What re flop?

I realised, my language sucks donkey's balls.
Do you know of any place I can buy hearing nanny monitor for the daughter?
She is picking up strange strange words and phrases.
When asked aisa kyun kar rahi ho tum? she says, and very seriously, kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi.
hmpf.
only i am allowed to have foul language in house.

i love the metro

Just love it.
Metro has made delhi accessible to me.
I pledge my undying love for the Delhi Metro.
Chalte raho!

mamma blogs

here:
http://realbeauty.yahoo.com/uma-iyer

apart from that, i am reading this book called the bad dog's diary by martin howard (thank you gaya tree). it is howlarious.

no wonder i love dogs.
okbye

gully seher mein re maaro ghaghro re ghumiyo

prabha and her husband atul are visiting us. completely awesome time we are having. especially prabha and me. we love ourselves some gossiping sessions sans husbands and baccha. also, i am discovering delhi with them. went to chandni chowk and bought a fancy soorma daani. the dukaanwala insisted i put the soorma on then and there. for a couple of very scary seconds, i thought the guy was trying to scoop my eyes out, but he managed to lagao soorma, and it didn't look half as bad. so full points to the man and full money also because i bought the whole schmoodle.

from there we went to the paranthewali gully. i am very glad i am used to eating in seedy looking joints. i am also gladder that i had had no breakfast and it was almost lunch time, so i didnt get second thoughts. the place is stuffy, filthy and full on crowded. BUT. BUT, those guys sure know what they are about. we chose to eat paneer parantha, aloo parantha, dal parantha and pudina parantha. prabha ordered the rabri parantha. i thought she was being extremely brave. only later we realised she had, for some reason, thought rabri = ragda. luckily for her, the parantha turned out to be amazingly yummy. only, it does not qualify as a main meal, it is a dessert. the choice of paranthas was a mile long ranging from the regular to the absurd (khurchan parantha anyone? or maybe you'd want a sample of bhindi parantha? or nimbu?). the lassi deserves a song written on it... "aye mere pyari lassi, tujh mein meri jaan fasi" types.

then we went to the red fort ... which was closed for honest tax paying citizens of India because some vvip was due to arrive on a visit. so sweet. after all, we are here to oblige and visit again at their convenience. atul was especially very sweet about the whole thing since he had had a similar experience at the Taj the previous day. he would have loved to meet the vvip and tell him exactly how cool he found them.

then we went to dilli haat in an auto. that had a meter. and the driver WANTED to go by meter. in delhi. will wonders never cease?

there is a metro line right upto dilli haat. super freaking awesome. considering how much i love the place.

now i am tired. and i have sent the visiting couple to see akshardham. later in the evening we plan to do some more ghooming.

happy days are here again.
and my comfort salwar kameez has suddenly gone tight on me.
the price you pay for all that happiness.

tchya men ...

so we went to goa. again. it is such a lovely place. i plan to retire there you know, like some 40 million others... buy a small plot of land near the sea, open a shack, not do much, eat a lot, go for walks and hang out with the locals. i love the goans. love them, almost as much as goa itself. i love the way they smile, i love the way they talk and i absolutely love their quirky names. met a boy named beauty and a girl named august. so sweet and unassuming both of them. like their names. and then, there is the sea. ssssssighness...

i want to retire tomorrow.

maaya maya yo, maaya maaya yo, maaya maya yo ...

Delhi in Mumbai mode

After cribbing about the lack of rain here in Delhi, I have been forced to swallow my words with a few hundred litres of water.

What baarish man.

Love it.

Though, there is a baadh like situation. And I should be feeling bad and all.

Stupid excesses.

Now I cannot even freely announce I love the rain.

Big OUCH and one tight slap

The husband and I were riding through the NH 24 last evening. As Sri was trying to avoid riding alongside a UP transport bus (spitting, puking passengers + mad crazy drivers = stay away), we noticed a couple of teenagers flying kites alongside the highway.
I saw sri waving his hand across his face and the next instant something sharp cut across my face.
It was the string or maanja from the kites.

It hurt big time, but we couldn't stop to see how bad it was / to squash the idiotic brainless morons who were responsible for it. It burned like hell (God knows what they put in maanja these days, I know glass used to be one ingredient earlier). Got home and cleaned it with dettol then went and got a tetanus shot.

So here I am today, with a slash across the jaw line starting from mid chin to an inch past my left ear. Bloody ugly mean looking thing.

Mugs asked if it looks like grilled chicken, I told her it looks like someone took a dagger to me.
She thinks that sounds glamorous.
I think the look goes with the new fancy dress I picked yesterday.
Bold and the beautiful wot?

On the side note, if I ever catch sight of anyone flying a kite anywhere near a busy road, the person is going to be roadkill.

Poetry in motion?

I am not a football fan. Inspite of coming from a sports crazy (which essentially means cricket and football) family. My father, brother and sister in law follow their respective teams obsessively.
Me? The only two footballers whose name I remember is Pele and Maradona. One because I was asked a GK question (Black pearl = who?) and the other because my brother went on and on and on about the "hand of God".

Zizou ... Beckham ... Rooney ... Ronaldo ... huh?

I have a vague recollection of rooting for Cameroon, sometime way back. Don't ask me why. I cannot remember.

Now though, I think I want Holland to win. Ekdum dil se, dil se want to win.

Because when they are on the field, they remind of Nagpur ka Santra Barfi.
Anything THAT orange, gets my vote.

One drip, one drop

... and we are done .

I don't think we should even dignify it by calling it the monsoon season.
And to think i bought a perfectly lovely umbrella for ita.

She uses it while she showers. Smart kid, learns fast.

Bloody nonsense.

somethings, are meant to be forever

like the teeth in all our pictures. they have to show, they have to be the most commented about.
like the food mania that descends on us each time we walk down Ram Maruti road, Thane.
like the inner bitch who surfaces to crib, claw and disintegrate every issue and person when we are together.
like how time flies when we are gossiping.
like the look that passes between you that only you get and she gets and so does she.
like the pain you feel is reflected in the panic in her face.
like the smile you have thinking about juvenile cracks.
like the joy of saying fulao, fafad and laftof.
like being in one place at one time.
like dragging a scooter and a bike and planning devastation for the ones who dared to puncture our tyre.
like spending a lot of time cutting, pasting, painting stuff and finding immense peace in it.

true. somethings are meant to be. somethings, are just home.

Catch 22

Alzheimer's has made us do many, many things. All of them, painful and degrading to the sufferer. It has made us feel helpless. It has made us feel sick.

Yesterday, its mayhem reached a pinnacle.

It made us feel like losers.

We have decided to let go. We have decided to let nature take its course rather than cutting appa open and inserting more tubes in him. We have chosen not to try and extend his time on earth by means of artificial support.

We have chosen. And it hurts like hell. To give up the fight.
But it had to be done, for him, who suffers every day.
For her, who lives in vain to see him get up and be normal.
For us, who watch him die one little bit everyday.
Damn you, you horrible blasted disease. DAMN YOU to the deepest corner of hell.

blog block

its been one of those months... where you have a lot to say, but cannot be bothered with typing them down.
there really ought to be something like kiwi drainex to unblock this block.

Beautiful lines

♫ These were the status message of someone in my chat list. The words are so, so simple and yet, so, very beautiful.

The dead can hide beneath the ground and the birds can always fly, But the rest of us do what we must in constant compromise... So I have become the Middleman. The gray areas are mine. The in-between, the absentee - Is a beautiful disguise. The gray areas are fine. The "I don't know," the "maybe so" - Is the only real reply.

Coolest, ever

The other day, my brother in law had come over. He used to be with the Indian Army. He observed ita for sometime and said, "she is excellant commando material."

curious.
fearless.
free-spirited.

:-)

Needless to say, I treasure that line more than any other compliment my baby has received till date.

junk food in delhi is depressing

only aloo aloo every where
not a sandwich to see

pav bhaji is murdered

ragda pattice is tikki
no concept of the teekha chutney
the pav, is sweet
dhoklas are a soggy mess
and dosas have stuffings of paneer
no sabudana wadas
and no chikkis
only fruit chaats and momos
and some fruit beer.

Face of India

an idea, waiting to happen.
think big, aim small
try hard, or not at all
future bright, future sharp
a vision clear, straight from the heart
a photo, an opinion, a word, a blog
Thats what Face of India is all about.

and so i thought

that once ita goes to school, there would be a little peace.
only now i get it.
it takes more time to get her to go to school and me to work than it ever did before.
and she insists on reading her books. which is quite hilarious actually. sri has recorded it. i am hoping he would remember to upload it before her graduation.

One moment is all it takes

There are a lot of things that are not going right. Apart from Murphy working overtime and PMS just dying to do its bit, life has been pretty miserable.
Until this morning...
When I received an SMS from someone I consider worthwhile with news that is more than worthwhile and then a little later, as I sat on the 17th floor of an otherwise boring building, a parrot came flying by and sat @ the window sill.

Life doesn't seem so bad at all.
In fact, it suddenly feels beautiful.

One moment
in time
Where the sadness
fades
And sunshine
breaks through
Life smiles
for me and for you.

This one, is for hope

The New Year began with a fart. Literally… and then continued to its logical end, in the potty.
For someone like me who believes in the significance of beginnings, the year 2010 looks like a load of shit.

My father in law has lost bladder control and Alzheimer’s has further stolen his ability to contain the refuse from his intestines. It means a lot of washing and cleaning and mopping. It means a lot of aggression and violence and shouting. It means a lot of heartbreak and tears and frustration. It means a lot of patience.

Sri and I have the luxury of (somewhat) peaceful nights by virtue of having a room on another floor but my sister in law has survived last year on almost no sleep. She has morphed from being the eldest daughter, the apple of his eye … to the primary caretaker, a mother to her much loved father.

It has been a tough journey for all of us, more so for her. But she is holding up. There are occasional slips but she manages to bounce right back. She is not someone who would joke and smile and talk shop. She does not even try and find a humorous angle to the whole thing. She just is and I am proud of her. Because with people like that around, beginnings don’t matter, nothing does… love survives all odds and if its not triumph we achieve, we would have at least tried our hardest.

Not a Goddess
Not a saint
Just an ordinary girl
A symbol of hope
Her name means peace
And that’s what she is.