Was gonna write about this and that but ...

I have just got to write about this beautiful conversation that Mugs and I were having:
Actually, I need to copy paste it.

19:19 me: :D

sun

i have an idea of sorts

a business idea

wanted to discuss with you and laloo

Mugs: *choke

another one?

:D

me: yes

:D

19:20 asshole

Mugs: lol. i loved doing that.

go on shoot

me: bloody constipated chicken's intestine

Mugs: lol

me: nice eh?

19:21 graphic enough for you

Mugs: yeah.

me: :D

bcci

lol

lol

lol

lol

Mugs: lol

me: takes a bow

19:23 am copy pasting this onto my blog.

Brilliant eh? I tell you, I can make a living out of inventing new new gaalis.

must write must write

must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write must write .....
oho deep in my heart,
i do believe that,
i have gotta write someday.

Raindrops keep falling on my head ...

Plenty has happened. Plenty to go. We are at the crux where the road can take us anyway. To the top. To the pits. Across. Within. No place. Every place.

There are so many thoughts in my head that the words are all rushing in causing a jam at the fingertips.

One thing that escaped the chaotic neurons was the immensely beautiful trip to Mukteshwar.
The weather, the food, the company, the locals and of course, the Himalayas.

Temple temple burning bright :)


Himalayas... gorgeous


The mad gang


For more pics, check out my flickr account ya?

we won we won we won...

yay
we won
we are the champions
we won
we are the amazings
we won
we won
we bloody won
the world damned cup
we won
we SO SO SO won

though,
i was not allowed to watch the match
that was on at work
because
my husband called and informed my colleagues
that i was a jinx
bull c r a p.

grrr.
but anyways. what the heck. i can live with that.
we won.
oh joy.

ringa ding ding ding

Ask no questions, get no lies
Hear no sound, hear no cries
Sympathy, Empathy… wasted words
Hello no more, no more byes

Sluggish rivers, blackened skies
No more hows, no more whys
Stalled connections, crossed swords
Bleeding ulcers, heartfelt sighs.

Ps: No idea how this came about. Generally only. Am not even depressed. Nonsense.

Not all relations have names...

Stumbled upon this group on Orkut sometime ago and it made so much sense that I joined up pronto. The introduction to the group goes thus:

Not everybody is someone's brother, or sister...
Or someone's father or mother...
Or boyfriend or girlfriend...
Or lover or friend...
Or......
Some relations go beyond the human confine of words...
Some relations which define you...
But you can't define them, no matter how hard you try...

There are indeed so many such relations that we come across through our lives. So many people we cannot call brother or friend or relative. So many faces that are dear to the heart, but have no labels attached to their names. So many acts of spontaneity that have moved and touched you ...

I want to say this to you folks whom I cannot for the lack of vocabulary (mine) categorize under a bracket:
You are the dew drops of my life. Rock on.

Hallelujah, Its raining books :)

13th Delhi Books and Stationary Fair
Pragati Maidan

Joy. Joy. Joy.

Gaya and I made a killing
Sri... is the best husband ever :)

tra la lee

i was gonna watch ratatoille (spelling is galat, i the know)
got together a bunch of friends
got husband to agree
got cousin to agree
and then got stuck in a meeting that went on.
and on.

the friends left for the theater
husband and cousin reached the theater

while i sat in a meeting ...

the point being, i missed the movie
but i did make it to the mall... where i waited for the people-who-got-to-see-the-rat-that-cooked

i waited in a bookstore
and i ended up buying 11 books and placing an order for 4 more

the day was not all that bad now was it?

The sign

Show me a sign that you exist, I pleaded.
God said, you think of me.

Realization...

I do not love him anymore
Probably never did ...

sigh*
Growing up simply kills all your youthful fantasies …

And to think I moped around for almost 14 years over it.

Bloody hell.

Good, bad and a happy friendship day

Monsoon has become a crazy time. Sometimes I pray with all my heart for a few stray showers and sometimes I keep my fingers tightly crossed, wishing the clouds away. The emotion is directly controlled by the day, traffic and road conditions.

Friday was a bad day. A few hours of rain and Delhi was flooded. Roads caved in, traffic signals failed, chaos ensued... and it took me a long, long time to get to work. Despite it all, not once did the thought of turning back occur to me... all those years in Mumbai have me well trained. The times we waded through knee deep water and other flotsam are memories I cherish now (though I wished to throttle the municipality back then)... and for a moment, when I reached office, I felt this rush of cheer... a feeling of achievement... rubbish I know but what the heck.

Little did I know that it was indeed going to be a long day. By the time we were done for the day, the car broke down on us. If it hadn’t been for the non-poetry appreciating caveman I would have been royally jacked. Didn’t expect to find help, don’t usually accept help… but cars and such are so not my forte.

Then I hear of a friend’s father being grievously hurt.

A few hours later, I hear of another friend’s mother being critically ill.

And all I could do was pray. And worry. And pray some more.

Time has this strange way of becoming sluggish when mental trauma is at its peak. The minutes ticked by like they were tied to enormously heavy metal balls. The wait to hear the all well sign played havoc on my nerves and once again I realized what I wanted most out of life … proximity to my friends… to people I could talk with …

It was then that I turned to my ever present buddies. Books. Marley & Me by John Grogon is an amazing tale of the relationship between a dog and the family that adopts him.

Just the right book to read on Friendship day.

Hope you guys had a great one…

So, who am i?

i speak in english, i think in english
i speak hindi, sometimes i think in hindi
i speak in marathi, seldom think in marathi
i speak in tamil, i concentrate to be able to speak in tamil

i listen to songs
english, hindi, marathi, tamil
i love them all...

english and hindi are just languages to me. a way to communicate... and i always felt closer to marathi than tamil despite being a tamilian.

the other day i listened to carnatic music and abhangs back to back.
both managed to touch me... deeply.

and suddenly, today i dont know where i belong anymore.
it would be so much easier to say i am an indian and go on with life.

Partnered our way to Jaipur. Almost.

Friday night was gonna be movie night. Yay. With husband and Gaya-tree and her friends. Yay.
The movie we were gonna watch was 'Partner'. Er, yay. Starring Salman Khan. Ugh. And Govinda. Yay.

Let me cut the yaying and get to the point.
Bloody nonsense movie.
Super nonsense movie.
The last movie I truely wished to walk out of was Hum aapke hain kaun... but even that seems like a wholesome entertainer after that utter wastage of blood and tissues - Salman Khan showcase. Grrr.

So to compensate for all that torture and to clear our heads, we decided we'd drive down to Jaipur.
At 1.30 A.M.
So, we drove on and on. Listening to some good music, munching on some agreeable chips.
And then Gaya says she has got to catch Maya ... and we think she is going to go philosophical on us ...

Only, Maya is her maid who comes in at unholy hours (like 6 A.M.) and is not often catchable/ cornerable.

So we went about 3 quarters of the way and u-turned our way back home.

Slept till 9... and I never heard Maya.
Wish I hadn't heard of Partner either.

Nostalgia: Now three pence less

thats a line that was part of a sonnet ... or was it a couplet. thought it beautiful enough to put it here.

read some more and stumbled upon another gem:
The puppet thinks:
It's not so much,
what they make me do...
as their hands inside me.

a colleague sat on my desk whilst i read through that and he didn't get it. didn't get such simple lines. why? he is not dense or anything, usually is quite a bright chap... but when it comes to poetry... i have seen people just scampering away like they'd catch some dreaded disease or something.

i mean, i don't boast of understanding the rhymes and meters and haikus of most poets, but atleast i try to read it and if it reeks of reality, if the meaning hits home, if it smells of truth and honesty ... then i know i like it.

am blabbering.
sigh*
i miss you soo ... atleast you got poetry.

Blog, I love you

No, I truly do.
So why have I been ignoring my blog?
Well, that my friend, is the million dollar question...


...
What?
Am already gone. To find the answer or Nirvana in the process.

Toodles~

talk, talk, chatter, chatter, gossip

i spoke with her last evening. the one we used to call laddoo. she has been unwell for a while now... didnt know about it, until a chance encounter of the orkut kind. spoke with her for a long long time, about masala pavs and cutting chais, slimy profs and handsome editors, crazy classmates who are now papas and mommas.

i spoke with him last evening. the one i used to call ass****. he has been through a lot of crap. i did know about it, but never managed to call him as often as i should have. we spoke very briefly, thanks to bad coverage. we exchanged the mandatory insults, bitched about work, cities, lack of money, lack of time, lack of life.

i spoke with her last evening. the one we used to call bambola. she is the reason i have faith in God. she is the one who makes me believe in smiling when life comes up with a lemon after another. we spoke about the one who got married and the one who has got promoted, shared pjs, shared worries, laughed a lot and then she disconnected because an Amitabh Bachchan movie was coming on cable.

now i know why i don't mind travelling 50 kms one way to work. i get to catch up with people who matter...

Reality bites

Muscles and bones
Ache and groan
The injury, forgotten
The pain remembered

Actions and gestures
Tears and bonds
The gaps, monumental
The memories remain

Torn with concern
Anguish and sympathy
Whom do I hurt for?
The one who is distressed physically
Or the one who doesn’t even know?

gloat glee gloat...

been a while since one posted
but am back, to gloat
and show off

all hail latest pair of footwear
they are the comfortablestest floaters on earth...
anndddd ... they are in O R A N G E ... how cool is that!!!!

ps: ignore foot, admire the footwear ok?

Corbett is one of the best places, ever

Jim Corbett did us all a favour by helping build the Tiger sanctuary.
No, we didnt get to see a Tiger ... that royal of all royalty.
But we stayed in a forest reserve guest house
where we had chinkaras (blackbucks) for company
with occasional visits from stags and deer, who had been fed and raised by the forest officials
and how could i forget the peacocks?
Dancing gaily and calling out to each other all day .. and practically all night

This was my second visit. I loved it the first time. I loved it this time around. I am going back. Promise.

A lonely tree against a blue blue sky



The game of stones in which the older generation won, hands down



Staple evening diet ... Maggi Noodles :)

The steps to the machaan

The ancient Banyan

The little bugger who kept head butting me all over the place :)


cheers~

Long chutti yay!

after a long long long time,
we finally have a couple of days off.
Yay.
yay.
yaaaaaay.
~happy :)

Cyclecart and Mud

the demolishers came (behind my office)
and they left behind a load of mud
and a lonely cycle cart.
if nothing, this place provides for some very scenic pictures :)

God threw ice at me

when i first heard the sound
i didn't quite believe my ears
or my eyes either
but when comprehension dawned
i ran helter skelter in an undignified dash
to catch up with the ice-rain

sigh*
my very first hailstorm

i freaked out
until the time the wind blew some huge chunks over my way
then i froze.



ps: not a good pic, but thats the best i could get with the mobile... the grass did look awesome... like someone had dropped a bag of diamonds on a sheet of green velvet... pretty :)

Colours and some more

It sure feels good to blog again. really good. i should ideally start with the stuff i had typed out last week... the one about the trip to Jaipur... but i'd so much rather speak about Holi.

Such a beautiful festival... and i celebrated it like it should be... with family and friends and some of the loveliest people i call my neighbours. For the first time since i moved base to delhi, i felt at home. i felt like i belonged. that i mattered to people... and this holi, i am right where i should be... finally.

here are some more pics. colourful aren't they?

Home sweeeeet home :)

The rain God played party pooper and we had to cancel our trip to Surajkund Mela... was a major disappointment, especially since it would have been my first visit to the place and I have heard so much about it...*mutter mutter silly rain god fella mutter mutter*

In the end, I was forced to do the very thing I wished to avoid by going off to the Mela ... unpacking. Bleh.

Tch.

But its ok, I clicked a lot of flop pictures.

*tadaaaaa*
Presenting... our house, in delicious disarray:

Who stole the washbasin?

The only reasonably sane place at home

The terrace garden thats supposed to have picket fences *fumes*

The bed of roses?


The guest room. The guest can come and unpack ;)

Trying to make sense of all them bills...so many of them :(

Stairway to heaven ... kitchen :)

A study in chaos

The long road to work

…is one of the best one, ever.
We have taken to driving through this diversion instead of the highway and I personally believe it is the single biggest reason for my feeling a lot happier in life.

Yes, it does take me a trifle longer thanks to the added Kms, but it is so much better than being stuck in a stagnant traffic jam amidst boring motorists who cannot seem to get one simple fact… constant blowing of the horn does not help un-jam the situation.

So, coming back to this new route, it leads me through a village, up a hill and fields.
Tiny mud houses, whitewashed and fresh
Little children, stirring awake
Ladies sashaying about their chores
Colourful ghaghras, multi-hued turbans
An old couple drinking chai, seated on a charpoi
A lazy bunch gathered outside a shop
Buffaloes and cows and calves
Some dogs and goats too
Fresh air and the smell of earth
Ripe with cowdung and last night’s fire
A dhabba cum puncture repair shop in the corner
Boulders and thorny bushes on either side
The kali temple, the other one dedicated to an unknown God
And a thousand other things that hold me enthralled
In the 20 odd minutes it takes me to get to the city again
I hit paradise.

a box full of memories

you know whats the best part about moving homes? the fact that you never know what little treasure is gonna be unearthed during the process.

my find was an ancient wooden casket.

it was all rusted and mouldy. perfectly lovely :-)


so once i had it suitably dusted and sandpapered, i painted it in brilliant shades of green and blue.

i even tried my hand at vegetable patterns... which flopped miserably. but we shall not discuss such trivial things. all in all, an excellent way to spend a saturday.

even if the end result leaves the husband completely perplexed.

P M S.

Your head hurts,
Your stomach rolls
You feel drained,
You lose control

You curse God
You curse Nature
For gifting you
With this monthly torture

Shallow eyes
Sleepless nights
Easy arguments
Quicker fights

Fiery temper
Weak in the legs
Drunken stupor
Stop it, I begs

Take it back
Gift of woe
I willingly offer
Take it and go.

Had posted this once before here. But a topic like this, deserves mention. Over and over again.
*shuffles away, feeling miserable*.

Cartons; full and labeled. Not.

we gonna move in
we gonna shift
new home,
here we come
the smell of fresh paint
the shiny taps
cabinets in deep wood
i would live in them
(if i could)
cartons lugged
cartons, big and small
up the stairs
and down
aching limbs
sore muscles
we barely felt
as we bathed in the lights
of home, our home
our hearts did swell

our eyes took in
every precious corner
and
thats where we spotted
the damaged wall.
seepage!
sacrilage!
i am so bloody killing the plumber.

The (F)art of Fine Dining.

it was a day to celebrate. so i asked around and zeroed in on a fine place to dine.
beautiful ambience - check
soothing music - check
well mannered staff - check

a dream, it was... before it all came undone.

the first indication of disastor was the audible gulp that came from the husband. the table, neatly tucked away in a corner (thank god for that, thank god for that...) looked deceptively tame.
in its fold it held an assortment of cutlery that i failed to recognise. i almost turned to ask the waiter if we were expecting company.

so, the guy-who-takes-the-order came over. he put a card that listed all the wines they serve. i for one know of only port wine and white wine. the husband is well... er, lets just say he is a beer guy. after much deliberation, we asked the person responsible for putting us in the situation for suggestions. that done, we turned our attention to the food list aka menu card.

i am starving said the husband
so am i, said i.

we ordered for a platter of blah blah something for starters.
i think they take you literally in that particular restaurant. they did get us a platter. a really huge one. nice and white and ceramicy. only, there was barely anything IN it. a tiny piece of cheese here and a sauteed capsicum there... oh and, plenty of crunchy lettuce.

moooo to you too.

the order guy looked definitely disapproving when we used the wrong fork. until that minute, i didnt know there could be any such thing.

its my birthday and i don't think i wanna eat here says husband
situation = bad.

our main course arrived.
my 2 year old nephew gets larger helpings.

we ate in silence.
paid the bill.
headed out to the nearest mcD/ barista/ cafe coffee day.
fine dining is not for us.

ps: Jai Hind. Go India!

line up for the autographs

The husband and I were on national tv last afternoon.
We were invited to be special guests, experts, awesome couple (ok, this was not listed, but what the heck) on a show that spoke about marraiges that are fixed over the internet vis a vis the traditional offline version.

A lot of people asked a lot of questions ... some innocent, some blooming out of ignorance and some downright moronic.

I liked it. A lot.
Despite having to sit there in a stuffy studio with cameras catching your most inopportune angles (er ... and the decent ones being?)
Despite having a terrible allergy that made me want to scratch my forehead off
Despite having to wear a knowledgeable/ agreeable grin when Team India was taking a bashing by nonsense WIndies

I liked it.
Know why? The very reason people called up to ask, argue or chat up was because the Internet had managed to rouse their interest. Which is incredibly good.

I believe in the power of the www.
Hardcore fan.

Go Internet.

Good help is non-existant.

One day, I shall write a book ... nay, a trilogy... on the trevails of building a house.

For anyone out there who has ideas about doing the same (building a house, not writing a book silly)... just remember, you need immense dedication, patience and energy.
Dedication to see the project through
Patience to out think, out manouver, out argue (?) the masons, carpenters and painters
Energy to survive and go on with life.

Cheers~

let me tell you about the tree

the neem tree
it swayed gently
green... so green
right outside my window too
beautiful, majestic, grand...
squirrels made it their home
and the birds
oh the cute little chirrupy birds
the cacophony
the symphony
i stared at it
dreamily
many a morning
and then
last evening
i stood staring
at a naked tree
stripped
off all her glorious leaves
and branches
raped
mutilated
left for dead
and all her tenants
my lovely neighbours
gone
but i have faith
in nature
in my tears
in my brave tree
she will come around
i think
i pray.

Happy new year and its a boy!

Happy New Year to ye all ...
and my lil sistah has had a baby boy...
Yay boy.
Cheers~