he was just trying to cover up some horrific mistake he'd made!

After the operation he told me I could open my eyes and walk out of the theatre. Yeah right. I opened my eyes and wished I hadn't. The rest of the trip home was a blurry uncomfortable mess. Everything was too bright. Everyone was too loud. All I wanted was to curl up in a hole and sleep. Even after I went to sleep I had to wake up every hour for the eye drops.

And then at 4 in the afternoon after my dad put the drops in, I opened my eyes and all at once I knew it had been worth it after all. No irritation, no discomfort. Just a red mark on each eye that will take some time to fade. Life is so good.

Last Resort - Inside my head...

2006-12-03T17:35:00.000+05:30

Voltaire said it best, "To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only the truth".

Ever since I first came across that quote, I've been impatient with people who worry about 'speaking ill of the dead'. I'm not suggesting that one should go around exposing a dead person's secrets. All I'm against is the 'hushing up' that families do to protect themselves, all in the name of the dead.

Suspect wrote a story in memory of a girl who died tragically and unnecessarily. Twice in the past I've been sure that I was going to drown. They say there are three stages to drowning. Fear, Anger and Acceptance. I don't know if that's true but I've felt both the fear and the anger. Death is something I think about a lot and after reading the story I wanted to know what I would be thinking in her place.

This is my version. There's anger and fear but I found I couldn't follow her thoughts right till the actual act. It's entirely fictional. But written exactly as the thoughts unfolded in my mind.

-----------------------------------------------------

I wonder if this is it. Is this the whole deal. This is it??? What the hell is life supposed to be for?

I wonder if they’d feel sorry when I’m gone. Will they wish they’d noticed me. Damn them all. Everyone’s so involved in their own stupid lives. They think I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be fine. I have 2 parents. I’m being educated. I have a home. I have enough food. Of course I must be fine.

I’ll show them. I’ll make them sorry. All of them. I’ll do it when they’re due back in an hour or so. Mom will come back first. She’ll call out. I won’t answer. I’ll be swaying in the breeze. Ha! That’s funny. She’ll get annoyed. I must be lazing around. Ignoring her while she calls. She’ll show me. Ungrateful me. I don’t appreciate all my blessings. What a child I am. Never thankful, never showing them that I understand how much they give me everyday.

She’ll climb up. Cursing on each step. Anger giving her the energy to climb, where she never would otherwise. Where’s that girl. If she’s awake and just pretending she can’t hear me… Ungrateful wretch.

She’ll push my door open. That’s why I’ll have shut it. So that she doesn’t see me from the stairs. She’ll push the door open… and then what? I can’t see further than that. She’ll try and cut me down I suppose. Quietly. By herself. So that incase it’s not too late, no one comes to know. She won’t be able to. I’ll be too heavy. Not like the pretty, delicate girl she would have wanted. My neck will be stretched. Like a chicken. The bones will have snapped. I hope they snap. If they don’t snap, it’ll be s..l..o..w.

I don’t feel so good. I don’t want to think about that. Much better to think about mother finding me. Will she cry? Just one pure cry of grief. Without wondering what people will say. Without hating me for doing it. Will you cry mummy? Will you hold my cold feet and cry all over them as I hang there. Or will you run out of the room. Reluctant to look at my dead body. Reluctant to face a girl who was so so weak. Despising me.

No. Surely you’ll cry. Please cry for me mummy. Please please. Please think of how much you loved me though I was never as good as others. Though I made you ashamed of me. Though I failed. If I don’t do this then I’ll disappoint you again. I can’t bear to see the way you don’t look at me. The way you both avoid me. Pretending, hoping that you could close your eyes and make me disappear. Dad says he can’t face anyone. That they ask how I did. And that he has to look away as he answers. He seems to think I wanted this to happen. That I was playing the fool. I wasn’t mummy. I swear. Will you believe me when I’m dead? If I write it in my last letter to you? I’m just stupid. I’m just not smart enough. I’m just. not. good. enough.
I’m not like both of you. Mummy will you forgive me for not being as smart as you and dad. I tried. I really did.

It’s not fair of you to punish me for not being as good as you hoped. It’s not fair. I bet you’ve often wished I wasn’t your daughter. That you had no daughter. Definitely not one like me.

Well you’re getting your wish aren’t you. Satisfied now?

Dad will reach home. Mom will hear the door opening downstairs. She’ll run out of the room and shriek. Tell him to come up fast. Look what She’s done. She’s… shes…

He’ll come up. Running. Feeling cold. What has She done. Everything ruined. Feeling faint with horror.

He’ll enter the room. And that will show him. He’ll know that it’s all his fault. Her fault too, but she’s too stupid to know that. Or maybe she’s just too weak to admit it.

Or maybe they’ll just blame me. Maybe they’ll be all smug and sanctimonious. We gave her everything… how could she do this to us… Yeah. That will be their line. But even if people say I was mad some of the mud will stick to them too.

Yes. Some of the mud will stick to them too. I’ll do it. Damn them all.

-----------------------------------------------------

IFFI 2006

2006-12-02T03:52:00.000+05:30

IFFI is almost over. As expected I started enjoying it after it crossed the halfway mark. I'm like that. Nothing tastes good until it's almost over.

I saw Borat, Mirch Masala, The Shadowless Sword, Beerfest and Alexandra's Project so far.

Borat... can't really say anything about it. Go watch it.

Mirch Masala - This I could write pages about. But I'm not going to. I went in for it expecting a light hearted 'popcorn' movie. I'd just got the movie summaries and I didn't have time to read about it. (to all Indians reading this... Doesn't Mirch Masala sound like a lighthearted flick?) It's based on fictional (?) events during British rule and it's NOT lighthearted. I would have walked out if I wasn't so curious to know what happened at the end. Unfortunately though I watched the full thing, I'm still not sure what we're supposed to understand by the last bit. The director was answering queries at the end of the screening and I really wanted to ask him how the story ended. I didn't because everyone else seemed to get it. Don't watch it unless you like movies with a 'message'. But if you do watch it, or if you've seen it before... please tell me what we're supposed to assume happens at the end.

The Shadowless Sword - A Korean movie. Nice for those who like sword fights and kung fu. Luckily I love sword fights and kung fu because there wasn't much else. Yeah, and the lead guy was kinda cute.

Beerfest - Go watch this. It's described as Fight Club with Beer. I normally hate beer but I walked in a little thirsty and by the time it was half way through I would have given almost anything for a chilled beer. I think it was the scene where the guy was drowned in beer, that did it.

Alexandra's Project - Damn. hmmm... Rolf De Heer is the director. They're running a special 'retrospective' on certain directors and he's one of those selected. All his movies are running packed. I had to stand in line for 90 minutes to get in for this one and I think more than 50 people who were standing in line for almost an hour were turned away.
It's a slow movie interspersed with shocking moments that keep your eyes focussed on the screen. The end was very very annoying because practically, there's no way it should end that way. But that's just my opinion . In the world of 'arty' cinema I'm sure it was fantastic. All in all... watch it if you can.
Warning for the prudish: Quite a bit of full frontal nudity.
Warning for the squeamish: Attempt to pierce nipple with pin shown in detail. I'm not sure just how it was done because I was squirming in my seat and my eyes kept shutting involuntarily despite my best efforts.

This makes me laugh each time I read it...

2006-11-28T15:35:00.000+05:30

If you've read everything on this page before, go read the post titled 'Made In India' (Posted Nov.27th).

Happiness Is A Warm Gun.

2006-11-26T04:04:00.000+05:30

Suspect has finally put up his version of a story I wrote a few posts back. Go read it here.

But it hurts so bad I can't take it any longer...

2006-11-26T03:45:00.000+05:30

When you cry until you can cry no more.
When you feel like you'll never be clean.
When you lie awake in the dark wishing you knew if you are healed.
When you face is puffy and your eyes are red and you feel like you'll never feel good about yourself again.
When you wonder if you'll ever be worth the effort.
When you wonder how long you can depend on the mercies of relative strangers.
When you want to feel physical pain just so you stop thinking.
When you'd give anything for a hug.
When you listen to the same two sappy 'girlie' songs again and again just because they help you cry.
When you'd give anything for a shoulder to lean on.
When you're needy, whiny and desperate.
When you're least attractive.
When you are not worthy of being loved by someone good.

That's when you need love the most.

And when there's no one around, that's when you turn to God.

I prayed for love and got peace. That ain't such a bad deal...

Moi = IFFI delegate

2006-11-25T10:41:00.000+05:30

I am officially a delegate for IFFI. That's the International Film Festival of India. Me. A delegate. I wonder who accepted my application. I wonder why they accepted it. I'd applied for myself and my dad at the last minute on a whim. Dad's application has been turned down. Again I wonder why.

Oh well, now I'm faced with bigger problems. The delegates can go watch movies for free. All well and good, unfortunately no one I know is a delegate this year. And as those who know me will vouch, I've never gone for a movie alone. At the same time there's no way I'm going to let that delegate pass go to waste, so guess this is going to be another first.

-> Stand in line with strangers.
-> Mournfully note that all the cute guys are accompanied by girls.
-> Ignore perverts who try and brush past unnecessarily close.
-> Glare at those who try to do more than brush past.
-> March into the theatre with the glare fixed to my face so that people don't think they can walk over me.
-> Search for spot between some women.
-> If I can't find a spot like that look for kids or guys my age or younger. They're easy to handle.
-> Avoid old men like the plague. You can never be sure what they're up to.
-> At the end of the movie wait for the crowd to thin out before leaving so as to avoid pinches and pokes.
-> Congratulate myself on having seen a movie alone.

Yeah... the benefits of being single...

moving away...

2006-11-22T21:47:00.000+05:30

Warning: This contains a lot of whining. You might prefer to skip to the end of the post.

------------------------------------------------------------

I got my appointment letter today. Yet another part of my life is over, another begins. I don't know exactly when I'll have to join work. Hopefully I'll be able to spend Christmas and New Year here in Goa. Everybody spends Christmas and New Year in Goa. I wouldn't have been worried but apparently there's some training I have to go for first. I guess they'd love to get a head start by finishing our training in December itself so that we could start work in January. Anyway I guess it'll sort itself out.

As long as I can remember I've been glad to leave home. Every college tour I went for, I used to be miserable at the thought of coming back home. When I moved to Bangalore I never really felt home sick. I enjoyed my life in Bangalore. I enjoyed the freedom I had and the knowledge that I could do exactly as I pleased. And yet, I'm not the kind of person who's happy in any one place for long. After little more than a year I was bored of Bangalore and when my mom fell sick I was glad to come back home to help out.

This time... I haven't even left home and I'm already feeling guilty. Feeling guilty cos I hate the thought of deserting my parents. I know it's normal for children to move away and though this isn't the first time I'm doing it, somehow as I grow older the guilt increases. I suppose it's because I'm conscious of the fact that my parents are also older this time around. They deserve to have someone at home to look after them. They deserve to rest after all their hard work all these years. But I can't live at home any longer. It's stifling me. The ideal situation would be to live in Goa but separately. That's not going to happen. Even if I found a good job here (impossible task) the concept of someone living in his/her own apartment when there's a 'family residence' is something that hasn't caught on here. Both sons and daughters are expected to live at home and travel to work atleast until they get married. Well I have no plans to marry anytime soon and I can't stand the idea of moving right from one family to the next without some free time.

So to get my space I have to move to another city.

And yet I feel guilty. I know I don't do as much as I could about the house but even the little I do will be missed. I wonder who'll keep the peace when I'm not around. I wonder who'll help mom cook. I wonder who'll help dad with the chores. I wonder who'll help my sister with her projects. I wonder if my dog will be alive much longer. I hate the thought of missing his last years. I wonder who will fuss over the cat everytime he cries. These past few months he's gotten used to sitting outside my bedroom and crying till I let him in. Will he continue to sit outside my empty room? Whenever there's a computer problem I won't be around to help. Whenever my folks have some silly queries about their mobiles I won't be around to answer. Whenever my mom needs someone to listen or dad needs someone to talk to, I'll be almost 500 kms (300 miles) away.

But in the end what I feel doesn't matter. Thoughts may lead to actions but if they don't, they won't mean anything to anyone besides yourself.

Either way who gives a shit.

------------------------------------------------------------

Suspect has written an adaptation of the story below and it's really good. He's trying to convince me to put it up here but I think it belongs on his own blog. If I succeed in convincing him, it'll be up on his blog on Sunday. Otherwise it'll eventually come up here.

Suspect has rewritten it with the focus on what fascinates him the most. No prizes for guessing what that is.

Woozie if you want to rewrite it with guns, go ahead.

If anyone else feels like producing another version, feel free to do so. If it's not too long and if you want me to, I'll put it up or link to it or something.

The simpler choice...

2006-11-19T22:07:00.000+05:30

I'm finding it tough to write posts these days without getting too personal, so I thought I'd write a bit of fiction to keep the cobwebs away from my blog. Enjoy. Or not.

------------------------------------------------------------

Mary woke up and scrambled out of bed. It was Ryan's 8th birthday and she wanted to be the first to wish him. She was almost 6 years older than him and loved him almost as a mother would. His real mom was a pale shadow in their lives. When her dad had first introduced her to them, she'd been 9. Terrified that her papa would love the little boy more. Terrified that she'd have no one left to love her. Looking back from her vantage point she wanted to laugh at herself. Her father wasn't capable of loving anyone. But Ryan had turned out to be the most precious thing in her life. Smart, funny and loving, he'd turned to her almost from the start. His mother had seemed totally apathetic about it. As if it didn't bother her that her only child was more interested in spending time with his new step-sister than his own mother. She was a tiny woman. Mary was already taller than her and twice as strong. Things had worked out. They usually did.

Mary had taken charge over Ryan the way she would one of her dolls. She learnt to feed him, bathe him and put him to bed every night with a new story she would make up just for him. His mother had receded into the role of cook, house keeper and babysitter for the time Mary had to spend in school. Her father was a vague presence about the house. They were quiet when he was around. Life was simpler that way. When they crossed paths he seemed to feel polite conversation was a must. He'd ask Mary about school and pretend to be interested in her answers. Mary was polite to him. Things were simpler that way.

But today was different. She woke up Ryan with a kiss and helped him dress. Today was a very important day. She'd heard Them talking almost a week ago. His mom. Her dad. Talking about how maybe they should live apart for some time. How they shouldn't rush the divorce. Then she heard Her say, "I won't move out until after Ryan's birthday. Let's pretend everything is ok till then". Mary had gone to bed that night wondering what she could do to stop them. Not that she cared about the divorce of course. But she would not leave Ryan. Maybe she and her dad could keep Ryan, or maybe she could go with him and his mom.
The next day when her dad was at work she asked Her about it. The only reply she got was a lecture about listening at doors. Then suddenly She'd said, "I'm sorry Mary. What you're suggesting isn't possible dear. But don't worry, you'll see Ryan very often. We won't be moving far away."

So Mary had retired that night once again wrestling with the problem. She even prayed to her dead mother asking her for help. And when she woke up she knew it hadn't been in vain. Now she knew what she had to do. Now all she had to decide was which one she should kill. Her dad? Or Ryan's mom? There were points loaded in favour of both of them. His mom had been the one to suggest waiting until Ryan's birthday was over. That gave her one point. It had been surprisingly thoughtful of her. But then She didn't work. So if she killed her dad they'd have to find an alternate source of income. Score one point for dad as the bread winner. Well She did cook, clean and watch Ryan when she wasn't around. That would have been a point for her but dad could easily pay someone to do those things. The score remained tied. But then She would be easier to fool than dad. Score one for Her again.

And so Mary went on, giving a point first to one, then to the other. Until today. Today they were still even and her time was running out. It had to be tonight. She had to decide fast. In desperation she asked Ryan, "Ryan, who do you love more? Dad or mom?" Ryan was busy trying to tie his shoelaces and didn't answer immediately. She wanted to shake him. This was life and death! Finally he turned and said, "well, dad said he'd buy me a new bicycle for my birthday, so if he has, I guess I love him more today".

Mary relaxed. She'd seen the bike. Had helped hide it behind the sofa. Now she knew who it had to be. She'd even decided how to do it. After dinner dad would drop some of Ryan's friends off. Ryan's mom would be a bit 'high' and very affectionate the way she always was after a party. It would be a simple matter to lure her into the balcony. To show her the spot where the railing had come loose. To get underneath her n tip her over. She was such a tiny thing. She'd just have to see that she kept Her glass well stocked all night. That way if she passed out there would be no need to play act. Yeah, it would be simpler that way.

Her dad would tell the cops about the divorce. She would tell the cops she'd seen Her crying secretly. The cops would have to decide whether it was an accident or suicide. Mary sincerely hoped it would be declared an accident. She didn't want Ryan to grow up believing his mom had committed suicide. That wouldn't be good for him.

Oh well, things would work out. They usually did.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Read Suspect's version here.

Really... go read it now.

Life is a series of blog posts...

2006-11-16T04:58:00.000+05:30

Recently I noticed that my life seems to have turned into a series of blog posts. Unwritten ones of course...

It starts when I read the newspaper over breakfast. The news is no longer just 'news'. It's fodder for this blog. I read some shocking news. I angrily compose some posts and then rewrite them in my head. Unfortunately when I shut the paper all those drafts are deleted automatically.

Somebody rings the bell. A salesman. I drive him off, composing a post on the dangers posed by such wandering salesmen. I end with absurd advise on driving them away. Yup, a real nice post. Pity it won't last till I get on the comp.

I've got an errand to run in town. I struggle to kick start my bike and compose another post on how unsafe those damn kick-start thingies are. It whips back so fast my leg gets hurt and while I'm swearing the post becomes unprintable.

I'm riding to town. Another post gets drafted in my head. All about how lovely and unspoiled Goa is. It gets canned for being too sentimental.

A cop stops me and asks for my licence. I thrash the entire police department in my head. I use blistering language and load the post heavily with sarcasm. It's so much fun but I know the actual thing will never live up to it, so I regretfully consign it to the black hole of unwritten posts.

I haggle with someone and draft a triumphant post on my bargaining skills. Then I remind myself that this blog isn't fictional and I save the idea for use when I become better at bargaining.

There's a sudden shower as I ride back home, so I plan a post on my love-hate relationship with the rain. I'm drenched by the time I get home and I've forgotten why I love the rain. Another post has to be postponed.

I have to make dinner. I write posts in my head about all my favourite dishes. Unfortunately I burn the dishes I'm supposed to be watching and I lose all interest in anything to do with food.

I sit in front of the computer before going to bed and I can't think of a single thing to write about. I think about all the posts I drafted and discarded in my head all day. I mourn their loss. I decide to immortalise them with a fitting memorial.

Hence this post.

Don't live each day like it's your last.

2006-11-13T03:03:00.000+05:30

I've heard people saying that everyone should live each day like it's their last. That's a load of crap. The world would grind to a halt if everyone did that. Who would go to work on their last day on Earth? Not me. That's for sure!

Some years ago, my dad told me I'd die at 40 if I didn't improve my lifestyle. He denies it now but it's sunk in pretty deep. Though I laughed at the time, I think ever since then Ever since then I've lived my life as if I were going to die at 40. Every year I count down to the day.

Believing something like that makes me want to spend more time with everyone I love. It makes me renew bonds that might grow weak with time and it makes me appreciate those that maintain themselves.

It makes me read whatever I want to, whenever I want to, no matter how much work is piled up.

It makes me do things most people would label 'useless' just because they make me happy. I've danced on the street with a friend once just cos he said we'd never danced together.

It makes me avoid people who might prove a drain on my emotions. They might be wonderful people and sometimes I regret it, but in the end I just don't think it's worth wasting time on people with issues and hang-ups.

It makes me squeeze a laugh out of everything around me. I put on my sober face when required but I find it much too easy to laugh these days.

But one thing it does not do, is make me want to go out and work hard just so I can earn a fortune by the time I'm 35 or 40. What would be the point?

Most people work hard and slog their butts off so that they can relax when they get old.

Since I'm not sure I'll ever have the privilege of dying 'an old crone, lying in my bed' I think I had subconsciously decided to live the other way around. Relax now and work hard later.

Does that seem like a good thing?

Nah. That's not so good.

Particularly if I don't die at 40.

I now have 15 years to go. And I find myself thinking of all the times my dad has been wrong.

Damn!

I'm feeling as sick as a dog...

2006-11-11T18:08:00.000+05:30

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

2006-11-10T01:01:00.000+05:30

I've put the red button there on the right cos I've always liked it. It'll be there for a week or so. I strongly advise against pushing it.

[Edit: Now it's at the bottom of the page cos though a week is up, I like knowing it's around just in case I feel like playing with it now n then...]

~~Suspect~~ The blogger formerly known as Suspect has changed his blog template a bit. It made me feel like kicking my heels up too. I don't want to hear any critical comments about it. As someone remarked recently it's my blog and I can do whatever I want with it. If you don't like it, go suck eggs. If you absolutely hate it, email me.

Edit: I've removed most of the changes for now cos P says they screw up the page in Firefox. I'll check in out on Firefox as soon as possible and redo it if I can. Unfortunately I'm learning how to do it as I'm doing it so expect some hilarious mistakes!

Packing...

2006-11-08T02:53:00.000+05:30

I love packing. There's something magical about packing. A promise of things to come. Of a journey somewhere. Of people I'll meet and places I'll see.

Packing isn't essential before a trip of course. You can always go along 'on the fly' so to speak. But packing prepares you for what is to come. It forces you to think about what lies ahead. It may slow you down at the start, but your trip will be much smoother if you pack well. No stops to shop on the way. You have everything you need and can focus on the destination.

Aaah, the destination. For many people the destination is the whole point of the journey. I disagree. If you approach the journey in the right frame of mind you'll find that every moment on the way has its own charm. Every wayside stall you stop at, every porter you haggle with, every cup of coffee that scalds your tongue, everything blends together in a wild rush of images and sounds.

Not that I have anything against reaching my destination. The excitement, the rush and then the feeling of utter relaxation. The contentment of knowing you've reached safe harbour.

Until it's time to pack again.

5 reasons why this ain't a soft porn blog.

2006-11-06T15:21:00.000+05:30

Another day, another post.

Suspect has suggested I start a soft porn blog. Here are 5 reasons why I don't think that's such a hot idea.

1. I don't think there's anything hot about genitalia. And Wikipedia says that's what soft porn is. As for the rest of the porn family... I get bored watching people have sex unless there's some kind of story. And I've been told if it has a story, it's not porn.

2. I'd like to have a variety of readers. Not a pack of sex-starved 15 and 16 year old guys. [Actually when it comes to porn I believe most guys fall under this category.] [Yes I'm biased.]

3. I don't approve of people who download free porn. Porn is an industry. I support industry. Pay for your porn. Somewhere else.

4. I'll be very rich someday which usually means interviews and fame. Hence I'd rather not provide fodder for future interviewers.

5. I'd much rather have a torture blog. Unfortunately suspect seems to have that up and running already.

Giant Pubis

2006-11-04T04:55:00.000+05:30

I got the following in the mail and was fascinated. Real life is really weirder than fiction. It's easily found on google so I have no qualms about putting it up.

But... for those who found the Luis Royo picture 'sleazy' or inappropriate... please read no further!
----------------------------------------------------------

The police of Los Angeles had a lot of fun last year, when they were filling out papers to register a series of car accidents. As it turned out, drivers were losing control and running into other vehicles because of a giant picture of woman's pubis, which they could see displayed on the front part of an oncoming car.

The LA police started desperately looking for the unfortunate pubis and came upon the tracks of a young hairdresser named Nelly Node. Nelly's passion for arts made the young woman photograph her own crotch and put the zoomed picture on her Volkswagen Beetle. Nelly decided to use such a shameless method to prepare her college course work, in which she analyzed the art of design.

The witty student's idea worked for the college professors: she was proudly driving her "pubic beetle" until the police arrested the woman. The court ruled that Nelly's car was creating a dangerous situation on the roads: the girl had to paint over her car's hood. Here's a picture of her VW "before" she had to repaint it.

Damn Drunk Tourists!

2006-11-02T16:35:00.000+05:30

THE GOOD

The day started of great. Was chatting with a friend till 4 am and had to be up by 5.30 to go for morning mass. [All Souls Day] So decided it didn't make sense to sleep for just an hour an half. So when the electricity went at about 5 am I wasn't really bothered. I was glad it had happened on a day when I was awake. Figured it would be back by the time I got back, just in time for me to take a nap. I enjoyed riding my bike before sunrise to the chapel. Lovely cold breeze. Saw a small crowd on the way but didn't stop cos there were cops and I don't like cops.

THE BAD

Reached the chapel and things went downhill from there. Mass was slow, then had to make polite conversation with someone I don't like and when I got home, still no electricity. My dad went to check and found that some stupid damn tourists wrapped their vehicle around the electricity pole/transformer [whatever]. The transformer actually landed on their car. [So says dad] So no electricity the full day. Maybe more. No lights, no fans, no microwave, the food in the fridge starting to complain about the heat, and worst of all... no Internet!

THE FANTASY

Having been driven out of my home by some idiotic tourists who can't control their liquor here I sit checking my mail and whining about all the work I could have done if I were home.
And as I sit here I meditate on just how vindictive I want to be. I still don't know what happened to the tourists. The saints of Goa usually protect all drunk people here. [They don't protect the innocent souls the drunk drivers run into!] The tourists are probably starting to work out how they're going to recount their adventures once they're back home. But... I can always use my imagination. Apparently the trauma caused by the passage of electric current through the body (as from contact with high voltage lines or being struck by lightning) involves burns and abnormal heart rhythm and unconsciousness. Now that's a very satisfying thought!

9 weird things about me...

2006-11-01T14:26:00.000+05:30

I've been tagged once again by suspect. So now I'm supposed to spill the beans about 9 weird things about me.

I can think of several things which can't be put on the list. Why? Cos you never know who'll be reading this. And yeah, I also want to keep suspects mind clean. It's a hard job but someones gotta do it!

1. I love staying up and sleeping after sunrise.

2. I can never throw out paper. I have old receipts and bills that are almost illegible stacked all about the place. I also have my old kindergarten books, every letter or note ever written to me, ... (you get the drift).

3. I once lay down in the middle of the road on a dare.

4. I can't spend new bank notes. And if they're in series I'm lost.

5. I get really bored shopping for clothes and shoes. I can picture people shaking their heads. Trust me, it counts. All the girls I know love shopping.

6. A guy once paid me to yell at his friend.

7. When I get really bored I sleep. Anywhere! I wiggle about, find the most comfortable position, blank out all the disapproving looks and sleep. I've done it on buses, in theatres, in church, at shopping malls (while friends shop - for clothes, aaaargh), ...

8. If I'm really sleepy I can sleep while standing too, as long as I've got something to rest against or to hold on to.

9. Some girls look at guys shoulders, some are fascinated by butts. Me, I have a thing for their hands. Arms too, but hands specially.

Ok, that's it for me. And out of a wholly justified desire to share the trouble I tag Glenn, Cecilia, and CrazyRhyme.

The man with the power...

2006-10-31T14:46:00.000+05:30

He was a mild meek mannered man by day. He seemed to have a complete life. He laughed with his wife and kids in the morning, joked with his friends at work, and they all said, "oh that guy! he's a nice chap".

But little did they know that underneath that calm, sweet exterior there lurked another man. A man with a secret life. A man who influenced hundreds of lives each day.

Why? Because he had power.

Everyday as he waited for the bus he'd look around for someone who needed his help that day. Aaah, a girl wearing a short skirt. Who did she think she was. She was just asking for it. Standing there with that attitude. He'd stare at her legs. When she shifted uncomfortable he'd exult with satisfaction. Oh, she was enjoying it wasn't she. The bitch. His eyes would roam upwards. she'd turn her back towards him. Pity.

Then the bus would come. He'd reach the door and then purposely slow down so that she could enter first. He'd press himself against her and delight if she stumbled and lost her balance. Then he could officiously press forward to help. Oh madame, do you need some help. He'd extend his hands and hold her arm. She'd shake him off and glare and walk away and stand next to the driver.

He'd look around. She was starting to act tough. Too bad. But there was so much choice here.
Ahh, there was a pretty girl in a salwar. She hadn't seen him yet. No matter. He'd stand next to her. Oh, that was a curve. He swayed with the bus. She felt so soft. Damn, he wished he could use his hands. No matter. Maybe he'd just rub himself against her. She was trapped by the people around. All his. What! She was trying to move away. Turning to glare as if she wasn't secretly turned on too. Yeah right! Sorry madame, this bus is so crowded no? Public transport is so bad.

She's saying she has to get off at the next stop. It's his stop too. But he'll wait for her to get down first. That way she has to squeeze past him. There'll be a lot of confusion. She'll be worried that the bus might not stop for long. And the bus will be still. His hands will be free. To 'help' her squeeze past him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I made myself literally sick writing this. I feel like puking up my lunch. But I decided to post it anyway because I know this man. Almost every girl will know him. Or someone like him.

I've met him on buses, at work and even in church. He has made me feel helpless. He has made me feel like I'm to blame.

I haven't met him recently because I now avoid public transport and crowds as far as possible. But not every girl has that luxury.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit: Oh yeah, now I carry safety pins every time I'm forced to use public transport.

with apologies to all Tarzan fans...

2006-10-29T14:10:00.000+05:30

I found myself watching Tarzan yesterday. I've never bothered to watch the whole thing before cos he always reminds me of an animated Arnold Schwarzenegger with all his bulging muscles. I've never seen the start. This time I started watching when he first meets Jane...

Anyway this is my take on the scene where his chimpanzee mother is showing him the tree house where they found him for the first time.

Start of scene: Tarzan picks up an old photo of his family and turns questioningly to the chimpanzee...

Mother Chimp: "Yes, that's your family Tarzan. Your father, mother and you."

Tarzan: "What happened here!?!"

Mother Chimp: "You see, it was a long dry summer that year... Food was scarce... We were roaming the valleys searching for our next meal. And then one day, just in time for dinner, we saw your family."

A reminiscent smile plays across Mother Chimp's face...

"We feasted that day. We wanted to have you as an appetiser but we were too hungry. We started straight off with the main course. Your dad was excellent, and your mom made a fine dessert."

Tarzan makes a strangled sound, Mother Chimp carries on undisturbed.

"We carried you along intending to fatten you up a bit.
I've never held with playing with one's food as you know. If I've told the kids once, I've told them a hundred times not to play with you. But it was no use. We were forced to keep you as a pet."

Tarzan's eyes fill with tears, and he bawls like a baby.

Mother Chimp: "Now what's wrong?!?"

Tarzan: "You mean I'm a pet???"

Mother Chimp: "Well, yes. Why? What's wrong? You've had pets of your own. What about the baby rabbit you rescued, and the little antelope you used to play with..."

Tarzan: "But mama... you don't understand... I ATE them!!!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Edit: Ok, the chimps are actually gorillas. For all those who give a damn. :)

Abuse

2006-10-27T01:07:00.000+05:30

I have a friend who I'm going to call Layla.

I first met Layla when I'd just had a big change in my life. She was distant at first. We lived in the same flat and though we were thrown together a lot, she stayed aloof. At first I thought it was cos she was so proud of all that she'd achieved. Though she was just a couple of years older, she had a good job and was earning really well for someone of her age, sex and background.

And then I got to know her story. She had an abusive boyfriend. She'd been hurt many times. Hospitalised twice. She'd tried to kill herself once. All that money she earned went straight to her account and her dear boyfriend kept her ATM card. When she needed money she had to ask him to withdraw it and then had to account for every penny she spent.

I didn't realise how bad it was at first. I thought he was just a controlling jealous freak. I was a little rude to him one day when he dragged me into one of their fights. That day she came home with her hand twisted so badly she couldn't use it for almost a week. Another time he kept calling and cursing and we were so scared that he'd come and try to hurt her we both got out of there at dawn and stayed away the whole day.

I kept telling her to leave the guy. She kept telling me she couldn't. That this was the life she had chosen and that she had to stick to it. She was just in her mid-twenties but she believed she couldn't start again. She used to tell me everything would be okay once they were married.

I left that place a few months later.

I'm not sure why I'm writing this here. She's married now. To the same guy. I've met her and she seems the same. Her life hasn't changed much. I didn't ask her if he still beats her. Call me a coward if you will, but I didn't want to know. I saw the way he yells at her. Some things never change.

It takes courage to face things head on, sure. But it also takes courage to cut your losses and walk away. I wish I had helped her find that courage.

Luis Royo... as promised...

2006-10-21T02:53:00.000+05:30

This one is for the guys...

2006-10-16T01:43:00.000+05:30

For some reason guys are always comfortable coming to me for advice. Single guys and not-so-single guys. And since all girls discuss their problems with their friends, I've had to deal with more than my fair share of 'relationship problems'.

This post is for the single guys who say they don't want to remain single. It's NOT for those singles who've decided that they'd rather stick to their bachelorhood. It's not for guys who are just looking to get dates. That's fine as long as they know what they want. This post is only for those single guys who say they want a serious relationship. I've listed what I believe are 2 major reasons most guys I know are having trouble 'getting a girl'. There are loads more. But these two are real problems that most guys will ignore if possible. I have friends who think they only need a great car n oodles of money to get girls falling all over them. Well, no car and no amount of money is going to get you a serious relationship with any woman worth having.

1] Most guys don't really like girls. As human beings. And I'm dead serious about this. Most of the guys I know, like me as a friend, but they insist that girls in general are 'money-crazy bitches'. They think girls are shallow, vain, shopping-crazy, manipulative etc. And then they all bitch n moan that they have trouble getting a girl. That is so crazy. Girls can pick up the signals you send out. When I'm talking to a guy, I'm not going to want to spend time with him if he gives out a signal that says that he believes that all girls are bitches. No way. Not even to prove him wrong. I might have tried to get him to change his mind 5-6 years ago when I was very naive. But now I know that anyone who thinks that way, is just going to be on the lookout for evidence to prove his point.

2]Most guys know nothing about girls. And they don't want to know. Not really. They'd be bored out of their skulls. They assume that all they have to do is meet the 'right' girl n then everything will fall into place n they'll live happily ever after. They don't realise that any girl can be the 'right' girl if they just take the trouble to learn about women. All women are similar. We can all be angels or demons at different times. Very few guys will take the trouble to try n understand the girl's point of view. Tell them there's a book that will explain women and they don't bother to read it. What kind of attitude is that. If a guy can't be bothered even before getting the girl, what are the chances he'll bother later. Slim to none. Even if there's a problem later he'll just pretend there's no problem until the girl walks out on him. And then he'll bitch about her to his friends. You can't expect to understand women instinctively. Women are different. We think differently and we act differently. What we think is caring you think is interfering. You see the problem here? We go out of our way to show you we care. We expect some appreciation and love. Instead we get crucified for 'interfering'!

I'm not defending girls here. So please spare me calls n mail telling me girls are evil and that guys are to be pitied. If you think girls are evil you should be determined to stay a bachelor. Nothing wrong with that. Some girls may indeed be worthy of scorn. But reserve your scorn for those girls. Don't shove all your anger and all your 'issues' on every girl you meet. And please do read some good 'relationship' books.

Clemens Konieczka - 'Old Room'

2006-10-13T18:27:00.000+05:30

I'm not sure what I want my blog to look like. All I know is that I was fed up of the old look. Hence the all black look. Expect to see changes every now n then until I settle on something timeless.

And since I'm not in the mood to post I'm just going to add one of my favourite works of art here.

It's called Old Room. The artist is Clemens Konieczka.

The Shiv Sena

2006-10-11T03:04:00.000+05:30

My blog needs an update and I think I've rattled on long enough about myself. Also it's been a long time since I've had a chance to vent my spleen at someone or something. So instead of focusing my illuminating spotlight on myself today I shift the focus onto one of my pet peeves: The Shiv Sena.

Warning: If anyone reading this is a supporter of the Shiv Sena, please stop here and go back to inciting trouble somewhere. You're not going to like what follows.

For people expecting an unbiased post: get real! I know I'm right. Why shouldn't I be biased.

Ok, for starters, if I had to test a nuke device I'd stick the Sena on an island n try it on them. They are communalists of the worst kind. The kind that portray themselves as nationalists. In fact they actually seem to believe that. Poor souls. I don't know what the Sena high command i.e. Bal Thackeray, really believes, but he banks on the frustration of the middle class and keeps the fires burning.

If the Sena doesn't have a viable issue to riot about, lo and behold, they'll create one. I've been trying to remember all the stuff they've done over the years. It's tough. I think I'll just start this off with what I can remember from the top of my head and I'll post a scrap or two everytime they riot again. Just following their antics will ensure I post often.

In 1998 Shiv Sainiks attacked movie theatres in Mumbai over Fire, a Deepa Mehta film with a lesbian theme.

In 1999 I remember their outcry against the visit of the Pakistani team. The threat that they'd dig up the cricket pitch at Mohali. In fact they actually did vandalise the cricket pitch at Firoz Shah Kotla in Delhi to stop the Pakistani cricket team from playing there.

I remember the protests each year against the celebration of Valentines Day. The Hallmark stores that were stormed and the cards that they burnt. Their reasoning... The celebration of Valentine's day is a western concept that should not be allowed in India. Whether they believe India and Indians are the personal property of Bal Thackeray is a question that should be settled sometime soon. Maybe a few open debates on the issue would help settle my queries. Unfortunately the Shiv Sena isn't known for it's debating skills. The last editor of a local daily that tried to take them on was attacked.

I'm not sure what the official Sena response to that was but they have a pretty standard spiel that they use each and every time the violence goes too far and they have to excuse themselves.

They used it when a statue of Bal Thackeray's wife was defaced in July(someone threw some mud on it... big deal). I think even their own supporters would have said their reactions were disproportionate to the original incident. However the standard Shiv Sena response was parroted forth as usual. "Of course we don't endorse violence, but our people are very high spirited. They could not bear the insult." Details below

Earlier, the statue of Shiv Sena chief Bal Thackeray's wife was allegedly desecrated at Shivaji Park on Sunday morning by unidentified miscreants.

In protest, Shiv Sainiks went on a rampage and torched a tourist bus in the area. They also blocked the main road at Shivaji Park.

The Sainiks claimed that the miscreants had thrown mud on Thackeray's wife, Meenatai's, statue. Meanwhile, a bandh has been called by the party in Navi Mumbai.

Shiv Sainiks also damaged a police outpost near Shivaji Park alleging that the police failed to nab the culprits although the outpost was just a stones throw away from where the incident took place.

Shiv Sena has said that it would not allow state Assembly proceedings to go on until those responsible for the defacing of the statue are arrested.

A clash was reported from Andheri in which a senior police officer, Rajendra Thakur, was seriously injured. Sainiks burnt effigies at Andheri West and all shops were shut down in the area.

Meanwhile, at the Mumbai domestic airport the ground staff has gone on a strike to protest against the incident.

"Things had gone out of control but now the situation is returning to normalcy. However, sporadic incidents of stone pelting have been reported. Extra reinforcements have been called and Sena leaders have assured us that law and order will not get out of control," Joint Commissioner of Mumbai Police, Arup Patnaik said.

At Shivaji Park, the police fired teargas to disperse protestors.
Senior Sena leader Manohar Joshi has threatened drastic action against those involved in the desecration of the statue.
Joshi has threatened to bring life to a standstill in Dadar and other Sena strongholds in the city.

"Meenatai, whom the Shiv Sainiks called Maasaheb, is like God to us. Our God has been insulted here. There will definitely be reaction to this," an agitated Joshi said.

This was said of a woman whose greatest role was the one she played as wife of Bal Thackeray. Whether putting up with him, earned her a statue in a public place is anyone's guess.

This was said of a woman whose husband was prosecuted for inciting communal violence and who very famously threatened "India will burn."
Thackeray warned. "I am not threatening but warning. The NDA Government had better be aware. This is not a virus that will be restricted to Mumbai and Maharashtra. It will spread through the country."

What more can I say...

You may wonder what today's violence was about... The Shiv Sena is starting to feel the pangs of succession. Bal Thackeray's nephew n protege Raj Thackeray, left the party and set up his own, when his uncle decided to stick with his son Uddhav Thackeray as his successor. Today the workers of both the parties clashed. Yippee. It may be bad for the average mumbaikar but as a distant observer I can't help but gloat over the idea of dissension in the ranks. Maybe they'll all kill each other.

Better safe than sorry... or not.

2006-10-06T15:34:00.000+05:30

This isn't really meant to be a post. It's more of a commentary on the replies I got to my previous post.

I've always thought following one's dreams is the highest call there is. And that's what I always tell everyone. I'm the girl who advised a friend to quit law n follow her dream of becoming an air hostess. She didn't take my advice. Is she happy now? I don't dare ask. Whenever anyone comes to me and talks of following their passion, I'm happy for them and do my best to cheer them on. Not that I ever advocate anything as drastic as walking out on your day job when you've got a family of four to feed. But when you have a chance, you should grab it, and thank God for it. I guess I honestly believe if you have a passion you can make it work.

My problem was that I had no passion. All I wanted was to have a good time. I got good grades cos I enjoy learning new stuff. Exams are easy for me. I rarely topped but then that would have required more effort than I was ready to invest. But finding something to work for, something that I'd enjoy doing even if I was a millionaire n didn't need a job... now that was hard.

And somehow I thought everyone would be happy that I finally found my dream. But everyone's attitude seems more along the lines of 'better safe than sorry'. I'm not just talking about my blog-world here. Even in the real world, no-one, not one person I've mentioned my idea to, is in favour of it.

Of course that's not going to stop me. Luckily for me I've been blessed with the ability to go my own way reagrdless of the approval or disapproval of people around me. Except my parents. Their disapproval always hurts even when I don't let it show.

Which is why they know nothing of this.

But I'm still surprised by the number of 'better safe than sorry' people out there. It's scary but exhilarating. I guess I'm one of those people who loves being in the minority. I love all you people who care enough about me to try n keep me grounded. But, damn it, I want to fly!

Just curious... all you people reading this. If you didn't need to work, if you had all the money you could ever want, what would you do with your life? How would you spend your days? Lazing about might seem attractive for a while but men (and women) are said to need a purpose in life to keep them happy.

Any thoughts?

The Road Not Taken

2006-10-03T14:59:00.000+05:30

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

...Robert Frost

---------------------------------------

I'm fast approaching a fork in the road, and I truly believe that I must take the road less travelled. I only wish I knew why. Is it laziness? Is my choice based on all the wrong reasons?

All I know is that it is something I must do. It is something I have always done. How could I have been so blind not to see before. Do travellers sometimes take the wrong road. And if they do, are they doomed to always walk alone. Does their heart travel on the other route leaving them dispirited and lonely.

I want to be a complete person. I want to be a happy person. I've seen people settle for what they think is the best that life can offer. That's just a load of crap. Do what you have to do to survive, but do it whilst you walk on your own road.

Tagged!

2006-10-01T03:31:00.000+05:30

About a week back I was tagged by suspect. I very stupidly said I'd do it. That was a few days ago, true, but never let it be said that I don't keep my promises.

[Any smartass comments about the movies I like n you'll burn in hell if I have my way.]

1. The last movie you saw in a theater, and current-release movie you still want to see:

Hmmm... these days I seem to be watching only Hindi movies in the theatre. No idea why. Anyway the answer is 'Woh Lamhe'. Just saw it today. If I'd answered this last week I'd have answered 'Lage Raho Munnabhai'.
Current release... maybe 'Dor'.
But definitely want to watch 'Zindagi Rocks' when it releases. [Do y'all see what I mean about my Hindi movie phase.]

2. The last movie you rented/purchased for home viewing:

I don't rent movies any more. When I can buy 5 movies on 1 DVD for just 80 bucks in Bangalore it seems pointless to rent. And when I do buy, I buy in bulk. I last bought 10 DVD's together. I'm not going to list all 50 movies here so I'll answer this by saying the last movie I downloaded was 'Pirates of the Caribbean Dead Man's Chest'.

3. A movie that made you laugh out:

English - Overall the most I remember laughing was at a real old one called 'The General'

Hindi - 'Lage Raho Munnabhai'

4. A movie that made you cry:

English - I can't cry at sad scenes. When people are dying I laugh So here I'm listing 2 movies which always make me cry with... well not happiness. Just some strong emotion.
'While you were sleeping' - the wedding scene when Sandra Bullock leaves Peter at the altar.
'Independence Day' - During the speech.
I've seen both many times. N I cry each n every time.

Hindi - 'Lage Raho Munnabhai'

5. A movie that was a darling of the critics, but you didn't think lived up to the hype:

English - Far too many to name but will just list a few sets that didn't deserve the fame they got.
Mission Impossible 2 & 3 [I loved the original T.V. series n hate Tom Cruise so this is easy]
The Matrix Sequels [Too dark. Literally]
the Godfather Sequels. [yes I love The Godfather. Both the book and the movie. And I hated both Godfather 2 & 3. N I don't care what anyone says]

Hindi - 'Rang De Basanti' [I tried watching this twice at home n fell asleep within the first 10 minutes both times. Since it's India's entry at the Oscars I'm hoping the remaining 21/2 hours are better. ]

6. A movie that you thought was better than the critics:

English - Nope. Got nothing to complain about here. The critics pretty much agree with me.

Hindi - 'Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna' [I've written a full post on it here which says it all.]

7. Favorite animated movie:

English - 'Shrek', 'The Lion King'

Hindi - Don't think I've ever seen one.

8. Favorite Disney Villain:

Don't know if this counts but I love Tom. I always hope he catches Jerry and swallows him whole.

9. Favorite movie musical:

English - I love old English movies so this is a tough one but I think I'll pick 'Seven Wives for Seven Brothers'

Hindi - Almost all Hindi movies are musicals so once again a tough one. Three movies where I really enjoyed the songs are 'Josh', 'Kal Ho Na Ho' and 'Woh Lamhe'.

10. Favorite movies of all-time (up to five):

I'm just going to pick one. N anyone who has a problem with my choice can go suck eggs.

'Shrek'

Matka Man

2006-09-26T15:18:00.000+05:30

Something happened a week ago that made me want to rant n rave. However I practiced the self-control for which I am known n held off. I decided if I still felt like blogging about it in a week I would do so.

Well here I am. Mad as a hornet.

This post is my reaction to a conversation I overheard. I wasn't supposed to hear it but I couldn't help myself. I rattled about making a lot of noise so that the people talking would hear me n shut up but no luck. They were totally absorbed. The conversation was between my dad n another man I've known all my life.

That man has a problem. Maybe addiction would be a better word. I'm not going to get into specifics but it's a form of gambling. For the sake of clarity I'm going to call him Matka Man. Just incase you don't know - Matka is a type of illegal lottery that many people are addicted to. This guy isn't addicted to matka but the effects are the same. Right from the time my dad first knew him he used to spend his time n money gambling with some friends. At the time he'd just gotten married but that didn't stop him. Not even the arrival of 2 children over the years had any effect. Then all of sudden he cleaned up his act. He focused on building up his reputation. He's always been known for his integrity n efficiency n with a lot of hard work he retired last year as the head of his section.

And then, he started gambling again. It's causing a lot of turmoil in his family. His wife earns about half of what he used to and they depend on his pension. And yet, every day, the Matka Man will be out gambling. One night my dad n I had to go out in our car searching for him cos he hadn't come home even by 1.00 am. and his wife was terrified. He refuses to buy a cell phone. Probably because he wouldn't be able to disappear as freely as he does now.

I don't know how the conversation started that day but I was privileged to hear his reasoning. According to him he has no other way to pass his time. When my dad suggested a little part time work or consulting he was adamant that he had paid his dues n was going to 'enjoy' his retirement. According to him he gave his wife a part of his pension n since she didn't know about the part he was keeping for his gambling each month it couldn't hurt her. And this from a man who keeps saying she's spending too much on their children. I pity his wife. With her salary n the portion of his that he thinks she deserves she has to meet all the expenses as well as her kids demands n there are lots of those.

Why do men like that ever marry? Matka Man would have been much happier if he'd stayed single. A man who puts his enjoyment above his children's needs, in my opinion is a total failure as a husband and as a father. And all this from a man who keeps talking about his personal integrity and moral values. He'll defend his 'principles' till he's blue in the face. Can't he see what he's doing wrong?

He prides himself on being an intellectual. He loves to debate with people because he can use his reasoning n language skills to confuse them. And then he sits all smug convinced that he's superior to just about everyone else. I used to respect him before because when all's said n done he does have high principles in general and he's usually willing to listen to reason. But now, after being forced to listen to him defending an indefensible habit n still sounding self-righteous, I'm having a hard time even looking at his face.

Matka Man did his best to convince my dad he's in the right. That he deserves the freedom to enjoy the rest of his life. My dad did his best to convince him that gambling was just as much of an addiction as alcohol n drugs. That life can be enjoyed even without such selfish behaviour. But the conversation wound up going round n round in circles. So the Matka Man left as he'd come, still smug n convinced he'd done no wrong. Still bewailing the fact that his kids aren't as great as other people's kids. Forgetting that they had to grow up living with an absent father who never showed them they were valued. Still complaining that his wife was a nag. Forgetting that he had made her one. With his feet set firmly on the road of self-deception. Trying to convince the world to walk with him.

The Mosquito Mafia

2006-09-17T03:57:00.000+05:30

Many of you reading this will assume I'm just trying to be funny. I'm not.

The past few days have been one long war against the Mosquito Mafia in my house. The battle ground is the computer room though we have little skirmishes on the stairs and on occasion in the hall. Actually those skirmishes are usually one sided. I see the enemy relaxing defenceless n swoop, ruthlessly decimating all in sight. But the main battle in the computer room is another story altogether.

The mosquitoes very cleverly took possession of the room so quietly n secretly that no one noticed. The first time it came to my attention was a couple of days ago when one of them (must have been drunk) came buzzing around my head. I killed him of course. What would you have done. And yet, though the kill was only in retaliation to the attack, the mosquitoes decided it was matter of honour and declared war. I was attacked relentlessly. I'd get a few n the rest would lie low. The moment I sat down n lowered my defences another squad would be sent in to take me out.

Eventually I prevailed and the mosquitoes were forced to retreat to higher levels. I would have accepted that. I'm a peace loving person by nature and I would have been ok with sharing the room. As long as the bottom 6 feet were clear they could have had the rest. BUT... I reckoned without their thirst for revenge. The survivors got the word out and soon reinforcements from other families started pouring in. I realised I needed help too. Unfortunately in these sad days good help is hard to find. I tried and met with ridicule. My sister howled with laughter (she still giggles everytime I kill a mosquito), my mom advised Odomus. I refused. There has got to be a better way of defending oneself. I mean c'mon, it's all very well for skunks but really...I didn't ask my dad for help cos I knew he'd wade right in with flit and though personally I love the smell, I knew it might result in my mom leaving before the mosquitoes.

So as you can see I had absolutely no option but to do what I did next. I know it may seem like an unfair measure, but you know they say, 'all's fair in love and war'. And anyway, since they were the ones who brought in outside help, I figured I could take the high tech route. Using brain over brawn. Hence the shift to biological weapons. Some might say overkill. I say dead is dead. Doesn't matter how. Hence I moved the 'All Out' thingy from my room to the war zone. Now the mosquitoes brains are so addled they come and sit peacefully right next to me. At which time I take great pleasure in squishing them. Of course I've considered the fact that they may be trying to surrender. Huh! Unless they find a way of holding little white flags they'd be better off making peace with their maker.

petty worries, death & life.

2006-09-12T14:48:00.000+05:30

Life is speeding up so much that I find I've no time to read and write as much as I want to. My blog is suffering. Somehow this isn't an isolated phenomenon. Everyone with whom I've been in touch seems to be snowed under their own work. Maybe it's just that time of the year. The time before all the vacations. Maybe that's why life speeds up so much. Though come to think of it, all this rush is probably a way of getting things done before the year ends. Everyone's just trying to show that they've accomplished so much this year. Something to look back on with pride.

I feel so lucky whenever I realise I'm complaining about little things like being busy, and having people try to walk over me. Those are the times I realise that I'm one of the lucky ones. Someone very close to me recently lost her baby. Things that my friends and I mourn about, like jealous co-workers and busy schedules and homesickness and uncaring boyfriends/girlfriends actually seem like things to be counted as blessings. As long as we even notice these little worries it means we have nothing major going wrong in our lives. As long as I can get upset about the Shiv Sena and other communalists it means I have nothing to complain about closer to home.

At first I just couldn't understand what she was going through. It's hard for those without children to understand what it's like to lose a child. Only if you're close to someone who has lost a child will you see and feel a little bit of what they go through everyday. It's bad enough losing the child when it is small. It must be so much worse to lose a child later. A distant relative lost her 20 year old son when I was about 11 or 12. I remember overhearing my parents discussing it. I'll always remember the sound of my mom's voice when she said, "imagine losing him now. Just when she thought all the troublesome years were over. Just when she thought that now they could relax and enjoy life with a grown up child to support them." And she wasn't talking about financial support. All parents come to depend on their kids just as much as kids depend on their parents when they're young. For support, sharing and love. I believe that when a person dies it's the people left behind that suffer the most. I honestly am not scared of dying, but I am scared of dying before my parents and putting them through something like that. No parents deserve that.

Life is so twisted. When you're with people who care, it's easiest being the one who draws the short straw. Who's on his way out. It's easy to tell God to pick you, instead of someone you love. But when you choose to die or flirt with death you have to remember that though you'll be free from this life, you're condemning the people who care about you to misery. When I see people risking their life without reason I want to scream at their selfishness. Sometimes they've gone through a lot of pain themselves and use that as an excuse for their disenchantment with life. I want to tell them it's tougher and braver by far, to choose to live with the pain for the sake of others who love you.

Most of the time you don't get to choose who lives or dies. If you lose someone you love, remember you can't help that person with anything besides prayers. But you can help those left behind. The dead don't need us. The living do.

Pepsi Crap...

2006-09-07T00:53:00.000+05:30

Recently colas were in the news for containing excessive quantities of pesticides.

The Pepsi defence team had the bright idea of airing an ad where some Pepsi executives and a guy in a white lab coat get together n announce that the chemicals found in Pepsi are within permissible international n national standards.

C'mon you idiots! If you'd managed to get Coca Cola executives to advertise for Pepsi that would be something. Sure the Pepsi executives are going to tell us its safe.

I find the ads particularly amusing because of an email a friend sent me with the following pictures. They may be fake or doctored for all I know but they are very funny. Specially in context with that ridiculous ad that airs all the time!

Picking the right shade for the Pepsi!

Washing the bottles is hard work!

More Washing...

Getting the washed bottles into the crates, waiting to be filled up

Pepsi being filled

Putting the fizz in!

Picking the best caps!

Capping the bottles

Checking for leaks

Quality Check!

A dilemma

2006-09-06T00:13:00.000+05:30

This turned into a complicated post. All I started out to do was explain a dilemma without going into the particulars. It ended up like a movie I once saw, where all thru the movie they show you only the characters' feet. (The camera never went above mid-calf level) Not for those without both brains n persistence. (And headache medicine will be required for those with comprehension problems)
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sometimes you know someone is going to do something stupid.
You try to drop a hint.
They tell you that you're wrong.

N you can't say anything more cos then they'll think you're just trying to interfere or even worse that you're envious.

So instead of telling them what your instincts are screaming, you keep quite, smile n pretend that they're doing the right thing.

Then there comes a day when things go wrong for them. You care. You think that the stupid thing they did is the cause. One of life's long shadows. Maybe if they realise that that's the cause, they can prevent more pain n sorrow. But you can't remind them. Your hands are tied. You tried once n they didn't listen n if you try again they might think you're just gloating that you've been proved right.

I think people who won't listen to you before making a mistake will definitely not listen to you after it's too late. Instead of facing up to the fact that they were wrong they'll look for other things to blame. Cos facing up to their errors will bring on more guilt than they can stand.

I may be wrong. I wonder what's more important to me. Staying in their good books or taking a chance n reminding them about stuff from the past.
Easy, most people would say. That's what I'd tell people too. I'd tell them it doesn't matter if they like you for it or not. You need to tell if it may do some good.

But here's the case for not telling.
1) I tried to drop a hint n I got a reply which shows they've totally closed their minds to the possibility that they made a mistake.
2) If they do admit they made a mistake it would devastate them for sure n any benefits would only be seen much much later. Ergo, definite losses in the short term with the possibility of a huge benefit in the long run.

What would you do?

Stupid Forwards!

2006-09-01T22:57:00.000+05:30

Today once again I got a stupid forward telling me if I sent it on to 10 people I'd find my true love in a few days, if I sent it to 5 I'd find love in a week n if I deleted it I'd be unlucky in love for 24 years.

C'mon, since I never forward anything, I've probably already got a backlog of bad luck of more than 124 yrs. Are these 24 yrs going to be added to those or will they run concurrently?

In fact come to think of it, one email assured me that I'd lose my job (didn't have one), get run over (I didn't stir out of the house that day), or that a loved one would die or be in distress (I don't know how I escaped that one). I didn't forward it. I threw out a challenge into the teeth of fate n stayed in bed. And you know what... I survived.

Just as I'm going to survive the general bad luck + the romantic bad luck I've earned over the next few decades.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

{And btw... if you're the kind of IDIOT who tries to escape the bad luck that's your due by forwarding those forwards to me than trust me you're out of luck. Everytime I press the delete button I intonate..." May the bad luck I am about to receive be shared equally with all those who've gone before me...". So there!}

'Adu Mami'

2006-08-31T23:02:00.000+05:30

Yesterday an old lady from my mom's village died. Everyone in the village, and even families like mine who had hardly any connection with it, knew her as 'Adu mami'. She was really old and had been bed-ridden for a long time n yet her death made more of an impact on me than any death for years.

It wasn't that I knew her well. I didn't. Maybe it was the fact that she knew me. She knew my birthday n she made sure she knew of every important development in my life. It wasn't anything personal. She was like the village memory bank. She knew everything about everyone there. In a way, though I never really felt that I belonged there, as long as she was alive, I was a part of the village.

No one else there might know that I belong. Very few people will know whose daughter I am. She knew. And she always made sure I knew too. I will miss her.

the day before the last

2006-08-30T23:40:00.000+05:30

The month is almost over and it will end my self-imposed 'post every day' rule. What have I learned from the experience?

1) I can pay attention to the small details when I decide to.
2) It's not always a good idea to force words out. Sometimes the result may be good but often it's just unmitigated crap.
3) I realised that I write best when I feel strongly about something. When I bottle it up for a few days n then let it spill out.
4) I've realised that writing about something allows me see it from a by-stander's point of view, and that sometimes the new point of view makes me see holes in my own.
5) I realised that writing for oneself is wonderful n cathartic but when it's read by others it gets new meaning. It forces you to think things through. You can't be as abrupt and dogmatic as you want to. It teaches you consideration n politeness. Infact it teaches you all the things you think you don't have to pay attention to online.

And most importantly I realised that I love blogging... just not every day!

Hula Hooping!

2006-08-29T23:59:00.000+05:30

I always thought people who used to hula hoop were really really cool n sexy. Then I saw an old episode of Full House in which the oldest kid can do it and ever since that day I told myself one day I'd be able to do it too.

Well that day hasn't come yet but atleast now I have a hoop and everytime I want, I can try n experience once again the exasperation that comes from not being able to do something that looks so damn easy when others do it.

About the video posted below, the full story is here.

2006-08-29T23:49:00.000+05:30

That Old Pair of Jeans-Fatboy Slim - Steve Glashier

It takes a few minutes to load up completely...

Pathetic...

2006-08-28T23:59:00.000+05:30

Tsk, tsk, I just came online to check n I have to say the guesses were pretty pathetic...LOL

Too bad folks. Anyway, just to make this a little fairer I'll put the video up tomorrow. Before that, here are a few clues.

1) This is something that I thought would be quite easy to do. It turns out it's anything but!
2) It's something that's quite good for a person's health.
3) The toy can be all in one piece or it may need assembly. For instance mine is made up of 6 pieces of different colours.
4) It's great to watch anyone doing this. If it's an expert performing it's as good as a show and if it's a beginner like me, it's like watching a clown performing.

There, now let's see some intelligence. C'mon people!

Guess the game!?!

2006-08-27T22:02:00.000+05:30

I'm much too busy to come online these days but I am making time to practice the "game". I'm pretty sure most of you must be dead tired of all these references to it. [I know I am!] :) Well I've got some good news. I managed to do a few rounds today. I know it was just dumb luck cos I have no control over 'it' at all but still...

Tomorrow there's a b'day in the house n I won't have much time to post but I'm gonna put up a video of the "game" which as most of you must have guessed isn't actually a game at all. I just called it that for want of a better name.

Anyway, let's see who can guess what the "game" is. Post a comment with your guess and all those who are right will get pretty much anything they want from me as long as its cheap n reasonable. :D [You can see how sure I am that no one's gonna get it!]

Of cats n dogs...

2006-08-26T23:24:00.000+05:30

It's already 11.30 n I need to write a post n go watch some t.v. at twelve. Unfortunately the cat is sitting on the chair next to me and demanding that I scratch his head n neck. Hence my two-finger typing has now be reduced to one finger typing, since my right hand is busy petting the cat...

Now he's bending n making sure I scratch his ear. What's it with cats n their ears. I've seen him scratching his ears loads of times. When he can do it himself I think it's rude of him to make me do it. I'd rather scratch his chin. Atleast then I feel useful. I pretty sure he can't do it himself.

Ok, now while he takes a break n gives himself a good lick all over I'll try n finish this off.

I used to hate cats until I was about 14 when my mom n sis brought a tiny kitten home. She was so adorable even my dog loved her. He used to lick her whenever she was wet or hurt during her escapades. I can't really imagine anyone being able to stay aloof from a little kitten that's determined to crawl into your lap and snuggle up.

Hmmm... I think I'm going a little off track. What I started out to do was explain the basic difference between the natures of cats n dogs.

If a man takes good care of his dog, takes him for walks at the right time, gves him good food, loves him n in short is an ideal master the dog will think, "My master must be a really wonderful person. He wouldn't take such good care of me otherwise."
If a man takes care of a cat the same way, with love n devotion, the cat will think, "I must be a really wonderful creature. This human wouldn't take such good care of me otherwise."

New Interests...

2006-08-25T23:10:00.000+05:30

I've decided I need a new interest. I'm going to learn to play a 'game' of sorts. I'm not going to specify which one because though experts look very elegant as they 'play the game', the learning process is embarrassing for the person attempting to learn and hilarious for those watching. I don't want anyone turning up just to have a good laugh.

If I ever get the hang of it though I'll shout it out from the rooftops :D

Murder.

2006-08-24T23:05:00.000+05:30

Recently a boy of 18 was murdered by 2 of his best friends together with 3 other boys. It's come as a shock because most of the boys involved are from very well known families. One guys parents are good doctors and another guy is the nephew of a well known lawyer n is also related to a prominent retired cop.

I've heard of such incidents but somehow, now that it happened right here, to people I know off, everything is different. All the 'murderers' were good students and pretty well known among their age group. 3 of them are students in my college though they joined the year I passed out so I didn't know them personally.

What went wrong? The papers say they needed money to 'maintain' their high profile life style. So what? There must be loads of guys in that situation. What made these guys different?
Was the guy who died such a bad judge of character? These guys were supposed to be his best friends!
What did he feel as they strangled him? Was he conscious? Did he try to talk to them?
Did he keep thinking..."This can't be happening to me!?!".

Everyone keeps talking about the murder. They express shock and outrage but I feel it's something more. I think most people enjoy talking about the incident because it makes them feel a little self satisfied. They can rejoice in the fact that no matter how bad their own kids are, atleast they aren't murderers.
Everyone unconnected to the murders must feel a little smug and sanctimonious. I can hear the voices... "This is what comes of spoiling children n giving them too much freedom".
Even when the words are full of pity there's a nasty undercurrent of glee... "I can't imagine how bad it must be for the families of those boys."

This isn't meant to be a criticism. Most people search for silver linings and focus on them when they're trying to pretend that all is well in their world. As long as they focus on pitying someone else, they retain their superior position. That way they don't have to face the fact that it might have been their son. They don't have to wonder... "I don't like the looks of my son's friends. I hope..."

There is also a minority that have faced the fact that it could happen to them and as a result have begun policing their children's lives.

The rest of the people must be like me. I can't dredge up any emotion except a faint stirring of pity for the parents of the accused. I've tried to tell myself that a young boy was murdered. I've tried to feel for the family of the victim. But...
It's true that the first day I was sure the victim had pretended to be kidnapped so as to extract money from his folks. But now that he's dead I ought to feel something. Anything. But... nothing.

Lucid Dreams

2006-08-23T23:55:00.000+05:30

For the past few months I've had many dreams in which I knew that I was dreaming. Since most were terrifying I even managed to extricate myself from them though not without difficulty. Sometimes I managed to wake myself up and on one occasion I dreamt that I woke up. Anyway, it's not something I talk about so I had no idea that it's a common phenomenon called Lucid Dreaming.

The past few days I've been researching Astral Travel as background material for a story I'm writing. The whole concept is fascinating but the best part is that I finally found an everyday explanation for something that I thought was weird. It's great to know that I'm not experiencing something inexplicable.

It makes me hope that many other things that seem insoluble will explain themselves in their own time.

Guinea pigs required for relationship testing.

2006-08-22T23:54:00.000+05:30

Many people I know I getting married next year. Some of them have chosen partners that are a bit 'unexpected'. It's scary how many people decide to settle down with a 'suitable' person just cos they..

a) Don't have the patience to wait; or
b) Are scared of being lonely.

I know many people in relationships who are lonelier than they ever were when they were single. I think it's high expectations that cause the problem.
People assume that just cos they are in a relationship they need never be alone again. They insist on sharing everything n while that may work for a bit in the end it just seems to drive them apart.

On the other hand relationships grow through sharing...

Ok, I give up. Further testing required.

Hmmm... I think some of the couples I know should volunteer as guinea pigs. I'm sure I could keep them busy with my theories for years together :)

Any takers?

Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna

2006-08-21T22:49:00.000+05:30

I don't usually comment on movies unless they are extremely good. But like everyone else I just have to spew forth my opinion on Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna.

Luckily everyone warned me that the movie was unbearable. Those comments lowered my expectations so much that I ended up enjoying the movie. [Ok, maybe not the whole movie.]

I'll start with what I liked about the movie.

1. The songs.
2. Abhishek Bachchan.

Now for the rest...

The dialogues were pathetic. Every cliche ever used in the history of Indian Cinema was reused and stretched into a 5 minute monologue. And every character was a caricature of an archetypal character. The bitter husband with the successful wife. The loving light hearted husband who doesn't take anything seriously and the cold wife.

Ok, the cold wife didn't make much sense to me. But all the rest of the characters reminded me of real people I've met. Unfortunately Karan Johar drew everyone so clearly that it's hard to find the shades of grey that make you identify with the characters. Whoever is good is very very good, and whoever is bad is horrid.

All said n done, go ahead n watch it if you can get a seat on the aisle because the first three hours of the movie are ok. The last half hour however is a new form of torture. I wanted to walk out but there were people on either side so I was trapped. Only Karan Johar would trivialise an extra marital affair n try to turn it into a 'feel good', 'we're all saints here' kind of movie. The end is so bad, if I hadn't cut my nails I'd have started peeling my skin of my body just to distract myself. Since I couldn't do that, I spent that whole agonising half hour reading a book with the light from my mobile.

The odd thing is that though I haven't come across a single person who liked the movie, the damn thing is a hit.

Serendipity

2006-08-20T23:18:00.000+05:30

Serendipity - That's my favourite word. Not for the way it sounds but for what it represents.

My dictionary says it's "Good luck in making unexpected and fortunate discoveries", but to me it's so much more. It's every light that turns green just as you reach it, it's every job offer you receive just when you're wondering where to apply, it's the kitten you find outside your door when you're thinking about adopting one. In short to me it's the exact antithesis of Murphy's Law. Serendipity is what occurs when everything goes right. When every step of the way you can 'feel' the pieces fall into place.

It's what I pray for every day.