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.

its the season to be merry eh?

so i can't concentrate on work, coz hello! Its Christmas time. Have you any idea how gorgeous Bandra, Hill road would be just about now?
They would have stalls upon stalls full of christmas decorations and trees ...
Stars and Angels and Shiny disco balls :)

They would have plum cake and marzipans and those milky chocolate thingies...

There would be people shopping and laughing and having fun ...

And then, when your feet beg for mercy, you could halt by that udupi joint there and have garma-garam pav bhaji or walk down to band-stand and have chana jor garam.

And listen to the sea.

sigh*

Its the season to be merry...
so have bought myself a tree
and some fancy decorations
a length of tassels
a bit of candy
some friends
with the promise of wine
have hired a cook
for some chole puri
Its the season to be merry
and so, i am going to be.

aatiiiishooo.

tip toe
past the door
they had some cases
1...2...3..4...

hush hush
don't say it loud
it is catching
you'll join the crowd

clean clean
cover your face
wash your hand
don't breathe in my space

paranoia
like diarrhoea
is a stupid thing.

swine flu giving me the whine flu.

Advantages of being a mumbaikar - 1

most mumbaikars know about a lot of festivals, whom it is celebrated by and more often then not, they participate in them all.

it must because of the bhel-puri that exists there...

but being the capital and all, shouldnt they celebrate or atleast understand them? most people here don't get gudi-padwa or an easter or pongal or pateti ... kya flop people hai I tell you.

Time flies

ankita will be 2 tomorrow.
she can talk (oh man, can she talk), she can sulk (for hours) and she knows what clothes she wants to wear.
How did my little baby morph into a teen so quickly?

her first joke

was giving ita a bath this morning and she points to these tiny mural-like things in the bathroom tiles and asks me, "amma, yeh kya hai?"
i say, "pots."

she looks at the pots for a while and smiles and says, "pots ... pots ... potty pots..." and laughs out loud.

what joy it is to know your child is going to have same to same nonsense sense of humour as you.

Confusion

There is this thing that has been bothering me for a while now. I just can't seem to come to a logical conclusion, therefore, if there is anyone out there who understands these kinds of things, do explain.

Hindus believe in rebirth, right? So what is this having shraadhs for the departed souls (years and years after they have departed?)
I have heard that when a soul leaves the body, it moves on to higher spheres based on the karma it has managed to accrue. This journey takes a long long time. But does this long long time mean it takes decades before a soul is brought up for judgment before Chandragupta? Does that then mean that a soul is in a state of limbo where it cannot come back and it cannot go up either?

Also, what happens to the theory that the soul is actually a body of energy?
If several thousands of souls are in the waiting line, how can new births happen? Because as we know (or at least have by-hearted in school) that energy can neither be created nor destroyed ... and that it can only come back in another form?

the questions may sound absurd, stupid even ... but they are there and i really wish someone could help me understand them.

you know it is time when

... you write in your head
and then every single thought vanishes the minute you sit down to type it down.

you know it is time then,
to retire and ask someone nice to give you pension.