All that Jazz

Question.

2012-01-17T11:06:00.000+05:30

“So what was it?” he asked “what stopped you, and what was it between us?” referring to the crackling chemistry that would be flying between us when we were together.

More than 8 years after we put those memories to rest, they came tumbling back, in a conversation in a cab on a familiar route – me dropping him to Church gate station. He and I are great friends, and we’ve been in each other’s lives a long time – his feelings for me notwithstanding.

We met yesterday after more than 2 years – the last time we met, we both were applying for B schools in different parts of the world, not knowing where we’ll be. We were also on top of the helipad of my building – 44 floors above Mumbai overlooking the sprawling city, looking tamed and subdued from our perspective.

So really what was it? He really seemed like every girls dream – much like other boys in my life I couldn’t give myself to... gentle, kind, sincere, smart, sensitive, dimpled [ god, that dimple ]made me feel prettier than I was. I’ll never forget that time we were all going out and I asked him if my Kajal was smudged – he just looked back at me and said ‘You’re asking the guy who thinks you have the most beautiful eyes in the world’ Now, I would listen to that and shrug and assume it’s a cliché.. yesterday he tells me they weren’t – that he meant it. I’ll never forget that time in the rick when he suddenly held my hand for a few mins and traced all my lifelines as though committing to memory – when I asked him what happened and why he was holding my hand, and doing what he was he said ‘I’ll never get to hold this hand as though its mine, and I don’t know when ill hold it again’

I told him that yesterday – that we would have been horrible together and that’s why I never said yes. That I would’ve stifled the free spirit bullet rider in him. “Hello! Do u realize what a free independent crazy person you are, how could you have stifled me?” I had nothing to say.

I told him I was a spoilt South Mumbai girl and that he would’ve gotten tired of my hangups. “Basically the very things I adored?” he asked.

We never dated but we had this chemistry, these things which he’d keep saying and I’d brush off, those random moments when he’s do something so simple – draw my graphs for me in engineering cause he knew I’m horrible at being precise, brush a strand of hair across my face when I was intently trying to get my isometric drawing right. We had this thing where I would just be speechless or time would stand still for a few minutes – yet I couldn’t get myself to say ‘yes’

“I would’ve gone the distance ” he said and he smiled that smile which I remember so vividly. That smile urging me to let go, to say yes, to give in, to belong.

And with that, Churchgate station arrived all too soon, he got off the cab, this time with a handshake – wished me happiness and I wished him luck for his impending marriage in 8 months.

This finding the ‘right person’ business is quite annoying. Why can’t I just get myself to like a ‘nice person’ instead? There seem to be plenty of those in my life!

The right before I left home post

2012-01-17T11:05:00.001+05:30

And just like that, its time for goodbyes again. The new year begins and my 5 weeks at home draw to an end. Its amazing, how 3 weeks ago I felt like I wasn’t fitting into the puzzle, I was strangely removed from my old life.. but suddenly everything fits – the clothes, the life – everything. I’ve grown to drive over the bumps and grumble under my breath and then move on, to learn to cuddle up to mom and answer incessant questions, to text her once I get back home at night even though she’s in the next room. Teeny things like that which I had forgotten. This week will be tough. I hate goodbyes. I especially hate doing them twice. Saying it to parents is even tougher. To moms? It’s just cruel. Specially mine. She tries to play the strong girl card but it never works. Last year on my way to the airport I left my hairclip clipped on the car handle on the roof – this year when my dad picked me up, 1.5 years later, the clip was still there. My cupboard, still had the same old clothes I had left behind – only washed and ironed. Ma hadn’t moved a thing.

This departure is hard.. I leave not knowing when Ill be back, or how different things will be when I am. Most of my friends are married or engaged or on the brink of being either one of the two. Most of my best friends are boys [ the ratio of men : women in engineering colleges in India is 90:10 ] therefore when they’re married our equations will change. Most of their girlfriends hated me – why wont the wives?! This time when I leave it seems more indefinite.. uncertain.

The trip home was amazing.. goa was just an absolute blast. The road trip was 3 people in a scorpio – the most cosy drive ever (for me, sleeping sprawled in the back seat), and the 4 days were just phenomenal. I have some special moments I’d like to store away…

Like when D and me walked the entire stretch of Morjim beach and spoke about the last 10 years and then made a bucket list and a 5y/10y plan in the sand. That bucket list is another blog post. We had overpriced coconut water and spoke about all our what if’s and thank god its over relationships and the last 10 years of our lives..

Abhi and I stole time away the same evening, at Club Fresh Morjim beach [ SUPERLOVE the place] and spoke about everything we didn’t speak about in the last 10 years – wat his life was really like in America, what he never told me cause I was too much of a prude and too conservative haha – how times change! We exchanged gossip and scandals –me not so much, but it was fun getting to know the parallel life of someone so close to me who had to hide things from me just so that he stays in my good books.

One time when I was in the last seat in the Scorpio and I could see 6 people ahead of me, grooving to the music as we drove down to the beach… I don’t know what it was about that moment as I looked at 6 of us, 28 year olds – I felt 16 all over again, naive and innocent… I watched D make that same hand dance movement he does since the last 15 years, Rush look grumpy as he drove, K and Cy (a new +1 to the group) hold hands. Abhi check his bb for the 99^th time that hour and me in the last seat looking at how everyone was just together, yet apart – strung together by the music, this trip and countless years of memories. Everything and everyone just froze for a few moments and a snapshot remains in my mind..

We spent each night partying – the last night at Hype made me feel 45 years old what with 18 year old children dancing around us. At a.m. there were more of these kids asleep on the chairs outside and drunk sitting on the floor than there were inside dancing. That separates the men from the boys and the children from the adults I guess :-/ Only I wish I was the child in this situation – Someone needs to make the impending 30’s go away!! Ugh! Remind me to make the most of these 2 years please?

Unlike last new years which I spent asleep in LA after spending 30^th and 31^st standing in lines at Universal studios and Sea World, and the new year before that which I spent at my helipad shunning the big commercial party my friends went to, this year I went. To a big new year party, the kind I don’t like. 90 people, commercial music, unlimited food and alcohol a bomb on the wallet – all that. A private party at a private bungalow in Madh island. I had a blast! I am such a disbeliever in partying on new year’s – especially in Mumbai. It’s the most overrated night of the year- you pay five times as much to drink the same alcohol you would on a normal night, you spend an average of 3-6 hours travelling by car, and most of the times, the alcohol and food is almost over by the time you get there.

This party was different – it was well organized [ Kudos to Dev, Dar, Rush ], the cocktails were amazing, the food was brilliant and never ran out and the music was insane!

In Hindsight

2012-01-16T12:31:00.002+05:30

Its 1 a.m. and Im wide awake. Thanks Jetlag. Slept from 3 p.m. 8 p.m. against all wise thoughts advising me against.

Got back yesterday and went straight to my other home - V's house. It felt like the last time when I first came to the US... going to V and Ro's house and staying with them. it was different though - living with them and another friend for the first 10 days away from home felt more like a picnic than like I had moved away. This time, I came back to an empty house. I felt miserable.

All those things I went back to Mumbai saying I loved about America suddenly felt overrated and not so nice. The quietness for example - when I first got to Mumbai i couldnt sleep with the constant humdrum of traffic or street dogs or something or the other and was telling my mom how quiet my room in America is. Last night I was haunted by the tick-tock of the clock in my room and the sound of my own breathing. I almost wanted it to rain to drown it out..

Everything in the last two days seem dull, tasteless and out of place. When I reached Mumbai I felt strangely removed, and now that I'm back in the US I feel the same.. where do I belong?

My clothes all fit the hangers in the empty space in my closet here - and I hated that. I hated that i had a suitcase full of stuff which actually fits in my closet here... i hate the radio with the Bobby brown show which plays the same 15 songs over and over and there's no masala for me to crib about.

I missed my space in Mumbai and now I miss the people. I spent the last two days just getting my routine back - cleaned my house, got my groceries, washed my car - all feeling listless. I shouldnt have made my laptop wallpaper the picture of my family, its making it harder. What was worse was that I forgot my charger at V's house on saturday and my phone was off for a day and a half and through feeling terrible, I couldnt make any calls :-/

I hate having the room all to myself and not having my brother around to talk to before sleeping. I thought i loved this, clearly not. I hate not having to tell anyone what my plans are for the day or what time Im coming home. it makes me feel more grown up than I want to..

I thought it would be easy this time. I hadnt gone back last december because I knew I'd never settle in - so I travelled instead. I thought this time, since I have a routine, a car, tonnes of awesome friends, a semester to look forward to, it would be easier. It really wasn't.

A little part of me

2011-12-25T23:27:00.003+05:30

That's IT! I'm imposing a self-imposed ban on me watching romantic movies. After careful consideration and analysis of all case facts [ i.e. how involved I get and how I cry, no matter how BAD the movie ] I have concluded that I, am EXACTLY the kind of SUCKER these movies target. No really, You know those calm, smart, otherwise assertive, independent women who CRY at rainy kissing scenes? YEP. those stupid kinds. Where do my brains go to graze during these mindless movies? and WHY do I like them so much?

Case in point : The Backup plan - Starring Jennifer freaking Lopez and some really cute guy who I dont know but in 30 mins decided I have a huge crush on. Just like ALL the other romantic movies I watch by the end of which I'm undoubtedly in love with the arrogant but adorable, macho but sensitive, asshol-ish but misunderstood man. GAH! I mean COME ON! Now this movie is STRICTLY OK. now that the TV is OFF, i can say it. its a stupid movie. but while I was watching it? I was a whole different person! I was engulfed in the pain and agony of being pregnant and meeting the right guy, I was humming the music and nodding my head and getting angry at JLO for leaving this guy and PINING for that kiss to happen and hoping that the pennies all turn up heads and all that other nonsense.

Case 2: Made of Honour another TERRIBLE movie which I have watched THRICE for the love of my life Patrick Dempsey [ Dr. McDreamy ] That movie is just one cliche after the other but I endure it time and time again ugh im so angry at myself now!

But most importantly, Im angry cause these movies set expectations. They make things seem prettier and more charming than they ever really are. They play music and bells when there aren't really any in real life, there are proposals in horse carriages and hot air balloons and snow capped mountain lodges which are one in a zillion in life and they show men who know exactly where to hold a womans face while kissing her and exactly how sweep her off her feet and woo her and insist she dates them and make your tummy knotty with that sweet and short but long and lingering kiss.. That doesn't really happen in real life and fools like me who wait for those 'butterflies' and that grand gesture and for the heavens to come together and send a sign should just learn to get a grip.

Choosing my religion

2011-12-21T18:31:00.005+05:30

I'm here. Home. Mumbai i.e. It was necessary to specify because just a few days ago I was looking for something in my suitcase and said that I had forgotten it at home (i.e. America) - My mom's face changed colors and dropped her smile when she realized what I had said. "HOME?" she said with that scary arched eyebrow.

It feels weird though, I dint just fit back in like nothing had changed. I dint just pick up from where I left off. Mumbai has moved on without me, its swelling burgeoning population and traffic woes and me-first attitude has left me behind a little bit. My friends are the same in some regards, I see the same light hearted attitude, the same childish jokes and taking each others cases, albeit with a slightly somber vein - everyone's looking to get hitched. The one's who are seeing someone are getting married (I'm attending two weddings this month) and the one's who are not are really really wired up about finding someone. I feel slightly disconnected from them too, in a way. Last night at a dinner party, I was the ONLY single person in a room of 6 couples. [ Dear Bridget Jones, I NOW understand your pain ]

But most of all, I feel like I've drifted away from me. Gone is that girl who woke up bubbling with conversation and ready to get going to meet a ton of people that day, and here is a girl who wakes up and wants to have her tea quietly reading the newspaper for the first hour of the day. I didn't realize how used to myself I had gotten, and while I'm still a very people's person my definition of 'space' has altered significantly. While a few years ago it would be those few minutes in the day when I'd steal some time off, now its my mornings and my evenings before I wake up and before I get into bed. Here is a person who is still as big as extrovert as she used to be, maybe more, but who now gets her energy from intraversion. That time when I get back home everyday to my big clean room and just space out? That's recharging time. Which I dont get here AT ALL.

Watching TV, Surfing the internet, reading the paper are all activities which are freely interrupted by people and questions and phone calls and mom and dad and I've realized I need that space. It scares me a little.. the implications of this. How will this translate into married life? What if I ever have to move home?

At the dinner party on tuesday, one couple living and working in Seattle has been plagued with the 'should we move home' question. They want to start a family and think living around grandparents instills values in children which nothing can compensate. ALL of the people in the room that night have studied in the US, (save for me who is still doing so) and have moved back, begrudgingly. Naturally the conversation erupted into a cacophony of protests (NO, DONT even think of moving back), dismay (ARE U SERIOUS! u want to move back to this hellhole?), advice, and pros and cons. I kept quiet - I dint know this couple well enough to impose my opinion and also wanted to see the discussion evolve from the point of view of people who've seen both worlds, and moved back and adjusted to life here. The result was unanimous : except for one girl, everyone else (sample size 11 people) was of the opinion that given a choice, they'd live away. Be it the moral bankruptcy, corruption, breakdown of infrastructure, traffic, pollution or the bureaucracy - there was a reason why everyone hated Mumbai. Resigned to their destinies of having moved back and now left with no choice almost. When did this happen? When did Mumbai become a place of resignation and so much subdued angst? It is pertinent to say that this conversation took place on the 10th floor of a very posh flat in Breach Candy in South Mumbai, the most luxurious part of Mumbai, and each couple in the room lived in the stretch of land between Cuffe Parade - Breach Candy with Mercs and BMW's for cars. Point being - this is the opinion of people living in the lap of luxury - I shudder to think of the Aunty getting on the Churchgate - Virar local everyday.

In the last decade, Mumbai (or India as a whole?) has slowly gone through a process of degrading its quality of life, confidence in politicians and systems, a slowing down (and eventual breakdown) of infrastructure, an exponential increase in pollution and decrease in civic sense.. something I was blind to when I was madly in love with this city. I still love it dearly, but now there's a certain wistfulness in my gaze when I look out at marine drive and long for the clear skies and the sun kissed horizon, and am instead met with a blanket of smog. I look for that occasional interesting conversation with the cab driver and am instead met with a bitter fight over one rupee of change.

I've changed... Mumbai's changed.

Ball of Twine ...

2011-11-15T10:36:00.001+05:30

If the world was going to end
and only one thing could be mine,
I would go around the bend
and buy a ball of twine...

A ball of twine is all I need to tie you to my dreams,
to tie the laughter, tie the tears and tie up all the screams

and tie up all the songs we heard and all the pretty tunes
and tie up your description of the moon on the sand dunes

tie up shampoo, tie up letters written during class
tie up being in line together for the season pass

tie up going home together though we lived so far
tie up rickshaws, tie up trains and not having a car

tie up chatting through the night, tie up the phone calls
tie up all the truth we had and tie up all the false

tie up lying in bed all day and tie up being nude
tie up watching tv taking turns to cook the food

tie up playing games and tie up leaving you a mark
tie up holding you when you were scared of the dark

tie up seventh, tie up six, tie up fifty five
tie up never dancing with you when you want to jive

tie up when the world conspired against the two of us
tie up being stuck in traffic in the AC bus

tie up 5 stars, tie up vada breakfast at satkar
tie up rum and coke and tie up singing and guitar

tie up how we prayed together when we went to bed
tie up everything we'd done and everything we'd said

tie up how you left me once and tie up getting back
tie up everything we had and everything we lack

tie up till eternity, tie up no matter what
tie up being happy, tie up sometimes being not

It may take forever or it may take a while
but i won't stop till i've tied up
every single smile

And when i'm done collecting us, this is what I'll do -
I'll label them "what could have been"
and send them home to you.

~Anon [ not me ]

Home?

2011-11-06T02:29:00.003+05:30

I was driving to the airport to pick up a friend last night and thought about my impending visit home. I realized since the last few days I'm going over the moment of first sight - the second my eyes see my mom, and dad, and friends at the airport.. I obsess over the details of what I'll be wearing and what my mom and dad will look like- will they have more grey hair, will my dad be wearing his 1986 corduroys which he's been obsessing about getting into since the past year? As I turned into a lane leading to the airport I actually turned towards my house in Mumbai, all the visuals replaced by familiar shadows of the trees and buildings dotting the skyline... I snapped out of it a few seconds later when my phone reminded me that I was still here.. far far away..

Its amazing how significant that moment is to me .. its been 1.5 years away from home for me, the longest I've ever lived apart from family. It is certainly true that I've molded into being more 'single' and independent than I ever was - but yet, I cant wait to get back to being that girl in her house, in that comfort bubble where she doesn't have to fret about bills and laundry and the next months rent. Where she can just lay back and have tea ready and transcend into that mini escape from reality called moms lap.

Much as I await my trip, I am also antsy about how these past 1.5 years will play out in the month that Im home. Being OVER COMMITTED in extracurricular student activities, as well as working off campus 20 hours a day, PLUS school work (which an at MBA level here is dizzying) means I am paralyzed if i don't check my email 36 times a day (if not more). My first instinct after I turn off my alarm is to check email to see if anything earth shattering happened in the 6 hours that I slept. I shudder that much as I look forward to a month at home having nothing to do, I might yearn for the frenetic pace of my life here.

I worry that I have become too 'business ish'. The other day in conversation with a really close friend whose married and pregnant, I was surprised how bored I was talking about the same ol group of friends back home - gossip that was meaningless, redundant and a waste of time. I remember these same conversations two years ago which would be fun, chatty, tingling with scandal - and how indulging in it would be as interesting as a conversation on the economic proliferation of China. Not anymore!

How different getting into that plane on the way back is going to be - last year when i got into the flight here, i was throwing myself into uncertainty, (i didnt know i then, but also misery) I dint have a house rented, only 2 bags of stuff to my name. I was nervous and excited and till date i cannot reconcile which was the predominant feeling. This time though, ill come back to a nice house with a new roomate, my car which i think spend 30% of my time in.. an established circle of friends, and the last semester of the MBA. where has the time gone, and how did I grow up so soon?

Those things..

2011-11-04T10:51:00.002+05:30

I realized today how there are some things in life that we just take for granted - or rather I do. For instance - getting and keeping a job, humor, age, good friends, family.. the list actually is longer than I expected. I assume that I am entitled to all of the above, and maybe so - but thats not always the case, and having some or all of them isnt a right, but a privilege.

I am working part time as i study right now at the company where I interned over the summer.. today this company laid off a sizeable chunk of its global workforce. I was at work when it happened and was completely shaken up. The atmosphere was gloomy, there were guards everywhere, cubes looked empty - all in all, it was eerie as hell.

Thats when I thought of the 50 year old man with the wife and two kids whose going home to tell his family that after 25 years at a company doing what he did best, or doing the only thing he knew - he no longer had a job. That too, in this economy with even fewer jobs in the market - even fewer for older recruits who havent been nimble in their career...

I thought of my own education loan and how important it is for me to earn in $$ - how vital it is to my career to get a job from my graduation to make it economically a viable investment of the two years of my life -and then I think about how easily i signed my offer letter, and how in my mind I assumed it was coming.. What if it had'nt? What if that 50 year old man was me? I am a huge proponent of not second guessing oneself and I am rarely the one to do so.. but today was a wake up call - one to be thankful for what I have and who I have.. to be aware of my privileges and cognizant of my luxuries..

The two people from my team who got laid off, i dont even know, but as I heard about them, I had tears in my eyes.. on a conference call with our VP he was telling us about the marketing department that has 40% of the team gone.. and to be sensitive to them and I had goosebumps.

These past 1.5 years in a new country have just been all kinds of experiences... learning to cope has been a challenge, but i hope to look back at these times and have become a better stonger person then..

Personal Ethical Dilemna?

2011-10-19T09:08:00.001+05:30

This is a dilemma I faced just before coming to Business school in the US. For sake of context, I lived in Mumbai, India before school and this is where my story took place.

Not being funded by a scholarship for school, I applied for a bank loan to cover the first year tuition bill. My second year will be funded by my father – that’s how we decided it will be since the Indian government stipulates a maximum loan amount that may be granted and that would only cover my first year fee. Being an international student, with no scholarship it’s easy to imagine the monetary implications of attending school. I knew I really needed that loan for the first year. We applied to the State bank of India for a loan and began the extremely tedious and bureaucratic process of getting out papers together, making a million trips between the bank, home and other offices. To put time in perspective, we began this process 3 months before I was to start school.

It was a month before we had all the paperwork they needed – as a collateral for the loan, it wasn’t enough that we had enough cash, securities and other investments to more than cover the loan, they needed a property mortgage. We then got all the papers required to mortgage the house we lived in as collateral – there was only one problem. From when we bought the house to when we moved in, the builder re-numbered all the houses and consequently even though our sale deed said we lived in apartment 502, we actually lived in 503. This was of course, an issue with the bank since they go through a rigorous validation process and this wasn’t acceptable.

We did everything else we could: register for a new sale deed, get a notarized letter from a lawyer stating that we have applied for a new deed and that this was the fault of the builder, and is being rectified – to no avail. The bank loan from SBI fell through. We approached a few other banks to the same result – no loan until this was sorted out.

India is a bureaucratic society and any legal paperwork takes months, years to process. As the clock was ticking and I was a month away from moving to school and still no loan, one last option presented itself to us – pay a bribe of 75,000 Rs. And get the sale deed accelerated in time to apply and be approved for the loan.

While this is an easy solution to many India – which explains the heart of the deep rooted corruption, it was no easy decision for us. My father served the Indian Navy for 24 years, and is a man of great honor and respect. He holds himself accountable to higher standards of ethics than Indian society dictates. Being his daughter, I live by his principles as well. This was a real quandary. Just to quantify the magnitude – the loan would cover 2,000,000 Rs. Worth of my first year fees while my father would pay the second year AS WELL AS my living expenses for the first year. Its not a small sum of money – not getting the loan would mean borrowing more than 5Million Rs. from my dad at an age where he needs to retire and lead a stress free life. That was unacceptable to me. On the other hand, paying a bribe was letting down myself in my own standards, wasting hard earned money, supporting corruption and giving that man more incentive to continue doing so AND hating the society even more. That was also unacceptable to me.

Meanwhile, the clock was ticking. We now had about 3 weeks – JUST enough time to make it work. A few days later, and the loan would not be approved in time. At the time, all the options I was weighing were looking gloomy – I had no family in the US, no one to co-sign a US loan, taking 5Million rupees from my dad was not a solution either.

This was an ethical personal dilemma at its very excruciating best. I could see my father torn between doing the right thing and what wasn’t. Funnily enough, talking to friends and family about this evoked the same reaction “Why is this issue? Of course you need to pay him, and get it done with – everyone does it. No work gets done around here if you don’t pay”. And we did.

I regret that that’s the route we had to go – I could see my dad and I both regretting the fact that we let our moral compass waver, we oiled the squeaky wheel of corruption and did what we both abhor – sway with the direction society swayed in.

It’s easy to be judgmental about being good – and to assume that bad people do bad things. Until then, I assumed people who gave bribes are most definitely people who took them too. Until I did it. I assumed society is spoiled by illiterate, criminals, crooks, corrupt politicians or people who simply dint know better – but that’s not the case either. Bad people aren't the only ones making bad decisions... clearly.

"Experience is the name every one gives to their mistakes"

2011-07-23T11:29:00.003+05:30

Now this is what a great film is all about. Stealing you away from yourself, filling your mind with delicious poetry and leaving you with a half nostalgic half melancholy tingle. Making you come home and linger. Zindagi na mile dobara turned out to be the fantastic film I dint expect it to be.

After reading RAVE reviews about Delhi Belly i was sorely disappointed with inane jokes, misplaced humor and juvenile shit related innuendos. God save Bollywood if this was the future. Which explains my apprehension for ZNMD. I was so, so wrong.

Zindagi.. is a film which takes three friends on a trip, only to find themselves, and face their greatest fears. Its an ambitious movie at that - I wonder if Zoya wanted us to leave the theatre thinking about our own unfulfilled destinies, unanswered questions and about the what could have been's. The poetry threading the movie along, neatly weaving a web around silences, and injecting meaning in pregnant pauses did exactly what it was meant to - create a song of melancholy around the frames, adding the rhythmn to voices and thoughts and intertwining them in soulful words.

How many of us have courage to face our own fears I wonder? I vascillate between a realist and an escapist often. There are times when I'm forthright about what Im facing and wishing I oculd avoid, and there have been times when I've blocked out something from my mind- and even from those of my friends, neatly concealing thoughts and flutters in my heartbeat lest they let out a clue, methodically leaving out traces of it from even this blog. And then again, one fine day ill lay my heart bare. Between the what is, what could have been and what I really want, my mind sometimes is a mishmash of wishes and wants, of longs and desires, of moments hidden away unlocked time and again, of a secret memory beknowest only to me and the other keeper, of parallel futures and alternate endings. I've made a LOT of mistakes along the way and sometimes my greatest fear is the one thing I've lived my life by - being true to myself. The fine line between being true to yourself and being fooled by your own thoughts, your own being drifting to the outside of you, urging you to do something radical - call off a wedding, move countries, break up with someone.. what if the true inner self is just a big joke? a mockery of rationale? a cruel incarnation of a reason to justify your actions? What if?

My home

2011-07-22T03:10:00.003+05:30

Last week, when I was at work - I opened google to look for some competitive info on Apple and the first news link I saw was Mumbai attacked - 3 serial blasts... I dint even bother to open the link and read the story and immediately dialed home. Panic ensued as I saw Zaveri Bazar, Dadar west, Opera House -- places where a lot of my friends live, work or could be. I couldnt get through to anyone, and that moment everything dulled into motionless silence. My fingers were trembling as I dialed mom repeatedly, cursing the calling card lenghty procedures, and thinking of the worst case scenarios.. Even after I got through to mom, dad remained out of contact as he was travelling in from out of town that day and we spent 4 hours out of contact with him, many of which had me sitting at work, trembling at my blurry screen with my phone buzzing with friends in the US asking about my family. I felt numb.

I wrote to a friend of mine who lives in Mumbai if his family was ok -and was enraged to see his response -- " Yep, my friends and family are fine :)" SMILEY FACE. i wrote back a nasty one liner saying im glad, but Mumbai was bombed - thrice, there was nothing to smile about. I feel bad at having judged him, but I have no tolerance for people whose lives are focused only around their frinds and family.. life's much bigger than that. even when my dad came home after 26/11 safe and sound after such an experience, we did not celebrate, it was a small respite. We mourned for the people who left us, for the wounds of the attack and for the attack on our souls.

Whats different this time and what ALL the media is writing about is 'indifference' -- has mumbai's spirit has been misunderstood all along? I want to say no, but circumstances prove otherwise. When i spoke to my mom i was sobbing, far far away from home, helpless and frustrated and angry and sad for my city -- while my mom calmed me saying 'what are you doing crying? nothing can be done about this. we had 3 years of peace, now a days even thats a lot'. I was angry. I messaged a friend back home who was at a bar whol told me people continued to be at the bar even post this incident. All the newspaper articles, media interviews, seem like reruns - still fresh in my ears from 26/11. The angry cliches, the frustrated citizens, each network hoping and trying to depict a facet of the attacks which no other networks would. Each channel 'BREAKING NEWS' again and again.

And then i think of resilience. I dont have the patience, naivete, or will to listen to empty promises, finger pointing and more of the same ol same ol. I think of my city after the train blasts. after 26/11 blasts. after blasts in Pune, after blasts last week. seems routine now, more mundane. These blasts were apparently of 'medium' intensity since ONLY '22' people died.
Apparently the cost of a life goes up every few years - the government thinks a sizeable compensation is its only duty. Funny, how the safest man in Mumbai is probably one who was a part of kiling 250 of us - Kasab. each day he lives, its a mockery of our system. India needs to be more aggresive before people take us seriously. and that can happen only when it makes it clear to the rest of the world that it means business when it comes to its citizens. I dont feel like my government does - why would anyone else??

Identification?

2011-07-11T03:49:00.005+05:30

Lately I've been noticing very keenly the behavior of other Indians in my surroundings, particularly since I realized there are certain traits which are a very recurrent, and specific habit. Let me name a few.

At the gym at work, there was an elliptical which was not working and would make LOUD disturbing sounds if you stepped on it and worked it. I once got on, and got off a minute later realizing its not working. HOWEVER, 5 minutes later another guy (Indian) got on, and used it for 45 mins basically making enough noise to overpower the gym music and create a nuisance for everyone around. The next day, there was another guy (also Indian) using the same noisy machine and the next and the next until finally the management put up a board saying it does not work. It is beyond me how 4 grown men can ignore loud noisy rattles from a machine for prolonged periods and not notice what a racket they were making. EVERYONE else seemed to realize the machine was not working, save for these (all Indian) I keep trying to tell myself its a coincidence, but how?

Another gym related incident, C and I work out together and were on two side by side ellipticals watching Seinfeld on the television RIGHT IN FRONT OF US. A guy (Indian) came up on the elliptical next to C, walked over to the television and switched channels without asking us. I was shocked - i could understand if he did so if C and I were chatting, or on our headphones and not watching, but we clearly were. Was'nt this basic courtesy?

Today at our world cast, the webcast done by our CFO and interim CEO - we had a host of C level executives address a crowd which was full of employees, online viewers, academia, consultants, bankers and such. Our CFO, CTO and other executives were well turned out in either a suit jacket with a nice chirt and pants or a nice formal shirt and pants. HOWEVER, our CORPORATE VP, is an Indian and he got up to address the audience (of over 250 people) in a shirt that looked unironed and with HUGE sweat marks on his arms and stomach, the shirt was untucked. Now Im usually NOT the one to judge on appearances, but this time, YES. I think i wasnt the only one who winced at the size of those sweat baubles on his shirt. You wouldve thought that if your addressing a crowd this big, with stakeholders involved, you'd make somewhat of an effort? Now I understand sweating is a problem for many, specially Asians. I m prone to sweat like a man sometimes as well BUT when i know i am going to be at an important event and If i know I am goign to be out in the sun / somwhere sweaty I will carry a change. the result was that of all the executives who stood on stage and spoke, the Corp VP, Indian - looked the LEAST professional - to the point where it was awkward. WHY?!!!!

I knew this had to happen at some point. workign with an Indian vendor - given the level of outsourcing. I was definitely not prepared for this - when i wrote in for a simple request, the agency wrote back to me doubling over backwards in apologies and sorry's and thank you's. I remember my time at the agency - while we were client servicing - i dont remember being subservient to the point that my emails contained 100's of apologies.

I'm not sure what exactly the point im making here is. I just wish that with the amount of talent my country has, we'd just learn to carry ourselves a little better in society, and COMMAND respect.

One of those weeks

2011-07-07T23:51:00.002+05:30

When I overslept my alarm, ran out of bed on tuesday and spent the rest of the day cranky.

The wednesday event was my car battery running out and me freaking out for a while not knowign what it was. This is my first time owning a car and therefore anything unusual is scary. specially in America where everything costs $$$ to fix. Anyway, the good thing is, a (girl)friend came over with jumper cables and we jumped the battery together! New experiences rock!

Thursday started with my manager scheduling two meetings with me, AT MIDNIGHT (for the next day afternoon) and I woke up with my iphone beeping with my meeting invites. I of course dint sleep well wondering what I did and all sorts of scary thoughts of me having made a HUGE mistake and what not. I woke up today and as usual, packed my lunch and a snack and promptly forgot it at home. argh. See what I mean about one of those weeks?

On the other hand, one of my (ex?)best friends back home is getting married. We used to be inseparable. Like one of those movie best friendships which werent meant to last. And of course ours dint. I went and fell in love with him and dint accept it to myself, or to him, complete in the illusion that my love was platonic. A complete breakdown of conversation later and a whole lot of nasty exchange of words later I ended the line of communication. There are numerous versions of why we stopped talking floating in my circle of friends - but the truth is that at one point there was no respect. He was rude and insensitive in many of the things he did before and after we stopped talking - and I am a woman of pride.

The funny thing is there were so many windows - for us to get back to being close, being cordial, friendly and then finally formal. But one way or the other we both missed those windows - and things were left as is.

Today as he gets married I think back to those naive conversations we had where we spoke of each others weddings and being the lead dance practice person, the main go to person at the wedding, the head honcho if you will - and those silly little dreams of always being friends. I think one reason why I can never forgive him is not for what he said and did, I probably said equally mean things - but for how he treated the friendship and me, after it was over.

I respect any and every person who meant something to me and value the impact they had on my life once upon a time... but what he did is subject it to public scrutiny and ridicule. Something which hurt more than I can ever tell anyone. He knowingly got extremely close to my best friend and hung out with her every weekend (and now they're still really really) close - a phase which was difficult for me to deal with. Still, I refused to be the smaller person and ask my best friend not to talk to him. (it would have been easier to deal with things, but I couldnt get myself to let him know how much he hurt me)

STILL, at the end of the day, we were best friends for 4 years and what years those were! And for that, I will always cherish those memories and I couldnt be happier that he found love in a beautiful, wonderful girl who truly keeps him happy. I wish I was a part of his wedding and even his life, but neither are possible and I have no regrets.

Its just funny when you think some friends are there to stay - but they really arent. Or when you think something will last forever - but it really wont.

The Long weekend

2011-07-05T08:38:00.003+05:30

Today was my first 4th of July in the US. Pity Texas is so dry they cancelled the fireworks so I couldnt really celebrate US style - since of course I am also not eating the SUPER pretty red blue and white cupcakes, pies and what nots in grocery stores. I am such a sucker for sweet things, I literally crawl pas the desert aisle at HEB looking like a homeless hungry poor person who deserves to eat a cupcake, or a red velvet cake. ARGH. clearly losing weight is going to take more willpower than I imagined.

This was also my first long weekend holiday - in school a long weekend basically meant getting beat up with more project work and/or more time to study so I never really got the feeling of having time 'off' but this really felt good. I spent saturday shopping at an outlet mall with admirable constraint on my expenditures and then went to the San Antonio riverwalk for dinner. Its such a cute, quaint place, i love it! of course the 500 degree heat adds to the charm (not)

Sunday was spent eating at what has become my sunday brunch favorite - Madras Pavillion -- the dosas, idlis and wadas there are so authentic - its like being at a kamat right in Mumbai. of course paying $15 for the buffet takes away from the Rs. 25 dosa feeling, but what the heck. What was interesting was the chaos this place was in. One manager, 2 cleaning ladies were the only staff managing about 70 people and a buffet line. of course, it was SHEER pandemonium.

There was a line of people waiting to be seated at empty tables that still needed to be cleaned and there were people who needed to pay and there were people seated who couldnt eat since the buffet line had run out of dishes. As MBA students of course, the 3 of us, Shobit, Ro and I delved into a conversation of 'bottlenecks' and 'operational inefficiency' and almost designed a business plan for reshaping the way the situation was being handled. MBA's I tell you.

I also watched Transformers 3D. Now while I am a great fan of the franchise, I fail to understand how Megan Fox in T2 and Rosie huntingdon whitley in T3 can run around in grave risk of dying around decepticons and what not LOOKING SPOTLESS and in HIGH heels. Rosie at least had a (somewhat) pivotal conversation with a decepticon but I could never understand why Megan Fox spent so much time and effort promoting her blinknmiss it role in T2. OR why she needed to be so scantily dressed. OR why she needed to be puckered up ALL the time.

Cars2 was definitely awesome, never mind the fact that I dragged Ro convincing him that there will be adults there as well.. only to find out later that all the other adults came with THEIR KIDS. still, i loved it. Mater was the star of the movie, not lightning Mcqueen, anyday. Next up, Harry Potter7! Cant wait!

Also, will be moving homes again - this time to the next years lease. NOT looking forward to the packing/unpacking mess ESPECIALLY with work and not having any time to do both and settle in. PLUS the new house will feel lonelier since it will be a 2b/2b and my roomie will move in only once school starts.. since this was a 1b/1b it felt cosy. Doing the whole routine again is so not cool.

The Airport day

2011-07-02T03:25:00.004+05:30

Next week it will have been a year since I moved countries. This morning on my way to work as I spoke to my mom, I brought up the subject of how, this time last year I was beginning to pack and the farewell parties had begun and what not. It was also when I started 'feeling' things more.. sleeping on my own bed, luxurious hugs from mom and dad and my brother, the pitter patter of rain on my window, the friend from out of town (Scarlett) who came over who I wasnt sure when I'd see again, home cooked food - it all had an expiry date of two weeks since I left home July 17th 2010.
It was today that mom told me how she felt those first 24 hours when I was travelling and out of contact and I was teary eyed just relivign that farewell. It was my first time moving away from home and that too, to the other end of the world. My mom and I are very close and she means the world to me. I spent 3 months at home having quit my job well in advance and knowing I wanted to savour the last 3 debt free months of my life. She told me about how empty and lifeless the house felt, how some things of mine strewed around the house upset her and reminded me of her absence. It's funny how I feel as though my mom is half of me.. she completes me, she is really, my best friend. The first few months when I was here, she would ask what I was eating and when I would say junk like cereal for dinner she'd be upset - its now that she knows im cooking and eating good food that she feels truly settled and comfortable with me being so far away.
That last bye at the airport -- i remember how hard we all tried not to cry. In true Indian fashion, I had my whole group of friends of them, my mom dad, bro, and a friends mom who is very close to me... that last hug, its funny how rationale takes a side seat as holding on to a person wishing the moment dint end actually feels like it might happen if u hug hard enough. I think I hugged my mom a million times. My dad came with me till the security check since he has an airport pass... that was the hardest. When I kneeled down to touch his feet for blessings right before I left, I just couldnt hold it in, and cried as I am now, thinking of that moment, forever engraved. Dad's try to be so macho, mine more so from his defence background. That day, not so much. He was angry at me for being overweight with the bags and kept trying to use it as an excuse but couldnt manage when I said that final bye.
My mom gave me a note to read in the plane from all of them and it was a letter with a few lines from mom, dad and my brother. All wishing me luck and success and do them proud. I hope I do.
For all that I gave up, and they did, I hope I never forget what I'm here for.

The ARGHHHH files

2011-06-30T21:26:00.004+05:30

How to fail a driving test 6 times in the USA (while havign driven 6 years in the rest of the world).

rolling stop at stop signs

taking a right turn from a not-so-rightmost lane

not yielding to vehicle on main road

even though the right turn is FREE, STOP COMPLETELY and then turn

hit a curb while parallel parking

not stop for 'long enough' at the stop sign according to the instructor

LIKE SERIOUSLY? Is this really happening?

And to top if off, How NOT to get paid 3 weeks in a row.

Forget to fill your timesheet in before the hardstop Monday 11am deadline. For this I AM PISSED OFF. Hello, Im an intern, please TELL me when Im supposed to do these things SPECIALLY if i wont get paid for it.

Have your manager forget to approve it. PLEASE HR, inform our full time managers who dont fill time sheets that they're important to us measly Interns.

I fail to understand why Im running up against all these administrative hurdles. EVERYONE else seems to be doing ok! A friend of mine, who I DRAGGED to the DMV got his license at the first try, and he dint even study for the written!! I TALKED him through all the important things and he's done! I JUST WANT MY LICENSE AND I JUST WANT TO GET PAID.
Too much to ask for? And also, its that time of month. why not just make sure my week tumbles to the secret compartment below the bottom of the barrel of shit, right?

The Consultant type

2011-06-29T22:37:00.002+05:30

With NO apologies for typecasting and acknowledging that exceptions DO exist, my MAJOR peeves with consultant (ex or present) colleagues and or bosses.

Talk at the speed of light as though being billed for each word

A-N-A-L about font colors, size and format. I'm a stickler for neatness and clean classic slides as well but I wont make someone 'do-over' an entire ppt over the header color.

Backtrack like its free. Mycurrent boss, an ex consultant has backtracked on so many things she's wanted me to do. Luckily I write. and draw. each thing during our meeting. which means I can pull out 'remember u had said this' which ends with a 'err, ok ya well no lets not do it like that' and take away a day of my work. thanks.

Assume taking a day off is wrong and life is ALL ABOUT WORK. my boss has been coming to work sick as a horse since the last two days and apologized (to me) about not being at work on Monday. I was like hellno, u shoulda stayed home today and tomorrow as well. She seemed guilty for havign had 8 hours of sleep on sunday :-/

UNREALISTIC. no wait, RIDICULOUSLY UNREALISTIC time expectations. Apparently everything can get done in an hour or day. MAX.

No Hi hello how are you doing today. The minute you start talking to them, it better be business.

Like CHILL people. Work gets done and life is about having fun. and working too but fun basically. I am SO glad I decided against recruiting for consulting. while i could do with the extra bucks, im glad I have a life.

2011-06-27T22:42:00.004+05:30

I cant believe after 4 years of working and a year of being a student later, I still hate monday mornings. I genuinely loathe them. I wake up feeling cranky and sunday evenings are generally sulking. Yes good info to have in order to date me.

This weekend was great though - saturday was run errands day - I finally got my license plates for the new car (of course putting them on will happen only next week), got an oil change and the tires rotated for $40 which in India would cost 200Rs or so? like $4 gah. AND watched a movie - Bad teacher. the other half of the name of this movie is Bad teacher, Mediocre movie. It's like one of those Hindi film movies where the extremely obvious things happen, the good guy gets the girl and alls well that ends well. It was overall fun, I was in the mood for a light chick flick and being at the Alamo Drafthouse where you can order wine, beer or even cocktails and a full menu of food during the movie, was great.

Saturday night was girls night and we got wine, cheese, garlic bread, roast asparagus, potatoes, roast chicken and cheesecake and had a chat-athon! Since we were all from different cohorts and to ease the bitching process we pulled out the facebook (the BOOK, not the Site) for reference. It's strange though. out of the 3 married women that night, 2 are getting divorced. In fact, we were at Michelles house for dinner and her (ex) husband had just moved out the week before. One of my closest friends S is leaving her husband too. Both are under 35 and S has a beautiful 4 year old son who I just wan to run away with and call my own. My Indian conservative mentality makes me feel bad at the word 'divorce' but I'm happy for both having had the courage to make the decision.

I dont see any real reason for S's unhappiness - her husband (Was) nice, caring, a great father (ofcourse now he's a wounded lion and behaves it). She feels 'meh' about him now. I feel as though she's in the MBA program with a bunch of younger women, who're mostly single, hooking up with boys here and there and keeping their own time, and she feels weighed down. I've seen that shift in her from a devoted wife to someone who suddenly felt shackled by her marriage. Nothing changed in that equation except her.. I support her decision to move on 100% .. since she seems happier now that she's made up her mind. At the same time, I only hope it isnt a decision based on a transient phase... yes we're all young, fun, single, with no responsibilities and therefore we act that way - carefree and self focused. School is also a place where you can lose yourself, sink or swim. There are some who find themselves, and others who lose who they are. Either way, these 2 years are not represent of the rest of our lives.

This chaos, tumult and insane life is fun for these years but real life hits you when you get to work. The routine sets into place, mindspace too... Im worried S is just in a place where she wants to be 25 again (which AGAIN, i am not saying is wrong) but she's giving up her marriage to be it. I hope its the right decision for her since its a big sacrifice - and there's an adorable little kid involved.

Not known to keep my thoughts to myself I've had a conversation with her about this yielding no results as expected. I guess what worries me more is her relationship with another guy at this point. Another guy who has already told her this isnt going anywhere and things wont work. Another guy with whom she has no future, but is continuing to pursue. Another guy, while being married to her husband. I'll support her through whatever she needs me for, but there's a part of this I dont like, and I dont want to see her hurt.

Makes me wonder. I recently read a Shobhaa De article where she spoke about the right to lave a marriage because it got 'boring' - I agree with her, at the same time, how do you know you've tried your best? This is also one of my greatest fears.. getting bored of the monotony of the husband, same sexual partner and seeing these instances just cements it. I can only imagine how Indian parents would take to a marriage ending because 'it got boring'.

Either way -I'm all for the idea of individuals taking control of their lives - with happiness being the key driver. After all, everyone deserves it - but leave me to wonder. Without the societal pressure to work harder and do everything in your will to work on your marriage or life and following an individualistic approach, will there be a breakdown in the institution of 'togetherness'? Will 'Just because I dont feel like it anymore' be the new 'Irreconcilable differences'?

Work and other scary things

2011-06-25T02:40:00.002+05:30

Internships are stressful jobs. In 3 months or less one is expected to show off your best and come out with a full time offer, or a pre placement as they’re called in some places. They’re a source of judgement as not getting a full time could be considered a sign of a bad job. There are times though that the team doesn’t have the budget to support you, or you were not the best fit, but did a good job anyway. That doesnt matter. You dint get a full time.

When it comes to me, going by my job title, Global pricing strategy and planning, it’s an exciting, new role and something Ive never done before. And also something that makes me worry. I love data, and interpreting it (after 4 years of consumer insights) and would say im pretty good analytically as in, I can interpret data well and spot trends and make a story and link disjoint events. But I’m no genius at crunching numbers – at working on complex piece of valuations or formulae. I’m terrible at Finance, averaging a B- in the first semester. I’m even WORSE at accounting. (way worse) Which leads to me thinking – I hope I can manage to do a good enough job to get a full time out of this. While I’m not sure where when what I want to do and be, I like the company so far and am having a good experience. I am out of my comfort zone staring at millions of excel numbers, but at the same time excited to see sell in, sell out and supremely confidential numbers. I’ve had to suck it up and learn to love pivots (which are as awesome as people say they are) as well as troll through investor relations presentations and pick up market intelligence. Having said that, I am super tense and have no idea how this will pan out. Will my weak area be really obvious or will I be able to prove my worth as an overall employee?

I was telling an old colleague today whose seemed lost and distant since his last job shift how sometimes a place change can make a world of a difference. Sometimes when things are like this, and dont feel right for a long time - a change of scenery works, or starting afresh...I found my old self in moving 100,000 miles away from home. I found my carefree spirit, I found that ring in my laughter, I found that excitement to waking up everyday and doing new things and being surrounded by new places and faces. I found a reason to work hard and confidence that I had so much to work towards ... just by moving here.

So often, far far too many times we hear of others or even ourselves saying ‘I’m in a rut’ or ‘I feel as though Im stagnating’. The ONLY thing that can ever help you out is acceptance of the situation and a severe change in something – routines, job, home, country. Anything that gets you out of your comfort zone and makes you look at things anew.
When I moved to the US I had to learn how to do laundry, drive on the other side of the street, self check out grocery and a million other mundane things but which were fun, and exciting. I learnt to cook and discovered I’m a pretty good at it. If it hadn’t been for the courage to do this, I would’ve missed out.

Among other things

2011-06-22T00:36:00.005+05:30

There are times when you miss a man around the house. To summarize -

To life something heavy OR

To open a jar

Yesterday was one of those days. An attempt to make pasta was annoyingly sprinkled with a fistfight with the jar of olives and when that battle was won 20 mins later, another one ensued with the pasta sauce jar. Of course, at that time none of my neighbours were home so I was lef to fend for myself. Now my usual well worked out self wayyy back in the day wouldve scoffed at not being able to open a jar, but 10 pounds later its a different story.

My mom has picked up me not having sent her any new photos of me since a few months. "Beta, why are you not in any of these photos?" she asked - "oh, no reason, the scenery was so nice I dint want to take away from it" I said which is the same as saying I've put on weight and you will kill me if you knew. Now the plan is to lose it before my India trip in december and what they dont know cant hurt, right? :-/

While it took me some time and apprehension, living alone is kindof nice. I curled up last night under the comforter with my laptop and book with just the tablelamp on, working a little and reading. The last two Sunday evenings have seen a pattern fall into place with the time from 6 p.m onwards dedicated to cleaning the house, doing the dishes, ironing the clothes for the week, cooking 2-3 things for dinner for the week and such chores. I had a drink while doing these chores as well, felt strange. Call it good bringing up or some such, but even having moved away from home I havent abused this liberty ever since I moved to America. Not one drunk night, not one mindless regrettable act, no fling, (wait, this sentence is depressing me!) - I was a good girl even in Vegas. Heck, we fell asleep at 12 on a saturday night when we went since we all were out all day! All in all, Guess im just not the kind to lose my inhibitions and be a wildcat although id like to be a little bit of it ;)

It's also scary that everyone around me is in relationships and engaged or married. Will I be that girl whose old and unmarried and who has only married friends? Will I be that girl whose parents are desperately looking out for when all the 'good ones are gone'? Much as I want to marry on my own terms and for love and happiness, this scares me. After the last experience where I almost got married to my best friend of 4years but then didnt, I'm phobic. Im scared of the 'M' word when it comes to my relationships and im scared of not having control. I'll be scared stiff if my in laws dont like me cause they can make or break your relationship (and i WILL ATTEST to that) SPECIALLY if the guy isnt strong enough to stick up for you. I'm scared of making the wrong decision, of hurting my parents and putting them through what I did a few years back. I'm scared of losing this liberty, this ambition with my life aspirations and I'm scared of holding on too tight. I'm scared I wont know where the middle ground is... I'm scared ill fall out of love or get bored. Mindjob? Yes please.

Absentmindedness of the week

2011-06-21T03:47:00.002+05:30

Walked into a mens restroom at work, and told the guy who entered that he was in the ladies

Transferred my clothes from the washer to ANOTHER washer thinking it was a dryer starting a wash cycle, and then an hour later starting the WASH cycle AGAIN thinking the dryer wasnt working. Also, this was entered in the complaint book stating non compliance of dryer - and I ran 3 wash cycles before realizing it was A BLOODY washer.

At work - A colleague BOUGHT lunch because I thought the meeting we were headed to was brown bag. It was catered.

I cant deny it ANYMORE. I am absent minded as HELL.

A full circle

2011-06-17T23:39:00.002+05:30

Serendipity,
Intern Global Pricing Strategy and Planning CM Optimization

You know you’ve come a full circle when you reach this designation. It feel strange being an intern all over again, specially after havign workd for 4 years. Although I wonder what it must be like for a lot of my classmates with twice my work experience. Looking back at my first year of MBA and this internship and contrasting it with Indian education, I know we’ve got a long way to go.
First and foremost this concept of doing an MBA or any masters right after undergrad needs rethinking. I have not a single 22 year old in my class, the youngest being 26 years old with 3 years of work ex. Working brings so much perspective to ones thought process and orients your mind to thinking like senior management unlike the fresh faced almost kids graduating as MBA’s.
Being an intern here is serious business with all of us working on high impact projects – a little unnerving but also a great challenge, and you’re expected to build off from your work experience as well as the education youre getting in B school to be able to handle it. In short the MBA focuses on making you a manager, a leader and a businessman – not someone who can read textbooks and regurgitate information on a written test. In fact, most of my classes in the second half were not even written tests - they were case analyses, projects, presentations etc.
Which brings me to the second thing – testing. Indian MBA’s have to move away from the written test format as well. I had a few friends go to Bschool in Mumbai and saw them cram from textbooks the night before the exams much in the same fashion I studied for engineering – textbook rote. That takes away from application altogether.
Thing is, we all come to the US for higher education for many of the same reasons – its just a richer quality here. Which does make a case for brain drain. Its not just engineers and PHD students the US is luring away now, its also business professionals, future leaders. Funny thing is the US is under flak for giving jobs to so many Indians so ideally they wouldn’t want us here, whereas India would, but there arent enough opportunities anymore.

Its almost surreal how if I was back in India everythings changed with my circle of friends – we’re in the 27-28 age band now, and everyone back home is married/engaged/formally announced marriage. I was in for a HUGE shocker when I found out my best friend is pregnant after her marriage last year. It was GREAT news, but unexpected. She’s extremely excited about it, and so am I but it was strange nonetheless. Here I am being a student and my bestest friend, the closest thing to a sister is pregnant! Thing is, we’ve lived 5 mins from each others house since the last 20 years, gone to the same school, college, moved to the states together so her life is very synonymous with mine.. except the marriage of course. So when she called to tell me shes pregnant for the first ten mins of that phone conversation I dint believe her! I of course had to make up for that by sending her red velvet cake. I cant imagine her being a mommy – we’re such kids ourselves. I LOVE animated movies, rides, lollipops, am scared of scary movies, I LOVE Dave and Busters and Universal studios and disneyland and my idea of parenting is cuddling up to a baby. So is hers!

Speaking of friends – the other best friend from Mumbai finally had the time to write me an email last night. It gives me no explanation as to why she never had even 5 minutes to write back, or wish me, or reply to my calls, or facebook messages. She dint even reply to a thread I had posted on her facebook wall asking how she’s doing. She’s quitting her job next month and will be taking a break and I feel like she wrote to me because her time opened up, which hurt. I don’t think I will reply to this email, simply because I think she doesn’t deserve a reply from me. Guess ill see her when I go home in december. I feel bad, but enough of this being there for someone to walk on and then be there again when they need you.
In other news, I got a car! Im now a full fledged working girl living alone (temporarily) driving to work, cooking over the weekend and wait, I sound 45.

A careless whisper...

2011-06-13T23:55:00.001+05:30

It was the kind of moment dreams of made of. Those strange stomach turning, heartbeat hastening moments. The only cherry on the cake would’ve been that kiss in the rain…that would have made it too intoxicating to handle maybe. Make that For sure. The wild breeze, free flowing hair, that hand on her back. That feel of the form next to hers… that almost physical presence. That intense long for being held, and wanted. Its almost as though the distance had created this electrifying chemistry. And the wind rain and waves came together in perfect harmony to play their parts in the symphony which was building up to a grand finale.
It’s a strange feeling - of being inside a dream. An eerie sense of Déjà vu coupled with the tingle of the reality of the happening. It was actually happening, she was actually in the pouring rain, with wild unruly winds and the agitated waves. There were a few infinite seconds - when they were almost wrapped around each other shielding themselves from the pouring rain under an umbrella which wouldn’t stay still. The wind played havoc with her hair and wouldn’t let them be - that was the beauty of it - the fluidity of the moment, the constant shuffle, the tickle from being so close… yet so far. She was thinking of whipping that darn umbrella away, letting it be carried away with the thundering wind and rain, and press up closer to him… until they were face to face, neck to neck and goosebump to goosebump. That Elusive kiss….
The other time, stars came into play. Her Favorite thing. Stars! The open air, that romance in the wind and the tussle of her hair. Wildly they were flung about the curve of her face, round and round she went with her hair having a mind of its own, she having succumbed to it. And she turned, and faced him. That was mistake no 1. Mistake number 2 was the intense eye contact that shut out all else, and though it lasted for a fraction of a second it was, in fact the kind of eye contact that can overpower the strongest of minds. Mistake no 3. She kissed him. In her mind and through her eyes, she kissed him.
Theres something about this combination of the sea and wind and tussled hair that makes her want to feel somebody else next to her, that shes not by herself, that there’s a hand on her waist or a person in her shadow, or a shoulder beneath her head, Blame it on the movies?

The 1-2-3 of buying a car in America

2011-06-03T04:23:00.003+05:30

There are a few things in America that are very painful. Paying for medical emergencies, renting an apartment, breaking your leg and on the same lines - buying a car. A naive first timer can easily get duped into thinking they just bought the best deal ever and walk out with that all knowing smirk on their face, but little do they know.

As a first timer myself, my saving grace is a few friends who've lived here since a long time and who have taken it upon themselves to make sure no one makes an ass out of me. Here is a quick guide on how to approach buying a pre owned car, for any budget.

NEVER buy a salvage/rebuilt title. This is often the most important question you must ask the party you're buying the car from, and often the detail missing in advertisements, for obvious reasons. (In the United States, a salvage title is a form of vehicle title branding, which notes that the vehicle has been severely damaged and/or deemed a total loss by an insurance company that paid a claim on it) These are the cheapest kinds of cars, but the most dangerous to buy. At this point (2011) there are a lot from the Katrina wreckage.
ALWAYS check the Kelly Blue Book price: So when someone quotes a figure, you should know whether its a fair price. The KBB takes into account model, make, miles and condition and give you three prices - good condition, excellent and fair condition. So you should know that while buying a car, depending on the variables mentioned above, you know what to expect. It also gives you bargaining power, and the seller knows your not the average joe but a seasoned buyer who knows whats what.
Craigslist is where to start: and its overwhelming, and confusing and has a crapload of junk, but there are those occasional deals. It is imperative to scour and stalk and make calls and visits and narrow down the cars you want to bargain for. Private party cars tend to be cheaper but dealer cars are shinier - choose your poison.
If you think you find a great car and a good price and you think you're done, your NOT. the last thing to do is to get a lemonbuster to check out the car. Don't know what a lemonbuster is? Not a good sign if youre looking out seriously. A lemon is a car which is neither good nor bad and can swing either way. A lemon buster will look under the hood and let you know about big ticket expenses that you may incur. Refer to autopi or other mechanics in your area.

A car passing ALL the filters above is finally waiting to be bought! I'm still looking for my baby.

The Wine phase

2011-06-02T09:41:00.002+05:30

Has now begun. Ive graduated into the 'wine lover' zone. Although Im a novice - sticking to the sweeter Reisling and Merlot varieties. Although this move doesnt seem of significant importance by itself, it signals a life changing event.. a move into maturity if I can say so. Let me put it this way - wine parties used to be those boring old events when people are fussing over a bit of fungii and which decayed bit of cheese would break down more with a slight sip of the wine or which combination of a half cracker, mini berry and wine would set off a symphony on your tongue. (I was clearly very amused.) I remember being at a fairly expensive wine bar in the first few months of me reaching the US and texting a friend about an exit strategy from under the table. Seriously, my patience for moth eaten smelly cheese and elaborating on the fermentation of a grape into an aromatic teasing drink was very very low. The people at the party were all married, me and my friend being the only single (and bored) ones there. I distinctly remember the duration of my sigh (of relief) when we actually left, i think it spanned a few minutes.

Therefore this graduation into liking wine, is significant not to say the least. Its an acceptance of the changing conversation and an evolution of taste. A glorious move towards turning older (dammit) You know, there was a time not so long ago that everyone around me was getting married. Now everyone and their neighbors are making babies! Seriously, there are close to 6 pregnant women in my life right now. I'ma have a hard time catching up!

I'm now living alone - its funny that its 27 years of my life later. Better late than never - I'm alone for the 2 months of my summer internship before I move into a new house with a new roommate. Its not so bad at all, I have me a bottle of wine while eating dinner and this walking about the house naked thing is not overrated at all. I celebrated the move in with a luxurious bubble bath and then dinner. After my experience with my previous house where the ac dint work in the summer and the heat dint in the winter and sharing a bathroom with one girl, I deserve royal treatment and thats what I'm gonna get me.

The one year gyaan

2011-05-28T03:29:00.006+05:30

It's been almost a year since I moved here - and its been a whirlwind of new experiences, people, emotions, chaos and what not. As I look back at the year that went past - here are the few things I learnt the hard way or otherwise...

I do not like Accounting.
Accounting does not like me.
I LEARNT HOW TO COOK!
I failed the damn driving test. stupid rules. This DOES NOT mean I dont know how to drive, it just means Im generating more revenue for cash strapped US. (gah)
I am GREAT cook (if I may say so myself?) Therefore my lifelong wish of having my kids tell other kids that their mom cooks the best food is not so distant. (of course marriage and kids come first, but what the hell, i cleared the important hurdle, right?)
People are not as nice as they seem. SPECIALLY in another country. ESPECIALLY in an MBA. blame it on "the curve" which Indians take WAYY too seriously when they move into an uber competitive environment.
Life in a small college town in America is not as 'simple' as it is cut out to be. Gunmen are real. I remember being very freaked out, and very shaken up...
ALWAYS ALWAYS do groceries separately with a roommate. Never live with someone you cannot 'figure out' the first time you meet. Never be 'too nice' or 'too accomodating' unless the other person reciprocates. NEVER do the dishes and chores more than thrice in a row unless the roommate does her bit.
The best advice I came to America with was given to me by my ex boss - he said 'Never be surprised by people' He was right. What with seeing married friends hook up, to friends acting ridiculously competitive, the roommate acting 6 years old to acting like a complete bitch, I'm not surprised.
When in Rome, do as the Romans - I took to beer after years of being a mojito girl.. 'Brief and Meets', 'Meet and Greets', 'Think and Drinks' all fancy words for 'networking' basically entail beer and or wine and an empty class is rude. Lowering inhibitions is KEY. Growing up in India means we're already equipped with some pre conceived notions, lines, limits which is GREAT, but stands in the way of a lot of fun. The most fun thing I did this year was a scavenger hunt the contents of which I cannot describe here since this is a PG13 blog. Point being, I would've never, ever, ever done this before- but I did, and its the best story Ill never tell my grandkids.
I learnt that even as 27 year olds, some people still behave 12. no 8. no wait, 6.
I learnt how important those little things mom and dad teach you are tools they equip you in facing life - and how the difference in those little things taught to different people makes them petty, or selfish, or angry, or nice... thanks ma and pa for teaching me to always always being the bigger person.
Drifting away from some friends back home is not only inevitable, its ok. I drifted away from one of my best friends back home just because she just had NO time for me this past year, and is so caught up in her own life that she hasnt replied to my emails, fb messages and phone calls! While that hurt initially, now - its ok. I've accepted it, and moved on too...
In America, a sandwich is a burger.
If you ask an American for a 'tissue' or where the 'dustbin is' or 'loo' is - they WONT KNOW. its napkin, trashcan, or restroom. :-/
Americans think India is a big village where we learnt to speak English after we move to the US. (14 people asked me if I knew English before I moved here, by the end of which I actually said sarcastically that I took a crash course for 3 months before moving. funny thing is, i think some of them believe me)
The ground floor here is actually the first and the first is the second and so on. Which makes NO sense. Ground level = Ground floor, right?
The 'on' state for switches in India is the 'off' state here.
Other than a few cities like New York / SF u NEED a car in the US, else your just immobile.
My Metric system has gone for a toss. WTF is a gallon (I do litres, please), Miles (Kms?), pounds.. really why does America INSIST on having things the other way round from the rest of the world.
One year later, I still look the wrong way while crossing the street! Seriously whats with the left hand side driving when the world is on right?!!
It is acceptable to go for dinner at 6 (what?)

Need to go look at cars now, Internship starts June 6 and need to nail one down before that!

Day # 3 NYC!

2011-05-19T08:57:00.006+05:30

Much as I love the rain, and it has been well documented on this blog, and MUCH as I miss it in Texas, this was one trip I could have done without. It rained all day, I was soaked to the bone, which basically meant i bought a whole new set, right down to innerwear just to stop being cranky. I missed the ferry to Ellis island, couldnt see the statue of liberty OR go to the observation deck atop rockefeller center. GAH.

I did go to the WTC memorial site - a collection of stories and memorabilia from 9/11... I am not American, neither do I belong here, but I was overcome with emotion as I saw little postcards and notes and photos of moms and dads pasted by little kids on the memorial wall - the wall of hugs, the flag of honor with everyones names, the wall of photos... even after having witnessed 26/11 so up close, I cannot begin to imagine what this city went through..my heart goes out to victims, survivors and the affected...

Thats the beauty of a city - of being able to pick up the pieces, rebuild, renew and move strong, undaunted by foolish people who think they're following the will of god... a city that can come to grips with a tragedy like this, mourn together, move on, and never, ever forget. My Mumbai too, is a strong survivor, resilient against repeated attacks - vulnerable, but undaunted. NYC - always on the move, pulsating with throngs of people from all over the world, with a life underground as electric and vibrant as that above is a fantastic city with a soul, I love it!

The streets of New York

2011-05-16T09:44:00.003+05:30

I'm here just a day, and in LOVE. I realize coming from a city like Mumbai where everything's always on the move, with the hustle bustle of people and life, a slow smaller city could at max, entertain me for a while. So compared to where im studying, which is a city i LOVE, but is a smaller student town nonetheless, NY is like home.

I did a lot of the usual touristy things today, walked 45 hours (just kidding, i mean 10) took a subway, rode a tram, went to central park. A familiar feeling overcame me when I was at the subway station and in the train - when I saw an old impoverished, beggar in the train everyone was staying away from. America, and the city I live in had sheltered me from this feeling which plagued me in Mumbai - the feeling of helplessness, of wanting to reach out and help someone, and not being in a position to. Texas is a rich state and the homeless probably lead a better life at this point than I do, as a student. However, NY is a reality check, the same ol cutthroat do or die, survival of the fittest, home to the richest and streets to the poorest - just like Mumbai. when I saw this man, knowing I had not the money or the resources to do ANYTHING and my dollar is meaningless - it was a ride back to the familiar feeling in Mumbai when the streets riddled with people who could use my help, and yet I couldnt. I remember spending a substantial part of my pay on beggars, homeless and other such - i even remember my ex boyfriend and I having numerous arguments over my methods of helping and how upset I would get. but. this. feeling. wont. go. i guess in a lot of ways ill have to learn to live with it.

there are so many things similar between these two cities. both throb with the humdrum of daily lives, of rush and haste and no time to waste, both have a life and soul which transcends the concrete jungle they are engulfed in, both make you fall in love with the lights and sounds and hopes and dreams they allow you to dream. Little wonder it is then, that people try SO HARD to make a life happen in these cities- they allow people to dream that dream of a hope ..

friends who moved here from smaller towns in India to big schools like NYU, Columbia, saddled with the expenses of staying here lived 6 people to a 2 bed for 2 years to get a fantastic job to pay it off in a year. surprised?

New york isnt as plastic and sterilized as some other cities in America, it isn't squeaky clean, it isnt free of hand carts and pedestrian painters and homeless people who sing and play for you in the subway, of bands too poor to have an album but talented enough to make you tear up as you wait for your train (true story) - but new york feels real.

I realize its been AGES since ive been on my beloved blog when my fingers flew a the speed of lightning as I wrote this, no time for even spellchecks. I missed this! anyone who i used to read / read me still around? holla! better yet, anyone in NYC?!

Tying it up

2010-12-29T13:06:00.003+05:30

Its that time of year - the one when we reflect on the year gone by, ruminate the accomplishments and dissappointments, weigh them all in to see where the scales tip to decide the success of the year.

I'm doing the same. albeit sitting in another country. in an apartment in a city apart from the one I moved to, the third Im visiting this christmas. A change I could'nt forsee myself last new years even stretching my imagination. Last year this time I was contemplating a job change to be that 'stimulant' in my life. In retrospect, that would've been a mild ripple in the wave of change Im engulfed in.

So where are the scales tipped? This has been a good good year. I'm glad I had the courage to get out of the shell I was living in, protected by friends and family pigeonholed in the same routine. This was as out there as I could throw myself, and Im lucky to have had parents support me through my decision. I had aunts and uncles who wanted me to 'get engaged' before I left because 'it was the right thing to do' (long distance for two years with a stranger, no thanks)

In my five months here Ive travelled to 3 cities Ive always wanted to visit already - Seattle, SF and Im in Los Angeles for the new years! San Diego is a road trip that could happen 2 days from now (fingers crossed). Of course this is austerity at its best - tickets booked 2 months in advance at cheapest days and dates staying with distant friends and relatives and who not.

I've also relearnt to be a student - broke, hungry, sleepy, frustrated, stingy, - the whole enchillada. I've re-learnt to be in situations where I'm not familiar with the dicsussion and not feeling out of place - we get complacent with our knowledge and positions at our jobs, dont we?Being a student at 26 with 4 years of work ex and oodles of money to be spent on 'necessities' such as bags and shoes and other extravangazas and now adjusting to one bag and 3 pairs of regular footwear is just all kinds of wrong'

I've learnt to sit in one place with a book and pore over it for hours and not turn on facebook. (ok, this one took some time!) I learnt to cook - this was a big one. From a make only chai person I now make dals, rice, chicken biryani, peas potato, cabbage, ladyfinger u name it, I cook it! big big accomplishment for me! I documented each little one by sending during and after pictures of everything I cooked to my mom - overdoing it? yes! but thats the Indian way no? of excesses and exaggerations? :)

All in all, a year of a lot of learning, re-learning, letting go, holding on. 2011, here I am!

Perceptions

2010-11-02T08:32:00.006+05:30

Its a desi thing. Coming to terms with being a whole new city with different morals and attitudes and adjusting can be difficult; I understand. Trying to adjust, finding a comfortable place with your differing accent, dressing maybe and overall value system, also unnerving I guess.

What I dont understand is being in the age bracket of 25-30 years, in business school carrying age old complexities of an inferiority/superiority complex, judgement issues, masks and an overall intricate web of overlapping masks and alternating behaviour. Shouldnt we all be in that age where we've all proven ourselves, academically and professionally in some ways or the other, to be well settled in our accomplishments and confident in our skin? I have reached a climax of feeling frustrated with the 'desi' junta in my batch. FOB's if you may (fresh off the boat). All of them seem saddled with overwhelming complexes in some form or the other manifesting in various forms such as judging others, a certain amount of concealing of facts, undermining or overstating oneself and most of all - jealousy.

I'm thankful for my upbringing when faced in a situation like this - I compete with myself. I'm well aware that I dont want an IB jor or corp finance like most of the others so competing with them is pointless innit? Talking about completion of homework or constant status of studying in a comparative scale is something I neither have the time nor the inclination to do. Im comfortable enough to have worn a churidar kurta to school on a few occasions when there was no special day (and gotten a lot of compliments!!), comfortable enough not to roll my r's since I dont anyway, admit that this was my first Halloween and ask questions about traditions and customs here in the US without pretending Ive lived here forever Cause I HAVENT!

Im finally at a crescendo of wanting to not associate with such narrow minded intensely competitive set of people, Im here to make friends, have fun, study, work and open my mind to new perspectives NOT to carry with me all the petty ridiculousness that I left behind when I was 20. No Offence to anyone, but Im just too busy making the most of every day of these two years of my life that I JUST.DONT.HAVE.TIME.FOR.BULLSHIT.

Being pretty good at ignoring people I dont like being one of the things I do well, I succeed decently in this effort, but then there are days, like today. Things so miniscule that my blog would be mad at me if I ranted about them. This mood certainly wasnt good at the botched attempt at Palak daal, and aaloo sabji. Luckily I have an Oreo cookie chocolate chip whipped cream frosted cupcake to cheer me up. AH. just the thing!

Pimpin up the studyin

2010-10-25T03:51:00.007+05:30

Of course, there HAS to be motivation involved, right?

The place where I sat!

Yes, I was there 7 hours. And yes, with motivation LIKE THAT, I did get 6.5 hours of work done. err, dont ask me which (or how many) of those I ate (and or packed).

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Meeny

2010-10-22T05:59:00.004+05:30

Things that mean so much..

Today I went to the 'Indian store' for a few of my groceries which I wont get at the regular Walmart, HEB etc. Things which are an indispensable part of of my life and without which I am somehow, hopelessly incomplete. Society tea the good ol cutting chai variety as opposed to the dip dip sorry excuse for tea this coutry has. Basmati rice, Daal and Rajma! and yes, I have somehow begun cooking. The cycle of domestication is now complete. This can also go on my 'smart intelligent can cook girl' resume.

As I walked down the aisle surrounded by brands and colours and names I knew I felt oddly happy. Like I stole a few moments in a kirana shop back home. Parachute oil, Amul butter, Frooti, Rasna!! They looked like glistening little items of gold. I treated myself to buying vermicelli (sewiyan) which I know (think) I will make kheer out of. It was strange, an experience of strange longing in the midst of a decrepit little store that sold groceries, of all things. I walked past the biscuits aisle and found Britannia rusk break, a routine with Ma and I and chai each day of the three month vacation I had before leaving India.

I did not anticipate the glee I felt in picking up that packet of rusk biscuits and going back to a memory of having chai with my mom - one I wouldnt think twice about ordinarily cause it was such a mundane thing to do. As I tried explained my ecstatic initial reaction to my puzzled friend, my emotions changed from happiness to a slow realization of the fact that a) Im not buying it so I can go home and have chai with mom and b) its gonna be a full year and a half before I see her again ...and I teared up. It was a hollow feeling of really really wishing I could just do that one thing I did every single day, just once more.

It got funny after that - obviously a boy thinks the best way to get a girl to stop crying is to ask silly questions and distract her and hence post a few 'what is amchul powder made of' and other junk, Nikhil decides its time we head out. Only, when Im paying and stack the rusk on the counter it triggers off another 'Im not done feeling upset over this' reaction from me and a few tears make another appearance, to which poor frazzled Nikhil literally asks me if I want him to HIDE the packets! That obviously was more than enough to get me to crack up.

Its hard, living away. Im ordinarily so busy I dont have time to miss anyone much, heck I barely have time to sleep. But its when these little things remind you of where you came from and who you belong to that its time you take some time off and just dwell. I'm so absorbed in my new life all of a sudden, I dint have a weaning off period between home and now. Its perfectly ok to feel upset, and Im gonna spend some time just feeling what im feeling. Im sortof enjoying missing home and family and friends and Mumbai and reliving my favorite moments in this status.

Seattle!

2010-10-17T03:15:00.003+05:30

I feel as though I dont write as much as I should. Thank MBA for giving me barely enough time to shower each day and thats probably all the time I get to myself each day! So where am I writing from now? A coffee shop at Seattle, doing the American thing - sitting with my laptop and a Java chocolate chip frappacino catching up with emails and blogging. Although I must do my readings for class. :-/

Ive been trying to get myself to leave this coffee shop since the past hour, but the music, just wont let me. Its a beautiful medley of the blues and some french music and its got me hooked. A window seat and perfectness. Its been 3 months since Ive been alone, literally. and thats cos im in a new city where I knew only the 30 people I came with most of whom have left now. MBA Means im perpetually with people, my study group my roomate or other people I need to be around;. This is the first time Im by myself in a place where I can just marinate in my own thoughts and 'do my thing'

The last three days have been a whirlwind of meeting 6 companies, none of which hire me cos im an International student but this experience was intense. It was worth my time and money just coming down here for so many reasons - I got to know some of my classmates better. I was sharing a room with 3 other girls - all americans and they were lovely. There's a reason id tell new students heading abroad not to just hang with Desis, cause thats the easy thing to do, but getting to know different people is just such a stimulating experience! Our hotel is downtown so It was phenomenal - walking out the street meant looking at seriously stylish people wearing their winter wardrobe and an occasional woman in something so tiny that it makes me wonder how shes doing it! (perspective - I have on 5 layers of clothes right now). Visiting companies gave me a good feel of the American work culture and a sense of what it would be like working here. I got the impression that it isnt as structured as it is back home - team of 3-4 working for a boss who has a boss who has a boss and hence your ass is always covered cause of the hierarchy - here its more like you are your own boss and u dont hve a team to necessarily get things done but you have to figure out a way to do them anyway. Im not sure if ill love it or hate it, but ill give it a try!

I am so loving this music in this coffee shop, Its been over an hour and a half and I dint even realize it. Im gonna walk over to the Space needle now, pictures later!

I'm being positive!

2010-10-04T21:25:00.003+05:30

BUT, as it turns out, Optimism can be futile in SOME cases!

Life keeps getting more and more surreal

2010-09-29T00:46:00.006+05:30

First I think I almost lose my dad in the 26/11 attacks. Terrorists enter my city, through a place I can LITERALLY see from my balcony. and now, I move countries, to a whole new life - to a new happy fun place - and then this?

I woke up to emails from classmates saying one of them had seen a masked gunman on campus so we shouldnt leave home, whoever hasnt left for school already. At first I thought it was a joke - This cant be happening right? RIGHT?

That was followed by some classmates calling and sms'ing to check where I was and to ask me to stay indoors - thats when I realized it isnt. I ran into my roomates room to check where she was and she'd left for school already. In complete panic I called to ask where she was and she was RIGHT ON THE STREET where this Gunman was. She along with 2 other desis who didnt take this seriously and wanted to find out for themselves how a random gunman can wreck havoc I guess. I fail to understand what can be so important that one would put themselves in harms way - I'd have missed an interview appointment wiith the ONLY job available to me in this country if I had to. Im sorry, my life means wayy too much to me to put in the hands of a maniac on the loose. Armed that too. Funny thing is, the odds of me being in the exact SAME spot as this gunman at 9 am in the morning were HIGHER than me being home, asleep. I was stdying late last night and hence had randomly decided to sleep in. Thank god for strange coincidences.

The good news is - (yes, there is some) that the only person injured was the gunman himself - dead rather. The school was quick to respond with emails, sms's, directions cancelling classe etc, a quicker response time with information dissemination than back home in India during 26/11. This guy was a former UT student - being here two months I feel like I love my school so much. Its absorbed me in its culture, its spirit of comraderie and enthusiasm, its working as hard as I am to make my 2 years here the best two years of my life. Why then, would someone whose been here want to destroy the beauty of the campus with voilence on it? Why would one want to exhibit one's own shortcoming's and crazed demented state of mind to afflict on others? If he had to kill himself, why not in the confines of his own house? WHY at my school, at my library?

I feel violated. I watched my school - the place this man was, is literally 5 steps from my Building - and I see it crawling with menacing police officers with guns and yellow tape and it feels violated. I feel like there's no sanctitity to the places I call home and are a part of my life. Like its in anyones hands to trespass these places and spill blood and gore all over it and ruin its innocence. I do not like this state of being, and this state of vulnerability. And there's nothing. Not one thing I can do about it.

The Global Business OMFG!

2010-09-17T01:28:00.003+05:30

In other words, a case study challenge I inflicted on myself (sincce who needs a free weekend anyway right?). Its a 4 team member all nighter case study challenge in which we will be given the cases to analyze at 9 p.m tonight , to submit a complete analyses and presentation by 8 a.m. tomorrow. It seemed like a great idea initially. Now I wish I had thursday night to dedicate to nothingness. Or the think and drink.

I'm excited about this though. It'll be fun to see how we're gonna handle each others moods post 3 am tonight. To combat team inertia and last minute panic, we have a communication coach scheduled to come over to wherever we will be by 2.45 a.m (a semi-median of the night). He offered to come back by 5 am and check on us so we might schedule another one. Thats one thing I love about this school. No matter how hard your working, there are people working harder, to make this experience count for us. There are people sending emails post midnight and available round the clock for ANY requirement that may arise. These communication coaches for e.g. - They opened their time slots from last evening till tomorrow morning 8a.m. thats more than 36 hours to make available for us to pick random times like 2.45 am.

Anyway, in preparation for tonight I skipped classes took a LO-ONG nap. We're also equippped with our buddies for the night - red bulls, starbucks double dose espressos, food fruits, vitamins etc. Now to time those babies right. Too soon a red bull and well be dozing off by 5a.m - too late and we'll be duracell bunnies during the presentation. I think Ima go research the statistical curve for the efficiency of a red bull and work out the logistics of taking one :-/ wish me luck!

Waiitt for me!

2010-09-14T09:35:00.004+05:30

The life of an MBA in a foreign country in a top ranked school is only any one of the following adjectives - sleep deprived, overworked, mad-ass fun, crazyfucking hectic and or stressful. As I eat me some cereal for dinner and granola bars for lunch at times, I realize what a crazy crazy ride Im on. And how im getting killed with the workload, deadline pressure and basic survival, and yet I'm hoping these two years take their time getting by.

I walk into my room, look at the furniture I bought and assembled (well a little help with that! whats the point of having boys as neighbours if they cant lend a hand right?), at how bare the house was when I moved in and how I cook and clean now as though im playing house. I remember how clueless I was when I first got here, barely two months ago (and still am in a lot of regards) but how this feels like home now. My classmates and study group are the most diverse lot of people Ive ever EVER had the pleasure of being around - the ONLY thing they all have in common is BEING RIDICULOUSLY smart. I need some dumber people to bring down the median of the grade distribution please! The people are awesomely nice, most wonder how I know such good English, and I find it hard to explain how I lived the life of a Mumbai girl which in hindsight I think is quite 'Americanised' to say. It's easier to blend in for me this way - I feel like I took to everything (except the studying) very well and in time.

I only complain about my time management skills right now. I have estimated, using intense mathematical and statistical tools that in order to complete everything on my plate on time, not miss a submission and or a planned event, my productivity has to be 'any 3 errands per minute'. This of course is in simplified terms for the blogverse. I missed the Indian Bhangra night on friday night as a result of my inability to assign time well, and boy what a miss it was. ONLY a million people went, all my friends came back home drunk out of their minds with a whole lot of gossip packed into that one night. Correlation between number of people drunk/quantity of drunkeness and hook ups that night? VERY HIGH. Being a bystander is fun. But now, after what Ive gone through just making it to today, I need to be very wasted sometime this week to get accounting out of my mind. In other words, this is get serendipity drunk week, and every one's invited. and expected to support :D Did i mention the official 'Think and drinks' we have each Thursday night (yes, I have a 3 day weekend) which are organised by SCHOOL? School is very supportive of our extra curricular activities, for sure. I always knew I selected it right :D

Two selves dwell within our beast

2010-09-11T07:25:00.004+05:30

--- From Goethe's Faust.
I was studying Microeconomics since a while now. It is therefore possible that the forthcoming analogies could be a derivative of the words I've read and the correlation with events surrounding my life consequently.

Today was a day of scattered thoughts, of insistent surprises, of periodic reminders of how acting in one's best interests is actually the best way - the ONLY way to really live life. Living with parents and being surrounded by people who love you and will willingly adjust to your whims and fancies and be your comfortable fall back armchairs makes a person soft. I am soft. I am also an idiot. I trust easy and love easy and believe in the general goodwill of life. While I love spending time by myself (it is essential to reflect on oneself intrinsically as much as externally) the very idea of individualism gives me a sense of overwhelming claustrophobia. I love being surrounded by people, by open spaces, by atmospheres of symbiotic existence. I love being cared for and caring, being loved and loving, giving of myself and receiving of another - I just cannot imagine an existence contained within myself.

Thus when I live with someone who cannot see a life beyond herself, who doesn't feel the need to be considerate or even slightly caring to someone shes living with, I just do.not.associate. Friends kiddingly refer to my mother henly tendencies as funny sometimes but then again, I just disclaimered y'all right? I cannot imagine thinking of and for myself in everything I do.

On the other hand, I was shocked at the turn of events this morning when a friend I was counting on for something of monumental importance gave way at the very last minute. I was blindsided by his response that he dint do what he had promised me he would - this very nearly was a very expensive mistake for me, one that I could avert but only after time and energy spent that could have been easily avoided. He was aware of the importance of this extremely tiny favour he was doing for me - one that I was obligated to ask for since he had access to certain facilities I did not, at the time. Still, he ended up meeting me at the function wherein I needed these documents and informs me that he dint get mine! I was in a fix. It took all of my energy not to panic and lose control of the situation at that very instant and figure out what best to do.

It worked out in the end, but it was a learning experience for me. I forgot that I'm in an atmosphere of academic competition, survival of the fittest. Even if I was inherently aware of the underlying competition, I always thought that dirty games and being underhanded took away more of a persons energy than added to his advantage.ill never manage the stress of being petty and shrewd. smarter? yes, I have to get. a better judge of character? hellyeah. its now or never!

Moving countries has a lot more to teach me than I thought and obviously 26 years of being a grown up doesnt mean I know the ropes.

The one where Serendipity is getting killed.

2010-09-06T10:14:00.002+05:30

It seems like I got here a month ago and school started just 3 weeks ago and midterms! MIDTERMS! Those exam like things in which you're expected to study and know your shite. Of course, I had to take it easy. I had to party every weekend, hang out, waste time making a million friends dig myself into a hole, and then, panic.

It's difficult being in an envoirnment as challenging as this. Every aspect of your being is put to test - emotional tenacity, physical endurance to 12 hour days with assignments coursework networking events, while eating out each day. This is my first major exam away from home - come to think of it, this is my first ANYTHING away from home. I know realze the calming influence of having mom hovreing around somewhere in the house, the chai that would magically appear periodically on my desk every once in a while, the food that would be healthy and oil free and to my liking right before my exams. In short, it was your average Indian parents doting on child syndrome.

Its a true test of my character fortitude if I can make it through this semester, unscathed by which I mean none of the follwing should happen to me - 1) Put on 1500 kilos 2) Lose 1500 kilos (or in hindsight thats not such a bad idea) 3) get a failing grade in any of these exams 4) lose all my hair in stress. Real peach of a mood right now right? Im running away from finance right now. Which is to say Ill blog, surf, walk, make chai, bathe and text message everybody in all parts of the US i can text (for free) until I have no choice BUT to open this godforsaken book.

Of course I also have the normally distributed grade curve working against me - my class is full of CPA's and Finance guys with an average of 6 years of work experience and 29 years of age, skewing the mean of the grades towards obscene levels. My pittance of 4 years experience and 26 year old mindset is just wondering what exactly Im contributing to this envoirnment except sarcastic facebook updates about how sad my fiannce and accounts situation is right now. Im counting on people from the liberal arts background (are there any in this class?!) to be equally (or more) flummoxed by these subjects else im'a be the tailender of this class. oh well.

Im hoping I read this blog post in a while (prefereably wednesday after the exams) and find it funny. I hope that isnt expecting too much :-/

Serendipity Reloaded v2.1

2010-08-30T04:37:00.004+05:30

Wow. Fighting blogggers block sure is tough. Especially when in the last two months of not blogging, said blogger moves countries, shifts life stages and starts getting her butt busted in an academic envoirnment she's trying to keep pace with.

How do i even qualify what the past two months have been. The run up to moving here - halfway across the world away from my comfort zone was as suspected an emotional roller coaster with apiness and excitement playing ball with sadness and anxiety about what lies beyond and what I left behind. I miss home - I miss my friends. I miss having people around me who know EXACTLY what I mean, and who'll auto complete my sentences. I miss Mom and her hugs and her bugging me to use sunscreen. I miss Mumbai and the sound of the sea - the beautiful hum drum of the waves. At the same time, I love the space here, the wonderful refreshing air not reeking of pollutants. I love the dignity of the place and people who will gracefully allow a pedestrian to pass with a smile, the cashiers who will tell you to have a great day with an infectious smile. How the switches go the other way around and the cars are on the opposite ends of the street. How I still look the wrong way and still get my dimes and cents wrong. How I hate having to wait a week to do laundry and even more when that draws into two. I love how I have another shot at being mysef again - the mellowed me just wasnt quite right. How I'm like a kid in a candy shop marvelling at these new things Im seeing and doing.

I hate how I have a new life and I love it too. A dichotomous reaction to the space and time I am now ensconed in. A crossroad where I can make it or break it.
I am excited about what lies ahead- This past month settling in is a good indication of what I can expect in the future. At the same time I left a lot behind - there's a part of my heart with someone I cant get back. And I think I have a part of his. Where we'll go and what we'll be, I dont know.
Life is funny. It'll throw a pile of emotions for you to deal with at the same time - who needs an MBA when you've got god pulling at the strings of your life?! This is time management, emtions management and priority setting at the very best application Ill ever find.

Today is one of those days - when Im suddenly feeling 50,000 miles away from home. Its a strange feeling, not being able to call HOME because of logistic issues!! Hello, I want my mommie please? yeah Iknow, im an improved version and all that but I dont profess to being able to do without my mom. :-/ Bittersweet. solitary. strange. Back for more. Im not all about the hard stuff :)

The Compartmentalization of Desire

2010-07-10T22:42:00.006+05:30

A lot of recent events have forced me to think about why we, as humans are sometimes the greatest barrier to our happiness. How we, ourselves hold the key to our own happiness, how we are the architects of each day of our life and the driver of each path we take. In our right state of mind, we are all enabled, sensible and thought out individuals well endowed with the capacity of taking decisions that should be taken. Why, then, given this advantage are we often our own biggest criminals?

I look around myself and see people I care for doing themselves grave injustice in their own decisions, and other than the standard 'pep' talk I can do nothing. After all, you can take the horse to the water, you cant make him drink. I see friends making compromises and sacrifices to keep transient relationships and fleeting feelings intact. While I understand its hard to let go - after all relationships come with a lot of desirable qualities - security, comfort, love etc. What I do not understand is why anyone would hold on to something simply because they're afraid to let go. Its about the 'What will I do without..' question that is plague. I say, why cant you ask yourself 'What am I doing with'?

Desire can take on morbid forms sometimes - its important to know when the line is breached. I graduated from being a foolish naive young girl into a woman who believes that 'YOU' have to be the most important person in your life. If YOU dont respect yourself, NO ONE will! Putting one's foot down in light of maintaining self respect or sanity are not only acceptable, they are MUST. DO. IT. NOW.

The transience of infinity

2010-05-24T13:27:00.006+05:30

Its only once we realize the finite nature of things around us, do we really value them. Name the top three things that come to your mind - time, love, life? Have we all not, at one point or another thought of something as strange as what we'd do if we had 24 hours to live? Heck, I had to write a 300 word essay for my school applications recently! What we'd say to a loved one if he had 24 hours to live? How we'd spend the last week at home before leaving the country? What we'd say if it were the last conversation we were having?

Infinity, is actually, a misnomer. Come to think of it, everything in life can be allocated ephemeral pockets of circumstantial time slots and vacant spaces in our hearts. Do you still love the person you said you'd love forever? Most likely, not. We love circumstantially and conditionally, contrary to what Bryan Adams might say. A sequence of events led us to feel what we did at that point for another person who at that time fulfilled some latent need--wanting to be loved, to feel secure, to be a couple, to count on, it varies. Which brings me to the point - infinity is actually transient. fleeting. brief. momentary.

We live in a world of paradoxes. Where change is imperative and imminent, yet faced with intense opposition. We'd stagnate without it, yet we battle any change with formidable strength.

Where love is not 'forever' but 'until you suit me'. A world moving at whirlwind speed with more efficiency than ever before, yet where's the time?

Today as I count down to a new life, in a new country, I feel a heightened perception of emotions of all kinds stewing through me. Home cooked food, Mom's hug, friends phone calls, family - suddenly I'm treating these things with enormous depth. The other day I was driving past Marine drive and I remembered all the millions of times Ive driven past hurriedly to get home, but that day, I took in each curve in the road, each contour of this beautiful coastline, absorbing the energy of lovers, joggers and urchins just infusing life into this place. I pulled down the windows and let the salty sea spray ruin my hair for once without a grumble. I ate plain rice and dal without a squeak of opposition as I know there's going to be a day, not too soon when I might be craving this - and a status on a social networking site is all Ill have to contend with.

It's not just the impending move to another country - its the repercussions thereafter too. This could possibly be the last time I live in my parents home as me. This new life and move could have its extensions in marriage, who's to say? The other day someone asked me what my plans are, and whether ill marry and settle there, or work? I simply smiled and gave my now templated answer - 'I don't have a plan, I'll deal with whatever comes my way'.

Cause hell knows, when has life gone according to plan anyway?

I'm closer to where I started..

2010-04-14T18:36:00.008+05:30

Now playing - Hanging by a moment (Lifehouse)

It's finally over and done with. The last day at work, for the next two years. After the past 4 years 1 month and 15 days of working in 2 companies, I finally said goodbye to my office on thursday, 15th April. I henceforth rewind the clock backwards into 2 years of studenthood, in another city, on another continent and a whole new world.

It was bittersweet - the last day at work. We underestimate how much people you spend at least 8 hours a day, 5 days a week begin to mean to us. On some heavy work months I spent more time with colleagues than even family! I left packing my desk and all its collectibles until the very last day - I couldnt imagine sitting there with a bald, empty desk even for a day. Its strange that the only things I had started off with were a frame of Ganpati and a picture frame of my Mom and I. Everything else on my desk accumulated over 3 years - farewell gifts, momentos, travel gifts, thank you gifts, secret santa gifts - you name it. Needless to say my desk was one more article away from being rented out by Hallmark.

It was those little things Ill remember most - packing away tiny gifts and remembering what they were for, getting that last signature on my full and final and submitting my swipe card - that loss of belonging, deleting all signs of my person on the computer - pictures, links, changing my screensaver. As I mailed myself all my bookmarked links - blogs of people I checked each day, I realized how attached I was to the well being and the updates of a few bloggers, strangers I'd bumped into, but who occupy a few minutes of my life each and every day. Now that was a realization.

I'm melancholic about having left - I had a great experience, with super bosses and a fantastic team, very fun peers and fantastic opportunities. I was a misfit of sorts, a person without a masters in a highly specialized niche, managing only through common sense and confidence. My last day turned out to be a fitting one as my friends made me a very thoughtful collage of all our pictures, painstakingly selected to include each person I had a bond with - although they left out the smiling gentle kakas - the watchmen who wish you first thing everyday, the one who bought me prasad from Siddhivinayak each tuesday.

I tend to be tipped on the scale of sentimentalism, if my blog already dint indicate that. So that day, I was determined not to cry. I knew i'd find it hard, cos its me, but i was on a mission. The put on a brave face cos your moving on to a new phase in life face. So I went about the day, doing what I love most - talking to every person who made a difference to my years there, and clicking snaps with all of them, thinking up captions for each picture. Thing is, when your around for a long enough time, specially todays attrition-riddled generation, a stint of 3 years+ means your probably among the oldest employees around. It also means you know everyone from cross functional departments - commercial, HR, etc. I was surprised, and touched by the genuine affection I was bestowed with, one that served as a detriment to my no crying agenda. Did I pull it off though? Yes. I did. well, almost. The breaking point came when I was accompanied to the taxi by all of 15 people, more a spectacle than anything else (Had i been not so emotionally overwhelmed, I wouldve made inappropriate jokes about how this was like a scene from Hindi movies when one person is moving from the village to the city and almost the entire village comes to see him off). At that time though, I interpreted it all as love.

Thats the thing though, life is just so much more myriad when you magnify each emotion, when you give and receive, love and be loved. Life really, is about the living, not the surviving.

Its tough moving on from a place of comfort, a zone of accomplishment, where everyone knows you for who you are and what your capable of. I, look at it as stagnating. Battling strangely intricate feelings, saddled with a healing heart and uncertainties was not easy. But again, who said anything that was worth something is?

What I did this summer!

2010-04-11T18:56:00.013+05:30

Wednesday, 7th April - Mumbai - Chennai

Thursday, 8th April Chennai - Delhi

Friday, 9th April Delhi - Kolkata

Saturday, 1oth April - Kolkata - Mumbai

3 days, 3 cities. Was madnessly tiring but fun as a concept. Only wish I had done the 'Golden Quadrilateral' by road and not air. Had to since was travelling on work. The highlights of the trip...

The last flight back home was half an hour late, and this was the most on time I got anywhere, averaging between an hour to and hour and half late.
Kolkata was 41'c!
I ate 4 meals by myself and hence the eating alone at a place phobia has been overcome.
I broke a plate at the buffet :/
Creepy guy on the flight said he'd add me on facebook. I therefore proceeded to misspell my last name.
Lived with her at Kolkata! YAY! :)
It turned dark at 6.30 p.m. in the evening at Kolkata whereas Chennai and Delhi were bright as sunshine!
I saw a TRAM at Kolkata!

All I do is miss you, and the way we used to be.

2010-03-31T20:20:00.004+05:30

I'm beginning to understand why people get 'boring' as they get older. Why butterflies in the stomach 'used to be' that feeling you knew, why it gets harder as time flies by. It was a strange, startling discovery when a song played in the background yesterday - Romeo and Juliet by Dire straits. One of my favorites.. Ive been humming it ever since.

I'm a music person - I had a song for every mood - mellow, happy, sad, sad-sad, happy-sad, melancholy, in love, heartbreak, make up, break up, aloof, spaced out.... I had one playing in my mind everyday and that song defined my mood. I remember this week that "Bittersweet symphony" was the song in my mind and I went about the week feeling randomly disjoint and pieced apart. This other time Boulevard of broken dreams was playing on my mind and I had a nasty few days since it reminded me of a friend whose no more. And it was his favorite song. Hungry eyes was that song I danced to. You get my drift.

Today on my way to work in the cab, I realized how the music in my life has been replaced. Slowly, without realizing the transformation I was talking to myself each day - debating the outcome of my day, the presentation I am supposed to make, that conversation I had last night, the emails I need to reply to, where my relationship is going, what Im going to write in my application essays... its all getting thought without a background score in place.

It was after that I hooked up my laptop and played back some of my favorite music - Mark Knofler, Coldplay, maroon 5, floyd... its safe to say that the state Im in currently could be called "on a trip" or "spaced out" or some other such vaguely intense definition.

Each song hides moments, memories - nestled in the notes, the lyrics. Its like Mark Knofler said "All i do is kiss you - through the bars of a rhyme". I've hidden so many stolen moments, kisses, glances, rides, tears, fears in the folds of so many songs... and discovering them sometimes by accident is just a delicious tingle - a feeling so infinite, of being able to travel time and 'relive'.

Moments have a way of shrinking when put into words - but they magnify when romanced with music. making love, out of nothing at all.

Here's to a homecoming - to my favorite boys - Dave Matthews band , Dire Straits , maroon 5, coldplay, Neil Diamond, Randy travis, Richard Clayderman, and my girlies - Norah Jones, Alanis and Tracy.

The Song I'd dedicate right now? 1992 Serendipity - Forever and Ever, Amen. Randy Travis. (click link for song)

The dice was loaded from the start...

2010-03-30T22:11:00.007+05:30

Romeo and Juliet, lyrics (Dire Straits) (click link for song)

On Saturday night I went for my college reunion. Engineering revisited - 4 years of my life spent in the nooks and crannies of a (then) raggedy old building. Its now new and funky - the run down shed like laboratories replaced by a new age modernistic look. Floating amphitheaters, a dinosaur ribcage stairway and a canteen that looked more like the food court of an expensive mall. I sure was wowed.

I found myself missing those hallowed shoddy walls - that makeshift look, and those dull grey corridors. These clinical precisely painted ones felt like they replaced my memories - hushed the secrets and caved in my relationships. 4 years is a long time to spend, and I had the biggest metamorphosis of my life in these years. I grew from being a tomboy with sideburns and anti-fit beer t shirts to being a "woman" who finally acknowledged breasts as a privilege and not an irritant. I had the biggest heartbreak of my life - one that in many ways shaped the way I love now, forged and lost some of the greatest friends I could possibly ever have. I failed miserably academically, realized engineering is a tough nut to crack, got my act together and redeemed my slowly declining self esteem.

Still, going back to college that day was a surreal experience. I met 2 friends, each my best in someway or the other. One, an ex-love. I can hardly say 'ex' when the never left that part of my heart right? Emotional investment in ways I dint know possible. Knowing I was coming to face him, nearly 3 years since made me unsure of myself, scared, uneasy, excited, a stew of multifarious emotions playing havoc. Nothing could have prepared me for the evening that lay before me, not even my best dreams about our eventual face off.

The actual function at college was nothing to write home about. I felt 50 years old, since the other "Alumni" were batch of 2009 etc. (Should they even be called Alumni?). After the "reunion" the 3 of us went to Soul fry casa at Bandra and 3 large pegs down, for one night, 5 years after graduation and a million changes in our lives later, we took time off to be the people we used to be. The same 3 fools talking random incoherent disjoint conversations. Changes, if any were only subtle. I took a few drags from a smoke, so there's a revelation, given my anti smoking tirade thus far.

These 2 people, changed in their own ways in the past 3 years felt like home to me. There's a certain comfort in being around people who knew "that" me. The naive foolish romantic one before stoicism and a general all round cynicism took over. I had no defenses, no walls, nothing, and this very sense of vulnerability, which I had denied myself the pleasure of feeling was exhilarating in itself. It was wonderful, and surreal.

Thats the thing with an ex-love. an old friend. everything about them reeks familiarity - the perfume brand you know, the contours of their body, the feel of their fingers, the curve of their smile, the undertone in their voice, that look in their eye, that wrinkle on the sides of the lips which give away the identity of a smirk, smile or sarcasm. They are like that dusty old armchair you can snug into whose touch make you feel better already, which understands your long sighs and pregnant pauses, that warm fuzzy ray of sunshine which creates a halo of elevated feelings that eclipses all else.

We couldn't even lie about how much we've changed. Structural changes aside - new jobs, promotions, going to school etc aside, on the person front, there were just no discernible changes. We just knew we had missed each other. There wasn't even a point denying it. Sometimes hugs and handshakes say more than words do, and we were smart enough to realize the futility of pretense.

We sat at the helipad in my building, 37 floors high on the highest point in Mumbai till 4.30 a.m. - long silenced interspersed with nostalgia, randomness and sighs, alternating between being with each other and alone. A dichotomy of singularity and togetherness as we transcended space, time, distance and change to be who we were 5 years ago.

Maybe one last time, maybe one last us.

Antaheen

2010-03-17T22:16:00.004+05:30

Pronounced - "Ontoheen" A Bengali film ** I watched yesterday.**p.s the link has spoilers

One I'd recommend you'll all to watch if you can lay your hands on it. National award 2009 winner, starring Rahul Bose, Aparna Sen, Sharmila Tagore, Antaheen starts off on a slow note, and cocoons you into a trance with the background score, the mesmerizing dialogues and the visual poetry. All my senses were heightened while watching this movie as I became one with the script and the unfolding of events.

No emotion is in abundance - the glory of this movie is in the subdued mellowness - one that engulfs us in our life more often than not. No time to love, grieve and really 'live'. A mellowness that you would relate to, of being in love and yet not, of being certain yet not for sure, of conversations in your mind coming alive with musical notes and moonshine and yet being unsaid. There are many love stories intertwined, and yet there arent. Ronjon da and Parro di love each other desperately yet contain it within the realms or their hearts and the depths of their eyes. Its easy to tell how much dependence and vulnerability links thee two characters, and still there's words unsaid, emotions unquantified and feelings undiscussed.

The movie absorbs you further and further till it reaches a melodious orgasmic finale. A sad one, but befitting of the string of reality that ties the movie together.

Modern day romances of song and dance and exaggerated feelings really make for a foolish watch. They're far from our daily lives and hard to relate to. In this scenario a film maker making a film with such superior emotions, such well rounded characters and screenplay that makes each scene look like a work of art, beautiful and lustrous in its depiction. This really is modern day Kolkata with Parro di a workaholic advertising professional having a smoke break and drinking a martini on her husbands birthday. The aerial views and the landscapes depicted are truly phenomenal, it almost makes one feel as though the director is just taking the liberty of showing off this city.

Sharmila Tagore's story is an unexpected one, which later one parallels with the more modern version of Rahul Bose's. how a modern setting can affect the same feelings, and the same emotions is truly worth a thought.

All in all, a must watch, and a wonderful experience to sit through. If you have it in you, try listening more to the Bengali - the dialogues are a treat, and in Bengali, even more sensous.

A why?

2010-03-15T18:06:00.001+05:30

Love is painful. And in that, we are all masochists - perennially wanting to fall prey to, or entice someone to succumb.

I ask you why?

Growing up is hard on the knees

2010-03-14T09:41:00.005+05:30

The top things I HATE about growing up (err, older)

Decisions - From which teacher I like most to which field should I specialize in, it just gets significantly harder. And your expected to take them ALL by yourself, AND do a good job of it. Heck what do I know? I no wanna get married, or decide which country to move and study in, parents outta do it. This half assed job of "now your grown up, you must decide yourself" is just them shirking their responsibility. yes.
Generation gaps - From the coolest thing you owned being a frisbee to now being uncool without an ipod. Getting 10 bucks a month and saving up from that to 1600 bucks a month and complaining (Yes, its a meager pocket money for a 16 year old apparently)
Changing landscapes - From "mommy whats this building", to "You know, during my childhood there was so and so here". I never got it when my father used to say Cuffe parade didnt exist then, it was all sea, and now i do when i point out a "used to be" to my 16 year old brother. A slow quiet renaissance in the landscape of the surroundings means it gets harder to identify with the new chique and clinical buildings. Old school Victorian architecture has a charm like no glassy, clean cut modern building can ever dream of having.
Obsoletion - (I know it isnt a real word) Brands, technology, favorite tv shows, actors, fads - all symbols of 'your time' - fade into oblivion. I take offense when my brother finds something i loved 'uncool'. drat 16 year olds
Complexity - work and professional life are getting more intertwined, childhood is fusing directly into adulthood, newer diseases are cropping up, and we struggle to stay afloat. come to think of it, even music succumbed - no longer are genres defined as 'rock' or 'pop' - theres 'fusion rock -pop' or 'punk techno blues' which basically means when i go to a club which apparently defines what music its playing that night, I have NO clue what to expect. Dj so-and-so playing the best of "house funk fusion rnb" and I pay 1500 rs for that?
Expectations - from one candybar for a good result in school to expecting a 100 thousand dollar salary from an MBA grade, we've come a long way baby.
Crossroads - I need to decide which country to move to. and Im hating it. Maybe why thats why this post.

Had a drink?

2010-02-02T17:06:00.004+05:30

Then STAY AWAY FROM DRIVING. Drinking and driving, or for that matter even speaking on the cellphone and driving is criminal and irresponsible. Not only are you responsible to your fellow passenger and yourself, but hundreds of innocent people on the streets too. Want to drink and drive? Feel free to bang into a pole, wreck your own car and bones. You have NO right to alter someone else life, someone who had no fault but to be on the same street as the menace you were driving.

For rash language and the forthcoming judgmental post, I do not apologize.

The recent incident with Nooria Haveliwala, the 27 year old South Mumbaiite who mowed down 2 people and injured 5 after a night of partying has shaken me to no end. Not only is she someone who is a friends friend, she is also an example of accidents waiting to happen. She had over 450 mg of alcohol in her blood (Of course now she claims it benadryl/someone was following her) after a long night of fun, was driving home in her expensive car which made good its claims of life saving air bags since she doesn't have a scratch on her.

Others, unfortunately weren't as lucky. Two people - a constable on duty and a motorcyclist taking a breath analyser test (not drunk) were killed and 5 injured. Innocent bystanders to someones irresponsibility.

My Facebook status sayign I boycott drunk driving and drunk drivers created an uproar of sorts - some friends claiming they've gone 13 years drinking and driving and never having an accident. My keyword for all those using this line is : "YET". You've not had an accident YET. Are you waiting to have one to be proved wrong?

I was looking at pictures of this girl, from her now deleted facebook profile - regular partying and socializing pictures - the kind that even I have on my profile. She probably dint realize she'd be making front page one day did she? That's the thing with accidents - they don't forewarn you, and hence you have to try and behave within acceptable and responsible limits - whatever is within your control. Im tired of learning from expensive mistakes.

Mistakes when so many people lose their lives and then we sit up. Drunk driving, 26/11, religious violence. Do we really need such expensive incidents to be shaken out of our somnolence? If we as citizens are so lackadaisical in our attitude towards OUR OWN RESPONSIBILITIES, who are we to point fingers at politicians and the government? After all, India is a democracy, our leaders were once regular citizens like us.

I've said this before, and Ill say it again. Lets take our responsibility seriously first, and then point fingers. Lets spread the contagion of civic and moral responsibility - its not that hard. I'm sure as hell gonna try.

Margaret Meade once said "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has" and I truly believe her. Its time you did too.

Making chapattis, one shape at a time.

2010-02-02T00:08:00.003+05:30

Yes, me.

My mom and maid are out of town and Im left at home with a 17 yr old brother and a dad. OH BOY. Bulls in a china shop is a better expression for how they are at managing their own chores. My dad does chip in his bit, by switching his (6.30 a.m) morning cup of tea with plain milk (phew) so I dont have to drag my half asleep self to make chai at unearthly times.

This does however enable my smartass-just-finding-his-sense-of-humour brother to come up with a few gems like "I wont do any of the girly stuff" (when I asked him to list how he will chip in with the work) by girly he of course meant cooking cleaning washing ironing. That effectively left me with the only logical manly thing I thought he'd do. eat. sleep. shit. (did this blog just turn PG13?)

There was also the "Fine. Ill do the kitchen stuff" When asked exactly WHAT he meant by that considering I am fully aware of his cooking prowess, he replied he'd make breakfast for us. It deserves an applause, certainly. UNLESS of course he serves us chocos and milk. Which he did. Which I had to un-serve and replace with chai, bread and egg. (Am I complaining already?).

To top it off, sunday evening I came home to find the two men in the kitchen, making chapattis (more like parathas). Obviously they were fat and burned and the kitchen window was closed which made the kitchen smoke up. The thought was all cute and captured on camera but 2 parathas down when I insisted on cooking myself and had to clean up their mess first, I realized they do me a favor by staying out of the kitchen. GAH.

I have new found respect for women who manage jobs, homes and men. I never realized how difficult it actually is. I am used to doing a lot of my own work, and am a bit of a monica in terms of ordering stuff, cleanliness and the like, but managing a house is a different ball game.

Here, my perfectly round, wonderful chapatis deserve a mention. Seasoned cooks like my mother took years to perfect the art of roti making - one which I have pursued relentlessly and now am perfect at. 3 points to me! Now if only the triangular parathas I was making wouldve turned out right. Ah well, one shape at a time.

And yes, this is a post after a really long time. Feel strange, having drifted away from your own blog. Although I have blog post conversations in my mind each day, they dont translate. But this is a step in the posting more often direction cause this is something I want to stubbornly hang onto. So hello again :)

Picking up speed, cause Im over the hill!

2010-01-05T16:50:00.005+05:30

If you dont know where your heading, but trying reallyy really hard to get there, will you still make it?

Screw Mid-life crisis. I have a quarter life crisis staring me in the face. A 24 year old in the guise of a 26 yr old who'll be 27 in 2010. Damn. I know Baz Luhrman said some of the coolest people he knows at 40 dont know what they want from their lives, but I sure as hell dont want to be one of them! Do I really want to trust someone whose greatest piece of advice was 'wear sunscreen' ? (I don't even do that. Im totally done for)

I have spent the last few months of my life focusing on direction. Changing lanes. Taking a leap. Yet today so many things are uncertain. Very unsettling. The next few months (years maybe) are an offshoot of the next 2 months. An algorithm which will determine which one of the two very conrasting lives Ill lead this year. And no Im not getting married. Which is another thing. 4 friends have fallen prey to the 'arranged marriage' bug last year ('09), most will be married this year ('10). one of whom, is my best and oldest friend. The one i know since 2nd grade and has been with me through thick and thin. It sure will be strange watching her sail off into the sunset, for the first time in a direction so far from me. She was one constant in my life since the past 15 years, one I'm used to being around in happy and sad sitatuions alike.

So, hello 2010. I have great expectations from you, personally and otherwise. I promise to work hard, strive for the things I want, and learn to relax a little more. Just give me a sign!

The end and a new Beginning.

2009-12-28T12:29:00.003+05:30

2 lost cellphones. one exams. one new niece. 4 more kilos. one pair of killer strappy black heels.
one more birthday. one almost wedding.3 terrorists. one aniversary. moving homes. brother beginning junior college. two haircuts. a million bruises and scrapes. one new watch. two exams. 3 more inches of hair. one boyfriend. 3 married friends. 2 pregnant ones. photo in paper. the beginning of Indiahelps. my first 'own' saree. 3 injections, a million spasmobars. one friend lost forever. Learning. Yearning. Earning. one dance class. 9 months in the new home. wasted gym membership. one dent 0n car. a million hours of studying, another million applying. 8 new books. my first stocks. one painful wart treatment. one bad fight. one sorry.

2010 here I come. I hope its happy. For all of us.

Riding the Elephant...

2009-12-26T00:39:00.002+05:30

Title derived from Shashi Tharoors - The Elephant, the tiger and the cellphone. (Currently reading)

I'm in an enamored phase - with my country. India. Call it the rub off effect of the two back to back books I just read - 'We are like that only' - Rama Bijapurkar and 'The elephant the tiger and the cellphone'. While the former turned out to be a light read given the industry I work in, the latter was a wonderful experience with its sophisticated language, insightful details and substantiated opinions. Shashi Tharoor is an intelligent man, one Ive grown to respect through the years.

Ive begun understanding Why we are like that only! from a few culturally rooted customs in India which our parents pass down to us. Surely we are a confusing lot, the really rich and the not so rich, the middle class and its upper and lower, the have some's and the have not's. But one things for certain -- India is represented in its plurality, its heterogeneity and the intertwining of cultures, religions, languages and the juxtaposition of classes. Tharoor says The Spanish speak Spanish, French speak French and Indians speak Marathi, Bengali, Gujarathi, Parsi, Sindhi and so on. So what defines brand India?

We know that the purpose of a brand remains the ability to spontaneously associate values, images and differentiators to a product offering. Say Life Insurance, and your likely to say LIC or say LIC and your likely to think trust, stability and security. Either way, your associating a brand with a category or vice versa. Unfortunately, think of brand India and we're likely to come up with myriad answers - foreigners are likely to conjure images of people squatting on public places, poverty drizzled all over the cityscape while Indians are likely to think of a more westernized answer - the IT/BPO rise of a new generation, Slumdog Millionaire etc.

India's getting richer -- but where is it going? We're certainly not investing in stocks or mutual funds. They're too risky a proposition for our conservative liking. The number of billionaires in India nearly doubled to 52 in 2009 and their combined net worth reached $276 billion, or a quarter of the country's GDP, the India Rich List published by Forbes magazine revealed. Not much of this money's going out of India though, most are settled within the country itself.

As we move into another year -- this one hopeful of a recovering economy, hesitant to exult much too early until results are backed up with a tremendous final quarter. Things do look good on the financial front though - the GDP forcecast exceeded expectations and stocks have slowly begun giving positive returns as well. Retail Investors had many opportunities of rallies and short term gains with a see-sawing index. A very senior person at a Broking firm I once presented to once told me "We guy get scared when the sensex plateaus - its when there are ups and downs that we're really geared up" Well, he sure had plenty opportunities this year.

I want to see reform in 2010. Delivery of promises. Burial of Ajmal Kasab. Burning to death actually. I want to see the end of the Trial and want my city to finally have its peace.

I want my country not to back down at Copenhagen in the future -- maintain its resolve on issues that are important. I want India to rise to the questions that surround its very existence - the success or failure of democracy, the globalization of its civilization and the threats to Indians from within India itself. I want this bird of gold*, to take flight.

(*bird of gold - name borrowed from Mc. Kinsey Global Institute report 2008)

Mc Dreamy? More like Mc Dorky

2009-12-16T22:44:00.005+05:30

I spent a few minutes trying to caption the title of this post appropriately. However, there seems no word to describe this feeling of insignificant little bittersweet teeny-tiny victory, this slightly nasty, very glorious, surprising exciting feeling.

There just isnt a word to describe how you feel when you see a boy you had a big crush on as a kid, a boy who you thought you will end up marrying (but did'nt of course because you well err umm, never spoke) GO BALD!!!

This is sweeter because this boy never spoke with you much because you were too much of a tomboy and beat him at basketball and flirted with that little punt in the mini.

I feel like prancing about in all my hotness and saying TAKE THAT :D

Boy, it feels good to be a little naughty sometimes.

Living in an Uptown World

2009-12-14T19:04:00.000+05:30

I just got back from Pune recently. Had gone to take a test to prove my proficiency in English. Could I not have sent them my blog link I wondered? But then that’s as good as wanting to send a link to your facebook profile to demonstrate personality facets. Come to think of it, it does seem rather efficient to do no?

Pune gave me what Mumbai hasn’t in many years... A cold winter morning. To think that I was dropped to the station in the biting cold in a two wheeler that only served to intensify the chattering of teeth, is strangely a delicious thought. It was great fun. Of course, being a typical low immunity Mumbaikar I was wrapped in ONLY about 4 layers of clothes and socks. The plurality of weather in the same day – the chilly wind meets mid afternoon sun makes one want to dance between shadows and sun. And this is only Pune, a few hundred kilometres from Mumbai. I remember my Delhi stint as a child – thats where the real winters are.

I have relatives in Pune, the closest to Mumbai. My folks are not from this city, and we moved here on dads posting and have been here ever since. Relatives interaction was restricted to vacations and there has little or no influence of extended family in my life. No societal pressure, no obligations whatsoever. Its strange then, that I envy friends who envy me. Friends who have large circles of family scattered around them in the city they live, often in the same buildings. Friends whose families all gather on occasions for gregarious parties, whose cousins are roughly the same age and who keep each other’s secrets, whose extended families are a wonderful, secure safety net, whose presence is redolent of a nourishing growing up and a symbiotic life.

Sometimes I don’t envy my privacy, the distance from family you meet once in 2-3 years, the family who doesn’t know your life and your formative years. I find myself in an extremely difficult conundrum – my parents, and therefore me have extremely modest backgrounds, as do most children of the post liberalization era. My life and identity with my extended family I feel, is another side of me, a mask I don when I’m around them. From not going out partying to when my granny’s visiting to not being vocal about how much time I exactly spend outside my house, how much money Id spend on apparel or a cocktail I like (or that I like cocktails, for that matter)its all a careful composition of the Serendipity that they’d expect from a branch of the family tree. Not to sound as though I have a very flashy lifestyle or that Im a social butterfly with her daily dose of cosmo’s, but I am a Mumbai girl after all – who likes her coffee shops, shoes, clothes, bags and shades. I almost fear that If I were to completely be me in my natural avatar, they wouldn’t associate with the external me. The congruence in core values among us, however is never an act or an enhancement, the fruit never falls far from the tree after all.

A lot of people my age in today’s day and age have grown up in an India of the free economy and are the post liberalisation generation (well almost, Im not THAT old), we have a multitude of opportunities for education, career, we have brands spoiling us silly, companies paying us more at a younger age, we’re not afraid of consumption – in fact we live by it. In short, we’ve not seen the frugal, thrifty side of India. The one our parents grew up in. The one my parents and relatives still live in. Luckily my parents have found a wonderful middle ground of modernity and traditionalism and embraced and imbibed it into our lives. They grew out of their small town roots and suffused all restricting thoughts and beliefs and have grown to be parents of the new India, striking a harmonious balance between luxuries accorded to us and other do’s and dont’s.

A major metro and small(er) town upbringing also plays its part in augmenting in dissimilar backdrops and hence differing attitudes. Again, not to say that I have differences with my EF, we get along just fine, its the feeling of not being as integrated into one another’s lives that I refer to here.

When we were planning my wedding a thought of how my metro crowd and my relatives would gel together would keep cropping up. A distinct difference between can be noticed even by the most ignorant of people – the affluence of the metro-folk and the modesty of the smaller-town folk. How the confluence of the two would play out at my wedding would play on my mind. Both would, in their right would enjoy the wedding I know, but how would cousins who’re used to speaking the native tongue most often gel with my friends with their articulate English? Minor inconsistencies and major ranting, I realize. But what’s on my mind is on my mind right?

26/11 - You Heard My story, now hear his.

2009-11-24T20:39:00.003+05:30

Last year, on the 26th Of November, My Dad walked into the Trident after hearing of some 'random bomb blast' in the Lobby. We didnt know what was happening as the media had reported stories ranging from Shiv Sena to local gangs to what not. We werent strangers to Hostile situations. 26/11 was certainly the worst, but not the first time My dads put his life on the line in the Call of Duty.

Little did we know what he was getting into.
You Heard my story - Now Hear His. My Dad, My hero.
(click on picture for embedded video)

Positive Affirmation for the soul

2009-11-19T14:35:00.001+05:30

Dear Serendipity of 10 years ago

2009-11-11T20:32:00.006+05:30

Wo. 26 in a months time? That's huge! Thats the age you made fun of when you were 16, thinking its over the hill. Your right about that though, what follows 26 is'nt very pretty. 27-blabla-30!

Your doing ok though, your kind of taking the round-about route for everything. For instance, remember you wanted to take up journalism, and then changed your mind and thought Medicine was your true calling? You ended up taking Engineering instead after you realized you pretty much pass out at the sight of blood. You did deal with the compassion you wanted to channelise into medicine in a different way though, you'll see. After 4 rigorous and testing years, Your not working in an engineering related job though. Your too fiery to be holed up in an IT/Software job. The Archer (Saggitarian) instincts in you meant you somehow found your way into a stream which you did'nt know of until you took it up. But it does give you a rush, Presenting to an audience of Senior Professionals, knowing what your doing counts for something gives you that adrenaline rush you love.

Oh, btw, Abhi and you didn't work out. Neither did most people you thought would. I cant believe you thought everyone who dated one year and above were serious enough to get married. Were you that Naive? Of course you were! You wanted to 'save up' for your husband, thinking of words such as purity, virginity and steadfast love were reasons enough. Well, hang on you did. Not that it matters in today's world anyway.

You know that guy who you were introduced to, who you though was a nerd-bomber cause he'd be studying in the library all time in the 11th standard when the rest of the world was bunking and having fun? That guy you barely even said hi to, and who wore shorts with socks and floaters just like you and that's the only thing other than his dimple you noticed about him? He grew to be one of your bestest friends, the guy you almost married, and then the friend you miss. Life sure is strange.

Do you remember being every body's buddy, the 'cute' one, but never 'sexy', and secretly wishing sometimes, maybe sometimes its the other way round? Do you remember your baggy trousers, short boyish hair, careless attitude and gruff unpolished tomboyishness? That you thought you'll always be the 'boy' in the group, the one whose always slapped around on the back and challenged to a basketball game? That sometimes you wished you had long pretty hair and made a guys head turn as you walked into a room? I got news for you. Your hair grew out, and you lost weight and boy did you make some heads turn. It was like a makeover story gone right. Well, almost. You still guffaw and burst into peals of unconfined unabashed laughter when you feel like it and vociferously let your opinion be known. A Leopard cant change its spots?

TBC...

A Reality Check?

2009-11-09T11:39:00.003+05:30

Was well overdue. I very excitedly exclaimed my new found poker and teen patti abilities on the facebook world, fueled by a recent winning spurt on Diwali day. 'Beginners luck shigginers luck' I told myself, 'you won by sheer talent woman'. Now a person like me dismissing beginners luck or any kind of luck is extremely justified given the strokes of (un)luckiness Im usually thick in the midst of. You know the person who waits in line for an hour to reach the ticket window and it shuts just when its her turn? Or the person who will make 7 trips to a government office, each time rejected for different missing documents, or the person who always plays Housie or cards and never wins? That's me!

[To be fair, I did win 5 bottles of citra in kids housie one time when i was 10, and another time i won a pair of plastic cockroaches for my rendition of a brilliant Hindi poem. (I thought they liked it?)] Heck, I was Memory game champ in Delhi and I STILL never won birthday party memory games - you know the one with the tray covered with 10 items and you have a minute to look at them and recollect? My all-Delhi champ status suffered a heavy bruising by these childish birthday party games. Its like Miss India losing in a Miss Lokhandwalla competition or something. [well, not exactly but you get my point.]

So, the point being that My initial assumption of acquisition of supreme poker playing skills were trashed (rather badly) when I cleaned out my first bank in a matter of 20 minutes. Clearly playing at 20 blind is an expensive affair with pots reaching the magnitude of 1500 rs in no time. I stared wistfully at my chips, long gone, and doing the rounds in other peoples kitty. Fortunately I lacked the courage of taking another bank immediately, choosing instead to be a spectator for the last two hours of the game. phew.

Must watch This video - Gus Hansen, known to be a reckless Poker player, and one of the highest poker pots in the history of the game. I feel ashamed missing my 500 bucks.

Unsaid but heard

2009-11-05T17:14:00.002+05:30

Its like I can almost FEEL my blog glaring at me, angrily shunning typed words and loving caresses on the keyboards with arrogance. 'Check the number of drafts you have', I feel as though its saying back to me. 'I thought we were friends!'
Im here now, and thats what matters, Im saying. No?
'But Your the unquestioning, non judgemental part of my life!' I hear myself saying and then I do a double think. Is it really the case? Am I really in a place (or link) which is unquestioning and non judgemental? Am I putting myself out there for people I dont want to find out about me to know all about my life?
'You thought about changing the link, dint you?' My blog asks me, in disbelief. Im almost afraid to answer.

I don't know why Ive been away. Its not as though things have been tremendously bad, or gloriously blissful. They sort of evened themselves out. A great day, followed by a terrible one, followed by a mellowness of sorts. I still felt the need to keep to myself, to not give off myself and hang on tight to myself.

I have a bunch of questions to ask and things to say and thoughts to unload. To be continued...

You know your not the only one...

2009-11-03T15:52:00.002+05:30

Whose Losing track of time when your friend calls you excitedly, half asleep and wishes you
"Happy birthday!" when its a month away, assuming its December.

I feel better already!

All you need

2009-10-07T15:34:00.001+05:30

.....To cheer up sometimes is Chaai, cheesecake and an old friend.

2009-09-17T15:12:00.002+05:30

Its easy to tell the months I had the most work from the frequency of blog posts, in inverse proportion. More the work --> fewer the blog posts. A cursory glance at the archives now tells me that last time this year, work began dwindling slowly, but surely, reaching an all time low nearing the first quarter of the year (J-F-M) and slowly building up again. August has been the busiest month so far, apparently. Well, I can credit that to the exam that I took which completely devoured my waking hours.

Right now is a strange state of existence. Euphoric markets, Burgeoning Gold prices and the overall positivity in a revival has overtaken the conservative and cynical mindset that had crept in. Good news is everywhere, the unemployment level in the US, where it all started is looking up, growth ratios are rising and inflation is finally over the negative level. Now is the turn of the people who missed the bus to lament. I'm already hearing the 'Damn, I shouldve invested in the stock market in March (it was at 8,000 - the lowest since the last few years)' or 'I should've looked at buying a house the rates are bound to increase at some point' (they already have). Shoulda coulda woulda.

It started with the optimists who had invested at 21k levels going near bankrupt, then came the smart Alec's who stocked up even at 8k levels and didn't let market sentiment cloud their judgement, and now finally the last kind, the "I shoulda's". I'm of the opinion that weigh the pros and cons one must, but at the end of the day also have a heart for a little win-lose situation, else it is better to stick to safer (low return) investments for the faint hearted.

Citing my own example, I took a huge risk by investing a significant amount of money right before counting day [declaration of elections]- a decision that was critiqued by many. However given that I had a balanced portfolio with a backup safety net well in place, I went ahead and took the risk. Turned out well in my favor (sensex has grown 5000 points since) but I can see the difference in the way I'm handling my account. The initial boldness, the quick decisions and snap actions have given way to reserved deliberation, more informed decisions and a more thought out strategy.

I wonder whats in store, some people assure me a correction is on its way. Book profits now and buy again on dips, I'm told. But then again, this coming from the same people who told me to wait till after the election results since the sensex tanking was but a certainty then. Others say the only way now is UP. Buy and Hold is their mantra. I, on the other hand am caught on a fence between both. I'm not a fan of getting caught up in short lived market sentiment and riding the wave of exhilaration unless its backed by strong fundamentals fueling the growth, and neither a fan of being far too conservative and losing the opportunity in the process.

I'm a DIY (Do -it-yourself) girl. I've navigated investments and the unknown territories of life with enthusiastic fervour and optimistic anticipation. I've taken responsibilities for my mistakes and (more than enough) credit for my good decisions (which is to say I've relentless made sure they remain top-of-mind among my people). I've pored over my ITR's and understood long and short forms in my account documents. I enjoy the complete command over my finances and personal life, both. Which is why you can imagine how unsettled I feel when I'm unsure what to do.

2009-09-15T16:15:00.003+05:30

You'd think one would get enough of losing one phone a year. And then for some reason, you feel the need to outdo your expectations and lose another one. In-less-than-a-year. Although there were near-misses many times in the past year. Remember this guide? Turns out, it doesn't work if you drop your phone in a parking lot. (Who would've thought eh?)

I've come to believe that I need to staple my belongings on my person in order to retain them. How else can I explain losing the one item i check for furiously every fifteen mins in a wildly neurotic fashion? Incredibly upset doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling right about now.

Every time I figure out a way of making sure I don't lose it in a moving vehicle or a restaurant, a new explored territory (e.g. parking lot) takes me by surprise, or the item rotates (remember this?) Among the many mysteries that engulf my everyday life are why I'm insistent on losing important, expensive and impossible to recover things. Why cant I just lose simple things like hair clips and pens. (Err No, wait scrap that, I do those already).

After reading this, I can no longer claim to be 'fairly responsible', and the boy has taken it upon himself as one of his key 'to-do' things to remind me of every few hours (minutes). I'm still trying to figure out suitable come-backs as currently, I have nothing that can fly. Any help in this department will be greatly appreciated via honourable mentions on blog and oodles and oodles of free publicity and increased blog hits. (I'll tell all 4 people who read this blog to visit yours).

To add to my already morose mood, Patrick Swazye passed away. He was one of my first crushes (Not counting Nick Carter of the backstreet boys uggh) and had a goosebumps inducing, flip-flop stimulating, voice and smile. The scene where he runs his finger down her hand? Can picture it with my eyes open. Patrick, for being the first man who made me want to dance with a boy *like that* and for being a complete dreamboat, You will be missed.

The Fugly Truth

2009-09-14T12:36:00.005+05:30

Watch this. For a Fun filled 2 hours something and an inside on what Kaminas Men actually are (Read: Pretend to be).

Having been movie-less for the past two months on account of an extremely packed schedule, I finally broke the monotony with a regrettable experience watching Life Partner which frustrated me even more than I was to begin with. Enough said.

The Ugly truth caters to both sexes. For the Men, it serves a generous sprinkling of sexist jokes mostly all referring to the fact that Men like two things in a woman (I leave this to your imagination, though I will hint that they're both referring to two very prominent features of a woman's anatomy) lol. Gerard Butler pulls off being a typical Male Chauvinist with the arrogance of a suave Ladies man with a side order of adoring Uncle. A typical girls fantasy - A Bad guy gone good :D I know I DIG the kind.

For the ladies, there are generous doses of Eric Winters and Gerard Butler who fit into the Rom-com mode fantastically, though for me, he'll always be King Leonidas. (h-a-w-t). Katherine Heigl fits the role perfectly, a causal sexy smart and sophisticated virginal woman. Her metamorphosis into a more out-there sexy and Gerard Butlers tips for attracting men are a riot. 'Women should have longer hair', he says, 'since men like to have something to hold onto other than a woman's arse'. The movie is full of gems of wisdom such as this.

I think most women would identify with Katherine's character - the ones who believe the right guy is out there. Most men would also identify with Gerard - the ones who believe that Lust is easier to obtain than Love and also not so hard on the knees. But most of all, we all identify with the dilemma, of being completely swept away by what your feeling, when you least expected it.
Yes, the truth as Gerard finds out, is really out there. And sometimes, its pretty. Very pretty.

F.Y.J.C

2009-09-09T15:22:00.006+05:30

Bloggers block? Hellyeah.

Either Life isn't interesting enough or I'm way too busy. Fortunately its the second one this time around. I cant imagine my life being uninteresting with the chaos that its always neatly ensconced in :D

Plenty things happening though, My (little?) brothers begun (the same) junior college (as me) and its induced major bouts of nostalgia. Do they serve the same naram sada dosa? Is the same Chinese Aunty (err, Catholic Aunty who served Chinese food during lunch) there? Did the Principal use the 'Even our dustbins are pretty' phrase during this years induction as well (he did for the 2 years we were attending). Is the same South Indian Math teacher still teaching? (The answer to this was derived from a short mimicry of her expanding the expression - (m+n)^2 = eyum esquaya plus yunn esquaya the WHOLE esquayaa) p.s. no offence intended at all, she was a sweetheart. and yes, she's still there)

Given that he's attending college and has now become image conscious, my brothers taken it upon himself to look as old and mature as possible. This he feels, is best accomplished by sporting a rough-hazy-puberty-ish moustache (?) and stubble (?) as well as a rough matty, uncombed (just out of bed, is it called?) look. My mother, on the other hand is horrified at this blatant disregard for hygiene and insists he shave it off and comb his hair. (More like tame his hair). He has (and I say this in the most affectionate of tones) a mane of sharp pointy angry gruff hair that have clung to his scalp so well that I'm positive his scalp receives little or no sunshine under the foliage. I stay out of this discourse as it is in my best interest to have both like me. Which basically means I agree with both, individually in the absence of the other.

Also, much progress seems to have been made on the *ahem* ladies front. What started off as a class full of shy adolescents, has now formed into over 50 facebook friends in a few days and the mega expansion of phone numbers. Since he's lost two phone's already, currently he's on penalty time and phone-less. He was relegated to sharing my mom's phone since the past few days. In an amusing turn of events, the names that were initially labelled completely and corectly have all been condensed into alphabets. Namrata is now N, Aditya is A and Aditi is Ai :D

I'm glad though, I always wanted my brother to be a charming young man and I'm pleased (as punch?!) to see him becoming a fine young man, youthful, naughty, witty and smart.

Speaking of Nostalgia, and age 16. Its amusing to see that whenever he's talking to a boy on the phone, its in a loud, boisterous fashion, whereas if its a girl, you can barely hear his voice even if your seated by his side. Reminiscent of my childhood calls when Akshay's used to be Akruti's, Rahuls used to be Radhika's and Sahil's - Sarikas or any other girls name closest to it, for the purpose of the call :D

He's also taken to wearing smart-Alec t-shirts with slogans on them like 'If found please return to bar' and 'Beer is where the home is' and other alcohol related wisecracks, gelling his hair and generally a heightened sense of appearance. What good does it do I keep thinking, when 10 years later, your going to realize how horrible you looked at that age. I have plenty boycut-shorts and floaters-braces on teeth photos that I cringe when I look at. There's one picture of me in a sweatshirt (Chicago Bulls baby), shorts, socks and Floaters. Arghh. Someones autographed it asking me whether i was feeling hot or cold :S omg. yikes.

Memories are like a breath of fresh air, they just engulf you with their refulgent glow, enthuse you with happy pasts and suffuse your aura with pleasing hues. My favorite 'pick-me-up'

(p.s Mumbaikars will be familiar with the full form of the title of the post)

Charade Parade

2009-08-30T18:38:00.006+05:30

Its been a while, I know. But I allow myself the luxury sometimes, of slipping into mindless emptiness or self preservation without splashing my feelings all over the Internet and the phone, of drifting away into a land where there's just me. We all should. Its liberating, (to say the least) to live within the walls of your own confinement, free from boundaries yet bound by your solitude. Its therapeutic too, a complete detoxification of all thoughts and feelings re-lived and rekindled, a dialysis of thoughts where I think the things I put away and don't think about, confront fears I assume wont happen to me, refresh my present and envisage my future and in short, just re-know me.

Its been a rough couple weeks. A pattern, as always, a domino effect of things just all coming together at once which sets me back a little bit, overwhelmed with the magnitude, awed by the challenges to be overcome. It always comes together, all at once. If only I carefully heeded M. Scott Pecks advice - 'Life is supposed to be hard', he says, 'I don't know why people assume it isnt!'

A bit of growing up has been accomplished in the past few weeks. Some startling conversations with a few loved ones set me back emotionally considerably, while at the same time, the magnitude of respect I have in me, for those individuals, multiplying manifold.

Nothing is as it seems. Life is led with a hidden interconnected web of underlying relationships, moments, tangential emotions and most of all, superficial masks, Underneath which lies the real deal, the whole enchilada. Some people, such as I, wear their hearts on their sleeves. For such people, masks are the equivalent of nothingness. Every emotion and agenda displayed clearly on body language and faces. Life is clearly demarcated into crests and troughs, all dealt with at an unsteady pace, but for all to know.

Most people wear masks, projecting selective profiling information that would lead you to believe exactly what they want you to believe. A happy marriage, or an enviable relationship perhaps? Both can be had by clever manipulation of stories and fancy adjectives by the willing and the capable. The real story could be the converse of what you are given to believe. More often than not, this manipulation is often for themselves, rather than a third person. They want to believe he loves them, or that they have a happy marriage, or that they have a great job and hence project only information that portrays the same. While this could be a great way of self motivation and positive therapy (You cant run away from all your problems, or cut off people at the drop of a hat), this could lead to serious repercussions. This person could live in his or her fantasy, convinced the play he or shes leading is, in fact the reality of his or her life. Any person who would speak otherwise or see the truth in another light, would then, naturally be deemed to be lying, or wrong, or hurtful.

There's another kind too, The kind who are not riddled by disillusion, well aware of the inconsistencies of their life, who lead it with quiet dignity and contained anguish. I recently discovered someone whose so so close to me leading a life I never imagined her to, and taken aback by her strength, perseverance and grit. She overcame her weakness, confronted her vulnerabilities and is moving on with her life with the gusto of a naive young untainted child. She inspires me, and that conversation with her changed a part of me, forever. Never give of yourself completely to anyone, she said, holding my hand in hers, shaking from grit and silent despair. I wont I promised her, and I know Ill have to do so. I will.

We've all heard about the story of the Jackal (or was it the wolf) and sour grapes. It applies to us more than we think. Most often the things we joke about or claim we don't want, are in fact, the few things that we want the MOST. We're just not ready to accept it. I find however, that the minute I say 'I want something' its easier for me to work towards it rather than going in the converse direction. After all, We are not what Life makes of us, life is what WE make of it.

How do you know?

2009-07-23T16:12:00.004+05:30

Everyone around me is either taking the plunge, about to take it, or obsessing about taking it. How do you know when he's the one? How do you know if She's the one? One life is all we've got... how do we understand whose the best person to share it with, to be witness to our ups and downs. There are no right answers - only perspectives.

Having been through a fair share of 'I think its him' and 'Oh god NO's' I'm more certain of what I don't want - than what I actually do want. Ive turned from a girl easily influenced by Romantic Comedies who identified with all the heartbroken leading ladies except for the last bit when they're swept by the man of their dreams (When that part came on, I'd cry).... to one who knows Real life is more subdued, there's no background music and sometimes what isn't said, but felt - is prettier than a romantic line from a love song...

A girlfriend almost in a relationship with someone did background checks on his family and standard of living etc.. this was purely genuine protecting herself - before she got into something she dint have a clue about. A good mix of rational thinking in love. I wholly agreed with her decision, but at the same time thought back to the time A happened. I went along with the feeling in my heart and just let go. I have not met his parents yet, and am not willing to do so until my parents come around (They haven't yet). Here i realized how my claims of being more rational and realistic than a few years ago got rubbished in an instant. Somehow love for me has always been something I cant mix procedures with, But I see how important it is. I do.

I want to be married to a man who balances me... who I can talk nineteen to a dozen with, but whom I can also be silent with -- content with the moment, and his being, comforted by his Aura, silenced by his strength and rejuvenated with his presence... Less than perfect is perfect. Exactly what I want. I dont want to wonder if A is the one, imagine a wedding and a 'beyond'. I want to KNOW.

So how do you know? Will you know when you have a fight all day but the minute you feel slightly sick he's forgotten that it was your fault to begin with? Or that the first person you want to call when your happy or your sad is him? Or that you love how he treats your kid brother? Or how he doesnt say the perfect things all the time, but when he does say somethign nice your day is made? Maybe. Maybe not.

In a way Im tired of not knowing. I want my life to move on, I want to unveil 'him', that person whose mine all mine. I want to be proposed to, and have a ring on my finger and belong to someone. I want to add another name to mine and have a ridiculously long and crazy mixed breed surname, and have a home and decide what colour tiles my bathroom will have. Give in, completely - mind and body and know what its like. Finding out what its like to go home to someone and lie down next to someone and wake up next to him and know he's yours.

Comeone life, get a move on!

Two Years and Writing...

2009-07-09T19:20:00.003+05:30

We turned two yesterday. Happy birthday to us, Nomad!

2 years, one steady job, one massive heartbreak, 4 extra kgs, 2 lesser piercings, 5 inches of longer hair later, here I am. Im not sure if Im back at square one, or far from it. Im still in pursuit of that higher education, insistent on a top notch school, still not happy with that extra inch here and there, still hoping that the boy who holds my heart is the one, still hoping, still pursuing all these dreams that 2 years ago I thought I would be living now.

It feels like nothing's changed, yet so different Im speed dialing a few different people now, Im seated in and around colleagues none of who were around when I joined, Im living in a new home yet Im going old-homewards every weekend...

This blog is a part of me, piece by piece put together, sugarcoating the upsets and livening up the bright spots in my life... and Im glad Im still at it, two years and writing. Unlike most other hobbies that come and go, have sharp crests and troughs, this one has been relatively stable. I feel as though I went through so many things here, and got so much support during 26/11, the Indiahelps venture, the other random incosistansies of life.

I'd been meaning to do so since a long time... Nomad I love ya! For your support, love, warm hugs and enthusiasm for any and every plan. For coming over to my house this birthday, for the tears you cried for me, for the feeling that I can tell you anything at all and you wont judge me, for being fun and really really cute, for loving shopping and cheecakes and brownies as much as I do and for happening to me when I needed a bright spot in life. You happened at the right time, and I wish you were still at the same office so we could take off on impromptu friday evening plans and trade books for coffee. There are a few things I DONT like about you though and this is for all to know. Your a woman and married. You ought to have been a man and single. (hmmpf) You never take me on your vacations. (Double hmpff). You PERPETUALLY have guests over = lesser opportunities to meet. and last, You mean the world to me.

How I wish...

2009-07-07T17:17:00.004+05:30

I could go back.

**Update! For Aniket and Howdoweknow who are instigating me, Ive decided to oblige :D but this wont be easy. Spot me. Two EXCRUTIATINGLY easy clues.

I was the class Tomboy with the shortest hair, and no I dont have curly hair.
I have one of the largest smiles in this picture.

Watchyouwaiting for :P

and for the rest, second row from top, third from your right (when your facing the photo) :D

Help Abhishek..

2009-07-03T13:46:00.003+05:30

Crosslinked here.

I woke this morning to a very disturbing story, one that jarred me out of my somnolent stupor and quickly hastened my heartbeat to a zillion knots. This is a true story, I can vouch for since I picked up the phone and spoke to this mans brother. Here is his story ...

Abhishek is a young 30 year old man, who was working as a brand manager in Britannia Industries until recently. An innocuous fever led to the discovery of cancer within his body - and he has been diagnosed with Bi-phenothypic Acute Leukimia (BAL) a type of blood cancer. He is to undergo matched unrelated donor transplant - the cost for which is USD 20,000 or roughly Rs 1 crore.

He has undergone three sessions of chemotherapy till now, and donors are being sourced by doctors from the Apollo hospital (Chennai) and CMC (Christian Medical college, Vellore). Currently Rs 55 lakhs needs to be updated for the transplant. The family does not need any financial support other than raising this mammoth amount for medical bills.

I have spoken to his brother, Abhijit, and he has said he will keep in touch with me regarding progress.

This case is curable, and the operation can save his life. He has a young wife, and no children.

Visit the link for more details and pictures - http://www.helpabhishek.com/helpabhishek/home.html In case anyone wants to help out, please mail us at indiahelps@gmail.com or leave me a comment and ill get back to you or contact Abhisheks family directly through contact details available on the site.

Would request other bloggers/tweeters to take this up and display on your blogs if possible. Thanks.

What? Already!

2009-07-02T14:51:00.005+05:30

On Monday night was J's 26th birthday. 26?? Since when did my friends start going over the hill! (Anything over 25 is on THAT side of life). As soon as I turn 26 this Dec, this shall be suitably altered to Anything above 30.... and so on. Also, under and over 25 year old jokes shall not be entertained.

J's a friend I know since 2nd grade, second oldest only to a certain boy who wanted to marry me in 1st grade. (Whose proposal I accepted of course, and since then he and only he had rights sit next to me in class, pack my bag and sacrifice the sweets and biscuits or any item of food that could be considered fancy to please the love of his life, namely me. This love story had an abrupt ending as my mom, having already given me benefit of doubt over the discovery of remnants of sweets and chocolates, none of which were given by her, for more than a few days, quizzed me about the source of aforementioned goodies. I bravely informed her of my decision and impending marriage and well, that was that. Being mature and sophisticated even at that age, I moved past a broken heart with laudable poise and assured him well always be friends.)

We celebrated with a fun grand party indoors - Lord praise Airconditioning and the indoor Bar area - Flamboyante @ Seven. GO!

It was when this song started playing and we ran to each other, screeching half way across the dance floor, hugged for a whole minute, it being the song we danced to, for a Teachers day performance in Nineteen Ninety freakin five 1995!!! That was my only dance performance till date and more so, the only one in which I, played a girl, having been always relegated to playing the male character in every performance. Ive been Jesus, Krishna, the male escort to a beauty queen, a male train commuter (who insisted on getting a moustache painted on for a genuine appearance), a wicked Qazi (Who forgot a section of her lines, which meant that the other characters dint get to say theirs, which meant a whole section of the pay was skipped ).

J being a typical girlie with longish hair was forced to stuff her hair into a hideous cap borrowed from a *ugh* boy, and I had to dig out the ONLY skirt I owned and find a pair of shoes that were not sneakers. The importance of make up being completely lost on me then, my opposition to the same was callously subdued and red goop spattered on my lips. Needless to say, a tomboy with hair as short as a boy + girly clothes and makeup = almost crossdresser appearance.

Come to think of it, it was after this 'performance' that I was always assigned speaking roles - Narrators, Main leads, but NONE close to dancing. All that genuine effort to display womanly grace gone to waste. Some people just aren't appreciated before they're long gone. Ah well, either ways, its the last time they got to see this boo-t-ay.

J and I were also together in the aformentioned wicked Qazi play together, where she was the farmer, and I was the wicked Qazi where my Prized genuine 'Hornets' t-shirt (Basketball = sport of choice) made its stage debut, and was coupled with an ankle sized (knee length to Mom) overcoat so as not to make the character appear too frivolrous. I was a cold-blooded treacherous oppresive Qazi who cheated innocents out of thir hard earned money after all. While there was no mistaking the cartoon tee under the black overcoat, Im sure the audience appreciated the efforts of getting into the skin of the character whilst interpreting him as a basketball enthusiast, thereby giving him an identity, through my sheer actors instinct. I think.

I have now come to terms with having been a kook most of my life. And so has she. She's still around, and so am I. And I hope we always will be.

The wicked Qazi and the hapless farmer remained best friends for the rest of time. The end.

Almost Family

2009-06-29T14:54:00.003+05:30

Remember this? Its still there. And very painful. Although after considerable pain and uncomfortable toe stubbing and foot stepping instances, I have been regularly visiting my doctor every saturday morning at 7.30, bright and early. I drive down to town (a.k.a. Colaba!!) get a bloody (and I mean that literally) scraping done, the resultant wound cleaned and dressed and proceed to begin getting all my other errands done. Being a dutiful homely (!) girl I buy the weeks vegetables, get the passbook updated (yes some banks still use them), buy groceries (or, in Defence kids terms, go to the canteen), and other adhoc things that crop up during the week.

Its odd, we've moved, but we still visit the same tailor, the same doctor, buy our vegetables from the same vendors in Navy Nagar (the Fruitwala bhaiyya always cuts me a fruit when he sees me, and insists he's going to supply the fruits at my wedding, whether or not we invite him. Needless to say, he's invited), get our sheets laundered from Moti Bhaiyya (whose Dad was our Dhobi, so to say from the time we've moved to Mumbai) who operates from inside Navy Nagar, but insists on still picking up our laundry by kinetic and dropping it off.

The More I grumbled about having a million errands to run each time I head this side of town, the more I realize that these aren't errands, they're contact points that we've maintained since over 20 years. They're people and faces we've been living around. We've seen Moti Bhaiyya come to our house as a pimply faced teenager on his cycle, been invited to his wedding and met his babies. The fruit and Vegetable bhaiyyas dont let me carry my bag to the car, they call me Bitiya - having seen me scamper around my folks impatiently as a small girl. Prem Bhaiyya (Moti Bhaiyyas younger brother) grew from taking laundry on a bicycle to a top executive working in an IT firm, and yet last year, to invite us for his wedding, he came in shorts armed with our clean and ironed clothes - a lesson to us in Humility and being down to earth.

These aren't errands. They're all people my Dad's help find jobs, place kids, give advice on schools and colleges and what not, who repay him with ardent respect and relentless dedication.
They're people who called us every few hours on the 26th 27th and 28th of Nov when Daddy was inside the Trident, knowing he wouldve driven in, to find out if he's alive, and stopped only when I assured them on friday (29th) that he is ok, and wont be coming home anytime soon, but is fine neverthless. RamNiwas, Daddys masseur whose duty is fixed at my house on saturday evenings since nearly the last 15 years, spoke to me in broken tones saying he couldnt work until I call and tell him Dad's ok. They prayed with us and cried with us. And they're not family and technically not friends. But so much more.

Sometimes in life there are people who impact your lives in ways you never knew, because you never had to think about it. Relations beyond the skeletal definitions of relatives, family and friends.

26/11 gave me a reason to think of all the people who called and messaged and prayed with us. A reason to think of all the people who affect my family's lives and whose lives we affect. The first few days were spent in shocked stupor, the next few in exhausted haze. Its only a week or two after the event that happenings of those few days would come back suddenly and I would remember someone unexpected who would have called or messaged, and Id sit back and feel overwhelmed. People who we hadnt heard from in years, some even decades, but they came through for us.
Something we don't care to give a thought to, in our frenzied haste to get through our lives. In most cases we're left to realize how much a person impacted our lives after they're gone, and remembering tiny symbolic instances of their love or our connection with them.

I wish I could convince you how important it is to love wholly and deeply, to give completely and unrepentantly, do away with ego and high handedness, apologise appropriately and act responsibly, hold together tight and close people who're worth it, and have them know it. Because it is so, very important. If you can manage, tell me how.

2009-06-17T23:55:00.003+05:30

I cant believe it still. More than a day later I cannot yet believe
that my friend... Sam, all of 25 years of age is no more... He met
with an accident on his bike and had a headlong collision with an
oncoming truck which sped out of control. I wish he hadnt passed away
on the spot... I wish he had a chance... I wish someone, anyone called
me and told me that this is a miserable joke being played on us.

People are not meant to die at this age.. 25. Its as though god showed
you a glimpse of what life is, and before you could enjoy it, your
times up. I cannot start to imagine what his parents and younger
sister must be feeling... Given that I, who used to meet him once a
year and speak to him on and off have been shocked out of my mind and
spent the last two days in complete denial and shock. I wish i dint
have to learn the hard way that life is too short to take anyone for
granted. promise me youll learn from my mistake.

Its such an irony that he spent the last two years working in a
foreign country, came back for good only this saturday and passed away
yesterday. Its almost as though he came to say goodbye. I can hear his
voice telling me hes coming to Mumbai this weekend and well go to theo
and eat the brownie and gaylord and eat the muffin like old times and
me making fun that hes competing with a football.

I can hear his voice which i spoke with just a few days ago and it
seems impossible that it wont be around.

He was one of those friends who just made his way into your life, just by being there so unquestioningly. Whenever he was in Mumbai, he'd come from one end of town to the other just to make it a point to meet me. I on my behalf was horrible and caught up in my routine. What do I even say... Im remembering that time I just wanted to take a break and quit for no reason, and he offered to sponsor me for two months!! Knowing him, he wouldve done it.

I took him for granted on
more than one occasion and shamefully have to admit that I dint
deserve someone who stood by me unconditionally, no matter how i
behaved... I dint deserve to know hell always be around.
None of us do. If you love and care for someone, let him or her know.
Dont leave home or go to bed unresolved.
Lifes way too short...
Sam, you will be missed. Forever.

To everyone else - We had a safety workshop organised by Castrol a few months ago. The one thing that reverbrates in my mind from that workshop was the line 'The ONE time you didnt wear your helmet/seatbelt was the ONLY time you needed it'. And how true it is. Sampath was not wearing a Helmet, and I beg everyone reading this, to NEVER EVER drive without precaution. Anything can happen even in those ten minutes that you dont wear it, please dont learn it the hard way.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Its all in the Drafts

2009-06-10T11:35:00.003+05:30

Its already midway through the year. I did a double take as I corrected an excel file date to '06' as the month yesterday. So whats the hurry? Why does time have to fly so fast? When do we catch up? DO we catch up at all? Each year I go through the same 'Holy hell, its (insert name of month) already, Im still in March-April mode.

This time it feels different. I feel different. Older. Like I need to substantiate my life with purpose. Except a few hiccups along the way I can safely say my life is in the same place it was 2 years ago. Plus and minus a few people, a little weight, longer hair, a new home, everything else maintains status quo. While this sounds comforting to few, to a fiery saggitarian like me this is a scary state of affairs, and the complacency of the past few years and my uncharacteristically non aggresive approach to life is catching up with me.

Somewhere in the midst of the things Im posting on my blog and the things Im not, my life's going on. And more often than not in recent times, the hard times are being swept under the rug, and kept in the drafts.

It was so much easier when we were in school. The biggest milestone to cross then was getting a good grade in the 10th standard and an admit into a good college. Then came clearing the 12th Boards and getting into a Graduate course of choice. Then came selecting a Masters degree, one which is mandatory these days, given that colleges are churning out engineers like cattle now a days, followed by getting a job. And then?

Friends are getting married left right and center. Facebook albums of friends are filled with pictures of the recent wedding/engagement/roka/baby. December is very nearly on the brink of being usurped by wedding festivities to be attended. Those who're not getting hooked are being cajoled into looking at suitable candidates from their own caste through our age old 'Arranged marriage' ritual.

Im not saying I want to jump onto the married bandwagon. Im not saying I dont either. Bring me a pretty ring and a pretty proposal and Ill say one of the two ;)

Upheaval is necessary. Unless I do something drastic, life's not going anywhere. I was never the one to be afraid of risks. When did I get so caught up in being cautious? A few years ago I could aptly be described as happy go lucky, who would take each day as it came. That was the time when I needed to get serious and take control of my life... I just did'nt realize when I walked past the line of equanimity and inched towards wanting obsessive control over every aspect of my life. There ought to have been a beeper. Life's a sadist. One can spend their entire lives running to and from one one end of the see saw to the other hoping to acheive that perfect balance little knowing that this is the game we're meant to play each day every day - but perfect harmony eludes us, because its not meant to be.

We're meant to struggle, to lose people we love, to not get what we want, or to get what we want and then realize that its not what we want, or to fight like the mouse that whipped milk into butter and made his way out of the bowl, to test our mental and physical endurance everyday whilst fielding life's many riddles, trying to outwit hurt, escape heartbreak, defy unhappiness, relentlessly. To put on smiles and be cheerful or bubbly or whatever else it is that our personality demands of us, to play our part in this preordained web and hope that we have a happy ending.

Pessimism from me sounds rather odd, even to myself. Im just ready to change the gears in my life and Im scared stiff. Should I go the safe, backed up way, or full throttle guns blazing all or nothing way. I hate crossroads.

Wasabi? No Mujh

2009-06-04T16:58:00.004+05:30

In a continuation of how old I'm beginning to feel, I spent half the day yesterday fretting over having to go out last night for a friends birthday and another friends return from the US of A, on a weekday no less. Fully aware of what time I will be getting home, this is what I back calculated many times through the day.

[7.45 a.m. (wake up time)] - [Time of getting home (a.m.) + 30 mins (Bath+Brush+Prayer+make bed) ] = VERRRYY late in the a.m. = Wayy too little sleep.

...And dealing with the repercussions of a late night mid-work week such as the Multiple Yawn syndrome, The Non concentrationlexia, Torpidity of movements and an overall mellow in usual gregarious self.

Although the night out itself wasn't as bad. We went here. Hugely terrific place, but as hard on the wallet. I have distant memories of having a diet coke here once for a princely sum of 350 Rupees (taxes inclusive Thank god). I would say a better option is to just shell out some more moolah and actually have a drink which is totally worth the hype (in terms of taste, presentation, originality and the experience), but this is advice Ive followed very conservatively. The Mojito, which is generally my drink of choice comes in a tall glass. And boy is it tall :\
Also, they serve free Wasabi peas and Insane Macadamia nuts from Tong garden which I'm confident, given the chance, I can single handedly polish each pea and each nut from each table (bar included), given the rate at which I munch these. Needless to say, the one other night I went here and they had run out, I was Ms. Grump-a-lot.

An example of how small the world is was demonstrated last night, which I naturally spent over half an hour screeching and exclaiming to half a dozen people around me. I got introduced to a friends friends friend (Yep, you read that right) and it turns out that her best friend is a girl from my team at work. The highlight of my morning today was recounting the unfolding of events and conversation that led to this discovery.

The only Damper (or not) of the night was that it rained, and I missed it. BAH.
Now I'm going back to wishing for it again, and wondering when Ill hit the sack.

No wonder!!

2009-05-28T16:16:00.003+05:30

We were doing it wrong all this while!!!

The soon to be All-New-And-Fantisically-Awesome One

2009-05-27T14:25:00.007+05:30

Loads has been happening in life! After much ranting, Gym has been joined! Very convenient location, almost easy on the pocket. (7.5k for 6 months, which is a giant relief from the 19.5k for 6 months the earlier gym was quoting) and exceeding my expectations in terms of equipment, trainers and general ambience. P-h-e-w and double p-h-e-w.

Some semblance of discipline has been infused into otherwise disorderly lifestyle. Home-office-home-gym-home. is the new routine. I passed up a movie with The Brat since I had gym last evening. In case you've noticed, A will hereafter be renamed the brat owing to cheeky behaviour, which I secretly find cute, but dont tell him I said so. [One of his favorite jokes all of last week was 'Its almost as though I signed up for a Mercedes Benz, but got a Maruti 800] The cars in question here, being a reference to me :/ And also the poor dear is having to work on some new Business with a girl he used to find cute insisting that she 'might' ask him to discuss it over dinner and he wont be able to refuse. Professionally of course :\ he's just enjoying the slight possesiveness Im displaying for the first time. Im trying to be my usual cool and unruffled self but even Im not perfect. [Who Would've thought].

On the first day of gym, measurements were taken. Owing to a previously rigorous routine of uninterrupted gym for 3 years, I used to be pretty well turned out. Until the last year of course. I shuddered as measurements increased their way to 2 inches EVERYWHERE. <woe is me>
I almost passed out when I had to hold this thingamajig to measure BMR which oscillated dangerously between 'Muscular' and 'Latent Obesity' and it finally decided 'Latent Obesity'. I know. Im diagnosed with the 'Indian Woman Syndrome' the ever loving Pear shape. Just a year ago that damn needle would settle on the other one, oscillation-less. Top it off with this website with its words of wisdom and I quote "Finally, you should know that losing weight will not change your pear-shaped body - it will only make you a smaller pear"

In line with other gym related funnies, I saw my liftman wearing ONE gym glove while operating the lift. He's an unofficial liftman and currently arrives in jeans and t shirts, and is not yet given a uniform (My buildings new rememeber). I was wondering why the man was sporting one glove, that too a gym glove nonetheless. That was before I realized (2 days later) that I had only one glove in my bag, and had probably dropped it in the building :/ Im wondering if i ought to surreptitiously drop the other glove that i have so that At least one of us has a complete set!

The (free) Dieticians appointment was also a laugh riot, reminiscent of college days. I was already confused when the floor manager asked FIVE of us to go a small cabin and wait. I was under the impression that a diet plan will be made etc and just out of curiousity, I stayed. After being ushered into the cabin, a sweet gentleman walks in with a bunch of papers stapled together and after a few minutes of introduction begins to read out from the pages. Things like what is the definition of Fitness, Nutrition. NO, THE EXACT DEFINITION. I couldnt control the idea of sitting through 5 pages of a monologue while i could easily spend that time killing myself over leg curls and squats and spent the first 10 minutes of the lecture snickering in a badly disguised fashion.
Im given to laugh uncontrollably in extremely embarassing situations so yesterday's situation of snickering away to glory on the poor mans face was a cakewalk. I am tottering around with a slight limp after being delivered one tight kick under the table by B, a friend and colleague who also comes to gym.

The New Opal Mehta

2009-05-27T12:15:00.004+05:30

http://thirtysixandcounting.wordpress.com/2009/05/27/and-i-have-been-plagiarised/#comments

This is UNACCEPTABLE. Im amazed someone can Copy feelings! Blatantly and HOW.

This post from SAG is a straight copy paste job from Kirans post here. Knowing Kiran, yuo dont need to verify the time stamp to see which one was posted first. But If you must, verify it.

Does SAG mean to say she feels the EXACT same thing for her husband that Kiran does? A blatantly copy pasted post, with no cross reference, and moreover apparently modest reponses to comments and compliments and even an award Which are not deserved is ridiculous.

Im seething with anger. She isnt accepting any comments which tonnes of us have written in telling her shes copied Kirans post. This really gets my goat.

Update!

Blogger isnt allowing me to reply to comments :S Blogger is officially OFF my list of things I like. Latest news, shes deleted her blog! Coward. Why would you do something so silly and think youll get away with it? Hasnt she learnt ANYTHING from her?

Reply to comments in previous post

2009-05-25T14:06:00.007+05:30

For some reason, Blogger is not allowing me to reply to the comments, so for the most part, my response was Mainly thank you's, do let us know if you would ike to be of any help. There are cases that need urgent attention, so if you feel you could be of any help, please mail us. indiahelps@gmail.com or info@indiahelps.org.

Shravan of Shravans blog, Your comment in the last post made my day. Although I am not completely deserving, it totally put a smile on my face and I went about the rest of the day beaming. Cheers to you kiddo :)

The knife, Mystery - thank you! How do i mail you the html for the badge?

@ Smita - Apologies, Ill mail you very soon :)

@ Muthu - thanks M. Do spread the word.

@ Prplxd - thanks sweetheart! :) I saw the link on your blog. very cool of you. If you could also put the email id somewhere beneath it, would be great.

@Utopia, Mesolioquy - thank you.. :)

@Orangejammies - Anyone who doesnt believe how strong, rational and fantastic you are, has me to answer to :)

Anyone else who would like to put up the badge on their blog, please feel free to pick it up..or mail me and ill send it out to you. strummingmythoughts@gmail.com I also have a fancy name.surname@indiahelps.org email id but i cant give it out here :(

update!!!

Mumbai Diva, Scarlett? Aniket? And Snow? Utopia? Muthu, Smita? Aditya?

(was meaning to ask you guys if you'll put up the IH badge on your blog!! somehow the sentence got deleted!!)

Indiahelps

2009-05-15T15:25:00.005+05:30

We're growing. We're working harder than ever. And we've come a LONG way from being 10 strangers meeting in the aftermath of 26/11 to address our angst.

Today we stand, a larger group of volunteers, working after our days jobs on calls and visits with the affected, not only of the 26/11 attacks, but also other causes which could use our help. Morally, financially or otherwise.

It will be hard for me to find words to explain what a feeling this is, how undeserving it feels being thanked by someone whose life has been shattered by a tragedy, how we well up with pride when we see they're picking up the pieces as bravely as they can, reduced to taking help from wherever they can get it.

I found the meaning to my life. This is what I'm supposed to do. Give off myself and find myself at the same time. There is no joy greater than giving, of yourself, your time, energy, love and patience. In doing this, my life is richer in a way I thought was not possible, I value happiness more than I could do so before, and I thank god for the luxuries I have and realise that I'm blessed. And my own troubles seem insignificant and trivial.

Then there are the people. Kiran, the one who began it all. OJ whose the voice of reason and calm, Sangeeta whose the straight talking no nonsense rational one. The women I admire. and HOW. Priyanka whose the behind-the-scenes one, running the pavement schools. And I could go on. All in all, Indiahelps is full of dedicated, brave women, who go beyond their call of duty and find time in their hectic lives to accomodate others. How much I admire them only Ill know.

Please do follow us on http://www.indiahelps.org/ and http://www.indiahelps.blogspot.com/. We're made of people like you and me... and we need to come together when our fellow citizens need us.

At the risk of shamelessly promoting Indiahelps, Could I request followers/readers of this blog to also help spread the word of Indiahelps around? Leave me a comment if you'd like to display the badge on your blog, ill mail you the html. Follow us if you will, Link us. Indiahelps is a movement, help spread the word. Even you, first time reader and lurker :)

Cause at the end of the day, if we don't help ourselves in time of need, no one will.

Money, I blew up the kids

2009-05-14T12:07:00.005+05:30

After kicking myself for not having entered the jig when the market was at the 8k mark, I finally (phew) made my entry into the big bad world of the stock market. 9th May 2009, you'll be a day Ill fondly remember.

As is with most events in my life, this foray was accompanied by much trademark-serendipity excitement. I had shortlisted two longterm shares and two highly volatile traders shares. Very excitedly dialed the ICICI Direct phone banking number, selected the required option in the IVR and called slightly nervously to place my first ever 'buy order'.

Of course, nothing in my life gets accomplished without initial glitches and a lot of back and forth. Two phone calls, two log ins later, equipped with my account number and access code which I had to source and generate from my online account, information which was given to me sequentially as opposed to simultaneously (which would have obviously saved me time AND effort, but no. Im not that lucky), I heard the magic words 'Order executed'

And so the deal was done. Beginners luck meant that on friday, the day I actually purchased the share, the sensex dipped below 12k levels, which meant that I got really good deals already. Since then Ive followed up with many a transaction until I finally realised Ive put in a good chunk of money and now need to hang on and play around with what I have.

Since then Im given to refreshing the rediff page at a frequency proportional to the amount of times I tie and untie my hair (which if u know me, is a LOT). Its FUN to watch the net gain (and loss) each day, to understand market sentiments, interesting to learn how to evaluate whether a stock is good and other gyaan which Im fast catching onto. People sitting around me at work are renaming me the new go-to guru of the stocks given that my screen which earlier had multiple blog pages open now has only stock related articles and pages open. My name is now being replaced by other monikers of the stock market.

My first phone call after the first order was to Dad. Who congratulated me and promptly asked me which sectors, companies and who my broker was. I felt fantastic giving him accurate information regarding the investments, and finally about the fact that Im doing my own research and transactions, the middle man of course being the guy at ICICI Direct who executes the transaction. Whoever said women are bad at finance please step forward, so I may have a word with you.

Mistakes are of course, a part of this game. You win some, you lose some. Unfortunately having invested lump sums in MF's when the sensex was at 21k levels means Ive begun on a losing note anyway both MF's showing annual returns of - 32% :\ BAH and double BAH.

If anyones reading this, and a novice like me, here are a few tips.

This is THE best time to invest. A lot of Stocks are just at or slightly above their rock bottom and therefore affordable.
The Sensex crossed over to 12k in the last two months. People smart enough to have invested a few months ago have made a fortune already. (given the right choices etc)
The most money is made and returns achieved in a bearish market as opposed to bullish contrary to popular opinion.
You need a DEMAT account. Just call a broking house (ICICI Direct/Reliance Money/HDFC) or your broker and complete the formalities
Broking charges are nothing daunting, approx 70paise per 100 rs of transaction. This could vary, but nominal charges is what I'm trying to get at.
Diversify your portfolio. Don't buy stocks of more then 2 companies in the same sector.
Keep an eye on Government controlled sectors, since a change in Govt and policies could affect the entire sector.
Don't borrow ANY money to invest in stocks. Invest only what you can afford to. My thumb rule is that even if I Lose all of it, I should not be bankrupt. In other words, make sure you have some good ole safe options giving 8.5% returns. PPF, VPF Zindabaad.
Stay away from Derivatives unless you have sound knowledge and resources to do so. Higher the returns, higher the risk.
If you don't have a good risk appetite, but looking for higher returns anyway, then invest in Mutual funds, but ensure that it is an SIP (systematic investment plan) which will average out cost of units when the market shows a steep incline/decline which would be a good buffer. I learnt this the hard way :( Equity Linked Saving schemes are also tax saving so you could claim this during tax calculations.

Now Get out there!

Making a beeline for the exit

2009-05-08T12:27:00.005+05:30

Last evening I took to dining at a nearby fancy 7 star restaurant with a friend I haven't met in ages. We decided on dinner after work, and I very pompously selected the venue - a highly recommended mucho expensive place, an aside from my other favorites. The price of the Buffet at Hornby's (1200 per person) did not deter me since I am a woman of the world, with fine refined taste, a certified epicure, and err I had discount coupons. :) thanks to her.!

Owing to the fact that Ive just moved homes, and this building is completely new, some parts of it still under construction, its a given that its dusty as hell. Which means that the car gathers dust as though its mileage depends on it. Dad being a stickler for cleanliness, our car is used to be spanking squeaky clean, but even he's given up temporarily in this current state of affairs.
Having conveniently forgotten this, I left home, dressed for dinner go down to the garage and stand faced with the dustiest I have EVER seen my car. Since G was already waiting for me, I had no choice but to ignore the dust and two bird poos and drive.

I felt as though even my car was feeling embarrassed to be brought out in this state, as though each person on the street wants to offer to just dust it a bit. Bird poo was of course, strategically placed such that If i were to start the water and just run my wiper over the screen, it would effectively be smattered all over my windscreen as opposed to just in one corner. I made it somehow and picked G up, apologising profusely for being slightly late, while explaining all the reasons (that were not in my control and neither my fault) that conspired against me being on time.

We then drove into the lobby of the Hotel, where I resumed feeling mortified and disconcerted driving such an unkempt car. It didn't help that there was a grand wedding in the hotel on that day and mighty grand cars were pulling in to the valet. G and I of course took to trying to laugh off the situation in our aloof style hoping the valet isn't too embarrassed to park the car.

Of course, Me being the confident woman of the world, unruffled by these mundane occurrences in life type woman, shrugged this off and had my haughty look on as I exited.
That and loudly exclaiming 'Oh dear, I cant believe the car got this dusty' en route entrance. Bas.

We finally moved past the current state of embarrassment and proceeded towards dinner. The Buffet is SO good, that one ought to fast for a few days and devour all the goodies on the menu. Trust me, that extra kg after this meal can be worked off.

When we got our first course, the extremely polite waiter approached our table and asked if we would like some drinks. He ordered Beer and I nothing, since my appetite generally diminishes by intake of drinks, soups and such. He then proceeded to recite the list of all possible tempting options I could have, Mock tails, beer, a glass of wine maybe. To which I still declined. 'I don't want to kill my appetite' I said.

As I watched him saunter over to the Maitre'D, them possibly discussing my non drink policy, they mustve arrived at a suitable conclusion for my negative response.

"Madam, the drink is included in the cost of the Buffet" he said with a large accommodating smile.

I of course declined once again. And what did they think I wasn't ordering cause I was thinking of paying the extra price? I exclaimed to G. To which, his usual cheeky male response was -

'Maybe he saw your car'
:\

The 6th of May

2009-05-06T10:48:00.005+05:30

Hi Mamma and Daddy,

You guys complete 28 years of being Married today. I almost cant believe its been that long. I still feel like your little girl. The kiss you insist on giving me everyday before I go out anywhere goes a long way in ensuring that, Mum.

You both are so predictable. Obviously Daddy forgot the date and Mom you were reading the paper Nonchalantly so that in case he doesn't remember the entire day you can give him hell for it. But of course I reminded him that today was indeed the 6th and not the 5th like he thought. And Of course, you two shook hands with Daddy congratulating you on having borne him and his far from perfect nature for so long, until I insist on a proper hug. (It is OK to do that in front of you 25 yr old daughter and 16 year old son you know).

Have you heard of Yin and Yang? The two diametrically opposing pieces that fit so comfortably within each other? Your that. Hard and Soft, Aggressive and Gentle, Careless and Meticulate, Loud and soft, Restless and calm, Impatient and unruffled, . Which qualities are encompassed in whom are anybody's guess. Mom, you find it easier to tell us you love us, make us our favorite food, knit us our sweaters, and buy us small surprises that endear you to us. Daddy, on the other hand, quietly endured being the sole bread earner in the family for the past 23 years, providing for all of us, our needs, wants, unnecessary luxuries even, while planning judiciously for our futures, ensuring we have a wonderful home to move into once he retires, even one in our native place, all on his own, with no backing from anyone. Yet, he never let us feel like we missed out on anything large in life. Oh, material things come and go, and wants are replaced easily with fancier, shinier things. But we had a good life, he never compromised on anything that would ensure a good upbringing for me or my baby brother.

Daddy plays the bad guy many times because he's horrible at explaining how he feels about a person. Most of the times he's goofing up and saying it wrong, and thats only because hes very bad at expressing his feelings like most men. Maybe its an alpha male syndrome. But you have to know how much he loves us, when he looks at you admiringly when your dressed up and going out, or when he has that look when I tell him I got a nice Bonus, or when he'd call Babybro up when he was in hostel and have that softness in his voice.

In spite of all this difference, Mum and Dad, you two are strikingly similar individuals.

You'll are both caring and kind, you treat the lesser sections of society and other helpers with utmost dignity and respect, something you should know both your kids have imbibed in their daily life as well. You both are stylish, dignified, and graceful and this is just amplifying day by day as you grow older. Mom thank you for the beautiful hair and eyes you gave me, Dad I Seem to have taken from you your ardent, restless, street smart and aggressive nature. While my kid brother, though too young to exhibit the values you wish to see in him, is shaping into a cute, well mannered, poised and smart young man.

It is of little surprise that you have two kids who carry themselves off with confidence and self belief, making a lot of others wish their kids had so much humility, grounded attitude that we do, when we were brought up with equal quantities of indulgence and strict withholding. We see now how not having everything we Wanted but everything we needed has shaped our personality to value the things we have.

As my would be wedding fell apart last year and I spent sleepless nights wondering how to break the news to you, you surprised me with your faith in me, your calm acceptance, your words of advice trying to understand what went wrong, your unshaken support of me and my decision and the feeling of protectiveness and calm. I'm ashamed thinking you would not support me and will fly off the handle hearing the news. I now know the true meaning when they say 'Parents will do anything for their children's happiness'.

For the people you've made us, for giving us values that money cant buy and no one can shake, for preparing us so beautifully for the tough world out there, thanks is not enough. Still, here's a promise. That we two will love you, cherish you and hope to be even a fraction of the parents you've been to us. We'll buy you unnecessary things that you want but dont need, write you letters like these to make your day, hopefully give you grandkids you'll love more than us, and make you feel like the two most important people in our lives, which by the way, you are.

Lazin' around, singin a song.

2009-05-05T12:00:00.005+05:30

Living each day in the somnolent state that I currently wake up to and retain with effortless ease throughout the course of the day has a number of drawbacks - Mammoth Laziness, sloth-like movements and a general Lethargy towards change in physical being. This also has repercussions on overall mental alertness which has recorded an all time L-O-W.

Case in Question : Until a day ago, I was under the impression that the month we have entered is in fact, April. When I met her for (AN AWESOME) lunch on Saturday, she was mentioning all the zillions of errands she needs to run before she leaves for her impending vacation on 7th May.
Of course I was wondering why she was stressing so much (since apparently she had 3 more weekends). When asked me for Haircut advice, I said 'Get shortish bangs in the front, they'll grow out in a months time before you leave', she must've naturally thought I was N-U-T-S.
"7th May is this Thursday, woman" said she. After which followed Five minutes of 'WTF, What're you saying OMG' and a quick round up of any April related activities I would need to cover up in May. Sheesh. I feel as though someone stole a month of my life :\
This meant I forgot to wish a friend on his birthday on May 1st since apparently it was a month away. Now the explanation above (although true) seems ridiculous to give to a good friend for not wishing him, and hence I have done the next worst thing. Not called him up since. Yes. I'm good at taking situations from bad to worse :\

I think the routine has done me in. Ever since my gym got far too expensive for me to renew and I moved away so I cant join it anyway, I'm activity-less. Home-office-home or Home-office-dinner/drinks outside-home. and that's all! Whats more mortifying, is after gymming hard for so many years and working hard to be a 'S' or even an 'XS' in some stores, I'm suddenly going a size up. SO NOT GOOD.

How to get out of this Rut? It all seems so easy. Wake up early, go for a walk, list things needed to be done, start prioritizing, striking things off the list. ETC. easier said than done :\

2009-04-30T18:35:00.001+05:30

As i write this i am on my way back from voting.
Its the end of day and voting is officially closed. The voting booth i
had to go to was in south mumbai and it was nice to see so many old
people from my building turn up.. Although it seemed strangely not so
crowded i was still hopeful. Hopeful that the recent terror attacks
and the subsequent uproar would wake our sleeping nation. So much for
LEad INdia. So much for all the endless debates and campaigns urging
people to go out and vote.
Preliminary reports say the voting in Maharashtra has not crossed even
25 percent while other states notch equally miserable rates. MP i
think had over 50 percent.
This is a dismal state of affairs. Im lookin out for the ink stain on
everyones fingers and can spot it on barely a few fingers in this
compartment of over 75 women right now.
Im so upset at the unchanging mindset the political deadlock we
ordinary citizens are caught in and helpless cause we just blew our
chance.
If youve not voted, you should be ashamed.
The argument of no ones good enough doesnt cut it. This is what we got
and this is what we got to make the most of. Like it or not.
This was our chance to turn up in phenomenal numbers and tell them
were serious. Hard as nails.
So much for that huh.

--
Sent from my mobile device

Another day, another story

2009-04-29T15:05:00.007+05:30

(Moo the giraffe, Oink the Donkey, Trapper the dog and a random smiley which is doing what in the second picture I don't know. All stuffed toys I had given V in the course of our courtship)

Life is a bitch. If only these were the first few words in Scott M Peck's book 'The road less travelled'.

As i was going through my archives in my inbox today (me - reminiscing = Not good) I stumbled on some old mails from V. Old mails, old pictures, old memories, old futures we dreamt... For the context of things, V is one of my best friends, and we almost got married last year. Now obviously since the breakup, we pretty much dont talk. It was not only a natural progression, but also one we wanted to put an end to the torturous long distance we were enduring since nearly two years. What was supposed to be a dream wedding for a silly dream-it-all believer in prince charming like me degenerated into a falling out of our relationship, a break down in communication and all in all a struggle to keep afloat, which certainly is not how I had pictured my wedding to be.

We both deserved better. He is a fantastic guy, kind, loving, gentle, sacrificing (to say the least), sensitive, fun all most importantly loved me a love like books and movies struggle to depict through wild fancy moves and music and fireworks. Through all the hard patch just before we finally decided to call it off, I in trademark style retreated into my shell, distanced myself from him and myself, friends and family, hoping against hope I can get myself to strive to make it work. But I couldn't. Love isn't supposed to be so hard. But he didn't let go. He held on with steady belief in making it work, giving more and more of himself until he had none with him, while I stood stoic, emotionless surrounded by compromise upon compromise I wasn't willing to make. For that, I shall respect him always.

A clash of cultures and family values played their role in ensuring we reach a deadlock. Being apart for 2 years, and a short 2 week vacation meant we should've been together as much time as possible during those precious days. But of course. Things are not always that simple and barring the first 2 days, the rest of the trip melted into a catastrophe, days we both think best forgotten.

He was gone before we had time to overcome what had happened, the damage was done. Since he moved back, I was spared the trauma of a bad breakup. I pride myself on being a pretty strong person, but somewhere I ran away from how bad I felt at this crumbling into pieces altogether.

Today it strikes me how ironic it is. I would've been married now, (feb'09) I even have a first wedding date Ill never forget. we had so many plans.... vacations we'd take in 09 then next year, and the year after that... Now i feel as though I'm living an alternate future. Like life is always forked, and I'm in the fork I didn't know existed.

What do you do with memories? Old photos that mean so much. Old friends turned lovers who you want to go back being friends with, cause they know you so well? Old songs that were danced on and now cannot be listened to without a touch of nostalgia? In hindsight, I'm not sure how much we were in love with each other if we let go so easy. But hindsight is not always a fair representation so I wont make much of it.

What about people you've hurt? We're always complaining about the moron who hurt us or the jerk who broke our heart. What about the guy you hurt and took for granted or couldn't love back? What about the friend you loved, but were not in love with?

I'm a girl who has had more than a few of her closest friends fall in love with her. Of course i.e. except for the one person I fell in love with. (who was blissfully oblivious/unaware/not in love with me). Its an irony then that the closest friends, a few of the kindest nicest men Ill ever know will always remember me as the girl who broke their heart, just cause she was dealing with her own shit.

And then yet, here I am, heart in keeping with A, living each day as it comes, looking back on days like today wondering where I couldve been, where I am going, and where Ill end up, with a touch of happiness, excitement, anxiety, regret and most of all hope.

Serendipity's guide to 'You know your turning really old when...'

2009-04-27T17:21:00.004+05:30

People who you would ordinarily call 'Uncle' or 'Aunty' are now comfortable on a first name basis with you.
If you dare call them 'Uncle' or 'Aunty' THEY get embarrassed.
Little kids don't call you 'Didi' anymore. (even after imploring them to)
People you meet in the lift or in the building mistake you as the Young Parent of cute kid in building who your playing with. (Which when your unmarried is sacrilege in my opinion)
Everyone assumes your married.
You exit the 18-24 and enter the 24-48 age band in the Barista feedback forms :/
People your age somewhere in the world have kids.
When in conversation you say 'When I graduated 2 years ago, ...." and someone interrupts you and reminds you its been well over 5 years since graduation, and more than 10 since school.
You stop going to your favorite nightclub because its filled with teeny boppers who look like they aren't old enough to drive yet.
Teeny boppers check you out when you enter wondering what your doing there :/
You cannot take certain Post graduate exams cause of Government age cut offs.
You cant follow latest fashions in attire anymore cause its too 'high school' for your taste since yours has 'Matured' :p

Disclaimer - No offence meant to any of the older readers. Its just that Im entering a quarter life crisis :) and I'm not ready to grow up yet. They're just forcing me unnecessarily.

The Whole Thing is that

2009-04-23T11:57:00.005+05:30

So, here's the deal. I wrote this Yesterday. Before the Kolkata Knight Riders vs. Rajasthan Royals match.

Unlike the last time, Im not getting caught up in the fervour of the IPL. Maybe since I missed the opening matches this weekend cause of the move, or since It isnt being played in Mumbai like it was last year. It was a completely different atmosphere altogether. The city was gripped in the throes of IPL fever, with hoardings, advertisements staring you in the face wherever you went. Road blocks, traffic diversions owing to the matches were graciously overlooked as we all adopted teams of states other than ours, with players from around the world and 'owners' who have little or nothing to do with the game altogether.

The boys in office are playing 'Fantasy Cricket' - a weekly collection and winner takes all after strategically piecing together a team. Football enthusiasts would be familiar with this term cause of the widely popular 'Fantasy Football league' which takes involvement in football to new levels!
I of course, get to be part of all the action, my cubicle being right in the midst of all action. Today there was great furore over the rules of the fantasy football and totalling of points. 10 boys all raking up the decibel levels in office intensly deliberating the pros and cons and best way forward.

I wonder if the Royals will be able to work their magic again. They were my team last year. Right now Im torn between my team last year and the Mumbai Indians or even the Chennai Super Kings.

Cut to today. After having watched the Kolkata Knight Riders vs. Rajasthan Royals match.
Screw that! Im SO into it now! Last nights match REALLY turned things around!! Insanely EXCITING, CUT THROAT and undecided till the last minute!
Thats why I LOVE the Rajasthan Royals, they were the underdogs last time, with no impressive lineups or expensive players like the other teams. Heck this year, they're even worse off, with Shaun Watson (Playing for Australia), Akmal and Tanveer (No Pakistani players in IPL this time) who were star performers not playing for reasons illustrated in brackets.

But YET. against the heavy duty team of KKR, they went in Guns Blazing, knowing they had set a lesser than modest score, which seemed like chickenfeed for the likes of Gayle, Ganguli etc. BUT they didnt lose hope and with a mentor like Shane warne with his patient paternal guidance and his faith in his team, coupled with his strategic and daring field positions gave the KKR a run for their money.
The fielding was tight (barring one drop), positions judiciously selected, which paid off with some wickets falling just when they were required. KKR was held to Ransom, and made to toil for each run. Until the last over when it was 2 runs from 2 balls and I tucked into bed, thinking we've lost when a loud Groan from my brother signalled otherwise.
Mr. Ganguli had fallen when there were only 2 more runs to make! However, one run was made off the last ball and the superover was called in. Another innovation from IPL!

It was a bold move sending in 18 year old Kamran Khan to bowl to Gayle, who towered over him physically like a thumb does an index finger. Whether the sixes and wide proved expensive or not was a question Yusuf put to rest with his clean sweep of the 16 runs required to win.

And they're back. How badly they've played so far and where they lie on the scoreboard is inconsequential, since for me, The RR's fighting spirit and never say die attitude makes them my favorite team. GO RAJASTHAN ROYALS!

Also, A won the pot luck of the Fantasy Cricket for the week!! (De Villers century and Yusuf's man of the match accelerated him to the top). Im totally joining the pool next weekend.
Help me selecting the 16 players? Ill give you a percentage :D

It was me :S

2009-04-20T14:26:00.003+05:30

If anyone saw a woman in the front seat of a Lorry filled to the brim with the entire contents of her home with 5 men on the roof, whilst herself occupying passenger seat in the lorry, gesticulating wildly to prevent aforementioned lorry being driven into people and other vehicles, at the hands of seemingly amateur driver, It was me.

How did I land up in this predicament? We were shifting everything from our (old) house to our (new) home on Saturday, everything except ourselves i.e. Since Grihapravesh Puja Muhurat denied us our official entry until Sunday. This being a new building, there tend to be teething issues such as discovery of certain chipped tiles, a small scratch on the fresh paint(which to my oh-so-particular Dad is nothing short of a crime), water supply yet to be turned on etc hence My dad went ahead to the new house in the morning to supervise, which left me in Charge of operations at the old house (where all the action was unfolding).

Mom and Brother both were feeling sick, presumably due to all the action of the past few days. Which meant I had two additional responsibilities to take charge of. Anyway, I was supposed to accompany the movers and packers (me: cab, they:truck) when everything was loaded to the new house. Once things were done, packed and loaded, my old house bare as bare, I wrote down my new address to the head packer (?) who had NO idea where what. Now, My address is pretty simple. It has a 5 star hotel as a Landmark, the signal is well known, for a movie theatre exists there since the last 50 years I should think. All in all, anyone travelling in Mumbai will have SOME idea of the near abouts of the landmarks at least! This man had none. to which I decided it will be a safer bet to explain the directions to the driver himself, thereby eliminating the middle man and also averting possible delay due to losing the way. Driver = clueless. Packer 2= clueless. so on to packers number 3, 4, 5. All new definition to NOT knowing.

Since the last thing I really wanted was my stuff, 6 men and a Lorry getting lost (and by the looks of it, they would've) I decided Id just get into the front seat of the lorry and save myself the exasperation of sitting in a cab driving at 5-7 kmph to keep up with the truck (max speed = 12kmph).

That's NOT all. Going by the events of this journey, its safe to surmise that the driver mustve been driving for the first time since he got his license. We had to cross one flyover which he decided his truck would manage at the 4th gear. (HOW??) Much groaning and grunting of frayed truck later, (and a lot of mental 'calm down Serendipity' later) I asked him to downshift to second. Wonder of wonders, the truck picked up. (Sheesh)

Next. Heavy vehicles must (NOT) occupy right hand side of lane. Or should they? Many Many fantic 'Bhaiyaa aap left se chalaiye' 's later, I took to ferociously waving my left hand out of the window signaling our descent towards the appropriate lane, reaching which for some reason, he would move to the R.H.S. again. {Serendipity was praying HARD at this point for some patience, and asking help to shun the 'I should drive this vehicle thoughts' from her head)

It struck me at this time, How boyish I still am. I was wearing old oversized jeans (which I'm filling up fast owing to the piling on of some) and my dads oversized Blue 'How to Speak Australian' By Fosters (Australian fo Beeyah) :D t-shirt and sneakers. Waist long hair and a recent affinity towards pinks and reds and compliments inclined towards good looks (as opposed to buddy/one of the guys and the likes) has not overpowered the gate climbing, oversized jeans and shirt wearing boycut girl of yonder. Although I did cringe at EXTREMELY cute guy parked in my lobby, whose cuteness I was unaware of and walked upto his car clad in above mentioned clothes and a pony as high up on my head as can be imagined, to ask if my lorry was a bother and to tell him ill only take a few more minutes, since I had taken to hoisting chairs and furniture myself as well. He gave me a 'Don't worry, take your time' smile and a thumbs up. Id rather have sunk through the floor or even better, rushed home, showered, perfumed and reappeared in the flash of a second. {sigh} (Also, Boy Am I glad A doesn't read this blog :P else my arse would've been grass by now. And coming to the point, he should no? Are'nt all boyfriends supposed to? hmmpff. lol)

Oh it was a MAD ride. At the end of which I was very graciously told 'Madamji, aap gaadi chalati acche se chalati hongi. isliye appko sab kuch aata hai'
Needless, driver was forgotten for the monstrosity that was the ride that instant.

And He has the Audacity to SMILE?

2009-04-16T16:05:00.003+05:30

Kasab that is. The Man and The situation Ive been avoiding talking about before I Spent the three most horrendous and testing days of my life. But right now, as i read article after article of the man sitting contemptuously in Indian Jail, with no signs of remorse, whatsoever I just cannot leave this emotion behind. Even as I write, the words are flowing in hard, harsh strokes of the keyboard, each vying with the other to be typed next.

This man, who along with his colleagues ran amok and devastated lives of thousands of Indians on the ill-fated day of 26/11 sits with a snide smile on his face, with the cheek to make demands such as asking for a newspaper? (With money recovered on his person that day, no less). What right does he have to even have a trial. Emotional and unfair (??) this might sound to a few, but there isn't a single bone in my body that believes he deserves to be living till this day. He certainly is happy he's alive, and trying to ensure further extension of the same by trying to get a Pakistani lawyer to defend him.

His mother's going to come for the trial it seems. I hope he sees the despondent look in her eyes and feels miserable, like a stinking pile of the worst kind of rotten flesh possible. To top it off, a survivor, Andreina Varagona FORGIVES him. I'm sure shes entitled to her opinion and I congratulate her on her large heart and ability to overcome the trauma she endured. But I will not bother pretending I can. I'm a petty little person who cant find it in her heart to forgive this man who raped my city, took our families hostage and showed us what living hell was about.
I cannot. I'm sorry. I believe what happened was was beyond the periphery of even cruel human behaviour, and does not warrant forgiveness.

Families are broken, women have lost their sole bread earners, they're still living the aftereffects of 26/11. I spoke with Karuna Waghela last night, widowed by 26/11, with 3 kids to support and shes become very close to my heart now. She broke down on the phone while I was speaking with her last night, telling me she was missing her husband, that he was a kind man, and she feels alone now.. it took everything inside me to hang on, reassure her I'm there and she can call me whenever and not break into a sob myself.

It was right after this phone call that I saw this bit of news with Mr. Kasab. Even the mention of his name fills me with retch, let alone his sardonic, smug face. If I ever meet him, rest assured, I will murder him with my bare hands. restrain me.

Shabira Khan still in hospital, nearly 6 months after the attacks - Wadala Port Trust. Injured in the Wadi Bunder taxi blast as the terrorists wanted to wipe clean their imprints of their entry and exit. I visited her 3 months ago, and she was one of the few left behind in the hospitals. Today, she is the only one. Then, she had shrapnel embedded in her leg, and back but seemed to be on the way to recovery. today it is hampered by the onslaught of Jaundice, and other diseases. 3 Months ago, she seemed desperate to go back to the mundane inconsistencies she battled in her everyday life. Selfish and weak it may sound, but not only did i not have the courage to go alone (i took A) but I was also feeling so hurt, I just wanted to leave as soon as I could. The thought of her languishing in the hospital, 3 months on, is just deeply sad.
For all of the above I blame Kasab, and his other accomplices who I Wish were alive, Being shot down dead is far too lenient and easy death for them, their mentors in our neighbouring country, who continue to feign ignorance of their nationals participation. How could they. HOW. WHY.

My dad walked home 4 days later emotionally battered, and physically worn. It will suffice to say that I went through NOTHING compared to Karuna, Moumina, and the other victims (NOT EVEN CLOSE). But when I speak with Karuna, I cry inside too. I feel her pain and her loss, and when she cries back I have NO WORDS to say to her. My usual elaborate self is stifled with things to say or even do. Last night she called me her sister. And that's a relationship I have to give my best to. Luckily at Indiahelps, we're one big family. Karuna actually has more than 10 sisters and a few brothers too, she just doesn't know it.

Its all coming flooding back. And it hurts. And no, its not OK. Fathers, mothers, wives, kids who died then are never coming back, and they were invaluable to each family they belonged to.
Today I cant go shopping, eating, to a movie, club, train without being frisked. Everyones a terrorist until proven innocent. Gun men, sand barracks, armed police, police nakas are a way of our life, accept it or not.

And while all this happens, our dear Netas, our guiders, policy makers, protectors and guardians
sort out other important issues of gudiya-budhiya and who-called-whom-what and who-got-upset-at-being-called that. F*CK off all of you. Does NO ONE see the bigger picture here? How many lessons do we need to learn?
For the Harsh Point of view, and harsher words, Im NOT sorry.

Oops I did it again!

2009-04-15T12:17:00.002+05:30

I have a habit of being absent minded/forgetful when it comes to my toothbrush. Be it slumber parties, or out of town trips, the one thing you can count on me for having left behind is the toothbrush.

While this can be accredited to the fact that I always brush them pearly whites (?) before any journey, and hence its the LAST thing that's supposed to be packed. (But isn't), its a strange affliction, which leaves me with owning multiple brushes... since I return with one from wherever I go.

Having appropriately set the context, It was a matter of extreme pride (to me, in my mind) therefore, when having brushed in my parents room the morning, I remembered at night to go over to their bathroom, and fish out (my?) green toothbrush and begin the procedure with a pleased smile on my face.

Mom: (on seeing me in her bathroom) "What're you doing?"
Me :(superior smile on my face, brush in mouth) "Brushing. "
Mom: "I Hope you took your own brush THIS time."
Me :(was waiting for this moment of my cleverness) "OF COURSE. I had brushed here in the morning, hence I came her and took my OWN Brush"
Mom: (slaps hand on forehead) "I had kept your brush back in your bathroom in the evening"
I had brushed with my dads toothbrush. (P.S - its identical to mine) :/

By now my mom and I were in splits, laughing hysterically. Enter Dad.
Me : "Daddy, I'm sorry i used your toothbrush, By mistake"
Dad "which one, green?"
Me: "Yep, sorry"
Dad: "I Don't use it"
Me: (breathing a sigh of relief) "You don't, that's awesome!"
Dad: "Yeah, its my tongue cleaner"

:\ OMG.

Peas Don Eat me?

2009-04-13T16:25:00.004+05:30

Ccoco teddies with a chocolate center. Im wondering if those are ears or hands :/

Im just a hunka-hunka-burningggg-luvh.

(Breadtalk, Inorbit Mall, Malad)

Allow me ....

2009-04-13T11:59:00.001+05:30

To say YAYYYYYY!!!!
To find out why, click here, and look under "General, Everything Else".

Too close for Comfort.

2009-04-09T16:45:00.003+05:30

The day of moving houses i.e. And while its a conclusion we were always aware of (Living in a Company Flat) there's something about living in a house for over 10 years, that makes you both one. At the risk of sounding silly, my home was my friend. My room, although shared with my brother, felt cosy and comfortable since it was liberally sprinkled with my favorite things - Books, DVD's, Photo Frames, A Large Window overlooking the sea and bright fluorescent stars on the ceiling.

The Familiar walls, winds wafting in through a familiar sequence of strategically opened windows and doors to best allow the cross ventilation through, the shade of the paint on the walls, the small Black and white of my Parents when they were 25... irreplaceable, invaluable and unforgettable.
We're better off than most Mumbaikars grappling with the insane property rates, since We're shifting not so far from where we lived before (Into our own house this time), and I can still qualify to be a Sobo (South Mumbai)'ite if I stretch the Boundaries a bit =) so I've got little to complain.

Yet, As i walked in home from work yesterday, the disappearance of all the antiques in the living room, the lamps on various corners and a few paintings left me startled. I'm not used to seeing my house naked like this. Walls bare. A few remaining paintings, presumably too large to fit into boxes dad was using then, hang in solitude, trying to infuse some cheer into a fast emptying home.
An antique Rose wood cupboard, redolent of liquors, spirits and daddy's collection of Decanters and glasses for every drink, stands bereft of its contents, with scotch tape and other wrapping/packing material strewn about carelessly. This Cupboard is not used to disordered contents. Each Decanter, Glass and Bottle were arranged with paternal care.

My room misses a bed. It got shipped away. Strange how I wouldn't trade the familiar juxtaposition of furniture for the extra walking space I apparently always craved. Suddenly all those things Ive wanted to change seem insignificant, ridiculous even to be considered a shortcoming. The view was the best though. I'm lucky in that respect, Ive lived by the sea for 20 of my 25 years. And when I say By the sea, I mean it literally. Until now. Luxury could afford us a house in this side of town, but asking for a sea view would be stretching it.

Its going to be SO hard. Today as I go home, I shudder to think of what else will be missing, which other parts of my home will lie in a box, and how we're one day closer.

Coupled with the sadness of leaving this house, comes the excitement of the other house - bigger, nicer, and finally OUR OWN. Last evening I went and bought a Northwest Fan Regulator 400 W, the example of which I quote to signify the detail in which we are involved in the making of this house. Kudos Dad.

Carry on, Doctor

2009-04-08T11:51:00.003+05:30

I have a corn in my foot. Its a small, insidious little in growth, which, deceived by its small size, is actually quite painful. Trust me to have one right near my little toe, where it rubs against any footwear. So finally, after a week of wobbling about, I finally visited the Doctor and it wasn't all bad.
A little acid, a little scraping, badabingbadaboom. pain = lesser. Although Now starts the scraping at home everyday and applying acid by myself business which clearly will not be a routine process, unless it begins hurting again.

Point being. There are these categories of people. When it comes to falling sick/visiting a doctor that I've noticed in and around my life. Here they are -

The wait until last moment to go to the Doctor kinds - E.g. Yours truly. Doctors are not visited for colds/coughs/random aches - make do with Crocins/Combiflams/Voveron/Mox or other such commonly used medications. Doctors are visited ONLY when situations get completely out of hand, and said ailment shows no sign of weaning off. This habit often leads to injury/illness to get worse than it was to start off with and signs of repentance prevail after imperative Doctors visit.
The go to a Doctor at the drop of a hat kinds - Every small ailment is mistaken for something viral, scary or disease like. Stomach aches could be appendix (OMG) or fever could spell the onslaught of TB or Jaundice or what not. Doctors are visited for small cuts and bruises, sniffles or the most miniscule increment in temperatures. Unnecessary Blood and Urine tests are conducted by wily Doctors who identify a good opportunity. Often, when told that nothing, is in fact wrong, doctors qualifications and results of the tests are questioned for Authenticity. Much Sympathy is evoked from those who will dish it out, inspite of being fit and fine.
The go to a Doctor when appropriate only kinds - These people know exactly when a doctors visit is imminent, and required. That says it all.

While I joke about it, Hypochondria is, in fact a very serious condition, that mars the maintenance of a normal life. Hypochondria affects about 3% of the population, and for those who experience the condition, it is nothing short of a nightmare.

Hypochondriasis is also often accompanied by other psychological disorders, Depression, OCD, Phobias are the most common of the lot. If you think you could be suffering from it, the first and best thing you can do for yourself, is acknowledge the problem, speak about it openly with family/friends, and let them guide you through a more peaceful existence.

(Dare I ask which category you fall into?!)

The GLORIOUS month of April!

2009-04-07T17:15:00.006+05:30

....which has three LONG weekends (Read - holidays on 3 Fridays out of 4) with the coming Friday and Tuesday off. What did I do? Went on a weekend trip of course! (Don't cha know me by now?!)

Destination of choice: Manori. Quaint little island just 5 minutes off Malad, best accessed by Ferry. You can also drive down if you wish, via Bhayander which would leave you twiddling your thumbs in a car ride well over 2 hours with the knowledge that you could've ferried it across in 4 minutes FLAT.

We were 18 of us all geared up with our camera's, cards, alcohol and chakna supplies! For me, this qualifies of another weekend of firsts. Away from the aegis of my all-too-protective mother, I partook of the delights of my first ever Gola. Kala Khatta flavored. There is photographic evidence too, with a strategically placed police van in the background. I also bought Keri (Raw Mango) off a guy with a rickety handcart, who cut and sliced the delightful fruit with a knife that looked like it had never felt the coolth of water, and masala which imbibed in it the combination of salt, red chilli powder and some unidentifiable other powder, which I suspect, is sand.

Needless to say, my mother expressed her disdain at aforesaid activities. HAH. So much for that. =) Next stop, roadside Pani Puri. If I muster up the courage i.e. Not eating off the streets and hygienic surroundings have marred my childhood i tell'ya. I discovered many other unfamiliar terms and apparently extremely commonly devoured items like Tadi - Coconut resembling fruit (?) of which alcoholic derivatives can be extracted. My ignorance of such names was appropriately by ALL 18 of the gang.

Assuming I spend the next 5 lines going into various narratives about how hot it was and how Im a shad darker (again), ill pretend that you know, get my drift et all, and move on with my weekend. Another first was the spending the night in a Dormitory. Its anyone's guess how many good nights were exchanged and how long it took before everyone agreed on how many ac's should be left on, and finally hushed up.

The poor DJ, hired for the night on account of the presence of 3 other large groups of people occupying the resort, began his revelry a good hour and a half before anyone joined in. We all indulged in the coolth of the ac and stepped out only when some breeze was bestowed upon us.
Dance was danced, alcohol was had, dinner was very nearly forgotten, and much making merry happened.

The best part of the entire trip was indisputably the midnight walk on the beach. Secluded, dimly lit with only the outlines of ourselves discernible... we all sat, silently for some time. Being one with the winds and the moonlight, hearing ourselves breathe the pleasure of which the undercurrents of fast pace and vehicular buzz doesn't allow us. A was there. We sat, in a circle I made with my finger in an imaginary impermeable world, where for that moment, there existed just two people. 'I can just fall asleep here' He said, when he just scooted over and placed his head on my lap. I obviously, replied to that oh-so-cute moment by running my sand filled hand through his hair. Someday we will be, Together you and me...

Apparently it was TOO COLD :D Thanks Gautam and AB for being such sports on seeing this picture the next day!

Also, the picture of the sea above clicked by Dhwani.

What Happens when...

2009-04-06T15:03:00.002+05:30

My Maid brings her 13 year old niece to our house for her to learn to do housework cause she flunked out of the 5th standard 3 times and cant afford to keep trying anymore?

My heart breaks.

Serendipitys guide "To find your cellphone 17 times a day"

2009-04-01T17:02:00.004+05:30

But, First. A quick-fix guide on 'How to NOT lose your cellphone 17 times a day'

Do not buy Large Mucho Fashionable Tote/Shoulder Bag. (For practical purposes, Henceforth referred to as the LMFTS Bag.)
After blatant and unabashed ignorance of above point, Do not stuff Large Mucho Fashionable Bag with unnecessary equipment, accesories, cosmetics, osculation enhancers and food items.
Do NOT confuse LMFTS Bag with bag required for backpacking trip across Europe, unless you could take off any minute and want to be prepared nonetheless.
Must buy LMFTS Bags only with pseudo mobile holding appartus-like pocket.
Place mobile phone in the appropriate pseudo mobile holding pocket each time after use.
Bookmark in imaginary post-it in your head that mobile has been deposited in required pocket.
Prior to exit of office/recreational place/vehicle, check the presence of aforementioned device in ear-marked territory.

Now. The Quick-fix Guide to finding your cellphone.

Upon exit of most (Read: ALL) places/vehicles (specially public transport) without checking for darn phone in place, scramble about bag hurriedly whilst still on shoulder, break into sweat as the possibility of having lost the phone dawns upon you, switch suitably between looks of slight anxiousness to medium apprehension to outright agony over alleged loss of device.
Proceed to haphazardly empty contents of LMFST Bag, balancing contents in teeth, under arm, etc, whilst still heroically proceeding with the search.
Plea with then exasperated friend to give you a missed call.
The LMFST Bag vibrates to life, and your heartbeat slowly, but surely regains its steady pace.
Thank life-saving, phone finding, missed-call giving friend profusely.

Repeat Process 17 times a day.

And dont ask me how the above process was invented.